This week I finally got around to reading that nanny-spy-sea captain Christian romance that has been sitting on the floor under my desk for 6 months. What did I learn? A bad cover can totally kill you. The back copy seemed interesting, but every time I looked at the cover I would put the book down. Why? The girl of the cover had a whiny pout on her face that just made you want to rush away before she started gushing on about her impending toenail surgery and the lumpiness of her mattress at night. Due to a pea beneath the box-spring no doubt. But the book was actually pretty good. Very dramatic. Went on about the heroes bulging chest muscles and manly scent and how happiness skipped across the heroines jewel-like eyes. But those parts were actually quite funny and I enjoyed the book greatly. The lesson. Don’t put a pouty girl on the cover of any books, ever. Why would a reader leap at the chance to spend prescious reading time with such a person when there are plenty of pouty individuals in reality escape? Why why why?