|Buy Sweet Cravings HERE|
I’m on The Romance Studio today with the Book-a-Day-Giveaway book! Enter HERE to win an ebook copy of Sweet Cravings, my foodie romance release from Decadent Publishing!
In the book, Violet Cunningham, who’s a size 16/18 not a size 4, gets quite the sugar high and seduces the handsome pastry chef who made the luscious cream puffs she’s eating! Of course, he’s not a size 4 either. They’re both “normal sized” people, and I think it’s important to include those types in romantic fiction, don’t you?
I myself am not a size four! Although I run, do yoga and hike, I’m still a size 16, just like many of my readers are. I pride myself on being in good shape, but I’m never going to be “skinny.” (I might order a skinny latte, but that’s another matter! Besides, I’d rather have the red wine!)
So, my heroine Violet has breasts, she has hips, she has thighs that could crush a walnut :) And like a lot of women, she’s kind of self-conscious about it. She probably isn’t going to wear a bikini any time soon…. And she’s still suffering from sort of a fussy-mother syndrome where the mother means well by telling her she’s fat, but she’s not actually helping! She’s making it worse for Violet to believe she can get a great guy. But in the end she does! Yay!
I didn’t write any chapters from Chef Max’s point of view, but if I had, readers would know he has insecurities, too. Do girls just flock to him for his powdered sugar coating? Do they just want to lick the frosting off his donuts and nothing more? When the dough’s done rising are they out of there? Hee hee.
Really though. We all are insecure about something. Our dress size. Our hair. Our bank account. Whatever it is. I say being a larger size is the least that matters. What matters is that we can come to believe in ourselves, just like Violet does. Here’s a sample showing her frustrations during a phone call with her mother:
“What are you saying? You have a date? With a man?”
The shock in mom’s voice takes me down another peg. As if I could sink much lower. “Yes, Mom, a man. A real, live one.”
She snorted on the other end of the line. “Well, who is he?”
“He’s a chef, a pastry chef.”
During the silent pause that followed I could almost see the no-wonder-my-daughter’s-so-fat gears turning in her head. “Mmm-hmmm. And you’re dating him?”
Well, technically, no. I mean, we had sex in a kitchen twice and then never left the apartment. Last night was more of an “in” date, if you could call it that. Oh hell. To be honest with myself, it was more of a booty call. I suppose that’s what I deserved after practically doing the same thing to him at the hotel. “Not really. I mean, not ‘dating’ dating.”
Mother sighed. “Look, Vi, whoever he is, just bring your little man along on Saturday, all right? We’ll expect you both at four.”
Oh dear. This hadn’t gone quite as planned. “But, Mom, he’s…he’s not really—”
“’Bye, dear.” Click.
I stared into the phone hoping it might electrocute me by accident and save me the embarrassment of begging the disappearing chef for a fake date. Sadly, it didn’t. Now I had to come up with an excuse for why Max couldn’t make it.
If you can relate at all, enter to win the book on The Romance Studio http://theromancestudio.com/Book a Day Giveaway and let me know how you like it!
Thanks for reading,
Eva Lefoy writes and reads all kinds of romance, and is a certified Trekkie. She’s also terribly addicted to chocolate, tea, and hiking. One of these days, she’ll figure out the meaning of life, quit her job, and go travel the galaxy. Until then, she’s writing down all her dirty thoughts for the sake of future explorers.
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Eva-Lefoy/e/B00CE0EY0G