The Perilous World

Waiting alone in the frost-blue frock he had so often praised, with the sprightly piping of the Vicar’s flageolet wafting in from outside, Serena thought once more of Reginald Fortescue, the man who had taught her how to feel. He was now, according to persistent rumours, away again on safari.

Then came a confused chorus of greetings from the courtyard, and she dropped the brimming wine glass heedlessly on the rug. He was here! “Even the crafty Luiz couldn’t keep me from you, beloved!” he murmured in that unforgettable hypnotic drawl, signalling his porters to withdraw, and as he slid the little ring onto her finger, she vowed never again to do anything spiteful, foolish or immature.

When you’ve had all of our Afflicted Love Quiz that you can handle, this is definitely the place to be. The fast-paced romance narrative above — thrilling, taut, coherent, imaginative, and ultimately human though it surely is — is the work of no human author. In fact, it was written in real — starkly real — time, by what used to be called a “soulless machine”. One might think that literature so sensitive and insightful must surely have come from the quill of a poet, not the unfeeling circuits of a digital device. Well, think again. Romance Writer is on the job. Reload page for a new story.