I learned of missionary teacher, Maria Fearing, this year while posting Black Presbyterian facts during Black History month. Once again, I came away awestruck by the resilience and determination of another 19^th century African American woman who refused to let circumstances or the dictates of others determine her destiny.

Maria was born enslaved on the William O. Winston Oakhill Plantation in Gainesville Alabama on July 26, 1838. She served as a house slave there.  She learned bible stories and about missionaries in Africa alongside the children of her owner. Thus, were planted the seeds for what she hoped and dreamed to do with her life if she gained her freedom.

After emancipation, her father, Jesse, took the surname Fearing for his family from a former owner. She learned to read and write when she was thirty-three years old and became a teacher through the Freedman’s Bureau School in Talledega, Alabama.

In 1891, Maria responded to an appeal for volunteers from the presbyterian African American missionary, William Sheppard, to work in Luebo, the Congo (now Zaire). However, she was rejected by the denomination because of her age, fifty-six. Undaunted, she went anyway as a self-supporting missionary in 1894, thanks to her own finances and support from the women of a local congregational church.

She labored in Luebo for two years before finally receiving full missionary status and a salary. While there, she learned the Baluba-Lulua language and helped to translate the Bible into it. She also founded the Pantops Home for Girls. The Home provided shelter and support for orphaned girls and girls she helped rescue from enslavement. She continued there for more than twenty years, finally retiring from the mission field at the age of seventy-eight.

She returned to Selma, Alabama, where she taught in a church school until age ninety-three. She never married or had children and died in 1937 at the age of ninety-nine. For her achievements, she was inducted into the Alabama Women’s Hall of Fame in 2000.

In her poem, “Still I Rise,” Maya Angelou describes herself with the line “I am the dream and the hope of the slave.” Maria’s story proves that not all slaves left their hopes and dreams to be fulfilled by future generations. Once freed, she lived out her hopes and dreams in her own time. She made her life her legacy.

In the face of societal attempts today to erase the achievements of people of color and women of all races from American history, I’m proud to be among those spreading the accomplishments of women like Maria Fearing far and wide.

Contest: For a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card, leave your impression of Maria and/or other women like her that you know of in the comments.

Put It In A Book
Inside Stranded: A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology

Trapped in a book by a sorcerer for rejecting his sexual advances, an ex-slave’s daughter discovers her one hope of rescue – a nosy thief.  

Excerpt:

A multiple volume encyclopedia stood on shelves at chest level in a far corner. Morlu would want his wealth within easy reach. Sekou pulled down the first volume and rifled through the pages. Paper currency of all types fluttered to his feet like leaves whirling from the branches of bombax trees in winter.

Clever, Dibia. But not clever enough.

Sekou chuckled and rifled through volume after volume. By the time he reached Z a pile of money lay on the floor. He scooped the cash into his swag sack, laughing quietly at his haul.

He thrust the last volume back into place, knocking a slender manuscript off the shelf.

The Story of Aziza.

He recognized the title of the book with which Morlu had taunted him. He picked it up, fanned the pages with his thumb. A sigh drifted past him. Startled, he crouched and looked left then right. Only the night breeze disturbed the silence. He fanned through the pages again. This time a scent – light like rain, sweet like honey – graced the air.

He stared at the face of a withered old hag on the book’s cover. The image had repulsed and fascinated him. The gaze in her eyes shone with intelligence and defiance, so unlike the villagers lionizing the dibia at this moment.

Sekou opened to the flyleaf. There the image of a black beauty stared back at him. Her skin was as smooth as the hag’s was wrinkled, but the same intelligent defiance shone in her eyes. He traced the outline of her chin jutting forth with pride.

“So, ladies…” He feathered his fingers along her full lips then examined the woman on the cover again. “To which one of you does this story belong?”

Buylink: Amazon – https://amzn.to/3dLd9rM

I will begin this post with a plea and disclaimer: Please don’t shoot the messenger. I understand that the topic may be polarizing for some. I write from a place of nonjudgment and, to the best of my ability, objectivity.

It has long been said that authors should not read reviews because reviews are for readers and not authors. Should an author violate this golden rule, they are warned to never interact with any poster or make comments on the thread. I won’t say that I disagree with this…for the most part. I agree reviews are for readers and not authors. I also believe any author reading reviews should only do so if they have a thick skin. Negative reviews (whether valid or not) are all part of the writing gig, and every reader has a right to have and voice his/her opinion. Also, authors should avoid commenting regardless of how egregious he/she believes the comment is. In short, book review sites should be viewed as readers’ safe spaces.

However… There is a reason authors may reader reviews, and it may not be for reasons many people think. Here’s the real tea. Some authors read reviews not to stroke their egos (although I’m sure some do) but to hear the voices of their readers. That’s right. Many authors want to know their readers’ opinions whether it’s good, bad, or indifferent. And they may not hear what readers are saying unless they go to review pages, and here’s why.

If a book is getting slammed or trashed (or the opposite—praised and all kinds of accolades), the author may want to know what about the book is working or not working; what to fix the next time around, and what to keep doing. I know; I know. I hear you. That’s what beta readers are for. Yeah, but…

I heard someone make a very eloquent argument regarding this very point. He/she argued that if authors want to know what’s wrong with their books, they should get more beta readers. However, he/she omitted something extremely important. Actually, I’m willing to bet it wasn’t an intentional omission. Rather, I don’t think the person making the argument knew what I’m about to say. See, many authors who are traditionally published do not get to select their beta readers or how many. That is done by the publisher, and this occurs after the manuscript is completed by the author and has entered the publishing house editing phase. It is edited by professional editors and then given to betas.

Second, some publishers do not allow authors to share their work with betas other than the ones selected by the publisher. And it makes sense. It makes no sense to have betas read it before it’s edited. The version the betas read may differ from the final version the publisher approves. For example, entire scenes or characters may be deleted. Betas need to read the draft as it nears its final form.

So, when the reviews of a book are different than the feedback given by betas, the only way the author understands what is happening is by going to the source. The source is book review sites. That is where authors bridge the gap between readers and betas.

Oh, did someone ask about ARC readers? Okay, here’s the skinny on that. For traditionally published writers, ARC readers are receiving the final version. This means the book is in production, and changes cannot be made at that point. So, using ARC reader feedback for future reference is perfect. But again, as with beta readers, for traditionally published authors, most ARC readers are selected by the publisher. The number of ARC books the author is allowed to give is limited.

Now, let’s put this into a scenario. Jane is a traditionally published author. Her publisher selects 20 betas. All the betas give excellent feedback (excellent in that they point out mistakes, issues, inconsistencies, and give valid/poignant feedback. Jane listens to this feedback and tweaks the issues. The book is then sent to 10 ARC readers who give Jane mostly positive feedback. Then, the book is released, and it is dragged in the reviews. Jane is baffled as to why. To find the answer, she reads the reviews. If she doesn’t read the reviews, there is a risk she will never know what went wrong. Low and behold, what she reads in the reviews is nothing that has ever been mentioned by editors, betas, or ARC readers. The author is in the dark. The only way for her to step into the light is to read the reviews.

By far, the biggest issues occur when the author interacts, and there’s a disagreement in opinions. All I can say is that authors are people, too, and sometimes emotions get the best of them. But I did hear one person express that authors have “all of the power” and it’s a “punch down” if they respond negatively to a reader. This is really only the case if an author is well-established and has a large following. When negative reviews are left for less established or new authors, the impact and affect is more devastating.

Remember grades back in school? If a student has 4 tests and makes 100, 100, 100, 40, his/her average is 85. If another student makes 98, 98, 98, 95, 95, 95, 95, 95, 95, 95, 40, 40, his/her average 86.5 or 87, which is slightly higher. When there are only a few scores, each one matters a lot. With lots of scores, a bad one gets lost in the crowd. In short, if you’re baking with just 4 ingredients, one bad spice ruins the whole dish. But if you’re cooking with a dozen ingredients, that one odd spice barely changes the flavor.

So, when it comes to less established or new authors, the power dynamic usually isn’t in their favor. It truly is in the hands of readers who can very easily destroy their writing careers before it starts, especially if what is expressed is incorrect, malicious, or done by bully. And while this is not a justification for authors to interact/respond on review threads, it is to dispel the ideology that authors have an “upper” hand in the balance between the reader-author relationship.

For authors, writing is their job. They put their creative effort (a.k.a., their babies) out there for the world for readers to consume. Many times, it opens a vulnerability, and it’s difficult to watch (especially to do so quietly) one’s hard work being ripped to shreds, especially if unduly so. It’s difficult not feel the need to defend. Yet, this is the position authors must take. It is an accepted liability when an author publishes a work that it becomes fair game. They are expected to handle criticism (and should) professionally. So, this isn’t to ask for forgiveness for those authors who have violated this or acted poorly, but it is to ask that maybe they be shown a tad bit of grace for being human with a full range of emotions who may have in the moment gotten into their feelings. Authors love their readers (all of them). Without readers, authors are… Fill in the blank.

Much love and respect to all readers.

And that’s all I’ve got for today. Now, it’s your turn to sound off. Let me know your thoughts below in the comment section. Your feedback allows me to know the content that you want to read. And if you like this post, consider clicking the like button and sharing.

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.

• Facebook: Genevive Chamblee
• Instagram: genevivechambleeauthor
• TikTok: CreolegurlNola
• Bluesky: Genevive Chamblee
• Threads: Author Genevive Chamblee
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• Amazon Authors: Genevive Chamblee
• Goodreads: Genevive Chamblee
• X (formerly Twitter): @dolynesaidso

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.

UPDATE: The winner is…Debra!
*~*~*

Langston Hughes wrote this about Jesse Redmon Fauset in his memoir, The Big Sea, “Jessie Fauset at The Crisis, Charles Johnson at Opportunity, and Alain Locke in Washington were the three people who midwifed the so-called New Negro literature into being.”

As I learned more about Ms. Fauset for this blogpost, I believe mother is a more accurate title for Jesse since she was the first to publish the work of many Harlem Renaissance luminaries, including Hughes, and literally gave birth to their careers.

She was born Jessie Redmon Fauset on April 27, 1882, near Camden, New Jersey, the seventh child of Rev. Redmon and Mrs. Annie Fauset. She grew up in Philadelphia and graduated valedictorian from the Philadelphia High School for Girls. The school’s valedictorians traditionally received scholarships to Bryn Mawr, but Bryn Mawr president, M. Cary Thomas, raised money for Fauset to attend Cornell University instead.

In addition to her degree in classical languages from Cornell University in 1905, Fauset received a Master’s degree in French from the University of Pennsylvania (1919). She also spent summers studying at the Sorbonne in Paris.

Until 2004, she had been mistakenly cited as the first black woman accepted into the Phi Beta Kappa society. That honor belonged to Mary Annette Anderson, the subject of my June blog post.

Fauset became a teacher at M Street High School in Washington, D.C., which was renamed in 1916 to Dunbar High School in honor of poet Paul Laurence Dunbar. In 1912, she began contributing poetry, short stories, reviews, translations, and essays to the NAACP’s magazine, The Crisis.

In 1919, W.E.B. Du Bois offered her the position of literary editor, where she worked until 1926. She introduced new talents and especially championed the works of women like Zora Neale Hurston, Nella Larson, and Alice Dunbar-Nelson.

Fauset was also the editor and co-author of the African American children’s magazine The Brownies’ Book from 1920 to 1921 where “children of the sun” could learn to appreciate their heritage.

Disgusted by white authors’ stereotypical depictions of African American life, she published four novels that offered authentic portrayals of the black middle class’s experience: There Is Confusion (1924), Plum Bun (1928), The Chinaberry Tree (1931), and Comedy, American Style (1933).  

Once she left The Crisis she taught in New York City public schools from 1926 until 1944. In 1929, she married businessman Herbert Harris and remained so until his death in 1958. She then returned to Philadelphia, where she died from heart disease on April 30, 1961.

A portrait of Jesse painted by Laura Wheeling Waring (subject of my May blog post) is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington D.C.

For a fascinating look at Redmon’s life and times in Harlem, read Victoria Christopher Murray’s historical novel Harlem Rhapsody.

I continue to stand in awe of women like Jessie Redmon Fauset. I hope one day to leave a legacy that inspires others the way her example inspires me.

Contest: For a chance at a $10 Amazon gift card, share your thoughts on Jesse and women like her in the comments.

“The Patience of Unanswered Prayer”
by Michal Scott in Cowboys

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.

Buylink: https://amzn.to/3zfDpo2

Excerpt:

So, this was how one got to heaven, in the arms of a beautiful black angel. Or was it Jesus himself? Eleanor had made a game of memorizing images of blackness from the Bible. A description from the Book of Revelation surged to the fore.

And his feet like unto fine brass, as if they burned in a furnace; and his voice as the sound of many waters…His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire.

This had to be heaven. Where else would she find a fine Black man with hair like wool – not white but black shot through with threads of gray and silver – with wonderfully hairy arms to be her cushion? She’d never experienced the ecstasy now ablaze between her thighs on earth.

This had to be heaven.

A different kind of fire burned along her shoulder. She hissed against the pain.

Pain in heaven? Perhaps the transition from the earthly to the heavenly came with pain at first. Like having a tooth pulled. Ache and pang overwhelmed until a peace settled.

Like the peace of surrendering to the patience of unanswered prayer.

Back in my day—cos, yeah, I’m old as dirt now it seems—literature was a required course in high school. By literature, I mean the classics: To Kill a Mocking Bird, Of Mice and Men, The Old Man and the Sea, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, The Great Gatsby, The Crucible, The Scarlett Letter, Animal Farm, Where the Red Fern Grows, The Catcher in the Rye, The Canterbury Tales, The Iliad, The Odyssey, Beowulf, Lord of the Flies, Flowers in the Attic, Waiting for Godot, and anything by William Shakespear. My high school prided itself on using the Stanford University reading list as a guide for our literature classes. The teachers stressed that reading these books would help us become well-rounded and develop critical thinking. I’ll be honest. Back then, I didn’t know what that meant or where I would use any of this information; therefore, I took their word for it. But it was no hardship because I liked reading. I like literature, even the Old English that was like plodding through mud at times. I remember being one of the only students in my literature class to get the jokes of The Canterbury Tales without the teacher explaining them.

Later in life, when I became a parent, the belief that learning literature was beneficial stuck with me. Soon after learning to read—and even before if I’m honest, cos audiobooks are a thing—I began loading my child’s Kindle with the classics. When we went to the library—which was every two weeks, but sometimes weekly—I insisted that she get at least one classic. And our library was really excellent at having many of the classics (e.g., Where the Red Fern Grows, Moby Dick, and The Outsiders) in watered-down versions easily digestible for youths and younger children. I was proud of myself for being a responsible and studious parent. That is, until I bumped into the son of the daycare owner.

Things happen for a reason. Decent daycare was hard to find, and affordable daycare was nearly impossible. So, when a situation occurred, and I had to switch daycares, I was more than stressed. But as luck would have it, a new daycare was opening. In fact, my child was the first to enroll there. And it wasn’t any daycare. The owner had a vision to treat it like a school, but not like a preschool. In the summer, daycare was full-time, but during the fall, only after-school care was provided. Thus, all attendees were school age. Furthermore, the attendees were divided into three groups (by age), and every two weeks, there were themes. For example, two weeks would focus on the American Frontier. All field trips, books read, movies watched, and activities would be based on this theme. Each room of the daycare was designed like a specialized classroom. For example, one room was designated for science and one for math. In the math room, the kids might engage in activities to calculate the number of days it would take a family traveling in a prairie schooner to travel from Boston to Salt Lake City, or (after a panning for “gold” activity) how to weigh gold and calculate how much it was worth. The idea was to get the kids to learn without them knowing they were learning. I loved it, and so did my kiddo actually. However, there was one rule that made this information pertinent to this post.

The kids had an hour of downtime to do whatever they wanted during the schedule. Of course, handheld game systems (hello, Nintendo) were popular. Due to concerns that the video games might get lost, broken, traded, or stolen, they were prohibited. This meant the kids had to find other ways to entertain themselves during the downtime. I sent books. This is when the owner’s son, who was in college at the time, informed my child that reading the classics would not help her in school or make her smarter. He went on to say that reading them was a waste of time. Because of him, my child became disinterested in the classics. I was livid.

Now, do I have proof that what my teachers said to me all those years ago is true? Nope. At this point, did I even care if it was true? Not really. Did I double down and go full-barrel on this young buck, that he didn’t know what he was talking about? Absolutely!

So, what were my arguments for reading the classics?

• Developing Critical Thinking: Classic literature often presents intricate characters, ethical conflicts, and multi-layered narratives. Exploring and analyzing these elements encourages readers to think more deeply and critically about human behavior, motives, and societal issues.
• Expanding and Building Vocabulary: Many classic stories use rich, precise language and varied sentence structures and diction. These elements can broaden one’s vocabulary, enhance reading comprehension, and improve writing skills.
• Emotional Intelligence and Empathy: By encountering a wide range of diverse characters from various cultures and historical periods, readers can develop empathy and a more nuanced understanding of the human experience
• Lessons in History: Classic literature frequently reflects the values, struggles, and worldviews of the time in which they were written. They may give readers a perspective and understanding of different historical periods and social contexts.

It is my understanding that many current grammar and high school educational programs do not require or even teach literature as an elective, and I think that’s a real shame. It makes me wonder if something is lost in how modern readers read.

I look at the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. Now, I know for many people she’s very polarizing. However, no one can deny that she has sold a lot…and I do mean a lot…of books. She has a very dedicated fan base. Just one internet search proves this. But what I’d like to focus on is how many videos discuss the meaning in the smallest of details. Are all of them intentional? In my opinion, no. That doesn’t take away meaning from or lessen the stories, though. On the contrary, it shows that readers are looking for a deeper meaning.

But in today’s contemporary romances, are those symbols and small details appreciated? Or are they overlooked? Do readers take the time to read between the lines, or do they require everything to be blatantly explained? Is symbolism in writing even noticed, or does it require too much thinking? If published today, would books like Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? or A Raisin in the Sun be successful and appreciated?

So, why is symbolism in writing important?

• Adds Depth and Layers of Meaning: Symbolism allows writers to convey complex ideas in subtle, nuanced ways. A single object or image can represent multiple themes, enriching the text beyond its surface meaning.
• Encourages Critical Thinking: Interpreting symbols requires readers to think analytically and read between the lines, fostering deeper engagement and interpretation skills.
• Connects Themes and Ideas: Symbols may serve as unifying threads throughout a story to help tie together characters, themes, and plot points in meaningful ways.
• Represents Universal and Timeless Concepts: Symbols often represent universally recognized ideas that are widely understood, making the story more meaningful and relatable across historical periods and diverse cultures.
• Encourages Personal Interpretation: Symbolism allows readers to bring their own experiences and perspectives to the text, leading to varied and personalized interpretations.
• Dang Good Storytelling: Symbols contribute to the overall mood of a story. For instance, a rising sun can symbolize hope, new beginnings, or enlightenment, or dark weather can symbolize doom or despair. These ideas can shape how the reader feels while reading. Additionally, instead of stating themes outright, authors use symbols to “show” meaning through images, actions, or settings. They can evoke emotions more powerfully than direct statements.

That’s a wrap on today’s topic. Now, it’s your turn to sound off. What did you think? What is your take on the subject? Do you agree or disagree? Did you find this information helpful or informative? Did you learn anything new, or did it change your opinion? Let me know your thoughts in the comments section.

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.

• Facebook: Genevive Chamblee
• Instagram: genevivechambleeauthor
• TikTok: CreolegurlNola
• Bluesky: Genevive Chamblee
• Threads: Author Genevive Chamblee
• BookBub: Genevive Chamblee
• Amazon Authors: Genevive Chamblee
• Goodreads: Genevive Chamblee
• X (formerly Twitter): @dolynesaidso

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 puckery 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.

UPDATE: The winners are…Dana, Colleen, BN, and Cindy!
*~*~*

Before I wrote bounty hunters, I wrote about vampires…

Knight in Transition

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

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

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

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

Get your copies here!
Night Fall Series

How it begins…

The small sign in the café window read: Welcome Vampires and Sanguinarians! (No blood products provided—none permitted on premises! The Management).

Joe Garcia snorted. Every human in the place was a walking, breathing blood product — a portable soda fountain for the Fanged Ones.

He pushed through the glass door and tried to dampen the hope that rose in his chest, causing his heart to beat faster and his hands to sweat. Thusfar, he’d met only disappointment in his long search. This might be just another dead end-the last one he could afford before his cash ran out and his credit card was maxed.

Professor Carlson was his last hope.

Inside the cafe, enticing aromas assailed him. The smell of roasted coffee beans, which had been his life’s blood in another existence, was overlaid with the tangy scent of the real thing-the warm, viscous red stuff. The latter reminded him he hadn’t fed this evening, and hunger gnawed at his belly, making him edgy and irritable.

And something else enticed him. Something dark and sensual perfumed by a female musk with a tincture so unique it immediately sent a curl of heat to his groin.

He walked past the coffee bar without acknowledging the barrista’s greeting and wound his way through the tables, ignoring the human appetizers. His gaze was fixed on a menu board at the entrance of a roped-off area in the back, that read, “Vampire Survey Here”. An arrow pointed down to a table laden with a stack of pamphlets.

He brushed past the table, searching the back of the restaurant for his quarry.
“Sir, are you here ’bout da survey Professor Carlson is conductin’?”

Joe turned toward the voice flavored with a deep Louisianan accent. A pleasant-faced girl with black corkscrew curls all around her head sat at a table near the cordoned entrance.

He bit back the rude retort that immediately came to mind and answered, “Yes. I need to speak with her.”

“Well, you’ll have to complete a screenin’ survey first,” she said pleasantly but firmly, holding up a stapled document.

Joe sighed and accepted the papers. What the hell? Five more minutes wouldn’t kill him.

“Do you have a pencil?” she asked. When he shook his head, she gave him a superior smile and extended a short, sharpened pencil.

Joe didn’t like her attitude one bit, so he reached for her hand, running his fingers over her palm before taking it.

Her smile slipped and Joe could well imagine her thoughts. Another vampire wannabe was hitting on her. He smiled and let her see his teeth.

Her eyes narrowed and a single brow rose. She wasn’t impressed.

That actually gave Joe hope he was in the right place after all. His sharp fangs hadn’t fazed her.

“You can take a seat with the other guy,” she said, indicating the first booth along the back wall.

Joe walked over and slid across the vinyl seat opposite a young man dressed in black leather and sporting no less than five facial piercings. The piercings glittered like tinsel in the dim light and Joe wondered how the kid could stand leather in May-New Orleans was already sweltering, even at night.

Turning over the top page of his survey, Joe quickly scanned the questions. He hoped like hell they were only meant to screen out the weirdoes and pretenders. Otherwise, he was screwed.

He wet the tip of his pencil on his tongue and read the first question.

“Do you consider yourself a Vampire or a Sanguinarian?”

Since he had no clue what a Sanguinarian was, he checked, “Vampire.”

“If you checked ‘Vampire’, skip to question 6.”

Maybe this wouldn’t take so long after all.

In the middle of the page, he found 6. “How often do you have the urge to drink blood?”

He checked the block beside, “More than three times a day.” Three times a night would be more accurate.

“How often do you drink blood?”

“Once a day.”

“Do you drink your own blood?”

“What would be the point?” he muttered, and checked “No.”

When he reached the question, “Do you drink blood during sexual encounters?”, he’d had enough.

He tossed the survey to the table and started to rise.

“She won’t see you unless you finish the survey,” Metal Boy said, without looking up from his form.

“She’ll see me.”

The young man’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “You’ll have to wait your turn. I was here first.”

Joe lifted his lips and showed him his fangs.

Metal Boy smirked and then lifted his lips, displaying a whole row of sharpened teeth.

Joe took a quick glance around the café to make sure no one was near, and then leaned over the table and shook his head. He let the change come over him, reveling for once in the wildness that surged in his veins as the bones in his forehead and brow shifted, and his skin stretched tightly.

The boy’s eyes widened until the whites symmetrically framed his irises. “I-I’ve just thought of somewhere else I need to be,” he said, and quickly scooted off the seat and ran for the exit.

Satisfied that vamping was good for at least scaring the shit out of punks, Joe took a deep breath and relaxed, feeling his face reform to his human mask. Then he headed back to the girl with the wild hair.

“I’ll see her now,” Joe said, not even trying to conceal his impatience.

“Have you finished dat survey?” she asked, her nose buried in her Cosmo magazine.

When he didn’t respond, she raised her eyes.

Something in his expression made her hesitate. “I’ll see if she’s free.”

Joe smiled grimly. “You do that.”

She was back in a moment. “Professor Carlson’ll see you now. You left your survey on the table, but I gave it to her.”

He followed her to the farthest corner of the café, toward another booth. A green lamp suspended over the table lent the corner a warm glow. When he drew alongside the green vinyl seat, the girl indicated he should sit and promptly left. Joe turned his gaze to the figure seated on the opposite bench.

His research had told him the professor was considered an expert in vampire lore. She’d written papers, magazine articles, and books, and even been consulted by more than one movie producer. When he’d typed “vampire expert” in the Internet search engine, her name had popped up everywhere.

All his research told him she might hold the answer, but it hadn’t said anything about how young or drinkable she was. Her hair was neither blonde nor brown, but the warm color of whiskey. Her eyes, hidden behind a pair of wire-framed glasses, glinted cognac. Her lips were a pale rosé.

The hunter within him woke.

Realizing he’d been staring, he cleared his throat. “You’re Professor Lily Carlson? The author of ‘Vampires: Myth and Reality’?”

Her gaze swept over him. An action so swift, he thought he might have imagined it. “And you are?” she asked, leaning over the table to extend her hand.

Joe froze. That indefinable scent was all over her. He had the urge to rub on her like a kitten in catnip. He eyed her small hand, afraid to touch it and feel the blood humming below the surface of her creamy, white skin. He was that close to jumping her. “I thought the survey was anonymous.”

“Oh, it is,” she replied quickly, withdrawing her hand. “You’re responding to the ad, then?” At his nod, she looked vaguely disappointed. “Well, I suppose I should review your answers. Please have a seat,” she said, waving him toward the bench seat opposite hers. “Thank you for taking the time to help me with my research.”

Bemused, Joe slid onto the seat. He knew he should get straight to the point, but he stalled. For just a few minutes, he wanted to be with a woman while she looked at him as if he was just like any other man. Well, perhaps like he was a man with a serious mental disorder. But at least, she wasn’t recoiling in horror or inspecting him like the Bearded Lady at a freak show.

Not that she was a great beauty, nor even as strong and fierce as his ex-partner Darcy. Dressed in a boring-beige suit, her whiskey-colored hair piled in a loose knot on top of her head, and her glasses sliding down her shiny nose, she looked like the schoolmarm she was. But while all the beige and brown should have made her look muddy, she glowed golden in the lamplight. And her scent—richly textured with something wild and animalistic—was extraordinary.

The woman opened his survey and glanced at his answers, then flipped the page. Her lips pursed for a moment, drawing his gaze to her full lower lip. “There are a few more questions I need answered. Do you mind if I learn a little more about you?” she asked, glancing up at him from beneath her gold-tipped lashes.

The surge of heat that centered in his groin was way out of proportion to her innocent question. Afraid he’d stutter over a tongue that suddenly felt too large for his mouth, he merely nodded.

“You understand the questions I’m about to ask you are part of a sociological study I’m conducting about our vampire subculture?”

Again, he nodded.

“All information you provide,” she recited as if from rote, “will be completely confidential. I hope you will answer me honestly,” she gave him a doubtful stare, “or to the best of your ability.”

She looked expectantly at him, so he nodded again.

Her gaze returned to his survey, and she cleared her throat. “You…are a vampire?”

“Yes.” This was the first time he’d admitted that fact out loud, and he knew how ridiculous it sounded.

“So, are you a Psy or a Sang?”

“There’s more than one kind?” Joe asked.

“A Psychic vampire feeds on a human’s energy; a Sanguinarian is a blood-drinker.”

“I guess I’m a Sang.”

“You drink blood once a day?” she asked, her head still bent over the paper.

He shrugged, hoping she’d glance up at him again so he could see whether her eyes really were a warm, golden-brown. “More or less.”

She scribbled something in the margin of his survey. “Well, which is it?”

“Sometimes more.”

“Do you drink human blood?”

Joe wished she’d end this line of questioning, or he’d be drooling shortly. Her scent had every appetite revving into high gear. “Yes.”

She glanced up from the survey. “How long have you had the urge to drink blood?”

“Since I woke up, tonight.”

She blinked. “No, I meant…since ever.”

ALL THE NIGHT FALL BOOKS!

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*~*~*

I blame Delilah.

Don’t get me wrong… she hasn’t committed any crimes (that I know of 😉 or done anything bad. It’s simply the fact that I’ve grown to reeeeeaaaally love the reading and writing of short stories. And it’s all her fault.

For those who may not know, Delilah graciously organizes an annual short story anthology, the Boys Behaving Badly series, each year with a theme. Each anthology boasts stories written by a diverse array of authors, covering the theme with an imaginative range of story ideas that are all panty-meltingly hawt.

A satisfying relationship, happy-ending, and a money-shot all in the time it takes me to eat lunch? Yes, please!

So, one year, I decided to submit a story. As a Sci-fi Romance author, I was accustomed to writing books of over 95,000 words. Imagine having to shoe-horn world-building, species-building, character-building, and a creative love story (with sex!) into only 5,000 words. That’s like moving all of Buckingham Palace into a one-bedroom apartment.

That’s what we writers consider one helluva writing exercise.

It certainly worked writing muscles I didn’t know I had. And the post-workout soreness is as much a reality for writing as it is for physical exercise. But I kept going. Honing, editing, questioning every single word choice for maximum impact and efficiency, streamlining character development to its most essential… and my story was accepted!

The experience was such a challenge, with what I felt were lasting benefits to my own full-book skills, that I continued to submit to Delilah’s anthologies. Four anthologies later, and I’m addicted. While I still love writing full-length stories, I also love writing short stories. Please don’t ask me which I prefer to write, because that’s like having to choose between my own children. I love them equally, although I might like one better than the other at times.

I now love writing short stories so much, I just published my own bundle of short stories. Fathoms Below is my trilogy of mermaid-y short stories filled with Disney easter eggs and drenched with romance. Each story is a self-contained love story, and I thoroughly enjoyed getting to my characters’ HEA within 18,000 words rather than waiting for 35,000 words, or more!

And I “blame” Delilah for that. 🙂

Contest

I’ll gift a Kindle version of Fathoms Below to a randomly-chosen winner from everyone who comments on this post. Feel free to weigh in on your preference: full book or short story?

FATHOMS BELOW

Under the sea, Atlantia’s mer-creatures are devoting full time to floating… and falling in love.

“Better Where it’s Wetter” — Ariel LaRue assumes the sexy merman pictured on the lake house is “just art.” Then a violent storm topples her into his arms, and she discovers the ocean isn’t the only thing that gets her wet.

“Kiss the Girl” — Mako, a young Sharkanian General, knows there’s more to life under the sea than hunting for food and waging war with the Atlantians. But he struggles against his own predatory nature until a gentle mermaid calms the savage hunger of his heart and tames his sharp bite.

“Poor Unfortunate Souls” — Ursule has an uncanny knack for problem-solving which has earned him the grim moniker Sea Witch. Unfortunately, it doesn’t prevent pesky merpeople from approaching him with their problems. Until two captivating eel-maids invade his lair, wishing for nothing more than his company. And his talented tentacles. 

“Part of his World” — Eric’s Epilogue. Prince Eric wasn’t always royalty. For that matter, he wasn’t always a merman.

Get your copy now! FREE in KU!

 About Ava

Ava Cuvay is an award-winning bestselling author of out of this world Sci-fi and Paranormal Romance featuring sassy heroines, gutsy heroes, passion, adventure… and the word “moist”. She resides in central Indiana with her own scruffy-looking nerfherder and teen kiddos who think her “Rizz” is “cringe” but she “passes the vibe check” and her books “hit different.” No cap. She believes life is too short to bother with negative people, everything is better with Champagne, and Han Solo shot first. Star Wars references are her love language.

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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.

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

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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.