Nothing is as romantic as a stalker love story!

"To Walk Alone"
Romantic Stories
Charlton Comics
Cover Art by Art Cappello
Story Art by Charles Nicholas & Vince Alascia
Number 126
1973

Okay, so I hadn't actually planned to do this story when I grabbed this particular Romantic Story this morning. I had actually planned to do the cover story but PLEASE passing up a stalker story is just too much to ask. They just make me so happy.

Before you worry yourself about what nightmare inducing images might be found in this stalker story you should know that there are actually three kinds of stalkers, and not all scenarios end with you chained in a disused bomb shelter secreted under an above ground swimming pool.

Type One: The kind that creepily watch you, stages accidental run ins and eventually kills you or tries to kill someone to impress you.

Type Two: The kind that creepily watches you, stages accidental run ins and eventually is found in your closet trying on your clothes and you are forced to call the police.

Type Three: The kind that creepily watches you, stages accidental run ins and you inexplicably end up spending the weekend dancing with them in a gay club in Southern Ohio, crashing in the same hotel room with a little voice in your head telling you that it probably isn't the best idea to share the same same bed with them no matter how casual or numerous her offers, so instead stay awake as long as you can by watching People Under the Stairs a little concerned that you might be awoken in a previously unplanned manner.

I am most intimately familiar with type three and feel secure in saying that this story falls safely somewhere between the last two.

Before we begin I just have to say that I totally want this first outfit. If that yellow raincoat and those boots are shiny plastic or patent leather (my personal kryptonite) I am SO there.

Anyway, with To Walk Alone we meet Tracy Rankin a recently jilted city girl with a fab scents of style and the legs to pull of a killer pair of boots. We can only guess that Arther, her previous fiance, realized he was gay. I mean look at her. Assuming she isn't stupid even I'd hit that!

Rule number one: When you think you are being followed please don't take the time to ask. So maybe she is kind of stupid but still you can't have everything.

After questioning the large man behind her, she discovers it is actually her upstairs neighbor and that he was following her. But he was following her to keep her safe. Which, of course, is what all stalkers say.

But even though Dennis tells her she is beautiful, a compliment she soaks up like a Bounty Paper Towel, the following evening she heads out alone again.

Like any stalker worth his salt, Dennis is waiting for her outside.

And, even though Dennis is obviously a TOTAL stalker, Tracy agrees to go out with him. I guess we shouldn't be too hard on her. Dennis is a red head, and, as a fake red head (most days) since I was seventeen, I can assure you we are irresistible.

Dennis takes Tracy to a nice restaurant and the dates goes wonderfully. In fact in goes better than all the dates he had ever fantasized about while weaving potholders from the hair he secretly collected from her hair brush.

Okay, Jonnie Love leads me to believe that in 1973 steaks could only be afforded by the very rich. Does Tracy think money grows on trees? I don't know how much this stalker gig pays, but I don't think she should assume it pays steak money.

Dinner at Tracy's house seems to go even better. It goes well enough that Dennis feels it is time to tell Tracy that he loves her. Oddly Tracy's tears are not because she is afraid he is going to kill her and wear her skin as a suit.

Wow, Dennis's timing could not have been better. Rebound girl is CRAZY!

Wow, that relationship moved even faster than the relationship between me and my husband. I may have been the stalker in that scenario but he was first with the I love you.

First Impressions - Comics I just had to buy.

With my husband working nights again I decided to do a quick search through my ever growing romance comic collection for something to post and quite frankly I just couldn't decide. There were just way too many covers that sold me on the book before I even opened its pages.

First impressions are everything. And that is doubly true for romance.

It. Is. Everything. I can not stress that enough.

I remember once meeting the mother of a man I was dating only to have her eyes rake me from tights to t-shirt and say "So, how old is she?" A question she didn't even both to direct to me. Perhaps I should have upgraded my jean cut offs for a skirt or something because she, obviously, was not impressed. And I'm awesome!

My husband once threw-up on a first date. Yep, and he wasn't even drunk! Did he get a second date? I don't remember for sure, but I am guessing no.

Then of course, coming at it from the other side, I once had a guy try to pick me up at a club who had, no more than three weeks early, tried for 20 minutes to grope me in a mosh pit and was saved only by the fact that eventually some gigantic would-be-viking man decided that I fell under his protection. Was I not supposed to remember that? Well I did. Woman remember EVERYTHING.

Good or bad, you only have one shot at a first impressions. Just like in life, a comic also has only moments to sell you on it value. In my opinion, the following did their job. And did it well.

(Time For Love #20, 1972. Cover artist unknown)

I'm not sure what the misunderstanding is but if it involves cage dancing, I'm in!

(Just Married # 86, 1972. Cover artist unknown)

I like how her husband's thrown out arm, with its pushed up sleeve, imply that the guy must shoot up with heroine or something. I'll let you in on a little secret ... it's LSD.

(Sweethearts # 123, 1972. Cover artist unknown)

We all know how much woman hate a man who has an island! This cover makes me what to buy it AND feed that woman a sandwich.

(Young Love # 119, Dec./Jan 1975, 76'. Cover artist Art Saaf?)

I hope when one of my sons goes to prison (because there's no doubt really) that they have a good woman to love them.

(Secret Romance # 29, 1974. Cover artist Art Cappello)

I'm just plain drawn to the gentleman with graying hair who seems to be having a rather elaborate internal dialog about that couple making out in public. What does he know that we don't?

(Secret Romance # 23, Dec./Jan 1973. Cover artist Art Cappello)

I think the blind, even the temporarily blind, should be more often represented in comics.

(Time For Love # 23, 1971. Cover artist by Art Cappello)

Like a dream come true. Another blind guy. Apparently women with low self-esteem love to score with the visually impaired.

(Romantic Story # 126, 1973. Cover artist by Art Cappello)

If he can't be blind, he can at least be dead. She seems more upset that she already paid for the honeymoon than she does that her man is dead. Just to prove that I'm right, I'll let you know she hooks up before the end of the trip.

Now, aren't you just dying for me to post these stories? I thought so.

That is SO not the most important part of a relationship.

"Apron Strings"
Charlton Comics
Just Married
Art: Art Cappello
Number 107
1975

Anyone who has ever told you that the most important thing in a relationship is communication is either a fool or a liar.

The only time communication is even a close second is when you are giving specific directions on the first.

In Apron Strings we meet a newly wed Vikki Driscoll whose husband doesn't seem to understand this basic truth. But it is pretty obvious that his mother does and will do just about anything she can to stop that horrible strumpet Vikki from deflowering her son.

It didn't look like poor Vikki had much of a chance against Mother Driscoll whose plan of attack was multi-faceted.

She may not have been able to stop her son Carl from marrying but she could certainly hinder his love life by working overtime to fatten Vicki up.

And, just as critical to the plan to destroy Vikki's dream of gettin' some, fattening up her son.

Nothing cripples the libido like a large snack before bedtime and Mother Driscoll knew it.

Mother Driscoll: 1 - Vikki: 0

Mother Driscoll's next move was to keep her son and his new whore too busy to even steal a moment alone. Busy with joyous family gatherings and, when absolutely necessary, with tragedy born of her own hands.

It wasn't long before the strain was just too much for poor Vikki to bear and soon the strain began to leak out into her only free moments with Carl.

And Carl, unaware of what was really lacking in his life, starting filling the void with other things.

And the seed of discontent planted by Mother Driscoll began to take on a life of its own.

Until it nearly destroyed everything Vikki was fighting for. A chance to make it with her lawfully wedded husband.

But even when all things appeared to be turning around, like Pavlov's dog, Carl's desires seem to trigger another kind of hunger.

So Vikki made one last desperate attempt to interest his husband in sex. The old standby, dirty movies. But even that didn't work out as she would have liked.

Vikki was beaten. She she was giving up. She just needed to tell Mother Driscoll that she had won.

If Carl could obtain all he needed from food, so could she.

Vikki's surrendered brought the approval of the entire family. But it also seemed to remind Carl why he had married her in the first place.

Maybe Vicki WILL finally get to third base!