Listen – I don’t read pulp romances, there’s not a single Mills & Boon or Harlequin Romance to be found in my house. But obviously, somewhere in my deepest darkest, most ignored and reviled corner of my heart there lies a pen with proclivities to purple prose. There’s nothing I can do about it. Really, I’ve tried. And just when I think I’ve got rid of it at last – it scribbles something off, for all the world to see. I am so ashamed…
Hey! Purple prose are great. Never be ashamed of a gift! That picture is hilarious. Love the white flip flops with the lace dress. So campy.
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Thank you… she put these on after the ceremony and photos were done… that kind of gal…
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Yowserrrrsss! Love it! Have to step outside into the cool night so I will be able to get to sleep! 😀 Love the photo, Titi. (how many different names have I used so far?! )
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Well – I guess it did it’s job then! Ha ha…
Not sure how many names you’ve come up with… I suppose I might object to being called Tits… though the name does cry out for schoolboy humour… The village of Titirangi is known affectionately as Titters in these parts, so … go for it!
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Ah yes, the flip flops and the lace. Quite a combination.
Purple prose has its moments. and as long as we are sharing, I will admit to having read one “historical” romance because my best friend at the time convinced me that it was different. I think that it was called Through a Glass Darkly, or something like that, and I actually found myself drawn into the story.
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When I was very young I used to alternate one classic with one piece of trash, which is how I got to read the Carpetbaggers, Valley of the Dolls, The Other Side of Midnight and a half dozen Robert Ludlum thrillers. In retrospect, they did no harm as they did not interfere with the classical reading programme I had set for myself… I stopped reading them when I realised that even while I was reading (and enjoying them) there was no substance, nothing stuck and the real reason, I couldn’t remember what was happening in any of them from day to day reading…
I have a copy of Victoria Holt’s “Night of the 7th Moon’ downstairs that I found at a tag sale some years ago – I think it was the first trashy novel I read… I’ve been meaning to re-read it – “one of these days…”
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