How a Historical Romance Cover Should be Created: A Distance Too Grand Cover Reveal

Very few of us pick up a book without first looking at the cover. Indeed, covers can draw you to a book you wouldn’t have considered otherwise. I have been blessed with some lovely covers over the years. (We won’t speak of the unlovely covers—they tend to get jealous.) But I have never, in working with six different publishers, been treated to a more amazing process than that for the cover of my October 2019 release from Revell, A Distance Too Grand.

Grand is set on the North Rim of the Grand Canyon in 1871 and features a photographer heroine who wrangles her way onto an Army survey team only to discover the man leading the team is the one she thought she had left behind. As is often the case with publishers, I was asked what I thought would make a good cover and provided details on what my heroine and hero looked like, what they wear in the book, and the setting. I expected that to be that. What has generally happened in the past with other publishers is that I would get a nearly finished product at some point and beg to have any inconsistencies fixed. Sometimes timing demanded that those inconsistencies remained to publication. It is what it is.

Not this time.

I first received an e-mail from the Art Director introducing herself and explaining the process. A short while later I received another e-mail from this wonderful person who I intend to hug if I ever meet her in person. She sent a picture of an antique camera.

“Will this do for Meg?” she asked. “Answer quickly, if you can. We want to buy it, and the auction ends today.”

“Yes, yes,” I enthused. “Perfect.”

They bought an antique camera.

Friends, this doesn’t happen. If a publisher wants a suitable looking camera for a cover, someone will find some sort of clipart that sorta, kinda resembles a camera from the 1800s and force-fit it into the composition. Not this time.

The next e-mail provided pictures of a model they hoped to use for Meg. She too was perfect. I was thrilled.

The next e-mail apologized that they could not find a navy riding habit that exactly matched the picture I had sent. Would this dress do instead? I found myself looking at an antique dress from the time period, with a narrow skirt and a bustle. They were going to rent an authentic outfit from the 1870s. Sadly, Meg could not have worn it on horseback on the survey. I made some suggestions about fudging—using a modern riding habit jacket and painting on the right buttons, using a modern A-line skirt.

“Thanks,” she said. “We’ll keep looking.”

The next e-mail offered two cream-colored riding habits of perfect dimensions, also museum pieces that would be borrowed for the photo shoot.

The actual photo shoot.

I agreed the one the Art Director liked was—yes, you guessed it—perfect and waited breathlessly.

And here is the result.

To say I am delighted is the understatement of the year. This is one of the most beautiful covers I’ve ever had, and the most historically accurate. I feel blessed.

I hope you’ll look for A Distance Too Grand in October. If you just can’t wait, it is available for preorder in print now (I expect e-book to come) from Amazon. 

Isn’t it Grand?