It might not be obvious, because it isn’t always on the cover, that there is plus-size representation in all of my series and novellas. Whether they start out plus-size or end up larger because of life events, it’s important to me to represent it as much as queer identity, because I’m both Queer and Fat, and these should be normalized.

In The Saint George Chronicles, Xavior deals with being plus-size when he gets pregnant (twice), and the weight gain shows. He’s not used to it, and at one point he does use magic to hide it so he can surprise his family. Gregor doesn’t mind in the least. This is from The Dragon’s Lance:

We kept kissing as I walked us toward the bed. Xavior reached to turn on the glamour, but I stopped him. “Leave it off. Hiding yourself to surprise our families is one thing, but you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide from me.”

Xavior smiled. “There’s no way I could have fucked you in my reading chair without it.” That was only a night ago. I’ll forever have fond memories of the reading chair in his den.

I shrugged. “Then we’ll figure out other ways.” I kissed him and moved my way down his body until I was level with his stomach. I kissed it too and listened to Xavior softly laugh.

There’s another from The Dragon’s Egg:

“What?” Xavior asked, curled up next to me. Our limbs tangled together, mindful of my left arm draped over his hip.

“I was thinking about being pregnant. Then wondered how that became one of our kinks.”

“Interesting. Though it makes sense. I’ve been pregnant half the time we’ve been a couple.”

“That’s true.”

“Lucky for me you like fat dragons,” Xavior chuckled.

“It’s not luck.” I turned my head to catch his gaze. “I think you’re perfect. No matter whether you have abs or a round belly, I’d love you because it’s you. All of it.” When I thought about tracing his stretch marks with my hand, I realized I didn’t have one on that side and sighed and pulled away. He grabbed my arm to stop me.

“Real, prosthetic, or a plain stump, you’re it for me. Just try to be less heroic and not lose any important parts, hmm?” he said.

In another chapter we meet Ms. Eilidh (pronounced A-Lee), the demi-goddess, for the first time in Dragon’s Lance. Gregor describes her like this:

She was a larger woman, dressed in comfortable slacks, heels, a half corset, and a flowing blouse in a combination of red and black that accented her tan skin. Her golden hair was pulled back into an elaborate braid, and her face had a glow to it that instantly set me at ease, but only if I avoided her dark brown eyes. Those, if I stared too hard, looked dangerous.

In Rare Temptations, Freddie gives us this beautiful description right before she goes down on her:

I growled softly as her ass hit the bed. I kissed my way down from her lips to her neck until I reached her voluptuous breasts. Her hands were reassuring as she caressed my back and shoulders while I made her moan from gentle sucks and kisses to her nipples and chest. I continued on, my hands caressing her sides and belly. She was a treasure of soft roundness that reminded me of a warm pillow. I licked at her navel. She giggled — that soft giggle that was almost girlish — as I moved lower.

Then in Prince’s Tide, we have Royce, a 300 lb fishing boat captain, and Troller describes him like this:

Late into the night, I saw the human. He was much larger than I realized as I watched him thunder up the odd path and onto the vessel, grunting as he went.

Thoughts of asking for the favor he owed me fled as the sight of him warmed my insides. I shook my head at my own silliness. A human wouldn’t care for the likes of me. I was only here to hide, and decide what I should do next to help my pod. But as I watched, my heart betrayed me, beating fast as I gazed at his facial hair, remembering how it felt. His well-muscled body reminded me of the protectors of our pods, large and imposing. Well suited for defending us. I reprimanded myself again, not knowing him. It was possible I rescued the human equivalent of a very cranky slick fur that made honking barks from shore before they dove into the water.

And how could I forget Mason? Here’s a fun description from Dr. Mason Never Takes A Holiday:

While Helen was smaller than me by a dress-size or two, we were comparable in the chest and thighs, reminiscent of Rubenesque models. She was a few centimeters taller, which had its advantages. Some people assumed we were sisters.

In The Web of Athena, Melody describes herself in a very terse fashion:

I was the one who stood out with my dark chestnut hair, hazel eyes, short stature with pear-shaped features, and the only one with no personal magic.

That’s until she meets Ms. Eilidh, then you get this description:

One of the most beautiful individuals I’d laid eyes on walked toward me. We were about the same height. She had light brown hair compared to my dark chestnut, and her skin looked as if it glowed like warm embers. Mine was just plain pink with a hint of yellow citrine. Her curves were nearly like mine—wide hips, plush belly, yet she had bigger breasts.

Perfect for resting my head on.

The second the thought crossed my mind, I could feel my face heat. The closer she came, the more embarrassed I felt. How could I think of her like that? She’s beautiful, absolutely, but I knew I shouldn’t ogle.

In my books, you can always find different kinds of representation. I’m proud of it, and I will continue to include it as long as I write fiction.