Friday, July 8, 2016

Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday #16

Blog buddy Sioux is hosting Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday. I have 150 words to entice you to fake-buy my fake book.

It's been a while. So I know you've had an opportunity to fake-save your fake money. Don't be acting all tapped out. All, "Baby needs a new pair of shoes." All, "I just returned from a cruise to the Virgin Islands." All, "But I need a 44 oz Diet Coke and gas station chicken every day, and that leaves very little disposable income for buying your fake book, Val." Nuh uh. Val's not buyin' it! Your attitude, that is. Not her own fake book. But she's not fake-buyin' THAT, either. Why should she fake-buy the fake book, when she lives the tales for free?

This week, Val treats you to a story of HER PEOPLE. Those down-to-earth earthy people. The ones who swing the hammer, the ones who drive the big rig, the ones who cheat you out of your hard-earned 40-hour-week paycheck with rigged games of chance. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, step right up. Get your very own fake copy of Val's latest fake book. It has something for everybody. Have your fake money ready! Fake sales are just starting. Don't let the fake inventory run out!




 Whoopsies, Scamps, and Sleeves

Cletus Crankshaw loves the carnival. From side-show folks to clankety rides to greasy treats to games of skill and chance. Cletus was born in the wagon of a traveling show. His momma used to dance for the money they'd throw. His daddy sold bottles of potent medicine with questionable curative properties. Yes, the carnival is Cletus's life. And now his life is in danger.

An unfortunate series of accidents has whittled away the ranks of Cletus's coworkers. The Fat Lady spontaneously combusted in the last town, the Pick-A-Duck dude drowned in his own kiddie pool at the stop before that, and only last night, the new wiener cleaner at Mustard's Last Stand was found suffocated, with a foot-long jammed down his throat.

Police want to talk to Cletus about his new tattoos. Tattoos that Cletus says commemorate his fallen comrades. Tattoos the authorities think might signify something more sinister. (149 words)

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Fake Reviews for Val’s Fake Book

P.T. Barnum…There's a sucker born every minute, but obviously not a writer born on the date and time that this Thevictorian woman was spawned. 

The Ferris Wheel…I've had my ups and downs, but this author will only bring you down!” 

Tilt-A-Whirl…”Even MY head is spinning from the convoluted plot devices employed by Thevictorian. It takes one to know one, and let me tell YOU, that author is definitely off-kilter!” 

Balloon On a Pegboard…”Val Thevictorian is obviously not the sharpest dart on the midway. Avoid her fake book at all costs. Though quite dull, this author has a way of deflating you.” 

Butterfly Potato Chips…”I would rather be spiral-sliced as thin as tissue paper and immersed in a vat of boiling oil than read Val Thevictorian's fake book again. It took the starch right out of me."

Cotton Candy…”Stay away from Thevictorian's fake book. I, myself, have more substance than this faux tome.”


4 comments:

  1. Okay, I'm full of questions.

    * Where is Cher?
    * Is there really fair fare known as "butterfly potato chips"?
    * How did you come up with the perfect hick name--Cletus?

    Thanks for playing. Your book is soooo much better than mine, because you have so many reviews. I have not a one...

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    1. You are full of many things, so I suppose "questions" might just be one of them.

      Cher is most likely out shaking her exposed booty on the deck of a U.S. Navy battleship again, trying to turn back time.

      Butterfly potato chips? I assume that Google, while estranged from Val Thevictorian, is still your friend, Madam. Thevictorians used to enjoy a heaping plate of butterfly potato chips at the local Labor Day Picnic, then wash it down with a tasty funnel cake. It's a single potato, thinly spiral cut, fried up to make a pile of see-through 'tater chips.

      The perfect hick name was no strain on Val's brain A-tall, her having spent 28 years teaching in the hinterlands.

      Perhaps, Madam, if you were marketing your book to YOUR people (and by that I mean dead-of-night would-be dog-stealers, dog-costume-wearing do-gooders, and bread-eating France-tourists who supply their sons with rental swim trunks that have housed other boys...um...BOYS)...you might get more reviews.

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  2. Okay, I'll give it a go: Val's impressive book is a perfect read while trapped in a doctor's office waiting to be called for your colonoscopy.

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    Replies
    1. Thank you SO much for the kind review! The others were...um...less than stellar.

      Yes, my fake book IS the perfect read for colonoscopy waiting rooms, because IT WILL HELP EVERYTHING COME OUT OKAY!

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