'Come on, you know the type. The heroine is innocent, virginal, and utterly bland. Her name is something ultra-feminine like "Melantha". She ends up swept off her feet by a dashing man named something macho like "Hawk" or "Wolf". Now, this Hawk guy is the sort of man we'd run away from in a dark alley. He's ill-tempered, violent, promiscuous, and sometimes even a rapist. But his "dangerousness" excites Melantha, and so, after a couple of obstacles, they have steamy sex (usually described in such flowery prose that you can't figure out what's going on.) Then they get married, and the book usually ends with Melantha joyfully telling her new husband that she's pregnant. But those of us who live in the real world know how this story ends. They'll be in divorce court in a year. Melantha will dump Hawk when his habit of undressing her with his claymore gets old, or Hawk will run off with the next "sweet young thing" when childbearing adds a few pounds to Melantha's figure. After all, he usually only loves her for her flawless beauty. What kind of romance is this?'