Borrowing shamelessly from Chris at Book-A-Rama.
Go to the advanced book search on Amazon, type your first name into the Title field, and post the most interesting/amusing cover that shows up.
There were a few tempting titles, like: When Charity Destroys Dignity (I’m sorry) and The Road to Hell: The Ravaging Effects of Foreign Aid and International Charity (Don’t blame me; I haven’t been international for years.)
But, dude, check it! I’m a romance novel.
Actually, I’m several, mostly (and somewhat predictably) inspirational romance. Bah. How boring. True, there is that Ellora’s Cave book, but … uh … we’re not going there. Not when there’s:
Him: Dang, my sleeve’s all bunched up and I can’t get my arm through. Why is my shirt tucked into my pants?
Her (note barely contained eye roll–that’s not passion, that’s disdain): Gawd, he can’t even dress himself. Sigh. Now where’s my circa 1860’s blow dryer and round hairbrush. My layers need some work.