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!

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