I almost got canceled over a book cover I didn’t create and fought against. But strangely enough, that disaster became part of a much bigger conversation about who gets represented in historical romance.
My first book was traditionally published. Books two through sixteen—independently published.
And the reason for going Indie after landing an agent was simple: at the time, there was this deeply toxic idea in publishing that stories centered on Black women in history—especially in the Regency and Georgian eras—didn’t have an audience.
Publishers didn’t understand the history and how diverse it is. And worse, they underestimated readers. They didn’t think you were interested.
So my agent and I parted ways, and I decided to prove there was a market for these books.
And y’all showed up.
Especially those of you who’ve been here since the beginning. You built this career with me. You bought the books, reviewed the books, recommended the books, argued for these heroines and these histories before the industry ever wanted to them to exist.
Eventually, traditional publishers circled back. They wanted proposals, manuscripts, meetings. And I ultimately signed with Entangled Publishing in 2017.
The Bittersweet Bride was my return to traditional publishing after years away.
Now, if you think authors have control over their covers, let me lovingly disillusion you.
Unless you’re a massive bestseller or have enough marketplace leverage to force approvals, you often don’t have much say at all. And at that point—In traditional publishing’s eyes, I was basically starting over. I had independent success, but not traditional “credibility.”
So the cover came in.
And you guys…it was digital blackface.
The art department had apparently searched the internet trying to find a Black woman in Regency clothing and decided the solution was to take a White model and darken her skin in Photoshop.
That was the cover for my seventeenth book.
I told them, people could tell and that she looked ashy. Everyone knows Black women use lotion. That is my humor in a difficult situation. But despite my objections, that was the direction they chose.
Then the internet detectives got involved. Folks on what is now X found the original image of the model and placed it beside the published cover. The outrage exploded.
People were furious—and rightfully so. But a lot of folks also assumed I had approved it. Some came directly for me. And because my name was on that book, I stood there and took it.
But I didn’t make that cover. I protested it. I lost the fight. And in traditional publishing, sometimes that happens—you lose the fight.
Now to the publisher’s credit, once they realized how serious the backlash was, things changed. Suddenly I was included in cover discussions. Eventually they started working with the graphic artists who had designed many of my indie covers.
The one benefit was the larger conversation became:
Why is there such a lack of diverse historical stock photography?
Why were publishers struggling to find Black models in period dress? Why weren’t there archives, databases, and photo shoots representing different skin tones, body types, cultures, and histories?
People pushed hard for change.
And like many things in publishing and media… some progress happened, a lot did not.
A few companies stepped up. A few photographers expanded their collections. But a lot of the industry stayed status quo because the demand for diverse historical imagery was still considered “niche.”
Fast forward to today.
I’m scrolling through Instagram and I get a comment from the actual model whose photos were used for the cover of A Deal at Dawn.
And y’all—I screamed for joy.
This is book number thirty. Thirty.
And this time, there’s a real Black woman on the cover portraying Katherine Wilcox, the eldest Wilcox sister, Lady Hampton. She’s elegant, beautiful, luminous—everything Katherine should be.
And for me, it felt like a full-circle moment.
My reentry into traditional publishing came with a cover disaster and now, years later, I have a cover miracle. My publisher Kensington Publishing Corp. found authentic imagery featuring a real Black model for my historical romance cover.
That matters.
Recently, I went on Threads and asked other authors how they’re navigating this issue now. Some shared resources for diverse stock photography. Some said they’re still struggling. Others have moved toward illustrated covers—what some folks dismissively call “cartoon covers.”
But honestly? I love illustrated covers.
Illustration allows artists to create a vision that includes everyone. You aren’t limited by the stock that exists. When I’ve had illustrated covers—let’s just say the difference in sales and wide appeal is apparent. It’s hard to accept that people look at pretty cover with a Black Regency Heroine and say it’s not for them.
But things are better. Cover artists may still have to build composites from multiple photos—one face, another body, different fabrics, accessories, backgrounds to create magic. Photoshop isn’t the problem. It’s another answer to the stock shortage.
Disparities still exist—and in this climate gaps may not be filled—so I’m grateful for every small movement forward.
So this week, I’m highlighting dedicated inclusive stock platforms include:
• Nappy — a free platform focused on beautiful imagery of Black and Brown people.
• POC Stock — a diversity-focused media platform centering BIPOC creators and imagery.
• TONL — curated culturally diverse photography built around authentic everyday representation.
• CreateHER Stock — lifestyle and business imagery featuring Black and Brown women.
• The Gender Spectrum Collection — a free collection created with VICE focused on trans and nonbinary representation.
• Disabled And Here — disability-led photography featuring disabled BIPOC individuals.
• Iwaria — authentic stock photography centered on continental Africa.
You can peruse mainstream sites they have more inclusion than they did in 2017.
• Stocksy
• Getty Images Project #ShowUs
• Unsplash
• Pexels
• Alamy
Period Images has some people of color in Regency costumes.
And my new heroes, Morgan Miles Photography
Are things perfect? No.
But things are better. Times have changed slightly.
Why?
Readers expect us here.
We belong here.
Respect and authenticity matters.
And somewhere between a disastrous digitally altered cover and a real Black model proudly messaging me about portraying one of my heroines… something shifted.
In times like these, I think we have to hold onto moments of progress, even as we continue to work.
If slow progress makes you mad, raise a sword and consider purchasing Fire Sword and Sea, my latest release.
Or if you are in need of laughs and inclusivity, preorder or review at NetGalley, or request at your local library, A Deal at Dawn. Step into a cliffhanger, where the Duke of Torrance is dying to finally be a father to his daughter but he must deal her with mother, the woman who humbled him and broke his heart.
Get these books from Eagle Eye Books. They still have a few signed copies of Fire Sword and Sea.
You can also try one of my partners in the fight, bookstores large and small, who are in the trenches with me.
You can find my notes on Substack or on my website, VanessaRiley.com, under the podcast link in the About tab.
Hey. Let’s keep rising and creating together. That’s the truth, I need you. Like, share, subscribe, and stay connected to Write of Passage.
Thank you for being here.
I want you to come again. This is Vanessa Riley.
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