a publisher, in the beginning

[sergebroom]

Last week, my wife received a calendar from her publisher, with each month displaying the cover of a book from their early days. Who would have thought that, in the late 1940s and early 1950s. Harlequin published books like these?

Pardon My Body
(“A tough exposé of the Amerian Underworld.”)
I don’t know how much the underworld is exposed, but the gun-toting lady with the ripped red dress gets plenty of exposure.

The Manatee
(“Strange loves of a seaman”)
I guess he spent a bit too much time sailing on the Seven Seas.

Nine to Five
(“The private affairs of not-too-private secretaries…”)
Miss Hathaway! My god!

Love Me And Die!
(“Out of the darkness came the slow, sure hand of Death…”)
Meanwhile the cover shows the man’s hand slowly creeping along the lady’s thigh.

You’re Lonely When You’re Dead
Guys, let’s blow. This place is dead.

Virgin with Butterflies
(“Men cast a net for her…”)
I get mixed signals from that one. If men are casting a net for her, why does the cover show bodiless male heads fluttering around the lady with butterfly wings sticking out of their ears?

Of course this calendar will occupy the place of honor in my office next year.

Comments

[miltonthales.livejournal.com]

Harlequin published noir?

[serge-lj.livejournal.com]

Apparently, and stories about naughty ladies. Mind you those two genres sometimes cross over each other. (My favorite line from a noir movie's poster? "Her mouth was filled with broken promises" Yes, that sounds like a deadly dame who demands a dentist.)