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.
Waiting for the Rainbow. . . I don’t get it. Why is there a small, furry animal on the back of his neck? Does this have something to do with the storyline? Oh, no! Did he scalp her muff?
Btw, I thought that tagline said “Sometimes happiness moans. . . ” And I said to myself, “Yes, it does. It absolutely does.”
Oh, please, I must know: what are the other six of the Seven Lesbian Haircuts (automatically capitalized in my mind). I think I may have had one when I was 10, a bold precursor of things to come, although now I have Princess Leia hair.
Shamara…Don’t go with boogers, no really, get your S.O. to check out the nasal sanctuary.
If that’s true, then what are the other six lesbian haircuts?
Here’s my take on these covers:
Savage Thunder: To quote Candy, “he doesn’t look savage so much as he does kind of tweaked-out and worried…” There’s really nothing to say about that since someone else did it for me.
Shamara: Okay, there’s a lot of things wrong with/I noticed about the cover:
1) that title sucks. Shamara—sounds like something Michael Jackson said in one of his old songs. Yech!
2) this guy picked her up out of the ocean. Why isn’t she blue and bloated from drowning?
3) She looks like Anjelica Huston…or Morticia Addams sans the creepy get-up.
4) Is that a decoder ring or a plantar wart on the chick’s hand?
5) Why does it look like she has implants? And why would she be drowning if she has implants? If they were silicone, she’d be floating, would she not?
6)Where are they where there’s flowers growing in the friggin’ water?
7) If the Anjelica Huston-esque harpy did come from the briny (or freshwater) deep, why isn’t her dress wet? As filmy as that thing is, it should be clinging to her body, revealing her “stiff, diamond-hard peaks” (“nipples” for those who don’t understand romance novel-speak), prompting the long-haired, white-trash looking guy to ask if she’s ever been in a car (because her “headlights” are on)…wait, let me rephrase that—why isn’t she herself wet, unless the guy is going to dump her in the water. If that’s the case, then a more apt title for the book would be, “Women—The Only Fish You Can Eat, Then Toss Back.”
Waiting For The Rainbow: Looks like the chick is waiting for him to finish. She doesn’t look that interested in him. Also: Is it me or is the hero not wearing any pants (or anything below the waist)? And that caption, “Sometimes happiness means…” should be elongated to its original version: “Sometimes happiness means feeling him squirm around with that limp noodle of his, making faces at me that suggest that he’s about to blow his load in me when really, he’s mugging more than Mike Myers in “Austin Powers” and Jimmy Fallon on the majority of sketches from seasons 28 and 29 of “Saturday Night Live”. Not to worry, readers. Once he’s done tiring himself out, she’ll be in the shower, stripped to the flesh, wedging her vibrating showerhead betwixt her thighs and, to paraphrase Prince in his latest song, ‘Black Sweat’, “…will be screaming like a white lady when she counts to three.”
Wow. I want to see the other six lesbian haircuts.
And the rainbow chick looks so bored. Poor DeSalvo.
what jumped out at me was the fact that cassie edwards is apparently a “NY times bestselling author”. How the HELL did that happen? i personally read one of her books and will never, EVER, for ANY REASON, touch another. huh?
also, i feel dumb, but who/what is desalvo, exactly?
NO MORE DESALVO. For the love of the holy covers of St. Fabio, I’m begging you, SBs. Please.
Bring back the dragons and reptile space aliens who luv butt secks. Bring back Poser covers if you must. Please. Step-backs with top covers of Kotex flowers and cakes that have been left out in the rain. Weird pastiches featuring kissing couples floating above sobbing women melting into men’s crotches under a river.
Just no more DS.
sob.
And happy anniversary. You need to go VISIT ME AND BETH, ya bitches. It’s party time.
visit us at our blogs, I mean. Really. Now I’ll put in a link for mine so you can get there.
Waiting for the Rainbow makes me think we’re waiting for him to come out of the closet. Like he’s got little leather lederhosen on. Maybe that is why she looks so bored.
The third guy looks a little like Cherif Fortin. Is it definitely DeSalvo?
Rainbow girl looks like Michelle Phiffer in Lady Hawk. I rather like the iceberg that looks like a pig-dog behind the man. Is it just me or does he have amazingly long large buttocks?
For a moment, I thought the title was actually “Shannara” … as in that horrifyingly bad series that caused me to stop reading fantasy for around 15 years. In which case, he’s the Conan-esque warrior, s/he’s the thief (they’re masters/mistresses-of-disguise, donchaknow), the alleged plantar wart is actually an “elfstone”, and the miraculous water-blooming irises are the work of the party’s mage, who is undoubtedly lurking around out of frame. Would I actually read another book in that series if it actually featured DeSalvo sloshing through it, stopping to delicately inhale the intoxicating scent of his she-male companion? Well, probably not.
And the Seven Lesbian Haircuts sounds like some sort of bad martial-arts movie. Which I would probably enjoy.
Doesn’t DeSalvo look a little like Deuce Bigalow on that first book? The expression is just. . . um, fascinating.
For one glorious summer, the gentle sable-haired beauty, Ah-Liveeah Neutrawhn-Jawhn had known love in the arms of a mysterious man she had rescued on the shores of a watery planet. The man she called Waiyn Grehtsqi. The sleekness of his thick hair bewitched her and in his bold embrace, she overcame her terror of the waves.
He taught her to swim. He taught her water sports. And then, when he vanished one morning as mysteriously as he had appeared, he taught her to weep. Great crystalline tears of pain and hurt streaked down her angelically beautiful face as she vowed never to love again.
Six months later, Ah-Liveeah had reinvented herself, and forged a new destiny President-for-life of her family’s inter-stellar sealife export business. But fate had other plans for Ah-Liveeah, and on a trading mission with only her trusty psychically-gifted scorpion fish, Alfonse, for company, she was captured by a band of space pirates.
But Ah-Liveeah’s new blonde hairstyle was more than a way to cover up an error of judgement with a can of superglue and a lighter; it was a badge of honour. She refused to cower before her captors and defiantly faced the pirate captain, concealing her true name to protect her family as she demanded her release. And yet, something about the man tugged at her heart in a familiar way. But she had never known a man with such shaggy hair…
The swarthy space pirate, known only as the Mulletaur, knew his distinctive unkempt hairstyle cleverly disguised his true identity and symbolised freedom to millions of slaves working in mobile discotheques throughout the galaxy. He had given his heart to the sweet-tempered brunette who had nursed him the previous summer and then betrayed him to the authorities, and yet this spitfire blonde who challenged him aroused his most primal male instincts. But the heat of their passion could never thaw his icy heart…
And meanwhile, Alfonse bided his time.
>>he taught her water sports<
<
Alert the new duchess!
>
>And meanwhile, Alfonse bided his time.<<
*Snort*
You, EAP, deserve a Smart Bitches blurb.
For those of you who want a break from DeSalvo, check out this little gem that Sandy Coleman of AAR posted over there: http://brushwithromance.com/
Now, back to JDS, has anyone commented yet on the fact that he’s wearing EXACTLY the same expression in EVERY cover shot—that slightly startled, very vapid, intensely unfocused “you want me to huh!?” look? “America’s Next Top Model” wouldn’t put up with that crap for a minute, no sireeee!
EAP: I thought your plot twist would reveal that Alfonse was actually Waiyn Grehtsqi, thus making your story the first were-psychic scorpion fish romance I’d encountered. But you outstripped my expectations! Brava. Bra. Va.
Robin: Holy crap, that link is just too hilarious. Thanks for passing it on.
Robin, I entered my son’s name, Fabio, and “The Sensitive Stranger” and then I howled with laughter until my dog left the room. I think I’ll do it again with myself and Tia Carrere.
Thank you so much for posting that link.
Robin, I entered my son’s name, Fabio, and “The Sensitive Stranger†and then I howled with laughter until my dog left the room. I think I’ll do it again with myself and Tia Carrere.
Oh, yeah, the same sex ones are the BEST! Don’t you want to try every possible combination of stories, names, and celebrities?
Shamara…what exactly does that mean? Do you break it down to SHAMara? Sounds tacky. I’m going to take the high road and not add another comment to the she-man section. But if anyone can direct their attention away from the shadow-of-male-proof and to the guys face, am I the only one who noticed his obvious disgust? Either he realized he’s kissing a man or he/she has some seriously rank breath.
why does she have to have the name Shamara? *sigh*
Do romance heroes have digestive problems? – lots of ‘Winds’ and ‘Thunders’ out there.
They probably had Mexican food. Or forgot to take Beano.
Gah, when it first became apparent that Shangri-llama…la? was mannish, I, being the virgin I am, looked at her face.
Which struck me as being rather drag-queeny.