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

But wait, there’s more. It’s not just stock images, I’m sad to say. And it’s not just Monster Thumb Girl either. Jill the awesome forwarded me some more examples of reused cover art.

This one kinda surprised me, too, because the minute I saw the first cover, I knew exactly where I’d seen it before.

Boy, the things you find when you search for “erotic romance” on Amazon.com or Google. Have fun, kids. One of the images is sort of Not Work Safe.

It’s been a while since we’ve blessed you (snort) with the Scandinavian (snort!) authenticity (SNORT!) of Viking romance covers. So here you have it: well over 400% of your RDA for Viking Romance Novel Covers.

Candy: My, what a large, proud, jutting...prow you have there. Not bad for a flamingly metrosexual Viking boy.

Sarah: “As the ship goes down, you must tell me...”
“Why your dress is hot pink under chainmail?”
“No… where...”
“...did you find Frost & Tip on the high Viking seas?”
“No… where...”
“...did I get this flowbee haircut?”
“No… where is the at-home wax kit you used on your chest? My beaver is barking!”

Candy: You know how I can tell he’s virile? Because he’s ready to smack the shit out of you with 40 pounds of forged steel if you don’t get him a sammich NOW, woman.

Sarah: Nothing says virile like a short leather skirt. Very short. So short the sun and the moon are out at the same time.

The next two images have exactly the same titles, but the difference in execution is...well. See for yourself.

Candy: Beloved? To whom? Purveyors of polar bear pelts? Clairol Born Blonde? Aquanet?

Sarah: Why is Beloved Viking standing in front of what looks like an adobe structure surrounded by wildflowers? And why is he wearing slices of apple around his neck?

Candy: Holy Chuck Norris lookalike, Batman! I guess that explains why 95% of all Viking fatalities were due to roundhouse kicks to the face.

Also: Ostriches? What the hell?

Sarah: Is “viking” another word for metrosexually swarthy ostrich farmer? Because if not, then what the fuck?

Our candidate for cover snark this week--a Leisure novel released in late January--has left us both speechless.

We’ve talked about when bad covers happen to good books, and when good covers happen to books that fail the 30, the 5, and the 1-page test.

Now, it’s a whole new chapter in cover snark: when the same cover happens to multiple books. Thanks to Jane and Barb Ferrer for this faaaabulous samples.

Sarah: She doesn’t look sexy. She looks mean crazy scary. Not insane scary, like she’s going to take off her stiletto heel and drive it into your eyeball, or funny scary when you’re laughing on the out-breath and gasping in fear on the in-breath. Mean crazy scary, where you don’t take your eyes off her while she’s in the same room with you. Regardless of whether she’s representing fictional sex or actual sex, I wouldn’t hit that with a ten foot pole. She looks like she wants to murder dalmation puppies for a full-length coat.

Candy: She doesn’t just look like Cruella De Vil’s hipster daughter. The way she’s holding the underwear like they’re exotic artifacts from an unfamiliar culture or a choice of weapon ("Death by snu snu? Or death by ploot ploot?") gives me the impression she’s some sort of alien from a planet where the sentient life forms look like praying mantises masquerading as a human. She does seem to be a biting-heads-off-while-engaged-in-the-rumpy-pumpy sort.

Sarah: Suspense! Erotica! Nothing says both or either like Jennifer Love Hewitt in magenta. Magenta automatically makes anything, even the Ghost Whimperer, erotically suspenseful. Or suspensefully erotic. Or neither.

Candy: She’s thinking: Is he using Altoids? Or good-old fashioned Lifesavers? I CAN’T TELL.

He’s thinking: Boobs. BOOBS. HOLY SHIT BOOBS.

Sarah: And then there are the cover images and titles that don’t get used nearly enough. A weed-whacked treasure trail and the words “seasonal wind.” There’s so much comedy I can barely breathe.

Candy: Chili season is the unkindest season of all.