I love romances.  Reading them, writing them, looking at the hot covers.  I recall reading romances in the Fabio days – you know, when every hero was Fabio with different hair?  I loved the cartoon covers -not only because they were fun, but for the humorous story I knew they promised.  There are so many types of covers.  Sexy covers, sassy covers, dark covers, intense covers.  Ones featuring the couple, some with just the hero, a few with no characters at all.  The ones with babies, puppies, chocolate.  Every one of them sends an image.  A message about the book.  A snapshot, if you will, of the story itself. Covers are that first peek at a story. Like a magnet, they often draw us across the bookstore, or pull our mouse over the screen, toward a particular book.  Actually if I had to say I have one cover peeve, it’d be that it in some way resemble the story inside.  Other than that, I’m an equal opportunity cover lover. And then there are those cover cover-ups.  Made of paper, fabric or felt, they wrap around the book and hide the cover.  My friend has one.  Hers is cute, it says…