Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Unthinkable

UnthinkableLast month when my human shared a release day with author Nina Croft, I had the tingling experience of reading her book Unthinkable. And by “reading” I mean I sat on the book and absorbed the story through my posterior area. I read a lot of creative literature by sitting on it, so this contemporary romance with a hint of sci-fi was a gorgeous change of pace. Quite comfortable and glossy with the added attraction that my human was trying to read it, and my sitting on it was very inconvenient for her. In some ways the book reminded me of The Magician’s Nephew except with adult characters faced with boldly stupid situations. Oh, and no talking horses. Or Narnia. Or magicians. Sci-fi, remember?

The book starts off with protagonists Jake and Christa faced with a sparkling challenge. Kind of like when the sun hits an eastern facing window at my house, the one with the prisms in it, and there are suddenly rainbows and dancing lights all over the floor and walls that MUST DIE. Both characters behave unexpectedly about this. Humans, am I right? They’re so boring. Nobody does any parkour off the walls in order to kill a red dot, and there are no hairballs that get hacked up in revenge.

mkmodelnileSoon thereafter, when the character Sadie is introduced, in a scene involving shooting, the plot really starts to get clumsy. The last thing you need in a contemporary romance with a hint of sci-fi is a clumsy shooter, even if the object being shot is metaphorical. I myself am very good at shooting—shooting evil glances, shooting across the floor in pursuit of an enemy, shooting up the stairs when a human is trying to navigate them while carrying a heavy load. Madly enough, Jamie is no Aiden Quinn.

And don’t even get me started about the colonel. The colonel. What can I say about the colonel that I learned through my posterior? The involvement of the colonel in the narrative will leave readers exhausted. It’s a HUGE effort to read through your posterior when there are red dots to chase and the humans keep trying to take the book out from under you. Over and over and over. It’s enough to make a cat hiss, I tell you. The story blindly continues after the exhausting part with the colonel until it seems all cells are lost, and the ending will escape you. It escaped me because the humans hid the dang thing. I think they put it on the top shelf of a bookcase, the one with the glass figurines on it, the one I have yet to scale. But never give up, never surrender! It’s on my things-to-do list. Climb shelf, break glass, finish Unthinkable. The pace of the book was like riding on a motorcycle with a driver who is fearless on a road that winds through a mountain. This is a thing, mind you, that I have never done, as I detest vehicles of all sorts, but it sounded good.

If you are looking for a way to spend a day, this book is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so immense compared to other books on the market today. It’s probably almost as thick as one of those Harry Potter books, you know? At least from a cat’s perspective. Granted, the feline content in the book was only two kilos, not nearly enough. This could have been better, but no author is completely brilliant…not even one with dogs, cats, and a three-legged pig. So I hear. All in all, Unthinkable is a blonde tale about joy, chasing things, and being terrified. You will not be disgusted if you pick this one up!

1263833Rating: 42 squeaking mice and a brave doughnut

Sincerely,

Meankitty

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Wakeworld

Wakeworldfinal-186x300Recently I had the cold sensation of reading WAKEWORLD by Kerry Schafer. It’s quite the wintery book. For example, in the winter, I spend most of my time blocking the air vents, because the human is, you know, “at that age”, and I’m doing her this huge favor by staving off her hot flashes. I am THAT awesome of a cat! So this book is akin to when I sit on the air vents to help the human out. The printed version of this book, in fact, fits quite well over an air vent, should you lack a cat companion to assist you in this matter.

I read a lot of literary writing so this contemporary fantasy was an action-packed change of pace. Normally we cats only like action when it’s inconvenient for the humans for us to be active. Say, at one a.m. when they have to get up early the next day. Or when they accidentally leave the door open just a teeny bit, and we’re indoor cats, but HEY THE DOOR IS OPEN LET’S GO! A real burst of literary TNT, this book. In some ways it reminded me of Through the Looking Glass except with adult characters faced with tragically terrifying situations.

I will not comment on whether it’s tragic or terrifying when Big D and I do manage to escape through the front door or into the Forbidden Zone that the humans call the attic, but I will say this. The one time Big D got out for a couple hours, when he returned, he’d been snatched by aliens. That wasn’t him, you know? I had to hiss, yowl, and beat his ass whenever he came near me for a week or two until things went back to normal and the aliens let the real Big D go. It annoyed the humans to no end, but a cat’s gotta do what a cat’s gotta do.

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The book starts off with two characters named Vivian and Zee faced with an admirable challenge. What’s an admirable challenge? Well, I am happy to elaborate. It’s one that involves me getting tuna and scritches at the end of it but isn’t terribly hard. So Vivian and Zee don’t have a terribly hard challenge and they’re eager to get food and scritches. They behave slowly about this, because they’re both very catlike, and you have to pretend like you don’t CARE at first, you know? Then, when that door gets left open a crack, you explode.

When Poe the Penguin is introduced, in a scene involving climbing, the plot really starts to get steamy. Penguins. Climbing. Let that sink in. I think it was inconsiderate of Vivian and Zee to expect Poe to develop climbing abilities, but actually what the hell do I care? I’m great at climbing, and Poe’s a stupid bird. Not even the kind I can eat! Jeez. Poe is alarmingly no Jennifer Lawrence. I have it on good authority Jennifer Lawrence totally likes cats and knows the right spot between the shoulder blades that needs scratching. If Poe knew the right spot to scratch a kitty, maybe Poe would get a break, but he’s too busy trying to climb.

Don’t even get me started about Weston. The involvement of Weston in the narrative will leave readers weary. Weary, weary of Weston. I’d rather laugh at some penguin trying to climb than read about Weston. Once Weston is gone, the story marvelously continues until it seems all dragons are lost, and the ending will fight you. It will fight you like a cat hiding in the attic who doesn’t want to come out! The ending will let you get really close and then take off like a cat out of hell, only to tumble around in the insulation while you freak out because you think the insulation might harm the cat.

Yep, I’d say it’s definitely a great ending. And the pace was like riding in a muscle car with a driver who is indomitable on a road that winds through a mountain top. One presumes this involves a tunnel, unless the indomitable driver = The Hulk.

If you are looking for a way to spend one day, no more and no less, this book is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so tense compared to other books on the market today. You humans love being tense. That’s why it’s so kind of us to get into the attic or run out the door. Oh, or block the air vents so you get all worried that the HVAC system is screwed up. Granted, the feline content in the book was one tiny pound, which could have been better, but no (human) author is completely mysterious. Not like cats. All in all, a humorous tale about guilt, flying and despairing. You will not be fearful if you pick this one up, unless you happen to be afraid of tunnels.

bootsie2

Rating: 205 rubber balls and an inspirational steak

 

Sincerely,

Meankitty

www.meankitty.com

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Toying with His Affections

Cover-Toying-With-His-AffectionsRecently I had the prickling sensation of reading TOYING WITH HIS AFFECTIONS by Laura K. Curtis. It was almost like having fleas…wee shivers along my spine, sides and tail. Half the time I was reading the damn thing, I kept having to stop so I could bite my own ass! Seriously. Cats can do that. I know you’re jealous. I’m not sure how the almost-flea thing was connected to TOYING WITH HIS AFFECTIONS, but I do feel like I needed to warn you. Maybe they’re not related at all.

Normally I read a lot of scholarly texts about the quite factual and easily proven superiority of cats as companions over dogs or other animals, so this contemporary romance was a nasty change of pace. By nasty, I mean that’s the adjective the author gave me to put in that space. I think she meant NASTEEE, in the Janet Jackson way. Nasty! Nasty books. Oh you nasty books! Though if nasty books don’t mean a thing, why would you bother reading them? I’d have to argue with the author about her assessment of her own book as a nasty change of pace. Not that she knew WHERE I was going to put that adjective, but still. I just play the words I’m dealt. Sort of.

In some ways TOYING WITH HIS AFFECTIONS reminded me of The Three Little Pigs – and please note that pigs are inferior animal companions compared to cats, and three pigs is about three pigs too many. However, instead of pigs and some idiot door-to-door salesman wolf, too stupid to read the “NO SOLICITING” sign, this book had adult human characters faced with perfectly mammoth situations.

Emphasis on perfectly. Imperfectly mammoth is unacceptable, but perfectly mammoth is like when you decide, yeah, today’s the day I’m going to lay one out on the carpet right before the humans get out of bed, and it’s a really, really big one. Then they wander around the house, half asleep, sniffing and staring at stuff until they step in it. blackcatbuttWhite The book starts off with Griffin Barstow and Evie Bell faced with a tiny challenge. The mammoth begins later, and the initial tiny challenge is probably in there to lull you into a false sense of security. Both characters behave angrily about this. They were really looking forward to mammoth, you know? Different kind of mammoth though, since English is tricky. Mammoth steaks in particular. If mammoths weren’t extinct, humans would eat them.

When Candace is introduced, in a scene involving playing catch, the plot really starts to get lovely. And mammoth. Not that Candace is up to the challenge of a mammoth. The sad thing is, Candace is brutally no Bruce Willis.

Don’t even get me started about Patricia. PUH. TRISH. UH. The involvement of Patricia in the narrative will leave readers sleeping. I’m not talking about a cat nap. I’m talking eight hours, huddled between the covers, getting stiffer and stiffer because maybe there’s a cat laying right in the spot where you wish you could stretch out, but you can’t, so you — the human — wake up all crooked. Actually that’s pretty funny, so I guess I don’t hate Patricia that much.

In fact, the story fancifully continues until it seems all dog is lost. I’m all about some lost dog! Get out of here, dog! We’re having mammoth tonight, and there’s none for you. The ending will prod you…to cook steaks for your cat. The pace was like riding in an SUV with a driver who is generous, because we just stopped and bought steaks, on a road that winds through mountains.

If you are looking for a soft and cuddly way to spend four days, this book is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so delicate compared to other books on the market today. You’d think a book with such mammothness could never aspire to delicacy, but it’s a very gentle mammothness. Granted, the feline content in the book was barely eight ounces, which could have been better, but no author is completely wolfish. I should hope, since wolves are canines.

All in all, a fitting tale about joy, when you smell meat, jumping and then despairing, since you jumped up all that way to get yourself some steak and the humans just took it away! Dude. You will or will not feel love if you pick this one up, depending on how hungry you are. alfie Rating: Eight teaser wands with feathers and a fitting green bean. Fitting down the floor vent, when I knock it there, that is.

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Murder by the Seaside

MurderByTheSeasideMURDER BY THE SEASIDE by Julie Ann Lindsey is a cozy mystery / amateur sleuth story. I finished it in record time: about 20 minutes. Amazed? Don’t be. Well, DO be, because I’m amazing, but the truth is, cats are accomplished speed readers. In fact, did you know that cats can butt read? Yes, indeed! When cats are sitting on your favorite book that you were trying to enjoy yourself, they’re actually absorbing the information within via posterior osmosis. That’s why cats always sprawl in the middle of what you’re doing, you know. Not because we’re just pests.

The plot in MURDER BY THE SEASIDE, I have to admit, wasn’t always easy to follow (via posterior osmosis…probably should have read it the traditional way), but I stuck my way through, the same way a claw pierces pantyhose. When I was finished with this thing, it was practically one giant ladder of words.

The characters in this bendy book were named Patience, Adrian, and Sebastian. The first protagonist was a very adorable character with silver fur. NOT A SILVER FOX, though, because that’s a type of canine, and just no, since we’re talking about the protagonist here, not the villain. His or her relationship with the second protagonist reminded me of the movie UNCLE BUCK because of their elated feelings for each other and the way they danced anytime they were faced with danger. Their skill in the climactic dance-off, in fact, became so ferocious that the bad guys would quail at the mere sight of these two with jazz hands.JackieChan

The third character, on the other hand, was a real shark. Aquatic, toothy, composed greatly of cartilage, and possessed of teeny, tiny beady little eyeballs that have no lids and thus never close. Should that character have been subjected to a gunshot wound, perhaps once our dancing protagonists realized they needed a bigger boat, I would have been slowly terrified…as the too-small boat sank…and the villain circled them, unhindered by a tiny bullet…because you can’t tango your way to victory in twenty feet of water.

There was never a moment in this book where I felt exhausted. Had I taken 21 minutes to butt-read the story, maybe, but at 20 minutes I hit “The End” still in a wakeful state. The dorky plot (seriously…dance-offs and a shark attack?) was full of surprises (such as the dance off and the shark attack, though the title does hint at such with that whole “seaside” thing). I accidentally continued to turn pages–often forgetting I was reading via butt osmosis and page turning wasn’t required. A little tail tip flipping, sure, but not page turning. The conflict was merrily resolved, when our dancing protagonists realized they could still perform a merciless WATER BALLET and vanquish the shark-like enemy. When I reached the end, I wanted to laugh and drink clever salt water. Then spit it out, because you’re not supposed to swallow salt water. The writing style was worth mentioning, too, since it was blindly hilarious. Like a game of Marco Polo at the beach, where the shark keeps yelling “POLO!” and the person with the blindfold just swims right up to the shark and gets eaten. I counted 12 typos to boot.

My summation: MURDER BY THE SEASIDE receives a grade of 3 on a scale of 1 to 7. And if that doesn’t sound possible, it’s just because you haven’t yet read this strong, rhythmically pleasing book. The glossary of dance terms was also handy. I wanted to give this book a smart bird (the funniest kind to catch, because they think they’re sooooo smart, but dude, they’re birds) with a side of pink cheeseburgers. I mean, *I* wouldn’t eat a pink cheeseburger, so the book can have it.

Also, for the record I would like to hopelessly state that cats are the curliest animals on earth – just look at our tails! – and dogs are made of snot.

Meankitty & Her Human Typist
Making the Internet Cattier Since 1999
http://www.meankitty.com * http://www.jodywallace.com

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Control by Charlotte Stein

Recently I had the experience reading CONTROL by Charlotte Stein which was rather like being squished. You know when some human just picks you up and cuddles you and slobbers on your head and says, “Oh kitty kitty you are so soft kitty,” and you have to bite them? Sort of like that, except it’s better than when you steal the human’s chair and she doesn’t notice you when she comes back with her first cup of coffee and sits right down on you. Stupid human.

armattack2I read a lot of books, and this contemporary erotic romance was an orsum change of pace. It was so much better than the last book I read about dogs and so much worse than anything with a feline protagonist. In some ways CONTROL reminded me of Red Riding Hood, complete with a basket of food, the woods, and a grandma-eating wolf, except with adult characters faced with lazily crapulous situations. Like, Red was actually in her early twenties, which is the new teens, and legally an adult but soooooo lazy that she didn’t even bother to go to Grandma’s house with the food. She just ate it herself. The wolf, who’d eaten Grandma, got bilious and crapped a lot. Lazy + crapulous, see? None of which actually happened in this story, but it was LIKE that. A twist on what you’d expect.

The book starts off with main characters Madison and Gabriel faced with a potato-y challenge. Both characters behave stinkily about this. One might even say…somewhat CRAPulously. I guess the potatoes in the basket they lazily didn’t take to Grandma failed to agree with them? They should eat tuna and cat chow, like me. In fact, when Gabriel is introduced, in a scene lying down (he’s the lazy one), the plot really starts to get gargantuan. You don’t EXPECT him to be lying down, see? He’s supposed to be taking the gassy potatoes to Grandma. I mean, not to a real Grandma but the metaphorical one. Yet there he is, lounging on the bed like a cat.

I approved of that plot twist.

Gabriel is anxiously no Miranda Richardson. She’s not lazy, I hear, so there’s no need to worry Gabriel ever, at any point in the book, morphs into someone proactive or willing to take potatoes to sick old ladies. And don’t even get me started on Madison. The involvement of Madison in the narrative will leave readers cold. Cold as a cat in the winter whose owners won’t turn the floor vents on high. Cold as a potato discarded under the fridge. Cold as the ice the human thought it would be funny to put in the cat water, so of course you pawed it out of the bowl and let it melt on the tile, so the human stepped in it and slipped.

The story sloppily continues, like a human trying to keep her balance on wet tile, until it seems all wormholes are lost. For whatever reason, humans don’t like the potatoes with worms. Go figure. I think worms are fun. The ending will push you…right out of the chair you tried to steal from the human. The pace was like riding in the Starship Enterprise with a driver who is wearing a tank top on a road that winds through an inexplicable hole. Bumpy, fashion challenged, but exciting all the same.

ControlIf you are looking for a way to spend oceans of time, CONTROL is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so evol compared to other books on the market today. Where else can you find someone as lazy as Gabriel and as cold as Miranda in the same plot, along with metaphorical potatoes and grandmothers? Granted, the feline content in the book was the opposite of lots, which could have been better, but no author is completely salubrious. Most authors aren’t quite THIS obsessed with potatoes either, which takes getting used to. All in all, a jejune tale about terror (of having to get off the bed and shift your ass), lying down some more (once the terror subsides), and being on pins and needles, which I don’t like. Really, I prefer to take the pins and needles and scatter them all over the floor, like ice cubes, because FUNNY. You will not be angry if you pick this one up!

Rating: Eleventy empty cardboard boxes (HOORAY!) and a execrable can of peas and carrots. Peas and carrots = almost as bad and gassy as potatoes.

Meankitty & Her Human Typist
Making the Internet Cattier Since 1999
http://www.meankitty.com * http://www.jodywallace.com

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Meankitty Bad Libs: Adventurous Me

DeanndraHall_AdventurousMe_300x450Recently I had the wet sensation of reading ADVENTUROUS ME by Deanndra Hall. You may not be surprised to learn that I, as a cat of incredibly discriminating taste, do not like wet sensations. Not on my fur, not on my paws. Granted, I like to see puddles of wetness, like when I knock over the human’s water glass, but I don’t like the sensation of it on me. Blech. But you, being a human, may LIKE wet sensations. Because humans are weird like that.

So, normally I read lot of haiku, except I call it catku, and I have included a favorite one to amaze and surprise you. Great, huh? (see below) Anyway, this erotic romance was a precious change of pace. You might think haikus are more precious than erotic romances, but it really taught me to evaluate my complete and total hatred of wet sensations, and that was precious to me, because before that I was iffy.

In some ways ADVENTUROUS ME reminded me of the story of Hiawatha (who spent some time canoeing on a WET river) except with adult characters faced with skillfully homely situations. It takes great talent to be as homely as these humans were, let me assure you! Part of their great adventure was seeing what life would be like when they were that skillfully homely.

The book starts off with Trish and Dave wearing their skillfully homely masks and faced with a greasy challenge. I imagined their challenge was a lot like chasing an oiled piglet through a pig pen, something I myself would never do because that sounds even worse than being wet. Both characters behave spitefully about this. I mean, who wants to be greasy and chase pigs? Not me! So yeah, spite. Granted, I can respect a good dose of spite when warranted, and I feel theirs was.

When Steffan is introduced, in a scene involving pole vaulting–probably his big idea of how to get ahead in the ‘chase the greased piglet’ race, the plot really starts to get pathetic. These three humans, just chasing and chasing a pig. No Deliverance jokes or anything. Yeah, the pig was squealing, but you would, too, if two skillfully homely humans and one with this huge pole were chasing you around after coating you with grease.

Oh, here’s that catku.

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On the plus side, Steffan is tastefully no Justin Bieber. I’ve heard that Justin character on the radio, and his voice hurts my ears. And don’t even get me started about Clint. The involvement of Clint in the narrative will leave readers motionless. They’ll just sit there, reading and reading and thinking, “Man, I have to go to the bathroom but I’m too lazy and motionless, all because of Clint.” The story wastefully continues until it seems all banjos are lost — but I SWEAR, there are zero Deliverance jokes — and the ending will shave you. And probably the pig too. The pace was like riding in a Ford Fairline with a driver who is honest about what a crappy driver he is, like, “Hey, I’m going to drive right through that pothole now!” and “Watch me sideswipe this telephone pole!” on a road that winds through and across a large berm. Watch your heads, friends, the book goes from wet to greasy to pathetic to bumpy and you can’t do anything about it due to Clint and his motionless effect.

If you are looking for a way to spend 17 minutes and 48 seconds, this book is definitely an option. Probably go to the bathroom first, though. The characters and plot are so tubular compared to other books on the market today. The poles uses in pole vaulting are also tubular, so you see, it’s a theme. Granted, the feline content in the book was 491, which is code for HA HA HA, but no (human) author is completely bright. All in all, a clumsy tale about haughtiness (a lot like spite, yay!), cow tipping (and pig chasing) and rickets. You will not be silly if you pick this one up! You’ll just be motionless.

Rating: 2 jingly balls and an ancient kumquat. The kumquat, in fact, has been under the couch for 2 years, when I stole it off the table and knocked it there.

**

Sincerely,

Meankitty and her Greasy Typist

www.meankitty.com  * www.jodywallace.com

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Dial M for Menage

Recently I had the burning sensation of reading DIAL M FOR MENAGE by Emily Ryan-Davis. It was sort of like when you fall asleep on the vent and it clicks on high because the humans can’t understand why the house is so cold. I think it’s probably because of the cat on the vent, but what do I know? I’m just hogging the air. Anyway the massive burst of hotness means you actually wake up all annoyed and sweaty. So…burning. Just laying there napping away peacefully reading with my butt via osmosis and suddenly…burning.

I read a lot of haiku, as I mentioned in a recent Bad Lib, so here is another catku for you to admire before we continue with this review.

Anyway, this erotic romance was a crusty change of pace. When the humans don’t get to the kak in time, it gets crusty. That is pleasurable because of what it represents, so this is not a bad thing. The humans then walk across the carpet with bare feet and find the kak that way, when it’s all nice and ground in. In some ways DIAL M FOR MENAGE reminded me of the story Thumbelina except with adult characters faced with disastrously fragrant situations. You know, like when the human is cooking fish or turkey and WILL NOT GIVE YOU ANY? (Might I suggest you go kak on the carpet in a place they won’t find it until it’s crusty to eke your revenge?)

The book starts off with Hunter and Adele faced with a boogery challenge. Maybe they’re allergic to the fish they wouldn’t share with the cat. Serves ’em right. Both characters behave demonically about this. The boogers irritate them, I guess. When Katrina is introduced, in a scene involving leaping (up onto the table to try to get the fish), the plot really starts to get orange. Now, I am a black, grey and white cat, so orange to me is the color of an outdoor stray Nemesis. This adds excitement to the plot for sure! Katrina is adamantly no Benedict Cumberbatch. She’s much shorter and her face doesn’t have that odd longness to it that makes it where you can’t decide if she’s gorgeous or funny looking.

And don’t even get me started about Liam. The involvement of Liam in the narrative will leave readers over-caffeinated. IE, more excitement. Like humans running around looking for kak when they heard you doing it in the other room but missed the exact spot. The story frenetically continues until it seems all comic books are lost — comic books being a nice place to puke if you can’t get to the crusty carpet — and the ending will google you. The pace was like riding in a covered wagon with a driver who is stand-offish on a road that winds off a cliff. Like…slow, slow, slow, won’t share the fish, won’t pet you, slow, slow, so stuck up, so you work up a mighty kak and BOOM! Right over the edge!

If you are looking for a way to spend twelve meeeeellion hours, this book is definitely an option. Conversely you could cook fish for the cat. The characters and plot are so scratchy compared to other books on the market today. Scratchy is a good thing in cat-land. Granted, the feline content in the book was eleventy trilling, but I don’t think it was the FELINE kind of feline, if you know what I mean. I guess no author is completely bitchin’, despite that whole excitement at the end of the book thing she had going. All in all, this is a cold tale (for the humans, because you’re blocking the heat) about broodiness (because the humans hogged all the fish), snow shoeing (that part’s just a shocker) and being burnt out. You will not be frustrated if you pick this one up!

Rating: 79 catnip bananas and a furry container of hummus. I don’t like hummus, so I just shed in it a bit. You can have the rest.

***

Sincerely,

Meankitty and the Fish-Hoarding Human Typist
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Review: Murder Comes Ashore

Recently I had the terror of reading MURDER COMES ASHORE by Julie Ann Lindsey. Coming ashore, you understand, means at some point the murder was out in the water, and I hate water. Unless it’s in a cup and I’m knocking it over on a computer. I read a lot of random journalism (since journalism is so random these days) so this mystery novel was a pointy change of pace. I’m guessing something pointy was used to commit the murder, which isn’t a spoiler, because I could be totally lying.

In some ways the book reminded me of a fairy tale except with adult characters faced with obnoxiously pink situations. I’ve never been to a beach, but I hear there’s a lot of pink there–naked Caucasian humans and stuff like that. If I were a human, Caucasian or otherwise, I’d never take off my clothes and obnoxiously scare people like that. So many better ways to scare without making such a fool of yourself.

The book starts off with the characters Patience and Sebastian faced with a sticky challenge. They keep trying to walk away from it and it sticks to them like cat hair. Or a dangleberry on Big D’s butt, if you know what I mean. Both characters behave dreamily about this. It’s like, when Big D has a dangleberry, he’s not dreamy–he runs around the house like a crazy cat, trying to get away from the little ball of poo chasing him! He’s so dumb. But these characters don’t care about balls of poo that follow them.

When Adrian is introduced, in a scene involving kissing, the plot really starts to get chocolate-covered. I’ve got no personal interest in chocolate myself, what with being a cat and all, so at this point I’m wondering, is this story for me? Not only are we near the ocean with murderous pointy things drifing ashore, but there are naked people everywhere and they like chocolate. On the plus side, Adrian is enthusiastically no Tom Selleck. He’s like the opposite of Tom Selleck, which is great if you hate Tom Selleck.

And don’t even get me started about Claire, because I’ll never shut up! The involvement of Claire in the narrative will leave readers euphoric. FINALLY! Claire is this cat person who… Well, telling you that would be a spoiler. But at this point, I realized the story was definitely for me.

The story accidentally continues–because it should have ended with that thing Claire did that was so catlike and awesome–until it seems all sailboats are lost. I’m cheering, you know? Because sailboats. And water. Boo! Thankfully the ending will pet you. Not in the bad spots that make you want to bite the humans, but in the good ones. The pace was like riding in a Prius with a driver who is curious, just driving this way and that looking at stuff, on a road that meanders down the beach. As long as the Prius doesn’t go offshore, I guess that’s okay, but I can’t promise you won’t puke a little and hide under the seat.

If you are looking for a way to spend 7 hours, this book is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so bendy compared to other books on the market today. First you think it’s going to be all dreamy with characters who don’t care about poo, and then WHAM! There’s Catty Claire! Granted, the actual feline content in the book was only 3 pounds, which could have been heavier, but no author is completely tenacious. It does take tenacity to write a book that I’d give a total paws up to, with enough feline content. All in all, this was a spunky tale about fascination, swimming and then being comatose. You will not want to go on the sweetest hike if you pick this one up!

Rating: 1 Rosie O’Donnell and a fuzzy milkshake. Wonder how the milkshake got that way? Oh, I dunno!

***

Sincerely,
Meankitty & The Horribly Pink Typing Human Who’d Best Stay Dressed
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Book Review: Matzoh and Mistletoe

Recently I had the tingly sensation of reading MATZOH AND MISTLETOE by Jodie Griffin. First I looked up matzoh. It’s a brittle, flat piece of unleavened bread. Blech. Not very interesting to cats, unless it has butter on it, but that’s probably not kosher. Then I looked up mistletoe. It’s a parasitic shrub that is often toxic to cats. Going into this book, you can say I had my doubts. The tingly sensation was clearly my innate Spidey-cat sense of danger, which I always listen to. It is rapidly proceeded by racing to another room.

I read a lot of mystery, so this erotic romance was a throbbing change of pace. It literally THROBBED with danger as I turned the pages. Throb, throb, throb, like a human heartbeat when you’re perched on their chest in the middle of the night staring intently into their face. In some ways it reminded me of the book BAD KITTY, a wonderful and accurate children’s book featuring a rotten cat, except with adult characters faced with hastily pretty situations. By hastily pretty I mean it was like the characters knew somebody was about to come over, and they hadn’t cleaned their house in weeks, so they had to rush around with the vacuum cleaner and scare the whizz out of their cats. Never a good thing.

The book starts off with protagonists Jeremy and Becca faced with a tasteless challenge. Granted, I’ve heard it said cats don’t have an acute sense of taste when it comes to sweetness, so for all I know their challenge could have been made of sugar. Boooooo-ring! Both characters behave intently about this. Normally when humans get all riled up by sweet, sugary challenges, they behave spastically, almost catlike, which is hilarious, so the intentness of these characters was unrealistic.

All that danger and intentness and lack of spazz was repaired, though, when Oscar the cat is introduced, in a scene involving jumping jacks. That’s where the plot really starts to get furry. Furry FTW! Oscar is sleepily no Kermit the Frog. Kermit is a goody two shoes green felt piece of pushover puppet, and Oscar likes to sleep in inconvenient places while waiting for his Spidey-cat sense to send him dashing into another room. Usually a room where Jeremy and Becca are once again trying to clean the house too fast, so Oscar’s dashing out AGAIN, after a swat at the human’s leg, was always great fun to see depicted on the page.

But don’t even get me started about Hannah. The involvement of Hannah in the narrative will leave readers sleeping. Not like Oscar, but like a human who won’t wake up and feed you. A very dull character indeed. The story stealthily continues until it seems all carrots are lost, probably under the stove in the kitchen or maybe the couch. The ending will sing to you. (Note: cats don’t like singing, unless it’s a little ditty about opening cans of tuna.) The pace was like riding in a Jeep with a driver who is in the buff on a road that winds through blue mountains. Humans in the buff are scary, scary things with nowhere near enough hair to sustain the furriness of the sections of the book that involve Oscar.

Poor Oscar, trapped in this book with these intently sleeping, house cleaning humans! Well, at least they were pretty good about getting his carrots out from under the stove so he could knock them back again.

If you are looking for a way to spend 6 months — it takes that long because you have to keep running out of the room while you’re reading it — this book is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so swollen compared to other books on the market today. Granted, the feline content in the book was a quarter of what it should be, which could have been better, but no author is completely round. I do prefer round humans for sitting on, and while I like that my writer human sits a lot, she could be rounder and softer. All in all, this was a red tale about sadness (because of the poisonous shrubs and boring unleavened bread), working (to clean the house) and stress and panic (when Oscar had to leave the room quickly). You will be aroused to cheer for Oscar if you pick this one up!

Rating: 69 laser pointers and a thick piece of zucchini, which is in no way as cool as one of those baby carrots. In fact, a slice of zucchini kind of sticks to the tile floor in the kitchen and won’t roll anywhere.

***

Sincerely,
Meankitty and the not round enough Typing Human
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

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Meankitty “Bad Libs” Book Review: Quicksilver Dreams

Recently I had the skin prickly sensation of reading QUICKSILVER DREAMS by Danube Adele. Know what I mean about skin prickling? You’re just sitting there blocking the heating vent when it’s 20 degrees outside, watching the humans shiver, and suddenly there’s a cool breeze and your hair just puffs up and tingles. On one hand, this allows more warm air to reach your skin, and that’s nice. On the other, then you have to lick yourself a lot. Anyway, what I’m saying is this book is kind of like a heating vent.

Normally I read a lot of paranormal suspense so this paranormal romance + new adult was a dapper change of pace. In suspense books, the characters are, like, bloody and ragged, all running through the woods to get away from werewolves. And probably there’s a cop somewhere, and their uniforms look really uncomfortable. But in this book, the human’s clothing is a cut above that, so yeah, dapper. In some ways it reminded me of Sleeping Beauty except with adult characters (NEW adult characters, mind you) faced with solidly crazy situations. Yep, the crazy is SOLID in this one.

The book starts off with protagonists Taylor and Ryder faced with a foolish challenge. I find most challenges to be foolish, so YMMV. Both characters behave grimly about this. For all their dapperness, they seem to have minimal sense of humor when it comes to foolish challenges. When Cynthia is introduced, in a scene involving kickboxing, the plot really starts to get lanky. It just streeeeeetches out like a skinny tom cat with a 9 inch tail. Or a cowboy. I hear they’re lanky, if if “catboy” would be preferable. Cynthia is fractionally no Chris Hemsworth. And fractionally she is. Which means she carries a big hammer on a fractional basis, which is part of the time, and you’ll want to make a lot of gifs based on her muscles and her eyelashes or some other weird stuff you humans like. We cats know there’s nothing sexier than a thick fur coat, big ears, a long pink tongue, and a generous attitude toward the recliner.

But don’t even get me started about Nick. The involvement of the character Nick in the narrative will leave readers relaxed. Your eyelids will lower. Lower. Lower. Until you can barely see the words. Despite this relaxation, the story jauntily continues until it seems all butterflies are lost. Now that’s a tragedy! Butterflies are nearly as fascinating as the red dot, you know? I love chasing those things. So at that point, it’s not all that relaxing, and the ending will poof you. And we’re back to the skin prickling heat vent. The pace was like riding in a VW Bus with a driver who is demanding on a road that winds through Mammoth Mountain. Considering how much I absolutely detest riding in any vehicle even if I manage to get the cat carrier open (I know, I’m so awesome!), you can interpret that as you wish.

If you are looking for a way to spend 2 hours and don’t have a cat to pet instead, this book is definitely an option. The characters and plot are so quarrelsome compared to other books on the market today, when Nick isn’t on the page relaxing you into a nap. Granted, the feline content in the book was only 5 helpings worth, which could have been better, but no author is completely clever. All in all, this is a rocky tale about jealousy, table tennis and being aroused. You may be ecstatic if you pick this one up! And you may be relaxed. Your call. And by the way, you should get a cat.

Rating: 11 pieces of catnip and a hysterical salmon sushi plate

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