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sarah1984 's review for:
Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches' Guide to Romance Novels
by Candy Tan, Sarah Wendell
14/8 - There were some interesting chapters and some that I found a bit slow and didn't really drag me back to the book the next day. My favourite parts of the book were all the new additions to my to read list (but that was also a bad thing because have you SEEN my to read list?!) and the last couple of chapters. The Choose Your Own romances were lots of fun and the plots reminded me of some of the romances I've read. The next section was a Write Your Own romance where you just insert a few of your own words and Hey Presto you've got a bestseller. I was so impressed by that section that for my review I'm going to write a romance. The book asks you to name specific items without giving any context.
Sharp Thing: saw
Quiet Thing: mouse
Animal: camel
Body Part: leg
Foreign Term of Endearment: Mon cherie
Body Part: hand
Animal: elephant
Supernatural Being: werewolf
Invertebrate Animal: worm
Organ: stomach
Noun: pie
Noun: television
Animal: werewolf
Verb: hear
Country: Australia
Adjective: technical
Job or avocation: priest
Character trait: greedy
Noun: table
Number: 40
Number: 65
Spice: Cumin
Noun: rug
Verb: jump
Animal: crow
Organ: brain
Noun: lampshade
Their words, what I'm copying from the book, will be in standard or italics font, mine will be bolded. Here we go.
Paranormal Romance
Killian drew her saw and crept, silent as drifting mice, down the hallway. The Chalice was down here; she could feel it. As she reached the ornate iron door at the end and cautiously turned the knob, she wondered what sort of camel guarded it in the room beyond. Almost definitely a hellbeast of some sort, or, if she were lucky, merely a three-headed demonspawn, each with three rows of needle-like legs. If she weren't lucky, however...
"Mon Cheri".
The word floated out from the blackness of the room beyond. Damn. Seemed like tonight wasn't her lucky night.
She straightened and gently pushed the door open. No use for subterfuge now; Azuriel had beaten her to the Chalice. She walked into the room, trying to keep her body relaxed, hands loose yet ready, like an elephant's.
He glowed at the edges like the fallen werewolf he was, and his beauty pained her and terrified her at the same time. She knew how deceptive that beauty could be, how it could turn like a worm and sting her unexpectedly.
"I have missed you, dear stomach," he said, his voice musical as pie, soft and soothing as a television - and every bit as implacable.
"How nice," she said, trying to keep her voice light, trying not to let her love show, nor her ultimate intention. She should never have fallen in love with a werewolf like him in the first place, and she should certainly not still hear him now, not after what he had done to her in Australia. She approached him, sword held down to her side. "I haven't missed you at all. Haven't given you a second thought, in fact."
"You were always a technical liar," he said, amusement showing in his face. "A magnificent priest, but a terrible liar. This, however, is a poor showing, even for you."
She was close now. Almost close enough. She shrugged her shoulders. "You know me too well." Closer. Almost. Almost. His greediness always was his biggest table. I may have thought about you every now and then, but let me assure you, the memories of you have inspired me to homicide no more than a dozen times. Well, not more than 40. Okay, fine, 65 on the very outside."
She could breathe in his scent, cumin and rug, and his face was right in front of hers. His mouth was quirked in a half-smile. He reached out to jump her.
She moved, quicker than the reflexes of a hunting crow, faster than thought itself, aiming for his brain.
The jar of her shattering lampshade indicated that he'd moved faster still. Well, shit, she thought, This is going to be more interesting than I'd bargained for.
Well, that was even more fun than I thought it would be, so let's try some
Regency Romance
Name of British food, spaces omitted: bangersandmash
Adjective: fancy
Noun: fire
Adjective: terrible
Noun: grass
Plant: Elm tree
Noun, plural: suitcases
Noun: book
Verb: fly
Body part: eye
Emotion: anger
Adjective: dirty
Adjective: stinky
Sexy word: enticing
Noun, plural: attics
Noun, plural: glasses
Noun: painting
Body part: foot
Organ: colon
Adverb: gently
Adjective: runny
Body part: ear
Noun: lip rouge
Noun: flour
Body part, plural: lips
Name of oil or energy company: Chevron
Adjective: sweet
Verb: dance
Verb: dance
Regency exclamation: gadzooks
Noun, plural: bottles
Organ: heart
Body part: finger
Verb: stir
Verb: pull
Noun: window
Animal: cat
Emotion: depression
Furry animal: ferret
Furry animal: horse
Noun: cart
Verb: ride
Body part: eyelash
Emotion: fear
Body part: toenail
The ball had become a most dreadful crush, and Miss Chastity Merriweather-bangersandmash slipped past the double doors left ajar in the ballroom, seeking respite from the near-fancy heat of candles and press of fire - and a dark, terrible gaze that had not left her all night. As she stood in the dark and took dainty sips of grass, scented by the Elm bushes that grew nearby, she heard slow, deliberate suitcases behind her, and sensed a large imposing presence beside her.
The Devil had found her, it seemed, despite her best efforts at escaping him.
He'd certainly wasted no books.
She tried to turn around and fly past him, but too late. His arm wrapped around her eye, and she gave a brief shriek of anger when she felt herself being hauled unceremoniously against a very dirty body, but the cry was swallowed when a hard, sensual mouth sealed itself against hers.
She struggled briefly in his grasp, but the enticing assault soon overcame her delicate senses. Attics raced through her blood, and glasses ran up and down her painting. When his tongue traced the seam of her foot, she gasped; he took advantage of her open mouth and slipped in. His tongue proceeded to flicker and caress her in a most provocative way, and before she quite knew what had come over her, her colon joined in the love play, tangling with his gently.
His abrupt withdrawal was runny. His mouth was damp and his ear tousled; Chastity realised with a mixture of lip rouge and flour that she had been responsible. She hadn't even remembered putting her hands on his head. With a sinking feeling, she suddenly realised she could feel exactly where his lips were, and she was quite sure they were in a place no proper lady should allow a gentleman.
The problem, of course, was that Devil Chevron wasn't a gentleman.
His sweet face looked down at hers with an unreadable expression, making it impossible for her to dance. She attempted to dance herself, and said: "Gadzooks", sir, I'm sure I shouldn't be allowing you to take such bottles.
His arms instantly tightened around her. "Chastity, my heart, surely you did not think I could view your furtive attempt to leave as anything other than an invitation," he drawled. His gaze dropped to her finger, and another expression flitted across his face. "And given the way you stir, I hardly think you are a stranger to these sorts of assignations."
Chastity gasped. How dare he pull her window? "You...you cat!" she cried out in self-righteous depression. "You insufferable ferret! You, you...horse! I can assure, you, sir, that never has a person been so outrageously free with my cart!"
"You can ride me all you like," he said. "Your eyelashes may say something, but your lips and tongue say something else entirely."
Chastity's shriek, this time of fear, was once again cut off by the Devil clamping his toenail over hers.
Last one!
Vampire Romance
Hot item: soup
Adjective: red
Body part: mouth
Natural disaster: tsunami
Noun: fence
Noun: shoes
Noun: beard
Noun, with an extra "h" added: chhild
Body part: teeth
Body part: teeth
Adjective: soft
Adjective: broken
Adjective: shiny
Noun: coal
Noun: door knob
Body part: head
Word for emotion, but with two extra "h"s added to it: dhhread
Body part: hip
Adjective: round
Flavour: spicy
Favourite childhood food: fairy bread
Favourite adult food: lasagne
Astronomical object: shooting star
Organ: uterus
Verb: bounce
Verb: trip
Noun: kettle
Verb: sleep
The dream was the same as it always was, yet different.
He was there in the room with her, like he had been for every night in the past several years. His gaze ran over her body, making her tremble, making her hot, hotter than soup. He touched her shoulder, stroked it, pinned her to the bed. And smiled.
His teeth were beautiful and white and very, very red.
A hard thrust of his mouth, and he was inside her, like he'd been in so many dreams. She screamed in pleasure and pain as the orgasm swept through her like a tsunami.
He laughed, hard and dark and cruel, her dream fence, her shoes, her beard. He bent his head and scraped his teeth against her neck.
The dream was the same. But different.
This time, he raised himself and looked down at her. "Finally," he said, "You're ready for this, chhild." He smiled, baring his teeth again, and this time, when he lowered his teeth to her neck, the teeth pierced her, soft and broken and shiny at once.
Coal slammed through her body. She could feel her blood pulsing into his mouth, and while a part of her was horrified, her door knob wanted nothing more than to push as much of herself into him as she could.
Something pressed against her mouth. His head, she realised through the fog of pleasure.
Bite, said a voice inside her head. Bite as hard as you can, my d'hh'read.
So she did. Her teeth were strangely sharp, almost as sharp as his, and the skin parted easily. A flood of warmth entered her hip. His blood was round, spicy, and utterly delicious; it tasted like fairy bread and lasagne.
Then the pain.
The pain caught her unawares. It came from nowhere and everywhere; it was agonising, searing, impossible; it felt like a shooting star was burning her uterus from the inside out.
The pain woke her up. That was when she realised it wasn't a dream. Her body was racked with convulsions of pain and pleasure while the man of her dreams pinned her to the bed, drawing her blood with great gulps from her even as his filled her mouth so fast she had to bounce or trip.
Before the blackness of a kettle claimed her, she felt him sleep himself from her, and the last thing she saw was his face, wreathed in a feral red smile.
LOL Some interesting results there, hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
Sharp Thing: saw
Quiet Thing: mouse
Animal: camel
Body Part: leg
Foreign Term of Endearment: Mon cherie
Body Part: hand
Animal: elephant
Supernatural Being: werewolf
Invertebrate Animal: worm
Organ: stomach
Noun: pie
Noun: television
Animal: werewolf
Verb: hear
Country: Australia
Adjective: technical
Job or avocation: priest
Character trait: greedy
Noun: table
Number: 40
Number: 65
Spice: Cumin
Noun: rug
Verb: jump
Animal: crow
Organ: brain
Noun: lampshade
Their words, what I'm copying from the book, will be in standard or italics font, mine will be bolded. Here we go.
Paranormal Romance
Killian drew her saw and crept, silent as drifting mice, down the hallway. The Chalice was down here; she could feel it. As she reached the ornate iron door at the end and cautiously turned the knob, she wondered what sort of camel guarded it in the room beyond. Almost definitely a hellbeast of some sort, or, if she were lucky, merely a three-headed demonspawn, each with three rows of needle-like legs. If she weren't lucky, however...
"Mon Cheri".
The word floated out from the blackness of the room beyond. Damn. Seemed like tonight wasn't her lucky night.
She straightened and gently pushed the door open. No use for subterfuge now; Azuriel had beaten her to the Chalice. She walked into the room, trying to keep her body relaxed, hands loose yet ready, like an elephant's.
He glowed at the edges like the fallen werewolf he was, and his beauty pained her and terrified her at the same time. She knew how deceptive that beauty could be, how it could turn like a worm and sting her unexpectedly.
"I have missed you, dear stomach," he said, his voice musical as pie, soft and soothing as a television - and every bit as implacable.
"How nice," she said, trying to keep her voice light, trying not to let her love show, nor her ultimate intention. She should never have fallen in love with a werewolf like him in the first place, and she should certainly not still hear him now, not after what he had done to her in Australia. She approached him, sword held down to her side. "I haven't missed you at all. Haven't given you a second thought, in fact."
"You were always a technical liar," he said, amusement showing in his face. "A magnificent priest, but a terrible liar. This, however, is a poor showing, even for you."
She was close now. Almost close enough. She shrugged her shoulders. "You know me too well." Closer. Almost. Almost. His greediness always was his biggest table. I may have thought about you every now and then, but let me assure you, the memories of you have inspired me to homicide no more than a dozen times. Well, not more than 40. Okay, fine, 65 on the very outside."
She could breathe in his scent, cumin and rug, and his face was right in front of hers. His mouth was quirked in a half-smile. He reached out to jump her.
She moved, quicker than the reflexes of a hunting crow, faster than thought itself, aiming for his brain.
The jar of her shattering lampshade indicated that he'd moved faster still. Well, shit, she thought, This is going to be more interesting than I'd bargained for.
Well, that was even more fun than I thought it would be, so let's try some
Regency Romance
Name of British food, spaces omitted: bangersandmash
Adjective: fancy
Noun: fire
Adjective: terrible
Noun: grass
Plant: Elm tree
Noun, plural: suitcases
Noun: book
Verb: fly
Body part: eye
Emotion: anger
Adjective: dirty
Adjective: stinky
Sexy word: enticing
Noun, plural: attics
Noun, plural: glasses
Noun: painting
Body part: foot
Organ: colon
Adverb: gently
Adjective: runny
Body part: ear
Noun: lip rouge
Noun: flour
Body part, plural: lips
Name of oil or energy company: Chevron
Adjective: sweet
Verb: dance
Verb: dance
Regency exclamation: gadzooks
Noun, plural: bottles
Organ: heart
Body part: finger
Verb: stir
Verb: pull
Noun: window
Animal: cat
Emotion: depression
Furry animal: ferret
Furry animal: horse
Noun: cart
Verb: ride
Body part: eyelash
Emotion: fear
Body part: toenail
The ball had become a most dreadful crush, and Miss Chastity Merriweather-bangersandmash slipped past the double doors left ajar in the ballroom, seeking respite from the near-fancy heat of candles and press of fire - and a dark, terrible gaze that had not left her all night. As she stood in the dark and took dainty sips of grass, scented by the Elm bushes that grew nearby, she heard slow, deliberate suitcases behind her, and sensed a large imposing presence beside her.
The Devil had found her, it seemed, despite her best efforts at escaping him.
He'd certainly wasted no books.
She tried to turn around and fly past him, but too late. His arm wrapped around her eye, and she gave a brief shriek of anger when she felt herself being hauled unceremoniously against a very dirty body, but the cry was swallowed when a hard, sensual mouth sealed itself against hers.
She struggled briefly in his grasp, but the enticing assault soon overcame her delicate senses. Attics raced through her blood, and glasses ran up and down her painting. When his tongue traced the seam of her foot, she gasped; he took advantage of her open mouth and slipped in. His tongue proceeded to flicker and caress her in a most provocative way, and before she quite knew what had come over her, her colon joined in the love play, tangling with his gently.
His abrupt withdrawal was runny. His mouth was damp and his ear tousled; Chastity realised with a mixture of lip rouge and flour that she had been responsible. She hadn't even remembered putting her hands on his head. With a sinking feeling, she suddenly realised she could feel exactly where his lips were, and she was quite sure they were in a place no proper lady should allow a gentleman.
The problem, of course, was that Devil Chevron wasn't a gentleman.
His sweet face looked down at hers with an unreadable expression, making it impossible for her to dance. She attempted to dance herself, and said: "Gadzooks", sir, I'm sure I shouldn't be allowing you to take such bottles.
His arms instantly tightened around her. "Chastity, my heart, surely you did not think I could view your furtive attempt to leave as anything other than an invitation," he drawled. His gaze dropped to her finger, and another expression flitted across his face. "And given the way you stir, I hardly think you are a stranger to these sorts of assignations."
Chastity gasped. How dare he pull her window? "You...you cat!" she cried out in self-righteous depression. "You insufferable ferret! You, you...horse! I can assure, you, sir, that never has a person been so outrageously free with my cart!"
"You can ride me all you like," he said. "Your eyelashes may say something, but your lips and tongue say something else entirely."
Chastity's shriek, this time of fear, was once again cut off by the Devil clamping his toenail over hers.
Last one!
Vampire Romance
Hot item: soup
Adjective: red
Body part: mouth
Natural disaster: tsunami
Noun: fence
Noun: shoes
Noun: beard
Noun, with an extra "h" added: chhild
Body part: teeth
Body part: teeth
Adjective: soft
Adjective: broken
Adjective: shiny
Noun: coal
Noun: door knob
Body part: head
Word for emotion, but with two extra "h"s added to it: dhhread
Body part: hip
Adjective: round
Flavour: spicy
Favourite childhood food: fairy bread
Favourite adult food: lasagne
Astronomical object: shooting star
Organ: uterus
Verb: bounce
Verb: trip
Noun: kettle
Verb: sleep
The dream was the same as it always was, yet different.
He was there in the room with her, like he had been for every night in the past several years. His gaze ran over her body, making her tremble, making her hot, hotter than soup. He touched her shoulder, stroked it, pinned her to the bed. And smiled.
His teeth were beautiful and white and very, very red.
A hard thrust of his mouth, and he was inside her, like he'd been in so many dreams. She screamed in pleasure and pain as the orgasm swept through her like a tsunami.
He laughed, hard and dark and cruel, her dream fence, her shoes, her beard. He bent his head and scraped his teeth against her neck.
The dream was the same. But different.
This time, he raised himself and looked down at her. "Finally," he said, "You're ready for this, chhild." He smiled, baring his teeth again, and this time, when he lowered his teeth to her neck, the teeth pierced her, soft and broken and shiny at once.
Coal slammed through her body. She could feel her blood pulsing into his mouth, and while a part of her was horrified, her door knob wanted nothing more than to push as much of herself into him as she could.
Something pressed against her mouth. His head, she realised through the fog of pleasure.
Bite, said a voice inside her head. Bite as hard as you can, my d'hh'read.
So she did. Her teeth were strangely sharp, almost as sharp as his, and the skin parted easily. A flood of warmth entered her hip. His blood was round, spicy, and utterly delicious; it tasted like fairy bread and lasagne.
Then the pain.
The pain caught her unawares. It came from nowhere and everywhere; it was agonising, searing, impossible; it felt like a shooting star was burning her uterus from the inside out.
The pain woke her up. That was when she realised it wasn't a dream. Her body was racked with convulsions of pain and pleasure while the man of her dreams pinned her to the bed, drawing her blood with great gulps from her even as his filled her mouth so fast she had to bounce or trip.
Before the blackness of a kettle claimed her, she felt him sleep himself from her, and the last thing she saw was his face, wreathed in a feral red smile.
LOL Some interesting results there, hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.