Did you ever see a dream walking? Well, I did…and I’m not just quoting that old 1933 song of the same name. In her poem, “Still I Rise”, Maya Angelou penned these words:
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave
Every time I look in a mirror, I realize I may be some slave’s dream walking.
Somewhere in North Carolina, my great-grandmother Julie Pitt Hagan’s people were owned by a man named Pitt. On January 1, 1863 when Abraham Lincoln issued the final Emancipation Proclamation, which declared “that all persons held as slaves” within the rebel states “are, and henceforward shall be free,” the slaves on the Pitt plantation could consider themselves freed.
I wonder did Julie’s people gather and listen to a reading of the proclamation as depicted in this 1864 engraving printed by James Watts? If they did, did they dream and hope of a descendant like me, owned by no one but herself? If they did, have I — their descendent — lived a life that realized their dreams and hopes?
The Brooklyn church I served once held a Watchnight service to ring in the new year. When the clock struck twelve, we ended the service with the reading of the Emancipation Proclamation. As the words were read, I experienced the anticipation – and trepidation — my ancestors might have felt as January 1 1863 brought with it the possibility of freedom. I felt inspired to live a life worthy of my ancestors’ dreams and hopes. As I worshipped that night I recalled Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1963 dream that called for economic and social justice for all. I resolved to make that dream my dream, too.
This month as we honor Dr. King’s life and work, I encourage you to think about the dreams and hopes of your ancestors, reflect on the dreams and hopes of all people everywhere continuing to rise above circumstances and conditions that conspire to keep them down. You, like me, are somebody’s dream, somebody’s hope. Be a dream walking, see dreams walking all around you and do all you can to bring them pass.
Better to Mary Than to Burn
Wife Wanted: Marital relations as necessary. Love not required nor sought…
A bridal lottery seems the height of foolishness to ex-slave Caesar King, but his refusal to participate in the town council’s scheme places him in a bind. He has to get married to avoid paying a high residence fine or leave the Texas territory. After losing his wife in childbirth, Caesar isn’t ready for romance. A woman looking for a fresh start without any emotional strings is what he needs.
Queen Esther Payne, a freeborn black from Philadelphia, has been threatened by her family for her forward-thinking, independent ways. Her family insists she marry. Her escape comes in the form of an ad. If she must marry, it will be on her terms. But her first meeting with the sinfully hot farmer proves an exciting tussle of wills that stirs her physically, intellectually, and emotionally.
In the battle of sexual one-upmanship that ensues, both Caesar and Queen discover surrender can be as fulfilling as triumph.
Caesar looked at Queen. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. She gasped then swallowed hard, unnerved by the sight. Her lips trembled.
Reverend Warren smiled at Queen then addressed Caesar. “You may kiss the bride.”
Kiss? Queen flinched. There’d be no kissing in this marriage. She’d promised to be his wife for two years with sex provided at agreed upon intervals. At the end of two years that requirement would end and she’d be free to live as she chose. She could go anywhere she pleased, especially with the respectability of missus before her name and Caesar’s promised severance. No. This coupling made them business partners. Business partners did not kiss.
She extended her hand to seal their arrangement. He returned the handshake but instead of releasing her, his too rough fingers imprisoned hers and pulled her to him. With his other hand he captured the back of her head and secured her mouth to his.
A squeal of surprise parted her lips. His thick tongue swept into the shelter of her mouth. The assault ambushed her with pleasure and vanquished her resistance.
Her hands rose, as if of their own volition, and pressed against his chest. The firm muscle beneath his shirt coaxed her hands to linger, to explore—however discretely—the muscle beneath her palms and fingertips.
Caesar broke off the kiss.
The embrace didn’t last more than a few seconds, but Queen swayed, robbed of reason and resentment.
Reverend Warren handed Caesar the marriage certificate and shook his hand. Queen stood, mouth gaping, startled by the confusion roiling through her mind, amazed by the moisture roiling in her sex.
With a simple kiss, this bull of a man had exhumed the sexual hunger she’d thought buried.
“Thanks for being available, Pastor.” Caesar shook the minister’s hand. “Mother Maybelle.” He hugged and kissed the older woman. Again, their affection stirred an unexpected sympathy in Queen’s chest. She sucked in a breath to dispel it.
He gripped Queen by the upper arm and hauled her back to the wagon.
“What’s the rush?” she asked.
He hoisted her up to the seat by her waist before she could object. She swallowed the gasp elicited by the press of possession in his grasp.
“Daylight’s burning,” he stated. “Don’t want to be caught out after dark.”
Queen eyed his lips, their fullness still remembered against her mouth. She shifted several times but found no relief from the pressure pulsing along her labia. Good Lord, how was she to make sense of so strong a physical reaction to this stranger? Had celibacy left her defenseless against physical contact from anyone?
I’ve written romance for the last five years. In that time, I’ve read even more. From contemporary to paranormal I love multiple sub-genres. In that same amount of time, I’ve always loved action adventure movies, including sci-fi movies and shows. Imagine my surprise when my muse sent me an idea that would combine them both.
Queue the futuristic world, where humans have colonized the galaxy and the richest have migrated to planets like Jupiter, Neptune, and Saturn, leaving Earth to become a haven for the production of drugs and booze. Out of these ashes emerge drug runners and bootleggers to carry the fruits of Earth’s labor to the upper planets, outsmarting the government and making as much money as they can.
It’s a bit lawless, and crafting this story and world was filled with fun and a bit of frustration. I did plenty of research in the form of watching episodes of some awesome movies and television shows. Today, I want to talk about some of my favorites.
First up, Farscape. We humans think we’re the smartest beings in the known universe. When NASA Scientist and Astro-genius, John Crichton is slingshot to the far side of the universe, he finds out otherwise. Add in the super soldier, Aeryn Sun, female bad ass, and I was smitten from episode one. Fun fact is how the Muppet Studios were involved in this series and the unique, fresh take on possible alien species. Four seasons was never enough.
Second, Dark Matter. This series is another that was cut too short. There was so much to explore, from character dynamics to other dimensional threats. Beyond that, this is another series where there are a ton of strong females to feed off of as inspiration—Number Two and her fabulous run as captain of a ship, add in a younger female techie, Number Five, and the ever hilarious Android. It’s a female fab cast, rounded out with male characters who respect and support them even amid heists and running from the law.
Finally, Firefly. This 13-episode series holds a special place in my heart, as it does for many. The dialogue is priceless, the character building sublime. Nobody holds a candle to Captain Malcolm Reynolds, the guy who wants to be an anti-hero, but ultimately isn’t. Kaylee, River, and Zoe. Yes, I like Inara too, but she’s not my favorite. The strong females are fabulous and not in the least intimidated by their Captain. If anything his strengths encourage the ladies to run with their own.
I’ve waxed poetic enough about my favorite sci-fi shows. What are yours? There are many I haven’t mentioned. Some more spec fiction than sci-fi per se. Like Fringe, Warehouse 13, Sliders, Star Trek (all the iterations). Tell me your favorite sci-fi show, movie, character – even if it’s from a video game. Be sure to comment to get in on my sweet giveaway in honor of my new release, A Talent For Trouble.
A Talent For Trouble
Drug runner Emilio Morales is one deal away from being the sole runner from Earth to the upper planets—until his partner attempts a double-cross. Now, Emilio’s stuck in a disabled spaceship with an unpredictable, attractive female who’s willing to help him out if he’ll assist her in retrieving her ship from an impound facility.
Antonia ‘Toni’ Smith is sick and tired of being beholden to men. The only way to guarantee freedom is to get back her bootlegging ship to run her own business again. When Emilio kills her ticket out, she’s forced to rely on him for assistance. Emilio, the most wanted and annoying man in the solar system, is a sexy-as-hell means to an end.
But every plan the duo makes falls apart and every day they spend in each other’s company increases the tension between them.
With the death toll rising and their defenses low, can Emilio and Toni get the happy ending they want, without falling for each other in the process?
He poured himself a glass. Turning it slowly, spreading the liquid up the sides and back down, he noticed he wasn’t alone. “Can I offer you a drink?”
“No,” a sultry feminine voice responded. “There’s nothing over there isn’t made in the still or fermented in a barrel.”
“Suit yourself.” Emilio turned and took in the view. Mother Mary.
The woman, a vision of sin, stood angled toward the fancy window display where three floor-to-ceiling panels showcased the twinkling view. She wore a glimmering red dress, which sparkled even more as she turned toward him. Her hair was a pale-white blonde, short and framing her face, giving it a distinct diamond shape. She’d be labeled gorgeous, more than the word could construe, with her eyes the color of whiskey—and not the cheap stuff in his glass. No, the full-bodied swirling amber and caramel colors.
“What brings you to Casa Manolo?” He swallowed a little more whiskey than he intended and did his best to sound suave, but the words came out more like a croak.
“Nothing that concerns you.” The dismissal paired with a smile, a little thing revealing flawless teeth. He glanced down at her one note of defiance—boots. Grav boots to be exact, black and fierce. A deep, soul-encapsulating need clamped onto his brain, a need he’d waited years to experience. This was the woman he’d been waiting for. The type he’d always wanted. The one he’d call his.
He walked closer, eager to see if she took a similar interest in him. “Oh? Well, I’m happy to make this visit less business and more pleasure. Your name is?”
The words escaped his mouth as he glanced at her lips—expressive, full and waiting for his kiss, even when those same lips uttered, “Too expensive for you.”
About the Author
Landra Graf consumes at least one book a day, and has always been a sucker for stories where true love conquers all. She believes in the power of the written word, and the joy such words can bring. In between spending time with her family and having book adventures, she writes romance with the goal of giving everyone, fictional or not, their own happily ever after.
I have very vivid, colorful dreams, peopled with folks I know and tons of celebrities. I really, really ought to start capturing some of them (the dreams, not the celebrities), because I’m sure there’s a story somewhere in there.
Take for instance the one I had the night before last that I mentioned on Facebook. I was editing some dude’s story, working feverishly to finish while my dd was ransacking his files looking for something that proved he’d committed a crime. I kept worrying about him returning too quickly and catching her, and I worried about a sentence I kept having to re-read because I knew something was wrong with it, but I couldn’t figure out what. What did that dream mean? I consulted my copy of the Dream Dictionary, but found nothing under “editing”. Go figure.
I’ve dreamed of buying a mansion with an underground pool, where you enter it from the basement steps. The water is a bit murky and lit from beneath. It’s a gorgeous grotto the Beverly Hillbillies would have loved. The dictionary tells me the basement is where we “bury” trauma. As in bodies of those we’ve wronged. Hmmm. Not quite. My basement wasn’t sinister. So, I looked up “pool”—it’s the “inner world of our thoughts and fantasies”. Put together? I have no clue what it means! I just remember the water feeling slippery and warm and wishing I could swim there forever.
Then there’s the weird shark dream I had…
My dd entered me in a reality show competition. I was game but didn’t know what the competition involved. Until I arrived at a big underground pool…
Wait a second. Pool, again?
The atmosphere was like that of a fight club, people ringing the pool. I felt the tension in the room as I descended the steps. Then I came around a column and saw what the competition involved. Sharks were tethered to a pole. All species—great whites, tiger sharks, huge basking sharks. The sharks had saddles on their backs.
I pulled up short, swung toward my dd, and shook my head.
She gave me a pat and said, “Piece of cake, mom. You swim like a fish.”
“Sharks eat fish!” I hissed back.
Then I saw one of my competing “riders” approach. It was Michelle Rodriguez from the Fast and Furious movies. Her hands were wrapped in fighter’s tape, and she was snarling as she looked me up and down. Which got me mad.
She chose the great white. I chose a tiger shark. When we began, the sharks moved around the pole like a carousel, bumping against each other, taking bites out of other sharks and riders, until only Michelle and I remained in the competition. I was bleeding from being bumped by sandpaper hides, but luckily no bites so far. I rode behind Michelle, she glanced over her shoulder, and guided her shark with her knees to ram into my side. I woke up before I found out who won, but I think she probably did. She was meaner. I was just trying to stay seated on my fish.
So, what’s that dream mean? Well, sharks represent your fear of death. Put that together with pool…? My inner world of fantasies is worrying about death? Hmm. And why is my dd in all my dreams?
Any strange dreams you want to share? Anything you think I can do with my underground fight club-shark rider fantasy—outside of Aquaman fanfic? 🙂
How many of you have been shut up with a kiss? I, for one, find this terribly romantic. Us women tend to rattle on when we’re nervous, and I like a take-charge kind of guy who grabs an opportunity to move forward. End our misery. Show us how much they adore us despite our tendency to leak words under pressure. Have I ever been shut up with a kiss? Yes. It was a first kiss and kind of sloppy. I was young, he was hot, and I didn’t mind the mess because I was too relieved that I didn’t have to find another subject to talk about. I guess my story isn’t the type we romance writers put in a book, but the concept makes my heart go pitter-patter. When I see it in the movies – *SWOON*!
As I write this, I’m thinking back, trying to remember if I ever put a kiss like that in one of my books. Of course I did, but I don’t think it was a first kiss, more like a feverish “shut up and admit we belong together” kind of moment. I love those, too. I wonder how many of you will read this and internally point out the ones you’ve read (or experienced) and remember.
And so we segue into my books that are either free or on sale. For those of you who don’t know me, hello my name is J.A. Dennam and I write contemporary romantic suspense. My Captive Series is a reader favorite. Book 1, Truth and Humility, received a 5-star rating from Coffee Time Romance. Book 2, Between Faith and Fear, is now on sale for .99 until January 31st. Book 3, Crystal Mac, is FREE when you sign up for my newsletter (link to my website below), and book 4, Hell’s Hilltop…okay, you’ll have to shell out the full $4.99, but when you’ve read the first 3 books, you WILL NOT want to miss the fiery conclusion to this steamy, action-packed series. If you like cozy mysteries, you won’t find one beneath these covers. My Captive Series characters are tough, sexy, and they most definitely take prisoners. 😉
Be sure and visit my website at https://www.jadennam.com to sign up for my newsletter and get your free book! It’s also the best way to keep tabs on my special offers, promos, and new releases like Flesh of Innocents, coming in March. Hope to hear from you soon!
Because I am fascinated by the games people play to find and secure a lasting relationship, which is not always love. There’s the chase, the courtship, the falling, the surrender. That’s what I try to capture in my stories.
Q. Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?
I adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge. They can be a bad boy, a billionaire, a prince, or a secret agent. That hint of danger just hooks me! However, I also love strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.
Q. Why did you write “Infamy?”
The characters featured in this story—Sheikh Harun Ali and his wife, Marianne Benson–are both lawyers who focus on international law and their practice is devoted to compensating the victims of terrorism. So I was looking for a new hook, something on the horizon that could pose a serious threat to the world and in particular, the United States. I found it in an article on advances in “cloaking” technology or making planes disappear. For years, we have had stealth planes that do not appear on radar, but can be seen in the air if anyone is looking. I wanted to take that a step further: What if someone created a means to actually cloak a plane and hide it from everyone’s view? What if that technology fell into the hands of terrorists? And “Infamy” was born.
Q. How does your former profession as a lawyer impact your writing?
After 30 years, the law and the legal world are so firmly embedded in my brain that I can’t flush them out. That has become the lens through which I view the world and that naturally guides my characters and plots. Little peculiarities that I have witnessed in lawyers and the law always work their way into my stories.
Q. Any plans to write outside the romance genre completely?
Actually, I ghostwrite non-fiction for other professionals—doctors, lawyers, financial gurus—so I dip my toes into a lot of different genres. However, I have been itching to write a book about a relative who founded a religious cult. I researched it for years and found a lot of information that had been buried. I have a pile of paper a foot high. Someday, I need to go through it carefully and start writing. I have the interest, just not the time.
Infamy
Infamy. An evil or wicked act. Terrorists bent on revenge have found a way to make planes disappear from the sky, without a trace. And when one winds up buried in a Wisconsin cornfield, it’s a race against time to rescue the passengers from certain death.
When international law attorney Sheikh Harun Ali is lured to the Amazon and warned of a frightening plot against the United States, he and his wife, Marianne Benson, enlist the assistance of their neighbors, covert agent Cade Matthews and his wife, Constitutional Law Professor Janet MacLachlan. Ultimately, these feisty lawyers are pushed to the wall, desperate to find a plane that has been buried in an unknown cornfield, the passengers still on board. The terrorists’ hatred for the Alis is absolute—the Alis once left their organization bankrupt and broken—but they hate America more. And their fiendish games are just beginning. They are seeking a much bigger prize, one that could destroy a nation and possibly the world. An act that will live in infamy.
Excerpt:
Cade grasped his water bottle with both hands. “Before his brother died, he said eight words.”
Harun nodded. “They are going to make American planes disappear.”
Dianna’s eyes grew wide.
Anders rubbed a hand over his face, then through his long dark hair. His deep green eyes stared up at the ceiling of the plane. “Fucking hell. Nine-eleven all over again.”
“That is our fear,” Harun said. “However, so many precautionary measures are in place in this country, simply hijacking planes and flying them into buildings is no longer easy. They must have a different plan.”
Cade emitted a heavy sigh. “And that is what we need to figure out. What exactly do those eight words mean? For example, he did not specify that the planes would disappear in America, which could mean that they will disappear abroad or over oceans.”
Anders sat up straight. “And disappear could mean many things. Crash. Hijack. Pull a Malaysia. How many ways can you make a plane disappear?”
Seelie Kay is a nom de plume for a writer, editor, and author with more than 30 years of experience in law, journalism, marketing, and public relations. When she writes about love and lust in the legal world, something kinky is bound to happen! In possession of a wicked pen and an overly inquisitive mind, Ms. Kay is the author of multiple works of fiction, including the Kinky Briefs series, the Feisty Lawyers series, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, and The President’s Daughter.
When not spinning her kinky tales, Ms. Kay ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. She resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, Wisconsin, where she shares a home with her son and enjoys opera, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Ms. Kay is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!
Instead, I said yes when my dd asked whether I’d like to make a trip to Sam’s. Sam’s is an hour away. And an hour back. Inside Sam’s is a world of temptation in big, multi-box glory. We took forever shopping. So, when we wrapped it up, the kids slept in the back of the mini-van while the adults cranked up the Pandora to do some headbanging. And then it was, “Play this!” We went through our hard rock/metal faves—Limp Bizkit’s “Nookie” (I can’t believe how well that song has aged for me!), White Zombie’s “More Human Than Human”, Disturbed’s “Stupefy”—with all of us trying to follow David D’s haunting cantor’s wail (oh my eardrums!).
In the middle of a very satisfying jam, my dd suddenly, joltingly, changed the theme to our least favorite songs, beginning with “Peaches” by The Presidents of the United States of America (which, oddly, we knew all the words to!). But the one that rose to the top of the groans scale was “Brimful of Asha” by Cornershop. Don’t remember it? I bet you’ll wish you didn’t after you have a listen here. And I’ll bet you can’t play it just once. (Ahem, it’s a bit addicting.)
Share your favorite bad song for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card! (“Bad” is all in the eye of the beholder—my daughter can’t understand why I detest Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph”!)
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. I find it puts too much pressure on me and I end up abandoning them before too long. Instead, I resolve to take little steps to make my life better each day.
Almost two years ago, I started doing a half hour of exercise at least five times a week and I’m still doing it. I’ve lost some weight but still have some to go. It’s progress and I’m a lot more limber than I used to be.
This year, I want to cut back my sugar consumption. I have a huge sweet tooth. We’ll see how it goes. I know I won’t cut out sweets totally, but my goal is to cut back. It’s doable without feeling like deprivation. That’s the key for me.
I’m also trying to get more organized and even bought a new desk planner and am looking forward to using it.
What kinds of things are you doing to change your life this year?
As a New Year’s gift my publisher is offering Drakon’s Promise for FREE for a very limited time. It will be available at most but not all e-retailers. If you haven’t tried out the first book in the Blood of the Drakon series, now is the time. Don’t delay or you’ll miss it.
Blood of the Drakon, Book 1
Darius Varkas is a drakon. He’s neither human nor dragon.
He’s both.
He’s also the target of an ancient order who want to capture all drakons for their blood. When fresh, a drakon’s blood can cure any illness and prolong a human’s life, and the Knights will stop at nothing to get it.
When librarian Sarah Anderson stumbles across a rare book belonging to the Knights of the Dragon, she’s quickly thrust into a dangerous world of secrets and shifters and things she never would have believed possible. When the Knights realize Sarah has a secret of her own, she becomes just as much a target as Darius. Her scary dragon shifter just might be her best chance at survival.
N.J. Walters is a New York Times and USA Todaybestselling author who has always been a voracious reader, and now she spends her days writing novels of her own. Vampires, werewolves, dragons, time-travelers, seductive handymen, and next-door neighbors with smoldering good looks—all vie for her attention. It’s a tough life, but someone’s got to live it.
I’ve written romance for the last five years. In that time, I’ve read even more. From contemporary to paranormal I love multiple sub-genres. In that same amount of time, I’ve always loved action adventure movies, including sci-fi movies and shows. Imagine my surprise when my muse sent me an idea that would combine them both.
How many of you have been shut up with a kiss? I, for one, find this terribly romantic. Us women tend to rattle on when we’re nervous, and I like a take-charge kind of guy who grabs an opportunity to move forward. End our misery. Show us how much they adore us despite our tendency to leak words under pressure. Have I ever been shut up with a kiss? Yes. It was a first kiss and kind of sloppy. I was young, he was hot, and I didn’t mind the mess because I was too relieved that I didn’t have to find another subject to talk about. I guess my story isn’t the type we romance writers put in a book, but the concept makes my heart go pitter-patter. When I see it in the movies – *SWOON*!
