The Singular Adventures of Jefferson Ball Book Tour & Giveaway

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The Singular Adventures of Jefferson Ball
by David Perlmutter
Genre: YA SciFi Fantasy
There never was a heroine like Jefferson Ball. And, thankfully, there may never be.
She is, simply, the most powerful humanized female dog in a universe full of them. Faster, stronger, more attractive to boys. Unbeatable as a lover. Unfortunately, her brains are not up to this quality, but don’t tell her that.
About the only one who can is Major Hamilton Pomeranian, the diminutive ex-soldier who is Jeff’s best friend and conscience. When she gets too big for her limited clothing, Hamilton tells her what for. And it’s usually only after that point that they are able to escape from whatever convoluted situation they find themselves in.
This potential collection will have readers both laughing and awestruck at the events that happen. And, hopefully, you will be one of them.
David Perlmutter is a freelance writer based in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. He is the author of America Toons In: A History of Television Animation (McFarland and Co.), The Singular Adventures Of Jefferson Ball (Amazon Kindle), The Pups (Booklocker.com), Certain Private Conversations and Other Stories (Aurora Publishing), Honey and Salt (Scarlet Leaf Publishing), The Encyclopedia of American Animated Cartoon Series (Rowman and Littlefield, forthcoming) and Orthicon; or, the History of a Bad Idea (Linkville Press, forthcoming).

Jefferson Ball was drunk.
She was also, for good measure, scotched, tipsy, pickled, loaded, smashed, lit, hammered, jonesed,
stoned, tippled, bashed, pixilated, looped, high as a Georgia pine, gassed, Harvey-wallbangered, flipped,
up-set, just drinkin’, salted, hard-boiled, fried and [insert your own term for inebriation here. There are
many to choose from.]
The most obvious evidence was that she, the most powerful human-shaped female dog in a universe

chock full of them, was lying face down on the floor of the bar she was in- one of many ignominiously-
styled establishments in her home town of Hugopolis. Clad only in her trademark monogrammed black

bikini and black boots, she seemed much more like a typical skid row derelict barfly, someone who had
long ago abandoned herself to the winds of fate, chance and alcohol, than the larger than life heroic- or,
as her enemies saw her, anti-heroic figure she truly was.
Jefferson Ball possessed many virtues, chiefly of the physical variety, that she was wont to exploit in
her favour, manipulative creature that she was. Fortunately for herself and the universe around her, she
used most of them in the service of her kind. Centuries of breeding and body conditioning among her
ancestors, coupled with some shady DNA and genetic manipulation at one point, had created, in
Jefferson, a creature possessed of astonishing physical abilities, among them the ability to run a four
minute mile in less than two, and powerful physical strength, enough to balance hundreds of thousands
of pounds on her fingertip alone. Not surprisingly, these abilities, plus a deadly accuracy with the whip
she always kept at hand, made her a very formidable opponent of the forces of evil, particularly all aliens,
robots, and other supernatural beings who thought they could outfox her in the speed and muscle
department, and especially those who employed those beings in a futile attempt to destroy her.
But, like most heroic types, she had an Achilles heel. Two, in fact- both of which she bore the scars of,
though less than you might think given her remarkable resiliency.
The first of these was the more obvious and the more hurtful to her reputation. Boys of her race- and
the males of any alien race she encountered- and plenty of them! In both the actual evidence known, and
her own personal Munchausian exaggeration of her abilities, she was, indeed, a formidable lover. Mata
Hari and Mae West had nothing on her! But, rather than experienced lovers, she preferred to initiate
virgins- especially fine young things- into the ways of the world. It was common for her, during her
adventures, to regularly slip out of a young male’s boudoir, having blown his genitals to smithereens

(metaphorically) with her own, more powerful ones, and to leave him permanently longing for her touch-
and/or cursing her to the heavens for tricking him into giving up his cherry for good.

As powerful and influential she was as a hero or lover, however, Jefferson had an equally colorful
reputation as a drinker- or, more accurately, a lush. When boys were not available, she drank, and, even
when they were, she drank. Socially and professionally, she drank as well, and this damaged her social
status as much as her being a lover of renown. For this reason, most beings of her gender, despite her
heroism, were reluctant to establish lasting friendships with her on two counts. She would, it was said,
either steal your “man” from you with her charms, good looks, and muscular, pneumatic physique, or she
would do so in a duplicitous way- by drinking you under the table!
It was at this point, almost on cue, that Jefferson’s sole female friend- indeed, the only friend of either
gender she truly had in the whole universe- entered the bar-room, spotted Jefferson sprawled on the
floor, put her paws on her hips, and exclaimed:
“So there you are!”

Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!

About Angie

I'm a wife and a a mom of 4: 3 boys and a girl. I also have 3 fur babies, cats named Soleil, Luna, and a Savannah cat name Malkia. I work part-time outside my home as a COTA/L at a local hospital. I cover Johnstown, Altoona, and Pittsburgh areas. I love to do reviews and host giveaways for my readers. Contact me: angwith4 at gmail dot com if you would like a review.

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Comments

  1. Darlene Owen says:

    This sounds like a funny book, sometimes its good to read a book with humor