Go take a gander at my author page on the Self Publishers' Showcase website. it's pretty nice and has my author logo. I am a hybrid author at the moment which works for me as they do accept authors who are with smaller presses and who need promotional aid. http://www.selfpublishersshowcase.com/p-j-dean
An excerpt from Kindred, An American Love Story
Dr. Twain grabbed his case. Just then Kindred and Lelaheo crashed through the front door, arm in arm, chattering rapidly to each other in Oneida and English.
“Just the people I wanted to see.”
“Really, Douglas?” piped Kindred.
“How so, Douglas?” added Lelaheo.
“It is a day full of inoculations. I will need both of you to assist me. Joshua is busy with the accounts, so I can devote all of our time to this.” Douglas opened his bag. “Umm, not nearly enough. Lelaheo, go fetch more needles and thread. Kindred and I will wait for you outside.” Lelaheo rushed off to the surgery, Dr. Twain and Kindred proceeded out the door.
Now 18 years of age, Kindred was fully a woman. A little taller than the average female, and of less than average weight, she warranted a second look. She always kept her coal black, mass of springy hair in two braids and tucked them under a neat, cotton, head wrap. Soaring cheekbones tested the elasticity of her clear, medium brown skin. Vivid, deep-brown eyes, under ebony lashes and brows, dominated her short nose and full mouth with its even teeth. Due to her endless movement and boundless energy, she’d cultivated a resistance and vigor at odds with her slightness. She climbed up into the rig with Dr. Twain’s assistance, settled her simple green cotton dress about her and waited, hands folded in her lap. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the scent of the new grass. Tipping her face to the sky, she watched a flock of ducks fly overhead. Everything had a purpose, she ascertained, even them. Granny and Joshua ran Twainhaven. Dr. Twain had his profession and Lelaheo assisted in the surgery and had his sights set on following in the doctor’s footsteps. What is my purpose? She maintained the apothecary and served as nurse to Dr. Twain when needed. She helped her granny. Is that all my life is going to be? When in town, she observed wives and mothers. Would she ever wed and have children? She sighed loudly.
“Kindred, is something awry?” asked the doctor as he adjusted the reins.
Just my future. “No, Douglas. Only day dreaming.” If he only knew. Something was awry. She wanted a future badly. With Lelaheo. Kindred’s mouth curved into an unaware smile as Lelaheo approached. She could not believe it. When had he developed into this magnificent male specimen? When had she started to take note? She had always loved him, but when had she fallen in love with him?
Her heart’s desire carried himself with nonchalant grace. He was the same age and height as Joshua. Where Joshua was heavily muscled, Lelaheo was lean and sinewy. But no less a prime model of manhood. She knew firsthand because she had fetched enough hot water over the years to fill the tubs he and Joshua would wash up in after chores. She had poured enough water over that body and had watched more than enough suds slip down his gleaming torso and disappear into regions unknown. Silly and serious by turns, he was a mix of boyish and manly. Dressed to match, and to accompany, Dr. Twain, he wore a periwinkle waistcoat, white lawn shirt, fawn-colored knee breeches buckled over white stockings and boots. The men differed in grooming and accessories. Instead of a stock, Lelaheo wore a bone, bead and leather necklace bearing the Tree of Peace symbol of his people. He eschewed the tricorn hat and went bare-headed and wore his straight, ink-black hair in a queue down his back, secured by a leather tie. A leather belt, slung low about his hips held a hunting knife.
“Kinny, what are you grinning about?” Lelaheo asked, placing three muskets, ample powder and shot into the back of the rig and then vaulted up into it.
“Nothing.” She waved her hand. “Just recalling an amusing story.”
“Care to share?” he poked her in the back with an index finger and started to tickle her.
“No!” She half-turned in her seat. “Stop it!” She giggled and evaded his hands. “You never know when to let well enough alone. Stop!”
“Children!” Dr. Twain shouted. “We are late. Did you bring everything, Lelaheo?”
“Yes, Douglas.” Lelaheo stuck his tongue out at Kindred.
“Let us be off then. We have much to do.” Douglas snapped the reins and the bays turned away from Twainhaven’s entrance.
Still half-twisted in her seat, Kindred rolled her eyes at Lelaheo, then faced front.
“They gonna get stuck that way one day, sister,” Lelaheo chuckled and settled into a comfortable spot for the ride into town.
An excerpt from DISSENT As the marriage between Awa and Blaise is for business only, and she was engaged previously but was given to him, this scene shows the couple's very awkward, tense introduction.
Out in the packed, airless corridor, Rama and Yoro were in deep conversation with some acquaintances. Other courtiers, waiting hours for an audience, paced back and forth in rumpled finery, played cards or slept. Amid all this, Awa sat on a bench against a wall with her nurse. “You will remain with me after I am wed, will you not?” She twisted and untwisted a handkerchief around an index finger. “They cannot part us, can they?” “I shall always be near.” The nurse hugged Awa. “You have put on an extremely brave face so far. Buck up now. Do not let it be said the Diops have no backbone.” “I am certain it is said already. Papa offered me up without a second thought.” “I am positive that is not true. Get through this next step.” Ngoné held the girl’s face between her hands. “Remember, I shall be with you.” “The Diop contingent!” a palace official shouted, strolling the foyer. “It is time,” Yoro said, gesturing to Awa and Ngoné. Awa took her place, breathing deeply to stave off lightheadedness. When she entered the room, all eyes fixed on her as she glided past the sea of courtiers. She walked gracefully, fixing on the dais at the end of the hall. Just short of her destination she looked off to her right and saw René. While they lingered in their private moment, she failed to hear her parents present her. “Mademoiselle Awa? Mademoiselle?” Charles inquired softly. The room’s occupants again held their breaths, waiting for her response. Realizing the King had addressed her, Awa curtsied quickly. “Your Highnesses,” she squeezed out. “How nice of you to rejoin the living. Welcome.” Charles addressed his mother while drinking in Awa. “She is the same as when I last laid eyes on her. Unparalleled. Do you not agree, Madame?” “Yes, unparalleled.” “You flatter me, Your Graces.” “Your fiancé has longed for your arrival,” the King proclaimed. “Come forward and meet him at last.” As she ascended the platform, a looming figure approached from her right when she reached the top step. “Mademoiselle Awa, I am Blaise de Coligny,” the figure said, while capturing and kissing her right hand. Staring down at how his act reminded her of a predator taking down prey, Awa swallowed hard and raised her face to meet a pair of green eyes. She’d never seen a Huguenot up close before. Not to say they should look any differently than any other European. But with all the discord flying about how different they were, she was positive there’d be some identifying features, but there was not a one. In front of her stood a tall, frightfully attractive Frenchman. That was all. He just was not René. “Mademoiselle, are you well?” Awa swore it had grown hotter in the great hall. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, but her brow was cool. She continued to stare at him, dumbstruck. This man was easy on the eye, but he just was not René. “Mademoiselle?” “Yes-s-s?” Awa answered, endeavoring to move a leg forward to steady herself. Those two and a half goblets of wine on an empty stomach had chosen to work its wicked now. Faces around her blurred; she heard young Coligny address her again. “Mademoiselle, did you hear me? Do you know who I am?” “Of course I heard you! I am not deaf! As for do I know who you are, you are not René. You are a stranger and a heretic!” Blaise flinched as if burned and released her hand. Awa watched the room’s edges dim and darken. She smiled as blessed blackness engulfed her, and she crumpled to the floor in an elegant, sonorous heap.
Read the continuation of my eye-opening, no-holds-barred interview on the diversity boondoggle in romance publishing I started with Heather Massey on the "Heroes and Heartbreakers" website. The SciFi Romance Quarterly took the rest of my post. I thank SFRQ because no other blog had the intestinal fortitude to print it. BUT...I'm sure they all read it. WINK! WINK! I see you! http://www.scifiromancequarterly.org/2016/09/pj-dean/
07/12/2016 I took part in an article discussing the marginalized writer in Scifi Romance on today's "Heroes and Heartbreakers" website. The post is a collaboration between blogger Heather Massey (who pens scifi herself, mostly steampunk) and myself. The post nods at black female writers of SFR and gives seldom awarded credit to us and the fact we hold our own against ANY "mainstream" writer of SFR get spotlighted due to the uneven playing field in romance publishing. We are legion. And we aren't going anywhere! http://www.heroesandheartbreakers.com/blogs/2016/07/thank-heaven-for-sci-fis-diverse-romance-creators
GAMBIT, book 5 of my Sci-fi series, THE FELIG CHRONICLES, released 4/1/2016 by eXtasy Books. The 4th book, PARADOX, in my PNR series won 2ND RUNNER UP in the Sci-Fi category of the 2015 Swirl Awards and my historical, KINDRED, AN AMERICAN LOVE STORY won the BEST HISTORICAL in the Historical category of the 2015 SWIRL AWARDS!
Visit the beautiful website of my Extasy Books colleague, Sabrina Devonshire, an exceptional author of the erotic and exotic.
Peruse the engaging, vibrant website of author Camille Leone and delve into her world of IR/multicultural/Sci-Fi/paranormal/fantasy romance. Also visit her companion site, RED, the showcase for everything current in the IR realm of romance.
Looking for a new voice in contemporary romance? Spend some time with a writer whose take on love involves some resemblance to real life. Visit the very easy to navigate site of Rebecca Rogers Maher.
Stop by the mesmerizingly beautiful site of romance author Evi Asher. Visit her on Facebook too.