Why you should feel good about reading Romance novels


Here we go again. I’m trying to sell Romance novels this time. I managed to write an entire post about shirtless Scotsmen and 50 Shades of Grey without using a single double entendre. Now I need to go and flush a cherry bomb down the public toilets before the fourteen-year-old boy in me explodes…

Originally posted on Why Books?:

The thin, watery light of a Northern dawn trickles down the hillside, highlighting patches of mist and glinting off the dewdrops coating the heather. The raucous, guttural call of a grouse rings out from some hidden hollow. All else is silent. All else is still.

But wait! What’s this? Movement. A lone figure has appeared over the rise, striding purposefully down the hillside. Could it be…. is it… the Highlander?

It most certainly is. But his presence here answers nothing. It brings only questions. What has happened to his shirt, for a start? We’re pretty damn close to the Arctic circle up here. The silly bugger is going to catch his death of a cold.

Why is he covered in baby oil? And how does he manage to keep his hair in such fabulous condition? The only time I ever washed my hair in a loch and conditioned it with…

View original 3,218 more words

One thought on “Why you should feel good about reading Romance novels

  1. narf77 says:

    I fear you have become my dad Mr 23Thorns, by Louis L’amour default. My dad was a most voracious reader. When he died we donated 14 boxes of books to the thrift shop and that was just the books that we didn’t want to keep. I get the feeling that the Louis L’amour were like amuse bouche or perhaps palate cleansers to him in between the heavy tomes that he invested most of his spare time nose deep in. Yeah, I am NOT a romance reader. I like my “romance” up front and personal rather than in the pages of a safe novel. I link romance novel readers to those women that hook up with serial killers in jail, the romance has a delightful barrier between reality and real life that must NEVER be broached lest chaos and carnage ensue

    I freely admit to loving horror novels and being a big Stephen King fan which throws me firmly into the shlock novel reader category to be shunned by all who consider literature to be represented by large tomes that could be used as entire coffee table legs in tiny serif designed to advance those glasses wearing eyes to coke bottle (and thus eminently obvious that the reader is SO much better and more literate than the average bear…). Bugger it Mr 23Thorns. Life is too short for bad wine BUT bad literature? It’s entirely subjective. Each to their own.

    I must highlight something in your post however…”Thank God the Earl was close enough to rush to her aid”…do these women actually KNOW that this has two meanings?! In the one case, a handsome (rich) bare chested Lord of the manor rocks up in only his expensive tweed dacks to save the day…on the other hand they might just end up with the hound of the Baskervilles (yes, I read it…it is horror isn’t it?! ;) ). “Be careful what you wish for ladies, for it might just come true!”

    My spell checker is a plebeian. It just wanted me to change “Baskervilles” to “Basketballs”. Obviously my vain attempts to fandangle the jiggery-hoozits didn’t work and I am stuck with an American spell checker. Anyone out there who can enlighten me as to how to turn my Yankie spell checker into something that recognises (AARRGHH! “Yes…”recognises” NOT “recognizes!”) my Australian vernacular will earn my undying respect (and a lifetime devoid of my sarcasm…I promise)

    I left a comment on your book shop post. Don’t panic Mr 23Thorns, I was nice and I fibbed ;)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s