The Jack*ss In Class (The Cocky Kingmans, #5)

by Amy Award

I definitely forgot all about that tiny-winged donkey and a girl who wouldn’t look up from her book.

“You’re...a lot.”

Same dude

I can see how you might find yourself competing against farm animals for dates.”

My Tempest was in a league of her own.

The low-cut sweater that shows off the girls at their best is essential for optimal donkey care.”

Holy patron saint of women losing their hearts to sexy, sincere football players.

My bookish introverted heart really wants to be in bed by nine.”

Need help. Media storm at KAT house. Tempest exposed as best-selling author. Need extraction and damage control.

You don’t need to fight someone’s battles for them. Just make sure they don’t fight alone.

AbuelaNovela never just arrived anywhere. She made an entrance.

Something passed between them, a recognition, perhaps, of two people who had shouldered the weight of raising families through both joy and tragedy.

“The world is always going to try to tell you how much space you’re allowed to take up. Too loud, too quiet, too big, too much. But here’s the thing, the only person who gets to decide that is you.”

“When I was your age, women were told to be small, to be quiet, to be proper. When I chose to act, my own mother didn’t speak to me for two years.” She squeezed my fingers. “But here’s what I learned. The only shame is in denying who you truly are.”

Romance novels are⁠—” “Joy,” Abuela interrupted firmly. “They are joy and hope and the promise that everyone deserves love. Even girls who look like us, who take up space, who have curves and opinions and don’t fit into little boxes.”

“Representation matters and you have made so many people feel seen, even as you have hidden.”

“Love is not about someone rescuing you, mi amor. It’s about having someone who stands beside you when you rescue yourself.”

Go on with your bad self, my queen.

I wanted to fist pump, high-five, and cheer that she hadn’t let their first play take her down. She was going to be a tough defender and I was here for it.

Who the fuck was Imogen?

“Mamá.” Freddie’s demeanor went from fun and casual to decidedly dark. “You will call me Freddie, or if you cannot, you may call me Fidele. But do not dead name me again.”

“They’re romance,” Ophelia corrected. “With some ridiculously hot sex scenes, yes. But they’re also about women who look like us finding love and happiness. Do you know how rare that is? To see a heroine with brown skin, who isn’t a size two, blonde, and bubbly?”

“What’s wrong with women having fantasies? With seeing themselves as desirable? With imagining a world where they get to be the heroine? Seeing themselves being with partners who treat them with respect, kindness, and honestly, the way Papá treats you.”

“Commercial fiction has just as much cultural value as the classics. It reflects and shapes contemporary values, explores human relationships, and connects with readers on a meaningful level.”

“I think you should spread your wings,” he said simply. “See more of the world than just Colorado and Oaxaca. Experience different places, different people. It will only enrich your writing. Perhaps even visit the home of the bard himself.”

“When the world tries to make you feel small or wrong or not enough. That’s when you put on something gorgeous and dance anyway.”

I looked at my reflection and saw not the girl who took up too much space, who didn’t quite fit, but a woman who filled her space exactly as she was meant to.

its fine, i'll cry again.

Wanna go find a coat closet and let me see what you’ve got on under your dress?”

I’d embraced it, writing a speech about finding your authentic voice in a world that tries to silence it.

“I’m still nervous,” I admitted. “But I’m not afraid anymore.”

“When I was figuring out who I was,” Freddie continued, “when I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere, I read your books. All these characters who were different, who took up space, who found love anyway? It mattered, T. It helped.”

crap im crying again

“Because your writing is part of our story. And I want every chapter to be better than the last.”