#OBSESSED

By Frankie Love

Ever since I saw him on the big screen of Space Battles with his black mask and massive sword, I was smitten.
Okay, that’s not true.
I was hard-core crushing.
I was envisioning our future babies and could just imagine the headlines: Hottest Man in the Galaxy Falls For Average Jane.
At Fandom-Con, a convention for die-hards like me, I find it impossible to resist a masked stranger's offer to bring my virgin-girl fantasies to life.
So what if it's role-playing? This intriguing stranger looks just like the real thing. He has a sword of his own ... and looks like he knows how to use it.
But make-believe isn't enough for me, I want the real thing. And there's no way I can have that--or can I?

Dear Reader,

I know I’m not the only one with a celebrity crush!
#OBSESSED is my ridiculous fantasy brought to life. I was inspired by a certain movie star who makes me blush an embarrassing amount every time I see him on screen.
Who says grown-up women can’t have a little fun?
Just maybe don’t tell my husband, LOL.
#noshame #hardcorecrushing #nevertoomuch

xo, frankie

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frankie Love
• Release date: Dec 3, 2021

Frankie Love

Frankie Love writes filthy-sweet stories about bad boys and mountain men. As a thirty-something mom who is ridiculously in love with her own bearded hottie, she believes in love-at-first-sight and happily-ever-afters. She also believes in the power of a quickie. Get ready to fall in love … you deserve it! **Frankie also writes under the name Charlie Hart!

Book preview

Chapter One

Aubrey

It’s sexy, but not too sexy.

And that is super important. I want this outfit to look as close to the actual movie character Starla as possible, while still flattering my curves. The brown leather belt was a good call. As I cinch it around my waist, I bite my lip — I think I’ve nailed it.

My phone buzzes and I reach for it on my dresser. It’s Jenna, my best friend. I read the text, my heart falling as I do.

Don’t be mad... but I can’t come. Trevor refuses to watch Kallen and I can’t find anyone else.

My thumbs hover over my keypad. I don’t want to tell her how disappointed I am. Her baby-daddy, Trevor, is a total flake and I hate that for her, but the last thing she needs is a friend pointing out what she already knows.

Besides, she doesn’t really care about dressing up as a character from Space Battles--the most epic movie franchise of all time. She was doing this because she’s a good friend.

I text back: I’m sorry boo. There’s always next year. I guess I’ll have to fight off all the Neros on my own. ;)

I can practically hear her snorting. They’re gonna be all over you in that barely-there costume you made.

I don’t want all of them. I want THE ONE, I text back.

Give Braden Bentley a kiss for me.

I smirk. Yeah right. If I see him, I’ll be kissing him for myself.

You’re so horny for a fictional character, she types.

No, I’m horny for Nero, specifically, I type, clarifying my position. Who is played by the very real actor Braden Bentley, sex god and my all-around role-playing fantasy.

I hit send, regretting nothing. I am so into this movie star it’s not even funny, and Jenna knows it. When he pulled out his glowing sword in the final battle of the latest movie I spontaneously orgasmed. He is just that hot.

TMI AUBREY!! my BFF writes as if reading my mind.

#NoSuchThing, I type.

#OBSESSED is all she replies with, marking it the final word on the subject. And it’s the truest thing ever.

I’ve had a hardcore crush on Braden-slash-Nero since the moment I laid eyes on his dark and forbidding brown irises on a movie screen. I may be a twenty-four-year-old professional seamstress 363 days a year but then there are the other two days where I can dress up like his co-star and head to the closest Fandom-Con.

For the last six years, I’ve attended like a convert to the religion of Nero. I would get down on my knees and worship his glowing sword however he’d like.

Of course, he’s never attended the Fandom-Cons I make it to. And, even if he did, I’d be so busy wiping the drool from my mouth, that I wouldn’t be able to formulate the words to the sentence he deserves, aka, LET ME BE YOUR SEX TOY FOREVERRRR.

That would be too much, too intense--but absolutely true.

When I get to the city center it’s packed. I swear, there are people at this convention dressed as every character in every comic, film, or television show ever created, milling about. It’s hard not to stare--some of these ensembles are insanely impressive.

I wish I weren’t alone as I stand in the check-in line at the hotel across the street from the convention center. So, I text Jenna to pass the time. She tells me to put my phone away and be social, which I do. Though it’s hard; I’m not exactly oozing with confidence.

But then the convention-goers behind me compliment me on my Starla outfit, and I lift my chin, thanking the couple, and try to muster up the courage to talk to them.

I like your costumes, too. I mean, who doesn’t like Jon Snow and the Mother of Dragons?

Thanks, the woman says, laughing. I’ve been on a diet for three months, so I could zip up this dress.

Well, you look freaking awesome. Did you make the dragon yourself? I ask her, pointing to the little creature propped on her shoulder.

I did, she says, and then introduces