Cover Critique: The Goods

Let me preface this post by saying that my critiques of these covers are in no way, shape or form a reflection on the author, the content or the publisher. I know the authors have very little, if any, control over the design. These are strictly my thoughts meant simply to be humorous and not insulting.

Warning: This week's critique is probably not appropriate for workplace viewing and young eyes should be covered ;-)

Ungh. When I first came across this cover I blew snot all over my computer screen as a result of a decidedly unfeminine combination of a laugh/snort that had me thankful I work from home and therefore had no witnesses to the strangled noise and accompanying spittle that escaped me upon seeing Secret Santa. I'm actually having trouble typing I'm laughing so hard and I just can't bring myself to stop staring at his black-clad goods. LOOK AWAY JENNY! I've been trying to avert my gaze for the past five minutes, but his package calls to me. It clearly wants me to look at it and so I'm going to accommodate its desires.

I'll give you all a minute to fully absorb his tiny black panties and his bulbous assets before we move on.

....

Okay, there's really not a lot to move onto is there? This cover is just really all about his junk. There's no escaping it. It's all up in my face and the electric green "W" in Wadsworth just seems to be propping things up a bit doesn't it? And then there's the seam running down the middle of the microscopic piece of fabric covering his groin and I find myself continuously dissolving into fits of immature giggles the longer I look at this.

He seems to be pretty pleased with himself if that little smirk on his lips is any indication. He's got his hands (which seem a touch feminine to me) roaming his muscled torso, all "I'm a sexy hairless beast aren't I?", and I think it's safe to assume that if we could see his eyes they'd be glued south of the border just as ours are. I have to say the "secret" part of this title doesn't seem entirely fitting given there's not a whole lot left to the imagination and I'm extremely confident I know way more about this cover model than I ever wished to.

Seriously, I can't stop staring at it. Demon package release your hold on me!

Okay, sorry. Let's take a look at a different cover that is a touch sexier for all the things we can't see.


Ah, there we go. Sweet relief. I can look at this photo without having his manhood burned into my retinas forevermore. Aside from the strange skin condition he seems to have on his left shoulder (or does he have clouds floating past him?), this is a much more appealing cover I think. His junk is safely contained in underwear that will not haunt me for the rest of my days and we get teased just a little with the unzipped fly, but thankfully get to use the glory of our minds for the rest.

The smoke around his crotch is slightly problematic however, we seem to have moved on from a not-so-secret twig and berries to a flammable twig and berries. I'm beginning to rethink the mental safety of this cover. If he was a firefighter, the smoke might make sense but that very shiny, very photoshopped-in U.S. Marshal badge is irrefutable evidence of his profession, which means his crotch is emitting smoke without him being in the presence of actual flames and that is downright disturbing. Is there so much friction in his pants that at times he spontaneously combusts? Or maybe his one-eyed snake breathes fire? He's so talented! Perhaps if he covered his business in black satin like a certain nameless Santa, he wouldn't have this problem. Obviously his cotton/denim combination isn't doing him any favors much to my chagrin.

I still think I prefer a crotch that bursts into flames to a crotch that causes me to redecorate my computer screen with spit because I'm laughing uncontrollably though. What do you guys think?

Happy Friday Everyone!