Bestselling Author Delilah Devlin
HomeMeet Delilah
BookshelfBlogExtrasEditorial ServicesContactDelilah's Collections

Blog

Word Search: Things associated with June! (Contest)
Thursday, June 26th, 2025

UPDATE: The winner is…Cindy!
*~*~*

It’s nearly the end of June, and I’m mourning that—as are the kids who aren’t ready to even think about returning to school at the end of summer. So, maybe my celebration of the month is a little late, but I do love June, so here’s a word search filled with things that popped into my head when I thought about June, like the Roman goddess Juno, for whom the month was named!

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what pops into your head when you think about June!

Gabbi Grey: When a trope comes calling (Contest)
Wednesday, June 25th, 2025

UPDATE: The winner is…Sara D!
*~*~*

Hello, Delilah! Thank you for welcoming me here to share my new release! I hope you’ll bear with me as I share the journey for this book.

Puppy Pride wasn’t a book on my 2025 bingo card.  Like, at all.  But I don’t know how to say ‘no,’ and so when offered a spot in the series, I grabbed it.  Initially, I thought about writing a young adult novel about a pride summer camp.

Then I realized the series blurb discussed Mommies and Daddies.  Uh…no. I wasn’t going to write a YA as it wouldn’t really fit into the series.

Okay, so Mommies and Daddies.

Well, I’d just published A Daddy for Christmas 2: Foster.  A Daddy/pup gay romance novel.  That was my first dip into puppy play kink, and I had such a blast that when I signed up for Pride Camp, I decided to head back into that subgenre and trope.

My readers have shown a lot of love for Foster, so I wanted to give them more.

Occasionally, I have to build a book from the outside in.  What do I mean by that?  I needed a cover first.  When I’m writing my interracial romances, I like to have a good idea of who I’m going to be representing since I’m a middle-aged white woman writing about Black, Hispanic, and Indian men (and soon Asian — just to add to the mix).  I live in a world of color where I’m in the minority on my floor in my apartment building. I love that.  I want to see this world represented — hence my inclusion of diverse people in my writing.

Puppy Pride is another interracial romance between an Indian man and a Black man.  Foster had a Black man on the cover – he was the pup.  I wanted the pup to be on this new cover, so I needed to find my Jai.

It wasn’t too hard as I found him pretty quickly.  The man on the cover is exactly how I see him in my mind.  From there, I created Demetrius in my head, and I was ready to go.  I tapped Plot Whisperer for some advice, which she freely gave.  Finally, I wanted a way to connect my two books.  So, I realized Jai and Arnav (the Daddy from my previous book) went to school together but had lost touch.  From there, I was able to incorporate much of my fictional small town (Mission City) and write a book where some old faces are interspersed with new ones.

Which brings us to today!  Puppy Pride is out, and I can’t be happier.  I love the other Pride Camp 2025 books, and I hope readers will enjoy all of them as well.

Okay, Delilah, that’s my story!  How the sausage gets made, so to speak.  As a thank you, I would love to gift a copy of my Daddy/pup book, A Daddy for Christmas 2: Foster to one lucky commentor. (If Daddy/pup kink isn’t your thing, or if you already own the book, I can gift you another book from my collection.)  I would love to hear from your readers — how much does the cover matter to a story? Is there something that makes you grab a book or something that makes you wrinkle your nose? Alternately, how about the blurb? Read’em? Igonore’em? I’d love to hear from you and Random will choose the winner.  Good luck!

Puppy Pride

Jai

Six years ago, the guy I thought I loved told all my friends that I liked to wear paws and a tail and crawl on the floor being a puppy. He turned my private play into a cruel joke, and I ran. Left my friends, my family, home, job, as well as my puppy-play group, and tried to let distance and time heal those wounds. Now, I’ve been given the chance to serve as the director of the new Mission City Pride Camp for teens. But my fresh start turns sour when someone starts leaving dog treats on my desk. Can I stand up to bullying this time and show these kids they have a right to be themselves? Or am I going to run again?

Demetrius

When my best friend got cancer, marrying her was the only real help I could give. Then she died, and I was left trying to single-parent my hurting stepson and stepdaughter without her. When Keegan tells me he’s being bullied for being gay, I desperately want to help him gain resources to survive and thrive. Enrolling him at Pride Camp is step one, and I’m delighted to find the director is a pup I loved playing with back at Whatsup Pup Club. If anyone knows about being bullied and inner strength, it’s Jai. I’d love to reconnect with him on a personal level, too, but he keeps pretending he doesn’t recognize me. I figure leaving him reminder gifts is a good place to start, to show him I’m interested in man and pup. But he seems more and more stressed, and I wonder if I have it wrong. Is there any chance he’ll let me be the Daddy I was for those short, sweet moments six years ago? Can I take a load off his shoulders, or will he shut me out forever?

Puppy Pride is an interracial, age-gap, hurt/comfort, second chance gay romance novel with a generous Daddy, a skittish pup, and the magic when they find each other again.

Welcome to Pride Camp, where diversity and inclusion is our motto. We’ve got daddies, mommies, littles, pets and families of all kinds. So, unroll your sleeping bag, make a couple s’mores, and enjoy the show!

Links:
Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Puppy-Pride-Gabbi-Grey-ebook/dp/B0DXFLS99S
Universal Book Link: https://books2read.com/PuppyPrideCamp

About the Author

USA Today Bestselling author Gabbi Grey lives in beautiful British Columbia where her fur baby chin-poo keeps her safe from the nasty neighborhood squirrels. Working for the government by day, she spends her early mornings writing contemporary, gay, sweet, and dark erotic BDSM romances. While she firmly believes in happy endings, she also believes in making her characters suffer before finding their true love. She also writes m/f romances as Gabbi Black and Gabbi Powell.

Personal links:
Website: https://gabbigrey.com/
Newsletter sign-up: https://sendfox.com/gabbigrey
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorgabbigrey/
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/gabbi-grey
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15456297.Gabbi_Grey
Amazon Author Central: https://www.amazon.com/Gabbi-Grey/e/B07SJVFX1M

Flashback: Bound & Determined from Texas Cowboys (Contest & Excerpt)
Tuesday, June 24th, 2025

UPDATE: The winner is…Ani!
*~*~*

Maybe you only know me through my bounty hunter books or the Brotherhood Protector stories I sometimes write. I’ve been a full-time author for more years than I care to admit, so there’s more on my backlist if you’re interested in checking out my older titles. Plus, if you love a sexier story than I tend to write now, you’ll really dig these. Hot cowboys? Lava-hot sex? What’s not to love? Read the excerpt below and comment for a chance to win a free download of any one of my six Texas Cowboys stories. They’re available in eBook and gathered together in two print volumes, or individually, if you go to my series page, and scroll down to Texas Cowboys.

Texas Cowboys Volume 1 Texas Cowboys Volume 2

Texas Cowboys: Bound & Determined

When Tara Toomey hosts the annual cowboy auction in her bar, she’s in the mood to serve bad boy Cody Westhofen more than a drink when she raises her bidding paddle. She’s done with his freewheeling ways. It’s time for the sexy cowboy to man up or get the hell out of her life. What better way to capture his attention and show him she’s serious than to kidnap him for a wanton weekend?

Tied to Tara’s bed, Cody is more than willing to cooperate. Until he found himself cuffed to her bed, he didn’t know how desperate she was to show him how much she cares.

It’s going to be a long, hot weekend…

Read an Excerpt

When the DJ’s speaker set crashed to the floor as the first women to arrive rushed the tables nearest the stage, Tara Toomey scrambled for a replacement and chalked the mishap up to high spirits.

When one of the volunteers carrying a tray of Jell-O shots tripped, and cherry and lime gelatin slid in glistening trails down his face and naked chest, she laughed as eager women offered to lick him clean.

However, it wasn’t until one of her staff whispered in her ear that she knew she was in for a long night. The main attraction had yet to arrive.

She crushed her dog-eared copy of the “Hook-up” program in her fist and headed toward the old-fashioned, double swinging doors, ready to stomp all the way to Redbone Ranch to drag his butt to town.

As she passed excited, tittering women her smile felt strained, and her nerves stretched taut. The “Annual Honky-tonk Hook-up” had always been a good time, but this year she wished she hadn’t been so quick to volunteer her bar again. Sure, it was good for business and many of the “blow-ins” from Houston, San Antonio, and San Angelo returned throughout the year because they enjoyed the event and Paraiso’s authentic western ambience.

But Tara wished she could return home, crawl into bed, and pull the covers over her head. The last thing she felt ready to do was watch one particular cowboy strut his stuff across the stage and land in some other woman’s clutches—even if it was just one night, completely innocent, right, and for a really good cause. The fact he might blow off the auction pissed her off almost as much as the thought of the spectacle he’d cause if he did finally make an entrance.

If anyone thought splintered speaker casings or a little spilled Jell-O were trouble, they hadn’t seen a room full of women erupt in the wake of one seriously sexy cowboy.

The thought soured her stomach. Still, she had a part to play in tonight’s festivities. Everyone seemed to think it was her job to make sure that cowboy showed up, because she was one of the few true friends he had. And after all, his picture in the auction advertisement had been the big pull.

Too many gussied-up women crowded the entrance to the bar, and the line wrapped twice around the narrow foyer. Not that anyone complained about the wait as bare-chested men wearing tight jeans, cowboy hats, and wicked smiles carried more trays laden with drinks down the long line.

Rather than wade through the cloud of perfume when all her “polite” was gone, Tara swept past the sign-in tables where volunteers busily took the women’s cash and handed out programs, shiny Mardi Gras beads, and wooden bidding paddles.

The combined scent of expensive perfumes made Tara’s nose twitch, so she pivoted on her heel and stomped toward the side entrance, reminded again about the cause of her agitation.

Perfume was like doe piss to this horned buck—irresistible bait. So, where the hell was he?

“He’s late!” a high-pitched voice squeaked behind her.

Tara didn’t even bother trying to pretend she didn’t know who “He” was, or that she didn’t know he hadn’t shown. Any woman with an ounce of estrogen in her veins would feel the tingle the moment the cowboy sauntered into the room.

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Tara muttered, pausing at the door to shoot a glance over her shoulder.

Meaghan Garrity, the event’s “man-wrangler”, trotted toward her, her anxious gaze rising over the top of the clipboard she clutched to her chest. Spots of hectic color glazed each pale cheek. Her long red hair escaped the untidy knot at the top of her head in long curling tendrils. “Didn’t you tell him he was second on the program? We can’t start until he gets here.”

“He’ll be here,” Tara bit out, and then forced a smile. No use getting Meaghan more nervous than she already was. He wouldn’t stand them all up, would he?

Even as she said it, her stomach churned. There was only one thing that would keep the cowboy from his adoring fans. An easier fish to land—one he didn’t even have to bother moving his adorable tail to find.

Tara wondered what her name was, and the image of a beauty with her head snatched bald flashed through her mind. But she pasted on a smile to reassure her friend, while inside her anger began a slow, hot boil.

Leave it to Cody Westhofen to keep three hundred intoxicated women waitin’ on his sweet ass. Does the man think his sex appeal will forgive all sins?

Tara carefully ignored the little voice inside her that screamed an emphatic, Yes! Instead, she murmured, “Think that man would miss a chance at addin’ a hundred more numbers to his little black book?” Although she began the statement as a joke, anger scraped a sharper edge to her voice toward the end.

Tara caught herself before she began a rant, afraid Meaghan, whom she’d known since kindergarten, would wonder why one slow-as-molasses cowboy could get under her skin. After all, Tara was known for her ready smile, even temper but, especially, for her cowboy-proof armor.

She shoved her crumpled program into Meaghan’s hand. “Um…I’ll check outside and see what’s keepin’ him.”

“Or who! Better check back seats!” Meaghan whispered loudly. “That man can’t take a step without trippin’ over a droolin’ woman.”

With a wry twist of her lips, Tara pushed open the glass door to step out into the parking lot.

Outside, stars twinkled above the spotlight that illuminated the gravel lot overflowing with cars, SUVs, and pickup trucks. More vehicles lined the road leading to the bar for as far as she could see. Luckily, the southerly wind that had whipped up the stink from the stockyards earlier had changed course. Although a little humid, the air was sweet and cool.

Muffled music and laughter sounded from the building behind her, but for a moment, a peaceful calm surrounded her. Tara closed her eyes and dragged in a deep breath, sure this would be the last time she’d get a chance to relax tonight.

Gravel crunched behind her, and her eyes shot open. Thick, corded arms encircled her waist, a cowboy hat held in one hand. The crisp scent of spicy cologne tickled her nose. “Hey darlin’, afraid I wouldn’t show?”

Even if he hadn’t spoken first, she’d have known it was him. That telltale tingle raised goose bumps all over her body.

Tara stiffened and her eyes slid open, but she didn’t push the arms away. The snug pressure provided a moment’s reassurance however empty the promise.

She slid her hands over the tops of his and squeezed. “Cuttin’ it a little close, aren’t ya, cowboy?” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. “The natives are gettin’ restless.”

“Been waitin’ on you, sweetheart. Thought I’d let you get mad enough to wrestle me inside. You know how much I love to get you riled.” Cody’s arms withdrew, but before she had a chance to light into him good for being late, his hands gripped her hips and twirled her around.

And although she knew peeking up into his face would spell the end of her self-possession, her gaze rose to lock with his for a long, charged moment.

Even in the shadows, shards of pale electric blue pierced the night. Whoever didn’t think there was a God had never looked into Cody’s bluer-than-blue eyes. Their gazes had never lingered over the width of his shoulders, the masculine curve of his jaw, the strong jut of his square chin and straight nose. With a body made for loving and hair so pale and silky it captured light like a halo around his head, a woman could be fooled into thinking he just might be an angel incarnate.

Until they saw the wicked curve of his lips—a smile so seductive, so sensually ripe, it triggered a primal response an octogenarian nun couldn’t deny.

Trapped against his naked chest, Tara dug deep for any frayed fragments of pride she still possessed and scowled. “What do you think you’re doin’? Anyone could look outside and see us.”

“What do you care?”

“I’m not your girlfriend,” Tara growled. “And I don’t want to be mistaken for one of your goodtime squeezes. I’d just as soon keep it on the down low that I’ve succumbed a time or two to your charms.”

Cody’s brows drew together, deepening the shadows engulfing his eyes, making his appearance seem a tad sinister. “Ashamed of me?” he asked softly. “Or are you ashamed you want me?”

Tara shivered, whether from the cooling tension in his voice or her own tightly wound anger, she couldn’t have said.

Her last speck of self-respect kept her frowning, denying his overpowering attraction. “No, I’m not ashamed of you, and I’m woman enough not to be ashamed all my parts seem to function just fine when you’re around, but I do have a reputation to uphold. If anyone found out I’ve been sleeping with the biggest womanizer in Texas, it would be ripped to shreds.”

“Sure sounds like shame to me.”

The easy, sexy slide of his voice told her she’d amused him. Cody always said he knew when she was lying because she talked too much without saying anything at all.

She took another deep breath to calm her racing heart. “I just don’t want everyone knowin’ my business. And since there isn’t really anything for them to know—I mean, it’s not like we’re a couple, right?—I’d just as soon not ask for trouble.”

“What kinda trouble you expectin’?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Trouble follows you everywhere you go! That wasn’t you Brandon Tynan took a couple of swings at for gettin’ fresh with Lyssa? Sarah Michelson didn’t almost get arrested for indecent exposure when she cornered you in the bathroom?”

“No man’s gonna punch me out for messin’ with you. They’d probably pin a medal on my chest for havin’ the guts. And I didn’t ask Sarah to follow me inside the bathroom.”

“No, you didn’t, but she did. And she wasn’t the first to throw herself at you. Do you think I’d have a business left if half my customers, the female half, decided to boycott me?”

Cody snorted. Then his lips stretched again into a smile. “You’re not makin’ any sense at all. Tonight got you rattled, sugar?” His hands slid up and down her back in an attempt to soothe her.

Her irritation spiked like oil breaching a well-head. “Cody, we don’t have time for you to play with me. Besides, would you want any of those women you’re trolling for tonight to think you’re already taken? They don’t know you like the rest of Paraiso does. They might think you actually do have a loyal bone in your body.”

Cody’s lips tightened for a second then relaxed, slowly sliding into his trademark smirk. “Gimme a kiss for good luck?”

She let out an exasperated huff. “Do you promise you’ll get your butt inside if I do?”

“Lady, don’t you know all you have to do is ask? Your pleasure’s all mine.”

She stifled the sigh sifting between her lips. If only that were true. “Well, I’m askin’.”

“For a kiss?”

She wrinkled her nose and forced a light-hearted laugh. “You’re impossible.”

His grin stretched. “And you’re beautiful.”

His head bent towards hers, and Tara forced herself to turn her head to the side. “This isn’t part of our agreement,” she whispered.

“It’s just a goddamn kiss,” he growled.

“Anytime you want to change the rules…”

His hands tightened on her waist. “Maybe those rules should be up for renegotiation. All I want’s a kiss. Not anything I’m not gonna give a dozen women tonight.”

“You’re wastin’ time.”

“You wanna explain what kept me in the parking lot?”

Tara tightened her lips and turned her head toward him. “Be quick.”

“Stubborn woman,” he said softly as he bent toward her.

A smile tugged at her lips as he bent over her again. No way was he gonna let a woman have the last word.

All her arguments bled away as he closed in. She pushed aside her concern that anyone might see. She’d waited all night for this kiss. Not that she’d let him know it. And lordy, he didn’t disappoint. Never did.

Never mind his mouth would be kissing dozens of lips before the night ended. For this moment, he was all hers.

His firm mouth captured hers and began a sexy, circling glide that sent an electric jolt of awareness straight through her. Her pulse began a delicious throb, her nipples beaded, and moist little tugs of arousal stirred between her legs.

She gasped against his mouth, and his tongue swept inside to ravish. A low, throaty growl rumbled from his chest into her mouth, and he jerked back his head. “Damn. Do we really have to go inside now?”

“It’s that or risk having three hundred women descending upon us mid-stroke in the parking lot.”

He settled his forehead against hers. “I love when you talk dirty. You should do it more often.”

“It’s a sad fact it doesn’t take more than ‘hello’ for you to get horny. Better get inside. Meaghan’s gonna have a coronary. And you forgot your shirt.”

“No, I didn’t. Just didn’t want it disappearing like the rest of my clothes did last year.”

“Women takin’ souvenirs?” Her lips curved.

His grin stretched wide. “Will you fight them off if they manage to get my pants this year?”

Her glance fell to the blue jeans lovingly curved over the bulge at the front of his pants and the leather chaps that encased both of his thick, muscled thighs. “Why on earth would you think I’d care?”

His eyes narrowed, falling to her mouth.

She fought to keep her lips from thinning, or Cody would know she was lying. Another little “tell” she’d never known she gave away—until he’d mentioned it.

His chest expanded around a deep sigh. “You sure know how to sink a dent in a man’s ego.”

“Someone has to give it a prick every now and then, or you’d be a complete jerk.”

He arched a brow. “Why do you put up with me if I’m such a pain?”

Tara felt her face and chest warm. “I live in hope of seeing you hog-tied to one woman some day and lovin’ it.”

His snort jerked back his head. “Better plan on livin’ a long, long time, sweetheart.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “You had your kiss…”

His hands dropped from her hips. “Guess Meaghan’s havin’ kittens right about now.”

Kittens? I’m havin’ goddamn orange tabbies and alley cats!” Meaghan shouted from the side door. “Get your butt inside before they start a riot!”

Genevive Chamblee: A Cautionary Tale of Reading Shaming
Monday, June 23rd, 2025

Oh dear! When did reading become a source for shaming? There are so many vices in the world that could cause a person to be embarrassed, but I didn’t think reading would be one of them. And no, I’m not talking about the reading materials that come wrapped in black plastic, have parts of images blurred, or come with a parental warning label. (I’m not excluding those, either, cos you do you, boo. There’s room for everyone.) No, I’m speaking of any and all books regardless of genre, content, or reading level.

Some time ago, a colleague had a similar incident, and I may have blogged about it. I can’t remember. Honestly, I thought it was a one-off spoken by a not-so-great person, but here we are again—guilt-shaming for reading. Now, I’m wondering what is really going on. Here’s what happened. Warning: This involves the messiness of a relationship and obviously a literacy hater.

A female friend who most would consider an extrovert began a semi-romantic relationship with an introverted older man. Yes, the statement is already problematic. Let me clarify. The female, Jane (not her real name, but why not refer to her by the name of a writing pioneer, Jane Austen?), met Edmond (as in Edmond Dantès before he assumed the alias of the Count of Monte Cristo—you know, because Edmond couldn’t read). The “relationship” hadn’t advanced as far as “dating,” although Edmond had made it clear that he wanted it to. However, due to conflicting schedules, the two hadn’t been able to make that happen. They’d had to settle for mostly phone conversations and texting.

Whether Jane is truly an extrovert is questionable. She has a job that requires her to behave as one, and an intellect that allows her to intelligently speak on many topics. She can be quite garrulous. However, in her downtime, she can be quiet and enjoy alone time. People who do not know her well often only see the social side of her, and when she’s quiet, they assume she’s upset about something. One outstanding characteristic Jane possesses is that she can carry on a conversation. She’s the type of person you invite to a dinner party to prevent awkward silences. She has a way of making people feel comfortable. Again, this is part of her job. Likely, it was this characteristic, along with her bedroom voice and sarcastic sense of humor, that drew Edmond to her.

Edmond, a retiree, spent his days caring for his elderly mother until she passed away. Understandably, this left a large void in his life, especially since he lived with her. He spends his days doing mostly nothing. He runs the normal errands (grocery shopping, washing the car, finding people to do repairs and lawn work around the home, paying utility bills, etc.) Reportedly, he has no hobbies and has a somewhat rocky relationship with the majority of his family. He also gives exudes Eddie Haskell vibes—always seeking a shortcut or scheming while trying to appear innocent. He’s a master of throwing boulders and concealing his callused hands.

So, enough background.

The trouble began after Jane completed a project she’d been working on in her spare time after her nine-to-five for over a year. The project didn’t go exactly as planned, and Jane was highly disappointed. Edmond wasn’t supportive. In fact, he behaved (in my opinion) as if he were happy about it. Although this is purely speculation, the circumstantial evidence is as follows.

First, Edmond never appeared to take a genuine interest in Jane’s project. Despite not being able to share specifics about the project due to contractual obligations, Jane shared what she could. Often, Edmond would interrupt or shut her down by abruptly changing the conversation. In my opinion, this demonstrated Edmond’s disinterest in the project.

Second, the project made demands on Jane’s time, which meant less time Jane had to spend with Edmond. While I’ll admit his wanting to spend more time with her is understandable, it’s also childish to a certain degree. Most people who want to become attorneys have to dedicate long hours to studying and attending classes. Few just walk up to the bar association without any preparation or formal training, take the bar examination, and pass it. As an adult, he should have recognized that it would take time. It wasn’t like she was partying in bars or running all over town with friends. He knew exactly where she was and that she was working as quickly as she could.

Three, Jane had a goal with her project, and she had effectively communicated that goal to Edmond. He’d informed her that he understood, but he never exhibited any support for her pursuing her goal. Towards the conclusion, when the deadline was approaching, Edmond complained that Jane was too focused. He would interrupt her while she was working and sulk or attempt to begin an argument. If she complained because a part of the project had not gone as planned, he was the first to encourage her to quit. He even went as far as telling her that she wasn’t mentally strong enough to handle the pressures of the project.

After the failed project, Jane was in the dumps, and Edmond carried on as if nothing had happened. Mind you, this project had been a lifelong dream, and watching a dream die can be excruciatingly painful. Jane’s confidence in herself was severely shaken, especially since she didn’t have a definitive answer for why the project failed. She had major choices to make about her life and future. Should she try again, try something different, or give up? Eventually, she decided she needed a break—a pause to regroup. And since the world around her seemed terrible, she sought to escape in books.

Jane is a prolific reader, and she decided to expand her reading experience by trying new genres. And guess what. It worked in bringing her out of her glumness. She was shocked that she had discovered a new love, and she wanted to share it. Initially, she asked Edmond to buddy read. After a few weeks of hum-hawing and ho-humming, he brushed her off without manning up and giving her a direct answer. He came up with excuses of being busy, pretended he’d forgotten, or went to his famous go-to of changing the subject. He questioned by she enjoyed reading and insinuated that she read too much.

Then, one day, Jane mentioned finding someone else to be her reading buddy, and you’d think she threw a dart in his eyeball. He accused her of…well, I’m not sure what exactly. However, whatever it was, he made it to be her fault and that she was somehow belittling him. He made her love of reading all about him. When she explained that she wanted to discuss the books she read with someone, he told her she could discuss them with him.

And here is where it becomes twisted.

Previously, when Jane had talked about her current reads with Edmond, he’d not paid attention or changed the subject. More often than not, he’d interrupt. He’d complain that Jane was too long-winded and want her to jump to the ending. When she did, he wouldn’t understand and have questions—the same questions Jane would have answered had he not interrupted her. She’d try to explain, but eventually, the story would become jumbled and hard to follow for someone who hadn’t read it. Jane pointed this out to Edmond and stopped telling him about her current reads. But this led to another issue.

Edmond had made several statements that he wasn’t interested in hearing about Jane’s nine-to-five. He became jealous if she talked about her friends, especially her male platonic friends. He wasn’t familiar with current events and didn’t follow sports. Politics were taboo. But remember, he was an introvert and didn’t work. He expected Jane to begin and maintain all conversations. However, when Jane inquired about his day, he’d make a few short statements, often brief with not much to elaborate on.

Jane eventually grew quiet. And then came the accusatory questions. “What’s the matter?” “Why are you upset?” “Is there something you’re not telling me?” “There has to be something wrong. You’re not quiet for no reason?”

After some time attempting to nonconfrontationally navigate the situation, Jane confessed that she felt as if she was talking to herself and that the relationship was deteriorating. Edmond sulked but promised he would do better. He didn’t. What he did was after he went through his uneventful day, he would ask Jane about her current read. He’d remain quiet while she talked. Admittedly, this was an improvement from the interruption. However, he still seemed bored, and Jane knew he wasn’t understanding some of the more complicated plots, despite laughing when she had laughed.

Then, it really hit the fan.

A book Jane preordered and waited for months was finally released. Excited, she devoured the book in a single day. (Prolific reader.) In her words, “It was soooooooo guuuud!” And like many book lovers, she wanted to discuss it because “I have thoughts.” But when Edmond asked her about it, she didn’t want to talk about it with him. Why? Because with him, it wouldn’t have been a discussion. A discussion would involve a back-and-forth dialogue. What Edmond offered was a lecture situation, where she would do all the talking and he would half pay attention. If she was lucky, he might have paid attention long enough to regurgitate a comment. When she refused to talk about the book, he began hounding her as to why she wouldn’t. Eventually, she explained, and he fell off the deep end.

Here’s what amazed me when I was enlightened on the conversation. He was insulted because she read books. Yes, you heard it here, folks. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to discuss a book. In fact, he took the stance that only she wanted to talk about books and “normal” people didn’t. He also stated that his “listening” was a “discussion” and that Jane was being an elitist (he didn’t use that term, probably because he doesn’t know it) for refusing. He said she thought she was better than him…all because she reads. He made her feel bad because she wanted to share her love of books.

Back in the day (and I mean way back before the printing press), books were expensive and rare. Not all people were given the right to read, and had to learn in secret. Now, there are so many opportunities to read (many for free), and people choose not. Reading has gone from being a privilege, to a right, to a necessity, to a four-letter word. Make it make sense.

One of the reasons Jane is a wonderful conversationalist is due to reading. She’s learned a lot from books and has developed an expansive vocabulary. She’s able to speak intelligently about many topics because of what she’s read. She’s creative and isn’t afraid to think outside of the box. She can relate and empathize with people who are vastly different from her. She’s the wiz at Trivia Pursuit on game night and the “expert” her coworkers seek when there’s a sticky situation. She is flexible and divergent in her thinking.

The true irony is Edmond insists he likes Jane for her personality. Jane’s personality was partly shaped by reading and books. Yet, he shames her for reading.

Do you know anyone like this? Have you ever heard of this type of situation? Have you ever experienced this type of read-shaming? What do you think about Edmond? What do you think about Jane? Let me know your thoughts and opinions in the comments below.

Demon Rodeo

If Brokeback Mountain, 8 Seconds, Poltergeist, and Supernatural had an orgy, Demon Rodeo would be the lovechild.

Demon Rodeo is available now on Amazon. For video book trailers, visit my TikTok page. The full blurb is on my Instagram and Amazon.

Demon Rodeo is the first book in the Chasing the Buckle series but can be read as a standalone. It’s a friends-to-lovers romance set in the rodeo world. These are not your typical cowboys. It’s a widely diverse cast of characters and a mashup of genres that aren’t always seen together. If you’re looking for a palate cleanser, this may be a book for you.

Order
⇨ Amazon: https://readerlinks.com/l/4174852
⇨ All Stores: https://books2read.com/u/bP8RG7

*Note: All of my books can be purchased from brick-and-mortar bookstores (e.g., Barnes & Noble, Book-A-Million, etc.) as well if requested at the checkout counter.)

Until next time, happy reading and much romance. Laissez le bon temps rouler.

If you’re not following my blog, Creole Bayou, what are you waiting for? There’s always room at the bayou.

NEWSLETTER! Want to get the latest information and updates about my writing projects, giveaways, contests, and reveals first? Click here and sign up today.

Want to chat about writing, mental health, Cajun cuisine, Creole culture, or just spill some tea? If yes, let’s get connected. Follow me on one of my social links. There’s plenty to choose from.

LOCKER ROOM LOVE

Locker Room Love Series

Are you searching for a sexy book boyfriend? You’ve come to the right place.

  • Out of the Penalty Box (book #1) One minute in the box or a lifetime out.
  • Defending the Net (book #2) Crossing the line could cost the game.
  • Ice Gladiators (book #3) When the gloves come off, the games begin.
  • Penalty Kill (book #4) Let the pucker begin.
  • Future Goals (book #5) The future lies between a puck and a net.

About the Author

Hi, I’m Genevive, and I am a contemporary sports romance author. My home is in South Louisiana. If you like snark and giggles with a touch of steamy Cajun and Creole on the side, I may have your poison in my stash of books. Drop by the bayou and have a look around. The pirogues are always waiting for new visitors.

Open Contests
Sunday, June 22nd, 2025

Open Contests

Be sure to check out these posts and enter to win the prizes that are still up for grabs:

  1. Gabbi Grey: I have an addiction… (Contest–2 Winners!)This one ends tomorrow! Two winners will receive a FREE audiobook!
  2. Saturday Puzzle-Contest: AI Software & Spaceship in Candy LandThis one ends on Tuesday! Win an Amazon gift card!
  3. Memory Game: My Favorite Beverage (Contest) — This one ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
  4. Gabbi Grey: Dipping my toe into the enemies-to-lovers trope… (Contest)This one ends soon! Win a FREE eBook or audio book!
  5. Happy Juneteenth, My Messy Desk, & a Health Update (Contest)This one ends soon! Win an Amazon gift card!
  6. What brings you joy? (Contest) — Win an Amazon gift card!
  7. Saturday Puzzle-Contest: Romantic Gestures — Win an Amazon gift card!
Saturday Puzzle-Contest: Romantic Gestures
Saturday, June 21st, 2025

UPDATE: The winner is…Tara Leavitt!
*~*~*

I know that not everyone has been involved with someone who was good with romantic gestures—gifting flowers outside an obligatory holiday or special events (birthday/anniversary/Valentine’s Day), strolls along a beach, whatever. Plus, not everyone would define a romantic gesture in the same way. A man making dinner before a woman arrives home from work or cleaning house when he’s not asked to would rate pretty high with me! My daughter would likely say building a chicken coop to support her dream of raising chickens definitely counts. LOL

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me about what you would consider a romantic gesture and/or share one you’ve experienced in your life.

What brings you joy? (Contest)
Friday, June 20th, 2025

UPDATE: The winner is…Katherine Smits!
*~*~*

I have been painting. Not every day, like I’d prefer. Some days, I’m just tired and prefer to work on my bucket list of old movies and TV shows I want to consume before…you know. I should be writing, but finding that joy has been harder while I get accustomed to new medical protocols and regaining my old vigor (it’s going to happen!).

This little piece makes me smile so much that I framed it and placed it next to my bathroom mirror so I could see it when I wash my hands or brush my teeth. I like the colors. I like the worried expressions on the fishes’ faces. Plus, I painted it fast—always a win for me. I like to see “the end” of a project, so something quick is a big win for me. Pure joy.

For a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card, tell me what brings you joy!