Mancandy Monday: Hot Zombies

Welcome, welcome. It's zombie week here at chez Stein, due to the fact that my orsum zombie novel is out on Wednesday! Hurrah! So in celebration of this fact, I thought I'd create a little infomercial for you. A guide, if you will, on how to survive the zombie apocalypse. Which as the movies have told us repeatedly, is definitely on its way.

In fact, the movies themselves often give splendid advice on what to do, should you find yourself being chased by the various types of zombies. Such as:

Type A: People who've basically been slathered in grey paint then told to walk as though they're almost pooing themselves. (The original Dawn of the Dead, for example)

Type B: People with red contact lenses who've basically been told to scare the shit out of me forever. (28 Days Later)

Type C: People with funny coloured contact lenses that kind of turn into these withered stick insect looking things, then get you in the dark. (Rec)

In all of the above movies there are plenty of examples of what you can and cannot do to save yourself. If you're being hounded by pooing people slathered in grey paint, there's plenty of time for you to run away. And maybe laugh, while you're doing it. You can build a mall fortress, or possibly shoot a lot of guns at the ravening hordes.

If you live in England and are suddenly beset by running maniacs with red contact lenses, however, you may find yourself fairing slightly less well. For one, England has no guns. But we're also a bit like Game of Thrones only older, so there are bound to be swords lying around for you to grab.

As for the advice on the last type of zombie, which seems to be the result of some sort of demonic possession and ends with you trapped in a pitch black room with something night vision can't quite identify, I'd say the best bet is just to sob and let it eat you.

Or at least, that's the advice I took from Rec. But there are plenty of other zombie movies with better advice, I promise! Zombieland even actually gives you the advice in handy bullet points, which I dutifully noted down in my Big Book of Being Shit Scared of Zombies.

However, there's one point that all of these movies and books have never quite dwelt on. One crucial bit of advice that's missing:

What if the zombie you're facing is a total hottie?

Now I know what you're thinking. Charlotte, zombies can't be hot! And maybe you're also thinking: God, I hope Charlotte's book is not about hot zombies (I swear to God, it's not. It's about totally hot humans going at it menage stylee in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, to counteract all the death and horror they've been through).

But you know me, people. I cannot abide Mancandy wastage, no matter how covered in grey paint it may be. I will not sit idly by and see good manbeef go to waste, even if said manbeef has started losing parts. How on earth would someone like me cope with seeing a perfectly good slice of hunk turn to zombie? How could I raise my machete/Ice from Game of Thrones and thwart this handsome blight on the human race?

Well never fear, gentle reader. I have compiled a handy guide on how to identify and destroy the hot zombie!

First up, we have an easy one for your edification:

The signs you need to look past the hotness for are obvious, here. I mean, rationally our loins will know that this is Aidan Gillen. We can see evidence of his masterful hair, his intense Irishness, his glorious man-stubble. His mouth is still a lush garden of kissability. But you'll probably find yourself resisting the urge to kiss even without my advice, because one of his eyes appears to have popped out of the socket and is rolling around on his face.

Of course, if that's not enough to help you resist the hotness and fight the zombie, there are also the patches of decaying flesh. I have represented these patches by liberally spraying Aidan with the spraycan from MS Paint, because I am shit at drawing. Apologies if this flaw of mine one day winds up getting you all killed by hot zombies.

And now onto the second example of undead beauty:

Although Bradley is trying to pretend he's not a zombie by employing a broad and handsome grin, we can clearly see by the undead eyes that he's already become one of the unclean, diseased, rabid monster creatures. And if the undead eyes from out of the movie Krull were not enough of a clue, the fact that one of his ears is hanging off almost certainly is.

Don't be fooled, people. Reach for that axe, even as your loins demand you snog his undead face off. Maybe literally.

And finally, we get to the hardest test of all: hot zombie Armie Hammer. Because of course Armie is so handsome that zombification barely touches him. It tries to make him turn grey and lose limbs, but a scientific condition I've called "Extreme Cockmastery" keeps him almost whole and normal looking. You find yourself drawn in by his promises of "Unh unh" and his rabid gargling. He's even worn a crafty pair of sunglasses to hide his demonic eyes from your view. Of course the sunglasses are hideous, but that's not the point.

The Armie Hammer level of hot zombie is wily. But if you're careful, and you keep your wits about you, you can clearly see blood running out of his left ear. Blood running out of someone's ear during a zombie apocalypse is almost never a good sign.

And that's the end of my guide. If you enjoyed, and would like to hear more about the zombie apocalypse and also about lusty bonking, please visit here on Wednesday:

http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/m8/318-201-107-490-1--reawakening-forever-dead-series-book-one-by-charlotte-stein.html

I promise you won't regret it.

Party Games

So I'm doing another promo - I know, I know. I shouldn't have so many fabulously talented friends. So little time, so many great books to talk about!

But this time it's the turn of my lovely writer friend Elise Hepner, who's very first extra special release came out from Ellora's Cave last week! Hooray!

Show her some new writer love and check out the cover:

The blurb:

William’s boring lovemaking leaves Catherine unsatisfied. Harboring fantasies she can’t put into words, she longs for a sexual voice but finds herself too stifled by her proper social upbringing.

When a blackout hits their resort hotel and William proposes a sexy version of hide-and-seek, playtime takes on a whole new salacious meaning. Charlotte’s mind races with sexual scenarios. But even her fantasies fail to compare to the titillating adventure her husband has planned for her—with the help of another man.

Soon everything she knows about lust will be irreversibly changed—and she’ll moan for more.

And a fabulously sexy excerpt:

Reader Advisory: Contains scorching-hot M/M/F sexual scenarios, a woman giving orders on an erotic high and slight trickery.

Her fingers trembled—should she risk giving into fear and walk out of the closet or wait for William? Without a doubt he’d planned this as a sexual hunt. A naughty bedroom game. But huddled among heirloom furs in her thin silk slip, she was already prey.
“I’ve got you.”
She couldn’t mistake that wicked laugh. It was him. David, who had been a friend at galas she’d attended, but whose body she couldn’t help tracing with her gaze as he had made his way around the room. He was magnetic—and something she shouldn’t want. Which made her desire flare to life every time he had kissed her hand in formal greeting. Through her glove, his lips had been a seal of heat that had built underneath her flesh.
Until a sexual beast she hadn’t known she held inside roared to get out. Had it been fate that he had found her here? Or perhaps something more devious. Either way she couldn’t push back the relief that flooded her limbs at the sound of his voice.
At last, a voice she knew. One of the doors to her left unlatched and creaked, jerking back to reveal a lean, masculine figure against the weather’s cruel backdrop. One of his large hands groped her breast and tweaked the tender nipple. She muffled a groan between her clenched teeth. Goodness, this was wrong—but he moved in beside her and closed the door.
His fingers crept over her body against the slide of silk. He was gentle, but underneath her skin there was an elated tingle where he touched her, his caress stripping her mind of all logical thought. She wanted him everywhere at once. His heavy palms pressed and curved against her like he would memorize her form in the dark. He found her every reactive spot.
Against his eagerness she rose to the occasion. Their breaths came out in loud, tortured rasps. The roar of rolling thunder silenced their noises as the darkness shrouded them from reality. When his hand grasped her hip and he drew her in tight against his body, his cock against her stomach was a heated, pulsing barrier between them.
“I’ve always wanted you, from that insipid garden party until this moment.”
“Why?”
“You’re my ultimate conquest. My sweet as sin fantasy. I want to please you as only an illicit lover can please his lady.” He whispered against her cheek so she could only focus on the low rumble of his voice. “You need me.”
She wouldn’t deny it.
“Then take me.” She sought out his lips. The thrill of possible sin with another man made her flesh burn from his touch.
William must have his fair share of dalliances outside their marriage bed. What would be the harm in her having just this one? Her husband worked nights often. She knew what the sewing circles whispered. William had never made any motion to make her doubt the gossip. If anything, his actions only enforced the rumors because he would come home at night with different women’s perfumes on his skin and wrinkles in his untucked shirts.
Briefly, the thought of her husband in an affair stung until she buried it away. They didn’t know each other well enough, like other married couples, for her to waste so much time on her emotions. Their courtship had never been a match of love, but their marriage was one of business between families.
So it didn’t make sense to waste pain on the hypothetical. It wasn’t as if she could change things. Where would hurt get her in the end? She wouldn’t be any better for it, so it was best for her to lock it away.
But surely William didn’t care enough for her for this to hurt him? He’d never done much but scold, reprimand or mount her―that is, when they saw each other at all. William couldn’t deny her curiosity. Not when David might bring her to life again. She couldn’t resist when the timing was so right.
If anything, William should be pleased that she might finally have fun in the bedroom—or a closet. Maybe this would teach her to bring her own desires to her husband. Wouldn’t that be ironic?
It was no secret that it took two to make a marriage. In or out of the bedroom. Though she and her husband had intercourse—because that was the only clinical thing to call it—often enough Charlotte rarely knew the whimsical pull of truly earth-shattering sex. Yes, she couldn’t begin to know how to ask for what she wanted—but William would probably laugh and then deny her everything.
David, on the other hand—he wouldn’t give her a choice in the matter. A hard, hot flush crept up her cheeks. There would be no going back now. She straightened her shoulders and came to her decision.
David held her back for a moment with his strong hands on her shoulders. Was he rethinking this? Caught between a frown and anger tightening her chest, she let it all go when he drew close again. Each inch was a mile. His tongue traced her lips in a sensory sweep that left her weak-kneed and dizzy.
As an excuse for something to do with her hands, she groped until she could begin to unbutton his dress shirt. When his mouth crushed hers, she took pleasure in exploring his hot, muscled upper body. God, it was much naughtier without lights.
When had been the last time she used the word naughty in her vocabulary? Not since school. And then it wasn’t for anything as serious as breaking a commandment or committing a sin. But if she was going to hell for the way David possessed her—body and soul—it was all worth it.
Now her hands trembled for an entirely different reason. Undeterred by his fingers inching up her slip, she raised her arms and her final protection slithered to the floor. In preparation for her husband, she’d removed all other garments that would get in his way before she got into the closet. William never liked to take his time. But now she leaned into David’s touch and tightened her grip on his body.
Determined to go slow with her exploration of his flesh—even knowing time wasn’t a luxury they had because of the game winding throughout the old resort hotel—she cupped the sides of his face in her palms. Under her hands his jaw hardened, a brief protest that died on his lips. He turned until his soft mouth delicately kissed her palm, sending a fluttery jolt of desire to her abdomen. Beneath his fingers she flushed from the attention as he traced her curves in tingling, barely there circles. Her fingers caressed his high cheekbones as she relied on her heightened sense of touch.
When his face tightened in a smile, she found the irresistible dimples that showed up whenever he complimented her at parties. Her fingers traced up and over his forehead, normally creased with concentration, and through his short, mussed curls. She didn’t need light to know and appreciate the raven color and feathery texture under her hands. A crash of thunder outside the room’s windowpanes made her startle and his wicked, honey brown irises lit up. From the crack in the closed doors there was just enough illumination to catch a glimpse of his cupid-bow lips parted in pleasure. His hungry gaze locked on her nude body.
“I like when you look at me like that.”
“Like what?” He coaxed her onward.
“When I glimpse my attraction and what I’ve wanted to do to you all those long months dancing in your eyes. I’m glad we understand each other.” She sealed her words with a scorching kiss of tongue and teeth. But it was with reluctance that she pulled back from his eager hands. “But we can only do this once. This is my time to be selfish, but I can’t take the prolonged guilt that these engagements take out of a person.”
“I think you’ve read too many romance novels.”
“Please. I’m serious, David.”
“All right,” He let out a small exhalation before returning to his deft work over of her body. “I’ll make it good then, my very best for the lady.”
Satisfied, she sank gratefully into his touch.

Awesome, eh? And she's lovely, too. So if you feel like reading some sexy shenanigans and supporting a new author, just click the link here:

http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9302-party-games.aspx

Guest Post: Shoshanna Evers!

So today my blog is going to be graced with the illustrious presence of Shoshanna Evers, who wrote the amazeballs novella, Ginger Snap. Which is about ginger figging. Yep - you heard that right. IT'S ABOUT GINGER FIGGING.

And if you don't know what that is, look it up, look it up NAO. Also: I love her.

But enough about my love for a woman who is only the second person I know to write about actual ginger figging, and on to the purpose for her presence gracing. She has a new book out! Take it away, Shoshanna!

Thanks for having me on your blog, Charlotte!

I’ve been lucky enough to get to know Charlotte a bit through Twitter. It’s always fun to meet another author who likes to read and write the same type of stuff (read: smexybooks) I do.
My latest book from Ellora’s Cave sort of pushes the limit of anything I’ve written before, content-wise. This is the first time I’ve shown the heroine get pleasured by more than just one man (in the scene where she’s tied up and eaten out by a dozen or so men, ya know, no big deal), and it’s also the first time I wrote some F/F/M scenes.
Those were *fun* to write, although the story is ultimately about the Hero and the Heroine finding love with each other. I think that other girl in the equation needs to find her own soul mate, so I’m hoping I’ll find some time to write her story in the future.

Here’s the blurb and an adults-only excerpt for Chastity Belt:

Georgia Hearn has found the perfect way to make easy cash—performing an interactive BDSM-flavored stage show at the exclusive Gentlemen’s Club. When handsome GC client Jonathan Syler goes up onstage and locks her into a chastity belt, it’s all supposed to be part of the fun. But Jonathan makes it clear he won’t be unlocking her anytime soon.
Now she’s at his mercy—and has no choice but to see him again, since he holds the key to her pleasure. Literally.

Reader’s Advisory: This book contains a hot girl-on-girl tease and denial scene and some F/F/M action.
By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.
An Excerpt From: CHASTITY BELT
Copyright © SHOSHANNA EVERS, 2011 All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

With the blindfold on, she had no idea how long she’d been there or how much longer she would be enduring the talented tongues of the Gentlemen’s Club clientele. Then she heard a familiar voice. Jonathan. Her pulse inexplicably raced at the sound of his voice as he leaned into her ear. She could feel the warmth of his skin, feel the whisper of his hot breath on her ear and smell just the slightest whiff of expensive cologne.
“Have you had enough, Georgia?”
Georgia didn’t know what to say. She instinctively tried to close her legs, forgetting again that they were bound far apart.
She felt his hand drop between her thighs and she moaned as he dipped his finger deep inside her pussy—and there was definitely no plastic wrap there. His finger felt so good and so wrong at the same time. She shouldn’t be letting him do this. How could she want Jonathan so much when she had just been thoroughly sated by a dozen other men?
Of course. It was all that talk about the chastity belt. Casey had to have been behind that—she must have tutored Jonathan on exactly what to say to have Georgia begging for more. That had to be it. Right?
She heard the other men in the audience start cheering and clapping. What on earth were they going on about now? Then she felt it.
Something smooth and cold as ice was being slid under her buttocks. It felt like a thin piece of metal nestled against her ass crack. The same metal, but wider it seemed, pressed against her pussy and then she felt Jonathan’s hands firmly gripping her waist. She heard a click.
The applause grew louder. What on earth? She fought the urge to say “umbrella” and get the hell out of there. She wouldn’t, not now.
The blindfold came off. Georgia squinted at the bright spotlight until her eyes readjusted. Jonathan smiled and knelt before her, dropping a tender kiss to her inner thigh in a quick, almost secretive motion before he uncuffed first one ankle and then the other. She looked down—what had he placed on her?
She gasped. It couldn’t be. Georgia didn’t say a word until Jonathan uncuffed her wrists. The she immediately grabbed at what looked like a stainless steel thong between her legs. It was literally locked into place.
No way. She had to be dreaming. Fantasizing still. Because if this was actually happening, then she was in way over her head.
“Get this off of me!” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm.
Jonathan grinned. “Of course, it’s just part of the show,” he whispered. “The men just like to see it, that’s all. Now pick up your money and blow a kiss to your fans.”
Her money? Oh, that’s right! She looked on the ground below the chair and saw it was covered in ten- and twenty-dollar bills. She grinned and picked them up quickly, trying to look as sexy and graceful as possible while crawling around under the chair on her knees. She couldn’t count it just yet, she’d have to wait until later. After Jonathan unlocked the chastity belt.
Georgia picked her rumpled clothing off the floor before she stood and did as Jonathan said, smiling and blowing kisses to the audience. She walked off the stage, naked except for the metal device locked around her groin, and sauntered into the back office. The cash sure felt nice crumpled in her hand.
She looked over her shoulder. Good. Jonathan was following her with the key. She knocked on the office door and when she didn’t hear an answer she stepped inside. Jonathan stepped into the office and closed the door quietly behind him.
“You did great,” he said.
My goodness, he’s a handsome devil. Georgia smiled and turned to put her bra on.
“I’ve seen you naked,” he said, amusement creeping into his deep voice. “Why would you turn around so I can’t see your breasts as you dress?”
Georgia laughed and turned around again. “I don’t know. Can you unlock me so I can put my panties and skirt back on?”
“You can put your skirt back on over the chastity belt.”
The thought stopped her cold. Her fantasy was just that, a fantasy. She could never act it out in real life, even if the thought turned her on. It just wasn’t rational. “Um, no thanks. I’m leaving now, so…unlock me.”
Jonathan fingered the key in his hand before slipping it into his pocket. “No.”
What does he mean, no? Her pussy clenched in excitement at his refusal, but she shook her head. It had been fun to talk about, but this wasn’t actually going to happen. She was done. She was taking her money and going home. Georgia quickly counted through the cash in her hand. Whoa. Two hundred dollars. That plus the one hundred from Vincent and Mary Ann and she had just made three hundred dollars in an hour.
She looked up at Jonathan and sighed. “Umbrella, then. I’m ready to call it a night.”
“And I said no. I will not unlock your chastity belt.” Jonathan’s handsome face was serious and thoughtful.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said the safeword. I said umbrella, that means I’m serious and you have to unlock me.”
Jonathan took a step toward her and she had to tilt her chin up to gaze into his deep brown eyes. “I’m not playing a game anymore, Georgia. You’re mine now. The chastity belt stays—for a full week, just like you told me.” His lips came down on hers then, pressing against her mouth until she felt herself melting into his kiss, opening her mouth to receive his tongue despite her best intentions not to encourage him.
“Please,” she whispered. “Unlock me.” But even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew that if he did unlock her, she’d be disappointed. This man—this stranger—was making her fantasy come true.


You can buy Chastity Belt from Ellora's Cave here. http://www.jasminejade.com/p-9270-chastity-belt.aspx If you have a Kindle, you can get the MobiPocket format (.prc). For the Nook, get the ePub format. If you want to read on your computer, get the Adobe PDF. :)

Sexily *Evers* After… ShoshannaEvers.com Twitter Facebook Blog Titles at Ellora’s Cave

Mancandy Tuesday: Petyr "Littlefinger" Baelish

Yes it's more Game of Thrones just shhh ok? Let me have my feelings. Let me have my feelings. My feelings are burning out of control in the groinal region for this GQ motherfooker right here:

Rolling into King's Landing in his pimp mobile, with his badass self all up in Ned Stark's face, going on about how Catelyn Stark totally gave it up to him that one time because Jesus Christ how could she not? I'd have given it up to him the moment he clicked his fingers, despite the fact that he is:

a) A fictional character in a series of fantasy novels by George RR Martin.

b) A total pervert, perving all over a thirteen year old girl. Though luckily, Sansa Stark looks about twenty-seven in the TV adaptation, so I don't have to get too skeeved out every time I watch Aidan Gillen (the guy who plays Petyr) almost lick her shoulder with his long, lascivious tongue. And yes I know Aidan Gillen has a long lascivious tongue because over the weekend I watched him RIM SOME GUY on the TV show Queer as Folk. Which begs two questions: why did I not have this show in my life before? And: why did I not have this show in my life before? IT HAS AIDAN GILLEN RIMMING SOMEONE IN IT. HIS TONGUE ACTUALLY GOES BETWEEN SOME GUY'S CHEEKS I SWEAR TO GOD I ALMOST MELTED.

c) A complete bastard. No, no really, he's a bastard. And I'm not even really spoiling what happens next in the TV show saying that, because just fooking look at him, for God's sake:

They couldn't have made him more obviously evil looking if they'd given him a scar down one side of his face and a pointed black hat.

And even if the look of him with his evil pedo beard isn't enough, the fact that he is played by Aidan Gillen should be an almighty giveaway. Because not only has Aidan Gillen made a career out of playing some of the skeeviest characters man ever put to celluloid, there is also a picture of him out there looking like this:

I mean, just take a long look at that picture. Have you ever in your life seen a more evil looking human being? I didn't even know they MADE humans that evil. It's like all the evil in the world is shining right out of his eyeballs. I'm afraid to look at them, and they're only made out of pixels on my computer screen!

Though in all honesty, that picture is probably like the movie Ring. You look into his demonic eyes and the next thing you know, he's crawling out of your computer screen in a weird backwards crab double jointed horror show, to eat your immortal soul. I can feel him eating it now, as I type this. I want to urge you to run, run from the terror of Aidan Gillen's unholy stare, but the truth is I'd only be doing it so he crawls out of my computer screen and not yours.

I mean, I'm bound to get a couple of minutes in between screaming and being turned into a rigid corpse. I could totally do him in that time. He's so hot I'm certain it'd only take me a matter of seconds to tear his kit off and have sex with his face.

I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He's evol. Just look at him. He probably does it the bad way. With, you know. Things. And stuff.

By God I want to do things to his stuff.

Mancandy Wednesday: Tyrion Lannister

There's one thing that bothers me about casting Peter Dinklage as Tyrion in the new Game of Thrones adaptation. I mean, yes, yes. He's an amazing actor. He makes every witty thing Tyrion says in the books come to unearthly life. He's both grave and teasing, serious and not. Everything is almost perfect about him, except for one thing.

The books describe Tyrion thusly:

"grotesque"

"Head too large for his body, squashed-in face beneath a shelf of brow"

"ugly"

And then this is the gorgeous flawless handsome motherfucker they cast:





And it's even worse in the show! He looks even more handsome, despite the fact that shouldn't be earthly possible:




I mean, seriously. How is Jaime Lannister supposed to be "the handsome one" with this flawless God walking around the place, being his usual badass self? I don't even get why he's always having to pay for it, because if I was some warrior queen* shooting the shit out of everybody in George RR Martin's fantasy world, you can bet your ass I'd be all over him like white on rice. Or something more medieval-y, like skins on a potato.

And then I'd murder all the Lannisters and all the Starks and just fucking everybody, and rule the realm with him as my King.

Because you know he deserves to be. I've read all of book one and almost all of book two in a fever of reading-crack, and you have to know that Tyrion Lannister only gets even more badass and flawless as the story progresses. Never mind King of Westeros. He deserves to be King of Everything right here and now.

And then inbetween being King of Everything he can be a filthy little lecher all over me. Lech to your heart's content, my love. Lech until the cows come home. Let us lech in our feather bed of deviant iniquity, with all the delights of Medieval Land around us: suckling pig, mead, strange sexual devices the likes of which my own pristine world has never known.

Or failing that, I could just watch you slap the shit out of Joffrey forever and ever and ever:




*Status of self in George RR Martin's fantasy world may have been greatly exaggerated. In fact, it's far more likely that I'd just be some fat peasant wench and Tyrion Lannister wouldn't bother himself to fart in my general direction.

Hot Zombie Threesomes

And no, I don't mean zombies having sex with each other. I mean humans having sex with each other in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, hurrah!

Because that's totally what happens in the middle of my zombie apocalypse book, Reawakening. Apocalypse getting you down? Too many zombies to just kick back and relax?

Have a threesome. It's a well known cure for almost any amount of gore, terror, and death.

And the reason I'm giving this public service announcement? Resplendence Publishing agreed to take on my mad, horny, zombie apocalypse opus, and here's the cover for it:



Orsum, right? Look at the flames! The gigantic amount of glorious male ass! The shadowy things that could possibly be zombies! I love that they put the shadowy things on there.

And I love all the nakedness, too, because I specifically asked for some and oh, the wonderful art department there obliged.

Can you tell I'm psyched about this? Doubly so because I honestly thought this story might never see the light of day. I became scared of it (probably because it's full of marauding zombies and Sharlto Copley's twin brother being too handsome for my eyes to bear), and wasn't sure if I should press on with trying to get it published.

But there's a lesson in that: always press on. Thank you to my lovely editors both at EC and RP for reminding me of that.

Mancandy Monday: Punk Armie

Look, right. I'm totally allowed to do this. Just because I've already had, like, seventeen Armie Hammer posts, does not mean I cannot have another one under the guise of him being a totally different person.

Because behold!

In the shitty DTV suspense horror trapped in an elevator movie Blackout, he actually does look like a different person! Hoorah, double the fantasies!

And you know I'm having them double fantasies. I mean, God, just look at him:

Just look at how much he seems like he's wearing eyeliner. But you know what? I don't even think it is eyeliner. I think his eyelashes are just so immense and dark they block out all sunlight. You could use them to shade yourself on the beach. In fact, you could just use all of Armie Hammer to shade yourself on the beach, because he's the size of a truck and also he seems very amenable, even when he's playing a disaffected punk type.

Which as you all know, is something I sort of maybe like a little bit. Big solid man? Check. Hairy all over? Check. Willing to do anything like some sort of mad, sexually flexible and over eager puppy? CHECK CHECK CHECK.

Though in truth, none of these things are what I like about punk Armie. Punk Armie is more broody, he's more secretive, he probably has piercings in his knob. Or if not in his knob, than at least in a nipple or two.

And though I rarely think about piercings, when they're on Armie Hammer I find myself thinking about them a lot. I think about the earring he's got in the cartilage of his ear, as Punk Armie, and somehow that's even hotter than the idea of one being in his nipple. I want to bite the piercing in the wrong bit of his ear, and lick it, and pull it, and ask him what the fook he was thinking putting it there.

And then maybe I want to ask him about all the other mysterious things on his body, like the tattoos - because seriously, what better pleasure is there to be had with a punk than exploring all of his markings like a dog looking for fleas on another dog? Like that bit in Lethal Weapon 3 when they share scars, only cool and without that racist woman beating douchebag Mel Gibson.

Punk Armie would never rant about Jewish sugary boobies, or whatever it was Mel said. Punk Armie is glorious and quiet and in my head he's forever saving my heroine from a life of repression and mediocrity.

Which is so the other way around to the things I usually write that I just have to love him more. Next thing you know I'll be writing about him tying my heroine up then spanking her with a paddle, and then where will we be?

Slap bang in the middle of the apocalypse, that's where.

P.S. The single title release of my menage tale, Lust Dazed, is out now from Total-e-Bound: http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1164 But just to be absolutely clear, it was previously released in the anthology Threefold!