Delaney Diamond's Blog, page 8

Delaney Diamond Presents: An interview with Marcia King-Gamble

In this episode, I interview Marcia King-Gamble about Naughty in New York, a holiday romance novella a holiday romance novel about a female executive who’s given up on love and is surprised when her new boss is the man she had an affair with almost two decades before. Marcia talked to us about her overseas adventures as a travel executive, what she thinks makes a great romance novel, and who she would cast as the leads in a movie based on her book. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this one!

Other books mentioned in this episode: His Golden Heart and Just You by Marcia King-Gamble and The Rules by Delaney Diamond.

Use the icons to share this interview with a friend.If you haven’t already, pick up a copy of Naughty in New York!Listen to more interviews at podcast.delaneydiamond.com.

Is there a top secret process authors use to name their characters?

The simple answer is no. But there is a process!

Sometimes naming the characters is easy, and I know right away what a character should be named long before the story is written. Other times, I could be halfway through writing a novel before I settle on a name.

In those instances, I use a placeholder. Something simple, like Jack or Jane that I can then replace with the final name using Find + Replace All in my document.

How I name my characters

So if there’s not a top secret process, how do I decide on character names? Glad you asked! There are three main ways.

One is to use the names of friends and change the spelling. When I was writing Just Friends, I knew the heroine would have a sweet nature to contrast against the hero’s playboy ways, and I wanted her name to reflect that. I had a friend in elementary school named Alana. That’s the name I settled on, but I changed the spelling to Alannah.

Another thing I do is refer to a list of baby names on the Internet. In my interracial romance An Unexpected Attraction, the hero is Italian. I wanted a strong-sounding name and preferably one I hadn’t heard often. I hit up Google for Italian boy names and came across a list that included Jacopo. It’s not a name I’ve heard often, and it conveys strength, so I settled on that one for the hero.

Another way I pick names is by the meaning. In Queen of Barrakesch, the Arabic Wasim means “handsome” and “graceful,” and I thought, Yes! That’s the perfect name for the hero. Then I worked the meaning of his name into the story.

How other authors name their characters

But what about other authors? How do they name their characters? I asked some of my author friends to share their process with me.

Constance Gillam writes interracial mysteries, suspense, and romcoms. She’s been researching her ancestors for several years, which has provided a wealth of names to choose from. She said, “To pay homage to them, I occasionally use one of their names in a story. For example in my historical, Lakota Moon Rising, the female protagonist is named after my 2nd great-grandmother, Julia.”

DL White writes warm Southern women’s fiction and steamy romance featuring Black men and women. Her characters almost always come to her with a name, but sometimes she sees a person on TV (or a nameplate on a door as she walks by at work) and thinks, “oh I like that name” and tries to remember it or write it down. “Leslie from Curl & Dye came to me because I was ear hustling a conversation on the way out the door. I heard a woman say she had a salon appointment, and her name was Leslie. By the time I got home the premise had written itself in my head.”

Fiona Zedde writes passionate Black romance—mostly contemporary, occasionally historical, and always packing heat. When I asked how she names her characters, here’s what she said: “I get most of my character inspirations from the places and streets I visit. One of my all-time favorite characters is Garrison Richards from Snowy Mountain Nights. I named him after a street near my mom’s house.”

Sharon C. Cooper writes contemporary romance, romantic suspense, and romantic comedy. She said, “I often name my characters based on the personality I envision for them. For example, in Operation Midnight (Reunited series), Cameron “Wiz” Miller is a tech genius and private investigator able to hack into any computer or network system with the ability to find answers to any question.”

For Stephanie Nicole Norris, author of Black, swoon-worthy, stimulating romance, choosing names depends on the story. For example, one of her current series is The Royals of Kera Asnela. They’re African Royals, so she researched African men’s and women’s names. “I also checked the meanings of some names because I wanted to incorporate those meanings with the character development. In other cases, I search for strong male names or take names I think are solid and put them in a name generator to create a unique name.”

So there you have it. Six authors. All with a different not-so-top-secret process for naming the characters you come to care about and fall in love with.

Did any of these answers surprise you?

Delaney Diamond Presents: An interview with Elle Wright

In this episode, I interview Elle Wright about The Way You Love Me, a contemporary romance novel about a super star actress who finds love with the man who’s been by her side for years, her agent. Find out what Elle hopes readers get from her novels, why she likes writing close-knit families, and her favorite scenes in the story.

Other Elle Wright books mentioned in this episode: Ten Christmas Shots, The Forbidden Man, It’s Not Me It’s You, Basement Level 5: Never Scared. 

Use the icons to share this interview with a friend.If you haven’t already, pick up a copy of The Way You Love Me!Listen to more interviews at podcast.delaneydiamond.com.

A taxicab connection

I tossed around the idea of this scene for a while. I finally decided to write it. 

Summary: Immediately after a painful break up, Erica meets a man who makes her feel much better. Could he be her next love?

Photo by Alejandro Luengo on Unsplash

She was done.

After hiding in the bathroom for five minutes, Erica rushed out of the restaurant without saying goodbye to Simon. Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she hurried down the stairs and waved her arm wildly to capture the attention of the yellow cab coming her way. The driver pulled to a sudden stop in front of Bella Blu, a high-end establishment with a prix fixe menu and a waiting list two months long.

“Erica, wait!”

Simon’s voice came loud and clear behind her as she yanked open the cab’s back door. She quickly climbed in.

“Go, go!” she begged, voice quivering.

She didn’t turn in the direction of the restaurant, but she did hear Simon yell her name one more time as the vehicle pulled away from the entrance.

“Where to, ma’am?”

She gave the driver her address. Once he had gone a full mile, the tension oozed from her body, and she relaxed into the leather seats and gazed at the passing night time scenery.

It was over. Two years down the drain.

“Are you okay?”

His warm, low voice caught her attention. Concerned eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. Eyes that momentarily stunned her with their liquid brown beauty.

“Yes,” she answered.

Then, as if the question had broken through her protective shell, her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes filled with tears. Those tears overflowed onto her cheeks, and she angrily wiped them away. Humiliated, she sniffled and kept her eyes lowered.

“Here you go.”

The softly spoken words were followed by a tiny box of tissues that appeared in front of her. Her eyes met the driver’s in the mirror again. 

Erica took the box. “Thank you,” she said in a hoarse voice.

She removed several tissues, dabbed her eyes, and blew her nose. 

After a few minutes, the driver cleared his throat. “Want to talk about it?”

She stared at her lap. “Not really.”

He didn’t respond, and the silence suddenly seemed louder and untenable. He was being kind, and his kindness nudged her to share, to get the weight of the night’s trauma off her chest. “I ended a relationship.”

“Male or female?”

“Male.”

“What did he do?” he asked in a resigned voice.

That prompted a smile, albeit a very small one, from Erica. “How do you know it was his fault?”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.” She swallowed the painful lump in her throat and continued. “Tonight was our two-year dating anniversary. He’s been out of town for two weeks on business, so he said. Right before our dinner date, I received a call from a woman who said she’s been having a relationship with him for the past six months. She lives in Cincinnati, where he’s been traveling to for work.”

“Damn. But why did you go to dinner with him if you knew about the other woman?”

“I guess… I don’t know. I didn’t want to believe it. Hoped it wasn’t true. Silly, I know.” 

“I don’t think that’s silly. I think that’s pretty normal. What did he say?”

“Denied it. Then I showed him the screenshots of texts she sent me.” 

They had both sent explicit messages about what they wanted to do to each other when they were apart, as well as recalling the tawdry details of their sexual exploits when they were together. Equally hurtful were the messages Simon sent complaining that he wasn’t happy and how much he missed the other woman. 

“What did he say when you showed him the texts?”

Erica released a little laugh. “He still denied the relationship, but he has a tell. Whenever he lies, his nostrils flare. They flared a lot during our conversation.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

He couldn’t be more sorry that she was. She had been devastated.

She took a good look at her driver. He seemed around her age, early thirties. Dark copper skin, and those kind, beautiful brown eyes. With a trimmed beard and a deep voice, he was kind of attractive. He wore a black hoodie and had large hands with long fingers gripping the wheel, but she couldn’t see much more than that from the backseat.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, shocking herself that she asked such a question. Hopefully, he didn’t consider it inappropriate.

He shook his head. “Nah. Haven’t had a girlfriend in over a year.”

Surprising. Since he apparently didn’t mind the question, she continued to get up in his business. “Why not?”

They bounced over a pothole, and Erica gripped the door as the cab swerved. 

“Sorry about that.”

“That’s okay.” Erica straightened her skirt and crossed her legs. 

“I broke up with my last girlfriend because her parents didn’t approve of us. She’s wealthy, and I made a bad financial decision a few years ago, so money is kinda short.”

“You have to explain that. What happened?”

“I’ll give you the condensed version. I went into business with a so-called friend. His credit was jacked up, so I signed all the loan documents because I had good credit. When the business fell off, he left me high and dry. I thought we were in it together, but apparently not. Since my name is on all the paperwork, I was left with all the debt for a business that no longer exists, and now I’m stuck driving taxis part-time to pay off the loans and maxed out credit cards.”

“That’s terrible.” She could never understand how people could be so cruel. “So you were trying to be an entrepreneur.”

He nodded. “I believe we could have turned the business around if my friend had stuck with me through the difficult period. I explained to him that a lot of businesses don’t turn a profit in the first year or so, but he wouldn’t listen. Guess he was looking for quick money. Anyway, because I was struggling financially, I told my girl to move on. I can’t support the lifestyle she’s used to, and her parents were threatening to cut her off because I’m not exactly the kind of man they had in mind for her.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yeah.”

“But not as much as you should,” Erica guessed.

Their eyes met in the rearview mirror again. 

“No,” he answered honestly.

The cab fell into silence. The roadway was busy on a Friday night, but not too busy. Looking at the cars and buildings passing by filled her with sadness. She should be sitting at Bella Blu, finishing her lobster and scallop dinner with a glass of champagne, while celebrating two years with the man she loved. Instead, she was prematurely on her way home, heartbroken and wondering what to do next.

Her phone vibrated, and she removed it from her purse. A missed call from Simon. And she’d missed two texts from him, apparently. 

Text one: I know you don’t want to talk to me right now, but when you calm down I can explain.

Text two: It was a mistake. She meant nothing to me.

There it was, an admission of guilt. Erica pressed her lips together, fighting the ache in her chest. At least he was no longer denying the affair. She assumed she and Simon would eventually marry, but clearly that was not the case. She could never trust him again.

Another message popped up on the screen. Please answer. We need to talk.

Erica powered off her phone and slipped it into her purse. “Do you mind making a small detour?” she asked.

“Not at all. I’m on your time.”

“Get off at the next exit and make a left at the fork. There’s a doughnut shop on Eighth Avenue. It should still be open.”

“Oh yeah, I know the one you’re talking about. Donut Parlor. It’s open. On Fridays and Saturdays they stay open until ten.”

She smiled, oddly pleased he knew about the shop. “They have the best cake doughnuts,” she said.

“Yeah, they do. Don’t sleep on their glazed, though. You know which one is my favorite?”

“Which one?”

“The Nutella with Oreo cookie sprinkles.”

“Oh my goodness, they are the best.”

He chuckled at her breathless enthusiasm. “No doubt. Have you ever had their breakfast? The sausage, egg, and cheese biscuits are freaking delicious. The biscuits are so flaky, and they use two eggs, so it’s very filling.”

“No, I haven’t. I’m not usually on this side of town, but based on your recommendation I’ll have to make a special trip one day.”

“You won’t be disappointed, trust me.”

Minutes later, he pulled in front of the shop, and Erica went inside. She placed her order and returned to the taxi with a box of six doughnuts.

As they pulled away, she bit into a cake doughnut and let out a soft moan. There were few problems in life a box of freshly made doughnuts couldn’t fix. For the moment, she looked past her devastating night and enjoyed the simple pleasure.

Scooting forward, she held the open box over the front seat. “Want one?”

He glanced at the box but shook his head. “No, I’m good.”

“You sure? The Nutella with Oreo cookie sprinkles has your name on it.”

He groaned. “Now why did you do that? I’m watching my figure.”

Erica giggled. “It’s okay to cheat just this once. You can make it up tomorrow.”

“I like the way you think.” 

He took the doughnut, and she handed him a napkin.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

They spent the rest of the ride in easy conversation, and she learned he repaired computers in his day job. She shared that she taught third grade and came from a family of teachers.

They ate another doughnut each, and a few times he made her laugh out loud. When he pulled in front of her house, she felt a little sad, as if she was about to be separated from a good friend. 

That’s when she realized she didn’t know his name. Her gaze found his posted identification. Robert. The name fit him.

“How much do I owe you?”

“Twenty dollars and nineteen cents.”

Erica frowned, certain he was wrong. She checked the meter. “We drove much more than that.”

“I turned off the meter when you went into the doughnut shop.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “Why?”

Robert shrugged. “Guess I was enjoying the company.”

The words warmed her heart but also sent a small thrill through her bloodstream. Was she attracted to this guy? Definitely. But maybe it was too soon to be thinking in those terms. She had broken up with her boyfriend less than an hour ago.

She handed Robert at twenty and a ten. “Keep the change.”

He turned in the seat. “No. Come on…”

“I enjoyed the company too. You made a bad night better. Have a good one.”

Erica climbed out the vehicle and walked to the front door of her townhouse. Once inside, the taxi pulled away from the curb. She flipped on the lights and kicked off her heels. Placing the doughnuts on the counter, she realized with a start that she was smiling. Despite the painful dinner and the revelation that the man she loved had been cheating on her for at least six months, she ended the night in a good mood. 

She transferred the doughnuts to a glass container and poured herself a glass of wine. Strolling barefoot into the living room, she stopped in front of a photo of her and Simon on the fireplace mantle. A bout of nostalgia hit her in the chest. Her lower lip trembled, but she quickly shoved off the desire to cry.

She knew the truth now, and eventually she would get over him. 

She turned the frame face down and took a gulp of wine.

Tomorrow she would pack up his belongings and leave them on the porch for him to pick up. She never wanted to see or talk to Simon again.

The doorbell rang.

Erica frowned. That better not be Simon. If so, she would give him a piece of her mind.

She set down the glass of wine and marched over to the door. Peering out the peephole, she drew a sharp breath when she saw Robert standing outside.

She opened the door. “Hi. Did I forget something in the car?”

As far as she could remember, she had her purse, phone, and the doughnuts.

Looking at him head-on, she was struck even more by the beauty of his eyes. But not only that, he had great posture and a muscular build beneath the hoodie and jeans. About six feet tall, his height would require her to raise up on tiptoe if she wanted a taste of his very attractive mouth.

Heat filled her cheeks. Where did that thought come from?

“No, you didn’t. I came back because I figured since we both enjoyed each other’s company, and I found you really easy to talk to, then…” He extended a white business card.

Erica took it.

“That’s my card with my cell number. I’d like to take you out sometime. I can’t afford Bella Blu at the moment, but I can take you to a more moderately priced place, and on the nights we don’t go out, I grill a mean steak. So, whenever you’re ready to start dating again, call me.”

Erica couldn’t suppress the wide grin that overtook her face. “I will.”

His face broke into a full grin too. “I’ll be waiting.”

Oh my.

Robert walked away.

“Robert!” 

He paused halfway to the cab.

“My name is Erica.” She sounded breathless, her heart rate kicking up a notch.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, I’ll be waiting, Erica.”

She watched him climb into the taxi and drive away.

Walking into the living room, her attention locked on the card in her hand.

Who knows… he might not have to wait too long. 

___________

Hope you enjoyed this short! By the way, do you think it’s too soon for Erica to dip her toes back in the dating pool? Especially since Robert has financial troubles?

Book Blitz & $25 Giveaway for Monica!

I’m getting lots of love for Monica and Andre’s story! Many of you have told me how much you enjoy Andre, Phin’s hilarious cousin. You want to know what’s next for Monica’s parents—Benicio and Rose. And of course, you loved Monica and Andre’s relationship and thought, as one reader put it, their “heat was off-the-chain.”

Thank you for all the positive feedback and every written review. Keep them coming!

Also, be sure to enter the giveaway. Xpresso Book Tours has organized a blitz for Monica, and one lucky winner will receive a $25 gift card. Thank you to all the participating bloggers and authors who’ll be posting about my book all week. I appreciate you!

Readers, enter the giveaway via the link or widget below. Best of luck to you!

Copies of Monica can be purchased here

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Alternative scene for Princess of Zamibia (Part 2)

This concludes the excerpt of alternative scenes for Princess of Zamibia. If you missed the first part, start here. Enjoy!

(Unedited)

Kofi returned to the palace later than he planned. The negotiations did not go smoothly, and he had been anxious to return to Dahlia. At one point his mind wandered, and he was brought abruptly back to the present by his aide, who looked curiously at him through his glasses.

Wrestling his thoughts under control, Kofi refocused and gave his attention—as much as he could—to the visiting chieftain and his council. He was already irritated that he even had to be in this meeting. Other villages had made concessions and his presence had not been needed to ensure that changes progressed smoothly. However, this particular man was obstinate, and it was clear he was trying to hold out for as much money as possible.

In the end, they agreed to reconvene the next morning. Kofi informed them all that regretfully, he would not be able to attend because of a prior engagement, but he assured them that he would stay in close contact with his aide.

It was no one’s business that the prior engagement would be spending time with his wife. A new chapter in the relationship with his wife was unfolding, and he could not wait to see what would happen next. He looked forward to waking up with her in his arms the way they woke up this morning. She was warm and soft, her brown body snuggled up against his, her lashes gracing her smooth cheeks as she slept soundly next to him. It had taken every ounce of discipline he’d garnered through the years to leave the warmth of her sweet body and get up to get ready for the meeting.

After the meeting, he tended to some other business while he was in the office, and as quickly as he could he left the office behind and headed back to the outskirts of the capital.

It was mid-afternoon when he arrived back at the palace, and once there he stopped at the vault to remove a piece of jewelry. The diamond and ruby necklace glittered in his palm, as if letting him know he had made a good choice. Each ruby was encircled by diamonds. He would present the gift to her, and then later they would make love while she wore only the necklace. That thought hastened his steps to the apartment he shared with Dahlia.

He entered his room, but she wasn’t there. Then he entered her bedroom, but it was empty, too.

Where is she? he thought.

He was as excited as a child on Christmas morning, except instead of opening a gift, he wanted to give one.

Then he heard her enter from her bathroom. He turned, and his eyes drank her in. She wore a green silk robe that was flattering against the color of her skin, and she had undone the twists and pressed her hair straight, so that it lay against her shoulders in a silky curtain.

“You’re back,” she said softly.

In two strides Kofi was at her side and swept Dahlia up into his arms and kissed her soundly. “I stayed away too long,” he murmured against her lips.

When he allowed her to catch her breath and set her back on her feet, Dahlia asked breathlessly, “Are you hungry? The cooks prepared your favorite dishes.”

“I would much rather eat you,” he whispered fiendishly, nipping at her neck. She had obviously not too long ago taken a bath, and the fresh clean smell of her skin filled his nostrils with every breath he took.

She laughed and pushed away from him, although she seemed reluctant to do so. “You have to eat something that will give you energy,” she said firmly.

Grasping one of his hands, she headed toward the balcony with him in tow. He watched in appreciation as her luscious hips swayed beneath the silk of the robe.

Once outside, the spotlight of the early afternoon sun illuminated the entire courtyard, but the overhang above the balcony protected them from its rays. It was a warm day, but it was still too early in the season for the stifling heat that could blanket the country in the tropical climate.

“I checked with the servants, and you didn’t have breakfast before you left this morning. And I know you, Kofi, so I’m sure you spent all those hours in your meeting and never stopped to take a bite. You get so caught up in your work that you don’t eat. You need to take care of yourself.”

His face softened as he pulled her close to nibble on her ear. “That is why I have a wife—to keep me in line and help take care of me.” He found her lips briefly again, and then sat in one of the chairs. “Of course, I must now question the loyalty of my servants, since they seem to have no qualms about divulging my eating habits to my wife.”

“Only because they love you,” Dahlia said saucily, “like—” she looked shocked for a moment, as if she were about to say something she shouldn’t, then caught herself and finished in the same light, teasing voice. “Like they should. Their loyalty is to you, and they have your best interests at heart.”

She went inside, and he heard her call down to the kitchen to have the meal brought up.

He reached for the velvet case inside his pocke, but decided not to remove it. He would wait to surprise her. Part of his excitement was in knowing that as his wife, he could give her anything he wanted. When they were lovers, she wouldn’t accept any of his gifts, though he tried numerous times to shower her with jewelry and clothes. She refused them, telling him over and over again she didn’t need anything from him. It only made him want her more and want to give her more.

Eventually he gave up, but he never stopped wanting to shower her with presents, and now he would, starting with this necklace. She had never seen it, refusing to open the box at the time. He’d been sorely disappointed but had accepted her decision.

One of the servants brought up the large meal on a rolling cart. The domed, gold covers were removed and everything placed on the table.

They were presented with a large bowl of chicken yassa, a tasty, lemon-vinegar dish. Mounds of jollof rice, cooked beans, and fried sweet plantains were also placed on the table. Homemade wheat bread, a spicy seafood stew, filled with fragrant herbs, potatoes, and green bananas, and warm, sweet banana bread for dessert rounded out the large meal. The food was washed down with bottles of a beer brewed locally for him, and pawpaw juice for her, made from the juice of the papaya fruit.

He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the food was placed before him, the familiar aromas of his favorite native dishes stroking his nostrils and inflaming the hunger to the point of making him ravenous. He delved into the meal with gusto, appreciative that Dahlia took such care to ensure he not only ate, but that his favorite meals were prepared.

The thoughtful gesture warmed him in places that had long been frozen solid. She seemed to really care about him, and it took him back to the days when he toured the country, with her by his side. The joy he felt during those days were never duplicated again, until today.

Even she looked happy, and he was pleased to see her so relaxed and comfortable around him, as opposed to the cold welcome he was used to receiving.

Her eyes were shining and her beautiful skin glowed. She chattered away excitedly about Noel, but she could have been talking about the weather and he would still be enthralled by what she said. Her voice was like music to his ears, and he enjoyed the soft lilt and watching her expressive eyes as she carried on the conversation with only minimal contribution from him. Nodding his head at something she said, Kofi tore off a piece of wheat bread and sopped up the gravy from the chicken yassa, wiping his plate clean before popping the tasty morsel into his mouth.

He had no doubts now that they could make their marriage successful. The agreeable meal they were sharing demonstrated that they didn’t have to be cold to each other or fight and argue all the time like cats and dogs. Like every marriage, difficulties would come, but they should be able to work through it. In fact, he was certain they could work through it.

When the meal was complete, Kofi sat back and groaned, patting his six pack abs.

“I cannot eat another bite,” he announced.

The sound of her giggling tinkled toward him on the air, one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. “You ate too much,” Dahlia accused.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he shot back, reaching for her.

She squealed, trying to move away, but not really. He easily pulled her onto his lap.

“You do whatever you want. You know I can’t stop you.”

Having her on his lap made his body come to life. “You have more power than you realize,” he said solemnly. He kissed her tenderly. She tasted like sweet papaya and smelled like heaven. “I have something for you.” He removed the square velvet case with the jewelry inside. “Open it.”

It was the first gift he’d given her since their marriage, and she gasped when she saw it. Just the reaction he wanted.

“Kofi, I love it. But why?” she asked.

“Because you are beautiful, and you should have beautiful things,” he replied, stroking a gentle finger down the side of her neck, making her shiver in response. “And because I want us to start new.”

He had had plenty of time to think about this in the car ride back, and he wanted them to have a fresh start to their marriage. They could make it work if they could both forget the past and begin with a clean slate.

“Do you mean it?”

Before answering, Kofi snapped the necklace around her neck, and it rested against her skin, looking as if  belonged there.

“Of course I do,” he said gently. “I want us to start over, as if we just got married. We need to take some time to get to know one another again, to talk, to share.” He stroked her hair, allowing his fingers to play in the soft strands. “I think we should take a trip together, the three of us, and get away from here.”

Her eyes lit up with excitement. “A trip? Where?”

“I will wrap up all my business this week, and next week I will take you to Paris, and we will spend a few weeks exploring the city so that you can have a proper honeymoon. We will walk through the Jardin des Tuileries and stroll down the Champs-Elysees with our son. We will eat dinner atop the Eiffel Tower and climb the steps of the Sacre Coeur cathedral to look out over the entire city. Would you like that, mon amour?”

It had been a long time since he had used the endearment, but it seemed appropriate at this time. The last time he used those words was long ago, during their brief, but hot affair. Today they rolled off his tongue with old familiarity.

“I would love it,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Dahlia pressed her face against his neck, and his body trembled with the current of desire that suddenly coursed through him.

His lips covered hers, and when she sighed sweetly into his mouth, his groin tightened as the blood pumped rapidly through his veins.

“Unzip me,” he groaned. He could no longer resist the urge to possess her.

He knew she didn’t like his possessive streak. She accused him of treating her like an object. He couldn’t help himself, though, he was so proud to claim her as his own. No other man would ever know the pleasure of her body. No other man would ever know what it was like to have her soft lips trickle tender kisses across his chest. He had made sure of that by binding her to him for good. She was his—his woman, his wife, the mother of his son. He couldn’t wait to get her pregnant and this time have the pleasure of watching her body swell with another child.

He could see the dark desire in her eyes. There was no more hesitation as he unzipped his own pants and pulled open her robe to his searching fingers. She straddled him on the chair and their coupling was slow, sweet, tender. Her body trembled and her gentle moans changed to soft cries.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he whispered in her ear, just before he joined her over the precipice into blinding ecstasy.

_____

Hope you enjoyed the alternative look at Kofi and Dahlia’s story. Enjoy the rest of your day!

Alternative scene for Princess of Zamibia (Part 1)

The other day I was cleaning up my computer, deleting old files and organizing documents to make them easier to find, when I came across an old manuscript for the previous version of Princess of Zamibia.

I released Princess of Zamibia (Royal Brides #1) in March 2018, but I had written a different version of the story years before, some of which I share below. Under my old ideas, there were still supposed to be three books in the series, but the titles were all based around the princes instead of the heroines. Some of the changes included:

The original title was Prince of Marunda.The hero’s name was Raphael instead of Kofi.Instead of going to graduate school in England, he studied in the United States.In the manuscript, he spoke French instead of the Zamibian language I made up.The original story was also a secret baby plot, but Dahlia had lived in his home country and had an affair with him before leaving and going back to the United States, where he later found her and discovered she’d had his child.

I changed Kofi’s home country from Marunda to Zamibia because an author friend said it sounded really close to Zamunda, the fictional African country in “Coming to America.” Though I hadn’t consciously thought about the film when I wrote the story, clearly my subconscious was at work, and I agreed it sounded way too close.

I made up a new name—Zamibia—a combination of two real African countries: Zambia + Namibia. Crisis averted! Then I reworked the storyline, and the love story of Dahlia and Kofi was born.

The text below was pulled from the old draft (I updated the names to match my published novel). In the published novel, they went from the States, to getting married, and then going on their honeymoon in Mozambique.

In the old version, they didn’t have a honeymoon. Here they’ve been married for a while, and this scene is the morning after they first made love as a married couple. There is some mild (not much) heat in this excerpt. (Be sure to click the number 2 so you can get to the next page.)

Hope you enjoy this “alternative” scene.

(Unedited)

The faint light of dawn cast a dim glow through the open windows of Kofi’s bedroom. Just enough light to allow him a good look at his wife, lying curled against him, fast asleep. One arm was thrown across his chest, her even breathing ticking his collarbone as her soft cheek used his shoulder as a pillow.

Kofi lifted one of her twists and wound it gently around his forefinger. He stilled as she moved in her sleep, rubbing her soft body against his as she resettled herself more comfortably. He watched her movement until she stopped, his blood surging in his veins as his body came alive with the need to make love to her again.

This was what he’d wanted, what he’d dreamed about when he’d seen her again in Atlanta. This was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life—waking up with her warm soft body pressed against him, her sweet smell clinging to his skin and the sheets. Perhaps he had not gone about it the best way. He felt some guilt at having used his own son as a tool to blackmail her into returning with him, but he’d had little option. If she had chosen to fight him, it could have dragged out for years. This was better, to have them both here, where he could take of them, where they belonged.

He brought her pleasure, even if she didn’t love him, and he knew that desire could blossom into deeper feelings. It was only a matter of time.

***

Dahlia’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she was disoriented before she remembered where she was. In her husband’s bed.

Stretching like a satisfied cat beneath the dark sheets, her movement halted mid-stretch as she winced when she felt a dull pain. Her back was a bit sore from the pounding Kofi gave her against the wall. Her thigh muscles ached, too, from having him arrange her legs into various positions that must have been straight out of the Kama Sutra. Her breasts felt heavy and tingled. They had grown accustomed to the ever present warm sucking of his mouth, his tongue and lips a permanent fixture that now removed left her breasts wanting and achy.

A faint smile hovered across her lips in remembrance, and she turned her head to find she was alone in the vast bed. Disappointed, Dahlia pressed her face into the pillow where he had lain and inhaled deeply, her nostrils filling with the drugging mixture of his male scent and the natural spiciness of his cologne. Heat invaded her lower body as she was reminded of the passionate night—and morning—they had shared.

Kofi had been insatiable, hardly giving her any rest. In true form, he pushed her to the limits of exhaustion, as throughout the night his demanding hands reawakened her body to throbbing life each and every time. After taking a long, relaxing shower together, it was early morning when he finally gave her a break and permitted her the luxury of more than an hour of sleep.

Rolling onto her back and groaning, Dahlia cupped her breasts to alleviate the tingling sensation that had intensified as her thoughts turned to their lovemaking the night before.

At that moment, the door to the adjoining dressing room clicked open and Kofi strode in, dressed immaculately in a black suit, white shirt, and dark tie. His proud face was cleanly shaved, and he looked as if he’d had a haircut this morning, as well. He looked clean, fresh, neat—and temptingly delicious. Like a piece of chocolate candy she wanted to sink her teeth into.

He was fastening his cuff links and looked over at her, the rumpled covers twisted loosely around her waist, her hands still absentmindedly filled with her breasts.

Dahlia watched in a trance-like state, licking her lips in anticipation as Kofi made his way across the room and sank onto the mattress. He smiled indulgently at her, and she was overwhelmed by a ridiculous feeling of shyness.

“Let me,” he whispered huskily, and then he gently removed her hands and replaced them with his larger ones. He began to squeeze and knead the sensitive flesh, the nipples becoming even harder than before, her breasts swelling into palms they knew would bring nothing but pleasure.

“You’re not helping,” Dahlia gasped, arching her body further into his capable hands.

“I’m not?” Kofi asked innocently. He lowered his head, his mouth hovering just above hers, his eyes slumberous as his own arousal began to take center stage. “Do you want me to stop?”

She didn’t hesitate. “No.”

He smiled devilishly then, his eyes shining with amusement, as well as his raw hunger for her. “I thought not.”

As he took her mouth, Dahlia recollected what she had only just admitted to herself last night. How much she loved this man, her husband.

She loved the sense of humor he had just exhibited. But she also loved the solemn side of him, the man who cared deeply for his country and his people, ensuring the have-nots progressed and were able to attain not only the necessities. The project in the rural areas had been initiated by Kofi. It was an idea that had taken root in his mind while earning an MBA in Public Health in the United States. Upon returning home, he had put his plan into motion, using the connections he’d garnered while studying abroad to initiate the multi-year plan.

She loved his hands on her body, the delicious things he did to her with barely any effort. For the past couple of years, her life had been a barren desert, except for her son, Noel. What had been missing was Kofi, and the way he brought her alive. Not just physically, but emotionally, as well. She had pushed away any remnants of feelings for him merely as a means of survival, to avoid going stark raving mad because she felt she would never experience the pleasure of being with him again.

Delaney Diamond Presents: An interview with Koko Brown

In this episode, I interview Koko Brown about Taken, a historical romance novel about an obsessed hero who abducts the heroine and whisks her away to the deserts of North Africa. Find out where the idea from the story came from, her fetishes, and my personal favorite—her pick up lines for men. You don’t want to miss this one!

Other books mentioned in this episode: Player’s Ultimatum, The Viking Wants Forever, and Jezebel by Koko Brown, Delaney’s Desert Sheik by Brenda Jackson, and my novel Fight for Love. 

Use the icons to share this interview with a friend.If you haven’t already, pick up a copy of Taken!Listen to more interviews at podcast.delaneydiamond.com.

A summer audiobook sale!

I’m having a Love Unexpected audiobook sale, and the very first book, The Blind Date is FREE! The other books in the series are only $4.99: The Wrong Man, An Unexpected Attraction, The Right Time, One of the Guys, and That Time in Venice.

Visit my online audiobook store at audiobooksdirect.delaneydiamond.com to take advantage of these prices. The sale will arrive at select retailers later this month.

Delaney Diamond Presents: An interview about Until Now and Until Death

I’m so excited to share another interview with you!

This time instagrammer/book reviewer Karen the Reader interviewed me about Until Now and Until Death, the first two books in my romantic suspense series, The Cordoba Agency. In Until Now, Cruz Cordoba is an assassin whose job is to get close to bookstore clerk Shanice Lawrence and retrieve data that has her on the run from dangerous characters. But the two end up falling in love, ultimately resulting in an HEA in Until Death—but not before car chases, explosions, and shootouts threaten their relationship!

I answered questions like Which character I hate the most in the books (If you read the books, I’m sure you can figure it out), Where the idea for some of the story came from, and How I deal with negative reviews.

Other books mentioned in this episode: Heart Stealer, Almost Perfect, Seasoned, A Passionate Love, Do Over, Private Acts, Love Unexpected box set.

Use the icons to share this interview with a friend. If you haven’t already, make sure you pick up a copy of Until Now and Until Death.Listen to more interviews at podcast.delaneydiamond.com.