When you’ve read two or three of my stories you will begin to see a pattern. I write about curvy people, usually women but I have written about a huggable, curvy guy too. It probably won’t come as a surprise to find out I’ve got a fair few curves of my own and my early stories featured curvaceous heroines because I was often writing about myself. However there is more to it now than that.
I think the balance needs to be readdressed in the world of romance. There are so many skinny yet curvy in a lovely feminine way heroines in the world of romance and there needs to be more curvy, womanly characters in there too and not just as a figure of fun or the homely aunt or cook. So I write hot, curvy heroines who often have some insecurities about their looks.
Elizabeth from The Point has curves and insecurities aplenty. Here’s an insight into her mind:
“I’m sorry I had to wake you, dear Lady, but I do not want you to catch your death of cold.”
He laid the dress down over a single chair close to the fire and went to help her with the towel.
“Oh, gosh, I couldn’t possibly wear that, I mean, it’s antique, isn’t it? It’s like that beautiful dress in the portrait and I really don’t think I’d fit in it anyway.”
“It will fit you perfectly,” he replied, “and you could not wear any clothes of mine. This is all I have in the way of suitable clothing for a lady. Now we need to get you out of those wet things.” He knelt at her feet and started to untie the one trainer she still had on.
“I can undress myself,” she screeched.
“I know you can, dear woman, but you have a twisted ankle, you cannot do this without aid today. Do not worry for I will not force myself upon you, I will aid you and nothing more.”
“I know,” she sighed, “I know. I’m a little sensitive about anyone seeing me you know, unclothed. I am not particularly beautiful with my clothes on and with them off I look considerably worse.”
“I cannot believe that is true,” he said, “you are more than pretty as you are.”
He put the trainer to one side and delicately plucked off her sock, gently smoothing his hands down her soft skin. “Do you need help with your top?”
Before she could answer, he stood and reached down to her waist. She hovered with her hand just over her stomach for a moment then raised her arms. Hugh lifted the clinging, damp material up and over her head.
“What’s your name?” She blurted out, “I mean, you’re undressing me and I don’t even know who you are.”
“I am Hugh Jacobson,” he replied, then picked up the towel and draped it around her shoulders, his gaze concentrated on the luscious mounds of her breasts as he did so. They were like scoops of cold, tempting ice cream in their lacy shells.
“And I’m Elizabeth Chapman,” she said, “Doctor Elizabeth Chapman.”
I love writing about curves. I hope you enjoy reading about them!