I’m supposed to grab the nearest book off of my shelf, turn to page 123 and read the fifth sentence.
Oh, you lucky, LUCKY people. It’s a romance. Here’s the gem of wisdom furled forth from the book, “The Reluctant Suitor”.
“As for what your experiences have been, I would assume from your shocked expression in the bathing chamber that I was your first.”
I have written before about my fondness for reading about velvet-encased heaving bosoms, corset flinging, and cravatted men all tritely ensconced in the maudlin pages of the mass-market romance. It is a trait that sends my English major friends (And non-English major friends, if we’re honest) into a frothing, rabid frenzy of despair.
I just can’t help it. I’m fairly well read, but it’s like food: I have a great palate, but I adore “Eating crap”, as my friend Michelle says. I guess my fetish for the raffish carries over to the world of books as well as food.
I’m even a romantic heroine, or to be more specific:
“When Loralee arrived at Fort Apache as the new schoolmarm, she had some hard realities to learn..and a harsh taskmaster to teach her. Shad Zuniga was fiercely proud, aloof, a renegade Apache who wanted no part of the white man’s world, not even its women. Yet Loralee was driven to seek him out, compelled to join him in a forbidden union, forced to become an outcast for one slim chance at LOVE FOREVERMORE.“
I know you are all totally envious of this.
I am supposed to tag five people, but somehow I think I have tortured you enough for one evening.