Rhyll Biest's Blog

Get Dirty with Cate Ellink and her new rugby romance

Want to win a bunch of books? Simply tweet or post the link to this page and tag @CateEllink. She'll pick a random winner on August 5.

Your prize will include (e-books) rugby union/league romances:

Team Player by Cate EllinkDeep Diving by Cate EllinkPlaying by Her Rules by Amy AndrewsPlaying It Cool by Amy AndrewsCaitlin's Hero by Donna Gallagher.

And several saucy romances:

Unrestrained by Rhyll BiestBought by Nicolette HugoThe Duke’s Gamble by Elyse HuntingtonDiving In by Andra AsheDoubled by Charlotte SteinCrosstown Crush by Cara McKennaFlesh by Kylie Scott.

Narratives: Do you want to try something different?

By Sarah Belle 

Part One

Most stories we read and write follow a lineal temporality, that is the time-frame starts at the beginning (a Monday) and concludes at the end (a Friday). The story has progressed over a chronological time period. However, if trying something different with the temporal order of your writing appeals to you, why not try some of the following literary devices?

Analepsis (also known as a flash back). This device is commonly used to reveal characterisation, motivation, previous interactions between characters or events that have taken place prior to the time period of the narrative. Most writers have used analepsis in the form of memories, nightmares or recall during dialogue or prologues.

Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness is told entirely in flashback with Marlow sharing the story of his Belgian Congo trip with his shipmates. The Girl on the Train also uses analepsis as a device to piece together the puzzle-style plot where reversal and recognition occur simultaneously. Reversal is where the plot opposes both the protagonists’ and audiences’ expectations (the twist when we discover her bastard ex-husband’s dubious past) and recognition is when the protagonist and audience become aware of this reversal (in this story reversal and recognition are simultaneous for both audience and protagonist. However, this device can be used to create dramatic irony in which the reader’s recognition occurs prior to the protagonists and is a wonderful mechanism to drive tension and suspense.)  Shutter Island is another brilliant use of analepsis as powerful a literary device to reflect the protagonists mental condition and to subvert traditional chronological linearity in order to create a specific narrative effect, tone or mood. In the case of Shutter Island it was easy, as a viewer, to feel as disoriented as Frank in the dislocated temporal order. Crafting this response from an audience is brilliant work on behalf of Scorcese.

Prolepsis is a flash forward, such as Charles Dicken’s Christmas Carol in which Scrooge is shown his future. Scrooge then has the opportunity to change his future by his actions in the present. Another example is Stephen King’s The Dead Zone in which Johnny Smith (Christopher Walken in the movie version) awakes from a coma to discover he has the gift-curse of seeing visions of the future. Writers use prolepsis for multiple reasons; to disrupt temporality, as a metaphor, to reflect a characters’ state of mind, as a hook to grab the readers’ attention or tell a story using a more sophisticated or complex narrative structure. Prolepsis reveals elements of plot that are yet to occur and is designed to pique the reader's interest and enhance suspense and tension (Yikes! Does that event really happen or can it be stopped in time?). The Minority Report or Déjà Vu with Denzel Washington are excellent examples of prolepsis in film and demonstrate its effectiveness in creating dramatic irony and suspense when executed properly.

Some authors use both analepsis and prolepsis concurrently, such as Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughter House 5 which also traversed real and fantasy settings (I recommend this book as it's amazing). The effect is a completely disjointed temporal order leaving most readers questioning whether the story is set in the past, present or future and (therefore) whether the analepsis is really prolepsis or a current narrative. However, Vonnegut’s story was an anti-war message and he stated that the fractured linearity of his story was meant to reflect the absurdity and dysfunctionality of the act of war. Few writers can pull this off properly. Vonnegut was an exceptional writer and made this narrative structure work perfectly for this particular story. Films that have utilized this concept well include Inception (love, love, love) and Memento (Christopher Nolan you cinematic time-lord).

In Media Res is when the story starts in the middle of what would be the linear chronological order of events and then works forwards in time until it is temporally lineal again. I did this in my first novel Hindsight because after writing it in a lineal format, I found it was rather boring! I needed a hook to entice the reader and relocating what was originally the middle of the book (Juliette waking up in 1961 instead of modern day) in the prologue was the right way to start that story. 

In Media Res is used to disjoint time, to pose the question ‘how did we get here?’ which the narrative will answer. It was first used by Horace and is Latin for ‘in the middle of things’ (rough translation seeing as my Latin is very basic). It is one of storytelling’s original tropes, having been identified in Poetics by Aristotle.  So, with such a heritage, In Media Res is a cultural winner for storytelling.

Wuthering Heights (how I worship your talent Miss Bronte!) is a wonderful example of In Media Res in which we are introduced to the strange Wuthering Heights estate and instinctively know that it has a dark history (even if Lockwood is too stupid to realise it).

Nellie Dean commences the story of Cathy and Heathcliffe by telling Lockwood of their doomed love for each other and how that doomed love escalated into the tragic events of the present where Catherine is held prisoner at the Heights. The narrative then reveals the events leading up to present time and then follows with a lineal temporality until the conclusion of the story.

So, there you have three literary devices which can be used to vary the temporality of stories. Each has a specific effect and is worth considering as a mechanism by which we can enhance and differentiate our narratives. Join us for Part 2 which will cover narrative style, including epistolaries and frametales.

 

Andra Ashe on the Real Romance Writers of Melbourne

Hearts are a flutter and creative juices are simmering for a small group of Melbourne romance writers this weekend. No, we haven't just found out the Hemsworth brothers are looking for a group of willing women to fine tune their seduction techniques (that's at our next monthly meeting).

But it's the next best thing. Our annual retreat. Fifteen women, in one house, for one weekend. Different personalities. Differing opinions. A recipe for a potential 'real housewives' scenario? Absolutely. But instead of big bucks, designer clothes and big egos we have a common passion and empathy for what that brings and the only raised voices will be those raised in laughter. For all out different backgrounds and situations an stages in our writing careers, we have genuine respect and support for each other. Makes me wonder whether to receive the trappings of wealth you have to sell your 'just be a nice person' gene to the devil. 

The Melbourne Romance Writers at their annual retreat.

If we do feel the urge to channel a 'housewife' we will be in a fancy-shmancy house for the weekend, but we're writers so it goes back to the owner on Sunday. Instead of ripping each other apart we'll dissect each other's writing, listen to workshops and discuss our craft – without expletives or tears, or cleavage or botox. No French bubbles, but lots of home cooked food and talking and chocolate. 

But you know we want more. Karaoke and Academy Award winning charades performances are added bonuses, like steak knives, but more fun (although our resident romantic suspense author, who loves a good serial killerwould probably prefer the knives). After flexing writing muscles all day artistic energy is still buzzing and hidden singing and acting abilities are lured into the open. Maybe some would be better kept hidden but just like we don't discriminate between novice and established writers, the nightingale is as welcome as the budgerigar.

Melbourne romance writers keep it real. The dress code is 'whatever works for you', not 'designer'. In my case, it's daggy. Comfy tracky pants and woolly socks are pretty much de riguer. No make-up. No fuss. No judgement. 

However at the Saturday night themed dress-up parties, alter-egos do make an appearance. Sometimes it's easy to guess who might don a dinosaur onesie or low cut corset, sometimes we're surprised. It's all about learning more about each other. I'm dusting off my ten year old black sequined number for this weekend's 'You're Fabulous' diva theme (Gina Liano eat your heart out).  As much as I love my comfort clothes, it doesn't take much to entice me into something glam and a pair of stilletos.

It will, however, take nipple clamps, or the promise of that visit from the Hemsworths, to get me to karaoke.

Cate Ellink's Improper Use of Social Media

This is Cate, perving on you while you're on social media.

I’ve always struggled with social media. I kind of ‘get’ that it’s a way of connecting everyone…but I’m happy not connecting, especially with strangers. This means that I don’t quite understand the reasons why people are so attracted to the medium, but it also means I’ve got no real clue how/why to use it.

But…I’m beginning to find a place for it in my life. I’m just not using it ‘properly’.

I see authors doing it ‘right’. They have funny, witty, clever, interesting posts all the time. They connect with people and chat away, and in doing this they find a following. Some of them link all their social media accounts so you get their news on every platform. Time efficient and caters for everyone. But geepers, seeing the same stuff everywhere drives me bonkers, so I follow them on one thing no matter how many times they try to tempt me to more connections.

I have no hope of doing what they do. For a start, I’m one of the most boring people on earth. I have no cute kids/pets photos or anecdotes. I work alone, so I have no workmate tales. Mr E disdains social media, so I can’t put much up about him because (a) he doesn’t ‘get’ why I would, and (b) someone might tell him what I say!

Talking about my writing isn’t something I’m comfortable with. My process is one where I have to write the story before I know what the story is, or who the characters are. If I share too early (i.e. before I finish) then it’s too easy for me to run off on someone else’s idea and lose my way.

Talking about my completed stories…well, that’s old! Once they’ve left my place, then the characters become quiet because their story is done. They leave me. I often struggle to remember who they were, and what their story was about.

God, I’m so weird. I feel like a neurotic fruitcake.

Before I get caught up in my eccentricities and concern about myself, let me tell you how I’ve managed to enjoy social media.

Briefly, I’m a voyeur.

Facebook seems to be the place where writers hang out. I belong to writing groups there were information is passed and things are discussed. I chat, keep up to date, find new releases, and try to join in. Sometimes I’ll post something myself.

Twitter is more me. I can drop a short tweet and walk away. I can read a lot of stuff quickly. I follow the footy (NRL brand mostly) on here and love that quick insight into players and teams. I especially love the (sometimes) witty exchanges between groups of NRL players tweeting each other, or bagging each other out. It makes me remember that they’re people too.

Instagram is for photos, or so my head says. Sometimes I take a photo and pop it up there but mostly I follow people with awesome photos—divers, beach photographers, drone users, artists and astronauts. At the moment, I’m hooked on the International Space Station and their astronauts, with their incredible photos of earth (@ISS). I refill my well with Instagram.

Pinterest is for when I’m stuck with my writing. I can hunt for photos to help with descriptions or to spark an idea. It’s fun and completely time consuming if I’m in a procrastinating mood.

Tumblr is sexy stuff, although it took me a while to find the sexy stuff (I had to follow another Ninja who knew this so much better than me!). This platform doesn’t seem to have the ‘controls’ that other platforms do, so there’s some amazing content. It’s brilliant for ideas, or helping with descriptions of all things sex. Sometimes I come across something that reminds me that I do have limits. And they have little hearts to like a post, and when you unlike it, the heart breaks—that’s so damn cute!

Blogging is something I’ve done for years and I like it. But I blog for myself. I’m not doing it to have people read it, or argue with me, or even agree with me. I just like to ramble on as I try to work out my thoughts. In the beginning, I was very regimented about the days I blogged, now I’m slacker. But blogging is still fun.

So that’s my improper use of social media. I don’t use it as a tool to connect with others, except in a voyeuristic capacity. When people follow/like me, I’m shocked. I’m constantly amazed how people find my profile and why they would follow/like me, but so far it hasn’t led to terrible things, so I’ll just keep doing my thing and enjoying it my way.

How do you use social media?

Holding out for a Hero: Or, who would you invite to your place for vodka?

By Lily Malone (AKA the Beanie Queen)

The other day I got asked this question: “If you could sit down with three characters or authors for morning tea, who would they be?”

It’s the same version of a question I’ve been asked a few times since I started writing. The setting changes, as does the number of people I’m allowed to invite.

For some reason, (and I blame fellow ninja, Rhyll Biest) when I answered the question for a blog post the other day, I opted for two of Rhyll’s fictional heroes to join me for morning tea. I asked for Stein (from the book Unrestrained) and Belovuk (from Shelter). I had just finished reading Shelter at the time (brilliant book) which put this pair front and centre in my mind.

I opted to serve vodka for morning tea, just to see what might eventuate with these two Eastern European man-mountains, and for my third character I opted for a fictional fireman to hose us all down. Let’s face it, there would be a fair amount of hot flushing going on, were I to have Stein and Belovuk at my place for morning tea vodka.

Having discovered I now definitely have a ‘type’... and being that I’m now very much in the mood, and it *is* a large bottle of vodka, I thought I’d invite a few more to join me and make it a party, Stein, Belovuk, a broad-shouldered man-mountain fireman... plus???

Hello!

Jason Bourne and Lucas Davenport.

Bourne will need no introduction. But Lucas might.

Both Bourne and Davenport I’d put in the ‘brooding’ hero category. Of course, they are also highly dangerous and pretty much in any list of lethal weapons.

Lucas Davenport is the central character, a cop, in the ‘Prey’ series by my favourite author, John Sandford. In every ‘Prey’ book I’ve read (and I think they’re up to about 25 of them), Lucas is given a paragraph or two of description first time we meet him. It will pretty much always go something like this: ‘A tall, slender, wide-shouldered man with blue eyes and a smile that he’s always been told “scares people.” There’s a fine scar from his hairline to the right corner of his mouth (caused by a fishing hook accident) and another on his throat, courtesy of his wife Weather (a surgeon) who performed a tracheotomy when Lucas was knifed by a girl in the woods and Weather saved his life. Dark-complexioned, with straight black hair going grey at the temples and a long nose over a crooked smile. One of his central upper incisors had been chipped in an ice hockey match in his youth and he never had it capped.”

Over the years I’ve been reading the Prey novels, Lucas has got older. He’s pushing 45 now, and there’s more grey than black at those temples. He’s got a bit slower, although he runs every day to keep fit. He’s still very likely to hurl himself into any fray with his fists... but smart enough to know that these days some of the blokes might be likely to belt him one back, so he always carries a gun.

Lucas hits all my buttons, like Matt Damon’s Jason Bourne, but even though I adore the scenes in the Bourne movies or the Prey books which are all out action, it is always the softer side of these big tough heroes that makes me melt.

In the first Bourne movie, it’s the moment in the hotel room after that crazy car chase in Paris when Jason cuts Marie’s hair... oh, le sigh.

In the Prey series, while I love the character of Weather (Lucas’s wife comes along a few books into the series) I miss those early books when Lucas is loutish, roguish and naughty, and tends toward dalliances with female cops or his lady characters... and he’s great in the sack.

Stein and Belovuk, oh but they are gorgeous slabs of mancake granite. Stein makes up vegetable poetry in a supermarket; and Belovuk rescues kittens!!

And both are great in the sack.

So I doubt very much if I’m alone in this one ladies... I’m holding out for a hero to drink vodka with who is big, broad-shouldered, not afraid of leaping into any kind of fight; yet gentle enough to drink his vodka from a coffee cup with a picture of a unicorn pooping glitter.

He’s my fictional hero and he is VERY welcome at morning tea.

So, come on. Spill! Who is yours?

 

Georgina "Glitterpants" Penney gives Facebook the Flick

It was one post in late 2016 that did it. A friend tagged me in a funny video of a sleepy cat in a bunny costume trying to wake up enough to drink from his water bowl. Cutest. Thing. Ever. But then again, I’m a sucker for cats. I might even qualify proudly as a cat lady as long as that involves receiving a cape from some mysterious catty organisation that monitors things like that kind of thing.  

So, the video was playing for the twentieth time (because of the cuteness) and while watching kitty falling asleep next to his little bowl, I made the mistake of looking at the comments section. I know, right? I can sense that head slap you just did. I know that reading the comments on anything online is never a great thing. But this wasn’t Youtube. This was Facebook, on a post of a cute kitty too tired to drink water. 

And unsurprisingly, instead of being all lurved up, there was yelling lecturing, and ridiculousness to the point where the person running the page apologised for putting the video up because they had reposted the video from someone else’s page. In doing so, they’d inadvertently introduced the clip with the word ‘milk’ in the same sentence as ‘cat.’ Needless to say, it was readily apparent there was no milk in kitty’s bowl and people are idiots. 

I won’t go into further details and you can check the original post from instagram out yourself while turning to mush like I did at the cute kitty cat. 

So, I got to thinking… or more to the point, brooding. And I realised that Facebook and I have had a thing for a while. Essentially, for the past couple of years it’s felt like I’ve gotten out of bed, made myself a cup of tea and then walked into a room where a bunch of people are milling around—some of them goose-stepping around—screaming their thoughts and opinions so loudly they can’t actually hear what anyone else is saying. And because I’m a bit of a people pleaser and had brought into the whole ‘you have to be on every single social media platform in existence to succeed as a writer’ thing, I was spending waaaaay to much time there.

Now don’t get me wrong. My little metaphorical Facebook room isn’t all bad. There are cool people hanging out in the corners—The people I actually enjoy spending my real and virtual time with who post things I want to see. (Including pictures of cats, dogs, unicorns Guinea pigs and moles, because they are all awesome.) But after looking at my wall the morning after kitty-milk-gate, I realised I was looking at the awesome people’s post with an air of grumpiness because I’d just been shouted at by everyone else.

Looking at the comments on a cat video brought everything into focus and I realised that I actually dreaded visiting my Facebook wall every day. And with this realisation came the question “Why bother?”

Sure, FB has some great aspects that I don’t have to give up. It’s not like I’m entering into some kind of all-or-nothing vow or anything. I’m still using messenger, I still keep up with my local and writing communities by scanning their public pages once a week. And I I adore catching up with my Naughty Ninja broads on our secret Ninja dojo page for some private, non-shouty, ultra-dodgy conversation. 

I’m also keeping my author page to share news with the wonderful people that read my books but instead of hanging around there, I’m posting and then going back to writing more books because, presumably, that’s what my readers would prefer than to see my latest opinions about what I had for dinner.

In short, I’m just making an effort not to look at my wall at all and so far I’m feeling pretty good about it. It’s been a while now, and after spending the last few weeks not being subjected to shoutiness in the mornings, I have discovered the following:

When people haven’t been able to just check in with my posts and to then assume how I am, they’ve called, emailed or we’ve visited each other. The resulting conversations have been so much more enjoyable and meaningful, even if they’re only thirty seconds or for hours on end. I’ve enjoyed not knowing what’s going on in people’s lives. It’s meant that I’ve actually had to make an effort to ask my friends and colleagues how they are, which has frequently revealed that most of the things I’ve seen on their FB pages over the past couple of years has been much less interesting than their real lives at large.I like people more. Having travelled the world as I have and making friends from all over the place, it’s really nice to be back to asking what they think about religious and political things, rather than assuming what they think based on some of the crazy propaganda they’ve posted on Facebook at two in the morning after eating far too much midnight-cake. (Or maybe that was just me that did that...)I’ve got way more time on my hands to write long posts like this one. Waaaay more time on my hands. So much so that I’m back to reading that huge to-read pile of novels in my book case. So far I’ve got four more books read this month than I would have otherwise, I’ve written more and I’m weirdly had way more time to catch up with friends without losing working time.  

So, that’s where it’s at. I don’t know if my little Facebook wall embargo will go on forever. But if it does, it’s not like I don’t have Instagram, Twitter, my blog, skype, whattsapp and every other app under the sun to feel connected…

 

 

 

 

 

Where the research takes you: M99 and Harambe

One of the best things about writing fiction is the research. Sometimes one’s research leads to dark, strange places (which is, admittedly, the most fun of all). For example, when researching how a veterinarian might sedate an animal, I discovered the crazy powerful sedative etorphine (used to sedate large mammals such as rhinos and elephants) which is fatal to humans in veterinary-strength doses. 

My passing fascination with etorphine was mostly due to its potency. Etorphine is a semi-synthetic opioid which laughs at its weak-ass, namby-pamby cousins aspirin, paracetamol and ibuprofen. Etorphine rests smug in the knowledge that it has an analgesic potency one to three thousand times that of morphine. Morphine can kiss etorphine’s ass.

Etorphine is also somewhat sinisterly also known as M99, which makes it sound like MI5’s analgesic of choice (note: never offer Bond paracetamol when etorphine is handy). 

M99’s mystique and allure are only enhanced by its strict regulation as a controlled Class A substance. In addition, instructions for M99’s veterinary use come with the rather thrilling requirement that the human antidote, naloxone, always be prepared prior to the preparation of the etorphine, just in case of ‘accident’ (i.e. an accidental needle stick of M99) because the injected human only has seconds to live without the antidote.

Happily, my flirtation with M99 led to another discovery, about the internet meme “dicks out for Harambe”. A brief search online will confirm that you can buy clothing, mugs and other goodies emblazoned with the slogan ‘Dicks out for Harambe’.

So who is Harambe, and why should one get one’s dick out for him? For those of you don’t remember, Harambe was a 17-year-old silver-back gorilla shot dead at Cincinnati Zoo after a four-year-old child fell into his enclosure. His shooting provoked furious internet debate about whether lethal force was necessary (and whether the child’s life should have been value over that of the gorilla’s). Even veterinarians waded into the internet mud wrestling pit of Harambe debate, some arguing that M99 should have been used rather than ammunition.

So the link between Harambe and M99 is clear, but some readers are probably still wondering where the dicks come into Harambe’s death. The answer? We live in a patriarchal society which means everything is about dicks.

Just kidding.

The answer is that "dicks" is a hiphop phrase used to reference the length of a clip on a gun. If you are "dicks out" it means you have an extended clip. The phrase loosely means "boys, grab your guns and let's go to battle for Harambe”. Why go do battle for Harambe? Because (according to meme jokesters) his death was a conspiracy and/or another unjust shooting.

Plus, the denizens of the internet love a good battle cry, and what better battle cry than “dicks out for Harambe”? However, Cincinnati Zoo was not amused by the endless memes parodying grief and support for Harambe and shut down its social media pages until the silliness went away.

Despite the censure of Cincinnati Zoo, you can still buy a wide range of ‘Dicks out for Harambe’ t-shirts on Redbubble. Go crazy with that credit card, kids.

 

 

Booty & the Beast Facebook Party

It's time to get down with the Booty (that's demon booty-bumps in Hell on Wheels, and book booty to be had) and the Beast (in Elsa Holland's new release). Join us for laughs, inappropriateness and give-aways. Plus, there'll be a whole team of Naughty Ninjas popping in and out to keep you on your toes! 

RSVP here https://www.facebook.com/events/297580827273392/

There’s also an $AU100 Amazon gift card to be won by answering questions such as: 

Which politician would you most like to give a beaver cleaver?Which celebrity, in your opinion, deserves a titty take-out and why?Which actor’s rink rash you'd most like to heal?What would your derby name be?What makes you so angry you could cooter-stomp a Care Bear?Which of the following is not a real romance title? A) Ravished by the Unicorn Sheikh, b) Taken by the Toaster, c) Kiss of the Cabbage?

 

 

The Butt-loads of Romance Books Giveaway

Some of the 30 books up for grabs for first, second and third prize winners.

Dear Amazon, why?

Ever purchased something on Amazon, looked at their recommendations for further purchases and thought “Jeebus, I’ve been stereotyped by Amazon. Those fluckers!”

You are not alone!

Damn you, Amazon, and your shitty reading recommendations.

The Naughty Ninjas are going to share with you the best/worst of our Awful Amazon Recommendations (and why Amazon can stick their recs up their clacker).

Ninja 1

I purchased a bunch of books: Caitlin Moran's entire works in paperback because she's awesome, Lena Dunham's stuff because I want to understand the hype and work out if I'm cool with it all and finally a book called Selfish, Shallow and Self-Absorbed which I am super excited about because it's all essays from women who have chosen not to have kids. I added the latter and then Amazon came up with the following recommendation: Customers who brought this book also brought...

Spinster by Kate Bolick

Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay

And... Feliway. Cat spray to stop cats pissing in your house.

Now either someone at Amazon has a fucking evil sense of humor, an abundance of vindictiveness about broads interested in books on not having kids, or there is some faint truth to the stereotype of the crazy cat lady.

Ninja 2

I like me a book on feminism, something fierce and incisive. Imagine my surprise, however, when I bought Men Explain Things to Me: And Other Essays by Rebecca Solnit (historian, writer and activist) and Amazon suggested that I also grab a copy of Jesus Feminist: An Invitation to Revisit the Bible's View of Women written by a pair of evangelical christians.

Um, no thanks, as an atheist I’d sooner read a book on vajazzling. Perhaps the book I bought called God is Not Great might have tipped you off to that, Amazon?

Then there was the recommendation to buy Why Not Me? by Mindy Kaling. Mindy Kaling (in case, like me, you had no idea who she was) is the creator and star of the ‘critically acclaimed series’ The Mindy Project. That’s right, I should receive Mindy’s words of wisdom about how to live life because she’s a CELEBRITY. Ooooh-aah. And no thanks. I fail to see how a female celebrity equals 'feminist'.

For some reason I should also buy Gratitude by Oliver Sacks (whut?) and So You've Been Publicly Shamed by Ron Johnson. I’m sure the latter is a good book but I’m a bit mystified about what it has in common with a collection of feminist essays (unless it addresses slut shaming at some length).

Ninja 3

I got this one emailed to me today for 'Thriller' but I thought it was a bit funny given it was all about sexual deviance... (should that be sexual deviants??)

Former anti-gang police unit star Loïc Le Goënec has had a chip on his shoulder ever since he was mysteriously kicked off the force. But when detectives uncover a vile ring of sexual deviance with ties to a city official, the commissioner calls his brilliant but rough-edged protégé back into action. With help from an assortment of petty criminals, romantic interests, and colorful misfits, the Anti-Crime Brigade must work outside the department to bring down the corrupt official and the despicable company he keeps. Can Le Goënec play both sides of the law to deliver vigilante justice to an exploited city?

Hmmm, one wonders whether this author is being paid by the Umlaut.

What awful reading recommendations has Amazon made to you?