Twice Told Tales, $0.99
Fantasy Erotica, 2015
You know, if an author is going to talk about cultural sensitivity in a story, like Kaysee Renee Robichaud here, maybe it isn’t then the best thing to do to have an American woman procreating with a Japanese dude and then naming the brat that resulted Quan-Yin. While I personally have no issues with whatever one names one’s children, so long as the name won’t subject the child to bullying in school later on, if the author is going to bring up cultural sensitivity, then I am reminded that Quan-Yin is typically a Chinese name for the Goddess of Mercy. To honor some Japanese man’s baby batter that helped beget the brat, it makes more sense for the girl to be given the Japanese name for the Goddess, which will be Kan’on or some variation of that spelling.
Anyway, I’m just saying. I personally feel that this isn’t a big deal at all, especially since the bulk of the people on social media that obsess over identity politics also tend to lump all Asians into one homogeneous group that thinks and speaks like white left-wing progressives, only with exotic skin colors, and hence they will overlook this matter as well.
Texas is hit by the worst drought in years, and wildfires are springing up as a result. Most folks blame the weather. Dr Genevieve, the leader of a research team on woo-woo stuff and our heroine, knows better. Dragons are involved, and Mexican gods. Wait, are the gods like Tonacatecuhtli really Mexican gods, or should they be more properly referred to as Aztec gods?
Our heroine spends quite a while in the early part of this story telling a colleague, and hence, the reader, how she likes both men and women. Does this matter, since she’s going to be touching a man’s trouser snake in this story? Of course not; more like, we’re all ticking off the woke checklist in a most superficial manner.
Basically, she will have to bump uglies with her younger colleague, Rauche, to summon aspects of the Mexican gods to help end the drought. Fortunately, Rauche is hot and handsome, instead of fat or ugly, so hey, let’s do it.
Rauche talks like this with Genevieve.
“Is it true that you mate with your own sex?”
“Among others.”
“Why?”
“I’m not having this discussion with you.”
“I’m curious about your kind,” he said.
“My? Kind?”
Sexy, huh? I always adore a guy that talks in such a smooth and suave manner.
At any rate, since this is marketed as a work of erotica, I am waiting to be deluged by sexy moments, but of course, what I get is a short blinky-blinky missy-missy scene followed by some boring discourse on dragons, little boys and girls spatting at one another, and then it’s the end. There’s no romance here, by the way, as the boinking is strictly business to help end the drought. Hence, this whole story isn’t as much an erotica as it is a boring short story of characters spending way too many pages talking like robots and dissecting why our heroine appears to be a lesbian but has a daughter with a Japanese man as well. God, who cares, really!
Maybe Wildfires is a allegorical work that examines the psyche of a professor in a progressive university, who claims to like girls in order to be woke but secretly hungers for the peen of a hot young boy in her class, I don’t know. It’s definitely not sexy, despite claiming to be, and the story here bores me silly. All in all, file this one under “Who knows what this thing is!”.
