Poor, poor Nora. Just when she thought it was safe to visit us, that we’d turned our snark attentions to Fabio or Changeling or even vintage Harlequins, along comes the genius and above-and-beyond dedication of Evil Auntie Peril, who found, assembled, and sent us images of the Czech and Russian covers for most of the In Death series. Forget adult beverage. Psychotropic drugs might be in order before ye enter here.
Poor Nora. Poor Eve. Europe has not been kind.
Betrayal in Death
Sarah: It’s the long lost Escher work, “Tempest in a Teacup,” right? Or can Eve make tea with people’s faces? Did someone cross Eve with Anita Blake? Mess with me? Bitch, I will Earl Grey Your ASS!
Candy: Amusement Park Ride Ideas That Never Quite Made It: “OK, so I have this GREAT new idea for a ride, right? So it’s these spinning teacups, like in the Tea Party ride? Except there are these faces of drowned women painted on the inside, right? And the cups on the ride keep spinning faster and faster and faster, until they break free from their moorings and crash on the floor, spilling the riders onto the ground and shattering the faces of the drowned women. It can serve as a third-wave feminist critique of the essentialist flaws in…hey, guys? Where you going? I’m not done with the pitch yet? Guys? I haven’t even gotten to the part where the teacups represent second-wave radical feminism and how the whole ride ties in with 21st-century conceptualizations of queer theory!”
Also, and not really a cover snark so much as a demonstration of how my brain goes to Very Silly Places at the slightest provocation: I looked at the cover and initially read “Bubba Ho-Tep.” I don’t know why I did, because the name really doesn’t look much like Bubba Ho-Tep. I think my Bruce Campbell fetish was just making itself known.
Sarah: Now that’s subtle. A sideways mullet. A Flashdance pose. And the certain knowledge that after she styles her hair, and does a little jig, she will munch on the cranium of her mate.
Candy: That’s some eerie juxtaposition, there—I mean, as if 80s hair and off-the-shoulder sweaters weren’t creepy enough. It also makes me view the Flashdance song with new eyes: She’s a maniac on the floor? And it cuts like a knife? Hell yeah it cuts like a freakin’ knife; how else do you think she gets the head off before she eats it?
Ceremony in Death
Sarah: She’s a ninja! With a crystal ball! And some pagan ritual-esque candles. And wax ear candling sticks! And some…nail files? Oh, forget it. I give up.
Candy: Mamas, don’t let your daughters grow up to be Raistlin Majere fanfic writers. Behold the dreadful fate that awaits those so accursed.