by Candy • Tuesday, May 13, 2008 at 03:50 AM
It’s hard to beat a good old-fashioned clinch if you’re looking that delicious taste of WHAT IN THE FUCK in the morning.
So here. Have some delicious WHAT THE FUCK this morning.
Candy: He looks inordinately pleased that he’s broken her hip, doesn’t he? Maybe because it means she can’t run away from his swarthy charms as fast as she used to.
Sarah: A new facet of Native American culture that I didn’t know about: ear wax, it is teh sexxey.
At least, that’s the only explanation I’ve got as to why she’s posed such that he’s gazing down her ear canal.
Candy: Good lord, people! What’s with all the poor freaked-out horsies on romance novel covers? Is every day Throw A Rattlesnake in Front of Your Horse Day in Romancelandia? Jesus, do I even want to know what kind of euphemism “rattlesnake” stands for? (Or is it, in fact, a spitting viper?)
The guy, on the other hand, looks surprisingly sanguine--indifferent, even--at the prospect of having his neck snapped in short order, because given the way his shirt is flailing in the wind, I seriously doubt he’s keeping his seat for much longer.
Sarah: The reins are to the left, his ass is to the right, his jacket’s off his middle - and UNH! Down he goes! I hereby invite that horse to take a bite of this moron, because he’s a disgrace to horseback riders everywhere.
Unless what we’re seeing here is Outraged Horsie’s Revenge, as we witness the opening moments of Mr. Stallion whipping Captain Bonerdeath around by the reins and tossing him into the nearest embankment.
Candy: She looks awfully blissed out for somebody who’s getting her upper back humped by a gym monkey. Maybe because he’s putting a vibrating cock ring to novel uses? Or maybe it’s all part of a new Sexy Chiropractic Adjustment regime--the, uh, staff of manliness is utilized as a lever?
Aww, using your cock therapeutically--if that doesn’t say Twu Wuv, I don’t know what does.
Sarah: Ah, the ice dancing romance novel cover art series. This is book 1. Stay tuned for the covers for book two and three, based on ice dancing’s more advanced and certainly cover-worthy poses.
by Candy • Wednesday, June 25, 2008 at 05:20 PM
In this week’s cover snark: oceans of fabric, and we do mean oceans. And then a peekaboo leg. What the hell is up with that? And also mullets, but then we’ve given up on speculating why those are still around.
Candy (in an appalling David Attenborough impression): “And here we see the rare Bedsheet Hellbeast consuming its prey. By cleverly simulating high-threadcount linens, this nocturnal beast often sets out lures for the unsuspecting human, often in the form of a member of the opposite sex with over-developed mammaries. The victims’ attempts to escape are futile once they fall into its grasp. Witness the writhings of this particular victim. Her attempts to claw her way out will only entangle her further.”
Sarah: Some heroes shapeshift and turn into wolves. Seals. Lions. Tigers. Lygers. Oh my. But this guy, he shapeshifts into the finest Egyptian cotton bedsheets. Pretty handy when company invades at the last minute. But then, you know the wet spot? He IS the wet spot.
And what is up with her toes? Check out the udder-ly bizarre toes under the “SS” in “Passion.” Perhaps she’s shifting, only instead of bedsheets, she’s a mop.
Candy: “And here we see a close cousin of the Bedsheet Hellbeast, the Wedding Dress Snorcher. Notice how the lure in this instance is coated with a sheen of digestive enzymes. This makes the breaking down of the copious amounts of keratin on this particular prey an easier enterprise.”
Sarah: There’s simply not enough double-leg amputee romance out there. And there’s really not enough double-leg amputee who was the victim of a rogue wedding gown that twisted itself around his thighs, cutting off circulation in a fit of jealous rage.
Candy: “And here we see a juvenile Snorcher in the preliminary stages of acquiring its prey. Notice how it attaches a feeding veil to the head of its victim. This allows it to render its victim unconscious, thereby eliminating the dangers associated with vigorous struggling.”
Sarah: Yet another secret kept by heroines all over RomanceLandia: how to hide the hideously calloused feet. Climbing all those mountains barefoot wearing wedding dresses and ballgowns, it leaves one with soles of leather, rough enough to sand chopped wood into floorboards and thick enough to walk over hot coals, hot water, and the hot oil treatment preferred by this and every hero. It’s a trick, keeping those yellow soles hidden from view. How do they do it? We may never know.
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