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

If you’re curious about the various paranormal schticks that are popular right now in Romancelandia, Hot Spell offers a taste of some of the sub-genres. You have your SF/steampunk (Emma Holly’s “The Countess’s Pleasure"), your squicky uh-I-think-that-might-verge-on-bestiality human/animal chimera ("The Breed Next Door” by Lora Leigh), angels and demons ("Falling for Anthony” by Meljean Brook) and vampires and werewolves ("The Blood Kiss” by Shiloh Walker). Lots and lots of rampant inter-species lovin’, yo. *suppresses urge to make joke that invokes Barnyard Sluts Vol. IX* Unfortunately, the two decently entertaining stories in this anthology can’t make up for the one gawdawful story, or the other one which is pretty much just a snooze.

Sarah: He looks like he feels a little guilty. Here he is, trying to impress you, sharpening his wee little blade, wearing his finest feather headdress, and ...whoops!  A little poot slips from beneath his buckskins. And he hopes you won’t notice but it’s visible, a green, sulfur cloud that wafts behind him. Ooops. No wonder he feels guilty. He killed the Laird of the Wind with his green Savage Thunder.

Candy: His buddies HATE going hunting with him, not only because of the thunderous savagery emanating from his behiney, but because the stench scares away the animals for miles around. Also, he doesn’t look savage so much as he does kind of tweaked-out and worried. He looks like he’s just snorted a huge line of coke and trying really, really hard to stifle a real ripper, but not quite succeeding.

Also: Egad. What are the odds that there’d be not one, but two books entitled Savage Thunder? Gotta love the romance novel industry.

Sarah: Oh, Holy God, SHE’S A MAN, BABY. A MAAAAAN.

Candy: Wow. Props to the art department for finding a person who has bigger titties than DeSalvo. But Sarah has a point. I’m now wondering: Where else is she more generously endowed than our erstwhile hero? Is that the shadow of...other things...I see? Does her cinnabar cave hide a lusty dragon?

Sarah: Sometimes happiness means a musclebound man with a mullet whose hair, although egregious, is still better than his partner’s, as she sports one of the seven lesbian haircuts.

And sometimes happiness means faking, *le sigh*, yet another orgasm for the cover of a romance novel.

And sometimes, happiness means getting to look at a cover like this to say mean things about it, and having so many horrible thoughts pop into my mind that I just giggle like a mental patient who got her hands on the contents of one too many helium balloons.

Candy: Do you ever have moments when so many quips flood forth that they basically jam your brain, kind of like all the Three Stooges trying to ram their way through a doorway at once?

Yeah. Am having one of those moments now. The word “beard” seems to be one of the few coherent words that has escaped the logjam. (Huh huh, “logjam.") All I can say is, bitch doesn’t need to wait for the rainbow. The rainbow’s motherfucking THERE already--see? All sparkly-like, right on the bumper of his car.

Many apologies for the delay in this coronation--a combination of flakiness and a busy weekend do not a prompt Bitch make. Many congratulations to Deb for correctly guessing this week’s answer to our Personal Ad challenge. Kneel, Deb, and bask in the warm glow of your new Smart Bitch title:

‘Tis Friday, and therefore, ‘tis personal ad challenge day. Today’s is going to be a bit different: I want the hero’s name, instead of the heroine. So, the magic combination today is:

Title + Author + Hero’s Name = TOTALLY FUCKIN’ AWESOME TITLE FOR YOU.

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Shy, bookish man, much more comfortable with dead Greek philosophers than live English debutantes, seeks quiet, meek girl willing to listen for hours about assorted obscure subjects. Am not at all looking for a beautiful, hot-tempered larcenous female intent on carrying out all sorts of hair-raising schemes revolving around her scandalous father’s memoirs. No, really. Not interested in dark snapping eyes, masses of curly hair or a figure that would make the gods weep, especially not attached to a female who is, for whatever mysterious reason, not averse to stolen kisses from me. Seriously.

The wise and wordy Jeri asks:

I guess a good question for readers would be, do cover quotes affect your buying decision in the first place?  But that sounds like another blog topic altogether.

Fo’ shure, this is a blog topic on its own.

My personal opinion (and of course you asked for it!) is that it doesn’t make a huge difference, except for me thinking, ‘Hey, a quote from an author I like - that’s cool that she/he knows him/her’ - e.g. when PC Cast had a quote from Christopher Moore, I emailed her in hyperventilating fashion and said, “OMGOMG You know Christopher Moore? He is, like, So Super Kewlies!” and barely stopped short of artistically decorating my email with various symbols like ** and ~~ and ||||.

I also got a book to review recently with a cover quote from MaryJanice Davidson that literally made me laugh out loud. I don’t have the book with me, but it was to the effect of, “I’m so jealous I didn’t write this book myself!” That cracked my ass up.

But do quotes from authors I’ve heard of make me read a book? Honestly, no. I usually assume they are friends, or a favor was owed, or someone knew someone who knew someone else. The inside joke of Sherrilyn Kenyon/Kinley MacGregor cover quoting aside, the words usually ring so artificial and sound like so much PR-speak that I ignore them.

However - a quote from an author whose work I don’t like? Might make me question the quality of the book I’m considering.

That said, I’m more than ready to sell myself for cover quotes. In the spirit Darlene’s son’s review of Bela Fleck (which was spot on, by the way), I’ll tell the entire world that your book was so funny, I laughed until my episiotomy hurt.