When I think of romance novels, I imagine Fabio. (Anybody remember Fabio?) Long, blond hair, chisel chin, beefy muscles, and white shirts with lace at the cuffs. I picture damsels in distress and euphemisms galore. I cringe just thinking about it. It’s a very popular genre and I’m happy people have their joys, but yuck.Continue reading “Romance Novels”
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The Accidental Domestic Goddess 