Jul 15 2008
My Eighties clinch cover, let me show you it
This was my delivery room book.
Everything an Eighties book cover should be and more.
Way more.
Her blue eye shadow. Her stripe of rouge. Her feathered hair. Her poofy ruffled dress. Her heaving bosoms.
The half-nekkid dude who, seriously, looking at him right now, kinda puts me in mind of Jet Li.
The “Catch me, I’m passing out” “Never fear, my love, that’s just the chloroform kicking in” pose.
The clashing colors (lavender and tangerine—there’s a bridesmaid’s dress from hell waiting to happen). The PURPLE FOIL embossed title.
The fine print at the top: “Her heart was innocent, but her body cried out for his touch!”
And the back copy is no doubt cringe-inducing pr0n of the worst sort to the sort of people who cringe:
BRAZEN INNOCENCE
Wide-eyed Caitlin McGlory [yeah, I know, isn't it great!] had no illusions about Quinn Jones. From their first meeting, she knew he’d be a fearsome enemy, a powerful ally, and a magnificent lover. With his jet-black hair and storm-grey eyes, he seemed dashing, devilish, and utterly desirable. Perhaps it was foolish—even dangerous—to flirt with such a man, but Caitlin couldn’t resist. She wanted to see his eyes grow dark with passion, feel his arms pull her close to the heat of his lean, hard body…
WORLDLY DESIRE
Cynical Quinn had no doubts about Caitlin. The instant he saw her, he wanted her in his bed. With her glorious auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes, she was bold, beautiful, and completely bewitching. Perhaps it was unwise—even reckless—to toy with such an innocent temptress, but Quinn couldn’t stay away. He wanted to whisk Caitlin off to his isolated Canadian castle and treat her silken flesh to long nights of endless loving. He would worship every luscious curve, every hidden treasure, until she begged for more of his tantalizing
TENDER TORMENT
Any clue whatsoever what the plot might be, based on that? *pfft* We don’t need no stinkin’ plot on the cover! We gots a prettiful picture!
Inside: I love you. I hate you. You’re acting like a spoiled child. And you’re being a bully. Train me so I can bag a rich, titled husband. Screw that, I’m not letting another man have you. My game, my rules, prettyboy. Wh-wh-what do you mean, he got tired of my games and left me for good? But I loooooooove him! Silly chit, I could never leave you.
That is the spirit of Zebra circa 1985 right there, ladies and gentlemen, and in spite of it all (or is it because of it?), it was motherhumpin’ awesome when I was 11 and remains one of my enduring faves.
July 15th, 2008 at 8:42 pm
*holds up lighter*
July 15th, 2008 at 9:21 pm
Keep the fire away from my preshuuuuus.
July 16th, 2008 at 3:13 am
I love. LOVE. Someday, when I own my romance novel bookstore, there will be a special section devoted to half-naked women and their glorious bosoms as the roots of our wonderful genre.
July 17th, 2008 at 1:48 pm
How cool would it be to have your favorites blown up to movie poster size and hang them on the walls?
July 18th, 2008 at 5:30 pm
Kerry: “Keep the fire away from my preshuuuuus.”
Gwen: Not like that! As in *holds up lighter and waves it in the air* … nevermind. *slinks into shadows*