Title ~ The Queen & the Homo Jock King
Author ~ TJ klune
Publisher ~ Dreamspinner Press
Published ~ 29th February 2016
Genre ~ Contemporary M/M Romance
Sequel to Tell Me It’s Real
Do you believe in love at first sight?
Sanford Stewart sure doesn't. In fact, he pretty much believes in the exact opposite, thanks to the Homo Jock King. It seems Darren Mayne lives for nothing more than to create chaos in Sandy’s perfectly ordered life, just for the hell of it. Sandy despises him, and nothing will ever change his mind.
Or so he tells himself.
It's not until the owner of Jack It—the club where Sandy performs as drag queen Helena Handbasket—comes to him with a desperate proposition that Sandy realizes he might have to put his feelings about Darren aside. Because Jack It will close unless someone can convince Andrew Taylor, the mayor of Tucson, to keep it open.
Someone like Darren, the mayor’s illegitimate son.
The foolproof plan is this: seduce Darren and push him to convince his father to renew Jack It’s contract with the city.
"WARNING! This book will cause excessive snorting, spluttering, belly laughing and explosive LOL'ing. Those of a weak (bladder) disposition may want to stock up on the Tena's before opening book or Kindle and keep a spare pair (or two...possibly three) of scanties close to hand in case of involuntary leakage. As leakage WILL occur...a lot.
Thank you...review to follow!".
Oh my Lordy! This enemies to lovers book made me soooo happy. Only 2% in and I was already wallowing in TJ Klune's situational comedy style genius. Mr Klune is a naturally funny guy and this is one hell of a funny book. No...scratch that. The man is a comedic genius and this book is bloody hilarious; but if sassy humour is your thing, and you've read Tell Me It's Real, or come to that, anything by this talented author, you'll already know this for a fact.
He had me at its flashback prologue, in which a seventeen year old Paul and Sandy attempt to bullshit their way into the local gay club 'Jack It'—disguised as a false moustached leather cub (not a daddy because he's not old enough yet, lol) and his slutty, lollipop sucking, giggling twink sidekick—but fail miserably!
I actually giggled out loud at their pathetic but side splitting attempts to fool a then younger Daddy Charlie (Awww love Daddy Charlie), into letting them into Jack It, to do "gay-bar things" like "drinking and blow jobs". <Sniggers> And snorted out loud at Sandy's epiphanic introduction to the statuesque sarky queen who would much later become his adored drag mother: Vaguyna Muffman! OMG! Best. name. ever!
Funny as fuck, that level of jaw aching hilarity carried on throughout the story as I got further embroiled in the madcap, convoluted world of Sanford 'Sandy' Stewart and his awe inspiring drag persona; the glorious "You may prostrate yourself in the face of my beauty and magnificence" Helena Handbasket! (So modest...hahaha)
I love drag! In fact I have a Pinterest board solely paying homage to RuPauls Drag Race and every awesome queen who ever "Shantay you stayed" or "sashayed away" and I'm convinced if I was ever to have a past life regression they'd find out I was once super fishy queen 'Connie Lingers'; throwing shade with a tongue so sharp it could drop a heckler at fifty paces, lip syncing for my life and saying "Bitch! Please!" like I was born to sass! But...*Sigh*...methinks I'll just have to be content with living vicariously through brilliantly portrayed characters like this...because "Bitch! Please!" Ms Handbasket is one fierce queen! *Finger snap, hair toss, Beyoncé slut drop*
(BTW, that’s Helena, erm, mine’s more…*finger thud, hair loss, Beyoncé slut droop!*
I originally felt the love for these guys in Tell Me it's Real, another example of TJ's wicked sense of snappy humour. Neurotic, self deprecating but lovable Paul and the adorable but oh so dumb jock, Vince; the gorgeous hunk who stole his heart. Ex BDSM doorman "Daddy" Charlie, generally the voice of reason in moments of stress and madness, and the mad as a box of frogs but ever loving family unit including Paul's Mum and dad Matty and Larry and Nana; his dippy, muumuu wearing, inappropriate gran. Three more over the top but lovable personalities who just add more craziness to the pot. And who could forget Johnny Depp, the potty mouthed, obnoxiously homophobic parrot who adores Vince but hates Paul, and sweet Wheels, the disabled, poop machine dog. Lol…Even the pets are two sandwiches short of a picnic!
But of course this is Sandy and Helena's much anticipated love story with the Homo Jock King of the title; Darren Mayne, sexy ass step brother to Vince, and arch nemesis of Sandy and his (you look beautiful, we love you!) alter ego Helena. I absolutely adored the way this 'fake' love-hate relationship played out; with oodles of drawn out, sizzling UST, whip cracking snark, sharp shooting banter and more LOL inducing scenarios than you can shake a stick at.
For me reading The Queen and the Homo Jock King was like tuning in to one of those kooky sit-coms, with a cast of characters whose personalities are magnified to larger than life proportions. And where every wickedly funny escapade is exaggerated to the point of farce; the sniping, witty dialogue and banter coming at you faster than a speeding bullet! There's rambling...lots of rambling...lost the plot digressing, self deprecating internal monologuing, group texting (I snorted tea through my nose) and the sort of misunderstandings that normally would have me pulling my hair out, but in this case are totally in keeping with the "you've been Freddy Prinz Juniored'" fake boyfriend plot.
Underlying all the neurosis, self deprecation and sass though, is a palpable sense of family, fierce friendships and unconditional love that shines out of this cast of crazy peeps. Cutting through the relentless bombardment of funny bone battering humour with the sort of heartfelt emotion this author also portrays brilliantly. Yeah, I practically peed myself laughing all the way through, but there were also deliciously sweet, but never sugary, tender moments that had my eyes watering for a completely different reason.
Despite their over exaggerated personalities, there was a warmth and realness to them that made me fall in love, and genuinely care about every single one of them. Even the supporting characters were vibrant and memorable; sweet gender fluid Cory/Kori and uber sarcastic, evil twink waiter, Santiago (tittering again just thinking about him!) being my particular fave’s. Then TJ topped it all off with a near perfect ending, that was absurdly funny, kind of sappy, weirdly romantic and finally, after keeping us on sexual tension tenterhooks for the majority of the book, pretty damn hot! Leaving this old past life wannabe queen, with a dodgy bladder, a very happy air kissing bunny. So, so good!
Sashaying away now to replenish the Tena's! Hahaha...
Tell Me It’s Real
Do you believe in love at first sight?
Paul Auster doesn't. Paul doesn't believe in much at all. He’s thirty, slightly overweight, and his best features are his acerbic wit and the color commentary he provides as life passes him by. His closest friends are a two-legged dog named Wheels and a quasibipolar drag queen named Helena Handbasket. He works a dead-end job in a soul-sucking cubicle, and if his grandmother's homophobic parrot insults him one more time, Paul is going to wring its stupid neck.
Enter Vince Taylor.
Vince is everything Paul isn’t: sexy, confident, and dumber than the proverbial box of rocks. And for some reason, Vince pursues Paul relentlessly. Vince must be messing with him, because there is no way Vince could want someone like Paul.
But when Paul hits Vince with his car—in a completely unintentional if-he-died-it'd-only-be-manslaughter kind of way—he's forced to see Vince in a whole new light. The only thing stopping Paul from believing in Vince is himself—and that is one obstacle Paul can’t quite seem to overcome. But when tragedy strikes Vince's family, Paul must put aside any notions he has about himself and stand next to the man who thinks he's perfect the way he is.
Connect with TJ Klune
When TJ Klune was eight, he picked up a pen and paper and began to write his first story (which turned out to be his own sweeping epic version of the video game Super Metroid—he didn't think the game ended very well and wanted to offer his own take on it. He never heard back from the video game company, much to his chagrin). Now, two decades later, the cast of characters in his head have only gotten louder, wondering why he has to go to work as a claims examiner for an insurance company during the day when he could just stay home and write.
He lives with a neurotic cat in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. It’s hot there, but he doesn’t mind. He dreams about one day standing at Stonehenge, just so he can say he did.