I know, I know. I'm in the middle of my Things-I-Learned-Self-Publishing List. And I will indeed finish that. Consider this a commercial break.
A friend advised me to avoid featuring a woman's neck on my latest cover, if only because everyone's doing it. Consider the following:
There are more, but you get the idea. It must be a similar thing to how we all name our children the same thing at the same time. I must know at least ten Christina/Christine/Kristine/Kristinas in my immediate circle. Run into the nursery at church and shout "Isabella" or "Emily" and all the girls will look up. Except for the ones named Lily and Ava. Try and count the men you know born in the 1980s names Josh or Justin. The human race just gets brainwaves.
When the no-neck friend saw my cover for Everliving, she was still worried about the neck:
"It's covered up," I said.
"Mmmm..." she responded, in that I'm-not-at-all-convinced tone.
It was bad enough that I gave my book a one-word title--SOOO trendy. Twilight, Starcrossed, Shiver, Bump, and my sixth-grader's fave new series, which opens with Fallen, continues in Torment, and is due out this summer with Passion. (Oddly enough, the opposite is also trendy: elaborate, non-intuitive, multi-word titles. Think of Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet, Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, and the gold medalist in the event, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.) But, hey--I've written a paranormal romance of sorts (i.e., super trendy), so I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.
On a parting note, Cass's legs from Mourning Becomes Cassandra crop up from time to time. Here's the latest for your viewing pleasure: