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AAR’s Purple Prose Parody

AAR has posted the winner of the Purple Prose Parody — the job application for a romance novel heroine. That was my second choice; I voted for Romeo and Juliet Wear Prada.

Here’s my entry, with typos corrected:

The Red Stiletto Sisterhood

I am Beyotch, fiercest of the Vampire, member of the Red Stiletto Sisterhood.** With my band of warrior-priestess sisters – Whench, Skankh, Harhpie, Tsukabus, and Piszed-offe — I protect our shrinking population.

Protect our vanishing kind from what? From fashion faux pas and the depredations of mere mortal human women – lesser beings who somehow keep attracting the attentions of vampire males. Dark Hunters ™ have fallen to their lures. Carpathians ™ have fallen to their lures as well. All around us in the romance genre, vampire tribes fall prey to them, leaving the female vampires alone and unmated.

It is a brutal, thankless task that my sisters and I undertake, protecting the weak flank of our people, but someone must do it. And do it with style. We have done so for nearly two centuries, and our mothers did so before us. For two hundred years, we have fought a losing battle, watching our men forsake vampire-kind for those useless humans. Leaving vampire women unmated, unbonded and unbearably horny. For what human man can possibly measure up to a vampire stud? The superior strength and stamina of a vampire are required in order to fully satisfy a female of our kind. Our men seem able to cross-breed without problem, but such is not the case for our women.

For years my place in the Sisterhood as fiercest warrior has been assured — for I am a true monster. When I feel extremes of emotion – pain, rage, jealousy, desire – my Beast emerges, a chimera, a dragon, a creature so fierce that even my sisters cringe before her. And she can only be satisfied by two things: theobroma (food of the gods — chocolate for you cretinous humans) and coitus vampirus (vampire sex, duh). How did the Beast come to be? It is a long, sad tale. The short version is that I presumed to issue a fashion citation to the Mother of All Things Chic. In her outraged offense for being penalized by a lesser vampire, the Mother laid upon me the Beast. And so I have endured, always at risk of transforming, of releasing the Beast.

Even after two hundred years of combating them, I never really understood how the males could betray us so – the humans were so . . . puny, so short-lived, so boring. Until –

I was out hunting, seeking a particularly vile specimen (a vampire-hunter who had recently turned into a supernatural in her own right, dangling her would-be charms before vamps and weres alike) in a club she was known to frequent when I was distracted. I was bored, tired of the perpetual work and the greed of humans; exhausted by the press of humanity (you sprawl so! And waste space.) When I caught a scent that distracted me, a scent that grabbed my attention and riveted it. Mmmmm. What was that smell? Gun oil. Bulgari cologne. And something else tantalizing. But from whom was the delicious smell emanating? I couldn’t sense any vamps nearby. But the scent was close. Mmmm. My fangs lengthened. My vampire hormones flooded my veins.

I followed the scent through the club, out the back to the parking lot. Imagine my shock, indeed the horror, when I found the scent coming from a human. A human male, armed to the teeth, preparing to enter a black SUV. Close trimmed black hair, mocha latte skin, accompanied by a large black man built like a tank and a woman –hiss!- with blue eyes and curly brown hair.

Human! Attracted to a human! How could I be so betrayed by my senses!?! Attracted to the enemy, the infidel.

Teased by the scent of him, my hormones were raging. Mind frozen, dumb-founded, I stood in the alley as the SUV pulled away. The Beast surged, aching for release.

Dear goddess, the agony . . . the betrayal.

I have been paralyzed by desire and by disgust in the hours that have elapsed. I must find him. But how can I betray my Sisterhood and seek out a mere human? What will mating with him to do my status? Will my Sister card be revoked? Will he even be able to keep up with me? Will I be able to locate him again? I must, even if I have to track him down by scent alone.

**Not to be confused with the Blue-Tooth ™ Sisterhood, those vampires charged with dragging our people into the 21st century in terms of technology.

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Ack!

I just read my PPP entry and found several typos. Some were my fault because I didn’t proof read closely enough. But it also looks like the (TM) mark that Word uses did not cut and paste cleanly; it shows up only as a “T” in the text. Oh well . . .

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Woo hoo!

My entry into AAR’s Purple Prose Parody is finished! It’s handwritten, so I have to type it. I know, that’s so archaic, but I write better with pen and ink than at a keyboard. For fiction anyway.

So this evening’s plan is to submit it to AAR.

ETA: Done. Off to AAR and out of my control.

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PPP

I had a flash of inspiration — an idea for AAR’s purple prose parody. I’ve never written anything for it before, but thought I’d give it a try. But now that I have the idea, I’m not sure what to do. My writing is work-related, and those bulletins, letters, instructions, etc. aren’t exactly creative fiction ;). I have no Muse and I’m floundering about what to do with my idea now.

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