UPDATE: The winner is… Daun Ann Korty!
*~*~*

On Tuesday, a brand new “collection” arrives! Have you pre-ordered your copy? It’s 72,000 words of sexy goodness—all centered around COWBOYS—and it’s just $0.99!!! The authors are eager to share their stories, and we have some fun planned for the release. There will be contests; authors will be sharing snippets from their stories; and did I say contests? Where? Over at my Collections website. Go check it out now! While you’re there, be sure to subscribe to the blog so you don’t miss out on any of the fun!

Contest

You can check out the first five of my Boys Behaving Badly collections by clicking on the covers. And yes, they are all just $0.99—not because they’re not worth the full price, but because the authors of these stories want as many people as possible to devour their stories! They’re a great deal and great way to find new-to-you authors!

Comment for a chance to win the download of your choice of
one these anthologies!  There will be three winners!

  

 

UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen C, Pamela Reveal, Debbie Caswell, Bn100, and Cheryl!
*~*~*

I won’t actually do any counting here, because that’s too much like math and, well… ew. But over the past few years, I’ve come to love the concept of anthologies.

Firstly, I get a try out new-to-me authors. Yes, this can also be accomplished by buying random books from random authors, but this tactic is a tad inefficient. And if I’ve spent hard-earned money on a whole book that turns out to be poorly written, poorly edited, or just plain unsatisfying, it’s like biting into a chocolate chip cookie only to realize it’s oatmeal raisin.

But a whole selection of authors and voices in one purchase? That’s a buffet! A smorgasbord! A feast, and I’m sure to find at least one (usually several) author whose voice I now love and can’t wait to read more of!

Secondly, short stories rock. I still love thick books with massive world-building that transports me across the universe or deep into a secret world within the world I already know and takes my mind and heart on an operatic-level journey toward an epic conclusion. A full 7-course meal with all the pomp and circumstance in presentation, complete with three different forks, two spoons, and weird clamp-type utensils for the escargot.

But there’s something to be said for peeling back everything but the most essential, impactful details and getting right to the heart of the story. Skipping all the minutia and going straight for dessert. Getting my money shot and my Happily-Ever-After and my hand-to-my-heart-deep-sigh-of-satisfaction… while waiting to pick a kiddo up from whatever practice they have today.

Lastly, there’s the price. I could achieve all of the above without buying an anthology… and spend a fortune doing it. Ooooor, I can dip my toe in the waters of an anthology for a lot less financial outlay. The greater the price of a book (or ebook), the greater my expectations. And therefore, the greater my disappointment if it’s not awesome.

Buuuuut, a quality book from a sure source that only costs 99-cents? OMG take my money and keep the change!!

And funny that I should be extolling the benefits of anthologies… because Delilah’s latest Boys Behaving Badly Anthology is going live October 12^th. The Cowboys edition has everything you’d want in an anthology: great authors, rocking short stories, a can’t-pass-up-price, smokin’ hot cowboy heroes that will set your naughty bits aflame, and heroines you’ll feel in your heart because you’ve been them at some point in your life. I’m thrilled to be part of this year’s anthology, and (squee!!) have read most of the other stories… trust me, they are ah-mazing!!

GIVEAWAY

Please comment with something anthology-related (your favorite, a fun experience, why you like them, etc.), and I’ll randomly pick five winners to receive an Amazon pre-order of the upcoming Cowboys anthology.

An excerpt from “Solar Flare” in Cowboys by Ava Cuvay

Planet Crysceous, Iona Quadrant

“Dad, the Coronal Mass Ejection will reach us tomorrow. Have you hired the replacements to herd—” Solarne Vacca jerked to a halt halfway into her father’s office, her attention snagged by the three strangers standing there. Specifically, the tall drink of aqua at the front, one hip cocked and his arms crossed at his chest, far enough from the blaster strapped to his thigh to appear non-threatening.

One glance at his sharpshooter’s face was enough to know his relaxed manner was an act.

Her heart hammered in her throat. She’d seen this man on the “Wanted” holo-vids posted around this system, sporting a list of violent offenses. He was even more striking in person, lounging with all the self-assurance of a king. Nearly two meters tall, with a head of bedroom-mussed hair as dark as a starless night, eyes the color of a cloudy day, and a body built for sin. She wouldn’t be a woman if the view didn’t steal her breath and shoot heat straight to her core with laser-point accuracy. But she was also CEO in charge of her family’s sprawling crehdisth worm ranch. This was her kingdom. And this man’s visit was a threat.

He was not here for a casual social call. He was a hired gun.

UPDATE: The winner is…Jolene Durante!
*~*~*

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, let me know who this weekend’s book boyfriend will be! 

If you haven’t already chosen your boyfriend, here’s a suggestion. He’s the ultimate bad boy… 🙂

If you’re looking for something to read this weekend, I have a suggestion. Pick up a Night Fall story! There are 13 books in the series! Each story is unique. Each hero and heroine is unique. I worked hard to give each character their own story with their own issues and adventures.

If you’d like a taste of one of the stories, here’s Bad to the Bone, which features Viper, who more than lives up to the title of the book!

Get your copy today!

Excerpt from Bad to the Bone

One week ago…

Slim hips swished beneath a short, flirty skirt, drawing his gaze like iron filings to a magnet. The splash of large pink flowers on white stood out like a beacon in the darkness. Beneath the hem stretched a pair of nude legs, toned, and nicely curved at the ankles. Perfectly made to lightly clasp a man’s waist as he slid into moist heat…

He suppressed a low, rumbling growl from the beast rising inside. Something he rarely bothered to do in the squalid dens he roamed most nights. The creature lurking deep within was a sexual animal, a lustful, ravenous host who found partners only too willing to let him feast. But this woman was different. Her soul was pure. Her mind unawakened to the darkness.

He followed her as she left her apartment, sticking to the shadows, ducking into stairwells when she looked behind her as though checking whether someone followed. A frown marred her smooth brow, and her lips tightened. The clip of her heels on the pavement quickened.

Shoulder-length, flyaway brown hair bobbed across the tops of slender shoulders. The creamy skin of her exposed arms and legs swung in a rhythm that his heart picked up and matched, beat for stride.

Feeling more than ever like the true predator he was, he tamped down the shame that burned like battery acid in his stomach and continued stalking the woman who walked more briskly now along the darkened sidewalk.

When she turned onto a crowded walkway, her shoulders sank and her footsteps slowed as she relaxed.

Now, as she mingled with others strolling along the promenade, she believed herself safe. Little did she know, but her “spontaneous” decision to leave her apartment had been at his suggestion—a message telegraphed with tantalizing snippets of the smell of fresh salt air, the caress of a soft breeze, and a glimpse of sensual pleasure.

She hadn’t heeded her own natural inhibition. Hadn’t paused to check the clock and note the waning evening hours. Instead, she’d made her decision, wriggled into a sexy little skirt and snug pink tee, slid her feet into strapless sandals and bounded down the stairs, ready to kick off winter’s gloom in an unseasonably warm spring night.

He’d made sure she didn’t glance even once at the calendar resting on the bureau in her foyer. Nothing would trigger a fleeting memory. And while he’d provided himself the opportunity to see her, he’d decided days ago he wouldn’t use his persuasive gifts to bring her straight into his arms.

Tonight, he wanted to savor a natural seduction.

She paused along the gangway that followed the curving street through a long, outdoor strip mall. At the bottom of one set of stairs leading into a seafood restaurant, she lifted one foot, planting it on the first paved step.

As he drew back the suggestion that had led her here, her brow furrowed, and she shook her head. Her foot slipped off the step and slowly settled beside the other.

In a blur of movement no human would detect, he slid in behind her. “Did you forget something?” he murmured, careful to keep his tone innocently inquiring.

A gasp escaped, and her head jerked to the side then tilted up to meet his gaze. Her eyes widened, and then slid over his shoulders before rising again. “You frightened me.”

The deepening frown that bisected her brow amused him. She was annoyed and not bothering to hide it. Her eyes narrowed. “I know who you are.”

Viper jerked imperceptibly. His heart tripped, and then thudded dully again. She couldn’t mean what he thought. “I doubt that. If we’d met, I would have remembered,” he lied, giving her a rueful twist of his lips. More of a smile than most ever saw.

Her head shook, sending her fine, dark hair shivering silkily across her cheeks.

The urge to tuck her hair behind her ears was almost irresistible. He curled his fingers and stuffed both hands into the pockets of his faded jeans. “Who do you think I am?”

Gaze narrowing, she hesitated. “I’ve seen you before. At a club near the water. You’re the manager.”

Viper suppressed a grin, relieved her clouded mind hadn’t jumped to the right conclusion. She was talking about Dylan’s club. “I’m just filling in for a friend at The Cavern until he returns home. I have no ambition to run his place permanently.”

“The Cavern.” She nodded. “That’s the one. It’s a strange place. I did a piece there about the rise of Sanguinarian blood rituals. A whole subculture devoted to the practice exists, and most of them in this area hang out at your friend’s place.”

“You’re a writer then? Or are you a television reporter?” he asked, knowing full well she wrote a column for the social section of the Seattle Times.

Her casual shrug belied the fact she was serious about her work. Ambitious even. Or at least she had been. The social section wouldn’t encompass her ambition for much longer. A worrisome thought. However, he’d always loved that about her. She kept her eyes on the prize and rushed headlong wherever her curiosity and drive led. An excellent quality for a reporter, but one that had spelled disaster for him.

But then, she didn’t remember any of it. She hadn’t retained that lesson, because he’d needed her to remain safe.

“You know, they have a dress code here,” she murmured, eyeing his black leather jacket and T-shirt, and then sliding her glance quickly down his legs before rising again. A faint blush tinged her pale cheeks.

Viper’s eyelids dipped. “I’m not planning on going inside. I was waiting for someone.”

“Lucky girl,” she said softly, then shook her head again. “I don’t really have a reservation or anything, and I’m not dressed for it either. I’m not really sure why I stopped…”

His glance panned the line of people waiting patiently for their names to be called by the restaurant hostess who roamed outside, jotting on a clipboard. “Doesn’t look like my friend is planning to show. Would you like to go somewhere else?” he said quickly, not wanting her to decide to return home before he had a chance to chat her up and build a little trust and interest.

Time stretched between them. Her gaze flitted down the row of well-lit shops, still open with people walking leisurely along the covered walkway. A soft evening mist muted the glare of the streetlamps, as well as the sounds of the people passing them by as they stood at the bottom of the steps leading into the trendy restaurant.

“I promise I don’t bite,” he added, fighting the urgency building in his body to keep his words light and casual. “We can just take a walk. Find a cup of coffee, if you like.” He wanted her to say yes without any of his extra “persuasion.” Wanted her to choose him of her own free will.

A long indrawn breath lifted her chest, and she gave him a small, tentative smile. “A Starbucks is at the end of the strip.”

Warmth seeped into his chest. And although he knew tomorrow he’d pay a heavy price, he needed this night with her, whether it ended in her bed, as he hoped, or not. Simply standing this close, feeling the warmth of her body and breathing in her fresh, sweet scent flooded him with joy.

UPDATE: The winners are…Terra Oenning, Alison Rush, and Tabitha Parrish!
*~*~*

I love writing short stories. I used to submit short stories to publishers all the time because writing short, getting to The End quickly, gave me a rush. Writing short also gives me a chance to try new things out without a lot of risks. I “graduated” to editing and publishing my own collections of short stories because I love the process of seeking stories from talented officers, making choices regarding which stories work together, editing every precious word, and then sending the book out into the world for readers to enjoy. I’m working on volume #6 of my Boys Behaving Badly Anthologies right now—Cowboys—that I think you’ll like. It releases on October 12th! The book is a big thick volume of shorties, and it’s dirt cheap—just $0.99. No excuses at all for anyone not to pick up a copy! Click on the cover of Cowboys to pre-order your copy now!

You can check out the first five by clicking on the covers. And yes, they are all just $0.99—not because they’re not worth full price, but because the authors of these stories want as many people as possible to devour their stories! They’re a great deal and great way to find new-to-you authors!

Contest

Comment for a chance to win the download of your choice of
one these anthologies!  There will be three winners!

Excerpt From “Bountiful Lust” inside Blue Collar…

Bulldog gave me the evil eye as we walked toward the small, clapboard house on the bad side of town. “Shit goes sideways,” he said, “you stand back and let me handle it.”

I offered him a non-committal nod. “Think Mrs. Holcomb will give you that much trouble?”

He snorted and skewered me with a narrow-eyed glare.

“Ooh,” I said in my best little-girl voice and gave an exaggerated shiver, hoping he’d trip over his big feet. Not that I had to pretend my reaction too much. Something about the big burly guy did it for me. His face was too manly to be handsome—square jaw, crooked nose, laser-sharp blue eyes. Thick, gold-brown hair dusted the collar of his jacket. His six-foot-four, heavily-muscled frame made me feel feminine and soft and all those other useless qualities I despised in “helpless” females. Go figure—the thought of those big, hard hands rasping over my skin made me tremble.

At Mrs. Holcomb’s door, I knocked.

No response.

I knocked again. Still nothing.

Bulldog stepped to the left and peered into the window. “Don’t think anyone’s home. And since this is his address of record…” He backed up and raised a booted foot.

“Really want to knock down her door?” I pulled my lock-pick kit from my back pocket and knelt in front of the knob. A couple of twists of my tools, and the lock snicked. I turned the knob and quickly moved away from the door, giving way to Bulldog as he grumbled something under his breath about smartass women and strode inside.

Bulldog’s big frame filled my view, so I was taken by surprise when he cussed and rushed toward a hallway.

A crash sounded in a distant room. Light from an open doorway in the back glared as he ran through it. I followed, watching as our target ran for the chain link fence and vaulted it.

Bulldog cussed again, placed a hand on the top of the fence, but when he swung over his big body, the thin metal running through the top caved, and he fell to the dirt.

I picked another spot farther down the fence, grabbed a post and swung over, landing on my booted feet and shooting down the alleyway.

Behind me, I heard grunts and more curses, and finally, “Dammit, Buttercup, wait for me!”

I wasn’t waiting for shit. Lenny moved fast for a big boy. He was almost at the end of the alley. If I didn’t catch him quickly, I’d lose sight of him, and we’d lose our paycheck. With my breaths coming fast and sweat trickling into my eyes, I sped up, reaching out with my fingertips to snatch a handful of his shirt. With the fabric in my fist, I drew back and swung him.

He went sideways, but he didn’t go down. He twisted out of my grasp and raised his fists, his eyes widening as he looked me up and down, an ugly sneer stretching across his equally ugly face.

He swung.

But I was ready, ducking beneath and coming up to drive my fists into his fat gut, then bouncing back to avoid the next wide swing.

When he didn’t connect, his swing carried him forward, and he turned.

I rocketed to his back and wrapped my arm around his throat, grasping my fist to keep my arm in place, as he staggered then went to his knees, his fingers scratching my arms before reaching backward to pull my hair.

But he didn’t get a hank. His body crashed forward, bringing me with him, because my arm was trapped beneath his thick neck.

Boots pounded the pavement then slowed.

“Buttercup, need a hand?”

I wheezed, trying to drag in a breath as his weight crushed me against the pavement. “Roll him so I can get back my arm.”

Lenny’s body rolled to his side.

Bulldog lowered his boot then bent to offer me a hand up. His gaze went to the thick scratches on my arms.

Blood ran in rivulets from the deep gouges.

“Goddammit.” Bulldog’s scowl was scary as he blew out a deep breath, and then reached behind his neck to pull his T-shirt over his head.

He tossed it at me.

All I could do was stare at the grayscale tattoos covering his shoulders and chest, disappearing into his jeans.

“Wrap this around your arm. You’re gonna bleed all over my truck.” Then he went down on one knee and locked cuffs around Lenny’s fat wrists. When he stood, he kicked the low-life in the ass.

After we’d dropped Lenny at the jail, Bulldog remained silent as we drove.

My arm stung like hell, so I was fine with the quiet for the first while.

His expression was so dark, I didn’t dare try to make small talk. When he missed the turnoff to the agency, I straightened and darted a glance his way. His narrowed gaze swung toward me, daring me to say a word. I sat back, my heart thudding hard inside my chest. Just how pissed was he?

UPDATE: The winners are…Colleen C, Elaine Howell, and Cheryl!
*~*~*

Depending on how long you’ve been reading me, you might not be aware of my naughty cowboy ménage series, Lone Star Lovers. All my sexiest fantasies are rolled up in those stories. Two cowboys, three cowboys, four… All that attention concentrated on one lucky girl… Heck, it’s not really fair, and there must be something in the water in Two Mule, Texas because there’s a whole lotta sharin’ goin’ on. 🙂

Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of my Lone Star Lovers books! 

Four Sworn

Sometimes it takes a cowboy, or maybe four, to unleash a woman’s wild child…

Being the pretty daughter of the town whore was reason enough to ensure Shauna Davies lived a circumspect life, stepping out of line only occasionally with her favorite cowboy, boyfriend Bo Crenshaw. But her untamed spirit is forcing her to make a new start in another place where no one knows her past — but not before she fulfills one last wicked fantasy…

Cowboy Bo Crenshaw has loved Shauna since they shared their first sexual adventures as teenagers, but he hasn’t found the way to show her he accepts the wild child she keeps hidden inside — at least, not until she confesses a long-held fantasy. Now Bo is determined to give her a send-off that will make her think twice about blowing out of town.

Hoping he’s found the key to unlocking her heart, he turns to the Kinzie brothers, his three closest friends, to provide her a single night of unrestrained passion.

Excerpt from Four Sworn…

Friday night, Shauna couldn’t get any closer to Bo unless she crawled inside him. She’d climbed into the cab of his pickup, slid all the way over the bench seat, and lifted his arm to snuggle against his side. She was hot and cold and scared, all at the same time.

Ever since he’d told her the Kinzies had agreed to share her, she’d second-guessed herself a million times. She’d even called Bo twice to tell him she wanted to cancel, that it was all a joke, but he hadn’t believed her either time. And here she was, pulling in front of the Kinzie ranch house, and her stomach was so taut she thought she might throw up.

The trip from her place in town to the ranch took only fifteen minutes, but she’d held her breath most of the way and felt winded.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Bo said, pulling her close and kissing her temple. He raised his arm over her head, put the truck into park, and killed the engine. Then he turned back to her, his moss-colored eyes crinkling at the corners with his strained smile. “You don’t like something, all you have to do is say so. If you want to change your mind, just head for the door. I won’t judge you.”

Shauna gripped one of his hands and squeezed it, glad of the darkening shadows that hopefully hid the blush heating her face. “I can’t believe this is gonna happen, and that you’re okay with it.”

His eyebrows lifted up and down in a quick, wicked waggle. “Why wouldn’t I be? You want it. I want you happy.”

“That’s what friends do, huh?” she said, lifting her chin in challenge. “Find a group of men willing to gangbang their girlfriend?”

His sigh seemed to come all the way from his toes. “It’s not gonna be like that, Shauna. I swear, it’s not gonna feel dirty.”

“How do you know? Are you a girl?”

His chin firmed. “You wannna leave? We can head to Shooters. I’m okay with that. We can drink ourselves shitfaced. I’ll see you home and tuck you in safe—and alone.”

Shauna glanced away, staring blindly at the sprawling white ranch house. “I’ve dreamed about this every night since you said they’d do it, you know. I dream that tomorrow I’m walking through Two Mule, but I’m naked, and everyone can see me.”

His arm snaked around her shoulders, and he hugged her close. “On my honor, baby, this is just between us. No gossip. Not a word or a sly look will follow you after this. I know you want this, but I know why you’re scared. That’s one thing you won’t have to worry about.”

She cocked her head to the side and gave him a slow smile. “Oh, yeah? So what will I have to worry about?”

His smile widened. “Walkin’ bowlegged for a week.”

Shauna couldn’t help it, she snorted. Laughter spilled out. When they’d both quieted, she lifted her mouth.

Bo didn’t have to be told what she needed. He gave her a quick chaste kiss. “Come on inside. The guys aren’t gonna jump you. We can talk first.” He reached for his door handle.

She reached for hers and opened her door. “This is embarrassing. I’m already imaginin’ them all naked. They won’t have a thing to be embarrassed about.”

“Neither will you.”

She slammed the door and met him around the front of the truck. “I’m too skinny. I’ve got no ass. And a sixth-grader has bigger boobs than me.”

“You’re slender. You’ve got the prettiest, softest skin, and your nipples are cherry-colored.” He thumbed one of her little berries through her shirt.

Her pussy clenched. “Okay, I can do this.”

Bo encircled her waist with both arms and pulled her into his chest. “Yes you can. I’ll be right there with you. I won’t let anything happen you don’t want.”

How could she tell him there wasn’t likely to be anything she wouldn’t want? She’d stored up a lifetime of sexual fantasies, never letting them loose because she hadn’t wanted to be seen as anything like her mother. Even with Bo she’d stuck to plain vanilla, shying away from anything too wild. She squared her shoulders.

Bo unwrapped himself from her and held out his hand. She took a deep breath and placed her trust in him. He’d never let her down. Never pushed her. He’d been the best friend a girl could have.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

When she stepped onto the porch stairs, the front door opened. Josh, the youngest of the Kinzie brothers strode out and clomped eagerly down the steps. He stood beside Bo and waited, staring her up and down.

“Be polite, Josh,” Bo said, his voice clipped.

“Can’t help it,” Josh said, eager as a puppy dog. “I’ve wanted to see you naked forever, Shauna Davies.”

Read the rest of this entry »

UPDATE: The winner is…Donna Antonio!
*~*~*

October 12th is fast approaching! Have you pre-ordered your copy of Cowboys? It’s going to be huge! 15 sexy stories by some familiar names and by authors you’ll want to get to know real quick! Did I mention it’s only $0.99?! Crazy, right? The point is, this is a book we want EVERYONE to read, because there’s literally something for everyone inside it.

Right now, you can only pre-order it on Amazon, but it will go wide soon. If you want to pre-order your copy now, here’s the link: COWBOYS

Cowboys: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology

Get ready to fall in love with sensual tales filled with the earthy scent of horses, cows, and crisp, clean sweat; the sight of sun-leathered skin and crow’s feet; the feel of work-hardened thighs and arms; and the sound of a deep-voiced drawl…

Inside Cowboys: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology, you’ll find the following stories by some of the hottest romance writers out there… 

Sweet Home Cowboy by Jamie K. Schmidt – A runaway bride returns home to visit her father in the hospital only to discover her jilted groom has taken control of the family’s ranch

Free Rein by Elle James – Former Delta, now rodeo security cowboy, rescues a barrel racer on a runaway horse, rekindling an old flame in the process

Eight Seconds by Margay Leah Justice – At the rodeo, sometimes all it takes is eight seconds to fall in love

Sweetgrass Summer by Reina Torres – A rock-steady rancher, determined to give his love a slow traditional courting, is surprised when she takes the reins

Cowboys & Zombies by Cindy Tanner – Nothing can keep me from my cup of coffee—not the threat of zombies or a double-shot of sexy cowboy…nothing venti-ed, nothing earned

Carry Me Home by Kelly Violet – Down on her luck, a city girl travels back to Kansas and the boy she left behind

East of the Rift by January George – A family tragedy reunites a lonely rancher with his estranged wife

Tying the Knot by Jennie Kew – A city girl, with a submissive streak a mile wide, falls fast for a dominant, dirty-talking cowboy

Second Chances by Megan Ryder – Overwhelmed trying to hold onto her dead husband’s ranch, a lonely widow turns to the one man she can’t have for a night of passion

The Patience of Unanswered Prayer by Michal Scott – Kidnapped and destined to be another victim of Reconstruction-era violence, a feisty shop owner is rescued by a trail boss whose dark secret might save them both

Something to Talk About by Izzy Archer – When a grad student takes a job as a nanny to two motherless children on a cutting horse ranch, she catches the eye of her sexy boss

The Scoundrel by Natasha Moore – A lonely widow finds her strength when she indulges her attraction to a weathered cowboy on his last night in town

Solar Flare by Ava Cuvay – An interplanetary rancher recruits hired guns to help herd her livestock and falls into the arms of their sexy leader

Hunk of Burning Love by Delilah Devlin – A woman accidentally sets her kitchen on fire while trying to catch the eye of a Texas firefighter

Thoroughbreds and Thermodynamics by Sukie Chapin – A nerdy vet weathers a snowstorm to help a hot-as-hell rancher deliver a breach foal; save a horse, ride a cowboy, indeed!

Pre-order your copy here!

Contests

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what themes you’d like to see for the next anthologies!

And for a second chance to win ANOTHER GIFT CARD, be sure to head over to my Collections website to read about what we’ll be doing in the runup to the release! Delilah’s Collections

UPDATE: The winner is…Pat!
*~*~*

“You don’t yell at a sleepwalker. He may fall and break his neck” is probably one of my favorite lines from Billy Wilder’s classic film, Sunset Boulevard. The main character Joe Gillis makes this observation of Norma Desmond, a faded silent screen star who has built a false reality about her circumstances. She believes she’s still famous and desired when the truth is she has been forgotten. I like this line because it poses me with a challenge: what do you do when you come up against a worldview that ignores reality? Joe lets Norma keep sleepwalking/living her lie. He doesn’t yell to wake her up until the end of the movie, but by then it’s too late.

I’m reviewing a historical fiction that depicts life in Atlanta, Georgia in the 1880s. The author brings in characters and storylines you don’t normally see in mainstream historical fiction: Jews as major characters, the mixed-race heritage reality of Southern society (look how long it took historians to own up to Thomas Jefferson fathering children by Sally Hemmings), and a historic African-American event. I applauded the story until I got to the last scene. The ending, while deservedly triumphal, rang hollow to me. Why? Because historically for every step forward in the African American struggle for equality there are always two steps back. Ending as it does the story gives the sleepwalker/feel-good impression that right always triumphs. To the author’s credit, she shares the actual facts of the strike at the back of the book. My review will encourage readers to read that timeline first. Another fictional account dealing with the same historical event shared how the larger society made sure that win was never a gain, but still ended hopefully by embracing the truth expressed by the late John Lewis: “Our struggle is not the struggle of a day or a week, a month or a year. It is the struggle of a lifetime.”

Are there times when you have to risk the sleepwalker breaking their neck? Yes. When sleepwalking reinforces stereotypes. In 1943’s Casablanca Ilsa Lund asks, “Who is the boy playing the piano?” She’s asking about Sam, a Black adult. How does someone supposedly from Eastern Europe know to call a Black man a boy? I’ve yet to find one review or commentary of Casablanca that notes this sleepwalker slight, i.e., it’s right and normal to call Black men boys. The Big Band hit, “Chattanooga Choo-Choo” written in 1941, displays the same attitude. Black men working as railroad porters were called boy. Many of these men were highly educated. None of them were boys.

As a historical romance writer, I’m grateful for folk who have yelled me awake when I’ve written something, albeit historically accurate, that reinforces disparaging or belittling sleepwalker attitudes. As a member of the human race, I’m thankful for groups like the NAACP and the ACLU that have been yelling people awake for years.

For a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card, answer this question: at the risk of a broken neck, if you’re sleepwalking would you want someone to yell and wake you up?

“Who Can Find A Virtuous Woman” featured in Falling Hard: A Passionate Ink erotic romance anthology

Losing her virginity is free-born Eve Richardson’s only hope of escape from marriage to an insufferable fundamentalist preacher. In need of a knight in shining armor, she finds a potential candidate in straightlaced Madison Dugger, the first of his family born outside of slavery. Madison does find Eve desirable and has wanted her for as long as he’s known her. But classism and internalized racism are barriers to love he finds unscalable so he balks at Eve’s request. Can she overcome his objections in time to enlist his aid in her deflowering, saving her from a life as a virtuous woman?

Excerpt from “Who Can Find A Virtuous Woman”

Reflecting on Mr. Richardson’s prejudices had put Madison in mind of a prejudice of his own. He never thought light-skinned girls were informed or intelligent enough to be attractive. Eve forced a reevaluation of his low opinion. She impressed him as she rattled off names, dates, and facts at the Bible study. She neither bragged about what she knew nor backed away if challenged. Her tone was self-possessed and forward-looking, as if her own name would make some fact and date famous. Or infamous.

He had liked that. Her directness challenged his society-approval-seeking ways. In her, he recognized an adventurous spirit akin to the one he kept hidden. He imagined himself as a couple with her. With her as his mate, he would be a bolder advocate for people of color. But given what had happened to Eve’s brother, Mr. Richardson might not want a firebrand for his daughter.

The early evening air had contained the warmth of the season. The nature of ice cream being what it was—well, accidents were bound to happen. Eve had seemed particularly accident-prone last night. A bit of caramel pumpkin ice cream had dribbled at the corner of her mouth. To capture it, her pretty pink tongue had lavished long, slow licks across her ripe curvy lips. Those long, slow licks had telegraphed a message to the pulsing bulge between his legs.

She’d unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse and fanned herself languidly. “My but it’s hot for Indian summer.” As her chest swelled upward, unrestrained thanks to the open buttons, Madison had swallowed hard at the glimpse of tempting golden-brown skin.

More ice cream had dripped onto an exposed spot of breast. She’d scraped up the spill with her middle finger then sucked on her fingertip like a baby nursing at its mother’s tit—all for his benefit. Of that, he was sure.

Madison had sighed. When he’d looked up, she was staring directly at him. He’d hoped his enjoyment of her cleavage hadn’t been detected. The smirk twisting her lips had dashed his hopes. He’d shuddered and glanced away. Being caught like Peeping Tom by this alluring, knowing vixen had stiffened his cock.

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