Darian Spenser was raised in a world of social correctness, manners and cotillions. Her mother’s plans certainly did not include Darian’s college sweetheart, Davis Chancellor. Yet it would be Davis who nurtures and releases Darian’s inner vixen. Darian learns there’s more to life than where to place and how to use the fish fork when Davis begins his Love Lessons.
Buy your copy!
Barnes & Noble.com
Romance Divine LLC
Contemporary novella of a woman's desire to get out of her socialite life style and be a normal woman. In her one chance to live life for herself, she falls in love with the MVP of her collage campus football team, who is anything but, what Mother would choose for her. He is the one weapon to use against her mother's influence.
Her life turns more chaotic with his MVP status. No longer the fishbowl life of a debutaunte, she is thrust into the deep end of the ocean, sort of speak. and lives in a vaccuum surrounded by his fans.
Later, she finds herself bored with the new life and lonely. She soon hates her lady-like upbringing and wishes she could be more like the wiley vixen she knows she is deep down inside.
Memories of my debutante party came flooding back to me in broken pieces. Usually, the ones I wanted to forget, but Mother’s well-intended advice always helped them to resurface. It was the social event of the year. Celebrities from the local news stations, the elected officials, and even a few Mississippi native actors attended. Not to mention, the long list of eligible bachelors my parents dubbed acceptable for my hand. The so-called list of young men came from the best families, the most powerful in the state of Mississippi. This wasn’t the Middle Ages; there were no arranged marriages anymore! Try telling that to my family. They did as any other social society parents in southern Mississippi….lied, cheated and stole their way to the top of the social ladder.
I hated meeting new people. The events always made me nervous and unsure. Questions always arose at these functions. Did I make the best impression on them for my mother’s sake? Were my manners up to par? The more I questioned my actions, the more timid I became and I would look to my mother for help or encouragement. Instead, I received a reproachful look—a token of her disapproval—and later, a lecture at home for my insecurities, then another for breaking the unwritten rule of not expressing such in the public eye.
Years of grooming prepared me for the one thing my mother desired the most—an image of her making. In short, I lived the life of an etiquette-trained, socially conscious—doll. My controlling parents made sure I looked presentable in the best clothes by the latest fashion designer; I never left the house with my hair looking less than perfect, and my finger nails were manicured on a regular basis. I had to be respectable and behave in a ladylike manner at all times. This was the Southern way.
“I think your red dress would be fine for the party,” Mother’s voice insisted.
When had we changed the subject? “Mom!”
“You must always look your best, Darian dear.”
I rolled my eyes. Not again!
“You never know who you’ll meet, honey. Your future worth depends on the man you choose and the family in which you join.”
I gazed into the mirror. The young frightened female of three years ago peeped at me, waving to me in complete panic. Shoving her aside, I focused on the woman I was now. A junior in one of the most respected universities in Mississippi, a debutante, and free at last from the clutches of matriarchal disaster.