Oh. My. God. I totally know this guy. I think I went out with him a few years ago. He was a Navy Seal and at first, I wouldn’t go out with him ’cause he was in the military and I told myself that I would never date a military man on principle (my pa was in the Navy). He would send me flowers at school, at work, at home… it was nuts! He also called me at least five times a day and just happen to show up wherever I went. After a while, he began to wore me down, so I agreed to go out with him (after all, he was a Navy Seal and the sociopath in me thought, “Oh cool, a trained killer!”). Everything was fine for the first couple of months… I mean, he was really sweet and thoughtful, and remembered to tape (there was no TiVo back then. Fuck off!) my favorite shows when he knew I would miss it because I’d be in class… I mean, he was awesome.

But then there was the berserker rage. Every time we went out and some guy ventured a glance at me, he would slam that poor fucker against the wall and scream, “WERE YOU LOOKING AT MY WOMAN, YOU LITTLE PISS ANT? I CAN TEAR OFF YOUR HEAD WITH MY BARE HANDS AND SPIT DOWN YOUR NECK!” in his face. It was scary. I couldn’t take the psycho anywhere. It was funny (and frightening) how pissed off he would get in a traffic jam and once, I thought for sure that he would yank off the steering wheel and beat someone over the head with it (hopefully, not me). Long story short, I dumped him and he called me all sorts of nasty names and threatened to kill himself if I didn’t return to him, but I told him I would tell his commanding officer if he didn’t leave me alone. Eventually, he went to Germany or something and I haven’t heard from him since.

Huh. I mean, this guy on the cover is totally NOT him, but I get a little crazy sometimes when I see a military uniform and think it’s him. This guy looks more like Wash! I hope UPN or the Sci-Fi channel brings back Firefly.

Anyway, I know I’m babbling, but I just told you that long ass story, so I don’t have to talk about the GODDAMN TWINS that soldier boy up there is holding in his arms! Oh, Harlequin, you MANIPULATIVE bastard! You show some sucker holding babies, but you relegate the “woman in his life” to a tiny ass picture frame? Wait a minute… did he come back home from the war with his wife already pregnant? How long was he gone? Is it the mailman’s baby? Harlequin, is that what you’re trying to tell us? YOU SLY DOG!

Many thanks to the Delectable Amber for the cover!

Amber and I were just talking about the Harlequin fascination with sheikhs back in the 90’s. Amber says, “The head dress is freaky. It’s like having sex with a guy in a halloween costume.” Word to your mutha! I totally agree! No offense to my Arab American readers (who I really doubt are sheikhs), but who would want to date one of these guys? Stereotypically speaking, they usually have a harem (literally!) of wives, treat their women as property (like a sub-human sex slave), and according to this cover, they seem to favor ugly, multi-colored shirts! Is it the money? Is it like dating the CEO of a large company or a Millionaire Cop? And where do these American (read: Caucasian) women find these sheikhs, anyway? It’s not like they’re hanging around in some downtown bar in Colorado. Was the sheikh-thing just a fad of the nineties? What’s next, Asian heroes? “The Samurai Who Loved Me” or something like that? Wait… that would be fucking awesome. BRING IT ON!

Oh, and my mom knew this gorgeous model from the Philippines who had like… the Sultan of Brunei (yeah, I know, that’s not the same as a sheikh) in love with her and he pursued her relentlessly, buying her all sorts of crazy shit like furs and diamonds and paid off her debts, and he would tell her all the time that she would be his one and only if she only married him. When she got to Brunei, she found out that she was like… his eighth wife, and he had a frickin’ harem! Sure, he fucked her every night for the first few months or so, but after a while, he would fuck the other wives, and after another couple of months, he brought home a ninth wife! HOW ROMANTIC!

Oh, look, another ugly, multi-colored thing! Is that a pashmina scarf? And is he wearing lime-green silk pajamas? Ewww! And they posed that white girl rather uncomfortably, didn’t they? My neck hurts just looking at her. Man, sheiks love their white girls!

Also, I’m almost 100% sure that these guys? Are not at all from the Middle East.

Thanks to the Magnificent Amber for these images!

There’s something that freaks me out of this cover and it’s not just the title. I’ve never felt emotion (other than ambivalence or ennui from the models) radiate from a cover before, but here there’s actually true emotion. That emotion, ladies and germs, is disgust. Just look at that world-weary, embittered woman, who is at least forty-five, sitting at the bar (?). She’s got wrinkles, a flabby neck, an orangey tan that signals she spends too much time at the tanning salon, and soccer-mom hair… and yet she can look at the man standing next to her with pure, unadulterated disgust. It’s like she’s thinking, “Huh… I’m supposed to pretend I’m in love with you? But you’re skinny and gawky and all together goofy-lookin’. Besides, you’ve got a stupid grin on your face like you’re watching some kid fry ants with a magnifying glass.” Or maybe she’s just thinking, “Oh, Lord, another goober. I can’t believe they expect me to pose with this tool. Oh, man… what I wouldn’t to for another shot of Botox.” Or maybe she’s just constipated. What the fuck do I know?

Image courtesy of the Lovely Amber

Just wanted to remind you how RIDICULOUSLY FUCKING HOT Scott Speedman is…

Man, this boy is so goddamn fine that he makes my teeth hurt. In fact, he’s so fine that I’d drink his bath water. No… he’s so fine that even after he finished a five-mile run and hadn’t taken a shower yet, I’d lick him from head to toe (then bathe him lovingly in a claw-footed tub). No… he’s so fine that if I were the chambermaid of the hotel room he stayed in, I would roll around in his sheets so that I smelled like him all day.

Oh, what? Like I’m the weirdo? Whatever!

::sigh::

Mermaids… fucking mermaids, dude. I thought “secret baby” plots, “one special night with my one true lurve” plots, “secret baby after one special night with my one true lurve who just happens to be a Navy Seal-Sheriff-Hardened-City- Detective-Cynical-CEO” plots are all that Harlequin is all about. Spank my ass and call me Susan, but I didn’t know that Harlequin authors ever wrote about frickin’ mermaids, for God’s sake! That’s fucking awesome. I almost want to go to Thriftbooks and buy both of these books. I would, too, if I had the money, but I just paid tuition and am afraid that I’m destitute until I sell some platelets again. This starving-student-writer thing is just not very profitable. I mean, it’s all noble and shit, but I’m so broke sometimes that I’m sure Tim cries inside every time he writes me a check to put into my bank account so that the checks I write don’t bounce (he considers himself a “patron of the arts”).

But enough about my sad ass life. What’s going on with these covers, people? I’m completely and totally amazed that the hair of the male model in the first cover is not at all messed up considering that he is supposed to be under water! That must be one hell of a gel that he used on it. Where does a mermaid go for a haircut underwater anyway? Is there a Fantastic Sam’s down there? And how do they have sex? I once read this really awesome P.C. Cast book where the heroine turns into a mermaid and her love interest was a merman and one thing leads to another, and the next thing you know, they’re getting busy on some rock like a couple of horny dolphins (there’s a slit where the boy’s peepee… you know what? Never mind. Read it yourself.). Anyway, I wonder where he’s taking her? I hope that wherever it is, there’s a furnace, so he can burn that awful dress!

As for the second mermaid cover… who is the mermaid? Are they both mermaids? At least on this one, the male model’s hair is “realistically” messed up. But it really looks more wind-blown, doesn’t it? And what’s with his girlfriend’s stupid dress? Why is she dressed like Vanna White? And since her dress is so damned white and she’s supposed to be underwater, why can’t I see her nipples (I blew this thing up, dude. No nipples.)? And with the way that he’s got his hand over her stomach, I bet this bitch is already pregnant. Damn mermaids… haven’t they heard of safe sex?

Covers courtesy of the Delicious Amber.