Title: A Muddy Red River
Author: D. A. Cairns
ISBN: 978-1-62420-162-2
Email: devolution_dacairns@hotmail.com
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Excerpt Heat Level: 4
Book Heat Level: 1
TAGLINE
Two brothers, so unlike and so disconnected, live
separate lives until fate forces them to face one another and resolve their
differences.
BLURB
Shane Archer is solid, dependable and reliable while his
younger brother, Rob, is reckless, selfish and unpredictable. Never close
during their formative years, and further divided by distance in adulthood,
they live disconnected lives until the corkscrew of life pits them on a collision
course. They love, they laugh, they lose and with broken hearts and messed up
lives they find strength in the women they love and in their family. Could each
be the agent of salvation for the other, or will they be torn apart forever? A
Muddy Red River traces the course of the lives of broken people who discover
power to overcome adversity.
REVIEW:
A Muddy Red River
D. A. Cairns
978-1-62420-162-2
Reviewed by Jocko Lee
4 Stars out of 5
The Muddy Red River follows a short time period of two
Australian brothers as they blunder their way through life. One brother, at
home in Australia, is having to deal with his love for his wife and his
attraction to other women. The other brother, on vacation in Thailand, mostly
loves himself but finds himself attracted to a bar girl.
They both deal with death and escape, one from the law and
the other from his guilt. How they cope with their circumstances brings them
back closer together.
All through the book I found myself in a hurry to get to the
next chapter. At first I was more involved in the conflict between Rob and Jam
than the other brother. Cairn’s practice of alternating chapters between
brothers left me, at times, feeling like I was watching a captivating movie and
it went to a commercial break. I rushed through the chapters dealing with Shane
and Angela just to get back to see what Rob and Jam were up to.
Later in the book Shane’s situation became as compelling as
Rob’s and I was hurrying to read the exploits of both. This book has made me
want to read more of this writers work.
EXCERPT
The stage was dark, except for a voyeuristic
single spotlight which shone on a nubile dancer. Dressed in nought but satin
hot pants and a pink bikini top, she mouthed the words to Blurred Lines as she
writhed awkwardly around the microphone stand. Australian holiday maker and
hedonist, Rob Archer, took a seat at a small table next to the wall to the left
of the stage and gratefully accepted a glass of beer without looking at the
waitress. The dancer began to sway gently, apparently abandoning sexy for a
vague semblance of cute. Rob compelled his mouth closed and disengaged his eyes
in order to survey the room. The temptation to remain riveted to the lame, yet
somehow sensual performance of the dancer was mercifully curtailed by the end
of the song. He joined the polite applause which mumbled half-hearted
appreciation.
To the right of the stage was a circular bar,
with a small dais in the centre that was slightly elevated above the level of
the bar top. Another two girls were dancing there, similarly dressed in the
sleazy attire of good time girls. There were no hot pants for these two though;
sparkling G-strings and stilettos adorned their lower halves. An assortment of
desperates, mostly foreigners, watched enthusiastically, clapping and cheering
whenever either of the girls bent over or thrusted her pelvis. Some simply sat
and leered as they nursed drinks and lustful thoughts. These girls seemed more
comfortable with the attention, smiling frequently and blowing kisses all over
the enchanted men.
Hostesses, or perhaps girlfriends, who could
say, decorated the arms and laps of some of the spectators. Rob noticed two
groups; one evidently enjoying themselves, the other patently not. He guessed
the former were hostesses and the latter, girlfriends. The hostesses maintained
intimate and frequent contact with their men. They laughed and smiled,
occasionally leaning close to whisper in their partner's ears or to stain their
cheeks with lipstick. The girlfriends on the other hand, wore vacant,
disinterested looks, wishing they could disappear inside the smoke haze and
escape this appalling personal insult.
Rob pulled a cigarette from the packet of Klong Thips which lay on the table but
before he could light it, a flame appeared, accompanied by a sweet voice.
"You like something else, sir?"
The smoke from the full strength Thai tobacco
seared his throat as he inhaled it, igniting the slow burn of the coffin nail.
He opened his eyes to find a pair of almond orbs solicitously violating him. He
accepted the intrusion.
"Whiskey, please."
"Just whiskey?"
Rob returned her smile then nodded.
"Mekong, okay?"
He nodded again. The waitress winked before
walking away and his eyes followed her shapely backside through the dimness, as
she headed for the bar. Lipstick was one of the quieter bars in the Nana red
light district of Bangkok. Rob had been introduced to the erotic wonders of
this part of town by an acquaintance with whom he had shared a few drinks and
joints in a number of other sex bars which populated soi one and soi two on
Thailand's world famous Patpong Road. Nana, he said, was way better. Lipstick
had a reputation for offering friendly staff, reasonable prices and a wide
selection of beautiful ladies, minus the so called lady-boys. So far Rob had
found it thus, and he settled into the ambience as the music oozed from every
hidden corner of the brooding premises.
The waitress returned, leaning across him and
feathering his shoulder with her breasts. "Your drink, sir."
She lingered as he sipped the whiskey, savouring
its bite. Her fingers caressed the back of his head, playfully tousling his
hair. "Anything else, sir?"
Rob smiled as desire swelled and he surrendered
willingly, inviting her to sit with him.
"Just drinks sir. You want friend? I send
friend for you."
What a tease! He wrestled his anger into submission and
dismissed the waitress with a wave of his hand. She smiled, evidently
unoffended, and glided away.
Rob liked being called sir, and he loved the
attention. The zing of lust which the waitress's delicate touch had elicited
was stunning. Perhaps the atmosphere was pregnant with raunchiness and ribaldry.
Perhaps he was desperate and lonely. Whatever the reason for his reaction, Rob
felt cheated and frustrated by the waitress. Though he knew the game well, and
happily participated whenever given the chance, it could still be incredibly
annoying.
He took some more whiskey, appreciating its
strength, knowing that subsequent servings would be watered down. The main
stage was deserted now, the peephole spotlight swallowed by darkness. Rob
turned his attention to the crowd at the bar, which dwindled as the dancing
girls finished their routines and stepped down into the arms of the two men who
had stuffed their respective bikini tops with the highest amount of five
hundred baht notes. He had no idea how they kept track of their earnings when
their bodies were engaged in such bawdy acrobatics, another impressive trick of
their trade.
One Klong
Thip chased another, in pursuit of a succession of whiskeys, as Rob sat and
watched the next performance, then another. He pressed the side of his watch, raising it closer to eye
level as he struggled to read the time. Then he called a waitress over.
"I'd like a friend, please."
"No poplem, sir. You like table friend,
short time or long time?"
"What's a table friend?"
The waitress laughed and playfully slapped his
arm. "First time you come, huh?"
Inebriation thankfully overrode irritation and
embarrassment. "Yeah, first time here."
She moved suddenly, snatching a chair and
placing it beside Rob's. With her backside perched on the edge of the chair,
she pushed her face close to his. Much to his chagrin, Rob flinched, which made
the waitress laugh again; such a cute titter. "I no bite you, silly
man."
"Of course not," said Rob, as he
closed the distance between them once more. "You surprised me, that's all.
I thought you weren't going to sit with me."
Her finger was on his lips before he could utter
another syllable. "You want to hear about table friend or you want blah,
blah, blah?" Her free hand mimicked a sock puppet.
Rob listened attentively.
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