If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if a Lisa Frank trapper keeper mated with a Halloween store window display, wonder no more—Throwing Shade by Deborah Wilde has entered the chat, rhinestoned stilettos first and shamefully unapologetic.
Let’s start with the focal point: a single purple high heel so aggressively saturated it could be seen from space, apparently dipped in glitter glue and radioactive Kool-Aid. This shoe doesn’t just “throw shade”—it launches it into another dimension. Adorned with a tiny skull charm (because that’s how you know it’s “paranormal”), it perches like a fashion victim caught mid-transformation in a sci-fi bootleg. You half expect it to morph into a Transformer.
Now let’s talk about the mist. Or is it smoke? Possibly spirit vapor? Whatever it is, it’s glowing, swirling, and doing absolutely nothing to justify its presence except scream, “Look! It’s magic!” This background isn’t atmospheric—it’s a mystical purple crime scene. There’s so much haze and digital glitter, you’d think the cover was designed using only the “Add Sparkle” and “Lens Flare” buttons in Photoshop.
And oh, the typography. If fonts could file for divorce, this cover would be the reason. “Throwing Shade” is styled in a calligraphic font so embellished, it could be worn to prom. It’s not whimsical—it’s wobbly. Then comes the subtitle: “A Humorous Paranormal Women’s Fiction.” It’s as if the designer remembered genre labeling at the last minute and slapped it on like a price tag at a discount shoe outlet. The author’s name—bold, spaced out, and featuring a weirdly decorative “O”—is trying to fight its way out of the glitter fog.
Let’s not forget the color palette: neon purple meets club lighting at a suburban vape lounge. It’s not just loud, it’s shouting through a megaphone wrapped in a feather boa.
Look, we get it. Humor, paranormal, sass. But this isn’t camp—it’s chaos. This cover looks like it fell into a vat of magical acid and clawed its way out with a hot glue gun. It’s not throwing shade. It’s throwing everything at the wall to see if anything sticks—sequins, smoke, sparkles, skulls—and none of it lands.
If there’s one spell this book cover successfully casts, it’s invisibility—because no serious reader will want to be seen holding it.