Calling all FANGIRLS! You definitely want to check this out.

The first release of 2025 is a short but steamy novella, the first in a five-novella series set in the same universe as Confessions of a Fangirl. Let’s do a little recap, shall we?

A few years ago, I published a rom com series titled Her Confessions. It centers on the romantic exploits of three friends who live in Brooklyn. Confessions of a Fangirl, Confessions of a Gamer Girl, and Confessions of a Glamour Girl. In the first book, Fangirl, we met Jen, who happens to fall into a romantic obsession with a villain from a popular movie franchise (Space Vendetta) and the actor who plays this morally gray character.

During her journey, she attends the Philadelphia Comic/Fandom Convention where the actor of her dreams will be signing autographs and taking photos with fans. Unfortunately, she can’t afford to splurge on the tickets, so she gazes at him longlingly from afar as he signs autographs.

Jen doesn’t attend this convention alone. Against the advice of her best friends, she meets up with a group of other fangirls she met on an online fandom forum where they share fan fiction, fan art, and all the juicy fandom gossip. None of these women have met in person before, so it’s a little chaotic and a whole lot of fun. We only catch glimpses of the six fangirls she meets up with in Philly, and I knew I wanted to explore their adventures at this fandom event in depth. That’s where I came up with the idea for the Fangirl Confessions.

I know I said six fangirls, but only five of them are single. The sixth one is happily married living in Iowa with her husband and two kids. Madre is based on a personal friend of mine, so she merely makes an appearance instead of getting her own romantic adventure. Sorry, loves.

But the rest of the fangirl crew–Vicky, Jessica, Beth, Ginger, and Ronnie–get their own stories in this series.

• Vicky – The Cosplayer
• Jessica – The Artist
• Beth – The Bodyguard
• Ginger – The Director
• Ronnie – The Author

The Cosplayer sets the stage, showing a passing glimpse into the attending fangirls’ personalities. The timelines overlap, since they all meet their love interest at the convention, but for some of them, the romance is instantaneous–while others, well, it stretches over a longer period of time.

Vicky’s romance with Jason is very much a quick burn with high heat. 💥 I won’t say insta-love but it most certainly is an insta-lust story. For every fangirl who has ever fantasized about hooking up with their favorite actor, this story is for you. 💖

Here’s a little list of tropes for The Cosplayer:

• Insta-lust
• Celebrity crush
• Fangirl down
• Cosplay
• One night stand
• Secret keeper
• Public confessions

If you’ve ever been the part of a fandom and you live for spice with a guaranteed HEA/HFN, this series is for you! Now…check out this teaser from Vicky and Jason’s story.

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Chapter One

“No way—Nathan Burke was born to play Commander Colton,” Ginger says, fixing the pass around her neck.

I wait with a small group by the convention center entrance.

“Absolutely not.” Jessica vehemently shakes her head. “That role should have gone to Vince Parker. He was fantastic in that film with Tom Cruise.”

“Space Vendetta is the biggest franchise next to Star Wars and Marvel. They would miss out on a huge opportunity by casting someone like Parker.” Ginger snaps her gum. “Burke is Commander Colton.”

Ignoring their debate, I lean against the wall and rifle through the emergency kit on my hip. There are always cosplayers at these conventions who have epic costume fails, and I learned long ago to pack the necessities to get them patched up and on their way. No one pays for my services. I enjoy doing it. Working in costume design has given me all kinds of insight into how to quickly fix wardrobe malfunctions.

“Vicky, you’re a Vendetta girl. Who do you think would be a better Commander Colton?” Ginger nudges me with her elbow. “Parker or Burke?”

I zip the bag closed, readjust it over my shoulder, and sigh. I hate these types of debates. They’re pointless, but it’s not like I don’t have an opinion. “Neither.”

Both Ginger and Jessica gape at me.

“You have to pick one,” Jessica demands, her blue eyes wide, her blonde ringlets bouncing.

Just then, the line starts moving. We slowly make our way toward the entrance, where security is checking bags and tickets before fans enter the convention center. I’ve been waiting for this con for months. This small group of women I befriended on Tumblr are members of the same fandoms as me. We write fan fiction and binge everything with our favorite actors. This is the first time we’ve met in person, and my introverted self already regrets the decision.

The two women standing beside me will never let me escape without answering their question. I steel myself before speaking. “Burke was a decent choice, and Parker would have been amazing, but neither of them have the depth to play a conflicted character like Commander Colton.” I regard them with a level stare.

“Then who would you cast?” Ginger asks, folding her arms across her chest. The summer sun highlights her auburn hair and sets it on fire.

I know exactly who I would cast for the role, and this time, I don’t hesitate. “Jason Hunt.”

“The guy from Throne of Ashes?” Jessica sounds surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah. He’s got depth and range.” I shrug as we near the entrance. “Plus, he’s a damn chameleon. I’ve seen nearly every movie he’s ever been in, and each role is so different. He’s versatile and seamlessly embodies any character.”

“I didn’t realize you’re a Throne of Ashes fan.” Ginger smiles. “That’s a great show. I can’t wait for next season.”

“Should be out early next year.” I turn just as we reach the security guard.

He doesn’t smile as he takes my bag, checks the contents, scans my badge, and steps aside to admit me into the building. Dark hair, dark eyes, no sense of humor. I pity the idiot who crosses him. Security is a thankless job. Poor guy.

“Have a good day.” I beam at him as I walk past.

He grunts in response while repeating the process with the cosplayer behind me.

“Well, he’s a ray of sunshine,” I mutter to Jessica, who laughs when she stops alongside me.

Ginger joins us, breathless, grinning from ear to ear. “Where to first?”

Jessica lingers behind as we wander deeper into the sea of fans heading toward the inner sanctum of the convention center.

“What did you think of the last season of Throne of Ashes?” Ginger squeezes me.

“It needed more scenes with the Forgotten Knight.”

Ginger laughs, and the sound draws the attention of passing fans dressed in varying levels of cosplay. “You may be right about Hunt, though. He would have been a fantastic Commander Colton.”

“But then he wouldn’t be Phinneas Bannon, the Forgotten Knight.”

“That long dark hair and those piercing ice-blue eyes.” Ginger shivers with a longing sigh. “I think it’s his voice that does it for me. Deep, gruff…ugh, sinful.”

Ginger falls back to check on Jessica and I lose myself in a daydream about the Forgotten Knight.

Since I started watching Throne of Ashes and fell down the Forgotten Knight rabbit hole, I’ve been obsessed with watching anything and everything with Jason Hunt. His voice in Throne of Ashes is the character’s voice, not the one I’ve heard in countless interviews and other productions.

But the Forgotten Knight’s voice is by far my favorite. The things I would let that man do to me if he asked in that voice…holy shit.

When we reach the vendor area, Beth is impatiently tapping her foot by the Pokémon stand. She’s wearing a cute little modified cosplay from an animated series called SteamedPunk. The pint-sized hat atop her black hair sits at a jaunty angle, completely at odds with her scowl and narrowed dark eyes.

Beth butts into Jessica and Ginger’s conversation immediately. I shake my head.

“Just trying to get a plan of attack.” Ginger redirects the topic, and I shoot her a grateful look. “I know some of us have photo ops and autograph signings today.”

“Jen and Madre will be hanging out in the signing area today.” Ginger pulls a map from her bag. “We have the group chat. Just check in around one, and we’ll see where everyone is.”

“I don’t think Jessica heard you.” Beth points to her ears.

“I heard everything. Thanks.” Jessica smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Ronnie is waiting for me by the escalator. I’ll catch you guys later.”

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Ginger asks Beth after Jessica disappears into the crowd.

“One of the security guards was an asshole.” Beth sniffed and fluffed her skirt. “Threatened to ban me if I cause any trouble.”

“What did you do?” I blink at her.

Beth’s fandom persona is Mistress Viper, and her comments are as sharp and injurious as her namesake’s bite. She isn’t very well liked by our band of online fangirls because of her critical nature, but she’s a fantastic author. We’ve just learned to take her in small doses.

“I didn’t do a damn thing,” she snaps. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like I’ll see the asshole again. Fuck him.”

Ginger snorts.

“Let’s go.” Beth leads the way, Ginger following and casting me an imploring look over her shoulder.

We make a point to stop at nearly every vendor stall. I love supporting small artists, and events like this are the best way to network with other creatives.

“Oh no! My strap broke.” A woman sobs behind me.

I turn, already fumbling through my bag for a small metal container full of safety pins. “I can help.”

Her eyes fill with tears as I pull a pin from the case.

“Thank you.” She clutches the broken strap to her shoulder to keep it from falling and causing a scene.

“Here, let me…” I take the strap from her hand and locate the broken piece hanging down her back. Within a few moments, I have them fastened together, a pin securing them from underneath. No one will ever know. “There. That should hold until you get a chance to fix it.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” She throws her arms around me. “Thank you so much.”

When she finally lets go, I hand her one of my cards. “Just text this number if you need me again.”

“I will.” She reads the card. “Vicky, thanks again.”

“Go. Enjoy the con.” I smile as she bounds to her friends, free of tears.

Pride fills me. This is why I do this. It makes me happy to know I’ve helped someone avert a cosplay crisis. It’s my calling.

“That was sweet of you,” Ginger says, joining me. “I bet that happens a lot.”

“More than you know.” I sigh and close the bag. “Where’s Be—”

The question dies in my throat when he rounds the corner.

The Forgotten Knight. Phinneas Bannon.

I shake my head and press my hand over my racing heart.

No. It can’t be him.

This is a comic convention. There are bound to be many people dressed as characters from Throne of Ashes. It’s the most popular show on TV right now.

“She’s over there.” Ginger points to a booth to our right but stops when she notices my stare. “Are you okay?” Then she sees the hulking knight stalking toward us. “Oh…damn. He’s good.” She purrs. “That’s the best fucking cosplay I’ve ever seen. He looks just like him.”

His crimson hair reflects the light. This must be a recent adaptation of the character. The “Blessing” episode caught him in a curse and turned his dark auburn hair white in thick streaks. Whoever designed this cosplay has done their homework—it’s nearly an exact reproduction of the character’s wig. Not to mention the intricate detail of the armor on his chest and the maroon tunic underneath.

He stalks through the crowd, his head bowed, eyes focused on the floor. Piercing blue eyes, I would guess. Only contacts could create the vibrant blue on the show, but that’s showbiz. A longsword drapes across his back, the hilt peeking over his broad shoulders.

The closer he comes, the larger he seems. I blink twice as he strides toward me. His attention is focused, his eyes unblinking.

Ginger steps out of the way as he approaches, skirting around me. As he passes, she nudges me. “Ask him for a picture.”

I turn toward him. He’s massive. I inhale deeply, building my courage. His cologne hits me, a warm wave of invitation. It’s intoxicating, drawing me to him.

Then I notice the strap holding his great sword is barely tethered. Only one thread remains, threatening to snap with the slightest motion.

My conscience kicks in. “Sir.” I reach out to tap his shoulder. “Excuse me.”

He spins, and blue eyes narrow on me. Not winter blue, but wary sky blue.

“Your strap. It’s frayed…the sword will fall.” I open my bag and dig through the contents, searching for something strong enough to hold leather. “I can fix it, just give me a minute.”

“Fix it?” The gruffness of his voice mirrors the character’s. A flawless imitation.

I brace a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. It’s probably the worst thing I can do because it brings me closer to him.

Oh god, what am I doing? Inside, I’m freaking out. Just fix the strap. Focus.

I locate the proper thread and needle. “Take it off, please.”

His brow rises. “I beg your pardon.”

“The sword…take it off so I can fix the strap.” I meet his gaze. Parties of bees and butterflies take flight in my stomach. “Please.”

His jaw flexes as he considers my words before he relents and pulls the strap over his head. The moment he does, the final thread breaks free.

“Huh.” He touches it with a gloved finger and sighs. “You were right.”

He hands it to me, and I take it with a smile, ignoring the way his hand brushes mine. “Won’t take long.”

We stand in silence as I thread a needle, then use the holes in the leather as a guide. He holds the sword as I work on the sheath and strap. Within minutes, I’ve repaired it, and I beam with pride when I return it to his oversized hand.

God, this man is massive. I stare up at him as he puts the sheath in place and positions the sword on his shoulder.

“My thanks, dear lady.” He remains in character with a small bow. “You saved me from disaster.”

My grin widens. “I am at your service, good sir.” I hand him a card. “Take this and call upon me should you happen to require my services once more.”

The lightness of the banter takes away the remaining nerves fluttering in my stomach. Whoever this cosplayer is, he’s fucking amazing.

“Do you do this professionally?” I ask, reaching out to touch the breastplate. “The craftsmanship of this cosplay is truly spectacular.”

“It’s more of a hobby…” He clears his throat. “Thank you.”

“I’m a costume designer, and I know quality work when I see it.” I grin. “Your Forgotten Knight is…well, unforgettable. Bravo.”

“Would you like a photo for your wall of conquests?” His cheeks pinken. “I mean your averted cosplay crises.”

I gasp playfully. “How do you know about that wall? It’s a secret.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He winks.

I hold my phone out for a selfie. He’s leaning in close when Ginger appears.

“I’ll take it.”

She snatches the phone from my hand, and I link my arm through the knight’s. His warmth sinks into me, and the dizzying scent of him fills my head with wicked thoughts. I smile and lean against his shoulder.

Ginger snaps a few photos. “Got it.”

I feel the heat of his breath on my cheek as I draw away.

“Thank you again.” The deep grumble of his voice ignites longing deep inside me.

My response catches in my throat as Ginger hands back the phone. “Seriously, that cosplay is amazing.”

He nods to Ginger, then looks at me. “Until we meet again.” And with a bow, he takes his leave.

The Forgotten Knight disappears into the crowd, drawing stares with every step. I stand there watching him until Ginger tugs at my arm.

“Girl, you should have asked for his number.” She sighs. “Damn, he is fine.”

I shrug and unlock my phone. There, our picture is immortalized in pixels. I look ridiculous with my peace sign, clinging to his arm like an insipid lovesick fan.

Which would have been true if he were the real deal, but there’s no way in hell Jason Hunt would come to Philly for a fan convention…in cosplay of his own character. No fucking way.

“Come on, Beth is waiting for us.” Ginger tugs my arm.

“One sec.” I murmur before uploading the photo to Instagram.

Saved another cosplay today! Isn’t this one amazing? I type the caption with a few hashtags, then post it.

After I tuck my phone away, I take one last look through the shifting crowd.

He’s gone.

Damn it. Ginger is right. I should have asked for his number. Too late now. Maybe I’ll run into him later.

Pushing regret aside, I join Ginger and Beth to search for our fangirl companions.

The Cosplayer releases February 25th.

Pre Order is LIVE on all platforms.