The Beautiful Kind

When I was a kid my mom used to alternate between reading romance novels and true crime books. I ended up reading a bunch of both. Regardless of the genre, they usually involved women being impaled in some fashion.

In 7th grade my flamboyent, gay English teacher assigned everyone in the class the task of reading a romance novel and writing a book report on it. I thought that was so fabulously sadistic of him, forcing the boys to be seen with one, pushing our limits, putting our hormones in overdrive.

I just discovered this AWESOME book called The Bride Sale. Check it out:

A woman is sold at auction
. . . and bought by a mysterious lord

Verity Osborne was a young woman who had allowed others to direct her life, but now faced a situation so shocking she must find the strength to fight for her safety, her sanity, her virtue . . . and to fight against a dangerous attraction.

They called him Lord Heartless. James Harkness preferred a vile and fearful reputation rather than have the shameful truth revealed . . . until the healing power of love changed his life.

FUCK YEAH! When women read these books, they’re acknowledging, “Spoon feed me all the gender roles, mmm, I don’t care how wrong it is, it warms my crotch.”