Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

Bitchery Reader Beth sent me a few pictures of Sébastien Chabal, a French rugby player dubbed “The Caveman.” Should we need a muse for future romance, Beth says, “is very big and very wild-looking, wth long tangled hair, but to my mind he looks like nothing so much as a romance cover hero.” She’s got a point. Take a look:

Bitchery reader Pancha writes:

I read this book years ago and remember it as being really good, but the title and author continually escape me.

A space princess is kidnapped by her planet's enemies (or something) and ends up in a horrible penal colony/mine where everyone is so downtrodden that they don't even bother talking anymore. She's in danger of being raped or perhaps eaten by some of the other prisoners when the hero rescues her. He takes care of her and they get it on, until she is rescued by her people, and is forced to leave him behind. She ends up pregnant with his kid, and he eventually escapes (along with a psuedo-romantic rival whom he views as a sister but is there for some added tension), and shows up at her home planet. And she's some kind of psychic. There might have been dolphins?

Not much to go on, but hopefully someone with a better memory than I has read it as well.

Space princess potentially raped or eaten? Someone HAS to remember THAT book. Wow.

Late breaking lonely heart - woo! You know the drill - first one with the name of the heroine, the title of the book, and the name of the author wins Smart Bitch Title™.  It’s been awhile since I’ve used mine, so consider this a command from the Duchess of Cuntington: solve this puzzle!

Nocturnal Blossoming Romance? Maybe!

Fragrantly named CIA assassin seeks mysterious, undead, and definitely older man to be my partner through asskicking series of adventures. I’m healing from recent tragedy, but your hot bod and equally hot talents as my boss in professional asskickery might bring me back to life again, even if you’re, for all intents and purposes, dead. I’m armed to the teeth and you’re armed with your teeth, so we make a great pair. Sign me up, baby, yeah.

Lady Rhian’s scanner is keeping track of how many eyeball searing images it has to scan in, and it’s going to rise up like the robots in Terminator and decide our fate in a nanosecond. That fate will likely involve a lot of mullets. But until then, we are in Lady R’s debt. Because damn.

Sarah: Who came up with this series title? The same people who advertise monster truck rallies on the radio?

“SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY with POWER POWER POWER.  It’s Ecstasy Supreme GEEZER SEX! The old man scrumpin’ is so good, you won’t notice a shipwreck happening RIGHT BEHIND YOU!”

Candy: Unknown fact: Tempestuous Eden is actually the guy’s drag queen sobriquet. He’s moving his hand slowwwwly up her so he can rip off her panties...for himself.

Also, where’s the woman’s right arm? Given the angle of the shoulder, we should be able to see it. Is she a Thalidomide baby?

Sarah: You’d think this was a purple prose-laden novel about grapes and sex, but no. It’s actually a paranormal inspired by the Tooms episodes of the X-Files, only instead of stealing livers, Eugenia there steals boobs. See how she sucks the breasteses out of Mr. Tangled Mullet Wearing Cop Pants, and harvests his man titty for her very very own? Frightening beyond belief, I tell you. Gives me the shivers.

Candy: This educational maverick is sacrificing himself in order to demonstrate to us this age-old question: How do you teach a blind person anatomy?

Sarah: This might qualify for The Cover that Snarks Itself. What, pray tell, is Mightier than the Sword? Her perm? His very tight pants? Or my suspicion that he’s about to toss her chemically processed booty right into that fire?

Candy: What’s Mightier than the Sword? Her Aquanet, that’s what. Why do you think he seems so intent on fox-trotting her into the fireplace? He stands to inherit, and hairspray is VERY flammable.

Sarah: Little known trivia: The artist misheard the title during the art meeting. He thought it was “Wide are My Shoulders.”

Candy: Wild is their love. Savage is their wax job. Orange is their fake tan. Helmet-like is his hairstyle. Caked-on is her make-up. 

Bitchery reader MaryKate sent me this video from a beauty contest in the 80’s. Now, I’ll be honest: I went to a women’s college in the deep south, and in my Freshman dorm there were many titled beauty queens. If I recall correctly, there was a Miss Georgia Peach, Miss Peach Blossom, Miss Gritfest, and assorted county and state Miss, Jr. Miss, and Lady titles as well. And at the time, I’m embarrassed to say my own college had a beauty pageant, which I had to cover as editor of the school paper. Not even joking folks. The stories I could tell.

Anyway, not ONCE in the history of my college pageant was there a talent performance like this one, so painful, so hilarious, so utterly utterly odd, I’m sure it will inspire you writers of futuristic romance with all kinds of fabulous new heroines. Or make you dose yourself with Vicodin.

Bitchery Reader Tracy writes:

I remember reading this book while babysitting.  I read it in small doses b/c it belonged to the woman I babysat for, so I only read it when I was babysitting and the kids were in bed (I didn’t want them to tell their mom I was reading her books! LOL)

Anyway, the general premise I remember isn’t much but it was about a guy whose face had been horribly scarred (I believe it was a car accident when he was young and his whole family, except him, died) so he was a recluse in his own home.  Young neighbor girl is in love with him or curious about him or something like that. So, she sneaks into his house (I think she’s “of age” by the time she does this) and they end up making love a bunch of times.  But he still thinks she’s too young or can’t love him b/c he’s ugly.

The title had “beauty” or “rose” in the title I think. It was a “Beauty and the Beast” kind of thing.

I was in high school which was the late 80’s or early 90’s so it wouldn’t be a book published after that time.

This book could be really horrible, but I just remember how fun it was to sneak reading it and re-read the sex scenes LOL

Tracy

I received an email message from an aspiring writer who wishes to remain anonymous, but who asked for my ever-so-stellar advice with the following problem:

Dear Smart Bitch Sarah:

You gave some damn-sharp advice the last time someone wrote to you, so I wanted to ask your help with my problem. I’m part of a critique group of four writers, and while one of them, let’s call her “Ann,” is amazing and so helpful when she reads my work, the other two are less helpful. “Beth” gives comments and critiques that are very minimal, so I’ve learned to take her with a grain of salt. But “Carrie” is my problem. She doesn’t pull her share at all. She never meets our deadlines and has some excuse every time, and she doesn’t give our work half the attention she seems to expect for her own writing. I get nothing but frustration out of dealing with her and I seem to be the only one who finds her to be a flake. But I was invited to join the group by Ann, and I’m the newest member so I don’t want to cause trouble. Plus, Ann’s critique of my work in progress has helped me so much, I’m unwilling to leave and lose her excellent advice. What would you do?

Discouraged Writer

From Marta Acosta, who writes:

Okay, here’s my help a bitch out.  I read a book many years ago by a woman author.  The main character is a werewolf.  She locks herself in the basement with a sack of dog food every full moon.  She’s living out in the woods somewhere and often hears other woods.  Some guy guesses her secret and he helps her come to terms with her wolf identity.  I think she joins the pack nearby.  I’d classify it as contemporary fiction, rather than as a paranormal.  I remember thinking it was really well-written and captivating.

Dude saves woman from dog food? Now that is romance. 

Bitchery reader Bella asks for assistance identifying the first romance novel she ever read:

First romance I ever read:

The setting was Europe in the olden days when virginity was a Very Big Deal.  The heroine is supposed to marry, and overhears to husband to be (in the garden?) dissing her and boasting about how deflowering her will be such a great accomplishment for him.

She is pissed.  She knows she can’t do anything about the marriage (I can’t remember if this was due to a loving father’s dying wishes or something, or if she just understands the world in which she lives), but there is one little matter she can do something about.

She decides to lose her virginity and shares a night of passion with an anonymous stranger (at an inn, set up by--? Loyal servant?).  She leaves in the morning before anonymous stranger wakes, leaving a bag of gold on the mantel.

Anonymous stranger is bowled over by the Amazing Gift that this amazingly gorgeous woman has bestowed on him.  He is insulted by the money, and vows to find the Beautiful Stranger.

Heroine returns to her life and marries the cad.  He is abusive (and verrry angry about not being able to deflower her).  The climax of the plot includes the heroine being locked in her room, while the house is on fire.  Of course, she is (somehow) found and rescued by the anonymous stranger.

The only other thing I remember is that the anonymous stranger was a sailor or ship captain.  Something boat related.

But what is it?  Help!

This time, we’re not looking for a book - we’re hunting a cover model. Read on:

I’m looking for the guy in this cover so I can use him as a graphic. I *think* he’s on istockphoto because I’ve seen him on several covers from different e-publishers ( i.e. I don’t believe he’s an EC model), but I CANNOT find him. Someone suggested that I ask the Smart Bitches, so I was wondering if you--or any of the Smart Bitches--would have any clue how to find him?

Help!!

Thanks,
Crystal

Colette Gale gave me a heads up (HA!) about her appearance at the In the Flesh Erotic Reading Series with Jane Lockwood (HA!). Seems they’ll be reading excerpts from their erotic novels Thursday night along with several other acclaimed erotica writers at the Happy Ending Lounge (HA!) on Broome Street in Manhattan. Book giveaways, ahoy. And folks reading about dirty doings with naughty parts. Man, if it weren’t six years out of my life to get in and out of Manhattan from Jersey, I’d totally go.

But instead, I’ll sit around and check out the kid’s meal toys from Sonic. Seems my friend DB’s wee children went there for dinner recently, and her son’s kid meal toy caused quite a ruckus - see for yourself. That bad boy (HA!) lights up!

Now I know it’s most likely supposed to be one of the phalanges, but come on (HA!). That’s not at all what it looks like. I wonder if they vibrate?

A few days late - but mazel tov and congratulations to Smart Professor Sarah Frantz, who had a baby boy on 10 October. Baba O’Riley and I say welcome to the world, and we’re so looking for a play date.

The voting over at RT’s American Title contest has started, with the Best First Line competition: take a look at the finalists.

Which do you like? I’m torn between Out of Sight and, oddly enough, Out Of Sight, Out of Mind.

And, while I’m on the subject, what’s your favorite first line of a romance novel?

To be honest, I usually don’t notice the first line, though I was struck by Eloisa James’ first line of An Affair Before Christmas (due out in December this year):

Ice hung from windowsills with a glitter that rivaled glass, and new snow turned the sooty streets to rivers of milk.

A bit of a mixed bag of imagery, but snow turning streets to rivers of milk? I dig that, partially because I’m hoping for big ol’ snowfall this year and when there is enough snow on the ground, the analogy is apt (and I won’t mention the subtle sexual undertone of the image, either).

What about you?

Some people contend that the premises for most great speculative fiction can be summarized in one sentence. We here at Smart Bitches like to go a bit further than that: we maintain that the premises and plot points for the best (and worst) romance novels can be summarized in four words. Feel free to play along at home and try to guess the the novels we’re talking about, and provide a four-word précis for your own favorites in the comments.

Virgin royalty spontaneously lactates.

Unwilling wife? Use cream!

Ehxtra Hh’s? Anghsty Vhampires!

Chicken Marsala, great shoes.

Victorian miss loves ninja.

Not retarded; just deaf.

Not retarded; stroke victim.

Hedgehog saves the day.

Soon she’ll settle in.

Rape rape rape. Virgin!

Not really a whore.

Preserve virginity with

The widow’s a VIRGIN!

Scarface finds true love.

Who is the daddy?

Evil twin = true love. (OK, so this one is sort of cheating a little with the word requirement.)

Cross-dressing captain’s crew? Buttpirates.

Conscientious objector is virgin.

Her mom: Hester Stanhope.

No memory? No problem!

Synesthetic musician seduces ingénue.

Jewboy loves shiksa aristocrat. (Alternatively: Love and bubonic plague.)

Her trauma? Scarred legs.

No condom means love.

He was a hooker.

Unbalanced highwayman in love.

She fucks fey folk.

She fucks moving things.

So Candy and I were chatting and on a whim I checked our stats to see where folks are coming from, and while Candy was ranting about Portland traffic, I started hyperventilating:

Seems PC Magazine picked our site as one of their top 100 staff favorites.

*wheeze*

We’re on the same list as Daily Kos and Cute Overload?

*WHEEZE*

Now that is COOL! OMG! SQUEEEE!

So hello there, PC Magazine readers. Welcome to our hot pink celebration of romance novels. Enjoy your visit - and if you’re looking, these are the F reviews. Enjoy! (Psst- this one is my favorite).