Harlequin to publish NASCAR romance novels.


Following in that premise.... Here's the start of a 914 Romance novel. Please add to this.. but remember, we need to keep it PG-13 here.


Chapter 1.



"It was a dark and stormy night. Flakes of rust floated languidly through the air, redolent with the heady scent of dripping motor oil. After spinning aimlessly for a few seconds, the rust fluttered down and gently caressed her flowing Malaga Red tresses as the hypnotizing spray of sparks flew from his trusty grinder. His powerful forearms strained against the mighty pull of the 1HP motor..."

Well he knew the pain he was causing her as the aggrate wheel bit into the now yielding metal. Soon, it would be over, the pain, the agony of shredding her skin till the brightness of new metal could be seen. It was his hope that this renewal would be viewed by her as a step to a long future for her. He sensed her anticipation of being rid of the cancer and the loving movement she would transfer to his inner being in the coming days and years.

He lifted her skirt and, to his horror, saw the rust that accumulated up in her virgin hell-hole, from years of damp moister & neglect...he held his nose as he dove down there, knowing full well it was up to him to lick the problem now, while she was jacked up...

QUOTE (sherman1 @ Mar 30 2006, 02:18 PM)

he held his nose as he dove down there, knowing full well it was up to him to lick the problem now

In the gutter in only three posts!!

AND THEN, Godzilla stepped on her and all her attendants, squishing them like the bugs they had become...

Yes!! Every good romance novel needs godzilla.

We used to do something similar back in middle school. Except we would write two lines, cover up the first line, and pass the note on. You stop at your allotted two lines, even if it's in the middle of a sentence. So the next person only has the last line you wrote to go off of, and they get to finish your sentence. I don't know how you do that on a forum setup though. Good idea, Clay. Too bad all you guys think about is car porn!

Jen

To his surprise SHE WAS ALIVE !!! Her perky 1.7 was heaving ....

......in total shock, he backed off, coughing and spitting from the overwhelming stench and taste of years of packed organic material he had removed from the hole only to find it prolapsed and buldging with pesticules of the dreaded cancerous growth.....

QUOTE

Too bad all you guys think about is car porn

But, there's no back seat so we gotta do it all in the front...

Once he left, like all mistresses she feels lonely at night. Bound and suspended on a set of steel shafts she feels the cold air roll around here body. She looks at her pieces set about and boxed like a donor cadaver. She longs for the day when she was young and vibrant again. She remembers the days of ole, when she would chase down cars with twice the horse power and leave them behind looking at her tail. She like them looking at her tail as she swung it through corner after corner until they could see her no more. She would have to wait for a long stretch of road, where quite frankly she got really board, so the game could be a foot again. They would blast past here just to prove they where more macho, she knew she would see them soon enough. After all even at LeMan's the straight has to end. Sure enough she would be right back at them taunting their every tenacious move just trying to stay ahead of this sure footed vixen. Suddenly the lights came on and all at once she felt her lovers hands caressing her door, slowing opening it and sliding inside of her. She felt him fumble for the keys, and all of the sudden they where sharing the same dream. Both of them where out on a sunny day. Driving with her top off, wind whipping around sun warming the senses. When reality set it, she heard the garage door open. The familiar
purr of the flat six motor, thou it was odd, it did not sound right. It was muffled, by the water diet it was on. Sure it was a nice looking car, but it had nothing over her. She felt her lover leave to greet this, this boxster. Jealousy flew over her, she wanted to show the other what she could do but alas that would have to wait for another time or place. A deep dark depression set over her, as darkness fell, she was alone again, waiting, logging, and hoping for her day in the sun.

Godzilla returned to his slumber in the mud of Tokyo Bay, waiting once again for an accidental spill of plutonium to rain down upon him and wake him to once again plunder inexpensive sports cars.

Meanwhile, the shattered remains of the short-lived 914 lay crushed. A dangling headlight blinked on and off as it rocked too and fro, arcing and sparking as the battery gave up its final surge. But wait.... a buzz could be heard getting louder and louder. No, it wasn't a group of "angry lawnmowers"....NO... the straining sounds of several type IVs were getting louder and louder. Now a second sound. Doors slamming (and window glass slapping against old, worn out, inflexible seals...)

The sounds of mulitiple footsteps, men jostling and pushing each other. They step over and ignore the crushed human bodies and approach the wreck..... NO, it can't be.....

NO.....

IT's a Sawzall Party!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh the humanity.......

......as every left coaster plugged to devour her lifeless body, a faint cry could be heard. Muffled sounds to the left coasters, the cry became louder and louder as the shadow approached those gathered...OMG a chrous of cries went up...it's the dreaded Right Coaster Body Snatcher here to save her from the tearing teeth. I say unto you all, "Do not sever one piece from her fading body lest you fall under my wrath. We shall deliver her from this evil Left place and take her to be nutured in the Right place where she belongs. Stand back and lower your saws before the almightly presense of the Right Coaster Body Snatcher.".............

So with a whine of the winch the desecrated carcass was hauled onto the tandem axle trailer towed by 6 matching long haired goats......

The goat herder cried On Weenie, On Douchebag, On Apha, On Beta....with a grunt and a snarl they leaned into the harness as.....

QUOTE ("*" @ Mar 30 2006, 03:05 PM)

So with a whine of the winch the desecrated carcass was hauled onto the tandem axle trailer towed by 6 matching long haired goats...... The goat herder cried On Weenie, On Douchebag, On Apha, On Beta....with a grunt and a snarl they leaned into the harness as.....

ROFL!! Classic.

From back in the weeds they lerk....The group of tail draggers new what needed to be done. They must kill her. She can't be allowed to live. " One less of them to deal with..She must die" The sun would be up soon back to ther caves till night approaches again....

Chapter 3:

I'm hurt! Touch me. I always liked that smell. Reminds me of happier days. We're late, as usual. That familiar sound. The pain makes me feel whole again.
Mark my words, there will be no happy ending ...

nineforteenerson said, "How's that crop of freshman porsches this year?"

"Nineforteenerson, You're going to end up in jail real soon..."

"That's what I like about these freshman Porshes man" nineforteenerson said as he smiled, "I get older and they stay the same age....yes they do!"

have we hit bottom yet...

ummmm ya, a few times..

as.....A maniac in spandex lept out of the shadows and lisped......Thay....those are my goaths......here, take these Coronian slave boys and haul that crappy piece of steel to the east coast.....

A brave and stoic man, he had never before let himself become this vulnerable. Her smooth body was so firm, her interior so soft and inviting she left him little choice. One by one the belts were attached, the final one constraining his bulging manhood until he could barely breathe.

‘Are you sure this last belt is necessary?’ he whimpered. She smiled knowingly, but said nothing as he blipped her throttle. They left pit lane in company of other, lesser lovers, and headed for the first turn. He was firm, but gentle as her lower anatomy warmed to the task at hand. Soon they left the mundane pack as he found he could push harder without losing control. And she begged for more.

Soon they were faster, further, and deeper than any pair who have ventured along this path before. The belts, designed to constrain, only heightened the feeling of total abandon. The crescendo rose until they reached that mutual orgasmic experience. They held on as long as they dared and found the elusive ‘G’ spot.. Hitting peak torque and a late apex together, they screamed into high desert sky, knowing this would be the first of many that day.

I think I'm going to throw up.

(and no, it's not from the G's)

Jen

QUOTE (Jenny @ Mar 30 2006, 05:00 PM)

I think I'm going to throw up. (and no, it's not from the G's) Jen

Jen, that's harsh. I worked pretty hard on this. A very attractice young lady racer (who will remain nameless) told me guys like racing because the elation of nailing apexes repeatedly is as close as they will ever get to multiple orgasms.

What's your take on this?

Sounds about right.

I'll have what she's having.

Jen

And suddenly as the ecstacy came, it was over. There was first a gurgle, then a gasp and then a horrible banging noise and all was silent. Unfastening the straps, he got up and looked at the massive wetness underneath................................

But just then he looked up, over in the bushes he saw the pack of 911s waiting to drag her now thrashed carcass to the grave. But one broke from the pack thirsting for the blood he saw all over the grass. Our hero sprang to life with a ratchet in one hand and a set of jack stands in the other. Before the 911 realized what happened it was in the air faster than a Nascar pit stop. Parts flew everywhere and the 911 still beating heart was on its way to her. Our hero just scored himself another 911 kill, this time to save the life of his love.

He eased into her slowly. The smell of leather, heady. Her scent delicious. With a deep throaty growl she shuddered as he teased her and worked her steadly into a faster pace. Thrashing wildly beneath his masterful control she moaned eagerly...

Oh what a mess she exclaimed as the rubber gave way to leakage from his final push, damn rod tube he muttered. Or was the leaking from somewhere higher as she climbed off of him. After closer inspection.........

After closer inspection of her dark and smoky hole, he noticed a dropped valve seat had made mincemeat of her thrusting piston. He grabbed his sawzall and approached her menacingly. "Wait she cried...."

Then he rolled over and fell asleep....

but the sound of dripping oil awoke him...

How about....

"There once was a 914 from Nantucket..."?

There once was a teener from Nantucket
Who found so much rust he said F-it
The new owners did mods
sheetmetal and titanium rods
Now shes a knockout
A real money bucket

QUOTE (r_towle @ Mar 31 2006, 02:45 PM)

There once was a teener from Nantucket Who found so much rust he said F-it The new owners did mods sheetmetal and titanium rods Now shes a knockout A real money bucket

No kidding. Ti rods, huh.

Well. There you have it.




I'm not qualified to add anything to the romance novel. All the girls that I've ever slept with were in need of some serious camber adjustment.

Sounds like yer micrometer is outta adjustment.

QUOTE ("*" @ Mar 31 2006, 08:52 PM)

Sounds like yer micrometer is outta adjustment.

My micrometer is fine. It's my indicol that doesn't work right. You have to fiddle with it to get the cantilever to move right without pushing the rest of the assembly out of wack. Solution: more lube.

Anyway, everyone knows you use fishing line and calipers to set camber/toe.

Did you mean to say "camel toe"?

All I have are 6-inch digital calipers. You need 8 inch or bigger to properly handle camel toe.

Hey!! Back to the story!! I haven't seen a good romance vehicle/novel in 18 months!! I am on the edge here!! My oil is boiling!! Reving High as well!! LET ME WORK ON MY CHOKE!!!!!!

You guys are about as bad as everyone at my work.. but were mainly about "taco's" and "burrito's"

not that I ever say anything...


sorry.. Continue..