<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378</id><updated>2011-11-05T08:51:45.799-07:00</updated><category term='Margaret Atwood'/><category term='Romance'/><category term='Harlequin'/><category term='Unicorns'/><title type='text'>Shellswick Presents</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-1408549009790287215</id><published>2008-08-19T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T00:02:05.545-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Margaret Atwood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harlequin'/><title type='text'>That Carolina Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Janet &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dailey&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Well, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;oy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.  This one is a "vacation" story.  Annette, our heroine, is on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;vaca&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; with her family and she meets the owner of the resort they are staying at and tries to, and of course does, land him.  For some reason, she pretends to be 17, even though she is really the ripe old age of 20.  But they get over it of course. Other than that, nothing interesting happens.  The family relationship are bizarre and awkward and the "couple" is disturbing and icky.  That is a recipe for some tastiness.  Don't believe me?  I can prove it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Marsha was half convinced that her older sister was a bulldozer made out of velvet.  Somehow Annette managed to push obstacles aside as if they didn't exist." p. 44&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I think Velvet Bulldozer was my favorite Glam Rock band!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'I'm not sure yet,' she admitted. 'At the moment, being seventeen in his eyes is an advantage.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Marsha frowned. 'I missed something.  How is it an advantage?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I wouldn't even want to try to guess how many twenty-year-old girls he's dated in his lifetime, but how often do you think he's been attracted to a supposedly seventeen-year-old girl?  Right now I stand out in the crowd.  I'm not just another &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; in his life.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I hadn't thought of it that way,' her sister admitted."  p. 47&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Well, who would think of it that way, aside from perhaps some hardcore Nabokov fans?  This little "plan" she has going is both creepy and icky and creepy again.  And seriously, does anyone really want to know the answer to "how many seventeen year &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; has my man wanted?"?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The dating tips in here were rated too manipulative by the chicks who wrote "The Rules", as is evidenced by this next little gem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'You can't be serious.' Marsha stared at her, fully aware that Annette was perfectly serious. 'I came along with you this afternoon just to play tennis.  You didn't say anything about losing my sweater.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Marsha, you aren't losing it.  You're just going to accidentally leave it behind.  And if you're going to argue, will you please smile?' she urged.  'I don't want Josh to think we are up to something.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'No,'  Marsha agreed with a wide and faintly sarcastic smile. 'We mustn't let Josh know that we're plotting against him.  If you want to leave a sweater behind for him to find, drop your own- and leave me out if it.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Marsha, I can't.  It would be too obvious if I left mine,' Annette reasoned with forced calm.  'It has to be your so he won't get suspicious.'" p. 51&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;*sighs*  Seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'Do you?' he challenged. 'To you, a kiss is one step beyond holding hands.  But to me, it's one step away from the bed!  That's where this one will lead, you know.'  His gaze narrowed on the warmth that flooded her cheeks. 'No, you don't know, do you?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Josh, I-' Annette wanted to change the subject, suddenly unable to handle the topic of sex.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'You thought it would be exciting and a little wicked to tease me and tempt me with your little Lolita act.'" p. 74&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;*double sigh*  At least they acknowledge the creepiness...although, they don't seem nearly as upset about it as I was.  Particularly, when it got creepier, on the next page.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"There was no mistake that her father was looking their way with narrowing interest.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'If he knew what you were up to.' Josh said.  'he'd take you over his knee and spank you.  Which is precisely what you need!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Maybe I'm into spankings!'  Annette flashed, and turned to cross the gangplank to the dock, her carriage stiff with pride." p. 75&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I think it is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; a great idea to scream at a near stranger that you are into spankings, within earshot of your father, stepmother and baby brother.  Particularly, when you are saying it to be a jerk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So, a few pages later, she confesses.  Apparently, being 2o is like, totally, like super mature, the fact that she acted like a 15 y/o not withstanding...and so he invites her to his hotel room, where THIS happened.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'Do your tastes run to spicy things?' she asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I can't imagine anything more boring than a bland diet,' he replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Neither can I.' Annette agreed.  'I hope you realize how frustrating it was trying to act the age you thought I was.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I hope you realize how frustrating it was trying to treat you like the girl I thought you were instead of the woman I wanted you to be,'  Josh countered.  'You knew that.  And you deliberately provoked me.'" p.101&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Ack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;ack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;ack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.  Oh and, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ack&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Under the special Margaret Atwood &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;category&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; of explaining all metaphors...This is still at the dirty dinner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'There are two ways people can learn to swim,' Josh said, and Annette gave him a puzzled look.  The subject was totally out of place.  'The quickest is to throw them into the deep end and hope their instinct for survival will get them safely ashore.  But that's a severe shock to the system and it rarely turns out to be a pleasant experience.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;He paused briefly and it began to sink in that he was speaking analogically, comparing swimming to making love.  Annette felt her inner confusion and tension begin to ease with his words."  p. 105&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Creepier and creepier thought EVERYONE!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'Don't you want to marry me?' she murmured with a sinking heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'No.'  His reply was brutally simple.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'But-' A hard lump welled in her throat.  Annette had to pause to swallow it. 'I thought....'  She tried again.  'This afternoon you asked if I would be interested in having your baby.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;A wry kind of amusement flickered across his features. 'Annette, that was another way of asking to make love to you.' he explained with droll patience. 'That is how babies are made, but I have absolutely no intention of getting you pregnant.'" p. 140&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I just...really?  Really?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So, she runs off and nearly get assaulted by some other dude who she throws herself at and the Josh dude comes and saves her and then brings her to her dad.  To tell on her.  And then this happens...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'And that can't be, since Annette is going to marry me.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The calm statement jarred Annette to her feet.  'What?' She was furious at his supposition she would accept.  After all he'd put her through tonight-humiliating her in front of her family- he was crazy to think she's fall all over herself accepting his proposal.  She stood before him, her arms rigidly at her sides and her hands clenched into fists. 'I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Josh wasn't impressed by her anger or her denial.  His gaze was coolly indifferent as it ran over her face.  'Where you are concerned, I am the last man on earth,' he stated simply. [...]  'You aren't going anywhere.' he informed her with tight-lipped grimness. 'I can't make up my mind whether you need a husband or a keeper.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I don't need you!' She hurled the bitter words at his fingers dug into the soft flesh of her arms to hold her, inflicting pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'It's about time somebody took you off your father's hands,'  Josh declared roughly.  'You've caused him enough grief already.'  His hard gaze swung away. 'With your permission, Mr. Long, I'm taking Annette as my wife.'" p. 187&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;What Dad, upon viewing that touching scene, wouldn't say yes to letting that man marry his, insane, manipulative bitchy daughter?  Right.  Neither did he.  He consented, because it were true love...apparently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Know what else it was?  Yeah ya do.  Cracky cracky crack crack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-1408549009790287215?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/1408549009790287215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=1408549009790287215' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/1408549009790287215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/1408549009790287215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2008/08/that-carolina-summer.html' title='That Carolina Summer'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-8533804861243976707</id><published>2008-08-19T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T21:10:53.332-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Romance'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Unicorns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Harlequin'/><title type='text'>To Catch a Unicorn</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Sara Seale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Yep.  Another unicorn.  Woohoo!  This one was originally published in 1964, which means there is a lot of delicious stuff in here..so without further adieu...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Laura and her cousin, Cleo, go to visit Cleo's dead husbands family (The husbands name was Troilus.  Troilus and Cleo.).  Laura is a simple (read: stupid and naive) girl who loves Cleo's little son.  Cleo is a bitch (read: bitch) who hates her little son.  Naturally, the family has money that is controlled by an "arrogant" eldest brother, named Dominic, and a fun loving (read: drunken idiot) younger brother, named Perry (Peregine).  Cleo wants to marry Dominic but is sleeping with Perry.  Perry doesn't really want either of them but he sexually harasses Laura.  And, of course, the couple we are all rooting for is Laura and Dominic.  Apparently.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Oh and they live in Cornwall.  I don't know much about Cornwall, except what I have learned from these books, and I hope, for the sake of the Cornish people, that none of these weird and random traits ascribed to the Cornish folk have anything to do with reality.  But, I am pretty sure they don't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Again, the awesomeness starts on page one (which was listed as five).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, buckets of blood!'  she exclaimed, reverting to an oath of her schooldays, and staring up at the man who was already stooping to help her to her feet, thought that the absurd expletive was not inappropriate.&lt;/span&gt;" p.5&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Ya know what, let's just make up our own grammar rules from now on.  And what a charming glimpse at our heroine. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Cleo's outstanding mothering is evident right away.  She wants her son to "charm" Dominic so that he gives the boy and his mother scads of cash.  But the little boy's taste in men runs to the frivolous.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"'&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hasn't settled down too badly considering everyone's strange to him, and of course he dotes on the oddities of this preposterous house.  Incidentally, that perishing brat of mine isn't being at all co-operative; he seems to have taken a scunner to the only uncle who is important to him.  I hope you'll be able to wean him to a more tactful state of mind now that you are here.'&lt;/span&gt;" p. 24&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Awww Mommy Dearest ain't got nothing on you, Cleo.  And, in case you were wondering, scunner means "an irrational dislike; loathing" (dictionary.com), like you have for me for making you hear about this book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Dominic caught Perry messing about with the delicate bloom that is Laura which lead to a ridiculous fight, including the following passage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;"'I read somewhere that in a certain type of man, the protective instinct is the male essence, the springboard of sex, so to speak, and you, my dear Dom, have all the earmarks of custodian and overlord.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'For God's sake stop talking a load of half-baked claptrap picked up from the trick-cyclists' Dominic snapped."&lt;/span&gt;p. 73  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I have no idea what he means by "trick-cyclists".  I looked it up and the internet broke.  Your knowledge may vary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Laura and Dominic discuss Nicky's affection for some of the dogs around the manor house, took a turn for the romantic...note the use of the affectionate and loving nickname.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;"'Poor old dog- he probably craves for a bit of affection.  Don't we all?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Do you?' she asked, sounding surprised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Oh, yes.  They say what you've never had you don't miss, but it's not strictly true, do you think?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'No, but you have to give as well as receive.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Very true, Miss Prunes and Prisms.  Some of us, though, have to be shown the way..&lt;/span&gt;.' p. 76&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Can you feel the tension and affection and love? Maybe if you re-read it?  Or maybe this next part will help.  The first speaker is Laura.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;"'It was the way you answered- the way you so often talk to me- rather as if I were Nicky.  That's what makes me uneasy sometimes.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Oh I see.  You shouldn't, you know, take everything at face value- I think I've told you that before.  One puts up such defences as seem proper.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Defences- against me?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Well, you see, I'm not very used to young women stopping under my roof, so I'm probably not good at small talk.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'You don't talk to Cleo as if she was slightly half-witted,' said Laura, refusing to be sidetracked, and he put a hand over one of hers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Cleo doesn't need handling with kids gloves,' he said ambiguously 'but I'm sorry if I've made you feel half-witted.  You do, at times, test one's ingenuity rather severely.'&lt;/span&gt; p. 80&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I have no idea how one tests one ingenuity by being half-witted.  but, this does have all the markings of a true love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Here is passage involving Perry and Laura.  I just...well..there...hm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;"'Can you really carry pure spite to these lengths?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Troy did.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'And is Troy to be your criterion for behaviour in all your life?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Ah! Now you're sounds like a prim Miss Prunes-and-prisms again!  You won't feel so smug by tomorrow morning, my girl.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Oh, really, Perry!  I may be young and inexperienced, but I am not ignorant.  I've always understood that rape is virtually impossible unless the victim is partially willing,'  she said, and he looked faintly surprised.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;'Well, that d'you know! Our bread-and-butter miss talking glibly about such sordid things as rape as if it were of no more consequence than stubbing your toe!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'Neither is it, I imagine, if one keeps one's head and remembers to kick,' she retorted, but even as she spoke, she had a mental picture of her Auntie Flo's look of horror at such outspokenness, and felt herself blushing."&lt;/span&gt;  p.172&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Yeah, your dead maiden aunt is why that conversation was wrong.  I hope NOW gets a hold of this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;At last, Cleo and Dominic and Laura and Perry can have it alllll out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;"'Oh, I'm sure you'd be willing to take over Perry's leavings, just as you would have taken over Troy's [ed. she, Cleo, is referring to herself].  What a pity you never seem to be able to make first base.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;He did hit her then, a stinging smack across the cheek with the flat of his hand which sen the blood tingling under her skin, and he stood over her with such dark passion in his face that she shrank back against the cushions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;'I don't apologise for that because it's the only soft of treatment you understand, and you'll doubtless get plenty from Perry if you ever bring him up to scratch,'&lt;/span&gt; he said." p. 179&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Awww what a nice family.  Incidentally, Cleo pissed off when Dominic offered her a bunch of money in exchange for her kid.   And then they lived happily ever after.  As if anyone cared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Did you like your crack?  Was that some tasty crack for you?  Did you like that?  Yeah, me either.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-8533804861243976707?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/8533804861243976707/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=8533804861243976707' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/8533804861243976707'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/8533804861243976707'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2008/08/to-catch-unicorn.html' title='To Catch a Unicorn'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-3382503624008794179</id><published>2008-01-21T15:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T23:46:29.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"With No Reservations"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Leigh &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Michaels&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Well...today's selection is a classic boy meets girl story, with a twist.  First of all, it is romance, so it is girl meets boy, and in this case, it is girl re-meets boy and in a series of re-hashes we learn that initially, girl met boy (who is colleague of her dad), girl flirted with boy, boy dated girl, girl got stupid and imagined a wedding without asking boy about it, boy made overt sexual overtures, girl discussed "saving it for marriage", boy dumped frigid girl, girl moved away to lick wounds, and then we are back at the beginning...with me so far?  So, when girl returns home to run the family hotel with her dad, she bumps back into the boy who offers to help save the family hotel IF, and only if, she does something he wants...namely give it up him.  But, he clarifies, not just random humping, they will get married so that her parents don't suspect anything fishy, but he is free to kick her out at anytime.  How sweet.  They stay together for awhile, but girl flees when she learns that she is pregnant, as boy said he didn't want kids.  Then girl moves away, again, and boy tracks her down, confesses love and learns of the baby and all are happy and loved.  Ya know, that old chestnut.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Oy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.  The lovers herein are named...Lacey Clinton and Damon Kendrick and all this takes place in Kansas City, MI.  A perfect place for romance...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I always get a tingly feeling when these books turn the hilarity on in the first few pages and this little gem was no exception.  Firstly, and I simply couldn't show you all of these examples, she, Lacey, has more dialogue with herself than with any other character in the book.  Perhaps the author intended to show that she is deeply reflective, but she just seems like she has a personality disorder.  And seriously, this started in the second paragraph.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;But the first piece I will share involves Lacey and her mom, Ginny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Ginny looked abstracted. There were two fine lines in the middle of her forehead, Lacey noticed.  They looked like worry lines.  Funny that she hadn't seen them before.  Was it Bill Clinton, or Lacey herself, or something else, that was worrying Ginny?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Okay...first of all...she looked abstracted?  Were her eyes stacked on one side of her face?  Was her mouth a fish?  Actually, as it turns out, that word choice is technically correct; it does mean lost in thought, but no one I know uses that word in that context.  Secondly, Bill Clinton???  What the hell?  As THAT turned out, Bill Clinton was Lacey's dad. But that was the first mention of him, so, how the hell would anyone know that?  Huh? Huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;She was probably just wondering what to serve for dinner tonight to keep up with Elinor's gourmet cooking, Lacey told herself crossly as she reached her office.  And, even if that wasn't it, if you go prying into her thoughts, you're the one being nosy.  Honestly, Lacey, you're starting to see trouble lurking in every corner.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p.11&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;That was like, 2 paragraphs later...she was alone...that was in her own head...the "she" Lacey's brain was referring to is Ginny, her mom.  All I can say is, she is going to make some doctor very happy one day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;He looked around with a shrug. 'Whispering sweet nothings in this crowd would be a sheer waste of time.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I like a man who is practical,' she murmured.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;He grinned at her. "But just give me a chance , and enough quiet to fill a teaspoon---.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 25&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Just, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;oy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.  Incidentally, the "he" in that isn't Damon, it is another &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;doofus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; 'And I am still heartbroken you didn't wait for me David,' Lacey accused, and everyone within hearing distance laughed.  Lacey was grateful that they took it that way; fortunately, she thought, they all believed that the huskiness in her voice was entirely assumed.  The hoarse note startled Lacey herself; she hadn't intended to be quite that theatrical. I'll just have to be more careful, she told herself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 25&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I hate that sneaky husky &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;theatricalness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; that sneaks up on ya.  Ruins the party &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The bellboy lead her to a small alcove in the corner of the lobby, half-hidden behind a marble pillar, and used the key to summon a tiny wood-panelled elevator, just big enough for two people and a narrow, padded bench.  It startled Lacey.  On the wall were just two buttons.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Up and down, that's a safe assumption, she told herself, with a half-hysterical giggle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p.34&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Hahahahaha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; elevators go up and down, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;hahahahahahaoy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'I can't say it surprises me, that's sure.  I should have suspected from the beginning that your views would be just as old-fashioned as your name is.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'It's a perfectly good family name, and it has nothing to do with my moral code.' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Yeah, so, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;ner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;.  The first speaker is Damon and the second is Lacey...in case you were wondering.  Which, let's face it, you weren't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Okay, this next one is a bit of a slog...for the brain I mean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Of course, if you could give us some sort of additional security, or if another bank would agree to share the loan, so First Federal would not have to assume all the risk---'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Lacey managed to smiles and thank him for his time, and she didn't explode until they were safely out of the bank.  Then she slammed both fists against the steering-wheel of her car and stormed, 'Now I know why they call Missouri the Show-me State!...'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 84&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;?  Because the guys who wanted to settle Missouri went to the natives (Indians) who lived there at the time and said "Hey, we want to settle here and we will give you some beads and blankets and stuff." And the chief said "Okay, but SHOW ME first."  And when the dust settled, the head of the settlers remembered that conversation and said "Show-me.  I like it!  We will be the Show-me state and we will demand adequate collateral for all &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;mortgage&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; and loan transactions!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"She stared at his back for a long moment. 'No thank you,' she said stiffly.  'I think I'll go to bed, Damon.  I'm not feeling well.'  From the bedroom door, she added, in a voice heavy with irony, 'I think perhaps the shellfish I had for dinner wasn't quite fresh.' "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; p.165&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Seriously, I read and re-read that passage and the pages before it looking for the irony in bad shellfish and it isn't there.  No shellfish irony.  None.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;He had clearly said, on more than one occasion, that there never would be a child of his in this world.  He had said that as if there was no doubt in his mind, and no reason for further discussion.  She hadn't really questioned why he was so certain; everything had happened so fast.  But she hadn't taken the precaution of going on the Pill.  It just never occurred to her that it might be wise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 167&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Now, this was written in 1990.  And at this point, they had been married for like 2 months.  *sighs*  And of course, she is pregnant.  However, it is all okay, as he touchingly points out in this next passage.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The baby is not a pleasant shock.' he admitted honestly. 'But then it wasn't in your plans, either, was it?  We created this life together; it's up to us to take care of it.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 185&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Wow.  I hope that went in the baby book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;It feels good to be back and making your world just a little more romantic.  I hope you enjoyed that which I hope you agree, was some tasty, tasty crack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-3382503624008794179?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/3382503624008794179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=3382503624008794179' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/3382503624008794179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/3382503624008794179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2008/01/with-no-reservations.html' title='&quot;With No Reservations&quot;'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-8871150235039209904</id><published>2008-01-21T15:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T23:45:57.429-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I stopped blogging about the magnificent books I am lucky enough to read for awhile, thinking that perhaps my sweet tooth was too much for most people.  But, I decided a few cavities never hurt anyone...the journey continues my beloveds!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-8871150235039209904?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/8871150235039209904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=8871150235039209904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/8871150235039209904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/8871150235039209904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-back.html' title='I&apos;m back!'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-4481561649332911699</id><published>2007-03-29T23:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T23:44:58.528-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Intense Involvement"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Jenny Arden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I am lucky (?) enough to read many of my delicious cracky books before I find ones magnificent enough to share with you, my love-junkies.  Some are merely what they are, trite romance; and some, as you are beginning to see, are pure magic.  My latest offering was so magical, I had to dog-ear the first page.  And 22 others.  Seriously.  So, let's dive in shall we?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Elise Sterling is a physio therapist from England (but she is half French) who travels to France to work with her newest client, the recently paralyzed wine mogul, Luc de Rozanieux.  Luc has a "lady friend" who is far more lovely and sophisticated than Elise could ever be and therefore hilarity, I mean tragedy, ensues.  Seriously, the magic starts on page one...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;It was a lovely evening, almost summer, and her crisp cotton dress was a classic shirtwaister.  There was nothing especially striking about it, yet with its collar raised so that the points framed her face and with her hands slipped casually into its side seam pocket she gave it style.  She looked brisk and self-sufficient, her image matching her personality[...]Now, with her emotions as well-ordered as her case notes, she had almost forgotten what it was like to be vulnerable, even if she had not forgotten what it was like to be hurt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So, be careful when you pick your clothes...apparently they say a helluva lot about your personality.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Noting the slightly wary glance Elise gave the powerful Alsatian, he jeered contemptuously, 'I thought you English were supposed to like animals? Nikki, be quiet!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 32&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;That is a very specific ethnic stereotype I wasn't aware of.  See? These books teach!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;As the sparkling wine was poured, Luc's sister announced 'I thought tonight we'd celebrate with some of our special cuvee.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'An idea I heartily approve of,' Claude with a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'Let's hope it won't be wasted on Mademoiselle Sterling,' Luc remarked, a sardonic joke in his voice.  Addressing Elise, he went on, 'As you're English-'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'Half-English,' she reminded him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    His mouth quirked ironically as he conceded the point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'But in any event,' he said 'better qualifed, I imagine, to give me your opinion of a cup of Darjeeling tea than a glass of the chateau's wine.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p.35&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Again with the predjudce.  This guy isn't an "alpha male", he is just an ass.  The next 4 paragraphs are the authors belabored attempt to show that she took a wine tasting class once, including the phrase "hallmark of the best sparkling wines".  So, write what you know, or take a class and throw around a bunch of crap.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;She turned on the bath taps and, noticing the botle of Paco Rabanne Pour Homme [For Men ed.] bath essence among his toiletries, she added some of it to the water.  Its fragrance was sharp and bracing, and she critically sniffed at the bottle, her nose crinkling.  Concentrated, the bath essence was still more pungent and masculine.  It was exactly the fragrance that Luc would choose, she thought drily.  Everything about the man was too damn dominant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 51&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Oh the sexy dominant scent of Man bubble bath!  What a hunk!  And there does seem an alarming excess of commas being used throughout.  I tried to count them, but I got up to 65 by page 15 or so and gave up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;The conversation between them gave no indication of tension as Elise massaged his shoulders with knowing hands.  But as always it required the sternest effort of will for her to ignore the virility that was stamped in every line of his hard man's body.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 112&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'nuff said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Now, get out the hankies...this one is went he first confesses his love.  And no, he hasn't stopped being an asshole, or her being a moron.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Knowing that she was crying, in pure desperation Elise snatched herself free.  Luc made a grab for her but was too late, and she began to run along the moving train towards her carriage door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Come back here you little fool!' Luc shouted after her furiously. 'Haven't you realized yet....? I love you!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    She reached up to catch hold of the side of the door and jumped aboard.  Tears streaming down her face, and, trembling, she turned to see that Luc had broken into a limping run.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 178&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Yep.  An "I love you" as someone is jumping on a French train.  Wow.  Oh and an insult.  Oh and a crip learning to run again.  A me...l'amour!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So, of course, they get their shit together eventually.  But I wanted to share the last line of the book and inspire some lovin' at your homes...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Her mind whirled for and instant as she thought of the future that lay ahead, of everything they would share in their intense [hateful ed.], tempestuous [bitter ed.] relationship, and then it came back to tonight, a whole long glorious night of love and passion, the forerunner of countless  such nights.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 189&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Know what that is?  Mmhmm good crack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-4481561649332911699?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/4481561649332911699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=4481561649332911699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/4481561649332911699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/4481561649332911699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2007/03/intense-involvement.html' title='&quot;Intense Involvement&quot;'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-1194935282961033383</id><published>2007-03-08T11:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T13:43:01.841-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"The Morning After"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Dorie Graham&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So...this one is quite something.  Because I scavenge these books from thrifts and used stores, I sometimes can't find the series I like and this one is from my second favorite collection "Blaze".  They are "sexier"...less euphemisitc, not completely frank, but...more realistic.  Theoretically. And then I read this...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Our couple is Dylan Cain and Nikki McClellan; Dylan is troubled and Nikki is magical.  Magical is perhaps a little harsh.  She is "gifted", as are her sister and mother and aunt, with the ability to heal men.  Sexually.  Yes, she has sexual healing.  I will give you a few minutes to get that song deep in your head.  But this gift has a downside.  Once her men are healed, they leave her.  Usually, they are gone by morning.  That is one powerful pussy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;And then she meets Dylan.  Whose house she is buying.  And who has troubles.  His fiancee died in a horrible car crash one dark and stormy night.  Sounds like he is a good patient for sexual healin to me!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Obviously, a plot this serious is going to have some deliciousness in it...and boy does Dorie deliver.  This first passage I am quoting directly.  You aren't missing anything.  Nikki is visiting his house, which she is buying.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; 'But I'd love to the see the gardens again.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    He nodded and took her hand 'This way then.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    His grip was firm and strong.  Walking hand in hand with him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; (ed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Like one does when one is buying a house from someone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;as they strolled the stone path circumventing the far flower garden felt oddly right.  He pointed out various flowers, but her pulse throbbed in her ears, making it difficult to hear him.  His mouth was beautiful to watch as he formed each sensuous syllable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    What would it be like to kiss him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'Don't you think?' He looked at her expectantly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    She bobbed her head in a half nod.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'I had a friend who didn't think so, but I know it'll hold two comfortably.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p.50&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;What the hell?  It turns out, in like 5 lines, it was a hammock.  That's good writing...make people wonder and keep on readin'.  And about 3 pages later, they are going at it.  Because of the healing though, not because she is a slut or he is a jerk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;She suckled him&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; (ed. His "man nipples") &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;while he fisted her hair and tried to breathe, the pleasure almost too intense to bear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p. 55&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Now, I ain't no Dan Savage, but that isn't what fisting is as far as I was aware.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; This next one is a longish one.  She has decided to reveal herself to him after some argument broke them up.  And ohhh the hilarity.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"`I'll tell you something that might be hard to believe.  It was my gift-to bring you healing through my touch.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    He cocked his head.  Curiosity mixed with his surprise.  'Seriously?' &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'I wish it weren't so.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; (ed. Me too)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;   '&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Why?'    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'I was born into it.  It wasn't my choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; (ed. Like being gay or a vampire)'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;'Okay...' He leaned toward her.  His acceptance was almost as ready as Tess' had been.  It flowed out to her in a comfort wave. 'So you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;are &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;some kind of...enchantress.  That's why I always feel at peace when I'm with you but the torment is tenfold when you're away. You &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;have&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; bewitched me.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'I'm not an enchantress&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; (ed. Noo, that would be silly).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;But I am a healer, and your resistance is what brings your torment.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'A healer? You heal with your touch?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    "Specifically through my lovemaking.  Go ahead and laugh. It does sound ridiculous.  I found it hard to believe myself.  I still have my own issues with it.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'You mean sexual healing?  I don't find it laughable at all.  In fact, I'm not at all surprised.  You&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt; do&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;have a healing touch. I felt it when we first shook hands.  I could feel your magic even then.  I've felt it when I've been with you ever since.'  He blew out a breath. 'Is that why I can't stay away from you?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;    'As I understand it, when you resist the healing, it makes the parting harder.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" p.215-6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Well, he sure took that well.  Talk about a non-event.  Sorry, but if someone tells me they have a magical hootchie...I am going to react!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I didn't quote anything from the part in the middle when Nikki and her sisters "learn" about their craft from their mom, because, frankly, I would have need to out in entire chapters...but if you are curious, this book can still be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);" href="http://www.amazon.com/Morning-After-Harlequin-Blaze/dp/037379200X/ref=pd_bbs_6/002-7880847-3182458?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1175114283&amp;sr=8-6"&gt;yours.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Anyway, they end up together.  Of course they do, they all do.  But imagine having to decide to give up such a wonderful gift for one man?  Talk about Sophie's choice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Say it with me...Mmmmm that's good crack!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-1194935282961033383?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/1194935282961033383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=1194935282961033383' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/1194935282961033383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/1194935282961033383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2007/03/morning-after.html' title='&quot;The Morning After&quot;'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-3591847975625805481</id><published>2007-02-22T23:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-24T16:36:59.124-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Glass Slippers and Unicorns"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Carole Mortimer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Yes, that really is the title.  Already this book rocks.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So...I will largely be dealing with Harlequin as the publishers, since they are my favorite.  They publish under several different "umbrellas" (see the details &lt;a href="http://http//store.eharlequin.com/t7_view_imprint.jhtml?CATID=2"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; if you want) and each one deals with the subject matter in a slightly different way.  I tend to prefer the "Harlequin Presents" collection, because they are the most...magnificent.  I'll let them explain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Harlequin Presents line offers the ultimate in emotional and sensual excitement!      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;Although grounded in reality and reflective of contemporary, relevant trends, these fast-paced stories are essentially escapist romantic fantasies that take the reader on an emotional roller-coaster ride. Written in the third person, they can be from the male or female point of view, or seen through the eyes of both protagonists. All are set in sophisticated, glamorous, international locations. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;With its focus on strong, wealthy, breathtakingly charismatic alpha-heroes who are tamed by spirited, independent heroines, the central relationship in a Presents novel is a provocatively passionate, highly charged affair, driven by conflict, emotional intensity and overwhelming physical attraction, which may include explicit lovemaking.&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;a href="http://eharlequin.com/"&gt;eharlequin.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;This means...rich guys in exotic places (usually England, Italy or Greece) with average, yet stunning, women.  And yes, the girls, like the Mounties, always get their man.  Mmm that's good crack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;This one is in England.  And here is how you can tell; the main characters are named Reed Hunter and Darcy Faversham (Darcy is the girl).  Reed is arrogant.  We know this because the author tells us so. 12 times.  In 188 pages.  That is a loooot of arrogant.  Another Reed fun fact...he collects unicorns.  The alpha-hero collects unicorns.  Collective Awwwwwwwwwwwwww.  Oy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Allow me to share a few beautiful moments with Darcy and Reed.  And please believe me when I tell you, I could just retype the whole book here but I am being selective.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He paced the room with long legs, his movements not made with their usual fluidity, but with spasmodic energy.&lt;/span&gt;"  p. 7&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;No.  Really.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Darcy was sure the colour in her cheeks was going to remain a permanent fixture as Reed seemed intent on recalling all the stupid things she had done since the moment they had met so awkwardly&lt;/span&gt;"  p. 12&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The fact that she took two spoonfuls of sugar in her coffee and drank the brew constantly had become a standing joke between them during the months she had worked for him, his own coffee always taken black and unsweetened, although he rarely drank it.  But Darcy didn't feel much like laughing at the moment.&lt;/span&gt;" p. 49&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Okay, this one is long but it must be shared.  Reed and Darcy are in Florida, visiting his family, who Darcy is meeting for the first time.  This is how she breaks the ice with the family.  Remember, this author is a Brit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;" '&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You're worse!' Reed amended indulgently, relaxing slightly. 'It's like walking into a scene from the Waltons!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    'And which part do you play?' Linda&lt;/span&gt; [ed. One of Reed's sisters] &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;drawled. 'Pa?'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;    'Over you lot?' Reed returned without rancour. 'Never!  But you have to admit Darcy has the hair and freckles to play Elizabeth!'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    Darcy felt very self-conscious as they all turned to look at the riotous red curls covering her head, even tighter than they usually were as they were allowed to dry naturally after her swim.  As for the freckles, they could never be doubted!&lt;/span&gt; [ed. Doubted?? What claims were the freckles making??]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;    She was familiar with the television programme about the large Walton family set during the ninteen-thirties and forties, and she didn't think she liked being compared to the carrot-haired&lt;/span&gt; [ed. CARROTS? Oh c'mon!] &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;girl with&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the sinus problem that played the part of the youngest&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;member&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;of the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;family.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102); font-style: italic;"&gt;    'The programme never seemed to be the same to me after John-Boy grew a foot from one series to the next!' she said drily, alluding to the fact that the first actor to play the oldest son in the series had decided to leave and his replacement had topped him by at least  a foot- even if he did have the original man's blond hair and mole on his cheek!" p. 70&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;There was more Walton talk, but you get the idea.  Why, in the middle of an all consuming, passionate (allegedly) romance novel would an author take a weird American t.v. break wherein she compared her lovers relationship to a Father/daughter relationship in an old t.v. show? And frankly, disturbing aside, it isn't even a flattering comparison.&lt;br /&gt;Rest assured my love-junkies, all the tension and bad stuff melts away in a matter of two conversations and they live happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Believe it or not, you will see this authors name fairly frequently on here.  &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Glass-Slippers-Unicorns-Harlequin-Presents/dp/0373109393/sr=8-2/qid=1172306232/ref=sr_1_2/002-7112647-6162467?ie=UTF8&amp;s=books"&gt;She is very prolific and a fan favorite. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Say it with me now...mmmmmmm that's good crack!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-3591847975625805481?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/3591847975625805481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=3591847975625805481' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/3591847975625805481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/3591847975625805481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2007/02/glass-slippers-and-unicorns.html' title='&quot;Glass Slippers and Unicorns&quot;'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6730876143111741378.post-5391203829069019607</id><published>2007-02-22T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T14:50:51.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Dirty Secret</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;So, this is it.  My secret shame.  I read romance novels.  Wait, it gets worse...I only read serial romance...Yep...Harlequin type books.  In fact, they are one of my favorites.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Allow me to clarify a few things.  I know it is wrong.  I don't buy them full price.  I DO read other books.  I don't use them as a bizarre and upsetting substitute for porn.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;But the thing is...they are funny as hell.  Some are well written and clever.  Most aren't.  And the ones that aren't...tend to be pretty spectacular.  And I want to share them with you.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;As one website my Beloved reads says, "I'll read them, so you don't have to..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;I will share fantastic plots, wonderful character names, truly outstanding "phraseology"...And no need to thank me...You are so very welcome.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;All of these will be direct quotes, so please, cross your fingers I don't get sued.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);"&gt;Enjoy!  Or at least, try not to firebomb me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6730876143111741378-5391203829069019607?l=shellswickpresents.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/feeds/5391203829069019607/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6730876143111741378&amp;postID=5391203829069019607' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/5391203829069019607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6730876143111741378/posts/default/5391203829069019607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellswickpresents.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-dirty-secret.html' title='My Dirty Secret'/><author><name>shellswick</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01913034544912211301</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
