It is a pleasure to be on Silken Sheets again. I have another re-release. My sexy African Ameican historical romance MIDNIGHT HEAT is currently on sale for 99 cents.
My stories are not your typical historical romances. A friend recently said that my stories are special because they teach history while showing the humanity of the characters. I love how she ignored the fact most of my romances are interracial, multicultural, or African American. Race didn’t factor in for her. Perhaps some readers make too much of a deal when it comes to race.
My stories are set before, during, and after the Civil War. Race is a factor in most of my stories, but I never try to make it an issue. I try to tell the stories as historically accurate as I can. This means that my hero in MIDNIGHT HEAT isn’t a politician or even a rich land owner. George works a roustabout loading and unloading cargo on a Mississippi steamboat. Hard labor. He’s an average working class man with relatable ambitions. He wants to fall in love, protect and provide for those he cares about.
The Civil War brought an end to slavery but Allison wasn’t set free. Still held prisoner by her master in 1868, she welcomes a fiery death as her final escape. When a passing man rescues her from the flames, it soon becomes clear he desires more than her gratitude. But Allison isn’t ready to give her trust to the tall, dark, and handsome man, no matter how proper his intentions.
George rescues Allison from the fire and intends to make the skittish woman his bride, if she’ll have him. But the stubborn woman is haunted by ghosts from the past. While he’s busy soothing her fears the ghosts turn all too real, forcing him into a final confrontation that may cost him his life.
He ambled up to an old black man with a covered wagon. The gray-haired gentleman looked kindly enough with bushy whiskers and wrinkles around his eyes and mouth as if he smiled a lot. “Where are you bound?” George asked.
The old man motioned with his head to the back of the wagon. “Moving to St. Louis. Going to live with my daughter.”
If he was moving did he have enough room in the wagon for both of them?
“Do you have room for a couple passengers?” George asked. “I can pay you for your trouble.”
“Would be a mighty tight squeeze, but you’re welcome to try.”
George looked into the back of the wagon. Perhaps if he moved the chairs around and stacked the boxes better they’d fit. “Can I rearrange your belongings, sir?”
“I reckon so. If you’re careful young man.”
“Yes, sir. I’ve worked as a roustabout. I know all about packing.” He nearly emptied the entire wagon. Watching Allison out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her shift her weight and rock in place, her body language blaring at him to hurry. After he’d filled the wagon again, he’d made enough room for one person. “I think we’ll manage,” George said.
He climbed in a lay down in the small space at the left side of the wooden bed. Allison climbed up after him and paused. “And where am I going to ride?”
“On top of me,” George said, grinning.
Allison huffed, but she eased herself on top of him without a protest.
George held back a groan. Her bosom pressed into his chest. Each thud of her heart echoed a thud of his own. With a slap of the reins, the old man got his mules moving. The wagon jostled forward and George reached around holding onto Allison’s back.
The innocent movement pressed her into him harder. He felt the heat between her legs and it brought his cock to life. Blood rushed to his nether region.
Allison’s eyes widened and she let out a tiny mewl. The well-traveled and worn dirt promised a bumpy ride. Each rut they crossed rocked the wagon inadvertently brushing George’s arousal against Allison.
George’s face burned. Perhaps the wagon ride was a bad idea. They needed to stay hidden and there hadn’t been many covered wagons to choose from with friendly looking drivers.
“Allison,” he said, “are you all right?”
“Mmm-hmm. I’m enjoying the ride.”
George blinked, her playful comment completely of character. Could it be women fell prey to the same needs men did? He didn’t know for sure. He tucked the question away for later and willed his cock to behave.
“We shouldn’t do this here.” His voice had a scolding edge he hadn’t intended. It wasn’t Allison’s fault they were both aroused. But lovemaking in the back of someone’s wagon was a bad idea.
She rose up. “Why not?”
Her question hit him like a punch to the stomach. It didn’t hurt but the shock had him gasping for breath. Was this the shy Allison he had known on the Queen Bee?
“For one, we’re not alone,” George said. “We’ll have privacy at my brother’s. We can continue this then.”
“All right. But I like being on top. Let me try that again later.” Allison lay down, scooting up higher so her head rested on his shoulder, their pelvises no longer touching.
Pulse thundering, it took several miles for George to come down from his high. What would Mr. Seever think of this? The restrained chambermaid had propositioned him. He hadn’t expected that in his wildest dreams. He didn’t want to think of his woman as a hussy. Perhaps she had just given in to her desires.
Or was she simply too overcome with fear to think straight? Hell, the closeness of their bodies was enough to turn his mind hazy. She wanted to forget about Coswell, forget about the danger.
It was the only explanation that made sense. Although if she wished to continue this at Frederick’s house, he wasn’t going to protest. Frederick hadn’t been exactly honest with him. He’d told him women enjoyed his company. But he hadn’t told him they could be wild. This manhood stuff was tricky. Thankfully, he was learning quickly.
B&N | Amazon | iTunes | Kobo | ARe | Smashwords
Haley Whitehall lives in Washington State where she enjoys all four seasons and the surrounding wildlife. She writes historical romance set in the 19th century U.S. When she is not researching or writing, she plays with her cats, watches the Western and History Channels, and goes antiquing. She is hoping to build a time machine so she can go in search of her prince charming. A good book, a cup of coffee, and a view of the mountains make her happy. Visit Haley at http://www.haleywhitehall.com