grow•brary

where stories get fat

[growbrary]

The Growbrary Is Open

After years of working in romance publishing, I’m tired of lamenting a lack of stories I really want to read. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the standard tropes. Enemies to lovers? Second chance? Fake relationships? Great. Sign me up.

But I want heroes who are a little more rotund than the industry standard, plus partners who not only enjoy the size but are ready to encourage more growth. When you have to read as much romance as I do, it’s hard not to realize that most good books would be great if they just added a buffet date, a busted belt, and some belly bumping.

So I'm finally writing the kind of stories I want to read.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll start sharing some projects I’m working on. There’ll be a variety of longform multi-chapter pieces as well as shorter one-offs. What’ll they all have in common? Bulging bellies, strained buttons, and relationships that balloon as fast as my heroes’ waistlines.

Sit back, grab a snack, and let’s get to reading.

The Growbrary is officially open.

[growbrary]

A Long Night

A little fictional appetizer to get things going.

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You lean back on your bed, desperate to relieve some of the pressure on your overextended gut. There’s a faint hint of sugar on your lips even though you finished the donuts hours ago. You groan a little before you even realize you’re doing it.

How many calories have you crammed into your greedy mouth tonight? The donuts alone were good for a few hundred at least. Then the burgers and fries really packed it on. And the shakes. You insisted on those. There was more, right? You lost track sometime after the pizza.

Looking down, it’s easy to see where each and every calorie ended up. You gently rub your hands along your overinflated gut — if you can even still call it a gut. That word doesn’t do it justice. Round, swollen, and firm to the touch. You’ve turned it into a taut balloon. You’ve packed it so tight you can practically feel new stretchmarks forming as it stretches to accommodate the meals you’ve put it through. You slowly circle your hands against your impossible mass before resting them on your soft underbelly. Somehow, it jiggles against your touch. Maybe you’re looking for a little relief, or maybe you’re just trying to help it hold all that food in. You’ve heard of ‘being a handful’, but this is ridiculous. Ten hands couldn’t keep you covered.

You could have stopped at any time, and yet you kept wanting more. It was easy swallowing those first few bites. Even the first hundred were fine. But you couldn’t control yourself, and you’re paying for it now. You’re stuffed so full you can’t even take a deep breath without feeling like you’re about to explode. Arching your back doesn’t help, but you do it anyway, looking for more space that your stomach doesn’t have.

Just as you start to relax again, from the doorway, you hear the words you knew were coming: “Who’s ready for dessert?” It’s going to be a long night.