My prayers have been answered.
Remember when I finished Fifty Sharts of Grey Goop and I declared “Holy twat-twizzler! Will someone please–pretty please with a butt plug on top–write some more words about an abusive douche and an empty space who murmurly sticks things in each other’s holes?”
Well Chrisward and Bellana are back! This time in the incarnation of Bennett Ryan and Chloe Mills. He’s a vampire billionaire media executive with a marbled sparkling body and flashing topaz grey hazel eyes. She’s the pfftt sound that comes from a whoopie cushion expelling actual gas.
And they bang. Their genitals. Into each other.
The book is called Beautiful Bastard.
That is a good title. And by good, I mean beat me in the face with a wire brush.
Two women are to blame for this current celebration of an abusive dickface. Remember how in the Declaration of Sentiments, Lucretia Mott had wanted to write:
Resolved, That woman should become wet and horny from being infantilized and humilated by a gorgeous rumproast man.
And Elizabeth Cady Stanton was all like “Bitch, please. That goes against the very nature of women rights.”
And Lucretia Mott was all like “Just you wait Lizzie. Women are gonna be down with this shit because the world is fucking ending.”
Lucy was right.
So I slogged through the first chapter.
Here’s the thing: My gall bladder has stopped working.
I blame Fifty Fart Nuggets. It turned my entire body into one giant vat of bile, and my little ol’ gall bladder couldn’t take it and has decided to secede from the sinking ship (I know I’m mixing metaphors, but I just fucking read chapter one of Beautiful Bastard).
So Benchrisward is a beautiful man, but has the personality of Newt Gingrich on his period. Chloebellana is his toiling intern who is not physically described. There is a lot of clenching jaws and stomach muscles. There’s wetness monitoring. There are flashing eyes and murmuring bungholes.
Then they boink in the conference room because…spahettios have meatballs, I honestly have no idea.
You can torture yourself here.
I checked on Amazon and it looks like the sequel is coming out in a few months. I’m sure it will be wonderful.
Lucretia Mott would be so proud.
Speaker7 
My gallbladder is fully functioning but I find myself nauseous…the only thing worse would be if someone made this into an audio book an I actually listened to it on my already excruciating commute.
How do you do it, Speaker7? How do you do it?
Here you go: http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Bastard/dp/B00B77JGPK/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1360510017&sr=8-2&keywords=beautiful+bastard
Unfortunately you will have to wait two more days.
Thank you! The voice of reason! This post needs a love button!
Juliette,
I fear we are in the minority.
Speaker7
I admire your fortitude I really do. I don’t think I could read one line much less one chapter! How in the hell do these trash books keep getting popular?? ugh.
I believe Lucy Mott said it best when she foresaw the world ending back in 1848.
I agree with JackieP – thank you for suffering so that we don’t have to.
We need martyrs in today’s world. Kudos to you.
Do you think I’ll get a holiday named after me some day?
well if it means a day off, I’ll vote for it.
Why does everyone boink in the conference room? When I was night manager at the San Jose Mercury, we all boinked in the stationery closet. Of course, that was so we could steal office supplies as we left – but still…
Yeah! At the library we just go out in the stacks. No one will find us there.
Please write this as fan fiction.
So wait….. is that pronounced Ben-Chris-Ward or Bench-Risward?
Hmm…that’s a tough question. I’m really liking Bench-Risward. Sounds so douchey.
I’m writing a novel, and need a good name for a villain. May I please use Bench Risward? Or maybe Doosh Bench-Risward?
Speaker 7, again your writing is so hilarious, so wonderfully sarcastic, so-
Uh, oh. Traitor nipples.
Traitor nippes are the worst, aren’t they?
They’re not as bad as this awful book. That was the only memorable line!
I’m pretty darn sure there is a film coming out, based on the book, starring Charlie Sheen in both roles. And, instead of 3D glasses, theaters will be providing nose masks that will allow patrons to smell the nether parts of all characters onscreen.
I feel like I should respond with a “winning” but I really feel like we’re all losing somehow.
These writers are taking the fun out of perversion. On a side note, Lucretia was a front runner name for my youngest daughter Brunhilda.
I agree. This actually elevates the porn storyline of the pizza delivery guy, this is that bad.
I don’t know why those women insist on ordering pizza when they know the pool guy is due at around the same time of day.
Do the pizza delivery guy and pool guy ever get together? This may be the start of my version of Twilight fanfic.
Oh, that sounds fantabulous. I too have seen stuff like “If you liked 50 Shades – and we know you bought ALL THREE BOOKS on your Nook so you are clearly an idiot – you will love this book!” I do like how they get original and instead of a business executive, it’s like, a media executive. And instead of a moron coming to interview him, she’s a moron who is already an intern (no need to buy her company!). I’m not sure if we should be more horrified that it is so horrific or that it is a copy of a copy of horrific.
I think we should be horrified that these two have a publishing deal with Simon and Schuster and us two read this crap and write a blog for free.
Speaker, good God, you are a strong woman, but I don’t blame your gallbladder for deciding it can’t take another minute of reading this stuff 😉
Yes, it’s been punching me in my right upper abdomen all morning.
OW! My sympathies.
The personality Newt Gingrich on his period – that’s about the most beautiful description I have ever seen. Once again I must thank you for saving me from reading this stuff. One question, did he give out roses?
I think I should write my own version starring a menstruating Newt Gingrich and a headless Barbie.
Now that sounds like a good read.
Or at least another recrap?
Darned spell-checker. I had to try three times to get the word to stay the way it should be.
I can’t decide if I should read these 50 Shades of Grey books, or lick the floor of a porn theater.
hmmm….
Huh. The porn theater won.
Best choice.
I’m sure it’s no coincidence that this post appeared in my in box right next to one entitled “Scarred for Life.”
Nope.
I have money on my Kindle giftcard, and I need a laugh, but I just can’t click on the “buy”option. I have a feeling this was probably a Kindle free download and I missed the opportunity for cheap snark.
This was on a fan fiction site under the title “The Office” which would have been awesome if it was a sex story between Dwight and Michael.
Fan fiction of WHAT?
Fan fiction is supposed to involve known characters, or at least known settings. I’m confused by this.
But good grief, what a piece of excrement. I’m so sorry for your poor gall-bladder, to be subjected to so much gall at one go.
And you just know that while Elizabeth and Lucretia were having this conversation, Susan B. Anthony and Lucy Stone were out getting their lady parts waxed and bleached, and getting their teeth removed and replaced with removable dentures. How else could they ensure that 100 years later, women would become THIS STUPID??
I heard Lucy Stone had Triple ZZZ implants, but they got in the way of the force-feeding tube during her hunger strike so she reduced them to Double ZZs.
Really? I mean, just, seriously? I know I shouldn’t be surprised. I know I shouldn’t. But you’re making this up. . . Right?
I wish to all the sky deities in existence I was.
I am fairly certain there was a movie way back in the 80’s that started this, I can still see the ropes and the red dress. I was always uncertain what the deal was then. I didn’t read 50 Shades, heard it was full of bad grammar, spelling errors and otherwise poorly written.
More of the same? Thank you for throwing yourself across the tracks for the rest of us. Just one more book I can pass on.
I think in this one the main dishrag is not a virgin so that’s different? I guess? I don’t know anymore. I feel I’m losing the ability to infer or even read.
I clicked on the link. I am ashamed I was so easily led into mediocre writing. Personally, as I read, I couldn’t get past the fact she lost her earrings down a garbage disposal. How on earth does one do that–tip the head over and bounce until one earring falls, then, do the other side? I’m so confused.
In my numbness, I completely glossed over that part. Maybe she washes the dishes with her ears?
AND she was rear-ended on the interstate. From personal experience, I can tell you that rear-end collisions on an interstate involve the rear-ender moving at a sufficient amount of speed that the rear-ended probably needs to take a trip to the ER for evaluation and some heavy pain-meds. The only reason why there would not be a trip to the ER for evaluation and heavy pain-meds would be if they were both completely stopped in a world-class traffic jam that was being announced on every radio and tv station known to man, so she could have already called and told her boss that she was going to be twelve hours late, due to traffic.
Seriously, I was in an accident on the interstate, and when I read that line, and found out that she was only ONE hour late, and then didn’t even TELL her boss that she was in an accident, and didn’t even MENTION a single little bit of whiplash or dizzy spells or backache, or anything, I just wanted to come over to the author’s house and beat her over the head with a week-old flounder.
Also, even if she was feeling all “ooooooh-sexy!” confused when he first touched her (one touch transforms her into a mindless puddle of goo! Wow! Magic!), why in the world didn’t she view this as the PERFECT opportunity to destroy bastard-boss with a sexual harrasment lawsuit? I mean, she could totally take him down! Oh, especially if she had managed, just once, to say “no.” I mean, I know he’s Magic-Man with the Magic-hands, but come ON.
Oh, but of course, she was so messed up and confused from her collision earlier in the day, and hopped up on pain pills, so she wasn’t thinking clearly. Right? RIGHT?!
What sort of a twit doesn’t even tell her boss she’s late because she was hit by a car!
Especially when he describes HIS “disaster morning” as – oh no! He had to send a fax AND make a telephone call!
Oh, yeah, and BOTH earrings in the disposal? The mind, it boggles.
It doesn’t help to put any logic into any of this. It causes brain hurtz.
Why do you continually torture yourself!?!?!
I have a martyr complex.
I fear for your safety.
You have to hand it to Fifty Shades though; writing is supposed to evoke an emotional response, but to shut down an entire organ is pretty impressive. Although clearly she was aiming for the brain and missed.
Oh no, she also shut down my brain.
Well, I didn’t even manage to get three whole pages into the torture before I had to give up in disgust. I don’t know how you do it, S7. I didn’t think there was enough pain-killer in the world to deal with 50 Shades of Glaurghh, and yet you have bravely thrown yourself back into the breach yet again with this? I am amazed. I truly am.
Oh, did you catch the bit about how she didn’t bring left-overs from home because she was anticipating having the day-from-hell? Well, that’s how I read it, at least. Top of third page: “Normally I’d bring leftovers or leave with the other interns to grab something, but time was not on my side today.” Sounds like she was planning the accident, or something, if she knew time wouldn’t be on her side so she shouldn’t bring left-overs from home.
Gah. You are a wonder to willingly subject yourself to this torture so that we don’t have to. I bow to you, Speaker7.
I enjoy all the inconsistencies everyone is pointing out in just the first chapter. I only honed in on the flashing eyes and other banalities. I don’t think I’ll be reading beyond unless there’s a huge public outcry for it.
I feel like I just came for air and now someone is pushing me right back down into a vat of bile. How can this be? More? This is one step further backward after Mommy Wars.
I have yet to come up for air. What is it like?
That’s Chapter ONE?! No wonder your gall bladder gave up. (I had mine removed many years ago, actually, in a very dramatic fashion that required emergency surgery. But anyway. You don’t need that shiz. And the recovery is a breeze. I was rollerblading by day 6. Yes, my life is a Juicy Fruit commercial.)
I wish my life were a Juicy Fruit commercial. Everyone looks so sunny and gall-bladder free.
The title alone gives me acid reflux and makes me want to drink vast quantities of alcohol until I’m comatose.
Yes. That is the proper response.
Hmmm… Speaker7… reading these books… who’s the masochistic one?
(We don’t know each other well, so let me just point out that was a JOKE.)
I think they’ve shrunk my brain so much that now they are the only things I can read.
How is this different from the whole Mills & Boon novels of before though? I mean, I won’t read them but I don’t see them much differently – is it just because of the success of some of them has brought them to our attention more?
Does Chloebellana have an inner goddess? Because I don’t think I could read a book where the heroine doesn’t have an inner goddess.
I knew the book was lacking something. Maybe she has something like a Jiminy Cricket that lives on her shoulder and dispenses awful advice?