Cultivate your curves - they may be dangerous but they won't be avoided. -Mae West
I've been a reader since I was a kid and discovered romance novels when I was in my twenties. Needless to say, that was quite some time ago. What I remember about those romances, other than how much I enjoyed them, was that each and every heroine was slender. The hero could usually span her waist with his hands. Who has a waist like that? Seriously? I never did. Not even when I was in third grade. So while I enjoyed the emotions and the love story, I was disappointed that none of the heroines looked like me.
On the rare occasions that a heroine was "chunky", she either lost weight to get her handsome prince or she shed her dumpy clothes and was miraculously thin. Can you say disappointment? I knew you could. That kind of a plotline was a real let down. I was dismayed that the author had not allowed her plus-size heroine find her happily ever after and frustrated that the publishing industry wouldn't or couldn't deviate from the cultural norms of the 1960s and 1970s that said you had to look like Twiggy and not Mama Cass. Now, I'm sure Twiggy is a very nice lady but I will never look like her.
So when I began to write seriously, I asked myself, "Where are the heroines who look like me?" All readers want to see themselves reflected in the heroine and I think this is especially true of romance readers. I know that's what I wanted. So I decided to write a heroine who had curves. Not little curves. But big ones. Dangerous ones. The kind that so many women in our society have. Plus-size curves. And since I've been published, every heroine I've written has been plus-sized. It may not say that explicitly anywhere. She may look thin in the cover art, but my heroines are big girls and that's what I see when I'm writing and I like my heroines that way.
The curve is more powerful than the sword. -Mae West
My initial intent was just to show that regardless of her size, a woman is valuable and deserves her happy ending and she shouldn't have to diet herself skinny to get it. Now, I'm not saying my heroines are all thrilled about being big. Some of them have a negative self-image and they struggle with their size. They may be okay with themselves most of the time, but when it's time to get naked with a hot guy insecurity rears its head. That's true of all women regardless of size, isn't it? We all seem to only see our faults. But the hero I write thinks my heroine is hot. He sees those flaws the heroine obsesses over as an asset. She has a big ass? Yum. Curves on her body? Give him more. He digs curves. He loves the woman inside the curves, but he thinks she's sexy even if she's unsure about her allure. And sometimes that enhances her confidence in herself and her beauty because when we see ourselves through the eyes of love, we're stronger for the change of view.
That's a theme that crops up in my new release, Leader of the Pack. Yohana is more handsome than beautiful. She's powerful physically but fears that males not only find her intimidating, but are turned off by her big breasts and curves. Per sees Yohana with different eyes. He sees sensuality and beauty and he wants her from the moment they meet. Eventually, he convinces her and the methods he uses are enjoyable for them both.
Leader of the Pack:
Surgeon Dr. Per Goldwolf needs a mate to make partner in a prestigious practice. Predator-Match.com—a matchmaking service for shapeshifters—not only finds him a mate, they match him with his True Mate. Yohana’s long legs and fair flesh make him lick his lips and her scent makes him rock-hard.
New packleader Yohana Whitewolf’s life goal is to follow in her sire’s pawprints and lead her pack. Leadership demands sacrifices. To calm her people, Yohana needs a mate. But finding an Alpha male who won’t take over is a tall order. Yohana doesn’t want the complication of a True Mate, but Per is a sexy, intelligent Alpha male and she wants to shred his clothes every time she touches him.
Everything should be perfect—except she’s a packleader, and the Whitewolf pack is nervous.
Release date: December 21, 2012
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An Excerpt From: LEADER OF THE PACK
Copyright © FRANCESCA HAWLEY, 2012
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Per looked up from his coffee to see Yohana striding confidently across the room. Two steps behind her was the young waiter, looking dazed and horny. What the fuck? Per had been on edge ever since she left the table, envisioning her in the bathroom stall with her legs spread and himself on his knees on the floor plowing into her. Now, here she was sashaying back to their table looking satisfied. He stood to hold out her chair. As Yohana stepped close to him, he was enveloped in the scent of her recent arousal…and orgasm. His bitch screwed someone else then walked back to the table as if nothing had happened. Fuck that! Per caught the worshipful gaze of the wet-behind-the-ears pup and growled.
The pup blinked and stammered, gulping in terror. “I’ll bring your check,” he squeaked.
“Like hell you will, you whelp. You just mounted my Mate. We’re going for a walk. Now.”
The boy yipped, flying off for the kitchen at a run. Per was after him in a shot, ready to kill.
He ignored Yohana’s cry of command, looking back once, rage filling his vision. “I’ll handle this.”
The boy weaved between tables before slamming headlong into someone exiting the kitchen with a tray full of pasta dinners. Per caught the boy before he hit the floor, lifting him up by the collar of his shirt. A firm female hand grasped his wrist, while her arm encircled his waist.
Yohana pressed against his back to whisper in his ear, “I masturbated in the bathroom. The pup was nowhere near me. Let him go…” She sighed as he turned to look into her eyes. “Please, Per.”
He took a deep breath and nodded. The scent of his Mate wasn’t on the boy, so he released the whelp, watching as the boy ran hell for leather through the kitchen doors. Per closed his eyes, mortified at his stupidity. He had never claimed a female this publicly in his entire life, not even when he was in Sweden before his sire threw him out of their pack.
Yohana eased away from him, turning to the man, who happened to be Stefano Blackwolf the restaurant manager and son of the owner, Roberto. “I’m sorry, Stef. This is my fault. I’ll pay for the meals. Please allow me to buy the diners whatever else they would like to apologize for their wait.”
Per shook his head. “No. My fault. I’ll pay for it.”
Yohana frowned at Per. “I will pay. It’s my responsibility.”
Per’s blue eyes blazed, then he paused. “We’ll split it. Fair?”
Yohana patted his arm. “Yes. That’s fair.”
Per blushed as Stefano lips twitched, fighting to control his amusement. Per looked into Yohana’s eyes then he started to chuckle, drawing giggles from her. She blushed, looking down at her toes. He reached over, lifting her chin with a fingertip barely brushing her lips with his.
“Dessert, Yohana? Would you like some cannoli?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Two, Stefano?” Per inquired of the manager.
Stef nodded, directing the busboys to clean up the mess while he went to inform the waiting diners of the delay with their meals. Per set his hand at the small of her back, escorting her to their table. He seated her and reseated himself.
“I’m sorry for setting this mess in motion. I didn’t consider you might imagine me having sex with Marcello. He’s a baby.” Yohana took his hand, meeting his eyes.
Per clasped her hand before lifting it to his lips to kiss. He froze, taking a deep breath. She’d washed her hand, but he knew it had been inside her…recently. Per looked into her startled gray eyes, breathing deeply so she’d know he smelled her sex. He opened his mouth engulfing her thumb, sucking and licking it. In spite of the soap, her taste lingered faintly on her skin bringing his body rigidly to attention.
Yohana gasped, color rising in her cheeks as she licked her lips. He could see her pebbled nipples tight against the silk of her dress. This was no frigid bitch and he was in big, big trouble because his mind rejoiced to discover it. Per wanted to mount her now. He wanted to grab her, throw her face down on the table, rip off her panties, and sink into her to make her his while everyone in the room watched…then cheered. What scared him the most was the expression evident in her eyes. She wanted the same damn thing!
Hi. I’m Francesca Hawley and I’m a fat chick. A woman with dangerous curves just like my heroines.
I first began to read romance when I was in my teens. I loved the genre, but the heroines were all thin. Their thighs didn’t rub together…had never rubbed together…and frankly I had trouble relating to these ladies. The stories were great—full of emotion and well told, but the heroines weren’t like me and that was a major disappointment. I kept wondering where were the fat heroines? I found some occasionally, but to have their Happily Ever After they usually had to lose weight and go from ugly duckling to swan.
Well, I wanted a fat heroine who loved herself—or at least learned to love herself—and a hot alpha hero who liked her jiggly bits just the way they were. Since I didn’t find many big girls to read about, I decided to write about them myself. After all, I loved to write anyway and had been writing almost as long as I’d been reading, so Francesca Hawley – author of Romance with Dangerous Curves was born.
In a Francesca Hawley romance, my readers will find authentic, sensual, fat heroines who love and are loved by their intense, passionate, and seductive Alpha heroes. I hope you enjoy their dangerous curves just as much as their hunky heroes do.
web site - http://www.francescahawley.com/
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