trashy romance novels...

[ashe]

= womens porn?

[David Boxen]

DOh...you mean those aren't for guys too?

[GrahamB]

David - is this you?

[Michael]

I voted yes expecting that ashe is going to show this to his wife to win an argument.

[Muad'dib]

I know someone who writes women's romance novels, because they pay a flat fee that is mildly respectable. As a result I actually read a harlequin romance. I stopped reading when the hero and heroine were on the bed and there was a line about the woman's "Flaying limbs"...

[ashe]

I stopped reading when the hero and heroine were on the bed and there was a line about the woman's "Flaying limbs"...

[klonk]

I know someone who writes women's romance novels, because they pay a flat fee that is mildly respectable. As a result I actually read a harlequin romance. I stopped reading when the hero and heroine were on the bed and there was a line about the woman's "Flaying limbs"...

For the sake of the friendship...blame the copy editor. The author plainly meant "flailing." Or I hope so.

[Franklin]

lol...
this thread reminded me of the southpark where mr. garrison wrote a romance novel

and on a different note:
how much to they pay the author for producing one of these novels...

[Chanchu]

No they are romance novels not porn!

Just like when women go to 3rd world country's to relax and hook up- they are not sex tourists they are on a "Romance Vacation"

[Teazer]

For the sake of the friendship...blame the copy editor. The author plainly meant "flailing." Or I hope so.

Or there is another genre of romance based on Lovecraft

[Bär]

[Interloper]

As she surveyed the rural landscape, Tessa casually flipped back the thick lock of rich auburn hair that had loosened from its velvet bow atop her head and tumbled over her porcelain-skinned brow. Her coach jostled along the country lane, top-hatted driver cracking his thin whip to hurry the horses along before nightfall. The golden light of late afternoon was bathing the verdant hillsides in warmth, belying the chilly breezes of autumn that would race through the village of Digby's Forge in just a few short weeks.

The gleaming mahogany coach rounded a corner, and the alabaster columns of Greenshield Mansion slipped into view. Tessa gasped. She had been told that the manse and its grounds were a majestic estate, but she was not prepared for the opulance of its presence, with enormous limestone fountains, neatly clipped boxwood hedges, a winding pebble-lined entry road and enormous white portico festooned with elaborate carvings that loomed over a wide bay where carriages pulled in to pick up and discharge passengers. This, Tessa thought, truly was the domain of a fabulously powerful family that had known wealth for centuries, and basked in its glow without reservation or self-consciousness.

She was jolted from her revery by a sudden clatter of galloping hooves and a sharp rap on the side of her coach door. She peeped out the curtained window to glimpse a dark-haired, becloaked man riding hard on a muscled and sleek black stallion. The rich leather trappings he wore -- shiny black boots, leather gauntlets, and a wide leather belt into which a jeweled dirk was thrust -- hinted that he must be part of the family she was about to serve as governess to its pale young child whose mother, the lady of the manse, had passed away a few short months earlier.

"Hold! Hold," Tessa heard the dark rider cry to the coachman, and the vehicle jerked to a halt, causing Tessa's bags to lurch from their resting place atop the coach and nearly tumble onto the lane, held back -- fortunately -- by a leather binding strap.

The door was yanked open, and standing there was the rider. No longer astride his steed, he was still a commanding presense, a strapping, cleanshaven young man of at least 6'2", and broad shouldered. His eyes were a steel-blue, his hair raven-black, his skin tanned golden from perhaps many days spent at the hunt or engaged in other manly outdoor sporting activities. "You must be Tessa Brightwin," he said in a deep but reserved voice.

Tessa was at once stunned and overwhelmed by the sheer manliness and virility of the figure that stood before her. He was like an exquisitely carved Greek statue of a warrior, such as she had seen in the books her tutor had brought to instruct her in classical history. Her heart began to pound, and her porcelain-pale bosom heaved beneath the bodice of her velvet brocade traveling dress. She had never seen such a masculine presence in her young and virginal life, and she began to feel a warm, tingling flush of sensations and emotions she did not yet understand.

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, "I am Tessa." As the words tumbled from her vermillion-painted, lushly full lips, her body ached for this tall, strong young nobleman to sweep her into his arms and spirit her off to some dewy bower to teach her the ways of love... of passion... of romance. Her mind could not fathom this, yet her lithe and nubile body seemed to know things, to crave things, to have a burning and powerful desire for...

"I am Bradford Elliot Cuthbert Upwellington the Fourth, inheritor and master of Greenshield," the horseman rejoined. "You are my son's new governess. Welcome. I will show you to your chambers so you can freshen up, then my servant Giles will take you about the house and grounds so you can become acquainted with our home. You will then join me for supper at seven o'clock."

Then, without another word, Tessa's new employer lept astride his mount and galloped off, leaving a puff of dust. Tessa blinked as though waking from a dream. Her body trembled, from her perfect, delicate toes to the tip of her sculpted chin. The powerful sensations that held held her captive slowly were subsiding, but the thrill of them had not faded. What might she expect tonight at dinner with this imposing and commanding man? Her mind thought one thing, but her body secretly hoped for something else...

________________________

Okay, that's all I have the energy to write for today.

[Interloper]

Oh COME ON. Those are all gay guys.

[Bär]

You write a couple of those and you can make some money!

[Darth Rock&Roll]

actually I'm pretty sure that shoes, bags and accessories are porn for women.

this is more like some obscure fetish.