(About a 3 minute read)
Three selections from the world’s worst (unpublished) romance novels:
From Quiet is the Yearning:
That evening, and following their supper of cold lamb, the two of them sat by their fireplace for an hour, each in his or her own chair, each with his or her own book, as was their custom most evenings. And there should be nothing out of the ordinary to mention about them, except that Henry, at some point that evening, looked up from his tome to say to Ann (with a measure of feeling in his voice that was unusual to Henry), “You are by no means wretched, Ann.”
“Don’t be a fool, Henry”, Ann replied after the moment it took for her to regain her composure, for the remark had greatly moved her, “You presume to much!”
The couple now — for the warmth of Henry’s remark had made them both realize they were indeed a couple now — the couple quietly returned to their books, deeply satisfied.
From The Accountant of Lust:
At some point during the meeting, her mind had crossed the line from her customary sharp focus on the business at hand to idle thoughts of Jeff. “Why am I always thinking of him”, she wondered, “He’s just a man, and his only distinction is he’s more impossible than most men.”
But she knew it wasn’t true. Not entirely. Jeff was…was.. something more to her than merely the accounting department’s single most despised jerk. Certainly, he was that. No one, not even she, could deny that Jeff was a jerk. At least not after he’d been caught drawing a crude penis on the final page of Louise Franson’s dog-eared copy of her favorite novel, Savage Love.
“I know Jeff can draw so much better than that”, she mused, deeply puzzled, “what motivated him to make the penis so crude? I guess it really must be true he’s a jerk. A more refined man would draw a more refined penis. I’m sure of it.”
“Well”, she thought again, “I don’t care! NO ONE, NOT EVEN JEFF HIMSELF, CAN STOP ME FROM LOVING HIM!”
Abruptly, she realized the whole boardroom was smiling knowingly at her. “Oh god”, she realized, “I’ve been talking out loud!”
Thinking quickly, she decided to poof. Poofing was the only truly reasonable thing she could do to distract her board members from the awful, frightening, but strangely intoxicating, truth that she, the president and CEO of Snuckson’s Motor Parts, had fallen deeply, profoundly, and foolishly in love with a jerk.
From Dark Longings:
Tobias felt his impatience turning into despair. An hour had passed. Then another. And still, no midget.
“What’s keeping him?”, Clarissa asked, moodily.
“How in hell do I know? The talent agency closed at five. There’s no way I can call to find out.”
“Don’t get angry with me! It’s not my fault”, Clarissa protested. But she was too depressed to be feisty, really.
Tobias looked over to the motel room bed where Clarissa sat waiting, dressed in her school-girl outfit. Her hands were toying with the model train transformer, clicking the voltage switch back and forth. Click! Click! Click!
Their usual assortment of goodies lay all around her. A standard can of whipped cream, a fresh, thorny rose bush, the couple’s family Bible, two or three impressively sized dildos, and Clarissa’s favorite teddy bear.
“Maybe we could start without him”, Tobias suggested, suddenly hopeful.
“On our wedding night? No midget on our wedding night?”, Clarissa was incredulous, “But I want this night to be special!“