Monday, June 15, 2015

Release Blitz: Countdown to Killing Kurtis by Lauren Rowe

CKK banner blitz Countdown To Killing Kurtis

Lauren Rowe

June 15, 2015



I do love my husband. To death. I love him so much that I've waited a whole year (minus one day) for Killing Kurtis Day to arrive. Tomorrow it will finally be here and I'm giddy with anticipation. Don’t judge me, you don’t know the whole story. I reckon if you were in my shoes, you’d kill your husband, too.

**Readers 18+ due to adult content and situations**

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3.75 Star Review by Jennifer Hagen

“Nobody tells Charlie Wilbur’s daughter what she can and can’t do.”

This is the mantra that Charlene’s father has her repeat time and time again.  Her father is a little on the simple-minded side with grandiose plans never amounting to anything.  His teleportation configuration system is as nonexistent as his elaborate mini golf courses.  He lives for his dreams and that is what he has taught Charlene.  Her mother is drunk all the time, but still manages to be the only bread winner in the family working at a diner.  Her father decides that the big money is to be made out in California, not in Texas where they reside.  Her father leaves them when Charlene is 11 years old.  He left an indelible imprint on Charlene that she is beautiful and nobody can tell her what to do.  Charlene is homeschooled and her life is all about books.  She loves, loves movie stars especially Marilyn Monroe, but has never seen an actual movie.  Charlene thinks her life will play out just like those of the movie stars when they were discovered at a malt shop.  All she has to do it get to California and she will be living in her daddy’s mansion, because that’s where he said he will be.  Charlene didn’t fall too far from the apple tree…she is about as na├»ve and dimwitted as her father. But at least she has her looks going for her and that will make everything in life better, right? 

Well, like I always say, thank God I’m so gosh darned pretty.

Conceited much?  Holy Lawd this girl…she drove me nuts with her ramblings and her metaphor/limerick internal dialogue.  It was funny at first, but after hours of it, I needed to stop the drawl I was imagining a Texas brogue to sound like.  I needed to get back to my straight no-accent Norwegian roots.  I wanted to say Charlene was low on the IQ side and very naive, but I had to remember the way she was brought up. 

Charlene went out to California at the age of 18 for two reasons – 1) to find her father, and 2) to become a famous movie star.  This is how she meets Kurtis.  Kurtis has offered to make his dream movie and place Charlene as the star of the show.  This is her dream come true!  She is going to be famous just as she has always dreamt it would happen.  Oh wait…Kurtis has a hidden agenda…

Kurtis has just laid his cards on the table and he’s calling my bluff.  No movie about Marilyn Monroe’s gonna come out until Kurtis gets in.  Inside me, that is.  If this is a game of chicken, it’s clear which of us is gonna have to swerve first – me.  And I don’t like it one little bit.

Charlene was a very frustrating character to read.  I wanted to think she was a dim light, but she is actually a genius when it came to getting away with murder.  It must be from all the books she read as a child.  Kurtis does something that makes Charlene so mad she could kill him and that’s how her plan comes to fruition.  It is totally justifiable in her eyes.

Well, under the circumstances, I reckon there’s no doubt Kurtis deserves to die.  I think any reasonable person would reach the same conclusion. If I’m gonna fly off the handle and stab Kurtis in our house, then I might as well just forget about the killing part and drive myself right over to the police station and turn myself in.  Because that’s just about how long it’ll take for the police to come arrest me.

She is very intelligent when it comes to what she knows she can and can’t get away with. Her plan is meticulous and well thought out.  She accounts for every detail. Well except for that one small detail…the breath he’s still taking.

Wait just a goddamned minute—Kurtis’ lip just twitched.  This fucker is breathing.  This fucker’s alive! Oh sweet Jesus, this can’t be happening. 

As with anything that doesn’t work for Charlene she just moves into plan B mode..and plan C…and however many plans it takes for her to succeed.  And succeed she does…at the end she’s a famous movie star just as her husband promised her from the beginning.  Whether or not he’s there to bask in her glory you will have to read to find out.

I’m a little scared at the author’s meticulously plotted storyline…she left no stone unturned and all her bases covered.  She knew precisely what she was talking about and how to get away with murder.  This story is very clever and unique, and I can certainly understand how others will see it as a 5-star read, but for me it just wasn’t my cup of tea.   It is humorous, but I found it to be slow moving during the first half and by the time it was moving at a quicker pace it had lost my interest.   The writing is excellent, but yet for myself I just couldn’t find myself connecting with anybody or any part of the story.  
CKK cover front




Chapter 1
Hollywood, California, 1992
20 Years Old
1 Day Before Killing Kurtis
My head bangs against the wall as Kurtis has his way with me, groaning and grunting all the while. I can sense he’s reaching his limit and can’t hold out much longer.
“Baby,” he moans, his voice straining.
I turn my face into his ear and exhale sharply, making sure my breathing seems ragged and desperate, as if, despite my best efforts at maintaining my composure, I just can’t control myself. Of course, my dear husband, only you bring out the wide-eyed little girl in me, the girl who believes in happily ever afters and soul mates. I roll my eyes, even as my skull bangs against the wall with a loud thud.
The vast majority of the time, something as simple as panting in Kurtis’ ear does the trick and sends him over the edge. But not this time.
Bang, bang, bang. My head continues its assault on the wall of our hotel room.
“Oh, Kurtis,” I blurt loudly, taking great care to infuse my voice with breathless excitement. And then, because Kurtis absolutely loves it when I talk Texas, I bring my lips right to his ear, blow out a puff of warm air, and whisper, in my most exaggerated twang, “Goodness gracious, sugar.”
That ought to do the trick.
I wait.
He’s moaning and grunting like a hog in slop, but undeniably hanging on. Well, hells bells. Looks like I’m gonna have to work a little harder than usual to lead my blind pig of a husband to an acorn tonight. I make a noise like my insides are being split in two by pleasure so intense, it hurts—and then, just because I like wearing belts and suspenders, I bite his earlobe, too. Hard.
Yep, that does it. Hallelujah. Kurtis lets out a mangled cry of release and relief, and I respond with my trademark I’m-just-so-in-love-with-you sigh. Just for the heck of it, since this is my final performance, after all, and I’m a big believer in “leaving it all out there,” I follow all of it up with a little shimmy—something I’ve only recently learned I’m supposed to do at times such as this—and then I arch my back with apparent pleasure like I’m finally, deliciously scratching a hard-to-reach itch.
I smirk. I should have been an actress. Oh wait—I am an actress. And a damn good one, too—destined to be seen by audiences in cineplexes all over the world.
Kurtis becomes still. His body goes slack. Beads of sweat cover his brow, his chest, his cheeks. If I didn’t hate my husband so much, I might actually think he’s handsome—quite handsome, indeed.
I smile dreamily at my dear husband, thinking about tomorrow—when he’ll finally be dead.
“You’re amazing, baby,” Kurtis says, grinning like a possum with a sweet potato.
“Oh, Kurtis,” I squeal. In a sudden and unexpected fit of genuine glee, I throw my head back and laugh with abandon. Tomorrow is finally Killing Kurtis Day, and I’m bursting at the seams about it.
Kurtis kisses my nose. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too, Kurtis,” I reply. And it’s true. I do love Kurtis—that is, if you define love as that hard-to-pin-down sensation of anticipation and longing you get as you count down the days, then hours, and then minutes until your loved one is cold and dead as he so richly deserves to be. What a thrill—a turn-on, even, if I’m being honest—to be so very close now, so very, very close, after waiting a tortuous year minus one day for his well-deserved fate to come. Being on the eve of his one-way departure from planet earth, I feel somewhat hot and bothered, actually. Hey now, being so close to Happy Killing Kurtis Day is getting me hotter than a stolen tamale. I suddenly and enthusiastically kiss my husband’s mouth, and he plunges his tongue into mine in reply.
“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, his brawny body instantly responding to my surprising invitation. “Again?”
“Again,” I mutter.
Might as well send the fucker off with a smile on his stupid, lying face.
CKK teaser


About Lauren Rowe

Lauren Rowe is the pen name of an author who lives in San Diego, CA with her family--and who typically writes in other genres. Due to the explicit sexuality, language and dark themes of THE CLUB TRILOGY, the author felt it best to use a pen name to avoid confusion with her other body of work.


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