The Fattest Cookbook in the World (Well, Not Really)

By JM Ross

Judy is beside herself with grief and decides to join her friend Tracy for a summer vacation up north. Then, she decides to write a cookbook. But not just an ordinary cookbook. She wants to write about eating fattening foods and getting fat. As she hooks up and mounts Tracy's old boyfriend, the problems also begin to mount. Meanwhile, Judy has already started eating and writing and the fun begins.
This story makes intimacy so explicit and so much fun.
This story has a little of everything from sex to silly comedy to tragedy and everything in between.
You may also enjoy the video (shown below). You may wish to click to full screen and turn on the sound.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ross Publishing
• Release date: Jun 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370666188

JM Ross

I love it when my protagonist finds her body contending with an intimate partner or a force that will change her forever. What is she thinking as she looses control of her sexual desires or her body or both? Did she want this to happen? Has it gone too far? Does she like it? How will it end? Will it end? The line between fantasy and reality is sometimes so very, very thin and I adore stepping into fantasy and staying there as long as I can. Love JM PS... If you'd like to see what's coming, click on favorites and Smashwords will keep you updated.

Book preview

Chapter 1

As I walked into Brew-Time, our favorite coffee shop, I could see Judy across the room. Her face was red. Her makeup was streaked. It was obvious we were facing some sort of crisis... Again.

Fearful of saying the wrong thing, I smiled as I sat and waited. She wasn't making eye contact. She sniffled a little and continued to stare at the wall. I ordered my coffee and continued to wait.

He dumped me, Judy finally blurted out.

What?

Ah, huh. Tony says he wants to be free this summer and he wants to explore new things in college next year. Meet new people.

And, she continued as her voice began to crack, Date new people."

And after everything I've done... her voice drifted off and she began to quietly sob.

She began to dig through her purse for another tissue, but couldn't find one and used her napkin. After a large blow, we sat in silence as she worked to compose herself.

Then Judy began to speak again, All through high school... All last year... We did everything together and now... Why? I just don't understand it. He wouldn't let me eat. He wanted me to stay skinny and so... I starved, her voice began to raise like a Valley girl, You know? He wanted to go to State (college) and so, I followed him. Despite acing my acceptance to Valparaiso. And now... And now...

She began to sob again.

He's transferring to Purdue. And... And... After all I've done... I... I just don't understand, she continued between sniffles.

I wanted to tell her that the guy was a bum... No strike that... A PIG! Yes, a real... P... I... G...

I'd seen it for years.

But at this moment, there wasn't a thing I could say that might help. So, I placed my hand over hers and gave a gentle squeeze. I sat in silence as another tear wound it's way down Judy's cheek. Then she took my napkin and had another blow.

I swear. My Judy is the most crying person I know. And when she blows her nose, it's similar to one of those cartoon characters on TV. It's like a foghorn or something.

But, my dearest friend has one of those photogenic super-model faces.

You know?

It's so perfect that cameras just love her. Well, almost. When she's upset like now, her large brown eyes and her high cheekbones, the entire shape of her face, can give her a silly bimbo-clown kinda look. And when she's been crying and her face turns red, I swear I could put one of those big red noses on her and she'd look so damn silly. Sometimes when she's upset, it's all I can do to keep myself from laughing.

But backing away from that, I've seen conversations stop when she enters a room. Her smile can light up a camera the way only a New York model can do. And she has that long legged graceful figure of a New York model and because she's so thin, that starved model look. I don't think she knows how truly spectacular she is.

Yet, there's innocence to her, a vulnerability that people like Tony-the-bum can always take advantage of.

And make no mistake, Judy is my best friend and I love her like a sister.

As far as Tony, he was an overbearing snob. I never liked him. I tried to be friendly for Judy's sake. But twice, he rewarded me by hitting up on me. I never told Judy. Maybe I should have. I guess the writing was on the wall.

So Mister 'Bad-Rubbish,' I can honestly say, 'Good-Riddance.'

I guess, I can join you at your cabin this summer, she tried to say as she began to snivel again, That is, if you still want me.

Once more, the faucets opened up as she desperately tried to find another napkin with no success. Finally, I rescued a napkin from an adjoining table and again, was rewarded by a fog horn from the most beautiful woman I'd probably ever know.

I swear, her sinuses could save a passing ship from floundering on the rocks.

So, it was decided. We were going north for the summer.

My parents have a small cabin in the north end of the State. But, they were planning a camping trip across the country, Niagara Falls, and the Grand Canyon and all that kinda stuff which meant the cabin would sit vacant.

Our plans were made.

But I could never have expected how events would change.

~~~~

Chapter 2

I think I want to be a writer this summer, Judy announced as we loaded my car.

Huh? You what? I asked.

As we pulled out of her driveway, I said, Judy, you're not a scatter brained bimbo. I've seen you do it before, but don't try to play the dumb role with me. I know about your writing in high school and the honor role. I know about your A's in college composition. Sweetheart, you can write well, in fact very well. But that doesn't make you a writer. Let's just party this summer and maybe... Maybe, we can get lucky and... Well... You know.

Brought the computer and my cameras, she said ignoring me, I'm thinking I could write a book. We've got four months. Bet, I could do a pretty good rough-in in that time, she said with a serious nod.

I just shook my head and turned onto the main boulevard in town.

Well, what if I did a cookbook? she asked, They're easy.

There's a million of them already out there and you're not a cook, I answered.

Well, cooking is always a learn-as-you-go thing... I can learn.

Darling. Believe me. You're not a cook.

I can learn.

Ya. And don't forget the time you burned water.

Well... That doesn't count. And besides, I simply forgot to watch the pot.

Ya. Ya. Well, the pot's still sitting in the garage. I can't believe you melted the entire bottom off.

Well, your mother forgave me.

Somewhat, I answered, But you didn't hear the lecture I got. Now, I'm supposed to let you near her pots, again?

In silence, we continued to thread our way through town.

Is this some sort of backlash from Tony-the-Bum? I finally asked.

Oh, no, Judy answered defensively and shook her head."

Slowly, we inched our way through the morning traffic.

Then, she said, Oh! I think, I gotta pee.

Sweetheart, we haven't even left town yet.

I know... I know... But, I gotta.

Hmmm.

I pulled into McDonalds.

As she got out of the car, she turned and asked, You hungry? Maybe a quarter-pounder or something?

I looked at her but didn't answer.

Well, I just thought, Judy started, Don't have Tony-the-Bum monitoring everything I eat and...

Seeing my expression, she stopped talking and ran into the toilet. When she came out, she was smiling.

I think I want to do video episodes, she said as she got in the car, to go along with the chapters in my cookbook. I've got twenty weeks. That's twenty episodes. And... I'll buy my own pots. Pretty neat, huh?

That's a lot of work, I said, There goes the whole summer and I was really hoping for a summer fling. You know? Maybe, find some good-looking guy. Summer picnics and late night swims. Maybe, no clothes. And then, we'd lie on the beach under a blanket and then...

I could feel my face flush as I thought about making love on a hot summer night.

And then, I continued, When we were all hot and sweaty, we could go back in the water to cool off and charge our batteries. Maybe hook up, again... This time, in the water.

Judy turned to face me as we stopped at the final traffic light before leaving town. Her expression changed and she placed her hand on my arm.

I'm sorry, she said, I'm not thinking very clearly. I think... I think going with you may be a poor choice.

Could you spare the time to take me home, she rattled on, I feel like I gotta do something useful this summer. Maybe, you're right. Maybe it is a backlash. Maybe, I won't be fit company this time. I love you. No hard feelings?

The light changed and I pulled over and turned to me best friend. Her eyes were turning red again. I could see the tears getting ready to bust loose. I knew I couldn't do that to her. Yet oddly as I thought about her idea, it began to feel like a new adventure. Maybe it wasn't so crazy after all.

What if it fails? I asked.

She shrugged.

Can we still chase guys? I asked.

She shrugged and smiled.

And that was that. I started the car up again.

You can be my producer, she said, You can have credits as producer, or maybe director or cinematographer or something.

Huh? I said as I looked at her.

But, I could see she was back to calculating.

And what are you, then? I asked.

Writer, she answered, I'll call it 'The Fattest Cookbook in the World.' It'll be about foods that make people fat. Everybody has a diet book. But, no one has a getting-fat cookbook. Do you think I should eat my own cooking?

I shrugged.

Maybe, I should teach people how to get fat or make someone else fat or... Not everyone wants to diet. I think... I think, maybe there's a market out there for an eating book, she said as she nodded to herself.

As we pulled onto the Interstate, I could see her lips moving. Then she'd nod and then her lips would start moving again.

Finally she said, YouTube.

I glanced over to her.

"We'll make a video every week