It’s GUEST AUTHOR DAY at The Good, the Bad, and the Unread. Come, talk fangirl, pantsing, get an extended sneak peek at Colin’s story — and comment for a chance to win a copy of DEMON ANGEL or an ARC of my June release, DEMON MOON. And Missy’s coming out to play … just a little.

And I was late getting stuff to her so if you go and it’s not up yet … it will be soon.

MISSY: I hate you.
MELJEAN: What? What do you want me to do? You, my precious inner/former child, should learn to like the closet a bit better.
MISSY: Die.
MELJEAN: If I do that, then you’ll never see how Tender Rebel turns out.
MISSY: It’s a romance, they end up happily-ever-after.
MELJEAN: Oh, dear Missy. But you haven’t gotten to the chair scene yet.
MISSY: What chair scene?
MELJEAN: Now where did we leave off?
MISSY: Anthony kissed Roslynn, and the horrid yucky James had just given up his pursuit of her. What chair scene?!
MELJEAN: Ah, yes, that be it. Just for posterity’s sake, let’s show that cover again, in which the aforementioned leaving-off scene is depicted:

MELJEAN: Well.
MISSY: Yeah.
MELJEAN: Here we are. (awkwardly stubs toe in dirt)
MISSY: Yeah.
MELJEAN: …c’mon, now, you can’t hold this against me! I was really busy!
MISSY: Uh-huh.
MELJEAN: I wrote an effing book, you little twerp!
MISSY: Oh, you say that like it’s a big deal. Fatty.
MELJEAN: *sob*
MISSY: While Meljean sobs, I’ll recap.

MELJEAN: So, here you publish the conclusion to your alien action figure story.
MISSY: That’s right! I’m so excited. It was lots of fun.
MELJEAN: Well. Okay. Let’s see it then.

MELJEAN: Hopefully, next they’ll get naked.
MISSY: Stop your dirty talk!

MELJEAN: Hey, Missy! Wanna come out of the closet?
MISSY: Yay! Ooooh, what’s all this?
MELJEAN: Your sister and niece took some pictures at home — and when they came up for a visit, they showed them to me. I thought you might have fun telling a story with them.
MISSY: Whoo hoo! Thanks!

MELJEAN: Did you intentionally censor her giant tits?
MISSY: What? God, you’re talking already? Shut up and enjoy the story!
MELJEAN: Meee-ow!

MISSY: Ha ha! I did it! When stupid Meljean opened up the closet door looking for spiders to smash, I bonked her in the head with a boot! I’m free! I’m free!
MELJEAN: **groan** …no…time…for you…must…write…
MISSY: Shut up! I’ll kick you in the face, you meanie! I can’t believe you wrote a thing about hating long hair. I LOVE long hair on men — especially Indians! One day, I’m going to marry an Indian and live wild and free in a teepee, and eat jerky all the time and ride mustangs, and dance around naked, until my husband rips off his loincloth and has his savage way with me under the stars! Preferably, my husband will be Wind-In-His-Hair from DANCES WITH WOLVES. He’s soooo cute. Way cuter than any of the boys in my class, except maybe Clint Johnson, but he likes Amanda.
MELJEAN: In the next movie you see him in, Wind-In-His-Hair is fat.
MISSY: I hate you! Why do you destroy all of my dreams?
MELJEAN: Tee hee.
MISSY: …What’s the book we’re reading?
MELJEAN: Diana Palmer’s HEART OF ICE.
MISSY: Hey! I thought we were reading Nora Roberts’s IRISH THOROUGHBRED?
MELJEAN: I was in a hurry and grabbed the wrong purple book from the table. What? Don’t kick my face or I’ll stab you with my pencil! Jesus! It’s your fault, you lazy little shit. You never learned how to wake up early, and by this time it is impossible. You’re always running out the door at the last minute, or late — and now that you have a baby you’re later than ever, because getting yourself and the baby ready on time? Forget it.
MISSY: Awww. Is she cute?
MELJEAN: Yep. And half-Indian, too. But not the kind of Indian you were thinking, I imagine.
MISSY: Dammit! I want a fricking teepee!

MELJEAN: Oh, joy — a cowboy.
MISSY: I like cowboys. But why is there a plane in the background? And mountains?
MELJEAN: Because in the future, planes and mountains hump each other.
MISSY: You are such a dork.
MELJEAN: Hehe. I like puns.
MISSY: So does Satan.
MELJEAN: Yeah. But it kinda looks like a big, shiny dick is coming out the back of his head, doesn’t it?
MISSY: ….
MELJEAN: Alrighty then! Because I’m too lazy to type up the back copy, I took a picture of it:

MELJEAN: *sigh* I remember when category romances were only $1.95. And, hey, it’s a Mary Sue!
MISSY: A what?
MELJEAN: It’s about a romance writer — written by a romance writer!
MISSY: Oh. Oh! So you think this is a book where the author puts herself in as the heroine?
MELJEAN: Well, maybe not — I know nothing about Palmer’s biography, after all — but it is kinda weird.
MISSY: I don’t think so. It can’t be just secretaries that fall in love — romance writers need love, too.
MELJEAN: Uh…yeah. Let’s take a gander at that excerpt:

Challenge to Love

“You slapped me once and got away with it,” Egan said quietly. “If you do it again, now, we’ll wind up in bed together.”

She felt her body tremble at the words. “No,” she bit off.

“Yes.” His chest rose and fell heavily, and his eyes cut into hers.

MELJEAN: Jesus H. Christ! His eyes CUT into hers? Motherhumping OUCH!
MISSY: How is that different from ‘glaring daggers’?
MELJEAN: It’s not, I guess…but, Yikes!
MISSY: I wish you wouldn’t interrupt these.
MELJEAN: Sooooo sorry!

…cut into hers. “Don’t you realize that the way we react to each other is like flint and steel? All it would take is a kiss. Just that. And we’d burn each other alive. I’ve known that from the very beginning.”

She hadn’t, and the thought of Egan as a lover made her bones melt. She had to smother a gasp as she turned away with her arms folded protectively around her slender body.

“Don’t worry; you’re safe, city girl,” he said in a mocking tone. “I’m not that desperate. Just don’t push me too far.”

MELJEAN: Hmmm…mocking? Check. Sexual threats? Check. Slender body? Check. Trembling? Check. We’ve got an eighties romance here, folks!
MISSY: I like it!
MELJEAN: Of course you do.
MISSY: Hey! I remember you bawling over DARKER FIRE, and liking THE DEVIL’S PAWN! So, shut up.
MELJEAN: **grumble grumble**

KATI: Wah! You invited your brother to Manhattan for the holidays? You know we hate each other!
ROOMMATE: But our mommy died, and he’s all alone.
KATI: Alright, I’ll be nice — but only because you are my best friend.

MISSY: Ew, she lives in New York City!
MELJEAN: *sigh* I wanna live in New York.
MISSY: You’re crazy! I’m gonna live in the mountains in a tee –
MELJEAN: Yeah, yeah, we know. Dork.
MISSY: She has a roommate — I wouldn’t mind a roommate in college or something.
MELJEAN: The college roommate isn’t bad. She has sex with her boyfriend in the bunk below yours. That’s interesting.
MISSY: Really?
MELJEAN: But you won’t really appreciate roommates until Venessa — who, a year after you begin living with her, starts working for an ‘escort service’.
MISSY: What does that mean?
MELJEAN: It means you get a studio apartment to yourself, real quick.

KATI: Oh, I hate Egan! I remember how, when I visited Wyoming a year ago, I went out with a friend of his, and the car broke down, and we had to walk twenty miles home. We didn’t get home until 4am, and Egan thought I was a slut!
FLASHBACK!
EGAN: You slut! Get out of my house!
KATI: But…but…!
EGAN: “You with your loose morals and your disgusting books!”
END FLASHBACK!

MELJEAN: Oh…okay, so this is going to be a defense of the romance writer’s morality.
MISSY: Poor Kati! Egan treats her so badly, and doesn’t listen to her at all! But she’s not a slut, she isn’t!
MELJEAN: So…what if she was?
MISSY: …you’re kidding, right?

EGAN: Hello, slut!
KATI: Oh, your unexpected appearance has made me crush a Christmas ornament in my hand! I’m bleeeeeeeding!
EGAN: Let me bandage that up for you, slut.
KATI: Your nearness makes me all…hot.
EGAN: God, you slut, hurting yourself so that I have to get close to you and make me want you!

MELJEAN: **bangs head on desk**
MISSY: You can tell he really wants her, but is fighting it.
MELJEAN: **headdesk**
MISSY: What? It’s just a misunderstanding — first, he reads sexy parts in her books. Then she’s out late with men. Then he sees her dressed up all sexy — of course he thinks she sleeps with everyone, and thinks she is lying about it when she says she doesn’t!
MELJEAN: **kills self**

EGAN: How many men have you slept with to research your sexy books, slut?
KATI: You’re wrong about me!
EGAN: No I’m not! God, I have to kiss you, you slut! **kisses her punishingly, but then it becomes all tender and shit**
KATI: I want you! I hate you!
EGAN: I hate you! I want you, you slut! I don’t mind you being experienced, but your promiscuity is just too much!
KATI: “You big ugly cowboy!”

MELJEAN: **rolls on floor, laughing** Best. Line. Ever.

EGAN: Do you really think I’m ugly, slut? **kissssssss**
KATI: Don’t threaten me with sex! (runs to room and slams the door)
EGAN: Let me in, slut!
ROOMMATE: Can’t we all just get along?
KATI: Okay. Do you want me to make you an omelet?
EGAN: Okay.
KATI: You aren’t so bad when you aren’t calling me a slut.
EGAN: No, I’m not. Wanna come out to the ranch so you can research your new book? (aside) Slut.

MISSY: Yay! They are getting along now. Egan’s not so bad, is he?
MELJEAN: Well…yeah.
MISSY: God, I hate you! You have an empty soul!
MELJEAN: …I don’t even know what to say to that.

KATI: Wyoming is sooooo bee-yoo-tee-full!
EGAN: So are you. Too bad you are a slut.
KATI: Have you actually ever read one of my books?
EGAN: I’ve read enough, slut.
KATI: It’s the characters doing that stuff, not me.

MELJEAN: Oh, great — instead of challenging the idea that any woman who sleeps with a man is a slut, it just reinforces it. “My characters have sex, not me! The sex is fantasy, so I’m still untouched and pure!” So what if she HAD had sex? Would Egan have been proved right? Egan may be wrong about her, specifically, but this never says he’s wrong about women who sleep with other men being sluts. On one hand, I can appreciate what Palmer is doing here — separating the author from the work; after all, Stephen King doesn’t go around killing people for real — but the underlying stereotype that fuels Egan’s opinion of Kati is never really overturned. It just has the appearance of it.
MISSY: What the hell are you talking about? Mumbo jumbo, I say.
MELJEAN: Look, Egan’s operating under two assumptions. A) Romance writers can’t write sex scenes without trying them out beforehand, and B) Women who sleep with other men are sluts. Kati disproves A, but B is still left dangling — and B is really the important one.
MISSY: Says who?
MELJEAN: Says me.

EGAN: Let’s do it!
KATI: Okay, but there’s something I need to tell you: my parents were missionaries, and I’m a virgin.
EGAN: What the fuck? I can’t hump a virgin!

MELJEAN: So he doesn’t mind if she has experience as long as she isn’t promiscuous — but if she’s a virgin, she’s off limits, too? Jesus, Egan! Make up your fucking mind.
MISSY: Oh, it’s so honorable! He finds out he was wrong, and now he feels bad about how he treated her…awwww. I’m gonna grow up and be a virgin romance writer, and find a hero like Egan to sweep me off my feet and then grovel!
MELJEAN: Well, you got part of that right.

KATI: I should go.
EGAN: Stay.
KATI: I can’t.
EGAN: Why?
KATI: Because I can’t live on crumbs.
EGAN: I’m all rich and shit — and I’m really hot in bed.
KATI: No.
EGAN: Why?
KATI: Because I’m in love with you.
EGAN: Whuh?
KATI: “I’d rather be alone forever than on my knees at your heart.”

MISSY: Best. Line. Ever.
MELJEAN: You weenie.

EGAN: Whuh? You love…me?
THE WISE HOUSEKEEPER: Phone call!
EGAN: Shit, I have to get that because one of my men was gored by a bull. Stay here.
KATI: Okay. (waits for Egan to leave and runs to the airport)
EGAN: Fuck! (goes to the airport and carries her off the plane)
KATI: Wah!
EGAN: I love you.
KATI: Oh, okay then.

MISSY: Awwwwww!!
MELJEAN: Jesus, you dork. No wonder I left you in the closet for so long.
MISSY: I wanna live happily ever after writing romance novels!
MELJEAN: Hey! Whaddya know? I guess I didn’t destroy all of your dreams.
MISSY: …
MELJEAN: Tee hee.
MISSY: Hadn’t you better get to work, slut? Write write write!
MELJEAN: Yes, indeed I better.

MELJEAN: Hmm…the site seems to be on the blink.
MISSY: Oh, so this is your excuse for being late? You said you’d play with me yesterday.
MELJEAN: Hehe. So I did. I admit it, I’m a dork. The only thing I worry about being late for is a deadline. Oh, and menstruating. That would be BAAAAAD.
MISSY: What would I know about that? I’m only ten.
MELJEAN: Yeah, I know. I remember. It’ll happen when you are twelve, on a trip from Wallowa to Dallas – in a McDonald’s bathroom. Or is it McDonald’s’s? I guess it is being used as an adjective, not a possessive, right? Anyway, Mom says, “You’re a woman now!”
MISSY: Hey, that’s what Caroline told Barrett after he humped her for the first time. So, which is it? Do you become a woman when you menstruate, or when you hump?
MELJEAN: Hell, I’ve done both and got married and had a baby, and I’m not really sure that I qualify for the ‘woman’ title yet.
MISSY: That’s depressing. Do I grow up to be a total loser?
MELJEAN: Pretty much.
MISSY: **sobs**
MELJEAN: It’s okay, kid. In times like these when the winners are Paris Hilton and Reality TV, being a loser isn’t so bad. Stop crying. Stop before I whack you! … Alrighty then.
MISSY: So, what book is it today?
MELJEAN: The Devil’s Pawn by Yvonne Whittal. And, I must say, after checking out the current AAR At The Back Fence message boards and reading Black Ice by Anne Stuart last night, this is surprisingly timely. (Although, of course, that link won’t be timely once the new ATFB column goes up.)
MISSY: Black Ice?
MELJEAN: Sorry, kid, you gotta wait about nine years before discovering AAR, and seventeen for this book. But AAR is great – it’s one of the things that helps you realize that you aren’t the only romance reader out there, and you stop hiding the books you are reading.
MISSY: Whatever. The book?
Cover:

MISSY: What’s wrong with her shoulder?
MELJEAN: Well, it was published in 1985, so she’s probably wearing humongous shoulder pads.
MISSY: Mom says they make her waist look thinner.
MELJEAN: They are only good for giving Satan a nice, comfy place to sit while he’s on your shoulder giving horrible fashion advice.
MISSY: Well, I’m going to wear them!
MELJEAN: You little slut-bride of Satan! Don’t embarrass me like that! … Dammit, too late.

Could Cara’s love cancel the debt?

MELJEAN: **mutters** Ah, just lovely. Emotional Value is interchangeable with Money. Fetishism, commodities, oh my!
MISSY: I really wish you’d stop breaking into the back copy with your mumbo-jumbo.
MELJEAN: Meeee-yow!

“Marry me, and your father can have twelve months more on his loan.” Vince Steiner’s insolent, faintly sensuous smile told Cara she was as much an object of desire to the South African construction magnate as she was the daughter of the man he despised.

Caran knew nothing of her father’s dealings with the Steiner family. She only knew her new husband’s heart seemed to have little room for love.

Yet somewhere behind Vince’s harsh unrelenting exterior, Cara glimpsed a man who might someday need more than a pawn in a deadly game of revenge.

MELJEAN: Groan!
MISSY: I like the description. It sounds a lot like Carole Mortimer’s Only Lover. She sacrifices herself to help her father get out of financial trouble.
MELJEAN: That’s one reason why I’m groaning. But the other is that this is set in South Africa. Nowadays, I avoid South African romances and Civil War romances.
MISSY: Why?
MELJEAN: I have a really hard time enjoying them. The racial issues bother me too much, and I have difficulty separating the story from the setting. I’m always looking for the ways in which the author handles issues like slavery and Apartheid. And this was published before 1990, when institutionalized racial segregation was finally abolished.
MISSY: So? That doesn’t mean the author thought racism was okay. I’ve read Yvonne Whittal before; I like her.
MELJEAN: I know that, but it still makes me feel icky inside because it is the 1980′s. People should have known better. If it was written in the 1880′s, I could deal with it. Sigh. What do you know about it, anyway? Wallowa isn’t exactly a great example of racial diversity. At this point, you’ve only seen black people on TV.
MISSY: The black people on TV are so funny. I like them.
MELJEAN: You’ve made my point, dork.

“Pick up your glass, and drink to my success.”

“My tender has been accepted for the new steel plant,” Vince continued, his voice triumphant.

Now her father would have to sell everything to repay the loan. This was the final blow.

Their eyes locked in silent battle for interminable seconds before Cara raised her glass with an air of defiance. “I won’t drink to your success, Vince, but I’ll drink to the sincere wish that your desire for revenge will at last be satisfied and you rid yourself of the hatred that is destroying you.”

She swallowed a mouthful of the bubbling liquid. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to see my father.”

Cara drew in an anguished breath that sounded more like a sob. She loved Vince, but he was tearing her in two.

MELJEAN: That’s a really uneven excerpt; the last paragraph just doesn’t seem to fit, or maybe it was just stuck in from somewhere else. And, if I remember right, this scene comes very, very late in the novel.
MISSY: It means that we already know her sacrifice was for nothing. That’s good!
MELJEAN: Why?
MISSY: Because, duh, they are already married. How will they work it out? Her dad’s not an issue anymore, and now we have to find out if her love can cancel the debt.
MELJEAN: …the reasons you come up with are really weird, and make no logical sense.
MISSY: Who cares about logic? It’s romance!
MELJEAN: (aside) Oh, god. I was what I hate!
MISSY: Hey, look at this! Someone wrote “Good” on this excerpt page. And it used to belong in the personal library of “SZ”. I guess the person who used to own this liked it, huh? I wonder why they got rid of it if they liked it?
MELJEAN: Well, check out the handwriting. It screams “old lady”. She probably died, and her kids sold all her books to make a few bucks.
MISSY: Those bastards!

[The book]

CARA: Hey, dad, who ya talking to?
DAD: No one, Cara, it’s business!
VINCE: He’s talking to me! Tell her what’s going on.
CARA: (aside) He’s so hot…but so ruthless!
DAD: Vince lent me money, and he’s calling in the loan. I might get a contract pretty soon that will allow me to pay him back, but if I don’t get the contract we’ll have to sell the house and we’ll lose our current lifestyle and it would destroy your mother!
CARA: Oh, no! Is there anything I can do?
VINCE: I know of a way for you to help your father. Bwahahaha!
CARA: Gasp!
DAD: No!
VINCE: **smolders** Yes!
CARA: Alright, you’ve convinced me. Yes!

MISSY: Oh, poor Cara! Vince is so ruthless!
MELJEAN: Her father is a worthless piece of shit to let his daughter pay for his mistakes. And why don’t they ASK the mother if it would destroy her? …hey, look at this! I used this poem in one of my fanfics, but Bruce was thinking of Diana. I never could remember where I first read it; I knew it was a romance, but I couldn’t remember which one.
MISSY: Whuh?
MELJEAN: **blushes** Never mind.

VINCE: We are married — now get in that bed!
CARA: No! No! (aside) God, he makes me hot. But it is so wrong that he makes me hot, because I don’t love him!
VINCE: Feel my mighty man-sword, virgin!
CARA: No…NO! YES YES YES! Ouch! YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!

MISSY: I feel all squoogy inside. Like, I’m glad for the sex, because I like the sex, but…I don’t know.
MELJEAN: I know exactly. I’ve talked about this before, but forced seductions are one of my guilty pleasures. She wants him, he wants her — and he makes her acknowledge it.
MISSY: I just read Clan of the Cave Bear. This was different than what happened to Ayla in there, but…how different? I didn’t like that.
MELJEAN: If you had liked it, I wouldn’t have thought any less of you. It’s all fantasy, one way or another. I know you are old enough to tell the difference between fantasy and real — real life forced seductions/rape = bad. In books, people can feel about them however they want. But, no, you probably didn’t like the scene in Clan of the Cave Bearbecause there wasn’t any attraction between the two. But if Ayla had wanted him…
MISSY: Ew, who would like doing it with a Neanderthal?
MELJEAN: You’d be surprised. Hehe. I even wrote a parody of it using Batman and Wonder Woman.
MISSY: You are one sick puppy.
MELJEAN: Woof. And, hey, it’s not so bad. Pretty soon you are going to read The Valley of Horses and meet Jondalar of the Giant Wang Clan. You’ll like him a lot, and caveman sex gets much better.
MISSY: The Giant Wang Clan? Is he a Chinese caveman?
MELJEAN: …god, you really need to get out of Wallowa.
MISSY: Should we get back to the book?
MELJEAN: Oh yeah! Anyway, here’s a passage I found interesting — it’s right before the forced seduction.

This man was not a cold-blooded, callous, sadistic beast as she had berated him. He was an expert lover who knew exactly how to please a woman, and it was this discovery that started a rebellion in Cara. A part of her wanted to surrender to the feelings he was arousing, but a part of her also rejected it. There was no love involved, and if she allowed him access to her body it would be nothing but lust. Her mind was still rational enough to find the word abhorrent. It was wrong to feel this way about a man she did not love; it was loathsome and degrading, and her body writhed beneath him in protest.

MISSY: Why is lust so bad?
MELJEAN: See, kid, this is why I like you. It’s not, but it’s pretty widely acknowledged that at this point, rapes and forced seductions took place partly because it let the heroine have sex without becoming a slut or a bad girl. Whittal states it explicitly here: enjoying sex without being in love is abhorrent. So Vince takes that choice away from Cara, and forces her to enjoy it despite her goody little self.
MISSY: I’m going to do it a lot when I grow up. If he’s sexy, I’m going to do him and not feel bad about it at all!
MELJEAN: Aw, that’s my girl.
MISSY: ……..So?
MELJEAN: What? Oh! Hell, no! I’ll tell you later. In private.
MISSY: You’re no fun.

VINCE: Let’s go to a cabin and do it again.
CARA: YES YES YES! Oh my god, I love him!
VINCE: **broods**
CARA: Oh, why must you be so full of hate?
VINCE: You don’t know anything about it!

DAD: (sweating) I really need to get that contract.
CARA: Dad, you’re a weenie asshole for using me like this. And why don’t you tell Mom? She can handle this!

MELJEAN: **stunned** That’s what I said! Whoo hoo, Cara, I’m impressed.

VINCE: Hey, Cara, this is my friend Chantal Webber.
CARA: She used to be your lover, right? (aside) I could never be that cool and sophisticated and beautiful. Oh, why oh why do you hate my father so?
VINCE: That’s right. I hate your father! **kisses Cara punishingly**
CARA: **sobs** Then go to Chantal if you hate me so much!
VINCE: Okay, I will.
CARA: (hears Vince go to Chantal’s room) **sobs** I didn’t mean it! **sooooobbbbbsssss**

MELJEAN: Okay, so obviously he’s just trying to make her jealous.
MISSY: Ack! Don’t ruin it for me. He’s treating her so badly! It makes my heart hurt for her. She loves him and thinks he’s gone to the other woman — that she’s pushed him to another woman. **sniff**

VINCE: I hate your father because my dad ended up killing himself when your dad blamed him for some bad construction job!
CARA: My dad’s not that evil! I’m sure there’s some mistake!
VINCE: No mistake – and he’ll be ruined and in the same place my father was once I get this contract!
CARA: No! My father needs that contract!

MISSY: But we already know her father doesn’t get the contract. I wonder what happens next?
MELJEAN: Are you being sarcastic?
MISSY: No way! I love this so far.
MELJEAN: I’m surprised that I’m enjoying it so much, too. All of my real complaints about Cara’s character have been answered — and Vince is an ass, but that doesn’t bother me as long as the payoff is good.

[insert excerpt]
VINCE: I got the contract! Bwah ha!
CARA: Oh, poor daddy!
DAD: **clutches chest and falls over**
CARA: Are you happy now, Vince? You don’t hate my dad as much as you hate your own for committing suicide!
VINCE: I would not say such things if I were you!

MISSY: Hey, that was a gratuitous The Princess Bride reference.
MELJEAN: Nothing about that movie is gratuitous. I heart Westley. And doesn’t Vince kind of look like a ruthless version of Westley?
MISSY: Hey, you’re right! But he doesn’t have eyes like the sea after a storm.
MELJEAN: Aw, damn.

MOM: Cara, I can’t believe you sacrificed yourself for such a stupid reason!
CARA: Oh, mom!
MOM: In any case, what really happened with Vince’s dad was all a big misunderstanding — by the time your dad found out what had happened, Steiner had already killed himself.
VINCE: **looking all hunched over and sad** Cara…
CARA: Don’t talk to me! This marriage is over — I’m going to help my mom and dad, and then I’m leaving this town.
VINCE: Please don’t leave. Please. I can’t let you go!
CARA: Why?
VINCE: Because I lo –
VINCE’S SISTER: Yo, Vince! You’ve got a phone call. You’ve got to go see Cara’s dad and make amends in case he croaks.
VINCE: Damn, I have to go! Wait for me until I get back. Pretty please?
CARA: Oh, alright.

MELJEAN: Haha! That’s right, asshole — get on your knees!
MISSY: Oh! This is so sweet. He’s torn apart at the thought of her leaving him. **sniff**
MELJEAN: When he gets back from talking to the weenie, I hope she makes him suffer a little more **rubs hands together gleefully**

VINCE: I’m going to let your dad be a subcontractor, and I’ve forgiven the debt.
CARA: Oh, that’s good — bye now. (aside) I’ll love him forever, but I can’t stay if he doesn’t love me!
VINCE: I can’t let you go — but I know you must hate me!
CARA: I don’t hate you.
VINCE: What do you feel then? I must know!
CARA: Why, so you can humiliate me?
VINCE: You love me! I love you, too.
CARA: Yay! **kiss**

The End.

MISSY: **sniff** Do you have that tight, achy full feeling in your chest?
MELJEAN: The one that says, “Oh, I’m so happy and I love this book?”
MISSY: Yeah.
MELJEAN: ….yeah. It looks like the dead old lady was right, it was pretty good, even if only as a guilty pleasure. God, I’m such a loser. I may have sneered at the inclusion of the black butler who calls Vince “Master”, but the romance worked for me.
MISSY: The butler? I didn’t even notice him. He took up all of, what, three sentences?
MELJEAN: Those three sentences say volumes. You’ll learn, kid.

UP NEXT: Missy’s first Nora Roberts book.

MISSY: Hey! I read that book a year or two ago. Why are we going backwards?
MELJEAN: Because I’m a loser. And because it shipped later. It might be a while before I talk about it, though.
MISSY: Aw, man!
MELJEAN: Yep. Into the closet you go, little girl. Until I have a bit more time.
MISSY: Cripes. Can you at least give me some magazines to look at in here?
MELJEAN: ….you really were a freak, weren’t you?
MISSY: **snort** Look who’s talking, schizo.

MISSY: So, what’s this theory?
MELJEAN: I’ll get to it in a second…
MISSY: **scowls** You know, I hate it in suspense novels when the person with the theory is always like, “I know all the answers, but I’m not going to tell them yet!” Why? It makes no sense, except to prolong the retardation and maybe give the bad guy a chance to kill the smart guy before he lets all the dumbshits know what’s really going on.
MELJEAN: Yikes! You’re quite the upset little bunny right now.
MISSY: Yeah, well, wouldn’t you be? I’m ten years old, and we just moved away from the woods outside of Dallas, Oregon—which I loved, and where I could be around the horses and have dreams of being a Wild Girl—into podunk Wallowa, Oregon.
MELJEAN: And you don’t have any friends…
MISSY: Right! There’re like, five girls in my class, and they were friends their whole lives! I don’t fit in. **mumbles** And they made fun of my jeans.
MELJEAN: What’s the matter with your jeans?
MISSY: Nothing. Except that I only have one pair.
MELJEAN: Ah. So they made fun of you because you were poor.
MISSY: Yeah.
MELJEAN: Do you really want those girls as your friends?
MISSY: Yes! I never had friends, and I want some.
MELJEAN: So right now you are lonely.
MISSY: Duh.
MELJEAN: And you are up in this room reading books like mad…
MISSY: Yeah.
MELJEAN: And you are finding most of your enjoyment and happiness through the books.
MISSY: Especially the animal books and the romances.
MELJEAN: Because they always have a happy ending.
MISSY: Except The Red Pony. I hate Steinbeck.
MELJEAN: You’ll forgive him when you read The Grapes of Wrath. You’ll cry over that book, too.
MISSY: “Too”? What does that mean?
MELJEAN: You’re about to bawl your head off. And my theory is that you are lonely and gobbling up these books, and I remember the subject of this one very, very well—I think you cry over this book especially because of the little girl who reminds you of yourself?
MISSY: What in the name of God are you talking about?
MELJEAN: Darker Fire by Morgan Patterson (HR #2667)
MISSY: Oh, a new book? Let’s read!

MELJEAN: How old are you now, kid?
MISSY: Nine. And you are a liar.
MELJEAN: Huh?
MISSY: You said this was my first Silhouette Desire. It’s not. I read two before this one: Rare Breed by Janet Joyce and Through Laughter and Tears by Marie Nicole.
MELJEAN: Oh, yeah! You read them in Auntie Joy’s tent-trailer when you were camping on the Oregon coast that one year.
MISSY: Yep.
MELJEAN: But this is the first one you really loved. So much that you used to sneak it down to Auntie Joy’s basement to read every time you visited her.
MISSY: Well, she was the only one who bought the Desire line.
MELJEAN: And then you stuffed it down your pants one day and stole it.
MISSY: **blushes**
MELJEAN: You little dork.
MISSY: Shut up. Let’s get on with it, huh?
MELJEAN: Alright. So what book is this?
MISSY: Whenever I Love You by Alana Smith (SD#10).
MELJEAN: Why the italics? Usually you use capitals for titles.
MISSY: It’s too confusing, what with our names all in caps and shit.
MELJEAN: You have such a dirty mouth. Let’s take a gander at the cover and back copy.

Okay, you guys — I apologize in advance for recycling old posts, but I’ve recently been reminded about Missy, and I’m thinking she needs to come out of the closet again. But — I also don’t know my schedule this week (methinks it will be one of THOSE weeks) so I’m taking the lazy way out, and reposting a few of these.

And, double loser Meljean, how sad is this? I went back to copy the post from the old blog, from May 2005, and found 204 spam comments, and three reader comments that I hadn’t noticed before (or responded to). Sorry Cindy, Jill Monroe, and withoutwit, I sucketh.

Memory Lane: Meljean’s first romance novel (more after the jump)