I love silliness. Specifically, the Uncycopedia’s definition of a romance novel. My top faves:
A good cover must be able to instantly quell the buyer’s instinctive urge to ponder “Do I really need to read another one of these books?”
Wow. I’m amazingly susceptible because I acquire new romance more often than I acquire food.
It at once probes the dewy moistness of plot, while it throbs with purpose, knowing no bounds in which its authors will stop to please and sate their gentle reader….
Martin shed all of his declensions. But she could not help it but to stare as this splendid vulgar Latin shed his cases. The nominative, accusative, and ablative cases were tossed upon the floor with an insouciance. With egality, fraternity, and liberty, Martin discarded the last of his genetive and dative cases.
But, alas, I could have done without R’shaun and Q’tana. I can think of some much less awful captions.
And since I love silliness, in honor of Carleen Brice’s National Buy A Book By A Black Author And Give It To Somebody Not Black Month I’m going to make that cover over and undo some of the not-at-all-latent racism inherent in the caption.
So how about…