A Bad Romance

I heart romance novels.

Ever since I was 12, I’ve been sneaking Harlequins from the library.  I devoured the passionate affairs of young English misses, stubborn Scottish wenches, dashing pirates, and handsome — but terribly tortured — Civil War soldiers.  I swooned when they kissed.  I sighed when they did the dirty. And I too wanted an epic romance of my own. Preferably with someone who looked like Fabio and wore a ruffled shirt buttoned down to there.

But as much as I adore romance novels, I can’t deny that I have trashy taste in literature.  In lieu of War and Peace,  I read Lady Sophia’s Lover.

And I’m okay with that. I love every cheesy line and every soft-core porn cover. Which is why I’ve decided to openly confess my adoration and devote time to this craptastically written genre of literature.  I’ll be reviewing every awful romance novel I can get my hands on.

So stick around and read on for heaving bosoms, plot holes, and my intense love of male jawlines. I’m not kidding.


About The Countess

A strong-willed harlot that enjoys reading romance novel, sipping port, and gallivanting with the brawny stable boy (scandalous!).
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