Excerpt from Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay

Hi there! If you’ve landed here, then you know that I’m working on a sequel to my debut, My Cosplay Escape, that I hope to publish before the end of 2022. Pre-order links will be up just as soon as they can be. So what can you expect in Book #2 of the Escape to Love series? Turnabout Is Fairy Cosplay spins another sweet, sassy yarn in the world of costumes, superhero fandom, and happily-ever-afters. Expect some closed-door, frenemies-to-lovers, rom-com goodness in contemporary San Diego. Please enjoy this excerpt from Turnabout Is Fair Cosplay.

}}}MADAM AUTHOR ESTIMATES SHE IS IS CURRENTLY ONE THIRD OF THE WAY THROUGH THE MESSY DRAFTING STAGE OF THIS PROJECT.{{{

My name is Beatrice Hero McKinny, and I am a cactus. Also a fraud. Against my better judgment and last shreds of sanity, I’m in love with Mike Benedick, who I cannot stand. Who I’ve sworn to the universe, my mother, and his own sorry face that I hate. Passionately. It’s true. I hate him, because of all his many sins, his worst is irredeemable. The man ruined fiction for me.

How could I have let this happen? What kind of woman would risk something so precious on a mortal man? A woman who was in fact a cactus, that’s who.

It’s easy to get a reputation of being difficult and prickly when you are the third of four kids, and your sisters and brother are all amazingly talented, outgoing, charming people and you look like a sullen troll next to them. Also easy to get this reputation when you’ve raced through undergrad and then law school, surviving on caffeine and sugar alone, just so you can make your parents proud. A family of legal minds. Someone has to take over the family business. Meanwhile it’s not going to be the smarter and more talented older sisters who actually enjoy the legal profession. And it’s not going to be your little brother who flat out refused to go to law school.

Pressure, lack of sleep and sugar crashes, could make any woman start to grow spines. Particularly when she spends half the night reading herself to sleep. To be fair, I did try both Chekhov and Tolstoy hoping they’d be a snooze fest. They weren’t. Pretty sure that was the week I manifested my true identity into the cute pincushion cactus that appeared on my bookshelf.

But I’m getting off topic. This story isn’t about me. It’s about Mike and explaining to the universe, maybe my mother, and eventually, in time, the man himself why I really, truly hate him… even if I love him.

 

 

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