Thanks for having me again, Shiloh!
What inspired you to write Midnight Caller? I've gotten that question a lot. Apparently an African-American man working as a gigolo in the Reconstruction Era South blows some readers minds.
While reading Black Life on the Mississippi by Thomas C. Buchanan I came across the historical account of white women from Louisville, Kentucky willing to make “a connection” with African-American steamboat workers.
The account I read involved the prominent women of the Ward family paying the steward aboard the steamboat five dollars to sleep with them in their stateroom. While there is something to be said about a refined man, as stewards were, I much prefer the rough and rugged type.
My writing partner Eva Lefoy started teasing me about the roustabouts working on the steamboats. They were tall and muscular, often worked shirtless sweat drenching their rock hard bodies… needless to say, that got me excited and Frederick was born.
After Frederick was emancipated he continues to work on the Comet as a roustabout and moonlights as a prostitute trying to save up money to buy some land. He doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life on the water. At twenty-five he is getting to that age he wants to find a wife and settle down. He thought he’d never fall for any of the white women he serviced. They were mostly old widows … but Emma was different.
At first sight he knows he’ll have the privilege of sleeping with an angel. She was petite with a generous bosom, a charming smile and dazzling hazel eyes. He is going to enjoy servicing her, but realizes his heart was in trouble.
Life without love is painful, but in the Reconstruction Era South forbidden fruit can be deadly. A fiery romance between a widow and an African-American man has more consequences than either of them imagined.
Slavery has ended, but racial prejudice remains in Kentucky. Emma Bennett guards a secret that could destroy her life. Until now she never considered the price of her security. Becoming a well-respected member in Louisville had seemed a dream come true, but at what cost?
Her husband’s death from a carriage accident releases Emma from her loveless, controlling marriage. Now she has a chance to find happiness and raise a family. But before she begins courting again she wants to experience her freedom. At the advice of the leading socialite in town, she takes a black lover to fulfill her sexual needs. His raw masculine power awakens feelings she didn’t know existed. After the first touch, she craves more.
Frederick works as a roustabout by day and moonlights as a prostitute. He knows better than to fall in love with his white client, but Emma enchants him the first time he calls on her. To keep them both safe, he works hard to put up barriers. Unfortunately, he can’t protect Emma from the slimy Mr. Hawthorne, who wants her as his bride. Frederick vows to keep her safe even if his forbidden love costs him his life.
“Are you all right, angel?”
He just called her angel. Was he trying to seduce her or was he just good at his job? It felt like a jar of butterflies had been released in her chest.
After a moment her body relaxed. “Yes,” she said. “I’m ready.”
Her neglected body betrayed her desire to savor the moment. In only a couple thrusts she entered ecstasy. Her channel gripped onto him as if she didn’t want to let him go. And she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her body was on fire, her blood pounding, and she felt as if she were exploding apart. He filled her . . . he held her. She had never felt so alive, so cared for, so contented in her life.
She rode her climax, his arms wrapped around her. She felt as if she was flying and she never wanted to touch the ground. He could carry her across the entire South. The aftershocks ended too soon, despite Frederick’s best efforts to prolong her pleasure. When she softened into his embrace, he ceased his movements.
She gave him a questioning look. Didn’t he need a release? Mrs. Dimshire had ensured her they always pulled out, but he hadn’t even gotten that far. “Why did you stop?” She panted, trying to regulate her breathing.
“I am here to service you, my lady. Not myself.” He eased her back on to the mattress and again supported himself with his rippled arms.
Emma frowned. There it was again. Another reminder she was just a client. One of the many women he had slept with. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. She was going to enjoy the rest of the evening.
“Then,” she said, running her fingers through his hair, “I want you to continue. I want to watch your pleasure. You may come on me.”
An erotic darkness laced his eyes, turning them almost black. She held his gaze as he began pumping again, building up to a frantic rhythm. He throbbed inside her. Sweat glistened on his forehead and chest making him even more appetizing.
The tingles of pleasure rippled through her again, slowly building with each thrust. The longer he stayed inside her the more she enjoyed the slick heat.
He pulled out, stiffened, and tilted his head back. Arms quivering, he let out a quiet roar and came all over her chest.
If only he had said her name.
The hot sticky liquid pooled between her breasts.
She framed his face with her hands and they kissed while his release ebbed. Sparks flew and the air ignited. When she pulled back he let out a satisfied sigh.
Immediately she missed the feeling of them being one. They had fit together so perfectly despite the fact he towered over her. She longed to feel that deep connection again.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Mmm-hmm.” He incited sensations she had never felt before and now her body was fully alive. She knew if she begged for more, he would comply. But that did not seem ladylike. Coupling wasn’t supposed to feel this good, was it?
“Let me clean you up.”
Hank had come on her many times. She didn’t mind. It was nothing a wet cloth couldn’t wipe off.
His brown eyes held a question, and she realized he was waiting for permission. “All right.”
The wet cloth never came. Frederick straddled her again and his tongue dipped down to lick up his mess. She inhaled sharply and Frederick let out a soft laugh. For the man who had been so careful, so reserved, this seemed like a victory. She glimpsed his inner feelings. This wasn’t all just an act. He truly did enjoy pleasuring her.
His warm tongue lapped at her sensitive flesh, bringing the nerve endings even more alive, and she didn’t think that possible. Her entire body called out to him, pleaded for his touch.
Where to Find Haley Whitehall
About the Author
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.
Midnight Caller – Moonlight Romance Book 1
Midnight Heat – Moonlight Romance Book 2
Midnight Kiss – Moonlight Romance Book 3
Soldier in Her Lap
Wild and Tender Care
Civil War Valentine