Werewolf Bootlegger for the WIN!

Where to even begin? So, Moira Rogers has not one, but two new books coming out very shortly. One features a vampire lumberjack, the other a werewolf bootlegger. And Moira (or rather the two wonderful women who are Moira, Bree & Donna) want to know which of the two has the most potential for awesome. Is it the vampire lumberjack or the werewolf bootlegger?

The answer is easy, of course. It's the Werewolf Bootlegger.

Now I love vamps, it's kind of a prerequisite to work on this blog. And lumberjacks are just hot, really. The combination of vampire and lumberjack is a formidable one, but if there is one combination that can blow the vampire lumberjack straight out of the treetops, it's a werewolf bootlegger.

I mean come on! Vamps are sexy, but they're also whiter than chalk, cold and undead. Bring on the werewolves! They're the whole package wrapped in a beyond-mortal body that still has a beating heart. Every now and then a girl wants something warm blooded, ya know? And I can handle a little extra hair when the trade off is a pulse and an erotic animalistic streak.

Now, let's look at the chosen professions. Lumberjacks are cool and all, I mean you have to respect the hardworking blue collar professions. But where's the excitement? Where's the danger? No, losing a finger in a tragic ax accident doesn't count. That's not the sexy kind of danger I find appealing and, to my knowledge, vamps aren't part earthworm. What's cut off does not regenerate. Ew.

Now bootlegging, that's far more interesting. I've got a thing for anti-hero bad boys, and here we have a werewolf flaunting governmental regulations to get the people what they want. He's a rebel, a freedom fighter, an underground activist. It's like the alcoholic version of Robin Hood with tommy guns instead of bows and arrows. Besides, one of the hottest things about lumberjacks is the thought of them coming home hot and sweaty and ready to go after a day hard at work. Vampires don't sweat, which is a bonus on the olfactory front, but defeats the purpose of the fantasy. Really, you're just going to have a tired, cold guy in flannel coming home from a hard day of labor. Would the strenuous work even add muscle mass? Do vamps have muscle mass? And are they really going to be keyed up for other activities after a day of playing in the treetops? If so, there may be other, more disturbing issues at work (Cough dendrophilia cough). Yeah, the fantasy's dead. When the Were gets home from delivering bootleg booze to speakeasys and gentlemen's clubs, however, you know what's going to be on his mind. Rawr.

Speaking of flannel, this isn't the early '90s grunge scene. Would you rather have your man in a nasty flannel shirt and worn out jeans smelling of wood chips and possibly carrying the remnants of poison oak, or a sharp, gangster-style pinstripe suit with a hip flask?

Finally, I leave you with two words as my closing argument, take them as you will:

Doggy style

I'd be a werewolf bootlegger's moll any day!

This post is a part of Moira Rogers’ Creature Feature Kindle Throwdown Contest. By leaving a (meaningful) comment, you will be entered to win a Kindle from Amazon.com, or an alternate grand prize of $275 to spend at an online book retailer. For a full list of rules and more ways to win, visit the contest page.


~**EDIT**~

If you need any help making up your mind, check out these awesome posts. Seriously, they had me laughing out loud.

Werewolf Bootlegger: click here
Vampire Lumberjack: click here


~Lily

Review - That Old Black Magic By Moira Rogers

Blurb from Moira’s Web site:
“The job was supposed to be easy. Lifting a magic charm from the house of a reclusive wizard in the middle of a swamp is a breeze for Max, a shapeshifter who has made his reputation by putting an end to dark wizards and the evil magic they use. Getting locked into a closet with an infamous thief wasn’t part of the gameplan, but Max has always improvised well...especially when a hot woman is involved. The one thing Max didn’t plan for was the possibility that Polly would beat him at his own game.”

That Old Black Magic is a short story that doesn’t feel like a short story. In many ways, it doesn’t have a clear cut beginning or ending. Instead, it feels like a passage cut from the middle of a much longer story, like a snapshot in time that captures the essence of the main characters and their stories, but comes nowhere near offering the complete picture. That Old Black Magic jumps straight into the action, as though the reader is already familiar with the characters. It then ends, leaving these characters locked in the middle of their sexual battle for dominance. It’s unlike many of the short stories I’ve read, and absolutely brilliant.

My main problem with short stories is that I like to get to know a character. I like plot. I like details. I like fretting over the dilemmas the main characters are facing. That’s the joy of reading for me. Short stories, by the very nature of what they are, do not have the ability to give me exactly what I want. Until, you know, now, apparently. I’m completely in love with this short story. It has the pace and feel of a novel. Instead of a lengthy introduction, the characters are introduced by way of their actions and, as a reader, I felt I really understood them and their motivations. The pace is fast moving, the action never slowing down or fizzling. And, the sex is ridiculously hot! But really. Super hot.

More importantly, though, it’s believable. Both the sex and the characters. Sure, these are two supernatural beings who have an outrageously hot encounter while in the midst of a magical heist. Not exactly a realistic plot, I know. But even in such a short tale, enough of their world is built and described that they are able to move within that world without leaving the reader confused. No matter how paranormal the tale, the battle of the sexes is timeless. No matter how paranormal the characters, strong willed males and females will typically act in certain ways to get what they want, whether it is the upper hand, unrestrained sex, or both. Polly and Max make a perfect pair of rivals. Both are intelligent, cunning, and powerful in their own ways. They aren’t afraid to get their, ahem, hands dirty in work or play. Each has an agenda and, naturally, their personal agendas are at odds. The tension between them is primarily sexual, and they take their battle of wills and wits to the bedroom (or the cramped confines of a closet). There’s nothing more normal than that.

I do have one very large problem with That Old Black Magic. I desperately wish it was longer. Between Polly and Max, I would love to know how the story ends.


If you are interested in reading That Old Black Magic, you can download it for free at Moira Roger's Web site.

Rating: 4.5/5

~Lily