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I ran out of toothpaste yesterday, so I went to Fred Meyer on my way home. On a whim, I stopped by the book section to give it a quick browse. I think deep in my heart I was hoping to find Mr. Impossible there, although my chances were fairly slim--the selection is decent, but not exactly huge. I didn’t see it, but a book with a fire-engine red cover caught my eye. There was nothing on the cover other than the title and the author’s name, and woo boy, what a title it was: The Naked Duke.
If there’s one thing in this world more horrifying than romance novel covers, it’s romance novel titles. I mean, honestly. THE NAKED DUKE? The title was so bad it stopped me cold. I had to pick the book up. I read the back, and it was every bit as atrocious as the title. Hapless young American miss somehow finds herself naked in bed at an inn with an equally bare-assed duke (The Bare-Assed Duke--now THAT’s a great title) and is forced to marry him, or some similar claptrap. I couldn’t help myself. I opened the book and gave it my usual 15-page bookstore trial just to see what horrors were going to be perpetrated within.
And you know what? It actually wasn’t too bad. In fact, I thought it was downright engaging. It was incredibly silly and the plot seems about as stretched thin as spandex on Star Jones’s ass, but something about the writing style was fun and kinda fresh. And hey, it’s one of those $3.99 debut author dealies from Zebra Books, and I thought shit, that’s practically GIVING it away, and really I need to do my part to help those poor, suffering, underpaid romance novel authors. So feeling very, very virtuous, I grabbed the book and turned to go to the cashier.
Only to notice that Mr. Impossible, the book I’ve been whining about for two days straight, was right next to The Naked Duke. I mean, literally next to it. Like RIGHTFUCKINGTHERE for the last 14 minutes, but I hadn’t noticed it.
You know that episode of The Simpsons in which Homer becomes the nuclear plant’s union rep, and Mr. Burns finally caves in to the workers’ demands and Homer is so happy he just flops down on his side and starts pedaling himself in circles and making happy weebling sounds? Yeah, I was THATCLOSE to doing that myself.
I am a freak. I need a life.
But that’s not the end of this saga. When I shop at Fred Meyer, I like to use the self-checkout stations. I have it down to a science, and I usually move really, really fast--often faster than a checkout clerk. Since I only had three items, and since one of those items was called THE NAKED DUKE and I’m one of those people with overnice sensibilities about her romance novel reading habit when the romance novel she’s reading has a completely asinine title, I headed right to the self-checkout station and scanned the puppy right in and put it in the bag.
Only to have that eerily calm female computer voice tell that I must put the last scanned item in the bag. I took the book out briefly and put it back in, hoping that this time the computer would register it. And of course it didn’t, because Eerie Soothing Computer Lady was asking me to put the damn thing in the bag again. Trying to act nonchalant, I hit the big red CANCEL button to void the transaction and start over again. Maybe the duke’s nudity was too much for the computer’s processor to handle and contemplating the state of his throbbing turgidity had caused its software to freeze. Nothing a little resetting couldn’t fix. But too late. The clerk stationed at the self-checkout stands for just such occasionas as these had come over and was asking me what I’d scanned in last.
I looked up, and oh my god he was CUTE. Tall, dark-haired, skinny, about my age, and just the cutest face. I about died. What the hell is a cute boy doing working at Fred Meyer? He should be waiting tables at La Bouchon or the Bombay Cricket Club, dammit, where I can slyly drop my cutlery and ask him to help me pick it up. Anyway, feeling distinctly red-faced, I help up the equally red book which proudly proclaims it features a Duke of Great Nakedness within. And his eyebrows raised juuuust a little, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded, smiled, went back to his station, typed something in and voila--the computer stopped asking me to remove all items from the scanner. A computer error, he explained. I refrained from making any retarded cracks about the duke’s state of nakedness being too much for the female in the computer and opted to just flee the scene with a quick wave and “Thank you!” to Cutie Cashier Guy.
I have no decent way to end this stupid entry. I got home, made quiche, had dinner, then got in bed and started reading Mr. Impossible while my girlcat of much loveliness plopped her 12-lb. bod on top of my sternum, rolled onto her back and proceeded to purr while making biscuits in the air like she just don’t care. And the book is marvellous. I’m only about 40 pages in, and I’m counting the hours until I can get home and read some more. Embarrassment with cute boy and all, yesterday was indeed (as the Manolo might say) the super-fantastic day.





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by Candy • Tuesday, March 01, 2005 at 10:09 AM
Sarah: Have you read Putney’s “Thunder and Roses?”
Candy: I read Thunder and Roses ages ago. I remember the following really random things about it:
- The hero was Welsh. Or at least, the book was set in Wales.
- The heroine was Methodist.
- The hero collected mechanical figurines. At least, I THINK he’s the Fallen Angel who collects mechanical figurines.
- There’s a pretty hot sex scene on a billiard table.
- It’s the first in the Fallen Angels series.
Other than that, I can’t recall anything about the plot, or how the hero and heroine met, or anything else.
Sarah: I am liking it so far, though the idea of the heroine being forced to stay with the hero to exchange her reputation for his help in saving the town he’s the freaking Lord of was just this side of unbelievable. But there was some great chemistry right off the bat.
Candy: Yeah, even for a romance novel the way Nicholas and whatserface are forced to spend time together seems pretty contrived. Why can’t heroines tell heroes who insist on doing assheaded things to just fuck off? Oh, wait, then there’d be No Conflict. And thus, No Story.
Sarah: Did you like it, though? And how did that title come to be birthed?!
Candy: I liked it, but I didn’t like it enough to put it on my keeper shelf, either. I don’t know about the title. Maybe Mary Jo Putney was thinking “Days of Wine and Roses” but the huge pot of chili she ate the night before inspired the “thunder” bit? I don’t know. Maybe it’s a metaphor for Nicholas’s rampaging, Zeus-like masculinity stampeding through Clare’s fragrant femininity?
Sarah: PAH! Fragrant femininity! Clare’s fragrant anything, coupled with the chili thunder, is not something I can bear to contemplate right now, I tell you.
Candy: That’s OK. Clare’s thunder smells like roses, doncha know?
OK, that was a TERRIBLE joke, but I had to make it all the same. I was compelled.
Hey, I don’t know if you noticed this, but Putney came up with two very cheesy devices for the Fallen Angels series:
- The characters are named after archangels (Rafael, Michael), saints (Nicholas) or angels (Lucien, which is obviously a reference to Lucifer, who’s the only actual fallen angel in the whole lot)
- All the book titles for the main Angels have weather themes: Thunder and Roses, Petals in the Storm, Dancing on the Wind, Shattered Rainbows.
Sarah: I didn’t notice that the Fallen Angels have meterological titles, but it makes sense. I mean, that falling part might have been influenced by a low pressure system, or something. Like the one is dumping snow on me right now.
Seriously, it is pouring snow.
The whole “we must form a society club or reason for all being the best of friends” device is ridiculous. Why they couldn’t just play on the same rugby team or just room together at Eton is beyond me. They have to be Bound by Tragedy. And with titles that imply the hearts of gold and strong moral fiber lurking beneath their rakish exteriors.
Metamucil: for your moral fiber needs.
Candy: I’m not sure what exactly was running through Putney’s mind while she devised the names and titles of the Fallen Angels series, but I bet she was all “Hmmmm, gotta make this as celestial and heavenly as possible without turning off anyone who’s not religious… Hey, weather is safe and is associated with the heavens....”
And she can even use the same theme if she decides to continue the series in a contemporary setting. Nicholas’s great-great-great-great granddaughter and Lucien’s great-great-great-great grandson can get together in a fiery romance about love in Tornado Alley, called “Twisters and Trailer Parks.” See, the title is also alliterative. Sorta. The hero could be named Zavael (who is allegedly the angel in charge of whirlwinds) and the heroine could be named Sangrariel, who guards the gates of heaven and lets only the worthy in (the gates of heaven being analogous to her heavenly portal, if you know what I mean, nudge nudge wink wink).





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by Candy • Wednesday, February 23, 2005 at 12:09 PM
Mrs. Giggles came up with the absolutely hilarious Regency Drinking Game. In the spirit of good-natured rip-offs (think of it as an homage, if you will), the Smart Bitches have come up with the Contemporary Romance Novel Drinking Game. Bottoms up, and if you can think of any additions, feel free to suggest them in the Comments.
The heroine:
- Is a virgin: 1 sip
- Over the age of 25: 2 sips
- Over the age of 30: 5 sips
- Is not a virgin but has never, ever, ever had an orgasm: 2 sips
- Is not a virgin and has had terrific orgasms, but only because she had sex with the hero before the book began, which has resulted in a Secret Baby: 3 sips
- Is a virgin and somehow still manages to have a Secret Baby (yes, this book exists): Toss the book against the wall and proceed to get as drunk as you can
- Is not a virgin and has had terrific orgasms, then broke up with the hero and has remained celibate: 4 sips
- Celibacy lasts more than 2 years: 5 sips
- Celibacy lasts more than 5 years: 10 sips
- Is not celibate, but the sex with other men has been terrible: 10 sips
- Is described as “curvy” and “busty”: 1 sip
- And then you find out she’s 5’10” and 110 lbs: 1 mug
- Hates herself and her body because she’s been called “fat” by everyone she’s ever loved: 10 sips
- Then you find out she’s actually 5 lbs. under her ideal bodyweight with really, really big tits: 1 mug
- Heroine IS actually overweight (in romance novel terms: more than a size 10): 5 sips
- Has some kind of quirky non-office job like owning a pet store specializing in antique dog collars, or is a Las Vegas showgirl: 3 sips
- The showgirl is a virgin: 1 mug
- Is vaguely described as a “consultant”: 3 sips
- Is employed in a clearly care-giving profession (nurse, doctor, counselor, therapist, social worker, etc.): 2 sips
- Has a home-based career, without children: 2 sips
- Has a home-based career, with children: 4 sips
- Never insists the hero wears a condom: 2 sips
- When the hero decides to bareback or forgets to put on a jimmy hat, decides it’s proof of their TRUE LURVE: 10 sips
The hero:
- Is a police detective: 1 sip
- Is in some way employed in investigations and is a former member of law enforcement: 2 sips
- And was booted out of law enforcement, unjustly of course: 3 sips
- Is a Navy SEAL: 1 sip
- Is a member of some other type of Special Forces task force: 2 sips
- Is a secret agent: 2 sips
- For another country: 5 sips
- Is a sports stud: 1 sip
- Is a cowboy: 1 sip
- Is a doctor: 1 sip
- Is a millionaire/billionaire entrepreneur who’s somehow not a gross, balding, overweight 56-year-old lech who exclusively dates supermodels and Playboy Playmates: 3 sips
- Is a business tycoon who doesn’t actually spend 14 hours a day in his office, leaving him plenty of time to chase the heroine all over the earth: 3 sips
- Is a corporate drone whose job is so boring the author doesn’t even mention it: 1 sip
- Is an alleged geek who doesn’t play video games or RPGs, make Monty Python references, or indulge in any other kind of real-life geek behavior other than look really, really cute in glasses: 3 sips
- Is an alleged geek who makes huge blunders while talking about computers or explaining basic scientific theorems: 10 sips
- Is an alleged geek with limited lovemaking experience yet still makes heroine orgasm the moment he brushes against her clitoris: 1 mug
- Has a big dick, a detail which is noted with clockwork-like precision every time a love scene comes up: 1 sip
- The dick is so big it hurts the heroine, which is noted with clockwork-like precision every time a love scene comes up: 2 sips
- Has an even bigger gun: 2 sips
- The gun is so big it hurts the… oh wait.
- Spends more than 2/3 of the book being angry, snarling, or shouting: 4 sips
- Big-dicked, big-gunned, cranky hero is in a Linda Howard novel: 5 sips
- Or a Susan Andersen novel: 5 sips
- Incessantly calls the heroine “babe”: 1 sip
- Has dated one skanky hobag who has somehow soured his opinion of all women: 2 sips
- Is currently involved with a skanky hobag: 5 sips
- Skanky hobag turns out to be the villain, or in cahoots with the villain: 4 sips
Sidekicks
Heroine’s Sidekick:
- Is described as “wacky” and whose only function is to make the heroine question her own attractiveness in comparison to Mme. Wacky: 3 sips
- Has red hair: 1 sip
- Has big boobs: 1 sip
- Never actually says or does anything remotely “wacky”: 1 mug
- Is wacked in a satisfying and gruesome way: chug and call Sarah to recommend book immediately
Hero’s Sidekick:
- Is more stylish than hero: 1 sip.
- Is gay: 2 sips.
- But hero doesn’t know sidekick is gay: 1 mug.
- And is involved with sidekick: are you sure it’s a romance?
- Is hero’s partner in investigation/law enforcement: 2 sips.
- Swears he himself will never marry: 2 sips.
- But is paired off in secondary romance plotline: 2 sips.
- Is killed off: 3 sips.
- Saves hero’s ass once in story: 1 sip.
- Saves hero’s ass twice in story: 2 sips
- Hero should be dead due to his own stupidity but is saved on multiple occasions by quick-thinking hero’s best friend: 1 mug.
If any of the following words are used at any point of the story:
- Redolent:1 sip
- Turgid: 2 sips
- Erection: 2 sips
- Penis: 2 sips
- Cock: 3 sips
- Dick: 4 sips.
- Fiercely: 2 sips
- Huskily: half the mug
- Savage: the whole damn mug, please--and make sure you savor it with sweet, savage pleasure
- Beguiled: 3 sips
- Arousal (if used to refer to an erection): 2 sips
- Arousal (if the hero actually uses the word to refer to his erection): 10 sips
- Sensual (if used as a euphemism for “heroine looks like a two-bit skank"): 2 sips
- Sensuality (if used as a euphemism for “heroine is acting like a two-bit skank"): 2 sips
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by Candy • Wednesday, February 23, 2005 at 09:41 AM
I love looking at the referrer log for this page. Because of the rampant potty-mouth and our choice of domain name, I suspect 95% of our visitors are just confused. as. hell when they click on this particular Google result. “But where are the pictures of the hot bitches humping?” they probably cry into the depths of the night. But no reply awaits them, alas, alas. Just a couple of smart-mouthed chippies talking endlessly about romance novels.
So other search engine results that somehow or the other point unsuspecting schmucks to this website:
- Gay Dominican cock (now talk about being REALLY disappointed when they actually see what this site is about)
- Bitches humping bitches (I need to use another term besides “hump"--maybe screw? Bone? Pork? Give her the ole in-out, in-out? Walk the ferret? Spelunk for treasure?)
- Books about good and vs. evil in Moby Dick (the poor schmuck trying to find help for her college writing assignment was all outta luck, I’m afraid)
- Blog romance novel published (GOOD GOD, finally, a relevant search result! I’m swooning! Catch me! *splat*)
- And a bunch of referrals from a series of German porn sites.
So once again, I will mention romance novels and romance novel reviews because this site is really allll about what we love and hate about romance books. Not that it’ll do any good. But I gotta keep trying.
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by SB Sarah • Saturday, February 19, 2005 at 07:18 AM
It is too early for a full review, but I am so happy reading “Bet Me” by Jennifer Crusie, after reading several mediocre romance novels, that I had to share. Is there a, “YAY FINALLY” rating on this site? Because that’s what I’d give this book.
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