lc-fg-cover-front-largeFat Girl by Leigh Carron

Genre: Romance (Contemporary, Steamy, Adult Content)

About Fat Girl: Years after fleeing small-town Springvale, Illinois, Deanna Chase has picked up the pieces of her shattered heart and built a new life for herself as a child advocacy lawyer. Her food addiction is quasi under control, her secrets are buried, and she has even made a tenuous peace with her plus-size body. Until…
Micah Peters—the very sexy and now famous man she fled— walks through her office door and sends Dee reeling. His demand that she help a young boy caught in a custody battle will reunite her with the past she left behind.
Torn between duty and self-preservation, Dee isn’t easy to convince. But when obligation wins, the former lovers get more than they bargained for—a searing passion that burns hotter than ever and startling revelations about what really happened the fateful night she left.
Will the truth set Dee free to love again? Or will past hurts and lingering insecurities destine her to walk away from her heart again, this time for good?
Fat Girl is the first book in this provocative two-part series about love and self-acceptance.

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Praise for Fat Girl
“An addictive, steamy read.” —Wynne Channing, best-selling author
“This was one HOT, emotional, and all-around EXCELLENT contemporary romance!” — Romance Novel Giveaways
“This is one of those books that sucks you in and keeps your interest until the very end.” —Jodie’s W.I.N.E. List
“Emotional and captivating!” — CrazyDaisyBookWhore
“This was a refreshing, real story that had me captivated from the first page. Dee and Mick were wonderful characters full of real flaws, real strengths and real passion.” — Beth S
“A Story with Hope, Heat, and Heart.” — KarinK
“A brilliantly written, steamy, sexy, thought-provokingly wonderful novel.” — Olivia P
“A MUST READ!!!” — Christine K

About Me: An American living in Canada. Chocolate snob. Recovering yo-yo dieter. Devoted mom and wife, blessed with a brilliantly witty daughter and unintentionally humorous husband. My wacky family feed my creativity and fuel my passion. Most nights, you will find me either curled up with a great book or, more often, sitting at my computer, tapping out the countless visions in my head.
To me, there is nothing better in a narrative than perfectly flawed but strong characters and intense romance that is sexy, deep, and sensual. Mm…I liken such stories to a box of Godiva. Decadent and delicious! You can’t stop at just one. In fact, I’m now hard at work on my next novel—A Naked Beauty, the conclusion to Fat Girl.

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Giveaway: An ecopy of Fat Girl at each stop, and four tour prizes: 1) A signed paperback copy of Fat Girl , bookmark, and $20 Visa gift card, 2) a $15 Amazon gift card, 3) $10 Body Shop gift card, and 4) $10 Starbucks gift card.

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My hand slides up her neck, testing the rapid beat of her pulse.
“Don’t,” Dee breathes, but the protest sounds as weak as my will to withstand her.
I lower my head and skim my lips along her bare shoulder. The fragrance of her soft, quivering skin seduces my senses.
“I’ve never gotten the smell of you out of my head…or the taste of you.”
Her breath hitches and I pull the sound deep into my mouth. I might regret my weakness later, but the silk of her lips, the sweet flavor I’ve never forgotten, spins my head, and trumps all rational thought or common sense.
I tug the band from her hair and grab two fistfuls of curls. And Dee’s right with me. No token resistance. No pretense. She gives back, just the way I need it. Hot and mindless. Going up on her toes, she winds her arms around my neck and molds her body to mine. Our tongues collide in a rush of longing. Tasting, tangling.
No woman has ever filled me so completely, to the exclusion of everything else. In that moment of frenzy, the past, my anger, and her transgressions are all white noise against the clamor of something louder and more powerful roaring in my blood.
I crush her back into the counter and muscle my thigh between her legs, leaving no doubt as to how intensely I want her. Releasing my grip from the twist of curls I cup her unfettered breasts through the thin material and squeeze their ripe fullness. The nipples harden to bullets beneath my palms, and when I whisk my thumbs across the peaks, Dee’s breathy moans drive me full throttle.

I drag my mouth down her neck and chest, sliding my tongue across the points, dampening her shirt until the little chocolate morsels are visible through the cotton. Alternating between the two, I suck the tips into my mouth, hard enough to entice her to the edge, then lick them softly so that the next sharp pull is all the more acute.
“Oh, God,” she moans and turns away to grip the counter as if it’s too much.
But I’m not nearly done. I haven’t even begun to do all the things to Dee that I fantasized about on those lonely nights when the hurt had receded into the shadows and all I was left with were the bittersweet memories of touching her, and tasting her, of driving inside her hot, wet body.
Her back to me, I slip my hand beneath the elastic waist of her pajama bottoms and splay my palm across her feminine belly. Dee feels even better than I remembered in my dreams. There’s not a single straight line, just soft, luscious curves. The body she never seemed comfortable with I still find sensually opulent.
Her skin scorches me as I slide my hand lower. Without any panties to hinder me, my fingertips encounter silky, damp curls and plump, slick lips. Pure luxury. I press snugly between the globes of her juicy ass and, whispering her name, thrust two fingers into the creamiest heat a man could ever imagine.
“Mick!” Dee cries out and rolls her hips in a tantalizing rhythm against me.
Desire snapping like a whip, I nose her hair aside, exposing her neck, and greedily suck the fragrant flesh into my mouth. I sink my fingers deeper and faster, while circling her swollen clit with my thumb. I’m drowning in the feel of her, in the wispy breaths of her pleasure.
My need raw, I grate against her ear, “Come for me, Dee. Come all over me.”