Author Interview with romance author, Harlem Boston

I am from the volunteer state of Tennessee, Memphis, Tennessee. I am one of six children. I come from a long line of educators, my maternal grandmother being one, and my mother being the other, and some other relatives. My mother had this pet peeve when I was growing up that she didn’t like for my siblings and I to use the word (at) at the end of a sentence. So if I asked her, “where is my brother Tim at?” She would say, “he’s behind that preposition (at).” It took me a long time to realize why she would do that, but it was just her way of breaking us up from using (at) at the end of a sentence.

I was such a funny character as a child and I liked spending alone time by myself and I would create almost anything. I would create my own stories, paper dolls, and even create my own imaginary friends and I would act out scenes from soap operas.

That fly would see me focused, very relaxed at my desk and if something breaks my thought patterns, I’m totally thrown off course and by that point, I just stop what I’m doing and try to regain my focus.

I usually start out with my fountain pen and then switch to my laptop computer. Although, I’ve been told I-pads is where it is right now. I don’t know about that statement, but you have to go with whatever works best for you.

Okay, if we’re speaking in terms of childhood, Three Little Pigs! But if we’re speaking in terms of adulthood, it will have to be Unspoken Love by Doreen Rainey!

Oh my goodness! Yes! “If there’s a book that you want to read but hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” Perfect quote in my opinion by Toni Morrison. It’s simple but yet refined.

Not that I’m consciously aware of, but sometimes I may do it. Sometimes, I’ll use someone from my friends circle “real life stuff” and incorporate it into my novel.

There’s like a whole list of books from different authors that is now on my To Be Read Later List. I’ve been working non-stop and haven’t had any time to catch up on any of my reading but hopefully I’ll get caught up someday.

She’s not a new writer, but she’s new to me, and I recently came across an article on her. Her name is Denise N. Wheatley.

My most recent book is A Princess Doesn’t Kiss Frogs, a romantic comedy series. It’s funny how you don’t know you need something, until you come across it.

With my book you’re going to see that love is not so unrealistic as it seems, so it’s really about trying to give hope to the girl who’s being overlooked by men, the girl who thinks she’ll never find love or that girl who feels she’s not enough or pretty enough for someone to love her and appreciate her for what she has to offer.

In a nutshell my novel shows you how to find love and how to recognize it when it comes along.

My writing is more like a comedy show. I like to make my readers laugh and make sure that they’re going to have a blast, so quite naturally you’re going to laugh throughout, but there are some serious moments also. So you can expect to laugh until you need stitches and you’re going to fall in love with my characters.

I had actually began laying the groundwork down and much later down the line, I threw out a bunch of titles before I chose my title. My publisher did not change it, but they’re okay with most of my choices.

She is a branding expert and all around shark in business who doesn’t mind going the distance for business but not for love. She is a foodie, competitive, ambitious, sensitive and rich.

Each character is totally different, they all have their own distinctive personalities. I say 0% autobiographical.

The ability to make readers feel something that will hopefully stay with them not just in the moment but for a lifetime.

Harlem C. Boston is the literary southern doll of Tennessee. She is a career consultant by day and writer by night. She has an associate degree in psychology and loves to spice things up in the kitchen. Music is something she’s always in the mood for and try not to take herself too seriously. Words is something she’s never been short on, although, being a wordsmith wasn’t something she ever saw herself as but while on a sabbatical from life, she discovered a romance author who made it look easy and she became interested and took the lunge. It was shortly after that, that she knew that becoming an author was her destiny.

Mahogany came downstairs in a long fitted dress with her hair pinned up in a chignon with twists that made her tiny eyes pop. She held on carefully to the circular two-sided golden banister, and marble staircase until she made it down to the bottom step, and paused, but not without her feet wobbling though. Surprisingly, she had black stilettos on that matched her waist cinching dress. Her eyes sparked every time she looked at Desmond, and those butterflies immediately swirled around inside her stomach when she realized he was watching her, the same butterflies that a girl feels whenever she’s intrigued by a guy, and Mr. Desmond Franklin couldn’t stop watching the way she curved her hips from left to right, and how her eyes lit up the whole room, and how the pop of color on her cheeks captured his heart. Then it made other parts of him come alive too.

“Wow, Maho! Who knew you could look like a real human being,” Brixton said. Layyah placed her hands over his mouth and pushed Brixton along.

“Have fun!!! Be a good girl,” Layyah mumbled, as she pulled Mahogany to the side.

“I’m trying!” Mahogany said, while hitting at Layyah to back off.

“You look beautiful, Mahogany!” Desmond said, as he grabbed the door for her.

“Um, what did you say?” Mahogany asked. She paused before she went out the door.

“You’re beautiful!” Desmond emphasized and grabbed her hand.

“I don’t know what to say, but you look decent too,” Mahogany professed. She side-eyed him but she threw in a half smile.

###

This is not a date, Mahogany Taylor! You’re just doing a favor for two of your soon to be ex-best friends. That’s all. Who’s gonna owe me big time. How much longer before this elevator opens up? If it doesn’t soon, I’m gonna scream. I can’t stand being in tight places. Okay, I need to calm down.

After that kiss with Desmond, I haven’t been able to think straight. I have tried to avoid being around him for long periods of time by myself. I’m not falling for him, am I? Am I falling for, Desmond? No… I had a crush on him so long ago. No one still likes the same person they liked when they were in college. Besides, I am a grown woman now, and I got over the fact that he didn’t look at me with the same intenseness that I looked at him.

I mean… So much time has passed. There’s no way I still care about him. What is wrong with me? Am I running a fever? Mahogany laid the back of her hand on her forehead to check her temperature, and on the sides of her face, and underneath her chin.

Ooh, it’s hot in here. This elevator is a death trap. Why isn’t it moving fast enough? Someone call the ambulance because I’m hyperventilating. I need a breathing machine.

Oh, here comes another one.

Mahogany started panting, and hitting the elevator buttons. Desmond watched how Mahogany stood at the far end of the elevator, while he stood relaxed with his head leaned back with his hands underneath his armpits, at the other end of the elevator inspecting every curve she had, and the ones she didn’t have, and then his male antlers almost got the best of him, but he played it cool. It was not great timing on his part though when his stomach started doing the limbo. It remains to be seen that Mahogany will ever get over herself long enough to fall for someone like, Desmond.

Mahogany hugged herself, and avoided eye contact with him by looking down. She had one heel on, and the other heel off when the elevator rocked, and the doors opened.

“Feet hurt?” Desmond asked, he held the elevator doors and let Mahogany go out ahead of him.

“I’m not used to wearing them,” Mahogany said, stepping out the elevator.

“Why is that?” Desmond inquired. He rubbed his hands together.

“They’re uncomfortable,” Mahogany countered, pointing down at her feet.

“You don’t wear them for work?” Desmond persisted. He looked at her feet.

“Nope!” Mahogany said. She paused and dropped her high heel and twisted her foot until it went inside.

“I love being here!” Mahogany said, still twisting her feet inside her heels.

“Yeah, but I couldn’t live in this climate for long periods of time,” Desmond proclaimed, as he held her arm so she could finally get that heel on. For once and for all.

“How is it any different than Naughton’s weather?” Mahogany asked, she curled her lip up.

© 2021 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Harlem C. Boston. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.