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

Some of our readers wondered if we’d create a special edition of Covers Gone Wild wherein instead of bitching long and hard about covers featuring Lord Mantitte, his immaculate wax-job and his patron saint, Our Lady of the Perpetual Wardrobe Malfunction, we’d discuss the cream of the crop, the best of the best, the covers that actually make us stop and say “Ooooh, pretty!” instead of making us want to claw our eyes out and pray for a swift, merciful death once we gaze upon them. In short: romance novel covers that DON’T suck unwashed, sweaty monkey ass.

We hear, and we obey. This week, I, Candy, will show you some of the covers I really, really like. You’ll notice that most of these don’t feature any men. It’s not that I’m a closet lesbian--not that there’s anything wrong with that--it’s just that most male romance cover models leave me cold. It’s more than their faces, because even the bare torso shots leave me going “meh,” and I like rock-hard abs just as much as anyone else. I think it’s very likely the cheesecake factor. Cheescake is tasty to eat, but not particularly tasty for mine eyes.

For instance, if the cover for Mr. Impossible hadn’t been such a hideous, iridescent pink, I would’ve included it in this list because it gets a lot of other things right: the half-smile, the pose, the period costume, and the miraculous fact that the model was actually allowed to keep his fucking shirt on instead of having it absent or, even worse, tucked neatly into his belt but completely unbuttoned. If the background had been desert sand, blue sky and a pyramid or two, this cover would’ve easily made the list.

Honestly, why aren’t I consulted when it comes to these sorts of things? My taste in cover art is impeccable. IMPECCABLE, I tell you. Don’t believe me? Check these out.

Zebra’s Regency line is putting out some truly lovely covers lately, and this is one of my favorites. It’s demure, it’s sexy, the look is very clean and elegant, and the font doesn’t make me want to weep and call the police to report curlicue abuse. Plus: I want that dress. This is a refrain you’ll probably hear very often in this entry, because damn, I love poofy, gauzy, girly dresses, and I love it when they’re used to good effect on a romance novel cover. Sigh.

Every time I walk by this book, I pick it up. Every time, I remember it flunked the 15-page test, and put it back regretfully. That, folks, is good cover design. I like the scratchy, textured illustration, I love the heroine’s outfit, and the cover just screams “Buy me! I’m a fun book!” Too bad the 15-page test screams “Don’t buy me! I’m mediocre, with the potential to veer into extreme annoyance the more you read me!”

Ooops. So much for not bitching. Sorry.

P.C. Cast is one lucky bitch. Most of the covers for her books are just gorgeous. I had a hard time picking the one I liked best for this entry, but I finally settled on this one because I love the colors, the textures, the expression on the woman’s face, and her kickass dress. I want that dress. Dammit.

OK, not romance, but chick lit, but man, a lot of chick lit books have covers that just kick. ass. The cover looks fun, the design is clean and uncluttered, and having the title and author on the boxes is a pretty nifty idea. And that pink herringbone skirt? Want it. Dammit.

Regulars to this site will have seen me mentioning this cover a bunch of times. That’s because I think it’s sexy done RIGHT. It’s kinky, it’s sexual, yet the cheescake is pretty discreet, and the models’ faces are shadowed so they don’t interfere with my concept of what the characters look like. Too bad the story itself was about as sexy and fun as watching Carnie Wilson getting her stomach stapled.

If I had to choose a favorite style of historical romance cover, I think covers based on old paintings would probably be it. This book, however, isn’t really a romance; from what I can tell, it’s a historical novel. But who cares? The cover is beyoootiful. I love the texture, the curlicued border on the left edge, the rich colors, the discreetly sexy painting, the fonts. Now why can’t more historical romances have more covers like these instead of pumped-up gym monkeys sporting scary eyeliner?

Stay tuned next week for Sarah’s whack at Romance Novel Covers that Don’t Suck!

Sarah: Fallen from Grace? More like, Fallen from a great height and is now a member of the walking dead. Perhaps a basic anatomy drawing course might be in order for that artist. Yeesh. And is it me, or is his head an entirely different color than his undead body?

Candy: I can just imagine the conversation pitching this cover: “So I’ll smoke a bunch of crack, see? And then I’ll, like, watch Fight Club over and over until my eyeballs explode, see? Then I’ll, like, sketch Brad Pitt from memory, only to make it less obvious that I’m painting Brad Pitt I’ll make him look like a zombie, see? Then I’ll smoke some MORE crack, and finish the painting. What do you say?”

Sarah: “Look what my next-door neighbor’s son drew in 7th grade art! Isn’t it perfect for our next book cover?!”

One should wonder about the kid next door’s interest in cross-eyed, no-necked Dark Lords sporting absolutely monstrous man-boobies. I imagine this Dark Lord has a voice like Eric Cartman and is screaming at the reader not to laugh at him, or he will throw his light-up purple fart at you.

Candy: I am so incredibly creeped-out by this cover because the character’s face looks eerily childish but his body is way, way overdeveloped, kinda like one of those child bodybuilders (e.g. Richard Sandrak). Was the artist a member of NAMBLA?

The uneven brush strokes also make the muscles appear lumpy and stringy. Brrrrr.

Sarah: Tall Dark and Diaphanous. Just how I like my heroes. With no real substance to them. Also, I like it when their cowboy hats look like fedoras with penises growing out the side. Whoo! Sexy!

Candy: You know you’re having a bad day when you can’t even draw a fucking silhouette right.

Goddamn. WHAT IS UP WITH THAT HAT?

I know there’s a lot of theories about who the reader identifies with, the hero or the heroine. Some of these covers, with the hero looking right at the reader - yeesh - make me wonder if the theory of heroine-identification is driving some art departments in their cover selections. All I can say is, these dudes? Not romantic. Not even close. More like...creepy.

Sarah: 1. Sir, are you holding your kilt closed?

2. Sir, are you aware that you have No Ass?

3. Sir, are you also aware that you have a mullet?!

Candy: Behold, the true reason why Adam and Eve were thrown out of Paradise: It wasn’t because of no damn apple. That was just an excuse. Not even God could condone a mullet.

Sarah: First of all, what is it about this guy that makes him look so stupid? Is it the vacant expression, or the slack-jawed lips? Is it me or does he look dumber than dirt?

And how bout those helmet horns! WHOO EE! Gotta love authentic costuming that not only says, “This Man is a Viking!” but also suggests that he has an enormous horn somewhere else! Thanks for spelling that out for us, art department. He’s a horny dude.

Maybe that’s why he’s looking so stupid. He’s lost all his blood to his enormous trouser horn.

Candy: Look, I’m not a historian. To call me a history dilletante would be to mortally insult dielletantes everywhere. But even I know that Vikings didn’t really wear horned helmets.

What’s next, a romance novel about Pilgrims in which the people eat apple pie and sit around singing “The Star-Spangled Banner”?

I also like how in every Viking cover I’ve seen thus far--and in our dedication to bring you the best (I use the term very, very loosely), I’m afraid I’ve exposed my poor retinas to more Viking fug than deemed safe by NASA, which specifies no more than 2 Viking cover exposures per month or risk infertility, cerebral hemmorhaging and/or a really itchy case of scabies--the men look like the dumbest, no-neck, steroid-guzzling gym monkeys around.

*scratches self*

Sarah: I’m not sure if this might be the most offensive cover ever. Not only is he looking like she has a penis and just goosed him in the ass while he was giving her a piggyback ride, but is that...a church? Is he holding a bible? Is he a priest and is the piggyback hussy tempting him away from his vows?

Y’all. It’s the Thornbirds. Only with a really vacant looking hero with too-long sideburns.

Sarah’s Hubby: Wait, is that Ross from Friends?

Candy: Preacher’s gotta make enough money to pay the billz, and hey, if some horny redhead decides to stuff dollars down his shirt while riding him *koff*.... the Lord understands, I’m sure.

Sarah: This cover isn’t so much bad as it is just...dumb. A big head and fireworks? He’s a trickster? Where, at a carnival? Carnie love stories?

And what is this cover trying to say, he’s got a big head and will make you see stars?

Candy: Sorry, when I hear words like “Trickster,” I don’t think “Romance!” I think Anansi, the west African spider-God.

Well, I guess half-men, half-spiders can be sexy. Hey, think of what he can do with those eight limbs! HOT! Move over, werewolves, there’s a new kid on the romance block, and he has a segmented body, multiple pairs of eyes and (depending on what region he’s from) urticating hairs! HOTTTT!

Sarah: The following bets have been placed with the Vegas bookies:

1. This man is not a natural blond.
2. He will cut himself or his pants severely tucking his long sword into this belt like that. I mean, really, if you’re going to carry a sword like that, you get a scabbard at least.
3. With that hair, that sword, and that vacant, staring-just-past-you expression, “virtual desire” is about the only satisfaction you’ll get out of that stud.

Candy, didn’t I once send you a cover card of a different cover version of this title? Some dude standing in the woods with a giant staff right between his legs?

Candy: Yes, yes you did, Sarah. It was for the first book, Virtual Heaven, which also features a wonderfully blank-looking model on the cover. I need to dig that sumbitch up....

Seeing as the book is about RPG video game characters come to life, here are some of this guy’s attributes:

Dexterity: +15
Magic: +10
Strength: +20
Charisma: +10
Man-Boobies of Great Crushing Power: +25
Intimidation via Implication of Massive Wanger: +40
Ability to “Rock Your Body Right”: +5
Pained Pout of Power: +25
Intelligence: -500

Sarah: OK, first, no one rides horses in diaphanous gowns unless you are dying for chapped, chafed skin.

Second, open shirt? What is WITH the OPEN SHIRT on all these MEN? Do we need empirical proof that they have nipples?!

And finally: that horse has the thickest, shortest neck I’ve ever seen. Now that is cruelty.

Candy: Maybe they need empirical proof that the dude doesn’t have a third nipple or a partially-resorpted conjoined twin below his xyphoid process or something? I do think that according to the medical wisdom of the time, riding around open-shirted into a raging river on a rearing stallion with your main squeeze perched precariously on your lap is a sure recipe for the ague. Or drowning.

Either way, what bliss.

Sarah: I always look at these making-out-naked-under-the-waterfall things and think two things:

1. Ew. Leeches!
2. Ew! LEECHES!

I mean, seriously, who is going to hop naked into a waterfall pool and not find something squicky on the bottom under their toes?

Furthermore, she is so skinny, she might be dead. She’s certainly not healthy. Does she even have enough muscle mass to hold her own head up? Or does her noggin flop over like a newborn’s if he’s not there to hold her up?

Candy: Aieeeee! The lollipop head, it hurts me to contemplate it! But I guess the dude compensates for her complete lack of muscle mass by having enough for a small island nation.

Sarah: I know this is a feature of Photoshop - but which one? Is it the pastels filter? And does anyone know WHY the artist decided to use it? Do they need to look like they have a fungus?

And this one has some excellent font action going on, too. Lady of FIRE! Just say with with a Beavis voice and it gets even better. Fire. FIRE! Lady of FIRE!

Also, is he, um, screwing her in mid-air? Is this a circus routine?

Candy: Wow. I didn’t know the Ice-Capades were popular in the Old West. Just you wait, he’s about to toss her so she can spin into a double axel. It also explains her gawdawful outfit.

I also love how the woman looks as if she’s orgasmically happy with her hair, too, like one of those Clairol Herbal Essences ads. Dude thought it was his wiener, but really, she’s moaning in ecstasy from her totally organic experience.

Sarah: I once had a photo like this taken of me. Not with my shirt open and a pelt on my back. But I went to Glamour Shots and they airbrushed the shit out of my face and that’s kind of what it looked like: all matte and perfect. I don’t know what he’s so blue about - there are millions of men in NYC who would kill for that level of smooth manscaping.

Nice Harry Potter scar, too.

Candy:

High above the mucky-muck, castle made of clouds,
There sits Wonderboy, sitting oh so proudly.
Not much to say when you’re high above the mucky-muck.
Yeah, yeah.
Wonderboy, what is the secret of your power?
Wonderboy, won’t you take me far away from the mucky-muck man?

Now it’s time for me to tell you about Young Nastyman,
Archrival and nemesis of Wonderboy, with powers comparable to Wonderboy.
What powers, you ask? I dunno, how ‘bout the power of flight?
That do anything for ya? That’s levitation, holmes.
How ‘bout the power to kill a yak from 200 yards away…
with mind bullets! That’s telekinesis, Kyle.
How ‘bout the power… to move you?

Hmmm. Apparently, some romance novel covers make me think of Tenacious D songs. Time to up the dose of my medication. Can’t wait to see which cover inspires me to think of “Fuck Her Gently.”

Oh. Wait.

Sarah: This guy is creepy. And it looks like there’s another dude in the bed next to him, over to his right.

Sweeter Savage Love? Legendary Lovers?! Come on - this guy has absolutely nothing beneath that sheet that is legendary or sweet or savage. Anyone who has to over compensate with that much manscaping and personal grooming is definitely sporting a wee willie winkie.

Candy: Dude. What a skanky-ass pose, and what a skanky-ass model. I have the oddest feeling that he has the sheet over such a strategic area because he’s covering the oozing sores. Is it just me? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

This week’s cover showcase happened totally by accident - I went looking for the collection of bad “baby-themed romance” covers that I’d seen over the past few weeks, and found a completely separate category: celebrity models. Almost all of the dudes and a few of the women look like celebrities, and B-list celebrities at that.

So, not only do you get the “Whoa, is that ugly!” commentary, but you also can play the, “Wait a minute, isn’t that...?” game along with us. Thanks to Bono and the Highlander who both modeled for Rio Grande wedding and likely started this trend. Damn you!

Sarah:First, I have to say, I kind of hate men & baby covers. It’s a romance. It’s not a parenting book.

Secondly, it’s cold. Put some clothes and a goddamn hat on that baby right now or I will take her back to that orphanage in China and wait until some people with some sense come to adopt her. The only baby discovery he’s going to get is a discovery that Child Services is ready to bust open a big jar of whoopass.

Candy: I love how the guy’s hair sticks out just about as much as his chin does. HOTTTTT! I love dating men whose chins can double as a marital aid; makes oral sex that much more interesting.

Also, the stupid “Bachelor Dads” logo? Because of the three As in the block, I keep reading it as “Bachelor Daaads,” which in turn makes me think of the sheep in Animal Farm. “Four legs good, two legs bachelor daaaaaad.” Almost sounds like it could be Cockney rhyming slang too, and I can’t think of a more fitting rhyme for “bad” than “bachelor dad.”

Random side-note: This book must’ve been marketed in Malaysia or Indonesia, because the cover has a Malay sub-title ("Baby in the Snow"). This is not a particularly funny observation, although frankly I’m amazed that I remember enough Malay to translate that cover. It’s been about 10 years since I’ve had to read or speak that language.

Sarah: Hey, isn’t that the dude from 7th Heaven? And don’t you just love how the baby room is pink, the carpet is purple, it matches her outfit, AND she’s the one telling him how to put the crib together? And the tools are on HER side of the bedrail? Rev. Camden needs to take some lessons from his butch wifey there.

Candy: THESE ARE NOT REAL PEOPLE. THESE ARE STEPFORD PEOPLE. RUN, MOTHERFUCKERS, RUN!

Sarah: Christina Applegate has a not-so-secret baby. And she also has a not-so-secret need for some face powder to control that shine, too. Or is the secret that she’s not entirely ph-balanced, as a woman?

Candy: I was thinking Sarah Michelle Gellar, for some reason. Anyway, I feel bad for the little tyke. Being mashed against that bony clavicle has gotta hurt.

Sarah:Ok, first, she doesn’t look pregnant. Her boobs look damn funny -are they halfway down her chest? - but I don’t look at her and think, “Oh, totally expecting.” Second, what’s going on? Is she in labor? Is he helping? I don’t think that’s how it’s done. At least, I hope not, because I’m five months pregnant and I can’t stand it when the cats walk on my stomach, so don’t even talk to me about some dude pressing his big hand on my abdomen.

And speaking of dude, is that Billy Ray Cyrus? And isn’t that the chick from CSI:Miami?

Candy: I’m totally going to hell for saying this, but: it almost looks like the dude’s helping the woman to express her afterbirth for some unspeakably kinky fetish site.

And what is UP with those multi-colored jingle-jangles on her arm? Are they part of her sweater sleeves? Goddammit, when will 80s fashions die already?

And the dude totally looks like Billy Ray, only without the mullet, for which we are eternally grateful because that sweater has provided more than our fair share of fug for this cover.

Sarah:Lorenzo Lamas says, “I have been working out, and doing serious drama training for my role as a pedophile army dude who doesn’t know better than to play with little kids without my shirt on.” Uncle Sarge needs some parental supervision, if you ask me.

Candy: SO CREEPY. The way he’s holding the baby so possessively against him makes me think he’s using the kid to smuggle cocaine or something. He’s telling the girl “Touch this baby and I’ll CUT CHOO, leetle lady,” only all smiley because secretly? He’s looking forward to the cuttin’.

No, don’t ask me why when I see a romance novel cover featuring a shirtless dude in camo holding a baby I immediately think “Mercenary smuggling cocaine in baby” instead of “AWWW SQUEE HOW KYUTE!” You’re probably better off not knowing why I think the way I do.

Sarah: Ok, is he gay? I think he’s gay. Tight pants, very tight shirt? Furthermore, he looks like a Baldwin, but not a good looking Baldwin. He looks like a doofy Baldwin. Either that, or Just Jack from Will & Grace.

No! I’ve GOT IT. He’s DOUG from Trading Spaces!

Candy: Hey, what better way to ensure that you never, ever have another unexpected pregnancy than to date a guy who isn’t even remotely interested in getting you pregnant? Gay boyfriends: Birth Control, the All-Natural Way!