Janet the Giant Lover: 50 Shades of Fairy Tales
About: For fans of 50 Shades of Grey and Desperate Housewives, here comes a
fun, flirty bdsm series that delivers sexy, mysterious doms and loads of
When Janet Loomis inherits her Aunt Macy’s
bookshop, she has no idea what’s really in store for her. A ghostly
visit from a giantess turns her plans of converting the place into a
tattoo studio upside down, and Janet finds herself scaling a massive
beanstalk, getting entwined with two hot giants, and helping stop a war.
Excerpt: I like my men big and brawny. Not all over-bulging
muscle and popping veins, but, as my Aunt Macy used to say, “Built like a
brick outhouse.” Okay, not the most romantic image, but you get the
And in my line of work as a tattooist, I deal with a lot
of hot, burly giants, but nothing could have prepared me for what
happened after Aunt Macy died and she willed me her little bookstore on
Aunt Macy told me, “Janet, when I kick the can,
you can do whatever you want with this place.” She’d repeat this on
most of my visits, while we had coffee and brownies like only Aunt
Macy’s could make them, sitting between dusty stacks of everything from
Moby Dick to Her Scottish Rogue. Aunt Macy loved bodice rippers, and she
actually wrote historical romance under a few pen names. Along with the
bookstore, it covered the bills and left a little over, but she wasn’t
rolling in wads of Jackie Collins’ type cash advances. Still, Aunt Macy
had been quite content with her life in her small cozy bookstore, with
apartment over top.
Now, as I locked my Jeep and walked to the
brick building, with its green and white striped awning, a wave of
sadness hit me in the chest. I sighed heavily, blew a strand of platinum
blonde hair from my eyes, and hitched my backpack over my tank top clad
I caught my reflection in the glass door as I unlocked
it. One pigtail was higher than the other and my hazel eyes looked
bloodshot and bleary. My face seemed paler than usual. I was tired from
the long drive up, and my faded jeans were sticking to me in the late
No sooner did I open the door and step into the
shadowy store than someone was behind me, grabbing my shoulders with
large, slender hands and whirling me around.
“You must go help them!” a tall, almost Amazonian, woman in a billowy, blue cloak whisper-rasped at me.
help who?” I scrambled back from her, trying to get in the door and
shut it before she could pull a knife or something on me.
shoved a large, booted foot in the narrowing space and grabbed at the
candy striped strap of my shirt. “The ancient one from the mountains is
coming. It will start a war if you don’t help them stop it!” Then she
shoved a tiny drawstring bag made of burlap in my hand. “Take these.
Plant them in the garden behind the store.”
And with that, she
was gone. Her rubenesque form seemed to float away under the amber glow
of the globe streetlamps. But her face remained in my mind. Old world,
with big dark eyes that reminded me of an owl, a slender nose, full
lips. She looked like a giantess who’d sprang to life from some book of
myth and legends.
I opened the tiny sack she’d placed in my palm,
finding three white beans inside. At least they looked like lima beans
to me. Figuring I had nothing to lose, and not believing fairy tales
could ever come true, I went to Macy’s little garden in the back and
planted, as my visitor had instructed.
Four hours later, just as I
was crawling into an older tank top and shorts with Spiderman on
them--AKA my pajamas--the ground started to rumble. I thought Vancouver
was finally getting that massive earthquake we West Coast Canucks
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