Tuesday, May 27, 2008

I'm not proud of it but there it is...

I have a confession to make. I read romance novels. There I said it. Before now, I have been forced by societal prejudices to hide this flaw in my character, however the new me is at peace with herself. Dimpled thighs, purse fetish, romance novels, that's who I am. None the less, I don't openly acknowledge my reading habits. I like to read in bed at night, tucked away from prying eyes. In public, I have a lovely grape colored paperback cover up- it's like a bathrobe for your book. It was sent to me by a good friend, and fellow fallen woman (we'll call her Lou Anne) to dress my novels in. From a distance I could be reading War and Peace or the manual to my camcorder, no one knows. My new favorite format is ebook. I can store hundreds of heaving bosom novels on my palm pilot and read away in movie theatres, on airplanes, even at boring dinner events. I keep a copy of The Kite Runner on my palm pilot turned to page 72 so that I can flip to it when people feel the need to read over my shoulder (how very rude,) I've never read The Kite Runner (well except page 72) but I hear it's a good book and I'll get to it when they stop publishing romance novels . There are many reasons why I choose romance to read in my "off" time. One, the all important happy ending. It's a forgone conclusion in romance novels that the hero and heroine will fall in love, live to a ripe old age, have many children (all of whom behave admirably and marry well) and die in each others arms. Two, I home school my children and I must offset Genghis Khan and the Mongol horde and long division with something. Three, I never have to wait my turn. No one else in my family is ever reading a Julie Garwood when I want it. Four, it makes my husband, who has never missed an episode of Stargate and named one of our children after a Star Trek the Next Generation actress, feel very superior. He asks for so little, I let him have that. And last, and most important, have you looked at some of those covers? Not the ones with half dressed Earls and blushing maids with petticoats askew, but the ones with bulging muscles and naked male chests?

Now, I used to be a romance snob, only historical novels were good enough for me. Contemporary, blech, how very common. Paranormal, palease, that was for those who couldn't commit.I mean, is it romance or sci-fi? And as we all know, it is entirely within the realm of possibility that someone might get thrown back to 1200 A.D. Scotland and find the man of her dreams whereas shape shifters, ghosts and vampires are just plain silly. Oh, how wrong I was. Did you know that highlanders sometimes get catapulted into the future and are possessed by demons and all they need, bless their hearts, is the love of a good woman to turn their lives around and save the world to boot? And my new secret joy? J.R. Ward's the Black Dagger Brotherhood, contemporary, paranormal, and great covers. I've got the next installment on pre-order. I've even been known to pick up a series romance because of the man chest on the cover. Okay, maybe I wouldn't "pick it up" but I've ordered more than a few from Amazon I tell you. My mother would probably deny it to her grave but she also reads romance novels. Maybe it runs in the genes.

1 comment:

the Campfollower said...

YOu know I too am a Smut novel fiend. We talk about it often. OK....I gotta turn you onto my new SEAL Smut. Big Studly Navy Seals are the "Heros" oh it is such darn wonderful stuff. I would get alot more bags made if I didn't have some SEALs waiting to do their thing. Good Stuff!

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