Happy gratuitous candy day! I hope, if you celebrate Halloween, that you get all the best kinds of candy that you like, and none of those Necco wafers, unless you like them, in which case, give me your address and I'll send you mine.
I received this email from Heather, who said, “Yes, I was shelving books in the romance section again. I found these treasures that simply demanded to be shared. This cover from “The Hawk and the Dove” is a fine example (from 1988!!!) of the heroine not laying in the hero's arms like a limp noodle.”
WHY YES. Yes, it is a fine example both of 1988 and of non-limp-noodle-heroines. Have a look!
This cover just has so much going for it: copious use of a color I'd describe as “vaguely dusty salmon.” Absolutely enormous nipples on the hero! And somehow they are both at sea and on top of some roses. It's amazing.
But the part I really, truly don't get, is what the hero is… clutching there. Here's a closeup:
First, I have no idea why his forearm on the right is melting. Maybe it's the heat?
But what is UP WITH THE BIRD? What's in his hand, and why is a bird on it?! Is that bird meant to be…suggestive?! What's going on with the wee birdy??
That's where you come in. Caption that cover! You can make it birdly or not so birdly, you can make his nipples sentient, whatever. All you have to do is caption that madness! The creator of the best caption will win a $25 gift card to the bookstore of his or her choice.
Standard disclaimers apply: open to anyone age 18 or older wearing blue pearls and a corset. International entries welcome. Void where prohibited. Mind the gap. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and purely coincidental. No birds were harmed in the making of this contest.
You have 48 hours to go mad with the captioning – and please feel free to “like” your favorites to try to sway my voting. I'll be soliticing the opinions of any random Australian I can grab to help me judge – if I can explain what I'm talking about before they run away quickly from the crazy American. I'll pick winners on Friday, 2 November.
Ready, set, go caption that cover! Or, dress as either of them or the bird tonight for Halloween!
While she knew he called it “Little Hawk,” she couldn’t help but think that he’d maybe gone too far with the piercing.
Who knew that a white-out splatter would make for a steamy segue-way… or a provocative mustache.
Yes, his fantastically lustrous locks had won him the girl. But how could he hide that it was all based on grooming in a symbiotic relationship he’d formed with a parasite-consuming bird?
Sure she was a hot red head, but a birdie is a boy’s best friend.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush?
No clever captions, but I am Australian and can be fairly random…
Captain Morgan thought unhappily on his conquered heart; a bad trade, he realized. It was a case of killing one bird with two stones.
She surprised him while his tweezing bird was still at work. How else could his arm hair be so lush, yet his chest so bare?
Help me little bird, she’s melting my arm!
(i found this one in my stash of old books when I cleaned out my mother’s house last year – it is just full of old skool goodness).
This is Paul. Want to see Peter?
Look into my eyes while I feel up your thigh so I can see if it is fleshy enough for my little bird to perch on. My boney finger just aint doing it for the little dude.
Pecker? I merely tweeted her.
With hair dark as night and skin white as snow, Snow Dwight was able to call all the birds and animals of the forest to assist in his seductions.
The bird is the word
She gave new meaning to giving him the bird.
An ornithological equivalent of pony play?
Because nothing says sexytime better than a little bird poop on the hand.
A Bird in the Hand is Worth Two in Her Bush.
As he listened to the chirping rising from below her skirts, he knew he would finally find out if a bird in the hand really was worth two in the bush.
Sorry, couldn’t resist.
He didn’t know how to tell her it was the bird, not the pussy cat, that got him hot and bothered.
Osprey gazed languidly at Columbine’s throat while tiny Tweetums perched on his finger and wondered how long it would take him to steal the bloody necklace so they could get out of there.
“Darling,” she whispered as she drew him closer, “if you ever steal my family’s heirloom tweasing bird again, I’ll pitch you overboard. Now put some pants on, my parents will be here soon.”
As she gazed into his vacant eyes, she realized he didn’t quite grasp the concept of tweeting…
There were rumours that he was in possession of the highly prized “hairy bird”. What this was exactly nobody could say but speculation – the kind that makes proper young ladies wide-eyed and in need of their smelling salts – was rampant. Little did they know that it truly was just a little hairy bird.
I can’t figure out a proper caption for this because my brain has totally been taken over by the bit of “Little Bird” sung at the beginning of the rape scene in Man of La Mancha.
Tayplex Platinum Tampons: They’re not very absorbent, but the decorative pendant at the end of the string lends a soupcon of sophistication to limo-exiting indiscretions at red-carpet appearances.
Put a bird on it!
Best wingman ever!
If you wanna pet my little chick, you can watch it grow into a huge cock.
Ye Gods! Her hair was so glorious in color that it made his little hawk stand with alert attention.
Yes, darling, you’re doing well with the bird in the hand, now go after the two in the bush!
“She had never known that making out with a man with a milk mustache could be so sexy… “
No clever caption – I am, however, very disturbed by the styrofoam castle floating out to sea.
The Hawk and his dovely one went to sea
In a pleatherish recliner chair.
She looked like Fergie, and he took his birdie
And they hoped that the sailing was fair.
The hawk looked up to the waves above
And sang with his budgerigar:
“O lovely pus…Princess! O Princess, my love,
What a purplish princess you are!
You are,
You are!
What a pussiful princess you are!”
Saddened that he could not find the little man in the canoe that she had told him about, he got her a small phoenix pendant instead.
It’s a bird in my hand AND I’m happy to see you.
If you like it, then you should have put a bird on it.
Kicked off the ship for diddling the Dove, Hawk swore he loved her and she threw herself overboard landing on her true luuuvv and they floated together out to sea. “I love you Hawk!” cried the slightly damp Dove. “And I you, my sweetling.” crooned the soggy Hawk. Alas, tho’ love can conquer all, it can’t keep the luuvvers from ending up salty and water logged, arms entwined, sleeping with the fishes.
As someone with a bird phobia (yes, I am aware that it is both irrational and absurd, thanks) I’m going to have to abstain from this contest. The mere thought of a bird nearby whilst engaging in sexytimes makes me shudder. Ick.
omg I have this book!It’s pretty bad lol