Book Reviews now accepted through The Book Escape E-zine. Please contact Jennifer at: thebookescapemag@gmail.com with your blurb, release date, author name, and publisher. Thank you!

Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Love, Sexpunk and Alien Orifices, by Made in DNA




I've had a passion for science fiction from a very young age. Rocket ships, androids and mysterious, distant planets have always excited me, but it wasn't until I discovered the cyberpunk genre that I really found my niche. Cyberpunk was wild, sexy and unexplored. It seemed as if the aliens I had sought to read about in my childhood were actually hidden within these wired men and women with their Nagel stares, blue mohawks, illegal cyberdecks, smart hovertanks.

When I started writing short fiction, I wondered what I could bring to the post-cyberpunk work that was currently on the shelves. It seemed there were some very smart people in the genre -- Cory Doctorow and Charles Stross to name just two. Just copying someone else's formula wasn't my style, so I threw away everything I knew and experimented. In that spirit, I labeled the work I was doing as 'throw-away'. In other words, if it didn't work out for either myself or the readers, I could just dump it.

Allowing myself to be heavily influenced by Japanese (and by extension, Asian) cyberpunk, anime, monster flicks, horror, transgenderism and transhumanism, I slapped together a bizarre world of pulp anti-protagonists and crazed situations. I didn't worry about whether situations were realistic; I just let the work flow.

My first short story was entitled "Media Whores" and it was a hit with Twitter readers (where it was first published). It was soaked in sex, sass, and cybernetic beings. Annalee Newitz used my Twitter feed as an example of fiction in a university class, and Internet curmudgeon and comic author Warren Ellis mentioned me on his blog. I then wrote "de Sade Assassins" a short story in a short anthology of assassin-themed eBook. Along with my novella Bukkake Brawl (http://amzn.to/madeindna), it is by far, one of my bestselling works on Amazon.

Now I stand poised to publish my own tri-annual eMagazine of science fiction and hardcore sex -- Full-Metal Orgasm (http://sexpunk.tumblr.com). The first issue (due out April 1, 2012), and I'm working on the second issue. It's a work I am proud of because it embraces, sex -- everything from anal-loving to tentacle-savagery, drugs, love, war, violence, sexuality, humanity, consciousness, and beyond. In other words, it's a wild romp across space and time with plenty of shared body fluids.

I hope you'll take the time to check out Full-Metal Orgasm's IndieGOGO campaign page (http://indiegogo.com/FMOemag) as I am working hard to raise funds for it. There's a detailed explanation of my plans for the eMagazine and how you can help me get it off the ground. To anyone reading this blog who 'pre-purchases' issue one (by making a $5.00 contribution), I'll give away the second issue free. After you have contributed, send a private comment through IndieGOGO (click my name to get my profile and a link to message) with the word "sexpunk".

Thank you for you time. And thank you, Jennifer, for being so kind as to let me post.

Bukkake Brawl (Explicit excerpt)
©2010, Made in DNA
Bukkake Brawl was the fiendishly genius marriage of extreme sports and porn. Rough, muff, and tumble.

Three scantily clad women, the Jizzabels, stepped into a pit and took all-cumers.

Their opponents were Jackals—a mob of howling contestants ready to hump anything that moved. Including the occasional stray cambot.

It attracted college kids, weirdoes, macho assholes, perverts, cherry boys, misogynists and mishmash thereof. No license required.

40 billion perved globally!

Jackals ponyed up 25000 Fuk Buks each for a chance in the pit. An entry fee that didn’t actually guarantee anything.

For their chance at pussy, they had to survive the Prelims where hopefuls eliminated two-thirds of their own number.

Losers were consoled with a membership in the Circle Jerks, the group of men who did just that if the Jizzabels fell in the Homban.

No touchy-touchy fuckee-fuckee, they just pulled their dinkie twinkies until they blew wad over the subservient hostess ho-hos.

Thus the Prelims were a fierce street brawl for pussy. But it paled in compared to Homban, The Real Deal.

While the Prelims resulted in the weak being hurled from the ring like sad sacks of pig shit, Homban was blood, sweat, tears and semen.

Gallons of semen.

Homban was where it all potentially paid off for the Jackals. If the Jizzabels lost, every man still standing in the pit got their yearn.

The Jizzabels were submitted to every moan, groan, grunt and white explosion of hair-gobbing, mouth-filling, pussy-drenching spoo.

Name of the game baby. There is no maybe.

Televised globally, Bukkake Brawl was where women became adored idols, and cherry boys became men!

Lights. Action. Hover-botcams. Spectators. Screaming fists. And more fluids than any girl ever wanted to swallow.

Re-orientating herself, Mei let the mayhem of her forced profession wash over her.

The air was acrid; heavy with the dried-squid stink snack-breath of fans rabidly exhaling over her from their stadium seating above.

Brawl pits were large enough for the Jackals and Jizzabels go to work on each other, yet cozy enough so the fans above could drool on them.

To her left, Catgirl Mon was down under the weight of a heavy pinning her shoulders while a second helicoptered on her raised haunches.

It was too late save her. Penetration had been made. Fuck!

Mei took her frustration out on a nearby Jackal with an impolite chop to the Adam’s apple. He gakked, jerked once and stayed down.

An announcer w00ted and ran commentary on Mei’s fighting stats. She itched to jump the wall and make him a stat.

Before she could, she took a misplaced left hook that caught her in the side of the head, clipping her ear. An annoying sting and ring.

She retaliated with a pile driver and raised her fists defiantly. “You hit like your mother bitch! At least she could ride face!”

Whipping around for another doofus to hurt, she caught sight of Tahna eating several jackhammer blows to the stomach. Pneumos!

Mei curse-winced as the perfect-breasted, blonde Slav went down with a sickening wheeze and didn’t get up.


* * * *

Thanks for the interesting post Brent, it was a pleasure to have you on the blog today.


Best wishes,

~Author Jennifer Labelle~

http://www.jenniferlabelle.com

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