All posts tagged novel

The Seneca Scourge

Published March 14, 2013 by Sandee

Seneca Scourge

Oh boy will you be in for a big surprise — you’re reading, reading and – blam!   The Seneca Scourge by Carrie Rubin would be a good movie.  There’s tension, action, intrigue – sheesh! — a little romance.  I haven’t read a lot of this genre, but it’s a nice mix of elements.  How’d she come up with this?

This is the second novel I’ve read by a medical doctor.  I bought the other one based on a review I read, and was disappointed, especially since I like the idea of novel-writing doctors, or doctors who write novels — writers who practice medicine – left, right brain merge — yay!  I couldn’t even finish the other book.  I think that other writer was trying too hard to be metaphysical and the shit just didn’t work.

But I love the concept of Carrie’s book, and the plot lured me in – I had to know where it was going.  And in the end, there’s room for a sequel, I think.  But, it’s up to Carrie.

Naked Ass Cake Readings

Published June 13, 2012 by Sandee

“Naked Ass Cake Readings?” — Really?! — I feel like Kyle all psyching people out.

I’m supposed to be writing another book, but I wanted to see first if anyone would care about my first book, over there at the sidebar.  Actually I do have a novel called The Unavoidable, copyrighted in the year 2000 — ‘memba the year 2000, it was the future.  I really need to hurl that novel out there.  They say novels do better than collections of short stories.  We’ll see.

I want to do book tours in Manhattan.  Have readings.  Naked readings.  Okay not naked readings, but readings with people other than me reading.  Young, beautiful people.  Maybe Le Clown would fly down to read with his magnificence, charisma and mind boggling beauty…  I have to get copies printed of my book.  I’m not up to the task yet.  In due time…in due time, as says the Devil in the Exorcist.

I’m spending all my time blogging now and not writing.  I should be writing.  The last short story I wrote was Why Did You Try to Fuck Somebody You Hate?  Well.  Why did you?

I Tried to Kill as Many of Those Motherf**kers as I Could

Published April 15, 2012 by Sandee


I think I’m letting my pushing-90-year-old friend “Artie” go too far.  Yesterday he stood half an inch from me to describe his love-making technique.  He says, sotto voce, “First, I touch her face.”  He takes his wrinkly hand and strokes the side of my face and I says to myself, hmmm.  “Then I move my hand down past her shoulders,” he says.  I say to myself, okay.  “Then, I move my hands underneath her breasts,” he says, but then his buddy from the old folks club yelled across the room to say he was ready to leave.  I’m standing there smiling ear to ear.  “Artie” grabs me and we kiss in the mouth as he holds me real close.  I’m thinking, He’s not a pervert, not a pervert, not a pervert.

You see I think it’d be novel…to…you know…  And I need to stop it with that shit.  ‘cause see, I’d fuck him just to tell people that I fucked a 90 year man.  Word!   Well, if that is possible.  “Artie” is one of those really youthful, blessed with good genes old people who still has a sex life.  He told me he got a blow job in Florida and had an old bitch on his jock.  Word!  “Oh yeah, she’s loaded.  She has a condo in Miami he tells me.”  “Are, you still…you know…able to have sex?”  I say.  “Oh yeah but it was hard.  I was out of commission for two days afterward.”   He says he went down there to Florida and spent time with his sister and four or five of her friends.  “Old broads” he called them.  They all went out to a restaurant.  The waiter asks him, as he’s the only gent, if he’s escorting all the women.  “I’m their pimp,” my boy Artie says to the waiter.

He’s an engaging, interesting fellow, who tells some really good stories, the ones from waaaaaaaaay back when.  He was in WWII, yep.  “Did you kill anyone?”  “Yeah, sure I did,” he says.  “Don’t you have flashbacks?  Do you feel bad?”  I ask.  “Artie” is Jewish.  He saw the devastation of the concentration camps.  He says to me, “Hell no!  I tried to kill as many of those motherfuckers as I could.” “Oooo, stop you’re getting me hot,” I tell him.

Initially, I’m thinking I could flirt aggressively with someone this age without having to “pay up.”  But I don’t know, “Artie’s” is pretty hot.  And he’s describing his ‘moves’ and everything.  Artie turns me on.