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So I'm reading this book that has a lot of purple prose and it made me think of the Purple Prose Parody Contest at AAR. So I went back and read of my favorite parodies (see below) and I thought you might get a laugh at it. :)
Purple Prose as written by Blythe Barnhill as an homage to Mary Jo Putney, Jo Beverley, and Stephanie Laurens:
"Darling," Samantha purred, "I am just so blissfully happy. I never dreamed that a poor governess like myself would marry a handsome, brooding earl and provide him with twin boys, all within a year." She nestled further into the covers and stroked her beloved husband, Rex, on his hindquarters.
"Ah, I'm not brooding anymore, love. I've finally realized that my evil first wife didn't typify all women, and I've even managed to forget all those men who died under my command during the Peninsular War. And to think all I needed was great sex. Who knew?"
"Now darling, don't forget our long conversations and our stimulating chess games. It's not all sex. And we can look forward to a lifetime of blissful happiness in each other's arms. There's only one problem - the readers. I just feel so sorry for them."
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Samantha explained, "Here we sit in spectacular connubial bliss, and after they heard our long and exciting love story they don't really get to enjoy it, or even see us again. How will they know that we still love each other when we're fifty and have ten strapping boys?"
Rex chuckled. "Samantha, I thought you knew! They'll see us again and again. And again and again. Always blissfully happy, always expecting another child. Haven't you noticed my six friends? The author still has six more books to write, and we'll appear in all of them. Your job is to give future heroines advice about how to get a confirmed rake to commit, and my job is to listen while my friends get drunk off their butts at Whites because they can't face the fact they're falling in love. We also get to show up at the nick of time when they couple du jour is in danger. It'll be fun!"
"But Rex! Isn't that dangerous?"
"Only if the author is Marsha Canham. Our authors just trot us out for show. No one seriously believes anyone good will get hurt."
"Oh, I think I get it. You and your friends will come in and save the day while the evil villain is taking the time to explain his plot and reasons for wanting to kill the couple! That's what happened with us. I have to admit I was wondering why seven muscular men were needed to stop one effeminate villain."
Rex gave Samantha's rear end a little pat. "Well, that's how the reader gets to know all the Hounds and get excited about hearing all of their stories."
"Oh, didn't I tell you, love? My friends and I all met at Harrow. We were all rich noblemen who felt sorry for ourselves for some reason, so we formed a tight-knit group and bonded for life. We called ourselves the Harrowing Hounds of Hell. I would die for any of them, but I'm sure it won't come to that."
Rex barked playfully. "That's because our names all sound like dogs, sweeting. There's me, Rex, of course, and Benjamin "Benji," Earl of Arfington, Wolf St. Bernard, Skip (Sir Fido), and Phillip "Spot" Dalmashon."
"But what about your other friend Michael? The one who is so urbane and conniving? I can't wait to meet the woman who can teach him some new tricks."
"Oh, Michael is the Duke of Ruffgar. Everyone is waiting for Ruffgar."
Samantha rose from bed and put on her wrapper. "Well, I guess this explains why all of you have little black ears sewn onto the back of your capes. But don't you think it's a little silly for grown men to have a club with a name like that?"
Rex glanced at Samantha, his confusion evident in his eyes. "Well honey, you have to join a club like that when you go to school. If you aren't a Rogue or a Fallen Angel or part of the Bar Cynster, then you'd better be a Harrowing Hound, Flying Baboon, or Cock of the Walk. Otherwise you'll get your butt kicked by the T-Birds, Panthers, or Slithering Serpents of Perdition. I'm surprised you didn't have clubs like this at Miss Sally's School for Attractive Governesses."
Smiling fondly, Samantha stroked Rex's head. "It must be a guy thing, darling. I guess I can live with it. I do have one suggestion, though." Samantha blushed prettily, whispered into Rex's ear, and climbed back into their imposing bed.
Rex growled as he arose from the bed. His splendidly naked form was already in a state of rampant arousal. His black-eared cloak was right where he had left it, and he grinned with a canine leer as he put the hood over his head. He let out a "Rrrruff!" - and pounced on the bed.
The "in death" parodies are awesome, too. My favorite is the Eve character yelling at the Roarke character for trying to give her consective orgasms. "Gimme a second - don't you know anything about women?!"
I particularly liked:
I have to admit I was wondering why seven muscular men were needed to stop one effeminate villain.
I guess this explains why all of you have little black ears sewn onto the back of your capes.