a blog/forum from the desk of author, P. J. Dean, primarily for promoting her latest releases, for discussing romance writing and that curious niche christened "multicultural." Tea will be sipped and occasionally spilled about the irrational, racial and religious WTFery that goes on in the industry. Related "multicultural" stateside doings will be highlighted too.
Check out Author Central too for more info on 100th Blog Anniversary Bash being held on Facebook over the weekend.
This week's excerpt is free-range, random and from my latest KINDRED, AN AMERICAN LOVE STORY, a historical set in colonial New York state. My characters are very special. Educated, free, articulate minorities raised in a time when they were seen fit for only cleaning houses, cooking, laboring for others or simply ignored. African-American Kindred and Oneida Native Lelaheo have been brought up by a forward-thinking physician to believe they can achieve anything. On the eve of Lelaheo's leaving for medical school in Europe, he comes to Kindred to settle a matter which has been hanging between them like a fog.
The household was partially silent. Only the ticking of the hall clock and Dr. Twain’s snoring competed for her attention. Once in her own room, she sagged wearily against the door, removed her head wrap and shoved it in an apron pocket. She did not like how Rozina was becoming listless by day’s end now. She did not like how her granny was tired all the time and rested more. It scared her. The land’s unending discord, Lelaheo’s leaving just as they were coming together…life as she had come to know it was changing. What once had been challenging was now just draining. She pushed off the door, untied and removed her apron and stripped down to her shift. She yawned and stretched, her toned, slender body, framed in beautiful profile, in the moonlight. As she undid her braids, she recited aloud, “Please, Lord. No more days like this one. And if you do have more, give me strength to get through them.”
“Kindred, never think that you have to shoulder burdens alone.”
Startled, Kindred grabbed up her dress. She had gotten to her room without a lamp and had not lit one when she’d entered it, knowing its layout by heart. “Lelaheo!” She sucked in air loudly. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“We need to talk in depth about our situation.” He sat in the dark, in the ladder-back rocker by the window. He reached over to turn up the oil lamp. Light filled the room, illuminating all within. He rose and walked toward her. She withdrew, the doorknob hitting her in the small of the back.
“Please, Lelaheo.” She held out her arm to stop his advance. “Please leave. We should not be alone together like this.”
Lelaheo pulled the dress from her grasp. He pried her from the door and swept her into his embrace. At their contact, Kindred inhaled abruptly. Caught in his arms, clad only in her shift, she felt both vulnerable and enticing. His ample hands traveled over her, slowly, deliberately. A sudden surge of excitement coursed through her.
“Why not? My intentions are honorable.” He dropped his head down next to hers and nuzzled her ear. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the tactile. His fingers slowly peeled the straps of her shift from her shoulders, then traced their curvature and the toned muscles of her arms. His hands claimed her waist next, testing how it flowed into nicely curved hips. They both shuddered.