Monday, March 6, 2017

•٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠• Review For The Vulfan's True Mate (Starcrossed Dating Agency #1) By Georgette St. Clair •٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠•

The Vulfan's True Mate 

(Starcrossed Dating Agency #1)


181 pages

Published November 19th 2016 


Talia Fisher likes to complain to her friends that her growly,
 sexy boss Lukan was a real beast – turns out, she had no
 idea how right she was. She finds out the truth one night 
when she storms into his office to confront him…and finds 
herself transported to another planet. A planet full of sexy 
aliens who actually appreciate Talia’s curves, and are 
practically climbing over each other to claim her – 
but Lukan’s got other ideas.

Now that Talia’s here, he’s going to stake his claim on the 
full-figured beauty who’s been haunting his dreams. 
Unfortunately, that means that Talia must leave her friends 
and family behind forever – and there’s no way on God’s 
green earth, or any other planet, that Talia’s agreeing to that.
 And Talia’s new RBF (robot best friend) has glitches that 
may accidentally start a war between rival packs. Add in 
brewing cyborg invasion and a jealous rival who will stop 
at nothing to win Lukan over, and Talia is facing a challenge
 that is out of this world. 

Oh My Freaking God! That was one hell of a book. I absolutely 
adore books by Georgette, but this book was out of this world. 
No literally it was. This is her first Sifi romance and I must say she
 nailed it. It is well thought out. Extremely well written and honest
 to god funny as hell. Not to mention sexy fun if you know what I mean.

This book is about Talia and Luken. Luken is from another planet.
 His race is dying out due to a virus and war. The only planet with
 suitable mates is earth, but there's a problem. Earthlings cannot 
know about them so they are working with a dating agency. And 
it's owner who is something else and defiantly no fan of Talia. 
Talia is a curvy gal and a spitfire to boot. She takes no crap from
 anyone not even her sexy as sin boss. But he’d never do that only
 Alexandra is the problem. Talia has worked with Luken for a year
 and for that time she has been so attacked to him. So much so it 
is painful when she makes a mistake she ends up on his home 
planet and is in a daze she has all these hot guys vying for her 
attention, that is till Luken shows up, And sticks his foot in it.
 Now he has to find a way to make her his and keep her on his planet.

Now before I ruin this for you I will leave off here. I hope 
you enjoy this book as much as I did. If you do like this 
book, please consider leaving a review. The Authors really like 
it when you do; they value your opinions too.

“He’s impossible to please,” Talia groaned to Rosamund at a client meet-and-greet party at the Anders Tower Penthouse, two days later. There was music pumping through the speakers in the background, but not loud enough to drown out the conversation, and the air was fogged with hairspray and perfume. “Every task that he gives me, I get done before deadline, and he can barely grunt a thank you. He’s always having me deliver things to his office, and he asks for me specifically, but he hardly even looks at me. This morning I gave him the latest batch of clients, and he just growled. I mean literally growled, like a wolf. Seriously, he’s a real beast.” “Maybe he’s a dragon. He’s big enough to be one.” Rosamund giggled. “Does he smell like sulfur?” Rosamund was a dragon freak. She had dragon sculptures and pictures on her desk, and tonight she was wearing green dragon earrings. Talia snorted. “Do dragons smell like sulfur?” “Pretty sure.” Rosamund took a bite of cheesecake. Rosamund, like Talia, was a healthy, full-figured girl who liked to eat. Talia had overheard Alexandra telling their accountant that the reason she’d hired “a bunch of fatties” (her phrasing) to work at the agency was so that none of her clients would end up running off with the help. Talia raised an eyebrow. “And you know this how? Given that they aren’t real?” “I read it in a book.” “Nerd.” Talia grabbed Rosamund’s plate and stabbed her fork into the cheesecake.  She took a bite and let out a low moan of satisfaction.  Sweet, mildly tart, perfect.  Ahh, heaven on her tongue. Rosamund slapped at her with mock outrage. “Bitch.” “Maybe, but I’m the bitch that’s got your cheesecake.” Rosamund made a grab for the plate, but Talia held it out of her reach. “Get your own cheesecake!” Rosamund said indignantly. Talia flashed a wicked grin. “I could. But then I’d have to walk through the forest of swizzle-sticks all the way over to the dessert bar.” ‘Swizzle-sticks’ was their code name for the female clientele. These parties were a mixed bag. Part fun, part drudgery. Talia was expected to mingle with the guests and help start conversations and introduce people to each other. She normally loved to mix and mingle. She was a natural born chatterbox; her mother claimed she’d been born talking. Unfortunately, most of the women there were basically carbon copies of Alexandra – models or former models, thin, hungry, and unfriendly. Their only assets were their stunning good looks. And the male clientele were wealthy, frequently older businessmen who were rude and expected their every whim to be catered to instantly, or they’d pout like big babies. On the bright side, because Talia didn’t look like they thought a woman should look, they ignored her completely, which was nice. And even better, there was a huge buffet there, which was completely ignored by the all the skinny female clients, Dessert bar, sushi bar, tables and tables of appetizers. Talia had spent the last of her paycheck on her family’s electric bill and medication for her father, and she’d skipped lunch today, so now she was diving into the buffet like there was no tomorrow.  Talia had dragged Rosamund to the party supposedly to help her, but actually just so she’d have someone to talk to who knew words other than “I want” and “give me”. Rosamund looked over at the crowd of models. “I bet they’d like to eat dessert.” “Did I hear someone say cheesecake?” asked a mechanical voice, and Mar-ee glided up to them, holding a tray loaded with appetizers and little squares of cheesecake with toothpicks in them. Mar-ee was a totally cool retro-bot. She was one of the pieces of tech that Lukan’s other company was developing. She was a metallic-looking female bot with a flared metal French maid’s apron. She had metal curls artfully arranged in a 1950s hairdo, and a metal cap trimmed with metal lace. Lukan had several other retro-bots like her, but Mar-ee was the one who had the most personality, and Talia adored her. “Hello, Mar-ee, how are you today?” she asked the bot. “I am fine, thank you for asking,” Mar-ee said. “May I offer you a delicious salmon canapé?” “You may offer me two,” Talia said, and took them. “The models do not like my canapés,” Mar-ee said, sounding sad. Whoever had programmed Mar-ee had done a marvelous job with her.  Her metal skin moved like human skin.  She could frown, laugh, raise an eyebrow, and look upset or happy.  She could laugh and she could grumble.  Talia couldn’t imagine why Lukan’s other company hadn’t started producing these creations.   Rosamund squealed in delight. “You actually cooked these?”  Marie’s metal lips flexed in a smile. “Yes, I have many functions.” “They don’t know what they’re missing. You’ve done a marvelous job with them,” Talia assured her. “Thank you. You are my favorite human,” Mar-ee said, with that tinny tone to her voice. It was true – Mar-ee seemed to have a special affinity for Talia. “And you are my second favorite human,” she added to Rosamund. Rosamund laughed. “As long as you keep bringing me cheesecake, I will gladly accept second place.” Alexandra thought it was ridiculous that Talia treated Mar-ee like a person. She muttered “freak” every time she saw Talia talking to her. Right now, she was standing next to a wealthy client across the room, alternating between glaring at Talia and looking hungrily at Lukan. Talia couldn’t blame her for that, she guessed. She’d learned to live with the ache of longing that she felt for Lukan ever since she’d met him, but it wasn’t easy. She’d dreamed about him every single night for the past year. Every. Night. Technically, she’d already had more sex with Lukan than most married couples had in their first ten years of marriage. It was just that he always vanished when the alarm clock went off at six a.m

·٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠· Georgette St. Clair ·٠•● Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ●•٠·


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is at my blog. Georgette St. Clair is the New York Times,
  USA Today, Amazon and Barnes & Noble  bestselling 
author of paranormal romances. As a woman of a certain 
size - okay, 14 - she particularly likes to write stories  with 
a BBW/curvy theme to them, because she can relate to 
them a lot better than she can relate to romances 
featuring pencil-thin supermodels.

Georgette loves to hear from readers at mailto: 
Suggestions, comments,critiques, tips on how to housebreak
 middle-aged away, folks! Mwaaah! 

(air-kissing sound effect.)


Georgette is hard at work on her imaginary journey into the
 land of hot Alpha males, but will be frequently checking her 
email, sales reports, and supply of dark chocolate, while 
continuing to refer to herself in the third person. come friend 
me, I hope to hear from you soon!


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