Author of The Diva of Peddler's Creek
For some reason when it comes to African Americans, we seem to judge art based upon how closely it reminds us of our own lives, as though our art expression must hold realism as a key component. The art must reflect our reality or it is not worthy.
I urge readers to remember that fiction can be realistic, but it can also be fantasy, science fiction, historical and futuristic. It can be as close to what we know as true life, but it can also be as far away as the stars. Fiction is imagination. It should never have boundaries.
To many of us, imaginations have always been our primary means of escaping reality. If I don’t have a radio or television or—God forbid—a book in my hands, there is always my imagination. As a writer, creating fiction that mirrors reality is an option, but not a requirement. As a writer, it is my responsibility to make you feel that the story or world I create feels like reality. The best writers can take you places you’ve never been and never dreamed of going and make you feel you are right there in the protagonist’s head. You’re not thinking “what’s this gal doing in outer space?” You’re thinking “I have to hurry up and finish building the space capacitor to get this ship to the planet Oxygon before it blows up!” (Now my little romance set on a farm doesn’t seem so far out there, does it?)
That’s what fiction is all about—storytelling without bounds. Wherever our imagination takes us, thus go our keyboards.
Romance novelist Taylor Beir will stop at nothing to get her mother off her back, including relocating to teach a little boy she’s never met how to read. But Christopher Doubleday doesn’t want to learn. Handsome older brother, Boyd, has an invisible stick up his backside. And she suspects sweet Mary and Jesse are trying transform her into the mythical “good girl” she’s never been; either by power of suggestion or bribing her with endless goodies from Mary’s kitchen.
Taylor may be down—and stuffed—but she’s not out. Someday the townspeople of Peddler’s Creek, West Virginia will realize their hostility is misplaced and recognize her for the gentle, misunderstood soul she really is. And they will admit that Taylor Beir truly is the best thing to ever happen to their tiny, dirt road, middle-of-nowhere, backwater town of Peddler’s Creek, West Virginia…if they know what’s good for them.
…Taylor’s quick blink of surprise and then her sudden clutch onto the horse as she
realized she was high in the air with no one to steady her.
“What the hell…?” she said, grabbing the saddle.
“Take the reins,” Boyd said from beside her, thrusting the leather into her hands
without meeting her eyes. He couldn’t, or she would surely see the desire he was trying so hard
to hide. The last damn thing he needed was Taylor getting wind that he found her attractive—
any more than she already knew.
She took the reins quickly, annoyance making her movements jerky.
“Take it easy!” he barked, allowing his frustration to masquerade as anger and his desire
to transfer into bluster. “I hope you realize you lost the wager.”
“What? No way.”
“I put you on the horse.”
“You didn’t have the patience to allow me to do it myself.”
“You couldn’t do it yourself.”
“I could have, you didn’t want me to.”
“You didn’t,” he said with finality, turning away. He could feel the heat of her anger
from where he stood, but only had a split second to enjoy it when…
“You are such a son of a…” She paired the last word with an angry kick. More of a jerk, really. But it didn’t matter whether it was a kick or a jerk, because a millisecond later the horse beneath her kicked up its front feet, taking Taylor high into the air.
Boyd watched in horror as Flame reared slightly, causing Taylor’s eyes to go wide
with surprise, and a screech to erupt from her throat before his prize steed took off and she disappeared like a blur before him…
For more information on Ava Bleu, please visit www.avableu.blogspot.com
Click here to order or add The Diva of Peddler's Creek to your reading wish list.