Cover Critique: Special Guest Post Edition

Today I have a very special guest temporarily taking over the cover critique reins, so I'd like to give a big Supernatural Snark welcome to my dad. For those of you that missed last week's cover critique commenting debacle, let me briefly explain why he's on the blog today. You see, my dad thought it would be hilarious to pose as disgruntled romance cover designer Mark and give me a lengthy dressing down in the comments–threatening to sue while also making a plethora of snarky comments of his own regarding the covers in question. Not amusing. When I was finally informed that Mark was actually my very own father and not a real commenter, I decided he should put his creative sarcasm to better use and do an actual post. So, this week I've asked him to give us a man's perspective on one of my very favorite covers I've critiqued in addition to one completely new design masterpiece, thinking what better way to celebrate a Friday than to dazzle you all with his impressive wit? And, by the way, my dad's name is actually Bruce, not Mark. Hope you enjoy!



Okay, Jenny, I will accept as just punishment for pulling your leg last week that I should have to provide my perspective on some of these covers you have so much fun with. And after all, I’ve read a lot of books (not these books, but books) and judged them by their covers like everyone else, so I’m thoroughly qualified to comment. Sort of.

I read your critique of this cover and found your bafflement puzzling. It’s quite plainly obvious that our hero character has, quite literally, “thrown over” one woman in favor of another. I assume this is a murder mystery story, and that the feet we see are those of the victim. And I will admit, it seems a little tacky that our hero would carry on with his true love right there in front of the corpse and everything. But hey, maybe Woman No. 1 killed Woman No. 2 (or vice versa) and hero boy is most grateful. You have to read the book to find out–that’s the whole purpose of the cover, after all.

What I find baffling is, what kind of car is that? Clearly it’s a station wagon–how else could the corpse be in that position? Our hero drives a station wagon? And it looks like a new Lexus (but it can’t be because they don’t make station wagons) with a nice curved handle anchored by real African rosewood trim. But then the window must have come from a 1949 Plymouth with that ungainly window divider.

And why is the headliner falling down? And why is it red when the interior of the car is blue?

Those are the things that baffle me. (See, I can find fault too when it’s deserved.)

Oh, and one other thing. Your critique mentioned a reason why in your view, the hero must have a “tongue like a giraffe.” Where did you learn such things, young lady?

*BLUSHES* You were supposed to gloss over that part of my commentary Dad, that way we could both continue to live happily in our father/daughter bubble of denial that either of us is anything other than virginal and celibate. Making mention of the giraffe tongue situation threatens to pop that bubble, and I need it in place to function properly on a day to day basis, so your acknowledgments of my use of sexual innuendo must cease and desist immediately!

And only a man would be more interested in the car aspect of this cover than the weird contortionist sexual extravaganza taking place on (or seemingly through) its seats.



Well, gee, this is just about the perfect cover. You looked just like that when you were a baby, all cuddly in your little pink sleeper with the little bunny hat. Yes, even the blurry focus reminds me of all the pictures we took when you were a little girl. Ahhhhh.

This being a “romance” novel (says so right there on the cover), obviously we’re viewing the RESULT of the romance, and it looks to have been a happy conclusion. I do wonder what’s happened to Mommy here; perhaps that’s the intrigue contained inside the book. Maybe Daddy did something nefarious, creating another murder mystery. Maybe that’s not Daddy but a kidnapper. Or maybe it’s Hugh Hefner in his very early days raising Playboy Bunnies from the get-go. Yeah, that’s the ticket! It’s a book about a guy raising an entire army of beautiful, sexy women who will go on some kind of mission like “The Dirty Dozen” (in that case, I guess it would be more like a platoon) and save the country from some dastardly doings.

See, it’s the perfect cover. Probably be a 3D movie and video game someday.

And I bet you’ll never ask ME to do a cover review again!

Apparently my dad is somewhat preoccupied with murder mysteries and feels it necessary to rationalize away all sexual content into something involving brutal death. Interesting. Perhaps this has something to do with his own coping mechanisms with regard to the aforementioned father/daughter bubble of denial. While I think he is on to something with his Playboy Bunny line of thought, I just want to point out that the title of this book is actually very creepy when read in conjunction with this image. The title has a sexual undertone given that it's a Silhouette Romance but yet we are shown a man nuzzling an actual baby. Not a woman he calls baby. An actual chubby-cheeked infant with an unfortunate hat on her head. It's just uncomfortable really.

Also, I will neither confirm nor deny that my cheeks were this chubby when I was little, I think Dad grossly exaggerates in our comparison! And this baby looks constipated, I'm quite certain my baby bowels always worked properly and such a look never graced my angelic face;)

Thanks for stopping by Dad, and happy Friday everyone!