Love by the Pound

By Judy Bagshaw

Sandra Reese, full-figured and shy, soon learns lessons at college that she never anticipated. She finds that big can be beautiful, that life is to be boldly lived and enjoyed, and that love can take you by surprise. But when danger threatens Michael Santorelli, the man she adores, can she rise above her safe, sheltered past to take a desperate risk for love and life?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Skyla Dawn Cameron
• Release date: Jun 3, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386296492

Judy Bagshaw

Judy Bagshaw was a retired elementary school teacher and writer in Southern Ontario, Canada. As a plus-sized woman, she longed to see stories featuring full-figured central characters. Much of her work features such women leading rich and active lives, as she did. Romantic suspense was her genre of choice, but she also wrote humor, some non-fiction, and children's stories. Her currently available works include several novels, work in multiple anthologies, and a short story collection. She was also part of the writing team for the Ginn Reading Steps from Pearson Educational, a program widely used in elementary schools. Judy sadly passed away in 2015 but her legacy of size-positive romance novels lives on.

Book preview

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Love by the Pound

Judy Bagshaw

Books by Judy Bagshaw

At Long Last, Love

Big Fat Lies

Lady Blue

Love by the Pound

Kiss Me, Nate!

On Foot on a Banana Peel

Opposite Attraction

Second Chances: Jack & Gillian

Teacher’s Pet

Through All Eternity

....and more. See judybagshaw.com for other works.

Love by the Pound

Copyright © 2001 by Judy Bagshaw

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Cover Art © 2019 by Skyla Dawn Cameron

Second Edition June 2019

All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or her representative.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without permission from the author. Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.

Dedication

For all the big girls who dream and hope. Love yourself first.

A note from Judy’s literary heir...

Along with Teacher’s Pet, Lady Blue, and the collection At Long Last, Love, Love by the Pound was one of Judy’s first works, first published in 2001 by small epublisher, Wordbeams. Those early days of epublishing, a lot of businesses opened then closed, leaving books orphaned in their wake.

Judy’s early books went in and out of print a few times. Eventually, she decided to stop pursing a home for the works and left them out of print.

Upon her death in 2015, I inherited the copyright to all of her work and had to decide what to do with the out of print works—as well as what her wishes would be now. I know she debated a lot with whether she would rewrite and try to rerelease the books herself, or leave them out of print. Should I try to update and revise them the best I could while keeping her voice intact?

Ultimately, I know she had readers who always loved her books. And Judy’s legacy was one of positivity and happily-ever-afters for full-figured women. The world is better with her stories available.

At this point I don’t feel confident enough that I could revise or update and retain her voice in the works, so I am leaving the text of her earlier books as-is at this point. Nearly twenty years have passed since Love by the Pound was first released. Please keep the changes in technology and such in mind while reading.

Thank you for reading.

~Skyla Dawn Cameron

Chapter One

Sandra Reese stood uncomfortably in the massive line-up being jostled rudely from all sides by loud, rambunctious students. The shy, nervous eighteen-year-old had been standing in this endless line for over an hour waiting to get her dorm room assignment. Her lower back screamed and her feet were killing her in the brand new leather loafers. She kept wishing she had ignored her mother and worn her trusty Birkenstocks. She’d have had some comfort while standing in line. But, of course, her mother had insisted that first impressions were important and had sewn her a new navy blue, knee length, A-line dress for her first day.

But Mom, Sandra complained. I’ll look like a geek!

Hush, her mother scolded. You will not, either. There’s nothing wrong with looking respectable. The A-line disguises your hips and navy is a very slimming color. You look nice dear.

Nice. Right! Her mother could have swathed her in navy from head to toe and she still wouldn’t look slim. She was 5’10" and 280 pounds and that was that! And looking around her she did look like a geek. Everyone else was in the standard college uniform of jeans, plaid flannel shirts and beat-up sneakers. She felt like a nun playing hooky from the convent.

She giggled to herself over the image that created in her mind. Her giggle caused the big football type in front of her to turn around and look. Flustered, the embarrassed Sandra dropped her purse and the pile of books in her arms, knocking over her gargantuan suitcase, and drawing even more unwanted attention her way. Oh God, would this torture never end? As she knelt to pick up her things, a loud female voice said,

Here, let me help you. In gratitude, Sandra looked up to smile at a stranger’s kindness and was startled by the vision before her.

The girl was her age, about 5’6" with short black spiked hair. Her dark eyes twinkled with impish amusement. Sandra counted 3 pierced earrings in each ear and was astonished to see the girl sporting a nose ring. As the punkish girl handed Sandra her books, Sandra noticed the assortment of silver rings on her fingers and one on her thumb, as well as a wide silver bangle on the upper part of her left arm with a strange old world symbol engraved on it. Her tight ragged black jeans, combat boots, and black muscle shirt accentuated her tiny, wiry frame. Her outlandish ensemble was completed by the man’s plaid shirt tied around her waist.

There you go, the girl said, dropping the books in Sandra’s arms.

Thank you, Sandra said, completely mesmerised by this vision and feeling even frumpier. She watched as the slender girl boldly threaded her way through the crowd towards the dorm wings. Gosh, she wished she could move as gracefully as that girl. She always felt like such a clod. She’d never seen anyone quite like her before, except maybe downtown in the city and never up close like that. Who was she? Where was she from? What was her story?

There you go again, Sandra, she thought to herself. You always have to know everyone’s story. Always the people watcher, never a participant.

Hey, do you mind? The loud, rude voice behind her grabbed her attention and she saw that the line had moved forward while she’d been occupied.

Sorry, she said breathlessly, dragging her suitcase forward and not daring to look at the person she had offended. Things like that happened all the time. She’d get so interested in speculating about people she saw, that she’d wind up in an awkward situation and feel like a fool. What will it be like when I’m doing this for a living, she thought.

It was apparent that she’d have another wait until her turn. Sandra thought back to that last day’s preparation at home. Her cousin, Victoria, had come to stay the last week before school. She was starting at the same college as Sandra and her parents were off on a business trip to Japan. Desperate, Sandra had turned to her cousin for some support.

Tell her, Vic, she had pleaded. Tell her that I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.

I don’t think so, Victoria said much to Sandra’s chagrin. Your mom has a point. Navy is a slimming color and the cut of the dress is classic and flattering.

See, Mrs. Reese said, smiling at her niece, who smiled in return. You’re just being silly. You look fine.

Mom, Sandra said, not willing to give up, no one wears dresses at school. No one. Tell her Vic. She glared at her cousin, daring her to contradict.

It’s true, Aunt Sylvia. These days, everyone wears jeans and baggy shirts and combat boots. Sandra cast a see-I-told-you-so look in her mother’s direction. But Victoria continued. But that wouldn’t suit Sandra. Sandra needs to set her own style. That’s what all the glamorous women do. They don’t follow trends. They start them. I mean, look at what you want for a career. A private detective. That’s certainly unusual.

Was it paranoia, or did Sandra sense ridicule in her cousin’s voice?

Honestly, said her mother with a derisive snort. A detective. It would be far more sensible for you to study to be a nurse or a teacher, Sandra. How on earth do you ever expect to make a living...

Sandra tuned out the same old lecture. Her parents would never understand. Sandra had a fierce curiosity about other people’s motives. She loved to solve puzzles. She was forever watching people in crowds, assessing their body language, speculating about their lives. It was a career choice her parents simply couldn’t fathom. They saw it as being in the same category as a little boy’s dream to be a cowboy.

...There! Her mother sat back and surveyed her handiwork. I think that’s it. You look very nice, dear.

It suits you, Sandy, Victoria said.

Sandra knew that she’d never win the argument. Not with two of them against her. And where did Vicky get all this glamour woman stuff? Did she honestly expect Sandra to swallow that she was a trendsetter? Now Victoria might be able to get away with that. She was tall, willowy and blonde, the perfect cover girl type. She had big baby-blue eyes and long fluttery lashes and she just seemed to know how to wrap the world around her little finger.

Sandra really didn’t like her cousin all that much. She always felt that Victoria was laughing at her. Granted, Victoria never did anything overt, but there were little digs now and again about Sandra’s height or her weight or her personality, or other similar slights. Sandra sometimes wondered if she was jealous of her oh-so-perfect cousin, or maybe she was just feeling insecure. But whatever, she wasn’t entirely happy that Victoria would be on campus with her to hog the limelight.

At last, after what seemed an interminable wait, Sandra reached the front of the line.

Sandra Reese, she informed the frazzled woman on the other side of the desk.

Reese...Reese...Randell...Rawlins...Reese! Here we are, the woman said. You’re in a double with Danielle Santorelli. That’s Room G3-oh--

A double! Sandra interrupted. No, I asked for a single. I specifically requested a single.

You a first year student? the woman asked, nonplussed.

Yes.

Then you’re in a double, the woman said with finality. All first years are in a double. And she handed Sandra her stamped papers. That’s G3-oh-7.

But-- Sandra began, unwilling to give up.

You better get moving, honey, the woman drawled. You’re holding up the line.

Yes ma’am, Sandra said, crestfallen. Sorry.

Hugging her books and picking up her heavy, over-sized suitcase, Sandra headed slowly down the hallway to the dorms. She was very upset. An extremely shy, self-conscious girl, she’d never had to share a room before, ever! She couldn’t imagine having to room with a perfect stranger. It was unthinkable. But what was she going to do. She couldn’t go home. Her mother and father had dropped her off hours ago and were probably home by now. Even if she called them, they’d never let her leave now. She could just hear them.

Dear, you must learn to try new experiences, her mother would say. It’s good for you to broaden your horizons. I shared a room when I went to college. Yeah, in the dark ages!

Your mother’s right, Kitten, her dad would say in agreement, for he always seemed to agree with his wife. You shouldn’t be so shy.

How could she tell her father that life had made her shy? Being teased at