The Inverview: Josh Lanyon

Invester-reviewer-gatoring
LBea and TPig Style
(Yes. That's Us)

Scene I

The sun glistens through the back of the Rolls Royce window as LBea and TPig look out into the lush green surroundings of Beverly Hills apparently hung-over.

TPig: Turns, snorts and stares into the camera.


LB: Do I smell like booze, TP? That would be a bad thing, right? Do I still have lime in my hair? Damn it, I am never going to drink tequila shots with you again. *reaches for banaca and sprays both TPig and herself. Twice.*

TPig: Is this thing on *shakes the lens*...

Oh shit! Hi every one and welcome to a special edition of Dueling Reviews. LBea and I are on our way to the mansion of mad skills M/M Romance writer Josh Lanyon.

LB: What? I thought we were interviewing Adrien English? Wait. Who?

The Rolls pulls up to a post modern mansion that looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright cupcake with extra sprinkles. LBea in a sharply tailored silk suit (SIZE TWO I SWEAR) and TPig in a grungy leather jacket and jeans he threw on when he regained consciousness stroll up the wall of glass that looks to be the main entrance and knock on the brushed stainless steel monument from 2001: A Space Odyssey or a door… take your pick.

LB: Hi! Everyone! It's been a while, but that's only because TP and I have been employing our investigative reviewing skills to find the mysterious and reclusive mystery romance author .....dramatic PAUSE *the camera swings wildly to see someone crawling through the bushes*..... Adrien English!...who I believe is trying to sneak out through the servants entrance.


Josh: Huh?

LBea: *While TP throws himself on the guy and wrestles the slender, almost frail looking young man to the ground* --Careful PIGGIE!!! He's got an empty wine bottle-- I'll fill you in about our author du jour. uh. If that's actually him.

Josh: *Locked in mortal or immortal combat with TP* -- Actually who—er—whom?


LBea: *Turns to camera crew.* Maybe we should ask for some ID?

TPig: *Hits the back of the guys head* Quit biting me goddamn it!

*They get off the ground slowly brushing away the moist mulch*

The man coughs and spits out "FOR THE LAST TIME: I am NOT Adrien English!"

LB: Oohhh. He's so feisty TPig! I like 'em with little bite! * pats young man and speaks very slowly* OK, honey. You can be anyone you want to be. TPig and I know all about role playing. May we come in? Cuz my skirts a little snug and I think I popped a couple buttons. *winks to TPig* Then you can tell us all about your secret identity.

TPig: Sorry about tackling you like that. I take it you are Josh Lanyon? *offering his hand*

Josh: *Ignoring the handshake and glaring at Lisabea who tries to straighten his collar* -- WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

TPig: We are here from Desert Island Keepers to do an interview. I could have sworn they told you we were coming.

An uncomfortable look crosses Adri—Josh’s face. His eyes dart here and there—although they do not go so far as to shoot daggers or flame.

Josh:*Picking a blade of grass off his tongue* -- Well, since you’re here...

Scene II

Josh leads us into the house. Gigantic Black Leather and chrome furniture is strewn about like some bad 80's bachelor's pad.

TPig: How long have you lived here Josh?

Josh: We don’t. That is—

LBea: We? Oooh. Dish!

Josh remains silent.

Passing through the immense house every other wall has some type of book shelf containing stacks of books that look to be still in the process of being arranged

LBea: What’s up with all these books everywhere? You know Pottery Barn has great knick knacks. *picks up pirate book end and surreptitiously slips it into her bag*

Josh: Books? Oh. We had a fire recently at the bookstore. The arson inspector said something about—

LBea: Bookstore?

Josh: Gives her a long look. He leads us finally into the kitchen. Eggs and bacon are sizzling on the stove. Coffee is brewing. He opens the fridge and takes out a Tab.

TPig: I think a rum and coke would be nice.

Josh pauses, pulling the Tab tab.

LBea: Rum sounds refreshing!

Josh *Sighs* -- I suppose—

A voice is heard down a small hallway off the kitchen. Baby, Where the hell is my shampoo? I couldn’t find it in any of the boxes. There’s just this apple-smelling crap! *Out walks a towering burly blond man with a hand towel around his waist. He sees LBea and stops.*

Josh *Blanching* -- Oh. Uh…Detective—I mean, Lieutenant Riordan. Good to see you! All of you. We—I—some people—guests—dropped by. Too. Some people dropped by too. Like you.

Jake *Puzzled* -- Some "people guests"? Baby, have you been overdoing the meds again? *He jumps as LBea accidentally snags the towel. (and it WAS an ACCIDENT!)

Jake – Hey, that is assaulting a police officer, young woman! *He backs quickly down the hallway, one large manly hand modestly not even beginning to cover God’s bounty.

LBea & TP watch, their eyes on the prize.

Josh *Faintly* Uh...Yeah. er...Why don't you two make yourself comfortable on the patio and I'll...um....bring you drinks or something. *He picks up phone while pointing to the back of the house.*.

LBea: Sure Adri... I mean Josh, sure. I'm just going to check out..I mean use your powder room, m'kay, Adr-osh?

Josh's head whips up. -- Wha --? Oh. Use the guest bath downstairs. It's...cleaner. Really.

LBea is gone already whipping down the small hallway. She suddenly swings into another room. TPig and then Josh wanders in behind her. There is a humongous four poster bed towering over the room its sheets are rumpled and look recently slept in. LBea seems to be looking under the bed throwing out books as she finds them.

LBea: Skinflick? Who's David Bedwetter?

Josh: Hey! I said, use the guest bath! *he snatches the stack of books from LBea's dainty paws* -- Bedstetter, you insolent slut. I mean, BRANDstetter. Don't tell me you haven't read the Brandstetter series? Joseph Hansen? The first gay mystery writers I discovered were Joseph Hansen and Richard Stevenson. That was actually a bad thing because it set the bar so high and everything that came after those two was sort of...hmmm. But Hansen -- and Stevenson with the Donald Strachey series --

LBea: Who's Donald Scratchy? How did you know I was insolent?

Josh *absently reaching out to wipe brown smudge from LBea's forehead*

LBea: It's hair dye. I had a thing. Just ignore it. *wipes forehead again and GLARES at Josh English*

Josh: STRACHEY. Jeez. You people don't get out much, do you? Donald Strachey. He's a PI. They made him into a TV show on the here! channel. *now Josh is on a roll and no one can get a word in edgewise* Michael Nava was a very good stylist, but I never really warmed to the Henry Rios character and I found the books depressing. And then I discovered Mark Richard Zubro. Hooboy!

LBea *crawling back under bed. Buttons fly.* -- Hooboy? Would you like to comment?

Josh - No comment! No, I take that back. The plotting wasn't too bad in the early stuff, but the characters...flatter than pancakes. RD Zimmerman wrote an enjoyable series. I liked a couple of Lev Raphael's novels. I read everything I could lay my hands on, of course, but not everything worked for me. Fred Hunter, Michael Craft, and Greg Herren: all were skilled at what they did, but none of those clicked for me in the way you need a series to click in order to love it. I started out loving John Morgan Wilson's Benjamin Justice series, but it lost me along the way, and I can't explain why or how.

TPig *manages to smother yawn. He opens eyes very wide, trying to focus*

LBea: My Dearest Holmes? Don't you have any Batman comics? Jeeze.

Josh: HEY! That is a first edition! *He grabs books and shuffles through them, still babbling to himself still under the over-medicated impression that we came here to talk about books* This is one of my favorite oddball one offs -- you know, the books that are forever in my keeper pile: My Dearest Holmes by Rohase Piercy, Cowboy Blues by Steven Lewis, The Night G.A.A. Died by Jack Ricardo. Oh, and a very funny Australian writer by the name of Phillip Scott -- One Dead Diva. I think it was actually the first book in a series though I never found the other books....

LBea reaches under the bed and pulls out the police uniform and the handcuffs and then unsnaps the gun holster and holds up a dildo. Hey, TPig get a load at this! *turns to stare.* I'm shocked, Josh. Really.

Josh: *sucks in a sharp breath and squeaks* How did that...

Jake wanders in now in a bath robe: Adrien, baby, have you seen my old uniform? I have to go to that Policeman's Ball Fundraiser this afternoon and...

Scene III

Josh is quickly escorting the gruesome twosome off the premises.

Josh: Hey, I am SO sorry, Mr. Teapot and Miss Sweetbig, but I forgot that I have a lunch date with my mother in half an hour. I must leave...

LB: ::muttering:: I'm not big.....I'm medium.

TPig: No problem but one more question for our readers. What do you find sexy in PI's? I mean, obviously besides blond and burly and hung.

Josh: Sexy? What is this sexy of which you speak? You know what's sexy? Intelligence is sexy -- especially when mixed with humor. *Oh, God, he is off and running again with the blah, blah, blah* I think the sexy characters are the ones who have a good sense of self -- without taking themselves, or life, too seriously. Confidence without arrogance. And competency is very attractive. In real life and in fiction. But then I also have a softness for vulnerable neurotics -- who knows what that's about!

TPig: Uh, yeah. Thanks for your time, Josh. Josh?

Josh *still happily chattering to himself* -- I do like those wisecracking PIs of the thirties and forties. Tough guys with a soft side or ordinary guys who can get tough if they've got to. Raymond Chandler's Phillip Marlowe -- oh, Georgette Heyer's heroes in historical mystery. Two of my all time favorite characters were Peter Stewart in Barbara Michaels' Prince of Darkness and Brat Farrar in Josephine Tey's Brat Farrar. I like a lot of Dick Francis' characters...

Josh or Adrien or whoever he is climbs into a green Subaru Forester, Jake at the wheel. He’s still rambling on to himself as the tires squeal. Apparently, they are on their way to lunch with the mum.

LBea: *gazes into camera swilling a beverage* Well that's a wrap. From the home of the extraordinarily bor--er...talkative Adrien Lanyon, TPig and I want to thank you for riding along with us on another adventure. And on behalf of our sponsors, the Desert Island Keeper folks, we'd like to....take...uh...yeah....

LBea loses interest and wanders off to find a refill.

The camera zooms in on TPig, alone, sipping a cocktail and staring with interest at a chalk outline on the lawn.