Whiny Cynanthropes and Clichéd Insipid Tropes
(book requested by some reddit user)
Peartree’s note: I know we’ve done erotica quite a bit in the past and it’s such low hanging fruit it’s spoiled on the ground, but this review was started months ago as it was a request outside of the normal betting scheme and had no timeline, so I planned on finishing it. Besides, this one has a shape shifting beagle in it.
Editor’s note: Pssshh, Peartree is one to talk when to comes to low-hanging fruits. Know what I’m saying? Yeeaaaahh you do. High-five, up here. Nice.
Shapeshifter mythology has been around for a long time. From neolithic cave drawings in the Pyrénées to parts of ancient literary works like The Epic Of Gilgamesh and The Iliad, from bad ass wizard duels in the 1960’s (you can’t fuck with Merlin, Madam Mim) to the wonderful allegorical retelling of the Book of Mormon, Twilight, it is almost universallly found in mythologies across the globe. So it only makes sense to infuse homoerotic novels with such lore.
That being said, it is still a bit unsettling reading erotic sentences like this:
“Now, fuck your pup until I can’t walk for days and you have to carry me everywhere.”
Especially when you know it’s a beagle pup getting his Harry Partch reamed by a six foot two beefcake with a sexual dominance fetish.
You may ask yourself ‘Why a beagle?’ and to that I answer it was the only logical choice for a shapeshifting ‘sub‘ when you think about it. They are cute without being prissy like poodles, small but not chihuahua-small, excitable but not yappy like pomeranians, they aren’t jerks like jack russells, ugly like english bull dogs or pugs, or ‘mongoloid‘ like chow chows. So don’t overthink it. Lord knows the author never did.
This story has a lot going for it: therianthropy, beagles, homosexual encounters. Pretty much something for everyone. Nonetheless, Flynn still somehow manages to miss the mark. I can accept that most readers aren’t looking for a grand, developed plot with these kinds of books, but how about making the characters at least somewhat interesting and multidimensional.
On the the plot: Toby, our cutsie-wootsie cynanthrope, urinates on Randall, the sheriff of a small town. This marks him as his mate. Instantly, they are destined to be together for the rest of their lives. They begin to share each other’s thoughts and feelings in a magical telepathic link, and Randall suddenly develops the “strength of twenty men” if he’s trying to defend Toby.
Randall first gets a tingly feeling from his new beagle moments after Toby had pee’d on him. Well before he even knew this dog was a shapeshifter.
“He had a feeling this dog had wiggled into more than just his shirt.”
What. the. fuck. The guy is so strung up on getting laid he’s looking at dogs and having to actualize feelings of lust with himself. That’s some fucked up foreshadowing. But thankfully we’re solaced before things go too far into straight up bestiality.
“His sex life was bad, but not bad enough to push him into crazy world yet.”
No, it’s only after he sees Toby the beagle’s “sweet little ass” that he can’t help but be thrust into that world. Thrusted over and over and over again. For the next 72 pages, these two shoot off more man milk than Dan White, but once they finally get their Kermit Love out of their system, they get to the real meat of the story: the problem that forced Toby to come down from his pack in the mountains in the first place.
Toby and his pack have some disease, I can’t remember what it was but it was probably made up, like gonorrhea, and it’s killing them. It has killed, sorry, a few members of his pack. He went down for help but found his mate Randall instead. He gets some medicine from a vet and they bang for a few days while others are still dying up in the mountains. Then they decide to go up there with a truck load of medicine for everyone. Toby paid for all the medicine because he is “very smart” and started a web design company by himself at the age of 22 or something and makes hundreds of thousands of dollars a year. He even has over half a million sitting in his bank account when we first meet him. Randall hit that jackpot hard with this one. Like, “kneeling on the bed with restraints and a bottle of lube” hard.
Once they get back to the village they find out the pack leader was stealing money from Toby for himself (he seemed to have just been keeping it and doing nothing with it) and they have to kick him out. And the book ends with them fleshing out a plan to guard the pack from other larger shapeshifting packs, getting the other members to quit cam whoring themselves for money, and the veterinarian, also a homosexual, getting banged by some sex crazed exhibitionist shapeshifter. All before Randall sinks into Toby’s cinnamon star one final time, of course.
So that’s the story, aside from some revisiting of Randall’s orphaned childhood being beaten by foster parents and other such clichéd tropes. All in all I’ve read much worse. The thing that really gets this book down is the whiny — fucking — attitude of everyone. The first time they have aHerman Bang Toby declares his virgin love and says they’ll be mates for life. That should set off some warning bells for ol’ Randy, but instead he’s excited by it.
“You’re saying I’m the only man who’s ever going to be in this sweet ass?”
Toby says “Yes” and talks about these books he’s read on mating and how it’s destiny and he starts to feel Randall’s emotions and thoughts. Yet somehow Toby bitches out over everything Randall says and is convinced that he is going to leave him. Ejaculate prematurely and feel embarrassed? Turn into a dog and hide under the couch because you think your lover is disappointed and hates you. Tell him you love him after 24 hours and a few shit-fucks and he doesn’t say it back? Turn into a dog and run away. God damn it you emotional train wreck Toby. Put away your Long John Baldry for a second and just talk about your insecurities.
Not that Randall is any better. He constantly needs to be protective and is jealous of the thought of anyone else even touching Toby’s booty clam.
“Whose ass is this, Toby?”“My ass,” I answered, glancing at him over my shoulder, completely confused. When I saw the feral look on his face as he raised an eyebrow at me, I caught on to his meaning. “Your ass, Randall. My ass belongs to you.”
I won’t go on quoting but suffice to say it goes like this for the whole book. Maybe it’s about a passion that I know nothing of so can’t relate. Something which burns so deeply inside of you that it makes you irrational. Maybe that’s why these books are so popular. So people can get away from their mediocre relationships and imagine a world where guys will throw caution to the wind and just fuck each other stupid and lose themselves in their lust. Personally that doesn’t sound too appealing though. It’s been my experience that when you lose yourself in lust you wake up with an Omega Mu and an empty bottle of whiskey. Next time I’m definitely trying out Randall’s dirty talk though.
“You look even better with my cock in your mouth than I’d imagined.”