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Upcoming Release: LOVE IN THE LOWCOUNTRY: A WINTER HOLIDAY COLLECTION
Romance is heating up the winter holidays!
From paranormal to contemporary, from sweet to sultry, from first-time love to love revived, discover both dark and deLIGHTful tales of romance amidst the intriguing backdrop of Charleston, South Carolina.
Best-selling authors join exciting new debuts in fourteen original stories of Love in the Lowcountry!
Inside you’ll find my story, “A Silver Holiday,” featuring Reconstructing Jada Channing’s Aaron and Jada McKensie!
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Jada Channing McKensie has four beautiful children, a husband she adores, and an estranged father who wants to build a relationship after thirty years of silence—just in time for the holidays.
Despite his wife’s agreeing to the reunion, Aaron McKensie is against it. He doesn’t want to see Jada hurt. Yet balancing his mistrust of his in-laws and his complete love of her might take a Christmas miracle.
Plus stories from thirteen other authors, including:
Amy Quinton * Angela Mizell * Carla Susan Smith * Casey Porter * Elaine Reed * Gracey Evans * Jen Davis * Jessie Vaughn * Michele Sims * Paula Gail Benson * Rebecca A. Owens * Robin Hillyer Miles * Zuzana Juhasova
ALL of the proceeds go directly to the Lowcountry Romance Writers of America, a nonprofit organization where romance writers connect, hone their craft, and create beautiful stories.
A Favorite Word: Delight
I love the word delight. It can function as a noun or a verb, which makes it a more actionable word to me than its close synonym joy. That isn’t to say joy isn’t also a wonderful word, but just saying or thinking delight makes me smile to myself.
I think it’s because it embodies not just joy, but also pleasure, satisfaction, and happiness too. It’s a precision word choice, one that evokes a specific connotation when called to mind, a word whose meaning isn’t flattened like “happy” or, really “joy” can be.
read more…In Gratitude: Toni Morrison
I have only read two Toni Morrison novels from cover to cover: The Bluest Eye and Beloved. I cannot give the beat-by-beat plot points of either work because I read them so long ago. At least, that’s the articulable answer. The inarticulable answer is I don’t believe I absorbed those novels with my eyes and brain at all; rather, my spirit and emotions took ownership of the experience. Nevertheless, I remember both novels being a struggle to read, particularly Beloved. I remember feeling profound frustration, grief, and even despair as I read, and after I finished reading both couldn’t hurry enough to escape that pall that had come over me during the reading experience. In fact, I’ve tried hard not to revisit that place those novels took me to as a young woman in my late teens and early twenties. Even now deep into my thirties, I’ve yet to return and investigate either book.
Yet they remain with me, present at nearly every fork of my journey into my full self: the story of a girl who could never be beautiful because the world required her to be the receptacle of its ugliness. The story of a woman who murdered her child because the freedom of that death was the more humane and loving choice, in her eyes, than the literal chains of life. This girl and woman carry traumas, endure them, and choose forks on their journeys from a mindset of surviving instead of thriving, searching and scratching and clawing to move from one end of that spectrum to the other. Often alone. Often in spite of. Often with no end.
read more…On Romance & Recurring Themes: Imperfect Author of Imperfect Heroines
On Tuesday, my novella “A Professional Pact” will be released along with nineteen other novellas in the Crossroads Anthology featuring some of the most notable authors of interracial romance writing today. I’m humbled to be part of the anthology, a special shout-out to LaVerne Thompson of thinking of me in the first place. And I can admit I have some anxiety about this story. Well, I have anxiety about all my stories, but this one is making me particularly raw. It’s not because I haven’t done a friends-to-lovers romance before—I have—but I think Deena, in a lot of ways, represents an archetypal character of mine that makes me feel insecure in this current social landscape of Strong Heroines FTW (TM) , but one I can’t stop writing…and one I don’t think I could stop writing, to be honest. One that, if I’m honest with myself, hits at the crux of one of my main foibles that I’m constantly negotiating to the point I sometimes think I’m on a hamster wheel going nowhere.
Deena suffers from stage fright, a type of glossophobia, which is a fear of public speaking. She also doesn’t like crowds. She can handle small gatherings, groupings of people she knows and trusts. But large stages and large groups? She’d very much rather not. And I didn’t go into a backstory of why because, well, that’s more of a “like-to-know” rather than a “need-to-know” for the purpose of the story I’d written, at least I think so. What mattered was she has it now and is taking steps to work through it. She has an online therapist. She has a found family who is in her corner. And she has Granger, a once-upon-a-time improv classmate who becomes something more, who brings friends along with him. And despite the arc their relationship takes, he doesn’t “fix” her, nor is she “fixed” in the end. Rather, I think, the point of where the story ends is the knowledge Deena has found someone who will be her safe harbor as she navigates the choppy waters of her flaws.
read more…On “Relatability” and #RitasSoWhite
Last week, the Romance Writers of America released the finalists for the 2019 RITA Awards, the top award to recognize excellence in the romance genre for the year 2018. Finalists are selected from self-nominated books, as in authors submit books/unpublished manuscripts for a fee and all of the entrants judge everyone else with a scoring rubric. This year, five authors of color made it to the final round, including three Black authors. This was an improvement on the ZERO Black authors who made it for the 2017 slate, sure; but after a year of RWA members promising they’d do better and read more diversely, this paltry showing deemed as among the best of the best in 2018 makes the quality of this “better” suspect. Of course, there was disappointment and dismay over the lack of marginalized authors and underrepresented stories being recognized again this year, but after the disappointment faded and the calls for accountability started, the excuses started rolling in. A perennial favorite among the author-readership that judges the RITA entrants is always some variation of, “I can’t relate to characters who aren’t white.*”
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A Professional Pact (Contemporary Romance)
With careers on the rise, now isn’t the time to fall in love.
Blurb: Granger Kirby is over being known only as a heartthrob. He wants accolades for his talent, not just his looks, but being a paparazzi magnet is what keeps the scripts coming. His agent wants him in yet another publicity romance for an upcoming film, yet enough is enough for him. And when he reconnects with an acquaintance from his improv class, he realizes he may have found just who he needs to slingshot him to the next level.
Dr. Deena Newsome’s phobia of crowds and public speaking isn’t going away. In fact, it’s getting worse. And even though the improv class she’d taken to help with that hadn’t, at least she met some cool people out of the deal—including Hollywood hottie Granger Kirby. When he offers to give her one-on-one lessons on how to manage crowds in exchange for being his girlfriend decoy, she agrees. She can’t be a professor if she’s too afraid to teach, after all; and if she hadn’t gone all swoony for Granger when they’d shared a five-week improv class during the summer, surely she can fall back on the skills she’s learned and pretend she has.
And although they are both professionals in their fields, they are amateurs when it comes to matters of the heart.
On Reading: Loving the Mess We Are
Before I ever became an author, I was a reader first; which means before I wrote characters wrestling with the questions I, myself, have, I was looking for books that did the same. When I came across Courtney Milan‘s Cyclone series, I was drawn to the stories because of the covers and then stuck around because the protagonists were diverse (culture, gender identification, race, sexual orientation). Also, because I have enjoyed previous Courtney Milan books I’ve read, I felt assured I’d enjoy these as well. However, what I didn’t count on was being all in my feels.
All in my feels.
These two books reminded me we do not read in a vacuum. Even as we try to escape the real world, no one ever goes on vacation without bringing baggage. We might not understand all that we’re packing, but it’s coming with us. And during these two reads, I ended up rifling through all the baggage I’d been carrying since childhood. This was a good thing.
A timely thing.
Of Dreams and Diasporas—Celebrating King
Fifty years ago, Martin Luther King Jr. celebrated his very last birthday, so it seems fitting that this year his holiday falls on his actual birthday. That being said, I’m sure Dr. King is rolling over in his grave at where this country has gone since his fateful assassination. The man who occupies the presidency is diametrically opposed to what Dr. King advocated for, and on the eve of Dr. King’s holiday weekend, Mr. Trump made explicit one of the implicit and insidious reasons why the immigration debate has always been so fraught.
When the man who occupies the presidency labels the very first Black republic in the world and the second-largest continent on the planet known for its majority-Black populations shitholes compared to a wealthy and prosperous majority-white country, one can no longer deny how he feels about people of a certain hue. When the man who occupies the presidency is so unmoored from history, and how that history has led to a contemporary where citizens of these countries feel they must leave their own nations to find opportunity in one that claims to accept “the tired, the poor, the huddled masses“—but with an asterisk and the tiniest of fine print that reads “Whites Only (even if this also had some rules and regulations based on ethnicity)—we must realize we are facing a crisis of conscience, and this conscience is entirely out of whack from the man we honor today.
Of Rivers, Arrows, and Roller-coasters — 2018 and the Word of the Year
A week into the New Year, I’m still carrying baggage from 2017, 2016, 2015, etc., and the thought of putting it down makes me chafe. Why am I so comfortable with this burden that I’m already adjusting 2018 to make room for it? My hands aren’t that big and my muscles aren’t that strong. The baggage must be made with TARDIS technology and the ability to redistribute weight so that the only discomfort I feel is the anxiety tension in my left shoulder that stays with me constantly. Nevertheless, my posture is all out of whack from this load, contorted to accommodate the negative narratives and energies that have been with me for longer than I’d like to admit.
I’m tired, y’all. I’m turning 35 in May. My back ain’t what it used to be (hell, it hasn’t been great since college). I need to find a river and lay these burdens down. I need the strength to let go. The courage.
My 2018 word, everyone: Courage.
Examining My Authoring: Politics and Romance
I’m a week out from the BookBaby Independent Authors Conference and I have been thinking long and hard about what I write, why I write, and for whom I write. It’s been a fraught thought process, one that has forced me to confront something I’d known for a while but didn’t want to accept—to the point I even confessed to one of the speakers about the revelation. In the week since, I’ve not been responding well, culminating in a complete meltdown on Friday where I couldn’t be the Strong Black Woman™. I was all out of spoons. My internal mason jar of emotions had been filled up. The excess had to go somewhere, out, and even then what I’d shed was simply enough to put the lid back on so I could power through another day and on to the weekend.
Black Ink: A Charleston African-American Book Festival
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Start to Finish to In Progress
Uncle Pete, Mama, Uncle Greg, Grandma (1991)
The immediate weeks leading up to this birthday have been mercurial to say the least, which makes sense considering my ruling planet is Mercury (which was apparently in retrograde, and isn’t that always fun?). A colleague of mine passed away suddenly on the same day as my grandmother had six years prior at a similar age as my mother had twenty-three years prior, who left behind two young ladies just as my mother had. Also, this was the Monday after Mother’s day, so I was already in a state of unexpected grief (I’d thought after two-plus decades having no actual mother to celebrate I wouldn’t be as affected as I’d been, but this year it’d snuck up on me, and the metabolizing of the day I must have subconsciously been doing years prior didn’t happen this year). I don’t mean to start this off unhappily, but Dr. Conseula Francis, the woman who passed, was a champion of the romance genre – particularly Black romance – and especially for the right for Black women to feel love and all the pleasures that come with it without shame or negotiation or excuse. And for her to do this in academia, a place that is usually insidiously hostile to all of these things, with the level of success and gravity as she’d done was so refreshing and exciting for me. The last personal interaction I’d had with Dr. Francis was a few months ago (she was an incredibly busy associate provost at the College of Charleston where I also work) and she gave a talk about Black women and romance. There was only a handful of people there, and I was the only other Black person in the room besides Dr. Francis. I was happily her Amen Corner, because everyone else had little idea what she was talking about (not their fault, considering Blackness is always marginalized, and anything having to do with Black women even more so). To hear Dr. Francis name drop and big up so many fantastic authors – including myself – was a point of pride not just for me, but for all of us Black women who give voice and space for ourselves to be loved and cherished and adored and pleased, and for all of the women who choose to occupy that space with the fullness of themselves and the freedom of their undeserved guilt. To hear her discuss how romance interacts with, wrestles with, contends with social status quos that have actual ramifications of how we live our everyday lives and that these novels aren’t simply an “escape”, but are in many ways a blueprint of how Black women can pursue and live their fullest selves, was empowering for me to hear, as she’d articulated a subconscious drive I’ve had for why I even write what I write in the first place.
To Own Thyself Is to Be True
Prince by @dngmil on Tumblr
Sometimes you have to sit with a thing; let it soak, then simmer, then sink further down into the psyche where the real metabolism can begin.
Prince’s death hasn’t soaked, simmered, or sunk yet, but I’m going to write about it, anyway. I’d tried to write something about it the day after he’d passed, but nothing I was producing really hit where I wanted it to go. I could feel the ramble begin, trying to do a chronology of my relationship with Prince, such as it was, on the cusp of staying up late well passed my bedtime watching Purple Rain, a film I’d only halfway seen once before and only in the last five years. Truthfully, I’m not a “fan” of his in that I didn’t actively pursue his music—not like I did with Whitney or Michael—but he was a foundational artist to me nonetheless.
“Kiss” is one of the first songs I ever remember hearing that wasn’t a lullaby or a hymn. At first, I’d thought Prince was a woman, because in a three-year-old’s mind, women have “high” voices and men have “low” voices. So the fact Prince dips down into the lower registers of his voice for “You” to catapult him to the “don’t have to be rich…” at the end of the song didn’t faze me at all. And really, it’s just his voice, a drumbeat, and harmonies above it that drove the song, with the guitar to add flourish, some synths to fill it in, and no bass line. “Kiss” never fails to get me tapping my feet or shaking my shoulders; it’s that motivating of a song. And now that I’m older, I can also appreciate the lyrics for what they are—just be yourself; I dig you for just who you are. I suppose three-year-old Savannah understood those lyrics would be important one day, even if she couldn’t articulate it then.
A few years later, Prince then releases “Diamonds and Pearls”, which is actually my favorite Prince song. Again, it’s a simple song, not really complicated—complete with a bridge that features a breakdown of D-I-A-M-O-N-D that goes hard in the paint. By this time I’m eight years old when the song drops, and I admit I liked the song because I could sing along with it and I liked the melody. Yet with age and life lived, the lyrics of “Diamonds and Pearls” are gorgeous and resonant, especially the verse after the bridge. Gems are nice, but what we have to offer from inside is the real value we give to each other. “All I can do is just offer you my love,” how completely precious is that? How completely simple, yet difficult to do, especially if you think you’re not worthy of it, or full of it?
Vegas, Baby!
2016 RT Booklovers Convention – Las Vegas, Nevada
Savannah will be attending the 2016 RT Booklovers Convention in Las Vegas, Nevada fromMany times the blood circulation gets cialis tadalafil generico disturbed and blood doesn’t get supplied to the male organ for an erection. When folks tend to buy women viagra be informed you have Hyperactivity, oftentimes, there’re staying misdiagnosed as it is merely resulting from mayhem in the household plus much more. If you are suffering from the above symptoms then you should also look out for painful urination or ejaculation, blood in generic levitra cialis urine or semen, and pain in inflammatory places. The patent rights of the brand pill india tadalafil online with its generic drugs remembers in the 100mg frame along these lines expediting erection. April 12, 2016 – April 17, 2016. She will be participating in the Giant Book Fair on Saturday, April 16, 2016 and would love the opportunity to chat and sign your books! Please visit the website for more details.
Welcome to the New SJFBooks.com!
Welcome to the new SJFBooks.com! This is will be the first stop to any and all things related to author Savannah J. Frierson and SJF Books, including blogs, upcoming releases, excerpts, and appearances.
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Many thanks to the incredible Nuri Abdur-Rauf for her time, patience, and incredible talent with re-branding the site. For more information about her, visit her web site at http://nuriabdurrauf.com/.
SJF Books believes in crafting stories with love's complete dynamism, openness, and truth—no matter how common or atypical they may be.
