iPonymous Book Blog

It’s hardly Jane Austen, or is it? However you categorize it – mommy porn, erotic fiction, Twilight fan fiction gone rogue, it’s all become a bit of a publishing phenomenon. Everyone from so-called ‘mommy bloggers’ to hardcore feminists seems to be tuning into the craze pioneered by Fifty Shades of Grey. It’s become the fastest-selling book of all-time, it has beaten all the Harry Potter books and Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code, selling over 20 million copies.

You might recall the long-running joke that Porn for Women is men doing the housework. Well, no more it seems. The phenomenon of married ladies reading smut on their Kindles raises all sorts of interesting questions about how women’s sexuality is viewed by society at large. By modifying the highly-charged word ‘porn,’ are we diminishing its power because we remain deeply uncomfortable with the idea of even adult, married women having erotic needs? According to the breathless news coverage, the answer seems to be, ‘hell yea!’

That sex sells, even to women, should not, in 2013, come as any great surprise. What does is that it’s gotten under our culture’s skin and become mainstream. With Universal Pictures and Focus Features recently purchasing the film rights to Fifty Shades of Grey for $5 million you can expect to see it coming to a big screen near you very soon.

To coincide with the release of Ellis Rose’s second book in the Josie Trilogy, Another Night in Paris, we thought it would be kind of fun to find our very own Josie to become the model, the brand and appear on the cover of each novel and all advertising materials. We are looking for women who aspire to begin or have just begun a career in modelling. You must be at least 18 years of age to participate. The winner will become the face of  Josie and adorn all three covers of the books in the series. If you think you have what it takes to become the beautiful face of the central character, in the novels, send us your picture. All you have to do is join the Facebook Group ‘Find The Face of Josie’ and once you’ve joined you can post your photos to the group.  Alternatively, email your photos here…

The winner will not only become the face of Josie, but will also get a portfolio of photographs taken by Swansea Life photographer, Andrew Davies…

We’ll be running a free promotion with Amazon to download, Another Night in Paris and releasing some excerpts, but more on that soon…

For readers who are currently enjoying 50 Shades of Grey by EL James, you won’t be disappointed by the latest book to be released by Swansea based author, Ellis Rose, Another Night in Paris. As the title suggests, the racy book is set in Paris and follows the exploits of sexy English girl Josie and her friends as they live life to the full in this exciting and exhilarating city. This is the second novel in a trilogy that offers a ‘no holds barred’ exploration of their tangled and graphic love lives. The three books in the trilogy, One Night in Paris, Another Night in Paris, and Final Night in Paris are not for the faint hearted. Readers of EL James will certainly know what to expect and won’t be disappointed.

Now we are looking for the face of Josie, the central character in all three novels, to adorn the covers of both the print and eBooks. If you are 18 or over and would like to become the face of the main character in Ellis Rose’s printed Trilogy, then simply upload your photos to your Facebook page and share them here…  Hurry though as this opportunity is only running this May.

The winner will not only become the face of Josie, but will also get a portfolio of photographs taken by Swansea Life photographer, Andrew Davies…

One Night in Paris 

Josie lives in Paris with her British Flat mate, Chrissie and works with another Brit called Libby.  They live the high life going out to bars, restaurants and clubs, all the time, usually at the expense of their friend Daniel, who is besotted by Chrissie.   At one of their infamous days out Josie meets Max and they begin a steamy but secret relationship. Max already has a girlfriend, whom it quickly becomes evident, he has no intention of dumping.  More…

Another Night in Paris 

With Max well and truly out of the picture, Josie’s future is looking bright, with a new job and a new man in her life.  But things are never quite that simple.  A jealous colleague causes conflict at work and Josie also finds herself in a very dangerous situation. Chrissie’s love life isn’t going smoothly either and both young women find themselves having to deal with situations more complicated than they ever imagined. More…

Toward the end of 1966 we were working the club circuit in the North of England. We happened to be playing in Leeds when it was brought to our attention that Tom’s idol, Jerry Lee Lewis, was performing at a hall in the same city. It wasn’t just Tom Jones that idolized Jerry Lee Lewis, we were all great admirers and loved the man and his music.  There was hardly any discussion, we all decided to descend on ‘The Killer’ and take in his show

Vic Cooper was pressed into service to drive Tom to the gig in his new Rolls. He wanted to make an entrance. The rest of us piled into the van and were driven there by Chris Ellis. The hall was packed to the rafters and we all stood at the back. Jerry Lee made his entrance backed by his four musicians and launched into a cracking start, he went down a storm.

Some of the audience noticed Tom standing with the band at the back of the venue, and heads started to turn as the message rippled through the audience. Pretty soon they began chanting for Tom to get up and sing. This didn’t pass unnoticed by Jerry Lee Lewis, he wasn’t called ‘The Killer’ for nothing. Not only could he beat a piano to death, it was well documented his wild streak ran deep. He was reputed to have a vile temper and at that moment his face was like thunder. But the chanting just got louder and louder.

Finishing ‘Great Balls Of Fire’ midway through the song, he kicked over his chair and glared at the audience, staring them down. It looked as if he was going to reach down into the audience grab someone and throttle them to death. Jerry Lee told the audience they were welcome to Tom Jones and then he stormed off stage.

That was the cue for the audience to push and hustle Tom up on stage. Tom, being Tom, was basking in the attention, it was evident he was relishing it, and allowed himself to be manhandled up onto Jerry’s recently vacated stage. We were all shocked, and even more shocked when he grabbed the mike and called for us all to join him onstage. I was cringing and I turned to the rest of the band and could see they were mortified too. Jerry Lee Lewis was our hero for goodness sake. I remember motioning to the exit and we all started edging toward it.

Then Tom asked the audience to help get The Squires up on stage, and they duly started chanting and hustling us forward. We had no choice but to join him onstage. It was even more embarrassing when Jerry’s band handed over their instruments to us and left the stage to join Jerry in the dressing room. I remember thinking at the time, you just don’t do that sort of thing to a fellow artiste. I think in Tom’s case he wanted to prove that he could outshine his hero.

We launched into a load of rock n roll songs ending with ‘Not Unusual’ and left the stage to thunderous applause. The audience stayed rooted to the spot waiting for Jerry to come back on, but they would have a long wait. The venue manager had to eventually inform them that Jerry would not be finishing his act. There were loud catcalls and boos all around. But you could hardly blame him, he’d been undermined big-time.

We all felt incredibly guilty and traipsed backstage and knocked on Jerry’s dressing room door. He called us in. There he was sitting in a chair looking utterly miserable. Tom apologized for being ‘forced to override Jerry’ and went on to gush about how he was such a massive fan, and how Jerry had been his inspiration. The Killer responded with a glare that could have peeled paint. Needless to say our visit to the dressing room was very short lived, some of Jerry’s band could see which way the wind was blowing and hustled us out. Jerry obviously never forgot the experience because many years later he confronted Tom and they almost came to blows.

Tom and Gordon were both down in the dumps during that period. There was no sign of another chart hit on the horizon. What had made matters worse was that Wilson Pickett had berated Tom both personally and through the press, telling him to, ‘stop recording the crap he’s bringing out and be a soul brother.’ Tom’s voice was as soulful as any black singer and if he had taken Pickett’s advice he might have found a real rich niche at the time. Gordon wasn’t convinced and wanted to keep chopping and changing: blues, soul, country and western, rock n roll, jazz, folk and a mixture of mainstream pop. It was pretty dizzying for us, God only knows what it was like for Tom.

In the end, funnily enough, it was Jerry Lee Lewis he had to thank. In the Autumn Tom was going through his record collection and came across an album of country songs by Jerry Lee. He was really taken with one of the tracks and played it over and over. He told me later that he’d played it so many times that the grooves on the vinyl were almost worn right through. The track was called ‘The Green, Green Grass of Home’.

I remembered that back in Wales Tom had a yearning for country music, almost as much as he loved rock n roll. The culture of the Welsh valleys identified with that whole mid-west American sound, the open scenery, the psyche, the whole ambience struck a real resonant chord.

‘The Green, Green Grass of Home,’ was a track from an album entitled, ‘Country Songs for City Folks’. The song had already been covered by a host of stars in America, as well as Jerry Lee Lewis. Most of the earlier arrangements were mild, toned down instrumental affairs. Les Reed on the other hand gave Tom’s version a much lusher makeover, complete with a string section and vocal backing. Tom said at the time, ‘It was the right song. Some numbers are so personal they can hardly fail. There is an immediate bond between the singer, the lyrics and the audience. What makes me especially proud is that it was chosen by me alone. I knew instinctively that it was right for me.’

The song had been written by Claude Curly Putnam Junior, Inspired by a film called ‘The Asphalt Jungle’. The film starred Marilyn Monroe, and one memorable scene depicts a gangster who wants to return home to his farm before he dies.  At the end of the movie he collapses, bleeding and shot through with bullet holes, onto the green, green grass of home.

The song was released in November 1966 and went to number one in the charts in December of that year. It sold over one million copies in the UK alone and went onto to eclipse that figure when it was released in America. The song appealed to a far broader audience than previous hits and because of this Gordon decided to ‘spruce up’ Tom’s image. Gordon got him to wear beautifully handmade suits and large bow ties. Colourful shirts, jeans and black trousers were now banned. The Squires were also smartened up with dark blue suits. The jackets had high collars, which was my idea, based on the seventieth century coats that local squires would have originally worn back then. Elvis commented on the suits when we met him in Las Vegas in 1968, he told us he was going to get himself some jumpsuits made with similar collars. He certainly did, I remember seeing his white rhinestone encrusted jump suit and the collar was enormous, it dwarfed ours…

This is an abridged excerpt from Tom Jones Just Help Yourself by Vernon Hopkins, to read more visit Amazon here, and look out for Tom on The Voice on BBC.

Vernon’s recollections offer a candid view of the music industry and the book is an action packed and fun filled romp through the era. Its chock full of familiar faces and incredibly evocative, Vernon’s achievement is considerable in recreating the excitement of those long dead days while revealing just what lay behind the headlines…

A number one hit record. We all cracked the bubbly at Gordon’s flat at Campden Hill Towers. The champagne was flowing, it was a massive relief and celebration all rolled into one.  All of Gordon’s friends came along to join in the celebrations: Englebert Humperdink, Les Reed and the money men who had helped him out when things were really bad, Mike Bradley and the agent Phil Solomon. Those guys were especially pleased, knowing they’d invested their money wisely. The Welsh singer Dorothy Squires was there as well. She’d had quite a bit to drink and was swearing like a docker, turning the air blue.

Tom and the band were knocking back the beer and helping themselves to the buffet. Gordon was walking on air, he was in the clouds. He was wearing a left-over paper hat from a Christmas cracker and wandering the room with a grin plastered to his face. He was merrily topping up everyone’s champagne glasses. His eyes were wild with excitement, he had finally pulled it off.

‘It’s Not Unusual’ was being played over and over again, much to Tom’s delight. Although Dorothy Squires wasn’t particularly enamored and told Gordon as much, ‘For fucks sake Gordon, change the fucking record will you. Put one of my fucking songs on.’ Up to that point I don’t think I’d ever heard a woman swear and here was Dorothy Squires peppering her speech with expletives. I was pretty shocked, let me tell you.  Tom said as much to me and told me he’d never heard such foul language coming from the lips of a woman. We both reckoned even the call girls we had befriended down at the Grove would have been shocked.

Dorothy was married to the suave and sophisticated film star Roger Moore at that time, and this made it even more shocking somehow. She was certainly a character was our Dot.

As the evening wore on we were all getting pretty rowdy, surfing a wave of elation. Quite suddenly Gordon approached me a little the worse for wear and he snapped something with his fingers, directly under my nose. Suddenly I was reeling I felt as if I’d hit a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour. Momentarily stunned, I then felt an incredible rush that sent me soaring. Gordon wagged his finger at me and roared with laughter. My legs were giving out under me and I staggered to a nearby chair. Tom and the boys gathered around fearful that I’d had a heart attack. Gordon slurred drunkenly, ‘I bet that blew you’re bloody head off Vernon. Don’t worry, its only Amyl Nitrate, you’ll soon feel okay,’ and with that he wobbled off, tossing the empty Amyl Nitrate phial into an ashtray.

The aftershock left me feeling queasy and on top of all the beer and champagne I’d consumed, really nauseous. I just about made it to the toilet before throwing up. It affected me for the rest of the evening. Amyl Nitrate is a powerful stimulant that causes the heart to pound extremely fast. The veins and arteries dilate and blood rushes through the body at an accelerated rate. This often causes dizziness. Medically it’s used in the treatment of angina, where the heart isn’t receiving enough blood, due to narrow veins and arteries. Notably it has the same effect on the system as Viagra.

I wish Viagra had been discovered in 1965. Gordon wouldn’t have needed to be using Amyl Nitrate to get his kicks and I wouldn’t have had a bloody bass drum pounding inside my head. Later I told him in no uncertain terms never to pull a trick like that on me again.

Tom’s appearance changed dramatically in a short space of time. As that summer rolled on so did his taste for the good life. He took to wearing expensive handmade suits cut by top West End tailor, Dougie Millins. He’d drop by the flat to show off handmade shirts, ties, shoes and jewellery. He had a bunch of gold rings, identity bracelets and neck chains, one of his favourites had a huge chunky gold cross attached. Tom’s humble Woodbines had been replaced by expensive Havana cigars. Gordon had also finally sorted out Tom’s driving test; rather than take it in London, it had been arranged in Bristol, where it was assumed he’d stand more chance of passing. He duly did and turned up at Lime Grove in a gleaming new white Volvo sports car, the same model that Roger Moore had made famous in the television series ‘The Saint’.

Happily stunned by the success of ‘Not Unusual’, we were now unhappily stunned by the way things were moving. It was great for Tom and Gordon but not so great for the rest of us. We all discussed packing it all in, but decided to muddle on in the hope that after another hit we might actually share in the spoils.  Looking back we were young and naive. But on the upside we were certainly getting a lot of attention and there were a lot of amorous distractions along the way that cushioned the blow somewhat, we were certainly really hot at that time and took full advantage.

This is an abridged excerpt from Tom Jones Just Help Yourself by Vernon Hopkins, to read more visit Amazon here, and look out for the FREE PROMOTION to celebrate the start of The Voice on BBC. The Promotion ends on Tuesday 16^th April.

Vernon’s recollections offer a candid view of the music industry and the book is an action packed and fun filled romp through the era. Its chock full of familiar faces and incredibly evocative, Vernon’s achievement is considerable in recreating the excitement of those long dead days while revealing just what lay behind the headlines…

For the month long tour of Australia we shared the bill with Herman’s Hermits, a lightweight group from Manchester. They had been blessed with a string of hits including, ‘No Milk Today,’ and ‘Henry the Eighth I Am.’ we were riding high at the time as ‘Chills and Fever’ had been a massive hit down under. There was a great deal of squabbling as to who would close the shows. It didn’t quite come down to a fist fight, but it wasn’t far off.

Tom stayed at the Sydney Hilton and, believe it or not, The Squires landed a very nice hotel too. It was courtesy of the Australian promoter, who had also kindly paid for our air fare. Throughout the tour, which included a New Zealand leg, we stayed in respectable hotels. It was a real turn-about from the way we were used to being treated by Gordon back in the UK.

I remember playing a massive venue in Sydney on a revolving stage. We performed bang in the centre and the stage revolved 360 degrees so that all the audience would have the opportunity of seeing us play. The place was packed to the rafters with thousands and thousands of fans. On that particular evening we appeared with The Four Tops, with not a Hermit in sight.

There was a bit of a farcical end to the evening.  Tom and the band were signing autographs from the stage. Suddenly Beryl Evans jumped up and joined me on stage.  Beryl was the gorgeous elder sister of my ex-girlfriend Jean from back home in Wales. The stunning blonde had emigrated to Australia with her footballer husband, Colin Gale. We were happily chatting away when I noticed Tom staring daggers at me. He was busily signing autographs as loads of attractive girls swarmed around him, but he had eyes for just me and Beryl.

The band was always aware that Tom had a jealous streak running right through him. Back in Wales he was always lusting after Beryl, he fancied her something rotten from way back. Now here she was the other side of the world, married and chatting away to me, ignoring him completely. Tom shouted over, ‘Hey Vernon, stop farting around over there and put your bloody guitar away.’

My jaw dropped and so did Beryl’s. I remember saying, ‘I’m just having a little chat with Beryl, you do remember Beryl from back home?’

‘Yeah well hurry up, they want to clear the stage. Let’s get out of here, me and the boys are off in a minute.’

The band all looked away sniggering. It was blatantly obvious that Tom was turning green with jealously. He didn’t like to be ignored and he could never disguise it. Just then Beryl’s husband joined us on stage and Tom looking sheepish went back to signing autographs.

Gordon was back in London and had decided not to accompany us on the tour. But he was busy scanning the daily newspapers back home in the UK. Virtually every day there was a news report about Tom’s antics down under. He was rubbing his hands with glee at all the publicity.

The Australian authorities were rather prudish about Tom’s sexual antics on stage. They didn’t care for his tight trousers and his thrusting pelvis was causing consternation. The British press were busily reporting that the Australian police had been ordered to mingle with the audiences and form their own opinion as to whether he was breaking any laws with his suggestive performance.

On one occasion they threatened to close the show when Tom took his shirt off and began swinging it around his head. Tom later joked to a Daily Mail reporter, ‘I only took my shirt off because it was too hot.’

The police didn’t take too kindly to such flippancy. The next performance was filmed by the Sydney police and handed over to a magistrate for inspection. It’s my guess that it was a female magistrate who studied the film, as the report back was that it just looked like Tom dancing, and the magistrate was looking forward to seeing his next performance.

On one of our nights off during our dates in Sydney, we went down town to have a nosy around. We found ourselves in a basement club in the Chinese district. Celebrations for Chinese New Year were well underway, and we settled down to watch the colourful entertainment. There were huge dragons, animated from within by crouching Chinese dancers. They circled and twisted around the dance floor to a deafening cacophony of Oriental music.  We sat there mesmerised by it all, we’d never seen anything like it back home.

Later three guys appeared on the small stage, one of them was far taller than the others. They started singing three-part harmonies and playing guitars. Along with us they must have been the only other non-Orientals in the club. They were mostly singing Everly Brother’s songs and other harmonious melodies. I distinctly recall that one song particularly stood out, as it didn’t fit with the rest of their set. They knocked out Lonnie Donegan’s classic, ‘My Old Man’s A Dustman’. The roomful of Chinese didn’t know what to make of it at first, but soon got into clapping along.

I thought they were quite entertaining, although it was pretty mild non-adventurous music. After they’d finished their set they came over and introduced themselves. They were the Gibb Brothers, later to find worldwide fame as the Bee Gees, with their distinctive disco hits.

Barry Gibb recognised us and asked, ‘Hey you’re the Squires, where’s Tom?’

‘Probably back at the Hilton, chatting up some bird,’ I replied.

‘We’ve got some demos back in the dressing room, Vernon, a few songs that my brothers and I have written. I wonder if you could pass them onto Tom’s manager when you get back to London.’

I remember telling them just how difficult it was to try and get a break, having already been through the mill myself. Our ‘Calcutta days’ were still fresh in my mind at that stage. But we went back to the dressing room to get the demos, chatting about how to get on in the business. They were a nice bunch of lads and I wished them all well.

I returned to join the boys and showed them the three demos and some black and white publicity photos. I’d promised the Gibb Brothers I’d pass them to Gordon upon our return to London.  I did exactly that and told Gordon they were a talented trio. But Gordon being Gordon dismissed them out of hand; he said they’d, ‘never amount to anything.’ Gordon tossed the demos in the rubbish bin. But it was his loss and their gain as they achieved super stardom.  The following year, in 1967, the Bee Gees released the first of their many number one hits, ‘New York Mining Disaster’. It was all legend status after that and the hits just kept coming.

I remember bumping into them again at Elstree TV Studios in late 1967. I told them about Gordon’s reaction to the original demos. Whether they believed me or not, I’ll never know. But they were three very happy guys, everything was on the up for them. The Chinese basement club in Sydney was a very long way behind them.

Many years later I was searching through my attic in Shepperton having a clear out and I came across one of the publicity shots Barry had given me in Sydney. I remember keeping it back as a memento before passing the rest along with the demos to Gordon. It’s a good job I did or Gordon would have binned that as well…

This is an abridged excerpt from Tom Jones Just Help Yourself by Vernon Hopkins, to read more visit Amazon here, and look out for the FREE PROMOTION to celebrate the start of The Voice on BBC. The Promotion starts on Friday 12^th April.

Vernon’s recollections offer a candid view of the music industry and the book is an action packed and fun filled romp through the era. Its chock full of familiar faces and incredibly evocative, Vernon’s achievement is considerable in recreating the excitement of those long dead days while revealing just what lay behind the headlines…