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

Candy:

OK, first of all? This novella is marketed as historical erotica by its publisher, Amber Quill Press. The reality? I’ve read hotter, more detailed love scenes in short stories from mainstream anthologies. I was expecting nookie—oceans and rivers and fountains of it—and instead found one four-page love scene in 54 pages of story. It’s even a pretty standard in-out, in-out scene, though BONUS! A bodice (OK, chemise) does get ripped. Somewhat unfairly, this impacted my opinion of the book, and really, this is not necessarily Draven’s fault. It’s:

1. The publisher’s fault, for labeling the novella inaccurately; and

2. My fault, for being a smut-hungry hussy who feels cranky when she expects copious scenes of inventive sexx0r, only to be denied.

And second of all: this is not a complete story unto itself. There are many, many loose ends (including the love story and HEA) that Draven will wrap up in a sequel. Again, an indication that this is the first installment in a series on the publisher’s part would’ve been good.

The story features a pretty standard Wrongly Accused Hero plot. Colin Wyndham is the illegitimate son of the Earl of Montcleve, and when right on the cusp of manhood, is quite conveniently found clutching a bloody knife next to daddy-o’s lifeless body in the study. I’m not sure why innocent people are so enamored with splashing themselves with blood and grabbing the murder weapon when they stumble upon a grisly death; common sense would normally dictate that one throw up, then scream like a little girl and run for help, but on the other hand, whole writing careers have been built with this sort of scenario, so why break with tradition? At any rate, Colin runs off and becomes a pirate captain—probably because being a pirate bo’sun doesn’t have quite the same heroic ring to it.

Top of the Monday to you. At this hour, only the east coasters and our fabulous Europeans are up and writing, so it’s time for another edition of “Good Shit vs. Shit to Avoid,” where we throw out a genre type and you recommend reading material for that there style of romance. Not that we’re avoiding the west coasters, since this will be up until Candy wakes up and something romance-related burns her toast. Me, I’m too tired from getting ready to move to get worked up about anything. 

Last time, we did Paranormal: Vampire Romance, so today I thought I’d mix it up and ask for your knowledgeable recommendations for Contemporary Romance: Military/Police/Law Enforcement. All you CSI, NCIS, and Brockmann addicts out there, what regimented authority do you like your heros and heroines to work within, and possibly struggle against? 

The Magic of You

Sarah: The magic here is: how did the same cover models for Gentle Rogue get hired for another seafaring cover and STILL manage to look equally ridiculous?

What’s with the eyeshadow? Doesn’t that belt pinch? Where’s his shirt? What’s with the garter-showing pose, sans garter? And why is she in her undergarments while standing on what looks like a floating plank in a large storm at sea, with a ship coming apart behind her? And is he holding her up, or casting her overboard?

But by far the most pressing (har) question: DOES HE HAVE...CAMEL TOE?!

Ya’ll. Fabio is a GIRL.

Candy: Sarah, can I just say how very, very much it frightens me that you actually looked closely enough at the cover to discern the camel toe? I admire your bravery, while simultaneously hoping that Baby Bitchlette has not suffered any damage in utero.

Anyway: PEOPLE. Just because you’re stuck in the middle of a ship with God knows WHAT kind of rampaging, raping barbarian, does not mean you have leave to violate all rules of decent society and resort to that shade eyeshadow. There’s never any excuse for that color eyeshadow. Or those camel toe-inducing pants. *shudder*

I’m also amazed at the power of Fabio’s breath. Judging by the way her hair is flying around willy nilly, that’s some exhaling power he’s got there.

This cover also receives my nomination for the Darwin Awards, because y’all, that HUGE MOTHERFUCKING WAVE that’s partially obscuring the helm looks like it’s going to sweep Our Not Particularly Intrepid Lovers into Davy Jones’s Locker any second now. Maybe that’s why she’s raising her skirt? She’s trying to pacify Neptune’s wrath or something? Because it sure as shit can’t be for Fabio’s benefit. He seems particularly fascinated with her hairline. Probably trying to discern what kind of product she uses by smell.

When Love Awaits

Sarah: This cover wishes so hard that it was Klimt’s The Kiss, only done in that weird 70’s style romance cover.

Summon the royal chiropractor! His neck! Her neck! My neck, from looking too closely at them! Hie thee, chiropractor!

And summon the surgeon, for he appears to have stabbed her in the crotch with his massive sword. No, not that sword, the other one.

Candy: This cover wins the prize for “Best Placement of Strategically Fluttery Pieces of Cloth.” I’m also trying way, way too hard to figure out why Stud McMuffin is naked in the garden with none of his armor anywhere in sight except for his helm (those empty, creepy eyes, boring in my brain, eeeeegah) while still holding on to his sword. I mean, he loves his sword so much, he can’t bear to let go of it to ravish his lady fair. That’s some serious sword-love goin’ on.

You Belong to Me

Sarah: This is among the more bizarre Lindsey Fabio covers. I wonder if Fabio is famous because of all these Lindsey covers? I mean, someone’s buying her books - probably the same people who are buying Cassie Edwards’ books. Maybe their collective readership is keeping Fabio in business.

This cover has such a hodgepodge of bizarre elements. What’s with her pose - what are they kneeling on? Are they inside, with a wind machine, or outside a wall? Does he ever have a shirt? Why isn’t she wearing a bra? Or a chemise? Or even a corset? Is this a contemporary?

And finally, what’s with that horse?

I know! I know! A nuclear detonation has been sighted on the horizon, and the air displacement has begun to ruffle their hair - and knock that horse straight up in the air. He’s been caught before his hooves leave the ground. In the last frantic moments, it’s nookie-on-the-fur-coat time.

Candy: Hahahahahaha.

Sorry. I can’t get over the horse. He looks so STARTLED. I mean, he’s so startled that his forelock is standing on end. Like “Holy shit, I’m on a Fabio cover! My reputation will never recover! I hope to God mother never sees what I’ve had to resort to to keep myself in timothy and alfalfa hay!”

Hahahahahahaha.

Anyway, that chick? She does NOT look happy. Can’t blame her; looks like Fabio’s about to give her a circumorbital hematoma with his chin. Or maybe Fabio has released some truly vicious Savage Thunder. That would explain why their hair is flying around in an apparently enclosed space.

The votes have been tallied, and the winner of our Another Chance to be a Bitch™ contest is.... (Fabio steps up to timpanum and starts vigorous drumroll, man-hooters jiggling hypnotically)

Selah March, for entry number 8! A truly magnificient two-faced piece of writing, and in these here parts, we heartily approve of the phrase “sucks ass” wherever it may be found (unless used in relation to us).

Other contestants who gave Selah a real run for the money include Alison S for entry number 2 (the romp with Caligula’s stallion and slaves speaking Ebonics apparently brought a tear to many an eye), and Bonnie for entry number 11 (people had a hard time resisting The Swollen Stallion, which warms the cockles of my heart while simulatenously terrfying them).

So congratulations to Selah, and many, many thanks to everyone who participated and voted. Without y’all, this site wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Selah, you will be e-mailed soon with details on Guest Bitchery. And! We Smarty Bitchypoos now dub thee:

And and AND! Please pick three books from the following list, and e-mail your choices and mailing address to .

Where’s My Hero?, an anthology featuring Julia Quinn, Lisa Kleypas and Kinley MacGregor
Only in My Dreams by Eve Byron (cracks in spine, pages yellowed, edgewear)
The Gentleman Caller by Megan Chance
The Perfect Scandal by Kit Garland
In My Dreams by Monica Jackson
Duchess in Love by Eloisa James
The Naked Duke by Sally MacKenzie
The Rake and the Reformer by Mary Jo Putney (pretty beat up--lots of creases everywhere)
One Man’s Love (Book 1 of the Highland Lords) by Karen Ranney
When the Laird Returns (Book 2 of the Highland Lords) by Karen Ranney
The Irresistible MacRae (Book 3 of the Highland Lords) by Karen Ranney
To Love a Scottish Lord (Book 4 of the Highland Lords) by Karen Ranney
Single, Sexy… and Sold! by Vicki Lewis Thompson, Harlequin Temptation 721

Again, congrats to Selah and to all the rest who participated: remember, it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s whether you had fun being a bitch.

In the June 2005 issue of Organic Style there’s an article urging women to take more moments of pleasure for themselves (no, not that kind of pleasure. Put that erotica novel down!).

#13: Read a Romance Novel: See what all the fuss is about - all the eye-rolling disapproval and the secret enjoyment experienced by millions of women. Savor [every] delicious minute!

How excellent! Of course, we here at SBTB are not at all secret about our enjoyment, though we do plenty of eye-rolling at the bad ones and the dreadful beefcake clinch covers. But to be told to use romance novels as an indulgence for women akin to going on a picnic (#12), playing outside (#7), or going for an aimless walk (#1) - probably not a bad thing. Romance novels are certainly an indulgence for me a good part of the time.

Wish the writer has been able to keep the “eye-rolling” to a minimum though.