Making fun of Fabio covers is like taking candy from a baby. A tall, blond, muscular, grotesquely be-titted baby. So today, we decided to switch to another punching bag entirely. Behold, the gallery of horrors towards which John D’Salvo has lent his visage. If ye be wise, avert your eyes.
Ah, who am I kidding? Chances are, you’re masochistic bitches, just like us.
Sarah: OW. Not only did Candy throw down the gauntlet with this series, but she starts off with a Cassie Edwards romantic book of Savage Lurrrrrve®. Damn. That gauntlet is heavy when it hits your toe.
Steering his canoe through the River-of-Fire, known to the white man as Buttsecks Creek, Casts-Long-Shadow-With-Brave-Man-Titty wondered, would he ever find a woman who would appreciate the subtle implications of the long, thin staff held between his legs? And would he ever find a conditioner that would keep his hair soft and supple in the hot Buttsecks wind?
Candy: “Hot Buttsecks wind.” Haaahahahahahah ohdeargod.
Ahem. Indeed, I hear the Hot Buttsecks can sometimes result in a lot of windiness. *koff*
My question is, what is he so savagely hoping for as he peers into the wacky-ass aqua mist surrounding his canoe? Is he spearing for extra saline implants that he can use to augment his assets? Or is he looking for some indication—ANY indication—of his alleged Native American ancestry?
Sarah: I don’t know where to put my eyes first, or where to avert them from. Her neck is broken. Her head’s too big for her body. Her sleeve appears to be as wide as my ass.
And he has a bleeding rose in his crotch. I know if it burns when you pee, it’s time to see a doctor, but if your schmeckie turns into a thorned blossom and weeps blood? I don’t know what kind of doctor to call for that mess.
Candy: I’m sorry, chiquita—you can try to look as fetching as you like, but that dude? He doesn’t play for your team. He dances to his own tune, and that tune is “Michael.” He’s much more like to trill with glee over your flounces and comment on the stitchwork than tear them off your slim, nubile body. Next time, look for a dude who DOESN’T wear his denim shirts completely unbuttoned while sniffing a bloody (literally bloody!) pink rose.
Sarah: Oooh, and she ends the first d’Salvo trifecta with a Zebra historical. Woo damn she’s good.
Follow which moon? The moon of her cleavage, the moon of his plumber’s crack? Come on, he must have one with pants that tight. Maybe it’s the cleft moon of his impossibly ripped arms. I think his musculature is about to rip his skin in half. Ouch.
Candy: “What d’you mean, you don’t trust me? I swear, moving the hot French governess into the adjoining bedroom means nothing, nothing at all, my sweet. Look, that grip on my arm is really starting to cut off the circulation in my biceps. Just. Let. Go. DARLING.”
Okay, the only time I’ve ever done commentary on bad romance novel covers was when I saw The Black Rose (which was snarked on this page) and I instantly remembered it.
Anyway, here’s what I think of the three covers:
The first one looks like the guy is still trying to paddle as his canoe is sinking…or trying to spear a fish and keeps missing. Either way the wooden paddle (or spear) is definitely compensating for something.
The second one isn’t that bad, except for the bleeding rose on the guy’s groin and the woman with her nightgown still on. Doesn’t she kinda look like Eva Longoria (of “Desperate Housewives” fame) if Eva weren’t Mexican? Or it could be Teri Hatcher. I dunno. The hero, however, looks almost like Colin Farrell if he had an extensive wax job.
The third one is probably the most offensive, only because it looks like the hero is trying to rape the woman and the woman is pulling away, kinda like what happens in those Pepe Le Pew cartoons from the Looney Tunes series.
I don’t know where to put my eyes first, or where to avert them from.
I feel your pain. As soon as my eyes settled on that rose with the dripping blood, my palm took on a life of its own and clapped itself over my face. Yes, I had a literal “facepalm” moment. I’m afraid, very afraid, to know what that’s supposed to be suggesting…
I am shocked, shocked, I tell you, that neither Candy nor Sarah commented on the guy’s leg on the last cover. It seems a bit swollen to me, like it’s about to split his pants, and it’s in such an awkward position. Is he perhaps dry humping the rock while he comtemplates pushing the woman into the water?
You guys should totally do the “Pull My Finger” Viking next. I know I have seen his smarmy mug on at least three or four other covers, I just can’t remember what they were right now.
I’m with KariBelle. That Viking dude…I don’t know, there’s just something about him.
Ah, bless you, a JDS trinity. Yes, the long haired vampire savages are noteworthy, but I personally love the ones where he’s just…kind of…staring. He does blank so well.
He does do a lot of staring into the middle distance covers, doesn’t he? Always looking just past the reader, like he’s gazing at the border of the cover itself, wondering if he can shimmy off the page. Run little D’Salvo, run!
Given my druthers, I’d rather have D’Salvo gazing off into the distance than that Viking dude inviting me to pull his finger.
I actually have a copy of
Savage Hope
. Trust me, the cover is the best thing about it. I picked it up at a garage sale for $0.25 and that was STILL too much. I’d send it to you and ask you to review it, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t want to expose yourselves to that.
LC
Oh, LC, you poor dear—you had no idea what you were getting into with a Cassie Edwards Indian romance, did you? I read Desire’s Blossom for free, and when I finished it, I wanted the publisher to pay me for reading it.
We’ve already snarked the Pull-My-Finger viking, by the way. But really, “pull my finger” is such the perfect snark that there really isn’t any way we could’ve improved on it.
Oh, yes! I had forgotten the Pull-My-Finger Viking’s other identity, Sean, the Cro-Magnon Cowboy was already on this website as well. I guess it was not my best idea, but wasn’t it fun to look back?
Candy, no, I didn’t know what I was getting into. Oh, if only I’d found this site before that fateful day at the garage sale last fall! I could have been spared this horror!
LC
Ah, Lord. I was laughing by the time I’d read the post title… *groan*
And Good Grief – his chin in the last one? You could hang saucepans on it.
“I am shocked, shocked, I tell you, that neither Candy nor Sarah commented on the guy’s leg on the last cover”
I was looking at his foot on the rock. Doesn’t it look a little wide? Like maybe it is a hand on the end of that ankle??? I still can’t figure out what that is…it is flesh colored…
Sam
Dark secret time: I once started to read a Cassie E when trapped on a Mediterranean island during a major religious festival after I’d worked my way through the cup-a-soup instructions in Maltese. Made it about halfway before the utter annoyance of the entire thing made me overcome my fear of big pointy-nosed sharks and go diving instead.
At least that way I could appease my reading twitch by looking at cards that identified different kinds of poisonous fish and a book about the fun ways pressurised air can kill. Which might explain why I read the other title as “Dark Rupture”. Compressed gas is deadly stuff.
Okay “And he has a bleeding rose in his crotch.” cracked me up. I just found this site and having a great time reading.
-Sable