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missparker · 3 months

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My second novel, Two is a Pattern, is now available! If you're a Kindle Unlimited user, both Two is a Pattern and Honey in the Marrow are back in KU. You can also buy the paperback on Amazon if you want to hold it in your hot little hands.

Thank you to everyone who consistently supports my journey by reading, reviewing, or reblogging. It truly means the world to me and other small authors.

Here's what Two is a Pattern is all about:

A mission gone wrong leads to rising-star CIA operative Annie Weaver quitting her job and reinventing herself as a college student. But the CIA, desperate for her skills, refuses to let her go without a price. Annie finds herself juggling classes in Criminology and falling for her beautiful landlord, Professor Helen Everton, while dealing with off-the-books secret missions for an increasingly controlling ex-boss. As the perceptive Helen circles ever closer to the truth, Annie has to figure out how to keep her freedom without putting Helen in danger—and without revealing her own past.

Happy reading!

#ylva publishing #two is a pattern #emily waters #sapphic fiction #small author

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ylvapublishing · 11 months

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Lesbian Heroes 🏳️‍🌈

Mabel Hampton (May 2, 1902 – October 26, 1989)

“I have been a lesbian all my life, for eighty-two years, and I am proud of myself and my people. I would like all my people to be free in this world, my gay people and my black people.” – Mabel Hampton (New York Pride 1984)

Mabel Hampton was born in 1902. She was a Black lesbian activist, dancer and philanthropist. Born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, Hampton was only two months old when her mother died. She was raised by her grandmother and then by her aunt and uncle, who treated her badly. From the age of eight to 17, Hampton lived with a white family in New Jersey. In 1919 she went to jail for prostitution, which she saw as a lesbian code. After serving 13 months of a three-year sentence at Bedford Hills, Hampton was released. In the 1920s, Hampton danced in all-black productions alongside the stars of the Harlem Renaissance. In 1932 she met Lillian Foster and the two women began a relationship that lasted until Foster's death in 1978. Throughout the 60s, Hampton was the central figure in a black lesbian community that flourished in the Bronx, and in 1974 she began working with the Lesbian Herstory Archives. Mabel was also an important person in the gay rights movement - she participated in every gay pride march during her lifetime, including the first historic march and demonstration for gay rights in Washington, D.C., in 1979. In 1985, Mabel was named Grand Marshal of the New York City Gay Pride March. In the same year, Mabel received a lifetime achievement award from the National Coalition of Black Lesbians and Gays. Interviews with Mabel are featured in the movies „Before Stonewall“ and „Silent Pioneers“, both of which document the struggle for gay rights and efforts to achieve equality. Mabel died of pneumonia in 1989 in New York, USA, at the age of eighty-seven.

#lesbian books #ylva publishing #ylva blog #lesfic #lgbt books #wlw books #sapphic books #queer books #lesbian history #queer history

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tianawarner · 8 months

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6 Sapphic Fake Relationship romances launching in 2023

Here are six sapphic romance novels featuring fake dating launching this year! Enjoy!

1. The Road Trip Agreement

2. Iris Kelly Doesn't Date

3. The Fiancée Farce

4. The Honeymoon Mix-Up

5. Not for a Moment

6. Fly With Me

Please add any I missed! :)

#sapphic books #book recommendations #sapphic #wlw #f/f #fake dating #sapphic romance #wlw romance #f/f romance #ylva publishing #andie burke #tiana warner #cheyenne blue #frankie fyre #alexandria bellefleur #ashley herring blake

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oliviajanaefics · 1 year

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Heeeey pretty people! So at long last, my website is finally back up. Now that I have this, I have to start building the newsletter peeps back up. I’ll do something official later, but if you’re interested, head to the site and sign up!

#olivia janae #The Loudest Silence #ylva publishing #lesfic

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fiction-bks · 1 year

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𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗦: 𝚂𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙷𝙸𝙲. 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚈. 𝙱𝙾𝙾𝙺𝟸. 𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝚀𝚄𝙴𝙴𝙽. 𝚂𝙻𝙴𝚄𝚃𝙷. 𝙰𝙽𝙶𝚂𝚃.

📚ᴀʀᴄ📖 - 🧘🏽‍♀️🧘🏽‍♀️🧘🏽‍♀️

Margaret Gale and Bess Campbell had the most emotional chaos ever. I loved that I could still recognise the behaviourism of both characters even after reading book 1 in 2019. The emotional development on Margaret's character is very intriguing because in book 1, she was intense. Bess seemed a little different too but that was stated in the book and given the circumstances, it was very understandable.

𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗨𝗧𝗛: I enjoyed the detective part in this book. It was a little straining to understand and get into but when the good parts started, well, that was just fun. Yes, the circumstances around the detecting part were rough but I was saddened when Bess didn't tag along with Margaret on the major parts. Mainly because, I didn't understand what she was doing with those forest-people. That near-ending was well-coordinated. I loved it.

𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗧: I love angst and angst that comes in form of tantrums is like my ultimate favourite and there was tons of it here. It was really adorable but when it got intense at the near-end, that wasn't so cute because the situation was getting dangerous.

𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I enjoyed this one as well as the first one. I missed the chickens from book 1. 𝙋𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧: Were Viviane and Antoinette identical twins? or just sisters? I missed that part.

#ylva publishing #wlwbookreview #wlwbooks #wlw #sapphicbooks #netgalley #arc review

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kdwilliamson-author · 1 year

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Plagiarism and Pink

Even though I haven’t written fanfiction in a millennia, I enjoy getting DM’s and emails from readers who have just discovered my work. For those who don’t know, I used to write Xena Fanfic and then I moved on to Rizzles. I am forever thankful for the later because it paved the way to me getting published with Ylva. Where is all this leading you ask? Well, I woke up the other morning to a DM on…

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#audiobook #Cops and Docs Series #fanfic #Lesbian fiction #Plagiarism #Rizzles #Wattpad #Writing #Ylva Publishing

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missparker · 5 months

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Hi! It's me, here to show you my new book that comes out in January. Right now, you can add it to your wish list on the Ylva shop or to your want-to-read shelf on Goodreads.

I love this story and I hope you will too.

#two is a pattern #emily waters #sapphic fiction #ylva publishing

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ylvapublishing · 1 year

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WLW Book Rec for Wednes Addams!

#video #lesbian books #lesfic #wlw books #sapphic books #lesbian fiction #lgbt books #queer books #ylva publishing

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tianawarner · 2 years

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From Fan to Forever Sneak Peek

From Fan to Forever is a sizzling f/f age-gap romance between a university student and a middle-aged actress who needs help preparing for her role in a movie. It launches on July 6 with Ylva Publishing, and today, I wanted to share a special sneak peek of Chapter 1 with you!

Pre-order From Fan to Forever

CHAPTER 1: Dragging Home a Moose Floatie

I’ve been away for one night, and in that time, my street has turned into a movie set.

Easing my car to a stop behind an orange-and-white-striped barricade, I gape at the crowds, white tents, and trailers filling the intersection in front of my apartment. A metal fence surrounds the area like a crime scene.

My gut twists and I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. On any other day, this would be exciting, but all I want right now are my bathtub, bed, and painkillers. Today is supposed to be a blissful day off before I have to start my master’s thesis research, not a daring crusade to get to my front door.

A crane lifts a camera high into the air, where ropes and wires crisscross above the set. Is that a zip-line leading into my favorite pizza place? What kind of over-the-top action flick is this?

My third-floor balcony is visible from here, with its two wooden patio chairs and the wilted hydrangeas that Abby and I never remember to water. In the window beside it, my dark bedroom curtains are shut, as always.

Staying home to spy on the set would have been more fun than that stupid-ass camping trip, but here I am, sweaty and hungover.

Scowling, I back up my rusty, old SUV and circle the block, searching for a way into the parkade.

In the rearview, my reflection is waxy and pale, and my short, sandy hair is so greasy that it’s a shade darker, like I’ve just come out of the shower. Self-loathing has sucked the confidence from my posture.

Yeah, I was an idiot, but in my defense, Julia was flirting with me and totally into it.

“ʻOoh, Rachel, let’s get naked in the lake together,ʼ” I say to the windshield, mimicking her sultry tone.

It’s hard to believe that the unspoken thing between us is over—late-night study sessions, hanging out after class, inside jokes, our shared suffering as we both go after master’s degrees in medical physics. She’d quickly become a good friend, and after she found out I’m a lesbian, she started asking questions about my love life and wanting to hang out more—like she was curious. Like maybe she thought she wasn’t straight and wanted to explore some things.

Months of anticipation, over in one night, leaving me hollow.

This camping trip was supposed to be a big end-of-term celebration for our department. For Julia and me, it was a culmination, an excuse to get drunk and spend a couple of nights together.

The tension between us was ready to snap, and it did—so hard that it gave me whiplash.

I rub my temple, weaving through the streets and trying to get to my parkade. The movie set takes up way more space than it has any right to, forcing me to make a wide perimeter. As soon as I figure out how to get to my apartment, I’m filling the bathtub and dropping in a glittery bath bomb. Since I left yesterday morning, I’ve swum in a lake, gotten sweaty, been briefly rained on, and walked through a lot of spiderwebs, so I need a good scrub. My skin is so sticky that my shirt is plastered to my back.

After circling for ten minutes, I resign myself to parking three blocks away. I drag my camping gear down the road—the bag of damp clothes, the cooler of food I never ate, and a mostly deflated moose floatie. The early summer heat wave adds more sweat to what’s already dried to my skin. I’d better not run into any neighbors in the elevator, or they’ll be in for a treat when they get a whiff of me.

I swipe my fob to get inside, and before I open the door, laughter erupts behind me.

I whirl around, ready to tell off whoever is laughing at me for dragging camping gear down the street, but the sound is coming from the movie set.

A metal fence separates me from the set—they have to keep us peasants out, obviously—and white tents block most of my view beyond it. Between two tents is a gap that tunnels my vision to a point.

My heart does a wild, out-of-control flip, knocking me off balance so that I have to grab the door handle to stay standing.

Cate Whitney is on the other side of the fence, talking to a tattooed guy with a boom mic.

Cate. Whitney.

I forget how to breathe.

In her early forties and well-established on the A-list, she carries herself with easy confidence. She’s rocking a badass black and brown steampunk outfit, including a corset, thigh-high fishnet stockings, a frilly skirt that exposes her thighs in front and hangs calf-length in the back, and a top hat with goggles resting on the brim. Her shoulder-length blond hair is in soft curls, and her white skin has a warm glow, like she’s been in the tropics. She’s wearing her signature mischievous smirk, her makeup drawing attention to her sharp cheekbones and ice-blue eyes.

How is it possible for anyone to be so attractive? I guess that’s why she ended up in Hollywood. She’s the type of woman who can rock a tux better than any man and a Valentino dress better than a runway model.

Seeing her in person sparks memories of pivotal moments in my life, making my chest flutter.

When I saw her kiss a woman in a 2000s historical drama, that was the moment I knew. Though the movie was fiction and the actors were straight, their love felt so real, sending butterflies through me. I wanted what those women had—their passion for each other, the connection that reached beyond friendship, the purity of their love.

I asked out my crush after seeing it, and she said yes.

On our fourth date, we watched that same movie together, and I made out with a girl for the first time.

So I’m not being dramatic when I say that Cate Whitney changed my life.

Now, standing with the poise of a goddess, that woman is ten feet away. She’s deep in conversation with the guy with the boom mic, but that doesn’t stop her from looking past him and meeting my eye.

Why? Why does she have to see me when I look like I climbed out of a dumpster?

Reflexively, I offer an awkward half-smile, which she returns.

My insides flip. This is either the greatest thing ever to happen to me or the worst, depending on whether she can smell me from this distance.

Regaining feeling in my legs, I whip open the door of my building and hurtle myself inside, then grab my camping gear and drag it in after me. The moose floatie smacks the door frame on the way in.

Cate freaking Whitney is feet away from me, filming a movie.

I hyperventilate my way up to my apartment and unlock the door with trembling hands. The familiar smell of home hits my nose—sweet-orange essential oil diffusing on the kitchen island, woven with layers of shampoo, burnt toast, and cheap coffee. Abby must be up.

I dump my camping gear and rush through the kitchen and living room toward the balcony. The apartment is as I left it, cluttered and full of low-maintenance plants. My laptop, heap of textbooks, and blanket nest are untouched on my side of the couch. Trinkets from travels, books, and pictures of friends and family take up every surface. It’s disorganized—Abby prefers the term eclectic—but it’s home.

I slide open the patio door and burst through to spy on the movie set.

The view is awe-inspiring. They’ve built a clockwork storefront over my favorite coffee shop. White tents and trailers, the back of wooden structures, and a lot of expensive film equipment clutter the intersection.

From the depths of the apartment, footsteps pad closer, and Abby says, “You smell like worn-off deodorant and sunscreen. I thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.”

“Cate Whitney is down there,” I whisper-shout, scanning the dozens of people milling about the set.

“Fuck off!” Abby screams, rushing beside me to peer over the balcony.

I clap a hand over her mouth. “Shh!”

Abby pries my hand off. “You saw her?”

“Right as I was coming inside.” I wrack my brain for the last headline I saw about Cate Whitney. “She must be filming Clockwork Curie.”

There she is. She’s with a group of people behind the cameras, pointing at a monitor and nodding. She’s easy to spot because of the outfit but also because of that abnormally attractive Hollywood look. What is with that?

“Clockwork what?” Abby says.

“It’s a steampunk movie about Marie Curie,” I whisper. “The scientist. We were talking about it in class not long ago.”

As if a high-budget movie about science hero Marie Curie isn’t awesome enough, they had to go and cast Cate Whitney as the lead. Excuse me while I cry feminist tears.

“Abby, she was, like, ten feet away from me,” I say, making sure she understands the situation.

I peel my gaze away from the set. Abby is wearing a smart navy blazer and no pants. Her thick, dark hair is styled to emphasize its natural waves, she’s wearing makeup, and her oversized glasses are unusually free of smudges.

“What’s up with you?” I ask.

“Virtual job interview.”

“What company?”

“Enough about me. Are you going to try and meet Cate?”

My heart jumps at the question like I’ve just been dive-bombed by an angry crow. “What? No. She’s working.”

“Girl, you’ve been obsessed with her since before you knew you were a lesbian. Remember the magazine pictures taped to your high school locker?”

“Shh!” I say, dragging Abby inside. I slam the patio door and round on her. “I can’t just walk up to her!”

“Sure you can. Rachel, this is the universe bringing you an opportunity,” she says, picking lint off her blazer. “Seize it.”

I rub my tired eyes. Cate Whitney really is a queer icon. Between her film roles, her wardrobe, and being an outspoken ally, I’m positive that if someone were to poll all of the lesbians and ask them to rank their top celebrity crushes, she would win the popular vote.

I guess I could try to say hi to my hero. The prospect sends a nervous thrill through my chest. “What would I even say?”

Abby opens the bamboo privacy screen we use as a backdrop during video calls, which conveniently masks the surrounding disaster. “I don’t know. Big fan of your work?”

“Ugh, that’s so normal.”

“If you want her to remember you for something abnormal, fine, but I think you’re better off sticking with something average here.”

“Fair enough.” I hesitate, heart thumping. Then I shake my head firmly. “No, I can’t. It’s too awkward.”

“You have to!”

Carefully, she places her laptop in front of the dirty dishes and unfolded laundry on the kitchen table.

“You just want me out of the apartment during your interview,” I say.

“Well, yes, but I also want you to seize the day. Do it. I’m not letting you back in until you say at least one word to her.”

“Excuse me?” I say, laughing.

“You heard me, Rachel Henrietta Janssen,” she says severely. “I’m shoving you out the door and bolting it until you succeed.”

“What if I’m not allowed on se—”

“I double dare you,” she says in a girly tone reminiscent of our high school slumber parties.

“Oh, shut it.”

She makes chicken noises and I throw a tissue box at her. It bounces off her chest.

“Did Amelia Earhart let people stop her from achieving her goals?” she asks, waving her arms.

“Amelia Earhart died while achieving her goal, Abby.”

“Beside the point. You’ll thank me later.”

I chew my lip. As uncomfortable as it would be to approach a celebrity, I would live my life in deep regret if I didn’t do it. Cate Whitney is more than a celebrity crush. She’s a legend, an icon who helped me discover my sexuality and come out.

“It’s not like you’re the only one. I saw a couple of girls leaning over the fence to get pics with the actors last night,” Abby says, a wry smile on her lips, like she knows I’m at my tipping point.

I can’t help it—my face breaks into a grin. “Dare accepted. I’ll ask her to sign the back of my phone.”

I grab a permanent marker from the jar on the counter.

“An autograph? What kind of person in this day and age—” Abby stops, probably remembering that the alternative is to ask for a selfie, and I hate having my picture taken. “I guess having Cate Whitney’s signature on the back of your phone would be cool.”

“Hell yeah, it would. Do I have time to shower before your interview?”

“Yes!” Abby squeals in excitement. She opens her laptop and settles into a chair, checking the position of the privacy screen. “You’ve got twenty-four minutes to get out of here. Why are you back early, anyway? How was camping?”

“Good luck with your interview,” I shout, racing to the bathroom.

My attempt to dodge her question doesn’t work, and she chases after me.

“How was camping, Rachel?”

“Fine!”

“Liar.”

Ugh, she’s too perceptive.

Before I can shut the door, she wedges her hand between it and the frame.

“What happened with Julia, Rachel?”

That’s the end of Chapter 1! Thanks for reading :) I'm so excited for this book launch! You can preorder From Fan to Forever now ✨

#f/f books #f/f #WLW books #sapphic books #lesfic #lesbian books #lesbian romance #f/f romance #gxg #GL #LGBTQ books #age-gap #celebrity romance #ylva publishing

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womenusingwords · 1 year

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Chaos Agent

The details… Title: Chaos Agent Author: Lee Winter Publisher : Ylva Publishing Publication date: February 8, 2023 (Ylva Publishing), no date set yet for Amazon Available formats: epub, mobi, pdf, paperback (Amazon) Length: 352 pages/105,000 words IBSN: 978-3-96324-750-7 (ebook), 978-3-96324-751-4 (pdf) Genre: romantic mystery/thriller Themes: politics, political agendas, media, good vs…

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jazzfordshire · 2 months

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WAIT JAZZ YOU'RE PUBLISHING A BOOK WHAT.??? CONGRATS AND OMG WANT TO BUYYYY

YEAH I STILL DON'T REALLY FEEL LIKE IT'S REAL BUT HERE WE ARE

Ylva Publishing approached me to turn small town au into a book??? Which is. Insane honestly but they've been very kind to me about my massive impostor syndrome lmao.

TO BE CLEAR: the original fic will not be deleted when I publish, I feel I need to be really vocal about that haha my biggest reason for not publishing has always been that I never want to delete my fics, so the original will always be accessible to everyone on ao3 and I'm obviously going to keep writing fanfic because I can't stop won't stop

#i have too many WIPs to ever stop with supercorp #the first draft is almost done already so it's full steam ahead with fanfic still obviously

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performativezippers · 2 months

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If you don’t mind me asking, how did you find a writing agent to represent you? Been interested in writing a book for a while and I thought you might have some pointers since your posts are so informative and I think you’re an awesome writer :)

Great question, and thank you so much!

Background: The reason you get an agent is because you're interested in having your book published by a publisher (not self-publishing). Not all publishing houses require you to have an agent, but all of the big ones do, and many of the other legit ones. Some big exceptions are boutique small presses, like Ylva, for example, who accept unagented submissions and sometimes even solicit people.

But in most cases, if you want to be published by a publishing house, you need an agent, which is because these houses do not accept book submissions from authors. they only accept them from agents; ergo, to be published you need to submit, and to submit you need an agent.

Answer to your question: The way you get an agent is by applying, a lot like a job application. Here are the steps:

You need to write your whole book first (unless it's nonfiction) and have it be as good as you can possibly make it. That means beta readers, editing rounds, everything. Get it to the level where if you were self publishing, you'd be done.

You write what's called a query letter for your book, which is essentially a cover letter. Title, word count, comparison titles, plot hook, character intros, take them through about 50% of the plot, establish clear stakes, plus a bio about you. All of this in 400 words, mind you. This is often the hardest thing you'll ever write. I find the podcast "The Shit No One Tells You About Writing" to be the very best way to learn how to do this, and also a LOT of great stuff about writing craft. I listen religiously even though I haven't queried in years.

Research agents. There are thousands of agents out there. Some don't rep in your genre, some are not accepting queries (only working with the clients they already have). You can follow them on social media and search "Manuscript Wishlist" or MSWL to see what they are looking for.

Start querying! Send your query letter and sample pages (usually the first 10-50 pages, depending on what each specific agent wants) to agents, usually in batches of 10-15 at a time.

WAIT

Some agents get back to you very quickly. Most never get back to you at all, and you figure sometime between 6 weeks and 6 months is a pass. It's a very awful, sad, dehumanizing process that you need to be prepared for.

I queried for a year. I queried 65 agents. I only received one offer of representation. I think this low success rate was because I had a weird book that was outside of any typical genre (this was my fault, not that I created something new) and a bad query letter, but my writing was good and my now-agent saw potential in me.

But I will say this: If the only reason you want to write a book is to be published, you should either be good with self-publishing, or not do it. The odds of being published are astoundingly low. There are many many more talented authors than there are slots for debut novels. It takes talent and perseverance and luck to make it through all of these processes and emerge with a book deal, especially from a large publishing house that will pay you an advance and treat you well.

So I'd say, write the book if you want to write the book. Make it a joyful process whose best possible outcome is it being written. And then when you're done with it, if you're ready to drink from a firehose of research, resources, rejection, and hope, then fucking do it!

#ask zipps #publishing #publishing fiction #querying

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 6 months

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The reason I haven’t published any new fics for a little while is that every time I sit and get comfortable to write, Ylva does this on my lap and then falls asleep.