The Romance Novel: Enjoying the Really Bad Ones

     Novels that are entertainingly bad are rare. To be creatively awful a work of fiction must be riveting in its stupidity, include hilarious syntax, and be breathtakingly overwrought. One source of such books are romance novels writte…

     Novels that are entertainingly bad are rare. To be creatively awful a work of fiction must be riveting in its stupidity, include hilarious syntax, and be breathtakingly overwrought. One source of such books are romance novels written by profoundly untalented people gifted with the lack of insight into their literary incompetence. Such deliciously horrible writing can be occasionally found in self-published novels or works produced by vanity presses.

     What follows are excerpts from a romance novel written by a prolific author whose identity is not revealed. I've changed characters' names to conceal the identify of this uniquely bad but hilarious piece of writing. The novel is long out of print and I doubt even its author would recognize the following quotes:

Quotes

 "Welcome to your humble abode," a hooded intruder said with a trace of Spanish accent. He was sitting in a chair, facing the door with a revolver in his hand. Dressed casually, he could have been mistaken for a tourist, except for the black hood with holes cut out for the eyes, nose and mouth.

 He barely heard her, his Latin blood boiling and his loins already igniting.

Everyone's face dropped to the ground.

Paul groaned and Jane echoed him. "Oh crap!" she vociferated, causing him to chuckle.

She felt so alone, so energized, and a tiny bit embarrassed as the mental flames of fire overtook her faculties.

If only just one of them could have foreseen the future, the unforeseen might have been averted.

Merely thinking about the possibilities kindled a spark that fanned into a blaze, sweeping through his lower extremities.

However, at the present, her head was in the clouds and her libido was vibrating on a high frequency.

Once inside, Todd made his way to the refrigerator and started pulling out foodstuffs.

"Good luck," came the acrimonious response as Jim waved himself out of the office.

When he returned, Janice was standing in the kitchen whipping up eggs, toast, fruit and coffee.

Nancy stood there wide-eyed, her hand clutching her heart and holding her breath.

The shadowy snake character was such a chameleon that no law agency in the world had a picture of this guy. He was a true master of disguise and slippery as a reptile. He could just slither away into a crowd and change his facade within seconds.

As his nimble fingers toyed with one opulent breast, and then the other, she floated into the land of utopia, never dreaming that making love could be so utterly resplendent.

She wore a Spanish bolero blouse over a pair of loose, pleated slacks, an obvious invitation for debauchery.

Transferring his seed to her was like the dramatization of a celestial awakening, bonding them together for eternal life.

They lay a long time copying each other's facades to memory....

As his lips moved down to her bloated nipples, she responded with intense ardor, courageously searching for his manhood. Would he have to leave the priesthood?    

from http://jimfishertruecrime.blogspot.com/