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Original Publication Date: February 02, 2002
Setting: Modern New Orleans
Being trapped in a bedroom with a woman is a grand thing. Being trapped in hundreds of bedrooms over two thousand years isn’t. And being cursed into a book as a love-slave for eternity can ruin even a Spartan warrior’s day.
As a love-slave, I know everything about women. How to touch them, how to savor them, and most of all, how to pleasure them. But when I was summoned to fulfill Grace Alexander’s sexual fantasies, I found the first woman in history who saw me as a man with a tormented past. She alone bothered to take me out of the bedroom and into the world. She taught me to love again.
But I wasn’t born to know love. I was cursed to walk eternity alone. As an ancient Greek general, I had long ago accepted my sentence. Yet...
Julian was born the son of a legendary Spartan commander. Reared in the manner of his Spartan brethren, he knew no love of any kind. His childhood was harsh and unforgiving. As a man, he fought his way to the top and became the most feared Macedonian general of his time. He was the commander who trained Kyrian of Thrace and once Kyrian attained his own command status, the two of them cut a trail of slaughter through the Mediterranean and...
View Character Profile
Grace was a sex therapist by trade, who'd sworn off men forever. Until the night her lunatic girlfriend gave her the most outrageous present of all time: A Greek sex slave. Now there's something you don't get everyday. And that's what happens when you hang out with the Devereaux sisters. But that's all right by Grace. These last 11+ years have been the best of her life. Now she's the psychologist/therapist for most of the nonhuman...
View Character ProfileThe original title of Fantasy Lover was Saving Grace which is ironic since that is exactly what this book was to my career. St Martins first changed the title to Slave of Love, but finally decided on Fantasy Lover. Which is good since I couldn't say the other title without bursting into laughter, while I simultaneously cringed in horror.
The book is very special to me in a way very few are. For one thing, the characters in it kept me sane during a difficult time in my life when I wasn't sure I would live. When the idea occurred to me, I was destitute financially. My husband had just graduated school and was working in a factory to make ends meet. My father had died of cancer, my mother had been diagnosed with cancer, and I had barely survived a high risk pregnancy. During the course of it all, I lost my house and we only had one car between us and a new infant son. I'd lost...
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After they had breakfast, Grace decided to teach Julian to drive.
“This is ridiculous,” he said as she pulled into the high school’s parking lot.
“Oh, come on,” she teased, “aren’t you curious?”
“No.”
“No?”
He sighed. “Okay, a little.”
“Well then, just imagine the stories you can tell your men when you get back to Macedonia about the great steel beast you drove… around a parking lot.”
He gave her a puzzled stare. “Does this mean you’re okay with my leaving?”
No, she wanted to shout. But instead, she sighed. In her heart, she knew she could never ask him to give up all he’d been to stay here with her.
Julian of Macedon was a hero. A legend.
He would never be a mild-mannered twenty-first century man.
“I know I can’t keep you. You’re not some lost puppy who followed me home.”
Julian tensed at her words. How true to form they were. It was what made leaving her so damn difficult. How could he give up the only person who had ever seen him as a man?
He didn’t know why she wanted to teach him to drive, but then sharing her world with him seemed to please her. And for some reason that didn’t bear thinking on, he liked making her happy. “All right then, show me how to tame this beast.”
Grace parked the car and they traded seats.
As soon as Julian got in, she cringed at the sight of a six foot three man wedged into a space meant to accommodate a five two woman. “I forgot to move the seat back. Sorry.”
“I can neither breathe nor move, but that’s okay.”
She laughed. “There’s a lever under the seat. Pull it out and you can move the seat back.”
He tried, but he was crammed in so tightly that he couldn’t reach it.
“Here,” Grace said. “I got it.”
Julian threw his head back as she leaned over his thigh, pressing her breasts to his leg while she reached between his knees. His body snapped to attention, instantly hot and hard.
When she put her cheek against his groin as she struggled with the release, he thought he would die from it.
“You know, you’re in the perfect position to-”
“Julian!” she snapped. She pulled back and saw the bulge in his jeans. Her face turned bright red. “Sorry.”
“Me, too,” he breathed.
Unfortunately, she had yet to move the seat, so he was forced to endure the position one more time.
Grinding his teeth, Julian reached one arm over his head to grab the headrest and clench it tightly. It was all he could do not to yield to the fiery lust inside his body.
“You okay?” she asked once she released the seat and returned to her own.
“Oh, yeah,” he said sarcastically. “I’m just fine considering the fact I’ve walked through burning huts that hurt less than my groin does right now.”
“I said I was sorry.”
He just looked at her.
She patted his arm tenderly. “Okay, can you reach the pedals?”
“I’d like to reach your pedals…”
“Julian!” Grace snapped again. The man was truly lecherous. “Would you concentrate?”
“All right, I’m concentrating.”
“And I don’t mean on my breasts.”
He dropped his hungry gaze to her lap.
“Or there either.”
To her amazement, he playfully poked his bottom lip out like a pouting child. The look was so uncharacteristic of him, that she laughed again.
“Okay,” she said, sobering. “The pedal on the far left is your clutch, the middle is the brake and the one on the far right is the gas. You remember what I told you about them?”
“I remember.”
“Good. Now the first thing you do is press in the clutch and slide the gear into reverse.” She placed his hand on the gear shifter in the center of her car, and showed him how to move it up and down.
“You know, you really shouldn’t fondle that in front of me, Grace. It’s cruel.”
“Julian! Do you mind. I’m only trying to show you how to shift my gears.”
He snorted. “I wish you’d shift my gear like that.”
Grace growled at him.
With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he looked totally unrepentant.
Then, he attempted to back up, but he released the clutch too soon and stalled the car.
“It’s not supposed to do that, is it?” he asked.
“Not unless you want to have a wreck.”
He sighed and tried again.
An hour later, after Julian still hadn’t managed to drive around the parking lot without hitting a curb or stalling the car, Grace conceded failure.
“It’s a good thing you were a better general than you are a driver.”
“Ha, ha,” he said sarcastically, but there was a glint in his eye that let her know he wasn’t truly offended. “All I have to say in my defense is that my first car was a war chariot.”
Grace smiled at him. “Well, we’re not at war on these streets.”
Looking skeptical, he retorted, “I wouldn’t say that. You forget, I’ve seen your late night news.”
Julian turned the engine off. “I think I’ll let you drive for awhile.”
“Probably wise. I can’t really afford a new car right now anyway.”
She got out to exchange sides with him again. But as they crossed paths at the trunk, Julian grabbed her for a hot kiss that made her dizzy. He took her hands in his and held them tightly against his lean hips as he nibbled her lips.
Goodness, a woman could get used to this. Really, really used to it.
Julian pulled back with a smile. “Want to take me home and let me nibble on other things?”
Yes, she did which is why she didn’t dare do that. In fact, she was so delirious from that one kiss that she couldn’t even speak.
Julian stared at the dazed, hungry look on her face. She stared at his lips as if she were still tasting them. In that moment, he wanted her more than he ever had before. But most of all, he wanted to take the band from her pony-tail and let her hair spill over his chest.
How he wished they were back at her house where he could peel the short set from her and listen to her sweet murmurs of pleasure as he…
“The car,” she said, blinking her eyes as if awaking from a dream. “We were getting into the car.”
Julian smiled at her and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
After they both got in, and were buckled up, Grace looked sideways at him. “You know, it seems to me there are two things in New Orleans that you have yet to experience.”
“Number one, I have yet to take you on a-”
“Would you stop!”
He cleared his throat. “Okay, what’s your list?”
“Bourbon Street and modern music. One of which I can take care of right now.” Grace switched on the radio.
She laughed as she recognized Hot Blooded by Foreigner. How apropos, given her passenger.
Julian listened, but didn’t appear impressed.
Grace changed the station.
Julian frowned at her actions. “What did you do?”
“I changed to another station. All you have to do is press these buttons.”
He toyed with it for several minutes until he found a station playing Love Hurts by Nazareth. “Your music is interesting.”
“Does it make you miss your own?”
“Since most of the music I heard was pipers and drummers leading us into battle, no. I think I can appreciate this.”
“Appreciate what?” she asked flippantly, “the music or the fact Love Hurts?”
The humor fled his face. “Since I’ve never known love, I wouldn’t know whether or not it hurts. But I can’t imagine how loving and being loved could possibly hurt as much as not.”
Her chest tightened at his words.
“So,” she asked, wanting to change the subject, “what do you plan to do as soon as you get home?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll probably go kick Scipio’s butt, right?”
He laughed at that. “I would like to.”
“Why? What did he ever do to you?”
“He got in my way.”
Okay, not what she expected to hear. “You don’t like anyone to get in your way, do you?”
“Do you?”
She thought about it. “I guess not.”
###
By the time they reached Bourbon Street, the Sunday afternoon crowd was swarming. Grace fanned her face as she fought the oppressive heat.
She looked up at Julian who even sweated attractively. His damp hair hung in becoming curls around his face and with those sunglasses on…ooo, baby!
Of course, the look was helped by the white t-shirt that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, and his lean, flat six pack of abs. And as she trailed her gaze over the button-fly jeans, she wished she had opted for a baggier pair.
But then given his confident, seductive walk, she doubted if even baggy jeans could hide such raw, overt sexiness.
Julian paused as they passed by a strip club. To his credit, he didn’t gape at the scantily clad women in the window, but Grace sensed his shock plainly enough.
Staring at Julian as if she’d like to devour him, the exotic dancer bit her full bottom lip, then ran her tongue around her lips suggestively as she groped at her breasts. She crooked her finger for him.
Julian turned away.
“Never seen anything like it, have you?” Grace asked, trying to mask her discomfort at the woman’s actions and relief at Julian’s.
“Rome,” he said plainly.
She laughed. “They weren’t that decadent, were they?”
“You’d be amazed. At least, no one’s having an orgy on the…” his voice broke off as he walked past a couple making out on the corner. “Never mind.”
Grace laughed.
“Ooo baby,” a prostitute called to Julian as they passed another club. “Come inside, and I’ll do you for free.”
He shook his head without breaking his stride.
Grace grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop. “Were women like this before the curse?”
He nodded. “It’s the reason why Kyrian was my only friend. The men around me couldn’t stand the attention I received, and women followed me everywhere I went, trying to shove their hands under my armor.”
She thought about that for a minute. “And you’re sure none of these women loved you?”
He looked at her drolly. “Love and lust are not the same thing. How can you love someone you don’t know?”
“I guess you’re right.”
They headed down the street. “So, tell me about this friend of yours. Why didn’t he mind the way women gawked at you?”
Julian flashed his dimples. “Kyrian was deeply in love with his wife, and couldn’t care less about any other woman. He never saw me as competition.”
“Did you ever meet his wife?”
He shook his head. “Even though we never discussed it, I think we both knew it would be a very bad idea.”
Grace watched him as his face changed. He was remembering Kyrian, she was sure of it. “You’re blaming yourself for what happened to him, aren’t you?”
Julian clenched his teeth as he thought about what Kyrian must have felt when the Romans captured him. Considering how badly the Romans had wanted the two of them, there was no telling what else they’d done to Kyrian before they took his life.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I know it’s my fault. Had I not angered Priapus, I would have been there to help Kyrian fight them.”
And there was little doubt in his mind that half of Kyrian’s fate had come from the fact that Kyrian had been foolish enough to befriend him.
Julian sighed. “What a waste of a brilliant life. Had he ever learned to master his recklessness, I know Kyrian would have made a fine politician one day.” He took her hand in his and gave a light squeeze.
They walked in silence while Grace tried to think of some way to cheer him.
As they passed Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo, Grace stopped, then dragged him inside.
She explained the origins of voodoo to him as they toured the miniature museum.
“Ooo,” she said, picking up a male Voodoo doll from a display of them. “Want to dress him up like Priapus and stick little pins in him?”
Julian laughed.
Grace set the doll down as her gaze fell to the glass display case where they had assorted amulets and jewelry. In the middle of the case was a necklace of black, blue and hunter green threads braided so intricately that it looked like a thin black wire.
“It brings good luck to the wearer,” the saleswoman told her as she caught her interest. “Would you like to see it?”
Grace nodded. “Does it work?”
“Oh yes. The thread pattern is strong magic.”
Grace didn’t know if she believed that, but then a week ago she would never have believed two drunk women could conjure a Macedonian general to life either.
She paid the woman for it, then turned to Julian.
“Lean down,” she told him.
He looked skeptical.
“C’mon,” she teased. “Humor me.”
The saleswoman laughed at them as Grace fastened it around his neck. “That boy don’t need no luck charm, chere, he be needing a spell to thwart the attention of those women staring at his rear while he’s stooped over.”
Grace looked past him to see the three women who were indeed ogling his butt. For the first time, she truly felt a vicious stab of jealousy.
But the feeling evaporated as Julian kissed her cheek tenderly before straightening. His look devilish, he draped a possessive arm over her shoulders.
As they passed the women, Grace couldn’t suppress her own mischievous impulse. She paused at the women. “By the way, he looks even better naked.”
“You would certainly know, my sweet,” Julian said as he put his sunglasses on, then draped his arm back over her shoulders.
Grace slid her hand around his waist and into his front pocket as he hugged her against his side.
“You know,” Julian whispered to her. “If you want to move that hand a little lower in my pocket, I wouldn’t mind a bit.”
She squeezed him, but kept her hand where it was.
The women’s envious stares followed them all the way down the street.
###
For dinner, Grace took him to Mike Anderson’s Seafood to eat. She cringed as they brought out his oysters and placed them on the table.
“Ew,” she said as he ate one.
His face offended, he scowled at her. “They’re delicious.”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s only because you don’t know how to eat them.”
“Sure I do. You open your mouth and let the slimy thing slide down your throat.”
He took a swig of beer. “That’s one way of doing it.”
“That’s how you just did it.”
“True, but would like to try another way?”
She bit her lip in indecision. Something in his demeanor warned her it could be most dangerous to take him up on this. “I don’t know,” she said reticently.
“Trust me?”
“Hardly,” she scoffed.
He shrugged and took another swig of beer. “Your loss.”
“Oh, all right,” she relented, too curious by now to continue declining. “But if I gag, remember I warned you.”
Julian hooked his heels around her chair legs, and pulled her so close to him that their thighs were pressed together. He wiped his hands on his jeans, then picked up the smallest oyster on his plate.
“All right, then,” he murmured in her ear. He draped his arm over her shoulders. “Tilt your head back.”
She did. He stroked her throat with his fingers, causing chills to erupt all over her body. She swallowed, amazed by the tenderness of his touch. Amazed at just how good he felt by her side.
“Open your mouth,” he breathed as he nuzzled her neck with his nose.
She obeyed.
He tilted the oyster to slide into her mouth. As the oyster slid down her throat, he ran his tongue up her neck in the opposite direction.
Grace shuddered at the unexpected sensations. Her breasts tingled and a thousand chills went through her. It was incredible! And for once, she didn’t mind the taste of the oyster at all.
Her face flamed as she remembered where they were. Opening her eyes, she was immediately grateful for the dark corner.
“Did you like it?” he asked playfully.
She couldn’t resist smiling. “You are incorrigible.”
“I endeavor to be, anyway.”
“And you succeed admirably.”
Before he could respond, her cell phone rang.
“Ugh!” she said, pulling it out. Whoever it was, it had better be darn important.
Setting: Modern New Orleans
Being trapped in a bedroom with a woman is a grand thing. Being trapped in hundreds of bedrooms over two thousand years isn’t. And being cursed into a book as a love-slave for eternity can ruin even a Spartan warrior’s day.
As a love-slave, I know everything about women. How to touch them, how to savor them, and most of all, how to pleasure them. But when I was summoned to fulfill Grace Alexander’s sexual fantasies, I found the first woman in history who saw me as a man with a tormented past. She alone bothered to take me out of the bedroom and into the world. She taught me to love again.
But I wasn’t born to know love. I was cursed to walk eternity alone. As an ancient Greek general, I had long ago accepted my sentence. Yet now I have found Grace– the one thing my wounded heart cannot survive without. Sure, love can heal all wounds, but can it break a two-thousand-year-old curse?
The original title of Fantasy Lover was Saving Grace which is ironic since that is exactly what this book was to my career. St Martins first changed the title to Slave of Love, but finally decided on Fantasy Lover. Which is good since I couldn't say the other title without bursting into laughter, while I simultaneously cringed in horror.
The book is very special to me in a way very few are. For one thing, the characters in it kept me sane during a difficult time in my life when I wasn't sure I would live. When the idea occurred to me, I was destitute financially. My husband had just graduated school and was working in a factory to make ends meet. My father had died of cancer, my mother had been diagnosed with cancer, and I had barely survived a high risk pregnancy. During the course of it all, I lost my house and we only had one car between us and a new infant son. I'd lost my job and had been trying to find another when I learned I was pregnant again. Yes, I know how these things happen, and according to all science, I should not have conceived, yet there I was pregnant, hard on the heels of a birth so severe that I spent a week in the hospital afterward (after I'd died), and my baby didn't come home for 7 weeks.
Due to all of the above, we were homeless. All of us. My oldest and I would stay in the hospital waiting room (it's the only safe place you can stay for hours where no one asks questions about it), until my hubby was off work with our home- the car.
Because of the complications of the first pregnancy, my next one was monitored from the very beginning and starting in the first trimester, I was pretty much kept inside the hospital. The longest stretch I was out was 48 hours. I missed my eldest son's first Halloween entirely and was only home for a few hours at Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter. It was a bleak time in my life, but as Nietzsche says, "That which doesn't kill us, makes us stronger."
My children and my wonderful husband kept me going. And it was during one of my rare stays at home that a kernel of an idea was born. I felt cursed and trapped in a hopeless situation. So I did what many writers do, I projected that into a character who really was cursed and trapped, and who felt every bit as helpless to escape his curse as I did. I started the story on one of my husband's legal pads while hooked to yet another IV. Grace and Julian kept me company while I listened to my heartbeat and that of my baby on the hospital monitors, and while I prayed for my mother's and baby's health. They were with me when I finally gave birth to a premature, but healthy baby boy. It took a bit to find a home for this, but one day it caught the notice of an editor who shared my view.
____________________________________________________________________________________
It took Sherri almost 4 years from when she first wrote Fantasy Lover to find a publisher for it. Because it was so different, no one thought it would be marketable.
In the original manuscript, Rodney was a serial killer. Sherri's editor thought readers would be squeamish so her editor made her downgrade him to a stalker.
One day, Sherri wants to rewrite the book and add in the one scene that was cut from it that she still mourns over losing.
____________________________________________________________________________________
As an encouragement to other writers, I found an old query letter that I sent to St. Martin's for Fantasy Lover. Jen declined the proposal on this go round. It would be almost 4 years later before she'd see the book through an agent and purchase it.
September 28, 1995
Jennifer Enderlin
St. Martin's Press
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
Dear Ms. Enderlin:
I would like to send you the partial for my paranormal novel, Saving Grace, which runs approximately 100,000 words.
It is the story of Grace Alexander, a sex therapist who has a lot to learn about sex, and Julian of Macedon, a cursed Greek general who has a lot to learn about commitment. But most of all, the two of them have a lot to learn about love.
Set against modern New Orleans, they are brought together by Grace's best-friend, a pseudo-psychic do-gooder who is convinced that Julian can free Grace from the past that constantly haunts her. But in the end, it is Julian who is saved from a fate worse than death by the kindness and love of one special heart.
I am the author of the nationally bestselling futuristic, PARADISE CITY, which won the 1994 Maggie Award for Best Published Mainstream and placed second in the HOLT Medallion. In addition, it won the Reader's Choice Award. My other works include the bestselling paranormal novel DAEMON'S ANGEL that went back to press before it was published, and the futuristic, BORN OF THE NIGHT (which was nominated for the SFR's Best Futuristic of 1996).
I am also the author of two bestselling writer's reference books from Writer's Digest: Character-Naming Sourcebook and EVERYDAY LIFE IN THE MIDDLE AGES. Both books went into second printings just weeks after publication, and they are currently in their fourth printings. My next book is REAL FANTASY: A WRITER'S GUIDE TO CREATING FANTASTICAL WORLDS.
I love doing the futuristics and hope to continue them on for quite some time to come, but I’ve been dying to launch my other paranormal series with larger-scoped books that I believe have an even wider appeal. I think SAVING GRACE is just such a book and I hope you agree.
Enclosed is a SASE for your response. I hope you like Saving Grace and I thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Sherrilyn Kenyon
____________________________________________________________________________________
Awards For Fantasy Lover:
Pearl Awards: Best Fantasy / Magical and Favorite Overall Paranormal; Golden Rose 2002 Reader Choice Awards: Best Paranormal, Best Sci Fi/fantasy, Best Fantasy/magical, Favorite Overall Paranormal; Prism for Best Fantasy
Fantasy Lover won every contest it was entered in and was the first paranormal novel to be nominated as a Top Ten book of the year by RWA. Ironically, the only contest it didn't win or even final in was RWA's Rita Award.
Fantasy Lover is a tie-in to the Dark-Hunter books, but not officially a part of the series. I wrote the book, hoping that since it didn't have the obscene word "vampire" (back then that was a 4 letter word) that the publishers would take a chance on it. The gamble worked!
Fantasy Lover had a total of 75 rejections from publishers and finally sold to St. Martins in July 1999. This was a book no one believed in except for me. Thank you to all my readers for your support.