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Family goof-off and all-around playboy Dante has been tasked with finding the missing branches of the family tree. It’s a big tree, but luckily he’s a trained investigator. What he finds instead is Geena. Only she doesn’t understand how important she is to him and she’s slipped through his fingers. Now he wants to drop all his responsibilities and track her down.
Geena’s traveling companions are the trifecta of feminine beauty. They are thin, rich, and stylish. Everything she is not. She’s shocked when the hot guy starts hitting on her. What she doesn’t know yet is that Dante isn’t just a guy. And to him, she’s not just another in a long string of women in his loose past.
Dante has seen the mate glow and he knows what it means. He needs to convince Geena that this time he’s serious. At the same time, he needs to keep his new family members in check before they blow the family lore wide open and expose their secret.
Musing from the Bread Cafe.
I’m not a fan.
And I am trying really hard to remember when it’s my place to speak up, join in with the pitchforks and torches. Most of the time I don’t have a dog in the fight, and the fight isn’t one that needs my rallying cry. I’m talking about all the “drama” that likes to stir shit up.
Sometimes I don’t want to provide even negative publicity to an incident, so I take myself, do my action, and walk away from the social media posts.
But a lot lately has been showing up and squatting in my path. And while I can take my toys and walk around it, sometimes that’s not gonna work out.
An industry cover model went on a rant fat shaming the world at large, and his clientele. When he said (paraphrasing here), “it’s all just lame ass excuses don’t tell me why you’re fat shut up,” I took him off my covers. I unfriended and unfollowed. Yes, I know he already has my money, so I’m just “hurting” my wallet by recovering. No, I’m saying my characters who have body dysmorphic issues, or weight issues deserve more respect from a picture that represents them.
I didn’t say much (at the time), didn’t announce I was recovering my books, and recreating promo materials, I just did it. Several other cover models spewed similar vitriol, and I hunted their profiles down and made note that those faces would never be on my books.
A few weeks go by and a reader sends a message to an author that they couldn’t meet her at an event because she (the author) had gotten so fat. The reader then proceeded to give this author dieting advice. My blood boiled. How f&&**ing dare that reader shame her for not looking a specific way. So, of course, I had to look up who this author was, and send a message of support. It didn’t matter to me what this author looked like.
I was shocked when I saw what the author looked like. From the post, I had formed a certain look in my head and I expected to see someone my size. She was slightly thinner than average. Read that again: a person with a slightly smaller than average sized body was fat shamed.
I did post a message of solidarity for the author, because …
so many reasons, where do I even begin?
Rude much? Not any of that reader’s business? If that’s fat, I don’t even what to know what they would say about or to me.
And that’s the big one right there: If someone feels they can shame an average sized author for not appearing to meet some random personal fitness standards, what the hell is going to happen when I show up?
I’m fat. Big, large, plus sized. Have been most of my life.
And before anyone says by showing up, and living, and not hiding in a hole that I’m somehow promoting an unhealthy lifestyle, that’s some serious bullshit right there.
My health, my struggle, or my acceptance of my size is not out there as some excuse for consumption. I do not need to share my A1C numbers so that readers can decide if they want my books or not. My books are not about me. If they were they would be memoirs, and they aren’t. And if they were, all the heroines would be BBW redheads and all the heroes would have rocker-long black hair, they don’t.
Fat shaming, and all hate needs to go away. That shit is not cool. It is not the last acceptable prejudice that people can roll out, because it is not acceptable.
I’ve been stewing and thinking about whether I was going to post this or not, because it’s personal. How much am I willing to expose? How big of a dog do I have in this fight?
My dog is pretty big, and while I may not get online and rant and rave, I will be quietly in the back, slashing tires, and undermining the foundations in other ways.
Learning to be unapologetically one’s self is hard enough as it is. Shamers need to take a lesson from Thumper: If you can say anything nice, keep your trap shut!
Wolves of Wet Waterfalls is a sexy hot reverse harem novella series.
The three stories in the novella trilogy are Stealing Joy, Finding Home, and Ending Torment.
Available for presale!
AMAZON – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07P
KOBO – https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebo
NOOK – https://www.barnesandnoble.com
APPLE BOOKS – https://itunes.apple.com/us/bo
GOOGLE – https://play.google.com/store/
A lot of authors will send out ARCs- Advanced reader Copies, and give away prizes in the form of sending their ebook directly to a reader’s Kindle device.
If this isn’t something that you’ve done, it can be a bit of a confusing PIA, because there are multiple steps to make this happen smoothly.
I have had several people walk me through the process because I can never find a step-by-step how to do this. And because of that, I decided to put together this guide.
This process works for your Kindle device and if you use the Kindle app.
These settings are not on your device but in your Amazon online account.
The links are the same accessing Amazon from the phone (I accessed through a browser and not the app)
Step 1: get the email from where the ARC or prize will be sent from
Step 2: Log into your Amazon account
Step 3: From the drop-down menu under Accounts and Lists, select Your Content and Devices
Step 4: Select Preferences and then select Personal Document Settings
Step 5: Locate your device’s email
Share it with the person sending you the ACR
Step 6: Add their email to the approved list
Just below where your devices emails are listed is the Approved Personal Document E-mail List
Below that is the add email link
Once you have everything set up to receive documents, and they have sent you the ARC, you just need to send the ARC to your device
Step 1: Back under Your Content and Devices select Content
and in the drop-down menu Shows:XXXX select Documents
Step 2: Docs will list the documents, free books and ARCs that have been sent directly to your device.
Select the Doc you want sent to your device, click the Actions button, and select the link to Deliver to Device
Step 3: Check your device, mine has a display that shows ALL and DOWNLOADED. After the doc has been sent to your device it should appear under ALL ITEMS DOWNLOADED, if not ALL ITEMS should have a drop-down option, select DOCS, your ARCs should be right there ready to read.
The last step is to enjoy your ARC!
“Fallyn and Emilio’s story is one of a love that won’t be separated by the fact that she’s the daughter of a police chief and he’s the son of a mob boss! The story is packed full of emotions, love, sex, and yes, violence, with a twist in the end! It’s a must read!” – Alexis R. Craig, Author
Savage Princess by Cheri Marie
Models: Katy Mccain & Kyle English
Cover Designer: Tiffany Black with T.E. Black Designs
Editor: Courtney Lynn Rose
Formatter: Brenda Wright
>> B L U R B <<
Fallyn Monroe. She’s beautiful. Feisty. Daughter of the police chief, and completely off limits. When she looks at me, it’s like she sees me – the real me and not the crime family I come from. I know I shouldn’t, but I have to make her mine.
Emilio Manzini. Son of Eli Manzini, the Italian mob boss my father is determined to take down. I shouldn’t want him, but when Emilio turns those sexy brown eyes in my direction, there’s nothing I can do to stop myself. He’s protective, the all alpha male. I know I should walk away, but I can’t.
A forbidden love. A relationship doomed to fail. But, they say love conquers all, right?
>> F O L L O W C H E R I<<
FB Like Page: http://tinyurl.com/kkva3ut
FB Reader Group: http://tinyurl.com/ku5ntlv
Books + Main: https://bookandmainbites.com/CheriMarie
>> B U Y L I N K S <<
Chapter 5… In which Mary would rather travel without a proper companion in Marshal Hunt’s company than be in the same parlor with Pythagorus a moment longer.
Marshall Hunt took over the entire chamber. Mary couldn’t take her eyes from him. He not only physically filled the space, but his presence also sucked the oxygen out of the room. Mary found it difficult to breathe.
Charles and Pythagorus kept taunting him with stupid questions. They were all stupid questions.
Mary worried her hands together.
How could her grandfather have sent such a man to escort her back to San Francisco? Didn’t that old man understand just how inappropriate all of this was?
“Mr. Hunt,” she finally brought herself to ask the one question that she could not fathom.
“How exactly did my grandfather come to have you in his employment?”
He turned and leveled his gaze on her. She sucked in her breath as those blue eyes looked over her. Her entire body thrummed with the power he emitted. And she was to be in his company for a full week.
This was unconscionable, how dare her grandfather not hire a proper escort like a matronly widow?
“Miss, Mr. Dryer hired me while I stood in his parlor. Our fairs are paid for, and we have separate staterooms. My job is to make sure you get from place A to place B. You will be safe.”
“I think we must object to this,” Janey finally contributed something to Mary’s situation. Unfortunately, she wasn’t effectively helping Mary.
“I could go with. Another person to ensure of Miss Mary’s security.”
Mary cut a hard glare across the room at Pythagorus. Marshall Hunt made her nervous, but Pythagorus now turned her stomach. And to think that even before lunch this afternoon she was considering him as a potential suitor.
“That’s a brilliant idea. Charles, you go,” Janey said. “Mr. Hunt, your services won’t be required as my husband will escort my sister back to San Francisco.”
Charles coughed uncomfortably. “Janey dearest, I would have to rearrange my appointments.”
“Janey,” Mary said in a scolding tone.
None of this was appropriate: her grandfather contracting with a rough man such as this one that stood before her, Charles choking on his own breath trying to get out of traveling as a guardian, and Pythagorus twirling his mustaches in the corner like some melodrama villain.
“Mr. Hunt, would you object if I found a respectable traveling companion to accompany me on the journey? I doubt you will find my conversation to be passing of interest.”
The tall man nodded, and his eyes flashed an unreasonable blue. “Miss if that would serve your needs to ensure the safety of your person, by all means, secure yourself a traveling companion. But mind you, she needs to be responsible for her own actions. I am not some babysitter of the weaker sex. I am a transporter, and you are a package I have been paid quite well to ensure the safe delivery of.”
Mary grasped her hand on her throat in shock. The crassness of this man discussing payment in company such as this.
“Mary,” Mr. Peterson artfully slid his hand into her free one, and lifted it to his lips.
His heavily waxed mustache tickled the back of her hand, and she unexpectedly let out a giggle. She flushed, not in delight of his touch, but in shame that she displayed such a lack of control.
“Allow me to be the one to deliver you back to San Francisco, and safely to the bosom of your grandfather. Together we can experience this vast country.”
Her gut instinct was to snatch her hand away. Pythagorus was not interested in experiencing anything but what was under her skirts. There was no way she wanted that man anywhere near her while confined on a train.
Slowly, and with a coy smile, she removed her hand from his.
“While I do appreciate your offer, Mr. Peterson, I will decline. Just as it is inappropriate for a young lady of my status to travel unaccompanied with a complete stranger as my escort, I believe it would be beyond scandalous for my escort to be a friend such as yourself. You have business here to attend to. No, I will secure myself a proper lady’s companion, and trust that Mr. Hunt is only concerned with my well being, as a package he is to deliver.”
Pythagorus began huffing and making objecting sounds.
Marshall Hunt cleared his throat.
Mary felt trapped between a snake and a hard place.
“How soon do we leave?”
©2019 Lulu M. Sylvian
need to catch up? Read Chapter Four here!
Released one year ago today!
Julia Palatine is smart, sexy, and has a will to match that of ambitious alpha Roman Aventine. He wants her for his mate, but Julia has no time for entanglements with males of her kind, no matter how seductive.
Julia is on a mission to keep their existence a secret from the human scientific community. She reluctantly agrees to attend a conference with Roman, only because she is determined to better understand wolf shifter genetics. But Roman only has the business of seduction on his mind.
As a woman in business and a rare female alpha, Julia finds men are always trying to dominate her in the board room, and in the bedroom. Roman claims he follows her lead, but she isn’t so certain she can trust him, after all, their families were bitter rivals until recently. They make a great team, but their attraction could prove a costly distraction, putting their lives and fate of their species in jeopardy. Continue reading “1 year ago Driven was released”
Want to try out one of the Holiday Stripper short stories or novella?
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**A Hot, Sexy, Ridiculous, Holiday Novella
Beautiful, glamorous Nick does what he wants…and who he wants.
The unexpectedness of Nick hooks Katie from the first moment. He’s the Christmas present she most wants to unwrap. But Katie has been holding back and trying to do what makes everyone else happy.
With a twist…
and a thrust…
and some break away snaps.
12 sexy hot stories to warm up your cold winter nights.
I didn’t know how to express the feelings I experienced. Hell, they barely felt like feelings. They felt like exhaustion, commitment, obligation. It was slogging and difficult work.
Anything and everything I had done in my life for the past eight years I revisited with tweezers and magnifying glass scrutiny. How could I have changed the outcome? Why didn’t I have the outcome I thought I wanted. How could I go back and change everything?
I began having dreams where I could time travel and now-me would tell past me to make little changes.
I would wake up because I couldn’t breathe.
My apartment felt confining, constricting. I ran outside just to breathe more than once. I had waking nightmares of dropping Myrna. At those times I would look into the side crib, assure myself that everything was alright, and then stay up for hours just watching Myrna breathe. She was here, she was safe.
I hadn’t forgotten to feed her or change her diapers. I hadn’t left her someplace and then not been able to remember.
I started to look up my foibles so many times. Each time I either couldn’t complete filling out the search field, or I would not click on the links.
When I finally clicked on one of the links I fell down a rabbit hole of patient cure thyself bull. Blogs that looked like they had useful articles denied the existence of postpartum depression, others tried to sell me essential oils to get out of my funk. And too many of them assumed I had a partner who could help me with my burden of guilt.
©2019 Lulu M. Sylvian,currently untitled from the Phantom Stars Trilogy