So remember when I was trying to identify the color of the year for contemporary romance? That began because I was constantly noticing the repeated color schemes on book covers in NetGalley. My brain loves a pattern, and it loves to collect things.
I’ve got another collection for you. It’s from my folder named Hanging Off a Horse.
Have you noticed how many old skool romance covers there are with one or more people just hanging off the side of a bewildered or belligerent horse?
There are SO MANY.
First, my apologies for the size of some of the images.
Second: WHAT. Setting aside the ruffles and the puffy sleeves and the vest and whatever is happening in his crotchular area, there is NO WAY they aren’t about to fall off that horse, right? What kind of bicep strength does this guy have?
Third: the tagline is exquisite: On the Wings of Burning Desire, They Soared Beyond Love’s Ecstasy.
What does that mean?
The cover copy has proven difficult to find but I did locate this summary: Traveling from Paris during the French Revolution to New Orleans, from lush Virginia plantations to a new nation’s capital, Aimee de Chartres and master spy Lucian Napier, fueled by their passionate love, lead a life of intrigue and danger.
I’m sure it’s not problematic at all. No, totally fine.
The shirt is unbuttoned but STILL TUCKED IN. AND there’s a cape!
But again, how strong are this guy’s biceps? Is this like when you have young kids around and they get picked up or carried in a handled carrier, and one bicep ends up WAY bigger than the other (I speak from experience here)?
What are the workout benefits of holding up an entire person who is hanging off the side of a horse?
And also, is she even ON the horse? Where is her other leg?
There are going to be a lot of “where is the other body part” questions, I predict.
Also, GUESS WHAT THE HEROINE’S NAME IS.
He rode out of the darkness astride a coal-black stallion, appearing from nowhere like a phantom in the night. To the lords and ladies he robbed, he was an unprincipled highwayman, a common thief who deserved to swing from the gallows on Tyburn Hill. But to Lady Bliss Paynter, he was a thrilling enigma, an uncommonly skilled lover who had stolen nothing from her but a breathless kiss.
Promised to an influential nobleman, Bliss knew she could have no future with the man who haunted her daydreams. But before she resigned herself to a loveless marriage, she would know one night of ecstasy in those forbidden arms…one night of wild passion in her lonely bed…one night of throbbing intimacy that would change all nights to come.
Bliss Paynter. Also, points for an “uncommonly skilled lover” identified by one kiss, and also “throbbing intimacy.”
Where is her other leg?
What is she standing on? Is she emerging from a sea of…pink slime? Wait, is this the same pink slime as the other cover for Meet Poop? When was the art direction meeting that said pink slime was THE cover treatment?
Also, her arm is bent up and back toward him, so she’s…what lunging up at him on that horse? No wonder the horse looks so bewildered. Even the geese are like, Nope.
Also, if you’re wondering whether the cover copy is thoroughly offensive, why, yes, yes it is.
It’s so bad I’m putting it behind a spoiler tag with TWs.
VULNERABLE GIRL
Even though seventeen-year-old Luci hadn’t a friend in the world, the slender, willowy half-breed knew she could handle herself with anyone—anyone except Johnny Ace. The full-blooded Pawnee scout’s heated glance made her shiver with fear and a tingling sense of anticipation. When he appeared in her quarters, she tried to run away, but she couldn’t escape his demanding embrace. She shrieked that she detested him. . . but Luci’s body spoke much more eloquently of her desire!
VENGEFUL SCOUT
Because they had killed his father, Johnny Ace had sworn to forever call the Cheyenne his enemy. Even though that part-Cheyenne laundress at For MacPherson was sexy and alluring, the Indian tracker knew he could never harbor tender thoughts about the chit. Then he came upon her all alone, and instantly lust raced in Johnny’s veins. Before he could reconsider, the virile male was clasping his beautiful prey. Damning the consequences, he ravaged her mouth with kisses, eager for the moment when he would enjoy her fiery, tempestuous CHEYENNE CARESS.
Johnny. Ace. I hope his horse kicked him.
And while we’re here in the depths of embarrassment:
What is she standing on? Or does this guy also have the Bicep of She’s Hanging Off My Horse?
And is he wearing a puffer jacket? A fur? What is that? It’s hard to tell at this size, but this eBay listing has a slightly larger image:
First, I’m naming that hair color “Romance Heroine Red.”
Second, he’s got…something in his hair. And looks like Joey Tribbiani. And maybe that’s an iridescent Starter jacket?
Ok, I need you to brace yourself for this next one because it’s hilarious. No beverages nearby, no cats to startle?
Good.
He’s half horse, right? Like before we even get to the whole composition, that guy is 1/2 horse form this angle, right?
From midnight until dawn, she tasted rapture in his arms. Well, presuming he’s likely hung like one…?
Wait, if it’s just the back half of a horse, is he a Centaur? Or a Minotaur? I think the latter.
She’s clearly straddling his leg while hanging off the horse, and wow, there’s a lot of strain on the seams here: her bodice, his jacket, the horse’s patience.
Seriously, I feel badly for these horses.
Also, given the number of dogs named Bandit I’ve met in my life, “Bandit’s Brazen Kiss” is in my experience damp, slobbery, and usually scented with eau du Kibble.
This is one of my all-time favorite romance covers:
If you haven’t seen my close up exploration of The Raider Barbie, please enjoy. Don’t miss the abs on that doll.
I don’t think either of them are on the horse. The horse looks very upset or insulted, either way, but I can’t see how nary a buttock betwixt them is on the horse or near a saddle. So they’re BOTH hanging off the horse?
No wonder that horse looks appalled.
Now, my last three, in a subfolder I named, “Hwut?”
Y’all, things can get weird even if everyone’s on the horse and not hanging off the side by one bicep and a prayer.
She’s not hanging OFF the horse. Not yet, anyway.
Horse people, fill me in: is she going to stay on the horse’s back? He clearly has a saddle, but I’m a little worried she’s going to slide off and take a hoof for the face.
Also, if her hair is anything like mine, after all that wind, she’s going to have hours and hours of tangles to deal with.
First, John De Salvo’s pecs are certainly a-poppin’, and I kinda like that blue…doublet? he’s “wearing.”
But if he’s on a saddle, what is she sitting on? And if he’s not in a saddle, and she isn’t either, are they about to go flying into those flowers? She seems precariously perched.
Also, y’all. I am this horse.
Looking straight at the reader like, ‘Do you see what nonsense I have to put up with? Look at these two.’
And then, this is not a historical romance, but it fits the theme and also I just need everyone to see it.
WHAT is that saddle?
Is this a real saddle?
Is this like the tandem bike of horse saddles except you face each other like on the Amtrak?
IS THERE A POMMEL. IF SO WHERE IS IT.
No, wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.
I love the detail of the sparkle in her boots (So cute) and how they’re holding hands but…seriously, horse-wise, what is happening here?
And that’s all from my latest weird collection. Who knows what strange cover art I’ll start grabbing next. If you see any fun “hanging off the side of the horse” covers, please send them my way?
And don’t fall off any horses today, k?
