Scandalous Rescue sounds like the title of a dramatic, high-stakes thriller involving secret agents, stolen art, or at the very least a wildly inappropriate church scandal. Instead, what we get is a cover that looks like a Pinterest mood board got trapped in Microsoft Publisher.

Let’s talk about the central image—a moody, expressive painting of a sunset, bursting with emotion and brushwork. Honestly, not bad. If your grandma gave you this as a gift, you’d thank her, hang it in the hallway, and feel oddly peaceful every time you passed it. But should it be the centerpiece of a book cover? Only if someone puts in the design effort to make it work.

Unfortunately, no one did.

The painting is just plopped in the middle of a soft mauve gradient like it’s the framed artwork in a dentist’s waiting room. There’s zero integration, no bleed, no border styling—just a square image floating awkwardly in purgatory. And surrounding it? Vast fields of “background gradient from the free version of PowerPoint.” It’s like they picked the first swatch in the color menu and called it a vibe.

And now: the typography. Oh no.

Scandalous Rescue” is written in a script font that would feel more at home on a coffee mug that says “but first, grace.” The white cursive is hard to read over a multicolored, heavily textured background, so naturally, no one adjusted the contrast. It’s as if the title is desperately trying to hide in the clouds, whispering, “don’t look at me—I wasn’t ready.”

The word “Rescue” tries to dramatize the moment with a bigger flair and more chaos in the kerning, which somehow only makes it look like it got drunk on its own sense of purpose. It’s giving soap opera, not salvation.

Beneath it, we have the subtitle:

God’s Plan for Your Effortless Transformation

This line is calmly sitting there in a generic, small sans serif font like it’s afraid to get involved in the mess above. It reads like a self-help article header that wandered into the wrong layout.

Then, way down at the bottom, in what may be Times New Roman (bold?), the author’s name floats in design isolation—completely disconnected from the central composition like it’s being punished for not picking a more exciting font. It’s not centered in a meaningful way—it’s just vaguely there, like a lower-third graphic in a budget YouTube video.


In the end, Scandalous Rescue is a book that wants to inspire spiritual transformation, but the cover looks like it was assembled during the “effortless” part and left in draft mode. It’s a sunset of confusion, a font fiasco, and a layout that screams, “We’ll fix it later”—except no one ever did.