UPDATE: The winner is…Sandra Rodriquez!

* * * * *

Representation matters.  Seeing yourself and identifying with characters in media of all flavors is important. This is a really important topic and I could probably write volumes on how representation has intersected with my life and those of my loved ones, and academics break it down on a larger scale. But today I’m going to focus on one small aspect of how my life and quest for representation has played out in my writing—interracial couples.

I’m a white woman married to an Indian-American man. As someone in an interracial marriage, I want to see couples like mine hooking up in romances. As a writer, I can make that happen. Capturing the Moment is my sixth story with an interracial couple, five of which feature a character who is Indian-American.

As a white woman, my representations of non-white characters are always going to be flawed. Despite being part of my husband’s family for a decade, a mother to two multiracial children, and a friend of persons of color, I have no live experience to inform my writing. I need to be very careful in my choices when writing non-white characters.

When writing Arjun, my male lead in Capturing the Moment, I made a deliberate choice to make him Indian-American. The experience of being Indian-American is very different than that of a person growing up in India (which is not to imply that there is a monolithic experience of growing up in India). Friends and family members have a wide variety of experience as to whether or not they speak any of the twenty-three official languages of India, eat Indian food, watch Bollywood films, like Indian clothes, and so forth. Arjun has an Indian first name and an Americanized nickname. He speak Punjabi. He has strong ties to his family, which is very important culturally. That said, by virtue of growing up in the US he has the same cultural touchstones as Meg, myself, my husband and friends, and so forth. In other words, I had more wiggle room to create an authentic character.

My beta reading team also includes several Indian Americans, and my primary beta reader is my husband. Whether on this story or others, they have helped me improve with each piece. A beta sent me an article (https://writingwithcolor.tumblr.com/post/95955707903/skin-writing-with-color-has-received-several)  discussing why using food words like “chocolate-colored eyes” can be seen as offensive, and I have tried to ensure that I no longer do that (or fix it in edits). I once had a character speak in Hindi, and it was just awkward. In retrospect, a friend was right, and I was doing it to make them seem more “Indian.” They aren’t afraid to call me out and educate me, and I don’t give them white tears over it, although I have to sometimes make difficult choices because they have different opinions (for example, my husband has no issue with the food allegories, but I still chose to omit them). I even asked a friend to look over this blog post!

I was more nervous about writing Darany, the Cambodian tuk tuk driver, than I was about writing RJ. I erred on the side of Darany having stronger English skills than my drivers in Cambodia. Using dialects can reinforce racial stereotypes, even if that isn’t the intent of the author. I kept him in the background, in part, because he isn’t central to the story—I wasn’t writing a triad, and, in part, because one long weekend in Cambodia means I have no understanding of his culture beyond what my conversations with my drivers taught me. Not including him would be inauthentic as well—writing a story in a setting without including anyone from that culture, as well as ignoring that tuk tuks are the means of transportation for tourists.

That said, reading my stories isn’t a substitute for reading the work of actual authors of color.  If you want to read truly authentic Indian American characters, I highly recommend the Serving Pleasure series by Alisha Rai. (https://alisharai.net/) Other authors of color I recommend are Beverly Jenkins (https://beverlyjenkins.net/), K. A. Smith (https://authorka.wordpress.com/), Cathy Yardley (https://cathyyardley.com/about-2), Rebekah Weatherspoon (https://www.rebekahweatherspoon.com/blog/), Milly Taiden (https://millytaiden.com/), and K.M. Jackson (https://www.kmjackson.com/). You can also check out #weneeddiverseromance on Twitter (https://twitter.com/hashtag/weneeddiverseromance)

Exclusive Excerpt (set in Preah Khan, the temple pictured above)

It was a ten-minute walk down a jungle lane to the entrance of Preah Khan. The only sound was birdsong and the whisper of wind in the leaves overhead. If there hadn’t been scaffolding on the exterior walls, it would be easy to imagine they were the first to rediscover the temple.

“I feel like Indiana Jones,” RJ said.

“I know what you mean.” Meg smiled. “Although, I wouldn’t trust you with a whip. Instead of the Holy Grail, you’d discover the nearest emergency room.” She pulled a guidebook out of the backpack he was carrying and opened to the appropriate page. “Luckily, I have a map. It looks like a big complex. If we follow the central path from this entrance, it’s a straight shot through. We can explore a little on either side and not lose the path.”

RJ blocked her view of the guidebook with his hand. “Don’t be so practical. What does Impulsive Tattoo Meg think?”

“Impulsive Tattoo Meg doesn’t want to spend the day lost, either.” She put the book away.

“Killjoy.”

“Ground Rule Number Four, Arjun. My game plan is law,” she said smugly.

“Given that Rule Number One has been tossed out the window, doesn’t that make it Rule Number Three?” He gave her a light smack on the butt, then stepped out of her reach. Meg had been known to retaliate.

She shook her head in amusement and lifted her camera. She aimed at him instead of the temple and pressed the shutter release.

“What was that for?” he asked, surprised.

“I want to remember you like this, here,” she said, reviewing the picture.

“When do I get to take a picture of you?” Not that he hadn’t been sneaking pictures all morning.

“What’s stopping you?”

He ran a finger along the neckline of her T-shirt. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Her eyes widened. “That’s not going to happen. No nude photos of me can be the new Rule Number One.”

You never forget your first love…

Meg and RJ were passionately in love. But that was six years and a broken engagement ago.

Meg has only one day in Siem Reap, Cambodia, before she must leave for her sister’s wedding in Bali. She fulfills her dream of taking a photograph of the sun rising behind Angkor Wat, one of the oldest temples in the world. But her joy is short-lived when she turns around to see RJ standing behind her.

RJ threw himself into work after Meg ended their relationship. He’s built a successful business, but it’s a hollow victory. He’s come to Siem Reap to win back the woman he’s never stopped loving. But first he has to convince her to spend the day with him.

Meg is as physically attracted to RJ as she ever was. Maybe the secret to finally getting over him is a one day only, no strings attached fling.

Can RJ win Meg back, or will she love him and leave him?

Capturing the Moment is now available everywhere!

• Amazon kindle https://www.amazon.com/Capturing-Moment-Sexy-Delilah-Night-ebook/dp/B01D1LT2VM/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1458900787&sr=8-1&keywords=9781786510204
• iBooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/capturing-the-moment/id1093426579?mt=11
• Google Books https://books.google.com.sg/books?id=eZC_CwAAQBAJ&pg=PT4&lpg=PT4&dq=capturing+the+moment+delilah+night&source=bl&ots=RXN8VpLCtY&sig=ShhNkhSpQsV2ohKfuae68ffkyn4&hl=en&sa=X&redir_esc=y#v=onepage&q=capturing%20the%20moment%20delilah%20night&f=false
• Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/capturing-the-moment
• Nook https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/capturing-the-moment-delilah-night/1123563542?ean=9781786510204

• Totally Bound (https://www.totallybound.com/book/capturing-the-moment)

About the Author

After 30 years of snowy New England winters, Delilah Night moved to steamy southeast Asia. While she doesn’t miss shovelling snow, she does miss shopping for bargains at Target.

In 2014, Delilah visited Cambodia for the first time and fell in love with Siem Reap. Many of her misadventures from that vacation (including the one with the monkey) made their way into this story.

Connect with Delilah on her blog (delilahnight.com), Twitter (https://twitter.com/Delilah_Night), or Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/DelilahNight?ref=hl&ref_type=bookmark)

Contest

Contest—Win a free copy of Capturing the Moment!

Who is your favorite author of color, of any genre?
Don’t forget to leave your email.

This week’s Hell Week. I have my head down, my butt in the chair, while I work on several things at the same time: 1)edits for another author, 2) edits on my upcoming collection, Rogues, 3) completion of my next Stepbrothers Stepping Out story… Yeah, that’s coming this week. Who is the heroine and her stepbrother going to play with this time? Hint: Love playing doctor? Yeah…I’m having so much fun with that one. Next week, I’ll be back on my hunky Navy SEAL…

So, not a lot of time for chit-chat. And of course, I can’t just sit at my desk and do the work. I have to babysit, have an art guild meeting and dinner with friends, have to spend a day at the car dealership in Little Rock getting my car fixed. It’s times like now I wish I could clone myself and set each of my doppelgangers on a separate task. How cool would that be? I would need five.

1. Writer me (The Hermit)
2. Editor me
3. Nina me to watch the kids
4. Artist me who loves to putter in her art room & hang with her artist friends
5. Cleaning lady me

So, for a chance to win of my Stepbrothers stories, just to get in the mood for the next release, tell me this:

How many yous do you need? And what will be their roles?

Hi, everyone!  It’s lovely to be back, and I want to send a huge thank-you to Delilah for letting me return.

I’ve been thinking about family in story lately, mostly because I’m working on the third book in a tiger shifter series, and so far two of the heroes and one of the heroines are siblings, and I think another brother may get a story one of these days.

Family is a lovely way to tie a series of stories together, isn’t it?  As readers, we meet  parts of the hero or heroine’s family during their story, and we sometimes fall in love with them along the way and want to spend more time with them, too.  Luckily, we get to do that with some of our favorites.  One of my very favorite family series is an old Nora Roberts series, her ‘Stanislaskis’—I think Luring a Lady  was one of the very first things I read by her, and I was totally hooked, moving on to her ‘Donovans’, and then on and on.  Meeting siblings or cousins gives us extra insight into the hero or heroine, doesn’t it?  How do they interact with the people close to them, versus someone they don’t know as well?  Who do they confide in?  What issues do they still carry with them from growing up in their family?

And in some cases, we get glimpses into those siblings’ or cousins’ lives that make us want to see them work through their own issues and find a happy ending, too.  In my “Medusa” trilogy, I have three cousins, which was fun in its own way—lots of us have cousins we spent time a lot of time with as children, but maybe as adults, we’re too far apart distance-wise to do that as often as we would like.

Some of us have siblings we don’t get to see as much as we like because they live in different parts of the country, or even in a different part of the world.  My sister (whose birthday is today! Happy birthday!) lives five states away, and we aren’t able to see each other very frequently.  But that relationship is interesting and complicated, as sibling relationships often are.  My tiger siblings still live mostly in the same area, but they have some things in their past that have shaped the adults that they are now.

I could make a very long list of series I love with family stories, but that would go on for days, and I’m pretty sure Delilah has other guests on her schedule, so I’ll refrain.  But I would like to know what some of your favorite family romance series are.  I’ve got a trade paperback copy of the first book in my “Medusa” series to give away—everyone who answers the question by 5 p.m. EST on Wednesday, April 27, 2016 will have their name entered in a drawing (via RandomResult.com) for the book.  Now, I’m going to get back to work on my hot tiger shifter—he’s a little cranky right now because his pregnant mate doesn’t take orders well.  Silly tiger.

Hunting Medusa

The Medusa Trilogy, Book 1

When Kallan Tassos tracks down the current Medusa, he expects to find a monster. Instead he finds a wary, beautiful woman, shielded by a complicated web of spells that foils his plans for a quick kill and retrieval of her protective amulet.

Andrea Rosakis expects the handsome Harvester to go for the kill. Instead, his attempt to take the amulet imprinted on her skin without harming her takes her completely by surprise. And ends with the two of them in a magical bind—together. But Kallan isn’t the only Harvester on Andi’s trail…

Hunting Medusa:  https://tinyurl.com/jdwqjb5

About the Author

Elizabeth Andrews has been a book lover since she was old enough to read.  She read her copies of Little Women and the Little House series so many times, the books fell apart.  As an adult, her book habit continues.  She has a room overflowing with her literary collection right now, and still more spreading into other rooms.  Almost as long as she’s been reading great stories, she’s been attempting to write her own.  Thanks to a fifth grade teacher who started the class on creative writing, Elizabeth went from writing creative sentences to short stories and eventually full-length novels.  Her father saved her poor, callused fingers from permanent damage when he brought home a used typewriter for her.

Elizabeth found her mother’s stash of romance novels as a teenager, and-though she loves horror- romance became her very favorite genre, making writing romances a natural progression.  There are more than just a few manuscripts, however, tucked away in a filing cabinet that will never see the light of day.

Along with her enormous book stash, Elizabeth lives with her husband of  twenty-two years and two young adult sons, though no one else in the house reads nearly as much as she does.  When she’s not at work or buried in books or writing, there is a garden outside full of herbs, flowers and vegetables that requires occasional attention.  You can visit her at www.ElizabethAndrewsWrites.com

I’m in writing mode. Head down. Fingers cramping as they tap the keyboard. I’ll come up for air sometime this weekend when I finish the story I’m working on. In the meantime, here’s a little vampire fun. From the pic below, you know there are several stories in this series. I’ll be writing another very, very soon. If you haven’t already read all of them, catch up! 🙂

And to help you do that, here’s your chance to win a free copy of one of the stories! Let me know if you’ve read any of the Night Fall series, and if you have, who is your favorite character? A “no” answer is just fine, and just as valid an entry as a name, because I will be using a random number generator… So get set, ready…go!

Comment for a chance to win one of these stories!

Knight in Transition

“Vampires, werewolves, and babies — oh, my! [Knight in Transition] is a sensual and thrilling ride into the world of the paranormal.” ~ Romance Reviews Today

“Ms. Devlin knows how to use her words to draw you into her story. She has created characters that are easy to fall in love with. When you combine her excellent characters with the great plot, this story becomes a must read.” ~ 5 Angels, Fallen Angel Reviews

A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia’s life is turned upside down when he’s transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, Joe’s search brings him to New Orleans in a last ditch effort to recover his humanity.

Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a condition of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she’s thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.

Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe’s cop instincts tell him there’s a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask.

While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily’s life is forever altered by an unexpected inheritance.

It had taken Joe half an hour and a quarter pint of blood to find her apartment in the long, white two-story stucco building in the center of the French Quarter. The super led him straight to the door, then walked off, his eyes glazed under the influence of Joe’s suggestion he give his wife a tumble.

It took another half an hour to feed from the man who lived in the apartment next to the professor’s until he slept, just so Joe could climb out on his ironwork balcony and make the leap to hers.

Finally, he stood hidden in the shadows while he watched her through lacy curtains. Her French doors were opened to the sultry night air. With only light from the streetlamp outside to chase away the darkness, Joe could discern every detail of her bedroom. She lay not five feet from him atop pale pink sheets. Naked. Her knees bent; her creamy thighs splayed. So close he could smell her ripening scent.

She was pleasuring herself.

Joe’s cock stirred and unfurled, lengthening by the second as he watched her.

A fan pulsed from the ceiling above her, lifting the gold-brown hair curving over her breasts to tangle with the fingers tugging at her nipples. When her hands moved down her rounded belly, his gaze clung hungrily to the turgid points surrounded by their pale rose circles. His mouth watered, imagining the velvet-soft flesh surrendering to his kisses. Succulent morsels yielding the sweetest gift—her blood from the heart of her femininity.

She truly sealed her fate when one hand glided past the fur at her mons to cup her sex. Joe’s cock pressed insistently against his jeans, tightening when her fingers stroked between her outer labia to caress the thin folds within. Moisture glistened as she rubbed it over her lips, long sliding strokes that dipped inside and swirled outward.

Then her other hand entered the play, and her fingers parted the swollen labia, pulling them back to expose her engorged clitoris. She touched the shiny nub once and shivered as though the spot were too sensitive, and then her fingers glided away.

She circled the mouth of her vagina, dipping her fingertips into the well and spreading her moisture. Liquid seeped to coat her hand, and she brought her fingers to her mouth and licked the tips clean. Soft appreciative groans broke from her throat.

Joe sweated. He’d never seen a woman enjoy her own essence like this one. His body was gripped with the need to shove his cock deep inside her juice-filled channel.

Instead, he braced an arm against the window casing and his other hand went to the hard bulge at the front of his jeans. Desperate to take the edge off his need, he flicked open the button on his waistband and eased the zipper down, shoving his briefs beneath his balls, enjoying the way the elastic constricted. His hot flesh escaped its prison, filling his hand. He encircled his shaft and stroked it, letting urgency fill his loins as he watched her.

Her hand slid beneath her pillow and pulled out a long, flesh-tone object that she caressed like a man’s cock. She sucked the head of the dildo, wetting it with her spit while she closed her eyes. Did she imagine a man shafting into her mouth?

Joe did. His cock pulsed and a pearl of pre-come beaded at the tiny opening atop the crown of his sex. He rubbed the moisture around the tip with his thumb.

She fingered the base of her symmetrical shaft and it hummed, just like his body, triggered by her sexy moan at the first touch of her vibrator to the tips of her breasts. Her mouth opened around a gasp.

Joe’s breath drew in sharply, imagining her taking his cock into her mouth. He squeezed himself, gliding the skin stretched tight as a rubber band over his cock, back and forth, faster.

She circled the dildo on one tit while her free hand massaged the other, the nipple winking between her fingertips. Then she placed it between her generous breasts and squeezed them around the dildo as her body writhed on the bed, her hips lifting, pulsing in the air.

Joe’s hips answered, pushing his cock through his clenched fist, faster now, building heat and friction. He dropped spit onto his shaft and worked it with his fist, gliding easily, imagining the woman’s undulating body convulsing along his cock.

Abruptly, the woman rolled onto her stomach and came to her knees, planting them wide apart on the bed, letting her chest fall to the mattress. Reaching between her legs, she spread her lips and coaxed the vibrator into her pussy, working it inside her, inch by inch, twisting it in her cream to lubricate its length and push deeper.

Joe’s grip nearly strangled his cock. The sight of her pale cheeks quivering in the air, the dildo clutched in her fist pumping in and out, pushed him over the edge. He felt the pressure build in his balls.

Her chest rubbed on the sheets and her hips circled on her hand-held cock, until she cried out and shoved the dildo deep, cramming it inside as far as it could reach with the flat of her palm. She moaned and bucked; her soft whimpers carried on the air. When the pulsing of her hips stopped, she sobbed and fell to the blanket, turning to her back, her legs askew, her hair a tangled cloud on her pillow.

Looking at her quivering belly and the dildo that peeked from inside her body, Joe groaned and spent his seed in a hot stream on the floor of her balcony.

Too late, he realized he’d cried aloud.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of sharing the lovely Delilah Devlin’s spectacular and saucy blog. Thank you for having me back, DD and fans! I do so love the company. So much so, I brought presents!!

What have you all been up to? Seriously, tell me in the comments.

Oh, what about me?

I’ve been caring for my hottie husband. This pic was taken on our last big hiking adventure before he had ACL reconstruction and meniscus surgery last week. It sounds awful. It’s had its moments, but when you can cry (me) and laugh (him) through the hard stuff you know you’re with the right one. Your one.

Every now and again, I find myself a bit jaded with the always Happy Ever After of romance. Some times people don’t get a HEA. What about those people? Are their stories not worth telling? Why do I always write a HEA?

One day, I might take a jaunt away from romance. But during times like these I’m reminded that love stories aren’t all the same. The roads to those HEAs differ widely. That thought has reignited my passion for unique stores with winding paths, shocking valleys and sudden peaks. Stories similar to the first two I wrote not too many years ago. Where friends become enemies and enemies become lovers in Enemy Mine. Where a heinous injustice paves the way for love and retribution in Justice Mine.

I did mention I bring presents…

Enemy Mine is FREE on all outlets!! Also, Enemy Mine & Justice Mine (plus another surprise book) are FREE to those who sign up for my newsletter at www.meganmitcham.com!! I promise no spamming. Who has time for that? Not us.

Click on Banner

Thanks for hanging out with me! I look forward to catching up in the comments.

All the best,

—

Megan Mitcham
USA Today Bestselling Author
Sizzling Suspense – Are you sizzling yet?

UPDATE: The winner is…Colleen C!

* * * * *

I’m awake. Sitting at my desk and blinking bleary-eyed at my computer screen. One morning soon, I have to let myself sleep in…

Today, I’m not writing. I’m heading to Little Rock to the Arkansas Art Center, all the kids in tow (yikes!), to see their current exhibits. I’m most excited about the one entitled, “Dorothea Lange’s America”. You may have seen this picture when you studied American History and the Great Depression. She was a Depression-era photographer. This one, called Migrant Mother, has always haunted me.

Anyway, be thinking of me today, walking through a quiet museum with my daughter and her kids, aged 12, 11, 7, and 2. Yeah, I’ll be frazzled trying to keep them from running around and climbing on things. And I’ll probably be hearing  “I’m bored” a million times—but they are going to suffer through it anyway! Someday, they will appreciate it!

Anyway, since I’m trying to get ready, this post will actually be short! All I have is a question. Okay, with a bit of a setup.

I belong to an art guild. And they are just a tad snobby about what they consider art. For sure, they consider my painted dominoes craft rather than art. When one of the group decided to add a photography contest to our annual calendar, I could almost hear what was going on behind their raised brows: Photography isn’t a “real art”. Well, until you see a photograph like the one above, you might believe that. Some folks think quilting isn’t an art (I do, especially when you see one with stunning colors or patterns).

So, what do you think?

Is photography an art or a skill? Is quilting, felting, card-making, etc., a craft or “real” art? And if you think it’s possible to raise it to the standard of “real” art, what do you think it takes?

Answer and be entered to win a $5 Amazon gift card!

TRIP UPDATE: The kids were awful in the car going to Little Rock, so we didn’t dare try taking them all to the museum. Instead, we took them to see Zootopia. Next weekend, we’ll have fewer kids underfoot. THEN, we’ll go see Ms. Lange’s exhibit!