Believe it or not, this cover is so vomit-tastic that Graeme actually refused to post it on his blog. Fortunately, I have a strong stomach (and plenty of sickbags) so decided to take the risk.
Can't blame Graeme though. Just staring at this cover makes my stomach churn. I can practically feel my eyeballs melting. I wouldn't be surprised if the publisher receives a flood of compensation claims from enraged readers over loss of vision, after their eyeballs rebelled and imploded from being forced to gaze upon its sheer crapness.
I'll be honest - I find it hard to take urban fantasy seriously anyway, but it's even harder when the genre's novels have covers like this.
Whatever you do, don't laugh at the woman on the cover - she's Death's daughter. No, seriously. Aside from the title, you can tell by the secksy skull pendant she's wearing and by her laughably bad surname: Reaper-Jones (you at the back, I said no laughing!)
What the hell that cute dog in the ridiculous collar is doing is anyone's guess. For a laugh, I was actually going to post the blurb, but it's even worse than the cover.
Crap-o-meter rating: 9.5/10
Peadar O Guilin's THE CALL available now
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