Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

Hey kids,

So, how was your Halloween? Have a good time? Consume a lot of candy? Ready to see that candy make a return appearance? Then click on the extended text, motherfuckers!

We hurt because we love. And we place beneath the fold because HOLY SHIT, NOT WORK SAFE.

Lady Rhian’s scanner is keeping track of how many eyeball searing images it has to scan in, and it’s going to rise up like the robots in Terminator and decide our fate in a nanosecond. That fate will likely involve a lot of mullets. But until then, we are in Lady R’s debt. Because damn.

Sarah: Who came up with this series title? The same people who advertise monster truck rallies on the radio?

“SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY with POWER POWER POWER.  It’s Ecstasy Supreme GEEZER SEX! The old man scrumpin’ is so good, you won’t notice a shipwreck happening RIGHT BEHIND YOU!”

Candy: Unknown fact: Tempestuous Eden is actually the guy’s drag queen sobriquet. He’s moving his hand slowwwwly up her so he can rip off her panties...for himself.

Also, where’s the woman’s right arm? Given the angle of the shoulder, we should be able to see it. Is she a Thalidomide baby?

Sarah: You’d think this was a purple prose-laden novel about grapes and sex, but no. It’s actually a paranormal inspired by the Tooms episodes of the X-Files, only instead of stealing livers, Eugenia there steals boobs. See how she sucks the breasteses out of Mr. Tangled Mullet Wearing Cop Pants, and harvests his man titty for her very very own? Frightening beyond belief, I tell you. Gives me the shivers.

Candy: This educational maverick is sacrificing himself in order to demonstrate to us this age-old question: How do you teach a blind person anatomy?

Sarah: This might qualify for The Cover that Snarks Itself. What, pray tell, is Mightier than the Sword? Her perm? His very tight pants? Or my suspicion that he’s about to toss her chemically processed booty right into that fire?

Candy: What’s Mightier than the Sword? Her Aquanet, that’s what. Why do you think he seems so intent on fox-trotting her into the fireplace? He stands to inherit, and hairspray is VERY flammable.

Sarah: Little known trivia: The artist misheard the title during the art meeting. He thought it was “Wide are My Shoulders.”

Candy: Wild is their love. Savage is their wax job. Orange is their fake tan. Helmet-like is his hairstyle. Caked-on is her make-up. 

From the Fish in a Damn Barrel department, we have oily mantitty holding translucent melons - aka, the coming-soon listings for Ellora’s Cave. Man. Too many melons, too many man titty. The mind, it boggles.

I hope there are no small, urm, caves in those melons, considering where most of the models are positioning their jack o’lanterns.

From Lovelien we have the following two fabulous submissions. And by submissions we mean… oh never mind.

Sarah: There is no doubt that this fool met Fortune, received one wish, and said, “I want to be bigger.” Only he didn’t specify where. That man could lactate. In fact, he might be doing so now.

Candy: The only thing that can outshine his man-titty is his bling. Seriously, look at that fucking gold chain. It’s bigger than my thumb! As Sarah’s hubby noted, if he lived in New Jersey, his name would almost definitely be Tony. Or maybe Ant’ny. Not Anthony. Ant’ny.

Candy: Remember back when Björk did that dead swan dress thing? Oh, that kooky Björk. It was horrifying, but kinda cute--which, when it comes down to it, is a pretty nifty encapsulation of Björkishness.

Somebody needs to tell this dude that it’s just horrifying and not even remotely cute when he does it with a) tapeworms, and b) wears it on his head.

Sarah: If the bleached out, glued on, polyester dreadlocks didn’t make you snort, the cover text will sneak in and spank your eyeballs till they begs for the mercy. Golden seduction? King of CUPS? I need to go lie down now. That’s just too much.

Lovelien suggests that the look they were trying for was along the lines of Jason Momoa:

And let’s be honest. If he were on erotica covers? I’d have to add on to my house to find room for them all. Because DAMN. *fans self*

And from Rachel we have this fine work of… something:

Sarah: From the “Obscenely Obvious Art Department” we have this brainfart of a cover. With three strings of pearls. Come on now! String of pearls?! Why not just call the book “Here be lots of sex and jism!”

Sadly, given the baby face, giant cranium, and muscular bulk of dude #1, I’m not sure the ‘roids will allow him to achieve gem production. There ain’t nothing spicy in his briefs.

Rachel says her favorite part is “the guy in the background who seems to be saying, “So, uh, guys? Threesome? Right? I mean, you said we were having a threesome tonight, so I just figured...no, it’s cool. I’ll wait.”

She’s right - he doesn’t look romantic or even sexy. He looks annoying like that guy who always wanted to copy your answers for the health test.

Candy: Egad! Never has a potential threesome looked more vanilla and boring. Any minute now, the guys are going to attempt to jockey for the anal sex position because they’ve never...you know...put it there before. And then their penises will accidentally touch. And then they’ll laugh nervously and continue with their business, but secretly, they’ll always wonder if that brief inter-penis touch made them gay.