Stud – Brigit Zahara (eXtasy Books)

Buy it now direct from the eXtasy Books.

In over thirty years of reviewing for many print and online
outlets, I’ve run across some amazing finds—incredible, perspicacious writers
who use heartbreakingly real characters and sharp, telling prose to push
boundaries. Brigit Zahara’s Stud is not one of these books. It isn’t
even close.

The plot? Vampire Kyan falls in love with Victim/Hooker
Sasha (could the names get any gayer?) and seduces him, saving Sasha
from an encounter with a Rough Trade Trick who ends up kidnapping said Victim
anyway, despite the efforts of Victim’s best friend, a Sassy Black Flamboyant
Flamer named Dallas. Kyan rescues Sasha from RTT, seduces him yet again,
pledges eternal love and whisks him away for the happy aerial ending. We never
see Dallas again. All in under 75 pages.

To say this is slight is an understatement. The characters
are caricatures—no depth, no style and no substance. They do, however, have
beautifully chiseled abs, which is apparently enough in today’s market. What
about Sasha causes Kyan to fall madly in love? Um, I dunno. What in
Kyan’s vampiric past attracts him to male prostitutes? Ah, beats me. How
can a pasty-faced, doughy human nebbish like Tanner (the Rough Trade
Trick) pose much of a problem for a toned, muscular vampire with supernatural
powers? Your guess is as good as mine.

And the Sassy Black Flamboyant Flamer? I believe there to be
a special place in Hell for authors and film directors who perpetuate this
egregious, more than faintly racist Stepin Fetchit stereotype for comic relief.
It’s an amateurish device in the best of hands, but here it’s simply inept. You
don’t believe me? Let’s take a look at this witty banter:

                             Dallas playfully slapped at Sasha’s arm.
“Ooooooh, you

thing! Listen, honey, I don’t care who sticks it in

let’s just get busy!”

                             Sasha chuckled, his full lips parting to
reveal flawless,

teeth. “Ah, Dallas, you kill me.” 

                             Dallas sidled up closer and slung a skinny
arm around

shoulders. “Mmm-hmm, mmm-hmm, that’s what

talking about. I want to kill you baby, kill you with

and that big ol’ cock of yours.”

If you aren’t cringing by now, you should be. And for those
who might argue that I’m taking a few lines out of context to prove a point,
you’re partially right. However, at less than 75 pages, there’s precious little
context in which to put it. I just wish I could get back the afternoon I spent
reading this.

Is there an app for that? 

Reviewed by Jerry Wheeler

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