Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

Prince Blaze stormed through his fairy-tale castle on the cliffs above the sparkling blue-green sea. He needed a woman, desperately, urgently, or his kingdom, his birthright, his honor, would be lost!

His raven-wing hair flew around his face while angry color stained cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, and his heavy-lidded, lushly-lashed crystal blue eyes sparked the temper he was renown for. His seductive mouth twisted sardonically.

He was a powerfully, dangerously handsome man. Plus a prince.

He would take a bride that very day, he determined, willing or not, to save Freedonia from the clutching, greedy hands of his evil and wicked, and hunchbacked uncle.

“You there!” He pointed at the servant girl with a long, imperious finger as his hard-muscled body quivered with lust and fury. “What is your name?”

The girl, a golden-haired beauty sprang to her feet, her hurried curtsey splashing water from her scrub bucket on her dainty toes. Her pixie-green eyes widened in apprehension, and secret desire. “Your Highness, I am Calliope.”

Blaze seized her, dragging her to him to wage war on her soft, innocent mouth with his own. He felt his temper struggle against a wild need, a new sensation, and a pride of ownership, while she quivered against him like a fawn in a cold wind and gurgled seductively in her throat.

“You’ll do!” he proclaimed, and ordered his major domo to have her prepared for the wedding. She was probably a whore using those lovely eyes as a disguise of innocence.

But Freedonia was at stake.

Okay, it’s just a first draft, but I think it could win a pamper hamper.

You need some serious snarkage for their “probe your talent” line.

‘Scuse me… I have to go hurl now.

from the clutching, greedy hands of his evil and wicked, and hunchbacked uncle.

Is his name Richard?

“And if you’re like me, the image brings up a tragic memory.”

But why would you assume that the purchasers of this book are like you?  Or that they would use the same cover to sell this in the North American market?

One of the things I find most fascinating, about writing for M & B, is the way the packaging on my book changes, from country to country.  The contents might be the same, but every reprint gets a different spin to suit M & B’s idea of the audience.

As far as shocking images go?  Yeah, in the US, this would be kind of Oklahoma City.  But this is a UK book (or perhaps Aussie)  Why would anyone in England think about Oklahoma City? 

Although we think that we are the center of the universe, really we’re not.  They have problems over there, too.  And a different set of emotional triggers.  A while back, I was having an interesting (and friendly) discussion with a British friend, about politics and terrorism.  She said that subconsciously, she associated burkas and veiled faces with IRA terrorists, who wore balaclavas.

????  Never having been worried about the IRA, here in Wisconsin, that took me for a loop.  But I found it fascinating.

So, although this cover wouldn’t work for me, I’d throw it in the mental pile with Twiglets and Catherine Tate, and other British things that I just don’t get.

And then I’d probably pick up the book.  Because I know Laura, and she’s a peach.

“The Greek Tycoon’s Convenient Bride”

Its release date is April 1st. 

CAN we hope that it really IS a joke?

I suspect not, but it would be nice.

Where the hell did I leave my eye-bleach???

I hate to tell you, Nora, but you went over the word limit.

Only 200 words? Seriously?

You know, I actually know someone in real life who named their child Calypso - now there’s a romance name waiting to happen if ever I heard one…

Nora,

That was the bestest. I just nearly snorted coffee on the keyboard.

BTW Nora, on a completely different random topic: I just finished Villa and LOVED IT! Loved it. Can I say that again? Loved it. You rule.

This could be my last comment ever…

*dead from giggling over Nora’s entry*

Sorry, the words “pamper hamper” should never be written so seriously by Nora Roberts. I think I pulled something trying to laugh quietly enough not to disturb my coworkers.

She was probably a whore using those lovely eyes as a disguise of innocence.

But Freedonia was at stake.

And the whore who “gurgles seductively” shall save them all…

As a side note: I believe I know have a full blown girl crush on you, Nora. I hope you don’t mind.

* sneaks in*
Is it just me, or does “Prince Blaze” bear a striking resemblance to Roake?

He was a powerfully, dangerously handsome man. Plus a prince.

The voice in my head read the first part really plummy and the “plus a prince” part in a cheerful sort of tv advertisement aside.  I giggled.

That was very funny, Nora.  May you be showered in pamper hampers!  Oh.  Wait…  ;)

remind me not to read this while I’m eating lunch!  I just about choked on my pb & honey sandwich

Can we nominate someone for a Smart Bitch title?  Because I really, really want Nora to be the Comtesse de Pampre-Hampre.

Can we nominate someone for a Smart Bitch title?  Because I really, really want Nora to be the Comtesse de Pampre-Hampre.

I second this.

BTW, in the absence of a better place to tell Nora this - I met a 73 year old man on a group tour this weekend who in a book-desperation moment had picked up “Birthright”. He really liked it - so much so that he was eager when I told him I had loads more of her titles. I just loaned him “Blue Smoke”, “Carolina Moon”, and “Northern Lights”. 

Another convert :)

His raven-wing hair flew around his face while angry color stained cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, and his heavy-lidded, lushly-lashed crystal blue eyes sparked the temper he was renown for. His seductive mouth twisted sardonically.

Oh classic! Just classic!  Thank you, Nora, for the giggle!!  I say to go for the prize! ;-)

Nora wins.

Poor Freedonia.  One wonders if Calliope the conniving whore will truly be enough to save it from the clutches of the evil hunchbacked uncle.  I mean, that’s a lot of responsibility to carry around with dainty toes, no matter how seductively she gurgles.

When can we expect the next installment, Nora?  I want to know why Prince Blaze so desperately, urgently needs a woman to save Freedonia…

deb

I always wondered why the guys who had cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and the cruelly-punishing mouths got so much kissing action with the wenches. Ouch!

Thanks for the laugh, Nora. Definitely pamper-hamper-worthy. :)

The neatest part of Nora’s post is that it was long enough so that her name didn’t pop up right away. I was reading and chortling with glee, and as I scrolled down to the end and spotted “Nora Roberts” I swallowed all my chortles in one surprised gulp. (Don’t try this at home—it hurts!) I might have even gurgled, though probably not as artfully as Calliope. The woman even writes “pamper hamper”-worthy trash beautifully, and how is that fair???

When I read the “pamper hamper” part, my first thought was, “What, they think would-be romance novel writers are all young mothers in need of a year’s supply of diapers?” Heh.

In other things, well played, Ms. Roberts. Well played.

No, Nora Roberts, no! You must only use your super powers for good, never evil!

Hah, see this is why I’d read the unabridged dictionary if it were written by Nora Roberts.

My anti-spam is never54, but alas I am.

Hasn’t “The Greek Tycoon’s Convenient Bride” been used before?

Regardless, for any M&B with “convenient” in the title, I think the cover art should be of the two protagonists outside a 7-11. One could be drinking a Big Gulp; the other could be pumping gas.

Also, I personally use the word “hamper” like this: “Those kids on their cell phones are really hampering my enjoyment of this film. Shut it, dumb kids!” Whatever this thing M&B is giving out may impede pampering like kids on a cell phone. I’d watch out for it.

Just to make the point that we are, in fact, all different - I quite liked that cover.  It was clear to me that the child had been rescued and so (though there might be collateral damage) there was no need for fear.  I’m not American and I’m not familiar with the image of the Oklahoma City bombings you refer to, so it didn’t ring those bells for me.

I think Firefighter = sexy as hell and Man Holding Baby = sexy as hell, so Firefighter Holding Baby = well, you do the sums.

Dude. Nora Roberts.

To be honest, I don’t know what the fuss is about. Plus, I don’t think a bookstore in Australia has really got to be expected to find a pretty tenuous link between a cover that is gloriously trashy, and a bombing that happened on the other side of the world, years ago. America’s problems aren’t exactly at the forefront of every country’s minds… now if it were a gag with Steve Irwin there might be some problems…

” Now, I fully understand that the world is not tuned into US news at every moment, and my reaction is solely my reaction”
I don’t see “fuss”- merely a personal opinion.

Fabulous, Nora.

Are you casting the Marx Brothers as fairy godfathers to Prince Blaze?

;)

I went over the word limit? Well, crap, I will cut a bit in my second draft.

Hey, somebody got the Marx Brothers’ Easter Egg!

Prince Earl studied the convenient beauty before him, wondering who she was and why his cock was throbbing.  Was she the woman he’d done a cesarean on in his capacity as Chief of OB-GYN at Blessed Virgin Hospital? She had been desperate to keep her secret baby – or was that to keep her baby secret?  She had a billionaire bun in the oven, he’d delivered it, and then things got hot. 

Or was she the mousy secretary who’d objected when he roguishly hijacked a plane to rescue some Navy SEALS? She hadn’t realized that some thefts were noble. So what if a few of the passengers died? It was an omelette/eggs situation. When she complained he’d shut her up with a punishing (ow!) kiss.

There was only one way to find out. A face he might forget; a tongue, never. He seized her mouth with his. He tasted chocolates…Stilton cheese…champagne…gourmet spotted dick pudding. The sensual mix rekindled his memory. She was not the billionaire’s pregnant mistress or the virginal, dumpy-yet-strangely-attractive secretary. No, she was the woman who had tamed him – the dominatrix who had given him…a ring? Just last night?

And he suddenly realized why his cock was throbbing.

I think the most WTF of this entire article is their use of the word “probe”.

I really should have pointed out that my spamword for the post was “writing69”.  Even though I’m pretty sure that’s not allowed in Presents-style novels.

Ah, the joys of language differences even when we supposedly speak the same one. Yes, we have the baby product pampers here, but not to the same level of product recognition, so the word is far more associated with its other sense - luxury, looking after self, decadence.

The are plenty of words that mean different things in the various strands of English - eg, when North Americans root for a football team, we Aussies hope they’ve got enough condoms :-)

On another note, the fact that Angus and Robertson - one of our major bookstore chains - is now going to be stocking Harlequin Mills and Boons is great for HMB readers and authors. They’re mostly only available in KMart, Target and Big W here, so to have a bookstore chain recognising them is a positive development.

However, on the negative side - those contest guidelines! Ouch! Not good. Not good at all - for readers or authors or the genre as a whole. Although I have no knowledge about the contest other than what’s here, I would have thought that A&R would have consulted with HMB on the matter - but I can’t help but wonder if the departure over the past few months of a number of key staff from HMB’s Australian office has meant that there’s few staff left to give good advice on matters such as these.

Check out the cover of Jill Shalvis’s book Aftershock.

http://www.amazon.com/Aftershock-Harlequin-Temptation-No-Heat/dp/037325945X

It came out in September of 2001 (yeah, that month.) Jill’s a good friend, and I know the sales on that book were absolutely through the roof.

Maybe it was just the incredible timing—perhaps people wanted to read about rescue and hope and a happy ending for a firefighter. But in any case, there’s definitely a track record that the rescue worker tenderly holding a baby cover sells. 

Nora: You rock.

Tina C:

The voice in my head read the first part really plummy and the “plus a prince” part in a cheerful sort of tv advertisement aside.  I giggled.

But wait, there’s more. Order in the next 20 minutes and you will also get a free set of steak knives.

But wait, there’s more. Order in the next 20 minutes and you will also get a free set of steak knives.

Watch as we use one to cut through this tin can—and then a tomato!

Bron - Oh, I know both meanings. But as an American, the image that brought to mind was just too funny. :) Particularly since the word “hamper” could refer to a container where dirty clothes (or diapers) could be thrown as easily as it could refer to a picnic-basket type hamper full of luxurious items.

Language is strange, indeed! :)

No Nora, don’t shorten that. It’s so pretty in all its lush, decadent, adverbial glory.

I’m surprised no one’s mentioned Angus & Robertson’s last appearance on this blog. Since their stores suck and their attitude to books suck, not even the delicious prospect of submitting a gay version of this tripe, and watching corporate heads spin around and spew pea soup, could induce me to enter this.

But how bloody romantic is a dressing gown, for pete’s sake? And not even a pair of fur-lined handcuffs? Sounds more like a single woman’s consolation for not having a date, than what you’d use if you had one.

i broked the intarwebs, sorry - can someone fix that a tag for me?

Thanks, Nora!

I was thinking that the Marx Fairy Godfathers could give Prince Blaze the following:

Groucho could bestow cleverness,
Chico could bestow fiscal discipline,
Harpo could bestow a sense of humor,
Gemmo could bestow a pair of Wellies, and
Zeppo could bestow a sense of moderation.

Alas, except for Groucho’s gift, none of the others are remotely romantical.

:)

I thought about it some more and like these gifts better:

Groucho could bestow his mustache,
Chico could bestow his hat,
Harpo could bestow his car horn, and
Zeppo could bestow his hair oil.

Also, Gemmo should be Gummo and I left him out this time ‘cause he stopped performing before the other four made it big on Broadway.

:)

Can we nominate someone for a Smart Bitch title?  Because I really, really want Nora to be the Comtesse de Pampre-Hampre.

Dear God, yes, thirded. Give that woman her title!!

Is it bad that I read “Fans of the bodice ripper unite” as “Fans of the bodice ripper untie” and immediately had a picture of dozens of women in corsets unlacing them in the middle of an Australian bookstore?

Regarding the firefighter with the baby, as a non-American I quite liked the image. Definitely one of the less annoying Mills & Boon covers, though I wondered what a firefighter was doing on the cover of something labeled a Medical romance. And I actually do have faint memories of the Oklahoma City bombing and the photo in question, but I would never have made the connection, had Sarah not pointed it out.

I think, in many ways this issue is similar to a recent case where some American viewers complained because a character in a British film or TV show happened to have the same name as a notorious murderess in the US.

An image or reference that may be offensive in one country can be completely innocent in another.

If Nora Roberts is not already a member of the Smart Bitches nobility there is something dreadfully wrong with this universe.

Unless she renounced her title to show solidarity with the common folk of Freedonia, as they seek to overthrow the hunchback’s Fearsome Tyranny. Which is always a possibility.

Nora, I bow before you, I am unworthy, so I can only sing a few verses of “Everyone Says I Love You” in your honor.

Hail Freedonia!

My husband wrote this:

Duke Greekopoulus opened his eyes to the sharp clear light of the morning.  His bed felt unfamiliar, like he had forgotten it; the sheets were specifically warmish.  Who am I? he thought questioningly.  Where am I?  How did I get here?  Suddenly a shape moved next to him with a seductive movingness.  The duke turned to face a naked, large-breasted, blonde-type-haired woman.  “Who are you?” Duke Greekopoulus asked her with an aching lust.  “I don’t have a baby!” the woman cried large-breastedly.  “Seriously!  No baby!  No baby at all!  I swear to God!”  She lapsed into a childless silence.

There was a pregnant pause.

There was a pregnant pause.
Ahahahaha! Win!

If Nora Roberts is not already a member of the Smart Bitches nobility there is something dreadfully wrong with this universe.

I always assumed she was the Queen. Or the Goddess. Or both.

“Calliope?  Calliope? Your 2 o’clock is here!”

I shot my intercom a furtive finger; it wasn’t Melody’s fault my mother was an idiot who named me for a steam whistle with delusions of grandeur.  Didn’t make me like my first name any better, though. 

With a sigh of impending doom—I’d seen the resumes on queue for today—I stood and headed for the reception area.

It was worse than I thought.  My 2 o’clock was about 6 feet tall.  That was his good quality.  He had a windblown mess of blond hair, with a couple of braided strands stuck here and there as if his 4 year old sisters had played hairdresser with him just prior to the interview.  Surely not, though.  Surely, no 4 year old sister would have dressed him in a flowy white shirt, complete with puffy sleeves.  Nor suggested the skin tight breeches—were they really leather?!?  Good Lord.  He looked like a freaking pirate straight off the cover of those bodice rippers Melody read endlessly instead of picking up the company main phones occasionally.

I glanced down at his resume to double check his name.  The hell?!?  “Raece Caighe”

“Er….Race?” I tested the pronunciation waters tentatively.

“Reece” he corrected.  “Reece Cage”

Holy mother of God.

I held out my hand.  “I’m Calliope; I’ll be conducting your interview today for the position of insurance adjuster.”

Melody interrupted me.  “You know Calliope?  I have a ton of messages for her and I can’t remember what room she’s in!”

I took the messages with a smile, “I’ll get them to her.  No problem, Melody.”

Raece peered at me quizzically.

“Don’t mind her,” I reassured him, ushering him down the hall to my office. “She’s got amnesia.”

Count me in as another non-North American who doesn’t find the idea of firefighter+baby squicky in the slightest. Well, if it’s a male firefighter, he’s not going to do much for me anyway.

Naturally, we’re probably all familiar with Oklahoma, but I don’t recall any such image in the media in the places where I was living. Really, for us antipodeans, no biggie (and I’m sure attractive for some - although I really don’t get the whole +baby thing for romances.

Nora, is that the first paragraph to your 2010 HC release, or the first in your trilogy after your quartet?  LOL

When I saw “Pamper Hamper” my first reaction was why would they offer a diaper Genie for a prize.

I’m going to back you up on this, SB Sarah. Maybe you’d primed me, but except for the smile on his face and the fact that the baby isn’t torn and bleeding, that picture is hauntingly reminiscent of Baylee Almon.

I clicked on the link before reading the paragraphs after, and yeah - that image is disturbing to me too.

I didn’t immediately think “Oklahoma city bombing”, but I knew it looked vaguely familiar and I got all sort of BAD!  BAD! BAD! vibes just looking at it.

Although, the cover actually makes a perverse sort of sense.  (minus the lazy “I don’t want to bother with a real background” inferno)  Part of what makes it appealing to non-Americans is the same reason why the image of Baylee Almon was so heartbreaking.

The firefighter held her so protectively and you really, really, really wanted to pretend that he had saved her after all.  That would have made it such a nice, hopeful image and would have provided solace amongst everything else.  But even before hearing/reading that he hadn’t, you could see defeat in the way he held and looked at her.

Here the photo we are talking about, for anyone who hasn’t seen it.

What’s the matter with the world?  Why, there ain’t but one thing wrong
with every one of us—and that’s “selfishness.”
    —The Best of Will Rogers
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