because pecs aren’t just for romance covers anymore.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to see past a cover’s artwork, to see the potential of a story within its pages. Sometimes I can’t help but think, “No, I’m pretty sure this is what the story is about.”

And when I have these moments, sometimes I just can’t help myself.

But to be fair (and for those who are curious), here’s the synopsis for Anna Davies’ Wrecked. Although I badly want to rename it Pec’d. Is that so wrong? Wait, don’t answer that.


15 thoughts on “because pecs aren’t just for romance covers anymore.

  1. I can’t help thinking this is the male equivalent of all those crotch shots we’ve been analyzing recently. (Hold on, that sounds kind of weird, doesn’t it? Oh well, moving on . . .) It’s not that there’s anything wrong or offensive, per se, it’s just that your eye keeps returning to this anatomical feature like a homing pigeon. You don’t want to stare at her crotch, or his pecs, but it’s hard not to. Which is why we’ll all feel uncomfortable reading the book in public, too, isn’t it?

  2. Ignoring (*cough*) the pecs, I have a deep-seated dislike for “central guy with girl clutching his arm” images.

    Better than “girl clutching his leg”, which is found on a few movie posters, but still.

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