Hello, Hooked on Romance readers!

I’m “Lunatic” Lucy Woodhull and am trés honored to be guest blogging for Jenius Jax this fine Monday. Please keep reading - I’m bribing you with a contest and everything!

If you’re anything like me on Mondays, you’re lucky to make it out of the house with your underpants on the inside of your clothes. So I thought I’d initiate the world’s easiest writing exercise - Romance Mad Libs! Yes, you, too can write a “quality” romance novel, using the handy-dandy form I’ve given below.

Meet Lady Chastity Quiverlips and the wicked man who wishes to capture her lush, throbbing… er… heart.

Give us your best mad lib in the comments! Special points for use of the word “mantitty” (with all honorifics to the Smart Bitches). I will be choosing the best terrible mad lib and offering a copy of PRIDE AND PREJUDICE AND ZOMBIES to the winner! Huzzah!

***

Lady Chastity Quiverlips gasped at the sound of a _________ behind her. "By the _________s!" she exclaimed _________ly.

"All alone in the _________, eh Lady Quiverlips?" a familiar voice purred. Oh, no! That voice belonged to none other than Lord Guy Princely, the _________ Earl of _________. Heavens to Betsy, if she were caught _________ with him all alone in the _________ her reputation would be _________! Everyone knew of his _________ penchant for _________ing young, _________ maidens, and, also, of his love of _________ _________ _________ing them!

"N-no!" Chastity turned and gasped. As usual, the vision of his _________ _________ unnerved her. And something else as well... a _________ feeling of _________ pulsated through her _________s at the very sight of his well-muscled _________. "I am expecting my _________ to join me at any moment," she _________ed.

"Nonsense!" said Lord Princely, _________ly. With nary a by-your-leave, he pulled Chastity into his manly _________. "Finally, I have you _________ _________! Now, Chastity, I shall _________ _________ you as I have always dreamed of! And, also, I shall _________ you for good measure. You look like you could use a good _________ing."

Her head spun _________ly in three wild directions at once. It was true - she could use a good _________ing. But how did he know? The feel of his _________ on her _________ caused her _________ _________ to spasm _________ly. Never had her _________ spasmed so! Not even that one time, when a _________ had _________d her _________, last March.

"Lord Princely! You must stop this _________ing at once!" She pushed against his _________ frame to no avail. He was stronger than a _________ wrassling a _________ _________ and beefcakier than a _________ _________. "I shall never be your _________!"

He laughed, the dark _________ sound sending _________ down her _________. "It is pointless to _________, luscious Chastity. Never forget, I know all about the _________ you once _________ _________! I shall tell everyone your secret unless you let me _________ _________ your creamy _________. Haha! When I’m through _________ing you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of _________!”

Shucks and drat! How did he know her secret? Chastity _________d. Her poor, virginal _________ might never recover from the sexy onslaught of Lord Princely’s _________ _________.


ABOUT LUCY:

Lucy Woodhull has a background as an actress and producer, as well as writer. She loves to laugh and to make others laugh. Red lipstick and vintage clothing are amongst her favorite things, as well as a shameful enjoyment of the teenage angst show Gossip Girl. Her favorite non-shameful authors include Elizabeth Peters, Anne Perry and Alexander McCall Smith. In her spare time Lucy enjoys out-punning her friends and inspiring her wonderful husband to call her “weird”. She owns a cat. A very fat, rather bitchy, cat.

She is finishing edits, together with her writing partner Fellatia Langley, on her first complete novel, a romance parody called Love’s Bountiful Bulge. Recently she completed a sci-fi rom com novella, Ragnar and Juliet, which she would love to sell you. Learn more at www.lucywoodhull.com or her blog, http://www.yousayweird.blogspot.com/

Comments (9)

On September 28, 2009 at 11:48 AM , JulieD said...

cripes i struggled with "answer to the name of ___!" my thesaurus sure got a workout! that was mucho fun though, thanks for posting!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lady Chastity Quiverlips gasped at the sound of a snuffle behind her. "By the wowzers!" she exclaimed meekly.

"All alone in the pantry, eh Lady Quiverlips?" a familiar voice purred. Oh, no! That voice belonged to none other than Lord Guy Princely, the Twenty-Seventh Earl of Humpdon. Heavens to Betsy, if she were caught dilly-dallying with him all alone in the pantry her reputation would be extirpated! Everyone knew of his deviant penchant for permeating young, polluted maidens, and, also, of his love of cantillating while pounding them!

"N-no!" Chastity turned and gasped. As usual, the vision of his flexing mantitties unnerved her. And something else as well... a surging feeling of concupiscence pulsated through her extremities at the very sight of his well-muscled booty. "I am expecting my lapdog to join me at any moment," she vacillated.

"Nonsense!" said Lord Princely, enthusiastically. With nary a by-your-leave, he pulled Chastity into his manly clasp. "Finally, I have you isolated and unaccompanied! Now, Chastity, I shall lickeningly lave you as I have always dreamed of! And, also, I shall boink you for good measure. You look like you could use a good boinking."

Her head spun woozily in three wild directions at once. It was true - she could use a good boinking. But how did he know? The feel of his toes on her calf caused her lashed eyelids to spasm rhythmically. Never had her eyelids spasmed so! Not even that one time, when a grain of sand had flown into her eye, last March.

"Lord Princely! You must stop this groping at once!" She pushed against his colossal frame to no avail. He was stronger than a sasquatch wrassling a baby rabbit and beefcakier than a pound of hamburger. "I shall never be your boink-buddy!”

He laughed, the dark, stupefying sound sending pulsations down her earlobes. "It is pointless to cock-block me, luscious Chastity. Never forget, I know all about the cucumber you once suckled on! I shall tell everyone your secret unless you let me fondle and fumble your creamy lady-lumps. Haha! When I’m through impaling you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of Unchaste!”

Shucks and drat! How did he know her secret? Chastity blubbered. Her poor, virginal cubbyhole might never recover from the sexy onslaught of Lord Princely’s copious cudgel.

 
On September 28, 2009 at 12:44 PM , Anonymous said...

Lady Chastity Quiverlips gasped at the sound of a growl behind her. "By the saints!" she exclaimed Catholic-ly.

"All alone in the solarium, eh Lady Quiverlips?" a familiar voice purred. Oh, no! That voice belonged to none other than Lord Guy Princely, the 36th Earl of Bordelloshire. Heavens to Betsy, if she were caught sunbathing with him all alone in the solarium her reputation would be compromised! Everyone knew of his wicked penchant for plucking young, ripe maidens, and, also, of his love of expertly orally pleasuring them!

"N-no!" Chastity turned and gasped. As usual, the vision of his erect mantitties unnerved her. And something else as well... a bizarre feeling of heat pulsated through her bloomers at the very sight of his well-muscled mantitties. "I am expecting my aunt to join me at any moment," she lied.

"Nonsense!" said Lord Princely, condescendingly. With nary a by-your-leave, he pulled Chastity into his manly mantitties. "Finally, I have you to myself! Now, Chastity, I shall harshly kiss you as I have always dreamed of! And, also, I shall caress you for good measure. You look like you could use a good caressing."

Her head spun dizzingly in three wild directions at once. It was true - she could use a good caressing. But how did he know? The feel of his mantitties on her womantitties caused her wild orchid to spasm rapturously. Never had her flower spasmed so! Not even that one time, when a gardener had watered her stems, last March.

"Lord Princely! You must stop this caressing at once!" She pushed against his well-muscled frame to no avail. He was stronger than a baboon wrassling a two-peckered goat and beefcakier than a meatloaf sandwich. "I shall never be your plaything!"

He laughed, the dark rumbling sound sending prickles down her elbows. "It is pointless to resist, luscious Chastity. Never forget, I know all about the stableboy you once smiled at! I shall tell everyone your secret unless you let me feast upon your creamy petals. Haha! When I’m through tasting you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of Melissa!”

Shucks and drat! How did he know her secret? Chastity swooned. Her poor, virginal posy might never recover from the sexy onslaught of Lord Princely’s tongue lashing.

 
On September 28, 2009 at 2:10 PM , Lucy Woodhull said...

Ooooh most excellent Julie and Anon!

"Now, Chastity, I shall lickeningly lave you as I have always dreamed of!"

and

"When I’m through tasting you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of Melissa!”"

BWAhahahahaa!! Ya'll rock!

 
On September 28, 2009 at 6:34 PM , Lucy Woodhull said...

I thought I'd make my own terrible contribution the the festivities.

***


Lady Chastity Quiverlips gasped at the sound of a swagger behind her. "By the Smurfs!" she exclaimed Smurfily.

"All alone in the butler's pantry, eh Lady Quiverlips?" a familiar voice purred. Oh, no! That voice belonged to none other than Lord Guy Princely, the mostly legitimate Earl of Hottenpants. Heavens to Betsy, if she were caught buttling with him all alone in the panty, er, pantry her reputation would be deader than disco! Everyone knew of his delicious penchant for feeding young, robust maidens, and, also, of his love of stuffing and glazing them!

"N-no!" Chastity turned and gasped. As usual, the vision of his hand-carved spork unnerved her. And something else as well... a runny feeling of lust pulsated through her milkmakers at the very sight of his well-muscled hamhock. "I am expecting my self-restraint to join me at any moment," she quiverlipped.

"Nonsense!" said Lord Princely, princily. With nary a by-your-leave, he pulled Chastity into his manly bulge. "Finally, I have you within humping distance! Now, Chastity, I shall sugar coat you as I have always dreamed of! And, also, I shall tenderize you for good measure. You look like you could use a good tenderizing."

Her head spun dervishly in three wild directions at once. It was true - she could use a good tenderizing. But how did he know? The feel of his pestle on her mortar caused her cream sauce to spasm hotly. Never had her ladysauce spasmed so! Not even that one time, when a doctor had cured her hysteria, last March.

"Lord Princely! You must stop this simmering at once!" She pushed against his beefy frame to no avail. He was stronger than a Kardashian wrassling a dollar bill and beefcakier than a cake made of beef. "I shall never be your dessert!"

He laughed, the dark, chocolatey sound sending gulps down her gullett. "It is pointless to gulp, luscious Chastity. Never forget, I know all about the opinion you once almost had! I shall tell everyone your secret unless you let me lovingly lick your creamy twinkie. Haha! When I’m through savoring you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of Little Debbie!”

Shucks and drat! How did he know her secret? Chastity plotzed. Her poor, virginal HoHo might never recover from the sexy onslaught of Lord Princely’s Ding Dong.

 
On September 28, 2009 at 7:13 PM , Diamonique said...

Lady Chastity Quiverlips gasped at the sound of a backhoe behind her. "By the kitchens!" she exclaimed eruditely.

"All alone in the bucket, eh Lady Quiverlips?" a familiar voice purred. Oh, no! That voice belonged to none other than Lord Guy Princely, the dastardly Earl of Nastyborough. Heavens to Betsy, if she were caught fishing with him all alone in the zoo her reputation would be bronzed! Everyone knew of his flighty penchant for boxing young, unshod maidens, and, also, of his love of distractedly fire bombing them!

"N-no!" Chastity turned and gasped. As usual, the vision of his kneecaps bobbing unnerved her. And something else as well... a sequined feeling of justice pulsated through her pantyhose at the very sight of his well-muscled roast beef. "I am expecting my polka-dot to join me at any moment," she whined.

"Nonsense!" said Lord Princely, princelily. With nary a by-your-leave, he pulled Chastity into his manly 64 and a half Ford Mustang. "Finally, I have you cooking oysters! Now, Chastity, I shall fleetingly berate you as I have always dreamed of! And, also, I shall vent you for good measure. You look like you could use a good building."

Her head spun crushingly in three wild directions at once. It was true - she could use a good building. But how did he know? The feel of his tanktop on her dumptruck caused her fleecy shoes to spasm rufflingly. Never had her shoes spasmed so! Not even that one time, when a touopee had rubbed her llama, last March.

"Lord Princely! You must stop this judging at once!" She pushed against his dumpy frame to no avail. He was stronger than a bikini wrassling a fluffy plaque and beefcakier than a leather sialboat. "I shall never be your videotape!"

He laughed, the dark blue sound sending cravats down her chest hair. "It is pointless to stomp, luscious Chastity. Never forget, I know all about the headband you once filed drippingly! I shall tell everyone your secret unless you let me rush behind your creamy vest. Haha! When I’m through combing you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of George!”

Shucks and drat! How did he know her secret? Chastity pooped. Her poor, virginal highway might never recover from the sexy onslaught of Lord Princely’s toothy invoice.

 
On September 28, 2009 at 7:37 PM , Lucy Woodhull said...

OMG Diamonique!

Yours is the most Mad-Libbiest thus far, and for that I congratulate you!

And I have to say... biggest laugh of the day: "Chastity pooped." I am laughing more than is seemly.

 
On September 29, 2009 at 11:24 AM , Fellatia Langley said...

Lady Chastity Quiverlips gasped at the sound of a whisper behind her. "By the tomes!" she exclaimed softly.

"All alone in the Library, eh Lady Quiverlips?" a familiar voice purred. Oh, no! That voice belonged to none other than Lord Guy Princely, the Erstwhile Earl of Bigdickton. Heavens to Betsy, if she were caught perusing with him all alone in the sack-er-stacks her reputation would be dog-eared! Everyone knew of his penchant for tutoring young, nerdy maidens, and, also, of his love of masturbating while disciplining them!

"N-no!" Chastity turned and gasped. As usual, the vision of his rigid yardstick unnerved her. And something else as well... a curious feeling of heat pulsated through her spectacles at the very sight of his well-muscled bookworm. "I am expecting my period to join me at any moment," she dandled.

"Nonsense!" said Lord Princely, loudly. With nary a by-your-leave, he pulled Chastity into his manly mantitties. "Finally, I have you with books! Now, Chastity, I shall tantalizingly teach you as I have always dreamed of! And, also, I shall catalog you for good measure. You look like you could use a good cross-referencing."

Her head spun improbably in three wild directions at once. It was true - she could use a good cross-referencing. But how did he know? The feel of his manmammaries on her tweed caused her nearsighted orbs to spasm erotically. Never had her eyes spasmed so! Not even that one time, when an optometrist had examined her ladybits last March.

"Lord Princely! You must stop this instructing at once!" She pushed against his scholarly frame to no avail. He was stronger than a Librarian wrassling a book-munching toddler and beefcakier than a Mongolian cookbook. "I shall never be your pupil!"

He laughed, the dark sound sending Dewey-Decimels down her spine. "It is pointless to shelve, luscious Chastity. Never forget, I know all about the novel you once tore apart! I shall tell everyone your secret unless you let me rifle through your creamy pages. Haha! When I’m through thumbing you, you shan’t be called Chastity anymore, but will have to answer to the name of Thumbelina!”

Shucks and drat! How did he know her secret? Chastity succumbed. Her poor, virginal buns might never recover from the sexy onslaught of Lord Princely’s pointy pencil.

 
On September 30, 2009 at 8:12 PM , Lucy Woodhull said...

Although all of our players in this Mad, Mad Lib game were quite wondrous. There can only be one winner.

JulieD, I chose you! Yay! Contact me via my blog and I'll get your book to you! :)

 
On September 30, 2009 at 9:43 PM , JulieD said...

yippee! thanks so much!