*CONTEST!!!* The .4K Romance novelette!

[Innocent Bystander]

A Man of Quiet Conviction

She could not help but admire a man in uniform. There was something so controlled about the uniform, and yet the promise of so much more from the man, no – the animal within.
She looked down demurely, then peeped up carefully through her thick, dark eyelashes. He was looking back. An irresistible blush rose to her cheeks. Would he see? His eyes seemed to search for hers. The haircuts are so severe, she thought absently. His shoulders moved with a strong and careless grace. He was coming this way. Would he ask her to dance? Suddenly her throat was dry.
“Excuse me, Ma’am, may I have the pleasure…?”
“Why, of course,” she murmured, and he swept her into his arms as the music of the waltz swelled and swirled around her head. Her hand trembled as it lay on his shoulder, and she could feel the warm strength of his hand at her back. He was so close to her. Her heart beat with the music, and she ignored the sensation, making sure she placed her feet correctly, making sure that the dance was the thing, turning in time, guiding and guided; two individuals who moved as one. She glanced at his face. He was gazing at her with a quiet intensity that made her pulse race. His eyes flickered to the other couples and back to her as they stepped and turned like automata, like the perfect figurines on a music box. She could sense a purpose there, a hidden desperation which called to her as a woman. At last the music swelled to a close, and they parted, reluctantly, smiling with delight and nervousness both, applauding the music, and applauding each other.
“Such a warm night,” she ventured.
“It is indeed, Ma’am,” he replied, but sank into silence.
“Perhaps you would care for a turn around the gardens,” she asked, but sadly he shook his head.
“I had best be getting back,” he answered. “Warden likes to have us all back in our cells by ten o’clock.”

[fearfaoin]

I think the contest is well and truly won. Well played, sir.

[Lambchop]

It is NOT won! I haven't had my chance yet!!!

What's the submission deadline? I have a thing to write for class is why I'm asking.

Hmmm, maybe I can combine the two . . .

[Walden]

There was this ol' gal from up Vinita, and she was going with an old boy from Gravette, and they was all in love.

They did everything together. Went to the show... attended the rodeo... went to the Calf Fry Festival... they even went to Country Fever. If it was an event, they went.

This old boy's name was Carl, and he had graduated high school in '78. He had a gift for poetry and he was always writing poems. These were good modern poems. Not that stuff that has meter.

Well, the girl, she hated poetry, and so she just had other people read them, and give her the gist of what it said.

One day, she thought, "y'know, Valentine's Day is coming up. I orta write him a poem, but I hate poems, so what I'll do is look something up in the Oxford Book of English Verse."

So that's what she done. She went down to the public library and she copied out the first poem in that book. It didn't make a lick of sense. Something about a lewdly singing cuckoo.

Well, Carl was astute. He had seen most of the movies that were in the "5 for 5 days for 5 dollars" section of National Video. He said, "ain't that the song from Holler Man?"

"No," she said, "I think there was one similar in Wicker Man... but not in Hollah Man. It ain't the same, though, I was just making literary reference in it"

This got Carl to thinking, and he remembered seeing Patricia Routledge in that show, and so he decided to buy her a bouquet of hyacinths and roses and violets and daisies.

She really liked the flowers, though they drew sweat bees.

They decided to get hitched, and so they did.

Finis.

[Congratulations]

Walden is my hero.

[emmline]

It is NOT won! I haven't had my chance yet!!!

What's the submission deadline? I have a thing to write for class is why I'm asking.

Hmmm, maybe I can combine the two . . .

Oh, let's run it through the weekend, at least, and see how fast the thread sinks!

[Joseph E. Smith]

So, do the entries have to be posted here, or are they supposed to be PMd to you?

[Jack]

Is that the kind of book that Victoria Holt writes?

[emmline]

So, do the entries have to be posted here, or are they supposed to be PMd to you?

pm if you want to be posted pseudonymously.

[Flyingcursor]

Come on folks. Start posting. So far IB and Walden's stories have me crying like a schoolgirl.

[rebl_rn]

If anyone needs inspiration, check out the Purple Prose Parody contest at All About Romance.

[susnfx]

With compliments to Emmline's example in the first post, this is sort of like walking into a beginning painting class and the teacher says, "See this lovely landscape I've painted? Now I'd like you to do one." Right. What I mean is, I can't write anything nearly as good as the example, so I'll pass on this one. And besides, Em has obviously read FAR too many of this type of book (*sniff*) and has them down pat. I, on the other hand, am not familiar enough with with the genre to involve myself.

Susan

[emmline]

Author: Vespa Nutmeg

“Señorita, may I introduce mi hermano Luis.”
His grip was magnetic. Mattie blushed as the energy in his dark eyes sparked an unexpected frisson of electricity in her lithesome frame. But there were darker secrets in his gaze. Distrust. Pain. Desire.

Later, Mattie knelt in the ranch’s small chapel, her mind drifting to the horrible day when she became, in an instant, stranded without family or means. By what grace had the caboose detached as the train plunged into the gorge? And by what grace had she not been alone? But by the spit and determination that was the hallmark of a Clagett woman, she pulled herself together and accompany Maria, the pastry chef, to the San Antonio ranch of Carlos Rojado to apply for the position of governess.

There were hushed, quarrelsome voices in the chapel corridor.
“Cuidado Carlos...” said the voice which Mattie could not banish from her dreams.

“I trust the girl,” replied the calm voice of Carlos. “Los niños love her. Their reading...their sums...so improved.”

“But the federales,” insisted Luis. “Spies, everywhere! A woman you don’t know? Peligrosa!” Retreating footsteps echoed in the hall.

Mattie’s face blazed with anger, and she burst into the corridor, colliding with Luis’ firm torso.

“Let go of me!” she gasped breathlessly. “Where is Señor Rojado?”

“He has business in Laredo. Now you will tell me the truth, No?”

“No!” she snapped indignantly. “I’m not a spy! That is the truth!”

“Comprenda Señorita,” said Luis, with the half-smile she’d struggled to forget. His grip on her barely relaxed. “I will protect my brother’s family...they’re all I have.”

“Luis?” For a fleeting moment his defenses dissolved and she read in his face the tragedy of his family’s homestead, burned to the ground in a bloody skirmish. His breath grew shallow and the scent of chili and chocolate drew her closer until she tasted it on his lips.

He pushed her away abruptly. “I must tend the ranch!” he snarled. “And you the children!”

Mattie lost herself in the children's lessons, almost convincing herself it was for the best when Luis left with the Zapatistas.

But when Luis returned, broken and bloodied, one glance into his smoldering eyes told Mattie that chile and chocolate would be her favorite scents for now and forever.

[emmline]

And besides, Em has obviously read FAR too many of this type of book (*sniff*) and has them down pat.

In my own defense, I must first confess to having read a handful in my youth, but insist that it only takes reading a couple to have a handle on the genre. Actually, I think the real trick to writing this stuff is a gift for bs.

[fel bautista]

Fllorrd leapt from his massive Brown dragon into the waiting arms of
Suzarn, who had already finished her run. She ran her fingers over his
new Thread scars, and wished for the hundredth time that they this
Pass would finally be done, so she could rest in Fllorrd's arms for the
rest of their days. Her Green bellowed as she drew Fllorrd into a
passionate embrace.

Which Hold are they from?? Must be from the south?!? I think you missed an apostrophe as in FL'orrd and Suz'arn