DoofusAscendant

Violet is a typical, down-on-her-luck millennial: mid-twenties, over-educated and drowning in debt, on the verge of moving into her parent’s basement. When a lifeline appears in the form of a very unconventional job in neighboring Cambric Creek, she has no choice but to grab at it with both hands.

Morning Glory Milking Farm offers full-time hours, full benefits, and generous pay with no experience needed . . . there’s only one catch. The clientele is Grade A certified prime beef, with the manly, meaty endowments to match. Milking minotaurs isn’t something Violet ever considered as a career option, but she’s determined to turn the opportunity into a reversal of fortune.

When a stern, deep-voiced client begins to specially request her for his milking sessions, maintaining her professionalism and keeping him out of her dreams is easier said than done. Violet is resolved to make a dent in her student loans and afford name-brand orange juice, and a one-sided crush on an out-of-her-league minotaur is not a part of her plan—unless her feelings aren’t so one-sided after all.

Morning Glory Milking Farm is a short human/monster romance novel, featuring a high heat slow burn with a lot of heart, and a guaranteed HEA. CWs include: cock milking, non-human anatomy, size difference, and a lot of fluid. It is the first book in the Cambric Creek monster romance series, and can be read as a standalone.

Obligatory "the most unrealistic part of this book is the notion that you can get a job and pay down your student loans."

Wait 'til you hear the OG minotaur's origin story.

Just yesterday I had to comb through a 17-ft roll of parchment looking for a dropped semicolon.

Good! Watch these moves well

Man but where would we be if he didn't have those extra two years he lived, only to die of his refusal to get actual medical treatment? Think of the iPhones!

I'd ask how he keeps getting to the top of the transplant list given how many people die every year waiting for organs but I feel like I already know the answer

Turn 13 in 2039.
Receive government account for Facebook, the social media site where the dead outnumber the living.
Make first of three daily mandated posts.
Get a comment from Uncle Carl, who died in the Drone Wars.
It's a picture of a pig pooping on its own balls.

Ah yes, the thing people have been predicting since the 1920's is surely be at hand thanks to this latest productivity-increasing innovation.

The skeleton army has an awesome dental plan and a generous vacation allowance.

They ended up doing a cartoon series that has apparently been running for over 15 years: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Kratts

The 80's/90's problematically horny sci fi era will never be replicated by man nor machine.