As a writer, refilling my muse is important, and I’ve found that walks in nature are amazing muse inspiration.
Surrounded by flowers, lush grass at the pond, the cool breeze through the trees in the woods, or the tang of salty air at the marsh, each journey is special.
With the birds migrating, it’s exciting as each day, I never know what I’m going to see.
During spring, birds are building nests, while other animals are tending to their young.
Nature is magical, and I’m continually in awe of the incredible wildlife that I see.
Each day as I step outside, I can’t wait to see what inspiration nature will offer my muse.
About the Author
A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothersseries have been translated into five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.
After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothersseries, The Oath Trilogy, and the first four books of The Forbidden Series, she’s thrilled with the release of book #5, Forbidden Realm.
Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.
Contest
***ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my guest blog post about, ‘Nature – Amazing Muse Inspiration,’ on Delilah’s blog between 20 May 2020 – 31 May 2020. The winner will receive a signed copy of His Woman.
As I’m an erotic/steamy romance writer, the title of my post can only refer to one thing: the Cone of Learning. Ha, ha. Made you look.
One long ago Easter from my childhood, I made a Sunday School craft that continues to have a lasting impression on me almost fifty-five years later. What I recall is the first part of the tri-fold craft showed Jesus’ body being laid in the tomb. The second part depicted the stone rolled into place. The third showed the tomb empty. I remember thinking “How was that possible?” Precisely the point of the lesson: it was a miracle. I remember being hit with a sense of wonder like a flashbulb going off. Why is it the recollection of that craft has the same impact on me now when I’m sixty-three years old as it did when I was seven or eight? The answer is the Cone of Learning.
I came across this concept when I trained Sunday School teachers. Developed in the 1960’s by Edgar Dale, the Cone of Learning posits these points: people generally remember 10% of what they read, 20% of what they hear, 30% of what they see, 50% of what they see and hear, 70% of what they say and write, 90% of what they perform. In other words, the deeper you go, the longer it lasts. As I think back on that Sunday school craft, I’m sure I heard the story being told while I colored and cut and pasted in the company of other children doing the same thing. I probably read or repeated bible verses, too. That simple little craft took me deep into the cone.
The Cone of Learning takes on new meaning for me now I’m a writer. As I revise and edit my stories I have to do all I can so the 10% my reader recalls is truly memorable. This is why we writers are encouraged to show don’t tell, to evoke as many of the senses and to get as deep into the character’s point of view as possible. Think about the stories that have stuck with you. Think about passages you read over and over again to relive some delicious thrill or surprise. Your senses were engaged by sensory-rich sentences and settings. Emotion coursed through you as the character’s thoughts and feelings became your own. These authors took you deep and impressed you in ways that guaranteed you’d remember the 10% of what you read long after you put the book down.
With this in mind, my goal is to write thrilling, evocative and emotionally satisfying stories, stories so striking that fifty-some odd years later, the 10% my readers recall will be as fresh and impactful as my recollection of that Easter Sunday School take-home craft.
“$5.00 Kiss of Life” from First Response
Trapped by the small-town conventions imposed on her, a pastor’s spinster daughter finds rescue in the town bad boy’s very public kiss…
Excerpt from “$5.00 Kiss of Life”
Loose lips sunk ships during the war, Bev. And still do. Only now the ships are voter registration drives and lawsuits and attempts at economic self-sufficiency. It’s not Nazi spies listening and betraying but law enforcement officers who first tip-off Klansmen and other night riding types then stand by as they target the Negro lawyers, teachers and ministers who educate and encourage the folk of color to claim their rights. It’s not Tokyo Rose undermining Negro pride and confidence but those among our own people who choose the safety of their present limitations to the risks of a future determined by the freedom of true independence. Loose lips sink ships, Bev…and they still do.
You’d expect the ones oppressing you to do all they could to keep you down. But for members of the race to sow envy and fear and suspicion so as to undermine efforts to uplift the race was most distressing.
And most familiar.
A good reputation was the battleship in need of protection where she lived. To keep it afloat peer pressure, tradition and societal expectation waged a constant battle against the loose lips of gossip and scorn and lies.
As the daughter of the town’s minister she’d experienced the looks and the whispers and the dressing downs that kept her in her place. The freedom garnered by her one small rebellion – becoming the town librarian rather than the dutiful wife of her father’s associate pastor – turned out to be as limiting as the choice she’d rejected.
While attending a writing retreat several years ago, Sir Stephan MacQuistan woke me up, told me that he was a Knights Templar, and demanded that I write his story. Stephan’s story turned out to be, Forbidden Legacy, where he meets the heroine, Katherine, and became the first of five books in The Forbidden Series.
I’ve loved writing each story in The Forbidden Series, the inspiration for each as unique as the characters. In Forbidden Knight, I had the vision of the heroine, Alesone, shooting an arrow a breath’s width before the hero, Sir Thomas, into a tree. The idea made me smile as I knew it’d take a strong heroine to do such an outrageous act, one that’d outrage the hero with her daring, but also leaving him, however much he wished otherwise, to admire her daring. At that moment, I knew I’d found the perfect inciting incident to brainstorm the remainder of the story.
The inspiration from Forbidden Vow came when after I gave a key note speech in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. As we were sitting around the dinner table, the wonderful couple I stayed with told me about how early in the 1900s, women would write to sailors. If the service member had a girlfriend or pen pal, he’d pass the letter to a sailor without either. I found that bit of information interesting, and then thought, what my hero comes across his friend who is mortally wounded, who is now, unknown to his former friend, an enemy, who is carrying a missive to a noble that he’s the man’s daughter’s betrothed. The hero realizes the man’s intended is Lady Gwendolyn, whose castle the hero is trying to infiltrate for information for King Robert Bruce in preparation for an upcoming attack. When his former friend dies, Sir Cailin takes the missive and pretends to be her betrothed with the intent that once he’s gained the necessary information about the stronghold, he will leave. The moment the idea came to mind, I knew it was the perfect base to begin brainstorming for Forbidden Vow.
I’m always trying to think of unique ways for the hero and heroine to meet. A thought came to mind while I was out walking, “What if the heroine, Elspet, robs the hero, Sir Cailin, then due to circumstance, is forced to return to the hero and convince him to help her in her goal?” And, the idea for Forbidden Alliance was born.
I loved writing The Forbidden Series. Each story means so much to me, so when it came time to write the last book, I wanted to ensure it was very special, more so as it’s dedicated to my amazing daughter. I had a lot to achieve in Forbidden Realm, I needed to find a storyline worthy of the series, plus create a strong heroine for Rónán. Hence, Lathir’s character was born. I was blessed in that Lathir came to me a complete character, intelligent, passionate, and determined. The perfect match for Rónán. So, I devised a plot where they faced numerous and at times seemingly impossible odds, but in the end, not only allowed them a happily ever after, but a complex story laden with surprises, that I sincerely hope readers enjoy.
About the Author
A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers series have been translated into five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.
After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers series, The Oath Trilogy, and the first four books of The Forbidden Series, she’s thrilled with the release of book #5, Forbidden Realm.
Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.
Contest
***ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my guest blog post about, ‘Forbidden Realm, The Story, The Series Inspiration,’ on Delilah’s blog between 15 April 2020 – 26 April 2020. The winner will receive a mug and tote.
You’d think, being a minister, I’d wake on Sunday morning wondering what miracle lay in store for me that day. Unfortunately, more often than not I’d have the Saturday night why-did-I say-I’d-preach-on-Sunday blues. My colleagues and I lead our parishioners in choruses like “Victory is Mine” or classic hymns like “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”, but many of us leave the ministry suffering from compassion fatigue or badly burned by well-intentioned dragons. I could have been one of those casualties but for a faith-reviving miracle.
From 2013-2015, I served as interim pastor to the United Presbyterian Church in Paterson, NJ, where I met an enthusiastic member named Diane Anderson. She wanted to hold an evangelistic service outdoors so members of the community could hear the message. For the benediction, we’d write prayers on index cards, tie them to helium balloons then release them. The Sunday of the service was warm and wonderful. We worshipped in the church parking lot and, at the end of the service, released our balloons as planned. They dotted a blue and cloudless sky.
The following Tuesday on our answering machine was a message from a woman who lived in Massachusetts just outside of Boston. She shared how one of our balloon blessings reached her backyard and was an answer to a prayer.
I called her back and had a wonderful conversation. It seems her father had recently died after a long bout with cancer. She’d gone that Sunday to his graveside and just talked to him, letting him know how much she missed him and didn’t know how she was going to go on without him. On Monday, as she was washing her dishes she glanced out her kitchen window and saw something stuck to a shed in her backyard. She went to retrieve it. It was a balloon with the following message attached: “Jesus, I am asking and believing in your name to continue to bless all those free of cancer and to those suffering that you will comfort them during this time.” She told me she wasn’t a religious person, but she felt sure our balloon was a sign from her dad that all was well with him and all would be well with her. Because our address was on the card she was able to track us down and thank us. She mailed the card back so I could share her thank you with the congregation the following Sunday.
I told Diane first. She had always wanted to do a service like this and thanked me for encouraging her to do it, despite the grumbling from the we’ve-never-done-it-that-way-before naysayers of the congregation. Diane now leads a ministry called Faithworks that feeds 500 people a month.
That balloon traveled 220 miles from our parking lot in Paterson to this woman’s Boston neighborhood. Ever since that call, I greet each morning with this prayer: “Thank you, God, for another day to be used by you for good.”
Coincidence or miracle? I believe the latter. What do you say?
One Breath Away
Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.
Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex. Hope ignites along with lust until the past threatens to keep them one breath away from love…
Excerpt from One Breath Away
She circled around him as if he were an open bear trap. “What if touching you in those ways doesn’t give me pleasure?”
Her words sliced across his throat. He pressed a fist against his heart then sucked air through his mouth to recapture his breath. “Then I’m wrong…but I honestly don’t believe I am.”
She frowned. “I told you I’ve no experience when it comes to relations between men and women.”
“You’re a fast learner, remember?”
She looked down. Interest burned in the gaze that traveled to his crotch. His cock twitched under her scrutiny. She returned her attention to his face, stared into his eyes, searched a minute.
Eban held his breath.
Come on stars. Be right.
She tilted her head. “You’ll show me what you want? Guide me? Instruct me?”
“If you’re willing.”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Fine. Show me.”
He unbuttoned his fly, let his pants slip slowly down his legs, and blew out a breath as her gaze followed his movements. He discarded his underwear, swallowed hard as he exposed his member to her. Her eyes widened.
“Your first impression?”
Still clutching her shoe, she approached him, reached for his cock, let her hand hover indecisively.
“Touch it anyway you like.”
She knelt on the mattress, laid her shoe aside and took his genitalia in her hands. He closed his eyes, melted in the immediate warmth of her fingers cupping his balls. A drop of semen pearled from the head’s slit.
“What is this?”
He opened his eyes, observed then relaxed at the curiosity in her gaze.
“Sperm.”
She thumbed the substance onto her fingers, examined it, sniffed it.
“Planted in your womb it becomes a baby.”
She spread the precious seed along his cock slit. He stifled a moan as a delicious thrill tripped up his shaft. She stopped. He looked down into eyes filled with concern.
“Have I done something wrong?”
He shuddered, shook his head. “No. You’ve done something very right. Please, continue.”
With each book I write, I’m continually inspired by nature. Recently, I had a pair of Baltimore Orioles visit. They’re stunning birds, and I’ll miss them once they continue their journey north.
As hints of spring fill the air, with flowers beginning to nudge through the earth, and migration starting, I’m keeping watch for birds as they travel through, including the Blue Grosbeaks.
Walking through the woods, fragrant with the scent of pine, I spot birds that I see year-round, like the chickadee.
On a recent visit to the marsh, with the scent of salt and the sea filling the air, I saw these gorgeous does at the edge of the woods.
I enjoy watching the sunrise. There’s something magical about when the first rays stream through the sky, slowly illuminating the land. With the beauty that unfolds, as I never know what I’m going to see, each morning’s sunrise is like a gift. With each day, regardless of where I go, nature’s beauty surrounds me, and the sights, scents, and sounds are continual inspiration for my muse.
About Diana Cosby
A retired Navy Chief, Diana Cosby is an international bestselling author of Scottish medieval romantic suspense. Books in her award-winning MacGruder Brothers Series have been translated in five languages. Diana has spoken at the Library of Congress, Lady Jane’s Salon in NYC, and appeared in Woman’s Day, on USA Today’s romance blog, “Happy Ever After,” MSN.com, Atlantic County Women Magazine, and Texoma Living Magazine.
After her career in the Navy, Diana dove into her passion – writing romance novels. With 34 moves behind her, she was anxious to create characters who reflected the amazing cultures and people she’s met throughout the world. After the release of the bestselling MacGruder Brothers Series, The Oath Trilogy, and the first four books of The Forbidden Series, she’s now preparing for the release of book #5, Forbidden Realm, on 14 April, 2020.
Diana looks forward to the years of writing ahead and meeting the amazing people who will share this journey.
Contest
***ONE winner will be drawn from everyone who posts on my guest blog post about, ‘Nature – Continual Inspiration For My Muse,’ on Delilah’s blog between 8 March 2020 – 15 March 2020. The winner will receive a signed copy of His Woman.
It’s release day!! Yes, my story, Brian released yesterday—but not because I was trying to get out ahead of everybody else. I was simply calendar-challenged when I selected my date. I thought I’d chosen a Tuesday. Which is really kind of stupid, because KDP gives you a little calendar to look at when you choose your date, but I had the 24th in my brain, so the 24th it would be.
Anyways, lots of great books to celebrate today: Mine (ahem, Brian), my sister Elle Jame’s (SEAL’s Vow), and the one I’m featuring here today, written by my friend and fab author, Reina Torres!
From Fab Friend & Author Reina Torres
Part of the challenge of setting a Romance in the early 1970s was giving it a different feel from the modern-day. The book didn’t qualify as a “historical” in the book sense, but since I was setting it back almost fifty years in the past, there were certain things that brought me back into the early 70s: Clothes and Music.
Clothes were fun: terrycloth, corduroy, denims—and all the fun that went along with those fabrics.
Music was a little more of a challenge…
I was born in 1973, and my mother has often told me that I sang before I spoke. I’m guessing she means in complete phrases or sentences, but she just repeats the same stories over and over. My mom and dad both worked for the United States Postal Service, so I think you can safely say that I’m a Postal Child. 🙂
My dad worked the day shift, and my mom worked the graveyard shift. So when my dad headed off in the morning to go to work, he’d put me in the passenger seat (remember, it’s the 70s), laid back and wrapped up in my favorite blanket. He’d put the radio on for the drive into downtown Honolulu, heading straight to the post office where my mother worked. She’d get in the driver’s seat, and my dad would climb in the back, and we’d drop him off at work before my mom turned toward home.
I’d doze the way there and back, singing to the radio the entire time to songs like this one…
When I started writing Jesse, I did a little brainstorming on the earliest songs I could remember, and then came the reality check while going through the songs and checking to see which ones were in the right time period and which came after 1973-1974. With a couple of “oops” choices, I actually managed to put together a list of songs that helped take me back in time.
Much like Richard Collier in the movie Somewhere in Time, surrounding myself with the music of the era helped take me back in time for the book. So, I hope you’ll enjoy a little trip back in time to see how Jesse Sutton and Etta Bradford met and fell in love.
The rest of the series will be the stories of their children as they continue The Suttons – An American Legacy.
The instant he said it, he tensed, expecting to feel her hand across his cheek.
When she didn’t, he gave her a curious look, doubling down on his stupidity, and a moment later he wished that she had cracked him across his jaw. It would have been better than the way her expression crumbled as she took a step back, breaking the hold he had on her hand, and her shoulders sagged.
He was an ass. That was clear.
What he needed to do was apologize.
Quickly.
But all the words he needed to say were stuck somewhere in the back of his mind along with the sense that should have helped him keep his mouth shut in the first place.
“I’ve been kissed before!”
What?
That wasn’t what he asked.
Not by a long shot.
But, then again, her answer was just as telling.
He wasn’t just an ass. He let his mouth get way ahead of his brain. A fucking stampede ahead of the stage.
“I’m not talking about the playground, Etta. I’m talking about a kiss.” His voice had dipped dangerously low, vibrating through him like a tuning fork and making him just as hard.
He took a step closer.
Etta countered by taking a step back. They danced that way across the sidewalk until he knew he had her exactly where he wanted her.
Against the wall.
She knew it too. Her palms flattened against the wall at her sides and her shoulders pushed back. She raised her gaze up to meet his as if she was trying to tell him that she wasn’t nervous, but he saw the way her breathing shallowed, her skin flushed, and her lips parted as he moved even closer.
And he continued until the toes of his boots were almost nudging the tips of her shoes. He raked his gaze up over her feet, the hem of her dress, over the tantalizing rise and fall of her breasts and back up along the flushed skin of her chest, neck, and face.
He lifted a hand and gently touched her cheek. “First,” he smiled at her, “one, or both people, have to move their nose out of the way. So, we’ll go with both here.” He put the tiniest bit of pressure on her cheek and tilted her head a little bit. “Next, we’ll keep teeth out of it, unless you want to bite a lip… that could be fun.”
She swallowed and he swore he could hear the soft sound echoing off the thick concrete walls. “Is that all?”
“All?”
Etta nodded, but he didn’t see the motion, he could only feel it against his fingertips. “The rules?”
The corner of his mouth lifted and he leaned in closer, bracing his free hand on the wall just above her shoulder. “Those aren’t rules, Etta. Just a few things to make it easier.”
“Easier?” She echoed the word with a tight, breathy voice. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t,” he sighed and trailed the hand against her cheek into her hair, enjoying the feeling of it against his skin, “but I’m going to show you.”
She blinked up at him. “Okay.”
If she didn’t stop looking at him like a sacrificial lamb, he was going to lose his mind.
“There’s a time and place for hard kisses, sweetheart.”
Etta nodded as if she was making a note in her head. So beautiful and if he was any judge, innocent in so many ways.
“But tonight,” he moved closer until his lips were close enough to hers to feel the heat of her skin, “we’re going to start with gentle.”
“Gentle…” her lips were so damn close and he could hear the curious plea in her tone, “okay.”
He couldn’t wait another moment. He touched his lips to hers and felt her tense. He waited until her body eased into the sensation before he moved away.
Her eyes fluttered open. And she looked into his eyes as her brow pinched ever so slightly.
He smiled at the curious question he saw in her eyes. “What is it, Etta?”
She swayed closer. “Was that… all?”
“You want more?”
She opened her lips to answer and he swept in to kiss her again. Press in closer until he could feel the way her lips pressed back against his. Plump. Plush. Made for this. Made for him.
Contest
Pick your favorite song from my list above, and I’ll select a random person to win a download of Jesse!
I love Richard Rogers and Oscar Hammerstein II musicals. I grew up watching them as movies on television. While not all their storylines have held up over time, I’m still moved by songs like “Something Wonderful”, “You’ll Never Walk Alone” and “You’ve Got To Be Carefully Taught”. I am grateful to this prolific team for their heartfelt lyrics and beautiful music, but my deepest thanks goes to R&H for introducing me to Juanita Hall.
Growing up in the sixties, I hungered for images of Black women on the silver screen whom I could name and admire. R&H let me see a Black actress strut her stuff in some of the earliest examples of casting without regard to race.
Hall had been performing on Broadway since 1930. She even took a turn at directing in 1936. By the time R&H cast her in 1949’s South Pacific, she’d performed in no less than eight Broadway plays including Green Pastures and St. Louis Woman. R&H decided they needed someone with the voice and acting chops to bring the character of the Pacific Islander Bloody Mary to life. Juanita Hall filled the bill. She reprised the role in the 1958 film, although I have to listen to the original Broadway cast album to hear her sing “Bali H’ai”. In 1958, R&H used her in a second instance of casting despite race. She created the role of Madame Liang in Flower Drum Song. Hall recreated her role for the movie in 1961.
For a Black kid growing up in the East New York section of Brooklyn, knowing this Black woman wouldn’t be pigeonholed because of her race was inspirational. I like to think there’s a bit of Hall in One Breath Away‘s Mary Hamilton, a woman hemmed in by society’s expectations, but with the potential to break through them if given the chance. Besides her stage and film career, Hall cut albums, performed in nightclubs and directed choruses and choirs. You can learn more about her here: https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/hall-juanita-1901-1968/.
Nowadays those movies are critiqued for not hiring someone of Pacific Islander or Chinese background to play these roles, and rightly so. It hurts to see someone not of your race or ethnicity representing you. Boys and girls of all races need role models in whom they can see themselves and be proud of the way I was able to see myself in and be proud of Juanita Hall. I can’t ignore or minimize the wounding caused by casting a Black woman to portray someone of another race. The pros and cons of this “colorblind” approach are passionately debated. What I can do is celebrate that in 1949, by casting Hall in a musical whose plot revolves around race prejudice, R&H helped make Black History. Juanita Hall not only won the 1950 Tony for her role but, by doing so, became the first African American ever to win a Tony award.
One Breath Away
Sentenced to hang for a crime she didn’t commit, former slave Mary Hamilton was exonerated at literally the last gasp. She returns to Safe Haven, broken and resigned to live alone. She’s never been courted, cuddled or spooned, and now no man could want her, not when sexual satisfaction comes only with the thought of asphyxiation. But then the handsome stranger who saved her shows up, stealing her breath from across the room and promising so much more.
Wealthy, freeborn-Black, Eban Thurman followed Mary to Safe Haven, believing the mysteriously exotic woman was foretold by the stars. He must marry her to reclaim his family farm. But first he must help her heal, and to do that means revealing his own predilection for edgier sex.
“Because someone like you only looks at someone like me out of pity.”
Of course. His aunt put him up to this. Anger warmed Mary’s ears.
“Let me go.” She made to pull away. “I want to sit.”
“Please. Not before the music stops.” He timed his plea to the rhythm of the waltz. “I’ve waited all week for this moment.”
Mary gritted her teeth. Heart hurt joined her injured pride. She needed no one’s charity.
“That was cruel of you, sir. No one counts the days until they can ask me for a dance.” Tears pooled behind her closed eyelids. “Anyone in town could tell you that.”
The grip on her hand tightened, forcing her eyes open. The light in his gaze darkened. “Anyone who’d lie to me like that would be taking their life in their hands.” He leaned in so his mouth nuzzled her ear again. “And if you use that I’m-not-worthy tone of voice again, I’ll be forced to prove you wrong with a kiss.”
Alarm shuddered up Mary’s back. “Is—is that a threat?”
“A certainty.”
A chilly thrill replaced the alarm. She blew out a breath to steady herself. Threat or certainty, both treated her to a delicious revelation—she wanted that kiss. She eyed his lips, imagined their soft yet demanding press against hers. Once more the voice of caution repeated its warning.
Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.
Oh, to be forced to flee from such a devil as he. She sighed. What a wonderful problem to have.
Hall had been performing on Broadway since 1930. She even took a turn at directing in 1936. By the time R&H cast her in 1949’s South Pacific, she’d performed in no less than eight Broadway plays including Green Pastures and St. Louis Woman. R&H decided they needed someone with the voice and acting chops to bring the character of the Pacific Islander Bloody Mary to life. Juanita Hall filled the bill. She reprised the role in the 1958 film, although I have to listen to the original Broadway cast album to hear her sing “Bali H’ai”. In 1958, R&H used her in a second instance of casting despite race. She created the role of Madame Liang in Flower Drum Song. Hall recreated her role for the movie in 1961.
