Editor's Pick, June 2009

Starting this month, I get the rare pleasure of selecting a backlist title as an editor's pick. 

For anyone who'd ever question my decision to trade the feather pen for the dreaded red pencil, let these books stand in testimony. These picks make it a pleasure and an honor.

And this month, I'm here to show you why not all erotica is created equally. 

Exhibit A:

It didn’t take long for Lucious to sense that the night shift at Blaylock’s Bricks, with the exception of only a few people, was an incredibly close-knit group. To the point of exclusion. He could tell in the break room at night when they huddled close and talked in hushed tones, or told jokes that made no sense at all, that he was officially on the outside. He could tell it when he tried to get people to tell him about Tammy.

Exhibit B:

He had always been that way, at least until he arrived at the kiln. Something about this place, something about Tammy Blaylock and this group of people that truly, truly acted like a unit, was alluring to him. He wanted to be a part of their conversations. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Tammy and still be able to say she was a very friendly girl. He wanted to be trusted with their secrets, but he didn’t know how to gain their acceptance.

Exhibit C: 

“You can have her, too.” The voice beside him was deep, but achingly familiar. A gentle hand began massaging the back of his neck and his head. The touch was as intoxicating as the drinks he’d had earlier.He turned his head to the side and was confronted with one thick, strong brown thigh. It was shaved, oiled down, and immensely edible. Lucious’s thinking became clear as day then.

Exhibit D:

Sahara means moon, she would tell people. Nobody cared. She was just another black girl with a funny name. Sahara was a common word, or so she thought. It was guaranteed to be the most famous desert. Forget the Gobi. No one in the world apparently knew there was a Gobi somewhere out there in the Eastern Hemisphere. Still people consistently pronounced her name wrong. She hated it when people said her name wrong. “Sahara” was printed on her nametag at work and she absolutely hated that. Not because she didn’t like the name but because inevitably some student’s mother would spend thirty minutes saying Sahara’s name wrong, wasting her time and never even getting around to what it was the customer wanted in the first place. One customer had said that she was just going to call her Sarah. Sahara went home sick after that particular episode.

I know. Characterization in erotica. Didn't think it was possible? Me either, until I met author Aubrey Leatherwood. 

I'll be honest and admit that at first , the title The People You Know, The Sex They Have bugged me, big time. It was too long and too obvious...and then I read the book. The title is not only perfect, it's what separates this book and this author from the pack. 

This is a writer who knows what she's about, and makes no bones about it. Thanks to her masterful characterization, these are the people you know, and this is the sex they have.

Thank you, Aubrey, for trusting this book to Lyrical.

Readers, enjoy.