I swear this is the last post I'll write about our recent wedding, but I really need to show you one of our wedding presents, so bear with me*.
Both Jane and I love books. We've got a book room and heaving great shelves of books all over the flat. So much so that our wedding invitation was sent out in the form of a hackneyed Mills and Boon romance.
This one, in fact, a classic title from the 1980s, where the heroines were spunky and rich old men were the kind of person you wouldn't like to meet on a dark night.
And the tale of the curly-haired brunette heroine (described, I am told, as "ginger spunk") forced into an unwilling relationship with her much older uncle reached its tumultuous climax with this knee-trembling paragraph of what might be called prose.
Yep, the old charmer loved her so much, he wanted to rape her, and they lived happily ever after. A tale of messed-up morality if ever I saw one.
And Neil Gaiman says there's no such thing as a bad book for children. I beg to differ, sir. I think the kiddiewinks need to be spared this one.
(The author is one of M & B's most prolific, it turns out, with over 100 titles to her name. I'll be charitable and say that we caught her on an off day)
* No, there really is a bear with me and AAAAAAAARGH