While looking up the links for the Alexis Harrington review, I found this cover:
WOW. OH, man, what the hell is he doing? No, really, tell me: what the hell is going on in there? Caption this cover! You’ve got 24 hours to leave your best caption in the comments. I’ll pick the winner (and feel free to nudge my vote), who will receive a $25 gift card to the bookstore of his or her choice.
Really, what the hell is going on in there?!
Oh, God, please have mercy! This was my very first book and I HATED that cover (and the following two that featured this guy)! I had to do booksignings with himl, and it was mortifying. At one particular signing, a women’s fair in Portland, females were all queued up to meet him and have their picture taken with him. The deal was that they had to buy my book, which I would sign. I’m not sure they even noticed that part. A lot of them asked him if HE’D written the book, and others down the line wanted to know why I was writing in them. It was hair-raising.
Hello, ladies. Look at my hand, now back at my chest, now back at my hand, NOW BACK AT MY PECS. Where are you? You’re in a hot air balloon, with the man your man could smell like!!!
“You’re skin, so soft, but not as soft as my lovers! He’s here, behind the curtain, let me show you!
“I’m so cold!”
“Here, huddle close to my man titty while we curl up in the curtains!”
You smell like you’re dead, but I don’t want to open my eyes to find out. I’m going to climb up this curtain and get away now, k?
Love the lactaction consultant line, Brianna. I don’t know if votes count in this contest but you get mine.
She’s so beautiful . . . it’s too bad that her neck is so weak that unless I hold her head juuuust right, it’ll roll off her shoulders.
“CRAP. I killed another one. Better wrap her up in these drapes and hopefully no one will notice until I’m miles down the road…”
Well, it seems to me that he’s pulling down those curtains to act as a hasty shroud for the lady he accidentally crushed with his manly muscles, while he was trying to remove her gown…
“A riveting, man-titty warming, curtain clenching story guaranteed to make you wonder what the hell he’s doing with that precariously placed curtain!”
Aha, my lovely! Now that you have learned of my secret desire for surprise buttsecks, I will snap your neck, swathe your head in this sheet, and – have buttsecks with your rotting corpse!
OMG, where did THAT come from? I think I’m channelling Laurell K. Hamilton.
“Bitch, lick my nipple or it’s curtains for you! Like…for your dinner. You know, cause I’ll make you eat this curtain. And that will kill you. So…damn. What smells so good? My hair smells so good. Like clean ponies and warm bread. Mmmm….wait? Where were we? Oh right. Lick it already! Don’t wince!”
Darling girl, it’s the latest in do-it-yourself surrogacy. It’s traditional, homeopathic and organic and comes recommended by all the guys on “Queer Eye.” All we have to do is cut a strategic hole in this drape and then wrap you in it. That way when we can engage in 100% fresh squeezed, no sugar, no trans fat, organic, sewn by blind nuns in the alps heterosexual sex without all of that nasty begermed physical contact. After I release my seed into your womanliness I will immediately cleanse myself by washing my manstick with oven cleaner and drinking copious amounts of vodka. Nine months later my lover Sven and I will return for our wunderkind.
“You’ll tell me who’s done your boob job or I’ll snap your neck girlie! I think I need more silicone in my lips, and this one looks TASTY!!”
Also channeling “Sleeping with the enemy” – “I told you to iron these curtains first! You stupid bitch, can’t do anything right. I’ve just straightened all the towels in the bathroom..”
spamword indeed39 -she was indeed 39, and a testament to plastic surgery