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Welcome to the Blak Rayne Blog, where I post articles, author interviews, book and movie reviews, as well as anything else that sparks my interest!


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Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Fracking 101 A Beginner's Guide #bookreview #Eric George #oil #environment



Welcome to BRB, everyone! I know I don't read and review "text" books, but I was asked, and I'm glad I did. Fracking has become a highly controversial subject, especially in the last decade. Here in Canada, in particular, the Alberta tar sands, have come under environmental scrutiny, and public protest. So I thought maybe a little knowledge wouldn't hurt, so when someone does bring up the topic, I can add something intelligent to the debate.

Fracking 101 A Beginner's Guide to Hydraulic Fracturing
By Eric George

After I had read Fracking 101 A Beginners Guide to Hydraulic Fracturing, I felt I’d “upped” my knowledge on the topic. I’m not an expert on the subject, but now I certainly have a better understanding of what the word means and the process behind it. The author Eric George did an excellent job in breaking down each part of fracking, including the risks and benefits without taking a political stance. I’m not an advocate for the oil or natural gas industry, actually anything that can be detrimental to the earth, but at the same time, I do realize we (the human race) need the energy to continue living the way we’ve become accustomed. Tapping from years of experience, the author made it clear that such methods of oil extraction can be done in a safe and effective manner—everything from how to start the process to how to shut it down. Very interesting read.

I know this review is quite short, but honestly, I didn't know what else to say. The book was informative and well-written, and if you are interested in learning more about this part of the oil and natural gas industry then I suggest you read it. Aside from the technical aspect, the author's thought-provoking perspective and humour made it an enjoyable read.

Blak Rayne

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Kiss the Reaper - New Release #promotion #gay #dark #romance


New Release currently available at Smashwords and soon Amazon and Xin Xii.

Tags: Gay, Gayromlit, Romance, MMromance, Drama, Dark, Twisted, Killers, Assassins, Murder, Orphan, Prostitution, Futuristic, City Setting, Sex, Adult Fiction, and Must Read.

Purchase Links:

Kiss the Reaper
By Blak Rayne

‘Wherever depravity knocks, he will answer. Whenever Z knocks, he will kill.’

For Z, prostitution is a way of life, but it’s also become his prison. Desperate to forget his ugly existence, even if it’s only once a week, he confides in a john—a mysterious but kind man named Brody. Every Friday night they talk until the early morning hours. Brody is altruistic, giving him the attention he craves and, in time, they cultivate a unique bond.
For Brody, he’s found something special in Z—an innate charm and pure view of the world—qualities he can appreciate. He’s grown fond of Z and comfortable with their routine, but he knows it will soon come to an end.
Fueled by curiosity, Z follows Brody through the city to a dance club. He wants to learn all he can about his unusual client. However, he discovers more than he bargained for—a dark unsettling secret is hidden in a back room, a secret he can never share.

Excerpt:
The elevator slid shut at the far end of the hallway and I caught a glimpse of Brody inside. I raced past it and down three levels of a concrete stairwell to catch him. Once on the street, he walked like he had a purpose, cutting straight through anyone in his path. I followed him for several blocks, where he entered an abandoned warehouse in an industrial park. I kept close to the walls and shadows, careful not to disturb anything.
On the fifth floor, in what had once been a spacious office, sat the basics in furniture—a liquor cabinet and kitchenette, bathroom, and a bed—it wasn’t how I expected him to live. A meticulous man, he seemed the type who would rent a West End condo.
Brody began to remove his clothes, and I ducked behind a rusted filing cabinet. He wasn’t huge or burly, but lean, an unbreakable man, and I felt an even stronger attraction to him. In certain respects we were one in the same—a pair of freakish oddballs—mutually needy. I wanted his attention and it seemed he wanted my approval. But what about love? And what about sex?
His cock was long and lean like him, his nakedness beautiful. My stomach fluttered and I bottled my breath, quickly looking away to stay calm. He deserved privacy and my respect. But my thoughts were far from respectful.
Water ran, and I waited, rubbing nervously at my sweaty upper lip. The bathroom door opened, and Brody emerged in a cloud of steam, waist wrapped in a towel. In minutes, he was dressed and adjusting his tie in front of the large window. Then he slid the holsters over his shoulders, buckled the chest strap, and put on his blazer.
Once again, he was on the move, myself in pursuit. But somehow within a block of the warehouse, his trail had gone cold.
“Shit,” I gasped, my breath misting in the air. Light from a neon sign nearby glistened on the damp pavement. No other business in the immediate area was open. I had a hunch and pulled on the blackened entrance door.
Loud music hit like a brick, rattling my chest. People drank, danced and made out—the club was a den of wickedness. And I soon became disoriented in the chaos, temporarily absorbed like water into a sponge by the hypnotic pulse of lights. I shoved against the suffocating mass of bodies and scanned the sea of bobbing heads. At the rear of the club, I noticed a hallway emitting a red glow and, for some inexplicable reason, I felt drawn to it and moved in that direction.
When I reached it, a man brushed past, bumping my arm. The unnatural light obscured his head and shoulders. I paused and glanced back, but he’d vanished. Our interaction was so brief, only his stature had registered. There were three doors to my left and the middle one stood partly open. I gave it a cautious push and it crept inwards. The red glow from the corridor gradually spread across the floor.
I gagged.
In the center of the room was a dead man, seated on a chair in front of a boarded window, his mouth gaping, a quarter-sized hole in his forehead. He stared with vacant eyes, those deprived of a soul. Blood trickled past the bridge of his nose and had spattered the plywood in the window, like someone had flicked paint from his or her fingertips.
For the first few seconds, I was too traumatized to be scared, but had enough sense to get out of there. Murder was still illegal. Turning on my heels, I blew from the room, heart hammering. I tried to act normal, but failed, wading at an urgent pace across the dance floor, propelling people out of my way. A yard ahead was the silhouette of a tall figure, a man engulfed in the epileptic beat of strobe lights. I don’t know why, but the back of his head and shoulders, and his sturdy purposeful gait seemed all too familiar. He had to be the man who’d passed me minutes before.
He exited the building and I did the same, dashing outside into the drizzly night. Gulping at the cold air, I looked in every direction. The street was desolate, not a human in sight—the man had, yet again, vanished into thin air. I turned east for home, an alley sandwiched between the club and neighboring building, and someone materialized from the shadows.
“W-who are you?” I demanded, limbs shaking.
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Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Upcoming Release! Kiss the Reaper - #mustread #killer #sex #gayromlit

Welcome to BRB, everyone! My upcoming release Kiss the Reaper, a dark and twisted romance between a prostitute and his mysterious client, will be available April 30-16, and is the first book in a series of four short stories.


Kiss the Reaper
By Blak Rayne

‘Wherever depravity knocks, he will answer. Whenever Z knocks, he will kill.’

For Z, prostitution is a way of life, but it’s also become his prison. Desperate to forget his ugly existence, even if it’s only once a week, he confides in a john—a mysterious but kind man named Brody. Every Friday night they talk until the early morning hours. Brody is altruistic, giving him the attention he craves and, in time, they cultivate a unique bond.
For Brody, he’s found something special in Z—an innate charm and pure view of the world—qualities he can appreciate. He’s grown fond of Z and comfortable with their routine, but he knows it will soon come to an end.
Fueled by curiosity, Z follows Brody through the city to a dance club. He wants to learn all he can about his unusual client. However, he discovers more than he bargained for—a dark unsettling secret is hidden in a back room, a secret he can never share.


Excerpt:
The elevator slid shut at the far end of the hallway and I caught a glimpse of Brody inside. I raced past it and down three levels of a concrete stairwell to catch him. Once on the street, he walked like he had a purpose, cutting straight through anyone in his path. I followed him for several blocks, where he entered an abandoned warehouse in an industrial park. I kept close to the walls and shadows, careful not to disturb anything.
On the fifth floor, in what had once been a spacious office, sat the basics in furniture—a liquor cabinet and kitchenette, bathroom, and a bed—it wasn’t how I expected him to live. A meticulous man, he seemed the type who would rent a West End condo.
Brody began to remove his clothes, and I ducked behind a rusted filing cabinet. He wasn’t huge or burly, but lean, an unbreakable man, and I felt an even stronger attraction to him. In certain respects we were one in the same—a pair of freakish oddballs—mutually needy. I wanted his attention and it seemed he wanted my approval. But what about love? And what about sex?
His cock was long and lean like him, his nakedness beautiful. My stomach fluttered and I bottled my breath, quickly looking away to stay calm. He deserved privacy and my respect. But my thoughts were far from respectful.
Water ran, and I waited, rubbing nervously at my sweaty upper lip. The bathroom door opened, and Brody emerged in a cloud of steam, waist wrapped in a towel. In minutes, he was dressed and adjusting his tie in front of the large window. Then he slid the holsters over his shoulders, buckled the chest strap, and put on his blazer.
Once again, he was on the move, myself in pursuit. But somehow within a block of the warehouse, his trail had gone cold.
“Shit,” I gasped, my breath misting in the air. Light from a neon sign nearby glistened on the damp pavement. No other business in the immediate area was open. I had a hunch and pulled on the blackened entrance door.
Loud music hit like a brick, rattling my chest. People drank, danced and made out—the club was a den of wickedness. And I soon became disoriented in the chaos, temporarily absorbed like water into a sponge by the hypnotic pulse of lights. I shoved against the suffocating mass of bodies and scanned the sea of bobbing heads. At the rear of the club, I noticed a hallway emitting a red glow and, for some inexplicable reason, I felt drawn to it and moved in that direction.
When I reached it, a man brushed past, bumping my arm. The unnatural light obscured his head and shoulders. I paused and glanced back, but he’d vanished. Our interaction was so brief, only his stature had registered. There were three doors to my left and the middle one stood partly open. I gave it a cautious push and it crept inwards. The red glow from the corridor gradually spread across the floor.
I gagged.
In the center of the room was a dead man, seated on a chair in front of a boarded window, his mouth gaping, a quarter-sized hole in his forehead. He stared with vacant eyes, those deprived of a soul. Blood trickled past the bridge of his nose and had spattered the plywood in the window, like someone had flicked paint from his or her fingertips.
For the first few seconds, I was too traumatized to be scared, but had enough sense to get out of there. Murder was still illegal. Turning on my heels, I blew from the room, heart hammering. I tried to act normal, but failed, wading at an urgent pace across the dance floor, propelling people out of my way. A yard ahead was the silhouette of a tall figure, a man engulfed in the epileptic beat of strobe lights. I don’t know why, but the back of his head and shoulders, and his sturdy purposeful gait seemed all too familiar. He had to be the man who’d passed me minutes before.
He exited the building and I did the same, dashing outside into the drizzly night. Gulping at the cold air, I looked in every direction. The street was desolate, not a human in sight—the man had, yet again, vanished into thin air. I turned east for home, an alley sandwiched between the club and neighboring building, and someone materialized from the shadows.

“W-who are you?” I demanded, limbs shaking.

Tags: Dark, Gayromlit, Gay, Must Read, Futuristic, City Setting, Prostitution, Sex, Adult Fiction, Romance, GBLTQ, Short Story, Killers, Sex Trade, Johns, Pimps, Gangs.
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Tuesday, April 19, 2016

A Walk on the Wild Side - Jacqueline George #article #erotic #romance #adult

Sometimes when I am reading books set fifty years ago or more, I have to stop and wonder about sex. How did they manage? Rock music and The Pill – what a revolution they caused. We can do all sorts of things now that used to be illegal, or at least highly unlikely.
Really – we’re so much freer. In most places you can now admit to enjoying oral sex without getting pilloried or thrown into prison. (There are a few places where the fundamentalists of various religions still make life difficult, but they shouldn’t understand what we are talking about. I mean, where did they learn about it?)
Just about anything goes nowadays, and we can be curious about anything. Like gay sex, for instance. We can manage gay romance. We all want romance in our lives, and how different can the gay version be? Gay sex, well, we don’t know but that’s not going to stop us being curious. Not that we want to join in, you understand, but a little peep behind the curtain – who wouldn’t be fascinated?
What goes on behind that curtain? I’m certainly not going to ask my gay friends. I know about the mechanics (I think). This bit goes in there, rubbing that bit in just the right way gives spectacular results, but what about the atmosphere? All the men I know are barely concealed sex maniacs, so what happens when you get two of them together? I’m surprised they find time to eat dinner.
There is just so much to explore…

One Evening in Bangkok
This was Bangkok, and there was food around every corner. They stepped out onto the street through the friendly crowd of girls and katoeys hoping for a rich foreign lover.
“Busy place,” said Gina.
“Well, yes, but why not? It’s all in good fun.”
Gina thought about that. “Would you ever pick up a girl from the street? Or whatever?”
Greg smiled at her clumsiness. “Possibly whatever. And no, I don’t think I would. Not when there are so many places where you can do it more officially. This place do you?” They were standing outside a brightly-lit restaurant called Seven Seas. It looked clean and did not have lines of beer-drinking foreigners sitting at the bar.
They sat down and scanned the menu. Already a girl appeared with two beers, and returned to bring small saucers of sliced bird’s eye chillies in clear vinegar.
Gina raised her glass to Greg. “Here’s to a good meal.  Thanks for rescuing me, Greg. I don’t think I would have been brave enough to come by myself.”
They had already started their second beer when the food arrived, green soup with prawns, spiced in the way that only Thailand can manage. Gina ate gratefully. It had been a long time since lunch.
“So, where are you heading now, Greg. Out clubbing?”
Greg avoided her eyes. “Ah well - if you can’t go clubbing in Bangkok...”
“Must be a bit of an adventure, I imagine.”
“Yes and no. It’s all perfectly safe here. They even have special police just to take care of tourists. On the other hand, you’ve never seen clubs like the ones here. Really hot, and relaxed at the same time. Suits me.”
“Um - gay clubs?”
“All sorts. Straight, gay, katoey, whatever you fancy.”
“Katoey?”
“Transsexual. You know, shemale. Women with dicks.”
“Really? Clubs for them too?”
“Well, clubs full of them. The customers are male. Mostly male, anyway.”
This was a world Gina had not even imagined. She played with the word. “Katoey. Sounds strange, but I guess they’re strange too.”
“Not so strange. Just girls with a bit extra, that’s all. And they have a male sex-drive too. That makes them more interesting, I suppose.”
“Have you ever..?” She did not know how to finish her question politely.
“No. I never did. There never seems to be time. And besides...”
Gina did not want to intrude, but she could not stop herself. “I suppose if you want male, you want male. What are the gay clubs like?”
“Hot, mostly. Super hot, compared to home, but then - everywhere is hot compared to Adelaide. Some of the shows are good. Really good, and the guys are, well, they turn me on, anyway.” He sipped his drink thoughtfully.
Gina thought about the evening ahead, and her plan of spending it back at the hotel with her Kindle. “And that’s where you are going tonight?”
Greg seemed to reach a decision. “Um - yes. Want to tag along?”
The taxi dropped them on a main street and Greg took the lead. They walked to the entry of a narrow, crowded street. “This is Soi Twilight. The gayest strip in town. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. As long as it’s fun.” It was a packed neon canyon, a narrow lane with glitzy bars on each side and souvenir stalls filling most of the free space. The music drowned all thought and the bar signs were dazzling. Dream Boys, Maxis, Fresh Boys, Boys Bangkok, all impossibly bright.
Greg handed her in front of him. “Let’s just check it out. I’ll watch your back, but hang on to your bag.”
Gina pushed slowly forward, taking in the bustle around her. The bars spread onto the pavement. Western men sat watching the world go by, and handsome Thai men brought them drinks. In front of each bar, a barker tried to tempt them in.
Gina saw no girl bars. Male sex ruled. There were some Thai women on the street, some passing through and some in small giggling groups seeing the sights. Western women too, all hanging onto a man and looking uncomfortable. Gina decided she would not touch Greg or hide behind him.
They walked the length of the street and turned back. Greg said, “Let’s go in here. It’s friendly, and the show’s good.” He steered her through the chairs and tables beside the street and into one of the bars.
The room was larger than she had expected, and dark. Lights bathed a busy bar area to one side, and the loud techno music seemed to come from there. Tables and chairs filled the rest of the room, about half of them occupied by Westerners and Thais. Attractive young men served the tables, all dressed in singlets and low-cut, tight jeans.
Some-one was talking to Greg. An older Thai, slim and with a face ravaged by pock-marks. “Hello, Mr Greg. You come again - very happy. Who is your friend?”
“Mr Sam, meet Gina.”
His hand felt small in hers. “Hello, Miss Gina.  You Australia also? Your Mr Greg, he old friend here. Where you like sit? Here, you sit. I send two boys.”
Greg glanced at Gina and said, “Not two. One is enough. Is Palat here tonight?”
Mr Sam chuckled. “Oh you like Palat too much. He tell me. No, Palat, he go outside. I have new boy you like. Teera. Chiangmai boy, very nice, very fresh. I send him. What you like drink? Whisky? Singha?”
He looked at Gina and said, “I should stick to the beer if I were you. I wouldn’t trust mixed drinks and I especially wouldn’t trust the water.” She nodded and he turned back to Mr Sam.
Greg gave him something, and Gina caught a glimpse of folded money as the man pocketed it. “Ok. You buy him a drink, and send him over with two Singhas. Then we’ll see.” He led Gina to a table near the entrance where they could sit with their backs against the wall.
“Well?” he asked, “What do you think of this den of iniquity?”


Buy A Walk on the Wild Side for Kindle, Nook & Kobo etc

Jacqueline lives in Far North Queensland, on the shore of the Coral Sea. She keeps herself busy with her cats and garden, and by writing books - some of which are far too naughty for her own good. You can find out more about Jacqueline and her books at www.jacquelinegeorgewriter.com

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