Picking Out Cover Models

Also known as God Bless Reese Dante, because she puts up with this from me about four times a year…

So, he’s got a thin nose, a pointed chin, he’s in his thirties, lines by the eyes, hazel eyes, not blue, blue will do, can you make them bluish brown?

He’s got a long build, okay, muscles are nice, I like muscles, I guess this guy’s muscles are, yeah I got distracted my next guy will be built, I promise, but this guy needs long hair and is skinny and sort of like that guy from the show that you don’t know, let me find a picture…

Oooh…

That took longer than I thought, no it’s not stock photo, sorry, do you need one from the stock photo place, I hate that place, all those guys look too happy, what’s the deal with the teeth?

And here’s one–wait, he’s 17? Oh that’s embarrassing, how’s this one–18? Oh wow. No, I”m not a perv I swear, but they’re college age, and everybody under 30 looks like they’re in high school to me.

Oh God. I’m too old to pick out a cute guy. I”m gonna get myself arrested, how bout him?

No, he’s got a broad nose and a square jaw and brown hair–can we make him blond? With hazel eyes? And, yes. Lines by the eyes.

Cause he’s not eighteen.

Well the other guy’s in his twenties.

But neither of them are eighteen.

Okay, old guy, no muscles… well, not scrawny but… oh Lord. Yeah, no. I thought that guy would look good but not blond. Jesus, not a blond. I’m so sorry. I made you make that guy blond for six photos.

That was a crime against nature.

Look at more stock photos? Sure.

There’s this one, but nose.

This one, but chin.

This one, but eyes.

This one but… oh God no what am I thinking I couldn’t bone that even if I was thirty cause he gives me the creeps.

As, yes, I’m sure I’m doing to you. Mental picture erased, let’s forget that model exists.

Okay, this guy, he’s a blond, right? The eyes. Yeah. Hazel eyes. God, he’s cute. Not that my guy was supposed to be cute–they’re never cute on paper, but ugly guys don’t sell books.

That sounded venal.

Well, it’s a little venal.

I know–in real life, I go for guys that look just like that, but this is fantasy, I get it. We need to sell the fantasy.

This guy?

No, this guy?

With this guy?

Oh God no, those two people should never meet under any circumstances ever. If aliens ever put them under glass to mate they’d let the species die out before those two people spent more than a nanosecond  occupying the same space.

That guy? Blond?

Oh Jesus, what am I saying. I should have learned. NEVER FORCE BLOND!

That guy ‘s cute.

Yeah, he’s the original young guy.

I don’t know what to say–I know he’s everywhere but there’s a reason for that.

Whole world loves him.  Kittens want to purr in his arms, dogs want to lick his face, I want to lick his chest, let’s go with him.

Unless, of course, he looks like that with this other guy.

Oh my God–that’s like negative chemistry. You could put those two people in a cadmium rod and clean up nuclear spills.

Okay.

This guy– ugh. Never mind.

This guy, with glasses, a shorter jaw, a longer nose, caterpillar eyebrows, some gray in his beard and a hooded sweatshirt.

Oh my God–Mate?

Crap. That won’t work. This guy’s supposed to be thirty.

When did I forget what thirty looked like?

Oh. Yeah. Thirty didn’t look like that when I was thirty.

This guy? Yeah. Not thirty.

Oh Jesus. This guy. No, I don’t want him–he just looks like Putin. Please tell me nobody put Putin on a gay romance–I may gag.

Okay, this guy? I like this guy. YAY! We found a guy!

This guy?  Looks just like the other guy. That’ll be great. OH MY GOD IT’S THE SAME GUY. How did I do that? We can have the same guy twice, except one of them’s blond with long hair and one of them has glasses. People will think I’m writing twincest. Really weird twincest.

Okay, this guy. His hair needs to be red. The same red as my daughter’s hair–her lightest color needs to be his darkest color. And he needs to be looking at me three quarters, but I still need to see his ass. What do you mean they can’t do that–isn’t that one shot? That model? Angelina Jolie?

Okay, fine. YOu’re right. Tomb Raider isn’t reality.

Okay.

What about this guy?  Yeah.

You’re right.

Gross.

I give up.

Yes I do.

No, I do.

Deck chairs on the beach with a Christmas tree.

It’ll be great. Nobody will buy it. They’ll think it’s haunted Christmas.

But won’t have to look at another stock photography model with too darned many teeth.

Or, God save us all, Putin.