I just can't be deterred today and I'll tell you why. I've done another little trip to the popular fiction section of my local everything-plus-the-kitchen-sink-at-a-discount store, and boy did I come across some gems. How about this one?
It's the title that really drew me to this one (babies in bondage? Ewwwww), but the belt buckle and the cuff links that keep me wanting more. You know he's a millionaire 'cause he's got BLING. If you can only have one millionaire per month, choose the one with the key to his hotel room nonchalantly draped over his hand. There's class.
C'mon, we all know this is Firehouse 69 with additional pedophilic action. The halo over his head and the loose pants say it all, really.
Please please please tell me these two are not twins. 'Cause that's just NASTY. Maybe the "Times Two" refers to the swans in the background? Mmmmmm, them's good eatin'. I'm glad to know this is an American Romance, because the idea of romance between, I don't know, Scandinavians or Botswanas just holds no interest to me. Patriotism, you know. I don't want to read about romance between commie pinko bastards. Only romance from the good ole U S of A will do for this patriot!
Ahhh, the best for last. Something about this just, I don't know, CREEPS ME OUT!!! As we all know, women only exist as a vessel for a man's seed. They don't even need a head. And what's with the "Sorority sisters friends for life" bit? Non sequitur much?
UPDATE: Thanks to faithful reader Bryan R. Terry, there is now a title. Unfortunately, it fenged the shui of the first paragraph, but these things happen. C'est la vie.