In praise of sweaty biceps

Generated romance novel plot of the day:

Waiting alone in the great, oak-paneled library, with the scent of almond blossoms and frangipani wafting in from outside, Lady Pamela thought once more of Doctor Ken, the bold bandito who had been so gentle in her arms. He was now, according to the message on the dagger, struggling for life in the intensive care ward.

Then came the thud of fists, a muffled cry, fighting on the stairway, and she whirled around. He was here! “Our love will outlast eternity, my perfect little carrot!” he intoned, flexing his sweaty biceps, and as the glow of renewed love gradually overcame her mounting desire for dinner, she allowed her willing mind to sink into a rose-colored maelstrom of bliss.

I like how she chooses to screw over eating. What a lady!


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