...any kind of romance novels for that matter. Sorry if it's your cuppa-t, but the vapid, overdone storylines are just impossibly tasteless to swallow.
Lets see if I can become a "#1 Bestselling Author!" like is listed on EVERY ROMANCE NOVEL EVER!!!1!!1!!11one >.<
*ahem* (in the following synopsis, pick one or more of the items listed in each color for each section to complete the sentence)
Sweet/innocent/cute/sexy girl who is a vampire hunter/orphan/cop/detective/werewolf is having a rough personal life because her boyfriend/buddy cop/partner/lover/boss/master has died/been killed by other monsters/been killed by her/committed suicide/found another lover/turned gay. Meanwhile, a body/corpse/victim/skeleton/arcane circle/nun is found in a local alley/bar/her apartment/strip club/vampire hangout and our heroine has to solve the mystery because she's accused/bored/fearful/vindictive/horny. While getting started she runs into a mysterious man/vampire/werewolf/scottish highlander/alien/demon/ghost who draws her to him with his irresistable/unrelenting/exotic/deep/throbbing passion/lust/looks/soul/manhood even though he's the killer/killer/killer/killer/killer. The story drags on for numerous improbable/outlandish/impractical/fantastic soft-core sex scenes, in which his hard/firm/rigid/rocky/hot/warm/immense/throbbing/pulsing/seeking/flexing manhood/manliness/shaft/erection/pole/hardness/masculinity performs impossible feats of ecstasy/desire/lust/transportation, then culminates in her realizing the obvious, that he's the killer/killer/killer/killer/killer, and she's forced to kill him/ignore the fact and make love to him again/kill herself/have an emotional discussion about how they can never be together because she's jewish/kill her ex/hide him from the police/turn him into a vampire/turn him into a wolf/turn him into a demon and then through some incomprehensible plot twist, she ends up alone at the end so that the series can continue.
Woo! now I'm "ZOMG #1 BESTSELLING AUTHOR EVAR!" Just like Hamillton, Kenyon, Harris and all those other pen names for the romance novel industry's pool of hack writers. (Oh, you didn't know that? You thought that the overly made-up woman on the back cover who "takes time out of enjoying the Vegas nightlife to set down her martini and write" [a no-shit direct excerpt from a back cover] really did all the writing? Silly person)
Anyway, time to sleep. Moar rage later.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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