Candy: Look at the calculating look in that hussy’s face. She’s totally trying to figure out which part of him to eat first, squeezing different parts of him like a supermarket shopper would a borderline-ripe piece of fruit.
And he doesn’t look too bad for somebody who’s been dead these last five months, does he? Hooray for barrels of rum and the preservative capabilities thereof. But it’s so sad when you’re forced to eat your deceased shipmates.
Sarah: You know, once she nails him, and one hopes that rigor mortis has affected key areas for her sake at least, she can nail him to the bow of the ship instead of that mermaid lady that ships usually have.
Pity he died with such a startled expression on his face, though.
Candy: C’mon everybody! “A la tuhuelpa legria macarena,
“Que tuhuelce paralla legria cosabuena,
“A la tuhuelpa legria macarena,
“Eeeh, macarena!”
Sarah: What is he pointing at with his wee bitty fingers? Is he telling her to get down on the ground so that he and his girl-horse can use her skirt as a picnic tablecloth?
Is he demonstrating his fine 70’s disco skills as one of the more blonde Village People to Candy’s fine Mayan-tinged Spanish translation?
“Look, a snake!”
“In your dreams it’s a – oh, over there! Yes, that is a snake!”
Candy: And from the macarena, we move on to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller!” Or maybe they’re trying to poke each other’s eyes, Three Stooges-style. Either way, what bliss.
Sarah: “You have some schmutz… right here-”
“Don’t touch me! Dance! Only dance!”
“But your face – you just have a little bit of -”
“No! We must dance the dance of the thousand dances!”
“Just lemme lick this napkin and wipe that schmutz off your face!”
Candy: Whoa. Look at the angle of her neck. Fucked. Up. “If It’s Tuesday, There Must Be Corpses!”
This book also gets my vote for Best. Title. EVAR.
Sarah: I look at this cover, and I look at the title, and I look at his goofy, goofy face, and I have no words. I sit here and giggle like Butthead. Tuesdays with Morrie would have been a MUCH better movie if Albom had followed this format.
Also, how much does her back hurt now that he’s snapped her fourth vertebrae? She’s going to need that dildo as a spinal brace.
Bwahahahahahahahahahaaa! Oh, and bwahahaha!
It is officially a sweep. I knew you would put those covers to good use…
I.Have.No.Words.
I’m just speechless. And I’m never speechless.
But I am laughing my freakin ass off.
Ohmigod, I feel so sorry for the authors of those books! For all I know If It’s Tuesday, There Must be Dildos was originally titled The Bobbsey Twins Visit the Farm, but some smartass editor thought it wouldn’t sell.
And to be at the mercy of that—I hesitate to use the word because it sounds mendacious—art department…honestly, I feel their pain.
And I laughed my ass off. Schadenfreude, indeed!
Omigod Omigod Omigod!!
Hey, if bestselling authors can get the one hibiscus flower or the manor estate (neither of which tend to have anything to do w/the story) why can’t these smaller presses please or pretty please, I’l be your best freh-end, get rid of the bad three-D, I died last Tuesday, cover art?
Omigod Omigod Omigod!!
Tears. In my eyes. I can’t stop laughing.
The neck on that last one. Didn’t anyone at the publisher notice that it looks like a still from that movie “Death Becomes Her”?
The hussy in “Wild Cat” really needs a meal. Very badly. Even one pectoral muscle from that guy would really help meet her daily nutritional need. Did you look at her upper arms? She needs one of those stickers that I used to see pasted over ads with too-skinny models models in them: “Feed me.”
OMG, have those cover designers ever taken a lesson in the use of Photoshop?
Those top everything you’ve come up with so far, and I follow this cover column for some time now. 🙂
Man I just laughed my ass off. I didn’t even notice that chick’s neck was broken because I couldn’t stop laughing at his face. That is the goober-face of the year. I wonder if it is part of a series? ‘If it’s Monday, there must be nipple clamps.’ ‘If it’s Wednesday, bring on the handcuffs.’ Oh it kills me, I am cracking up here.
The other covers are hilarious but that is the worst (best?) title and cover I’ve ever seen.
Ok, the guy on Wild Cat – doesn’t he seem sort of…. well… waxy? He looks like one of those life like dolls that you can buy and “play” with. Not that I have one or anything…. I just saw it on one of HBO’s sex thing-y’s. Oh, and what’s with her head and neck? Did anyone else notice that they’re different colors?
And the ‘Siren’s Surrender’? I think their sumo wrestling.
But the last one is the best. That was truely a WTF!? moment.
Thanks for the laugh!
Gari
This is some group. I can’t stop laughing. I know I’ll be laughing to myself all day at inappropriate times. I’ve seen some lifeless heroes adorning covers, but the pirate mannequin has got to be the creepiest thing I’ve seen. The vacant eyes and the stiff arms…oh god. It looks like her hidden hand is behind his head turning it from side to side. She should just throw him overboard.
And what else is there to say about “If it’s Tuesday, It Must Be Dildoes.” Do you think her neck is at that bizarre angle because she didn’t want him to see her laughing at him? What’s up with that expression on his face? I know I can’t stop laughing. I also know that I’ll be looking this book up to see what it’s about. So perhaps, in a strange way the art department did it’s job in making me want to know more about this book.
Okay, now that I have recovered a bit I can add my own comments on what made me send these covers to ya’ll in the first place.
Wild Cat? Yeah. That’s a dead dude. And his unholy glare of doom? creeepy. Also, dude has no crotch bulge to speak of. I think he musta just had it bit off by a shark and has fallen in to catatonic shock as a result. Lastly. Why are they on a ship made of stone?
Hired Help? Why is the heroine dressed in a prom dress circe 1984? Why is the hero wearing one of those costumes where he is the cowboy upper torso and the front legs of the horse while trailing the rest behind him? Why is everything coated in urine? And what the hell does he have in his holster? I think it might be a rolling pin.
The Siren’s Surrender? She? Is creepy. And he? Looks very very scared.
If It’s Tuesday, There Must be Dildos? Look. The book is called If It’s Tuesday, There Must be Dildos. It features a heroine who has just had her maniacly smiling head twisted 180 degrees by the serial killer hero. Do I really need to explain it any more?
Good lord, I cannot WAIT to see how you use the rest!
O.M.G. Can’t breathe, I’m laughing so hard. That last one wins the title contest. Forever & ever amen.
OK. This person is proud to be the creator of the covers for Changeling Press. Why would anyone ever admit to being involved let along the creator?
what is with the buggy eyes?
After coming home through heavy idiot-filled traffic after being dismissed from jury duty (the case got delayed) and cleaning up the Aegean Stable of a kitchen (since the DH has been cooking and “cleaning” since Saturday,) this is just what I needed. I started to quiver uncontrollably and make little snorting sounds of laughter at Wild Cat. Is anyone else reminded of a foppish, rigor-mortissed, brunette Orlando Bloom being felt up by a mercenary-eyed necrophiliac Keira Knightley on this one?
Then came If It’s Tuesday, There Must be Dildos. And I laughed so hard tears squirted out of my eyes and my ribs are still heaving. Goddamn. Goddamn
Just what I needed. *heavy satisfied sigh* If It’s Monday, It Must Be Bad Poser Art.
*going off to chuckle some more*
I think the girl in Wild Cat was modeled on Teri Hatcher. I recognise those shoulder blades from a mile away.
I’d looove to see the sale figures for the Dildo novel, and the reasons customers bought it.
The artist for the second cover is definitely into watersports.
I didn’t know there was a new sub-genre of romance for zombies, but Wild Cat is clear evidence that this long-overlooked market is finally being serviced in a truly classy manner.
And I think “If it’s Tuesday, There Must be Dildos” is going to be a new catch-phrase for me. I just need to figure out some way to work that into conversation…
Holy Christ in a helicopter.
I…I….I….. (slaps self across face)
Are these “artists” secretly failed authors, bitter at the tits-high stack of rejection letters from these publishers, and now they’re seeking revenge? That’s the only explanation that doesn’t involve a serious speedball bender.
I was thinking about 20 minutes ago I don’t know when I’ll laugh again and then I turned on the computer, turned on to SB’s and got my answer.
You TRULY don’t know how much I needed this. Thank you!!!!!!!! The Tuesday Dildo one….. There are no words. Only laughter – the best medicine.
Wow. Just… wow.
I’m so tempted now to get a copy of Poser and do a little contest on my blog—Pick The Real Cover. I’d make several fake, horrible ones, then put up a real, horrible one.
There’s only… well, two problems.
1) Poser isn’t free.
2) This would require work.
So, not featuring on my blog anytime soon. Alas.
1) He was one of the folks fished out after the Titanic disaster. He’s still frozen. Frozen man meat.
2)More like the Staying Alive dance than the Macarena.
3)This is like Gay Man vs. Butch Woman.
“Don’t you EVER use my Prada again.”
“Oh, yeah, Beotch? I am SO going to scratch your eyes out.”
4) It IS like that scene from Death Becomes Her, when Meryl falls down the stairs. Maybe they’re the Dildoes of Immortality, to go with the Venom Cock.
I’m intriued.
Is the gentleman in the dildo cover actually applying said dildo to his lady friend?
Is she, in turn, about to comment to someone else in the room—an associate or sister perhaps—about his ministrations? Is she about to say something like:
“Yo, Blanche, this pink rubber one honks like hell! You gotta try it.”
Tuesday 22nd 10:18 GMT
07:06 Awoke. No dildoes.
07:14 Made big mug tea. No dildoes.
07:15 Switched on Radio 4. No dildoes.
07:16 Showered. No dildoes.
07:34 Breakfast. Brief excitement when date in muesli took on phallic shape. Further investigation revealed stray almond responsible for the illusion. No dildoes.
08:02 Left house for work. Walked along dock. Fishermen had wriggly things in tupperware. Not dildoes.
Am feeling rather let down. When are they due? Or are they on mount(a)in time? Are facilities blocking their entry at work? Surely it cannot all be a lie? Please advise.
It’s 10pm on Tuesday here, so those bloody dildoes have 2 hours to show up. If not, Tuesday’s a total write-off….
did anyone else notice that the guy on the dildo cover looks a bit like Data from Star Trek? It’s the robotic smile that he’s got going. Then again Data was fully functional in a number of positions. If this man’s got to play the dildo card, then one can only wonder…
It’s Tuesday! I am all excited like a kid on Xmas morning!
I’ve got the Astroglide. Where are my dildoes?
LOLOLO!
And what happens, I wonder, on Wednesday?
On Wednesday there must be funerals.
But that title sure has me intrigued enough to go check out the book.
Proof that a great title can overcome a disastrous cover.
(The other titles just don’t overcome the disasters, I’m afraid. I can’t be bothered to check out the story of the dead pirate, or the cross-dressing square dancers, or the tattoo lady.
The heroine on the cover of Devin Leigh’s Wildcat looks like a bloke in drag.
This is what happened when Laura Ingalls Wilder finally tired of gingham and preserves and ran away from Alonzo to open her own chicken ranch out west. She took her Ma’s household chore rhyme and twisted it for her own filthy promotional purposes. It was engraved in ornate script in the big glass mirror over the bar:
Watersports on Monday
Dildoes on Tuesday
Manacles on Wednesday
Whips on Thursday
Nipple clamps on Friday
Back-door lovin’ on Saturday
Rest on Sunday
goes outside… looks up at clear, cloudless sky… scratches chin, goes back inside.
Checks Weather channel… no mention of rain in the forecast…
Come on now! I’m ready to sing my heartfelt rendition of “It’s Raining Dildoes, Hallelujah!” drums fingers impatiently…
ROTFL, Amy E! It’s pouring here, so sing away!
Best. Entry. Evar!
I was holding back the laughter because in my office, if I laugh too much, people check to see if I was ok.
The phrase “If It’s Tuesday, There Must Be Dildos” has now become a catch phrase with a friend of mine. It sounds like something she would say in one of her many crazy stories of which there is no end. I sent this link to her and she loved it.
And EvilAuntiePeril, that was the funniest comment I’ve ever seen. I cried I was trying to hold back the laughter. Damn, now my makeup is all messed up.
These are just minor details when compared with everything else on the cover, but I’ve just realised that Dildo-man’s right arm is so long it’s positively creepy. In fact, he looks like one of those streeeetttch wrestling toys.
Also I can’t decide if it’s his chest hair or her split ends furring up the middle of the picture.
It’s Tuesday, so there must be dildoes… on my cat Eric.
OK, so that’s only ONE dildo.
OMG—Laughing so hard I’m crying.
The publishers have to know these aren’t just bad, but creepy bad, bug eyes, plastic skin, bad titles—eeekkk.
Candy’s cat Eric? Pretty.
Candy’s pyrex dildo? Also pretty.
The two of them together? I’m laughing so hard my eyes are watering, I think I tore a ligament, and my boss wanted to know what was so funny.
Gratefully, I work in the kind of place where everybody regularly visits the Smart Bitches.
E.D’Trix plus Candy equals recipe for disaster. If it’s Tuesday, it must be one of my favorite recipes.
Cats and dildoes? Should we be calling the ASPCA? Eric does not look amused. However, not knowing Eric, that may be his standard expression.
Poor Eric. Poor pets everywhere and the things we put them through for a good laugh.
Eric look like, what’s that? A hairless wesel? Can I eat it?
weasel*
And here I thought those covers had scared the typo demon away. 🙂
Sadly, the only thing that comes to mind when I look at these is:
I break with thee, I break with thee, I break with thee.
Or maybe it should be:
I break thee, I break thee, I break thee.
LOL
Corpses, indeed!