Spotlight & Giveaway: I Am Ayah–The Way Home by Donna Hill

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Donna Hill to HJ!

Hi Donna Hill and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, I Am Ayah–The Way Home!

 
Heeey!! So happy you’re here.
 

Please summarize the book a la Twitter style for the readers here:

A forgotten family chest is a Pandora’s box to a lost history that Alessandra believed didn’t matter–only to discover that sometimes to move forward we must go back to find home. A modern-day Wizard of Oz with a twist.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

I wish to tell you a story. My story.
The story of how I come to be here in this foreign land. Sometimes what I tell you will make no sense. Sometimes it will sound absurd. But in between those moments of doubts and dismissal, you may come to believe it possible that within each of us lives the essence of our existence—beginnings, middles, and endings—the paths that those before us took to bring us here.
Some of you will close these pages, toss them aside. But there will be those of you who will embark on a journey of discovery word by word, image by image, memory by memory, from the beginning until now—with me and for you. I speak to you now through the voices and struggles of those who came before and after me—so that you would know.
My journey to here began on the beaches of Mendeland.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• Alessandra’s “experiences’ are they real or imagined?
• Grandma O’s soup recipe is delicious and real
• The reader gets to experience several exciting times periods
• Alessandra and Zach”s relation may be. a slow burn –but worth the wait

What first attracts your main characters to each other?

Something that neither of them can explain. Both of them feel that they know each other–but that’s not possible–or is it?
 

Using just 5 words, how would you describe your main characters”love affair?

Simmering
Sizzling
Scorching
Inevitable
Forever
 

The First Kiss…

Electric. Stunning.
 

Without revealing too much, what is your favorite scene in the book?

There are so many favorites.

She had to get back to the city where she belonged. She stumbled toward the curb, hoping to wave down the cab driver. Too late—the taillights were disappearing into the twilight. Her heart thumped as she turned back toward the house, dragged in an open-mouthed breath of bitter cold air—then finally draped her tote and laptop bag over her shoulder, propped her carry-all atop her suitcase, and released the handle. She trudged to the front door, stopped at the first step of the porch, and fished for the key.
“Hey, excuse me. Can I help you?”
Her body went on alert. She glanced over her shoulder, drawn by a voice that flowed like a lazy river with the intention of dragging you away from shore. The porch lights cast a shadow across a tall, bulky physique. Lovely. The last thing she needed on top of everything else was to be a victim in a Lifetime movie.
“Help me?” she asked, a lift of indignation in her voice. “Into my own house? No, I don’t think so. I’m fine, thanks.”
He held up his gloved hands in surrender. “My bad. Sometimes I forget myself with the whole woman independence thing. You got this.” He bit back a grin.
She rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, then grabbed the handle of the suitcase. But no sooner did she take a step than the suitcase got stuck in the drift. Great. Now she was the Lifetime movie, and she looked like a fool.
“You must be Jerry’s daughter.”
She tossed the guy a look. He was just standing there with his arms folded watching her.
She tugged, and the carry-all perched on top tumbled onto the snow. She bent down and spewed a curse. And when she glanced up, and his face became illuminated by the one lamp on the short street, she nearly tumbled backward. The air stuck for an instant in her chest and she coughed as a blink of recognition came and disappeared.
“Whoa.” The man helped her to her feet. His fingers clutched her upper arm and the contact appeared to shock them both. He cleared his throat and took a step back.
Alessandra came eye to chin with the body and the voice. Her gaze drifted up. Her eyes snapped like the lens of her camera, capturing the half smile that was a mixture of sexy and I told you so, the dark eyes, sleek lashes, smooth skin. Oddly familiar. But that was not possible.
“Thanks,” she managed.
This time he didn’t bother to ask. He reached for her bags, lifted the suitcase, and carried it under his arm as if it were no more significant than an empty backpack, carrying the smaller one in his other hand. “Alessandra Fleming, right?” They inched up the three steps to the porch landing.
She adjusted her tote and computer bag on her shoulder. “Are we supposed to know each other?” she asked, feeling anxious and perturbed by whoever this guy was.
He chuckled. “Not directly.”
“Meaning?”
“I try to check in on your father when I’m in town to see my grandmother. Been more often the past six months or so. Jerry talks about you all the time.”
Her stomach tumbled.
“I…I was the one who found him.”
She stopped. She could kick herself for being so bitchy, now that she knew this guy had been there for her father instead of his own daughter. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first. She swallowed. “Thank you.”
“He’s a good man. Just hope he’s gonna be okay.”
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Me, too.”
They reached the front door, and she dug in her pocket for the key she’d been playing with earlier. “Hope it still works,” she said over a sputtered laugh.
“If not, I have one.”
She looked at him and frowned. “What?”
“Your dad gave me a key.” He offered a slight shrug. “In case something happened. Good thing he did, I guess.”
She stared at this man for a moment. Dozens of thoughts raced through her head, but one realization was clear; her father had to rely on a stranger to look in on him because she couldn’t—or wouldn’t.
What did that make her?
The key fit, turned with ease in the lock, and she felt irrationally vindicated.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would be absolutely crucial to include?

She opened the waist-high iron gate and inched up the concrete stoop, mindful of the snow that had begun to cover the steps. As she turned her key into the lock of the heavy wood and glass door and stepped into the narrow vestibule, she was again grateful for her apartment on the second floor of the six-floor walkup, right above Ms. Edith, one of her favorite people in the world.
She climbed the steps, the polished wood creaking beneath her feet.
When she opened the door to her space, a sudden flash of seeing herself stepping into a dim lantern-lit room that smelled of damp wood, sea moss and dirt floors leaped in front of her. The momentary flashsurreal moment was visceral, seizeding her breath. She gripped the door frame, She shook her head, and the image scattered like startled birds.
But for a moment, the scent of damp wood hung in her nostrils.
Alessandra blinked rapidly, dragged in a shaky breath, and the aroma of fresh flowers that sat in a vase on the hall table replaced the scent of dampness. She frowned, then closed the door behind her. That—whatever that was—had happened before.
At first she’d thought it was maybe remnants of photos that she’d taken at some point and forgotten. But then the images seeped into her dreams and she’d awaken, unnerved and melancholy. And nothing could account for the scents.
Whatever it was, it was starting to rattle her.

Readers should read this book …

Readers who have a love for a multi-layered story that mixes past with present and wraps it around two complex characters that were literally destined to be together should add I Am Ayah to their reading list. The novel is rich in rarely recognized times in history while satisfying the reader’s yearning for a contemporary story. The secondary characters truly round out the novel with interesting stories and quirks of their own. And of course the simmering love between Alessandra and Zach will touch every heart.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

I’m currently working on my novel entitled Unfinished, scheduled for release in late 2024 early 2025. In the meantime, I have also been working on another novel entitled Nola and Balwin which is another historical/contemporary blend that revolves around the era of the Pullman Porters.

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: A signed hardcover copy of I Am Ayah–The Way Home

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: Do you prefer couple with an “instant” attraction, that is hot from the beginning, or one that builds over time, teases the couple and the reader until it explodes? Why?

 
a Rafflecopter giveaway

 
 

Excerpt from I Am Ayah–The Way Home:

Zach closed his eyes and inhaled her scent, allowed himself the momentary pleasure of holding her in his arms, feeling the soft curves of her body pressed against him. Comforting and protecting her.
From the moment they’d met, Alessandra Fleming felt familiar, but not familiar at the same time. From that first instant, there was a sudden inexplicable aching, a longing inside him for her, something he’d never felt before, something deep and ancient, old as time itself. It made about as much sense as the sensations that Alessandra said she’d experienced since she’d arrived in Sag Harbor.
He didn’t believe in all that ‘at first sight’ foolishness. He was a scientist for heaven’s sake. He gathered evidence. He dealt in facts and things he could put his hands on, not this out of reach elusive world that he’d stumbled around in. There was no reason for him to be this attracted to a woman he barely knew.
But he was. Every inch of him was.
All he could do now was return to what he was trained to do. Start with the problem: a beautiful, feisty, complicated woman drops into your life. What are you going to do about it? Are you going to run? Or are you going to stay?
“I’m…sorry,” she mumbled against his chest. She lowered her head and eased out of his arms, and for some inexplicable reason, he felt as if someone had cut his circulation off. Her body melding with his had charged the blood rushing through his veins. Now the rush had ceased, and he wanted that feeling back again.
He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger and looked into her eyes. “Nothing to apologize for.”
For several moments they looked into each other’s eyes stared at each other, stunned, confused, searching for the answers that were just out of reach.
Zach cleared his throat. “Alessandra, I…”
He watched her slender throat move, the parting of her lips, the welcome in her eyes, and before he realized what he was doing, he pressed his mouth against hers.
He inhaled her sigh, felt her lips yield to his. When he cupped the back of her head and drew her tight against his mouth, her lips parted and the tip of her tongue teased his with sweetness.
His gut tightened. The hum of his groan strummed in his veins. A heady whirlwind of emotions carried him beyond the moment to something outside of himself. Something soft, welcoming him home; to the place he’d been searching for. But how was that possible?
“Zach,” she whispered against his mouth.
The tenderness of her voice awakened him from the dreamlike space.
He blinked the here and now back into the room and with a deep breath eased away. “I…I shouldn’t have done that.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.
“Why not?” Her husky voice sounded thready.
His pulse jumped. He gazed into Alessandra’s eyes before drifting down to catch the rapid rise and fall of her chest that seemed to match his.
“It’s an emotional time. You’re in a vulnerable place and—”
She cut him off with her mouth, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed against him until the throb between his legs pulsed like a heartbeat. He groaned.
Her fingertips pressed into his back, slid down and around to his front and unfastened the button of his jeans, when the lights flickered.
At first he thought it was the jolts of pleasure that were shooting through him until the room went dim, and the house grew silent.
Alessandra jerked back, blinked in confusion and looked around. “Did the power just go off?”
Zach walked to the end table and turned the switch on the lamp. Nothing. He flicked the wall switch. Nothing. “Thought we might have dodged a bullet, but it doesn’t look like it. Be right back.”
He strode out of the living room, opened the front door and stepped outside. He dragged in a breath of cold air to clear his head and calm his body, then looked around. All the street lights were out and the lights that usually lit the front lawns of the homes were dark.
Moments later, he returned inside. “Power is out all over.”
Alessandra plopped down on the couch with a shaky laugh. “And here it was I thought it was our sparks that shorted out the lights,” she said. “Now what?”

Excerpts. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 
 

Book Info:

Set amid Sag Harbor’s vibrant African American history, bestselling author Donna Hill weaves a stunningly rich story about finding the way home…no matter how long the journey takes.

Alessandra Fleming has spent most of her life running from her past. Her budding photography career, her life in Manhattan, all serve to distract from the secrets and guilt she’s never been able to face. Then the call. Her estranged father is in the hospital…and Alessandra must return home to Sag Harbor, crumbling the first wall between her past and her present.

For some, coming home is a relief. For Alessandra, it’s a reminder of the family she’s lost, of the time she’ll never regain. But the answers—the secrets—of her family are hidden in the house, waiting for her. And the only one who may be able to help her uncover them is her father’s neighbor, Zach, who brings with him an attraction that’s intense and instantaneous, yet oddly familiar.

Now Alessandra is being pulled back not only into her own complex family history, but into the richly documented lives of four extraordinary women. Generations touched by tragedy and triumph, despair and hope. And it’s in these aching echoes of the past that Alessandra’s own story—her mistakes and her capacity to love—will take shape, guiding her to the life she’s meant to live…and the extraordinary person she will become.
Book Links: Amazon | B&N | Goodreads |
 

Meet the Author:

Donna Hill began her career in 1987 writing short stories for the confession magazines. Since that time she has more than 100 published titles to her credit since her first novel was released in 1990, and is considered one of the early pioneers of the African American romance genre. Three of her novels have been adapted for television. She has been featured in Essence, the New York Daily News, USA Today, Today’s Black Woman, and Black Enterprise among many others. She has received numerous awards for her body of work—which cross several genres– including The Career Achievement Award, the first recipient of The Trailblazer Award, The Zora Neale Hurston Literary Award, The Gold Pen Award among others, as well as commendations for her community service. As an editor she has packaged several highly successful novels, and anthologies, two of which were nominated for awards. Donna is a graduate of Goddard College with an MFA in Creative Writing and is currently in pursuit of her Doctor of Arts in English Pedagogy and Technology. She is an Assistant Professor of Professional Writing at Medgar Evers College and lives in Brooklyn, NY, with her family. Her most recent novel Confessions In B-Flat, received a Starred review from Publisher’s Weekly and is being adapted for the screen by Amblin Partners and executive produced by Academy Award winner Octavia Spencer. Her upcoming novel is I Am Ayah—The Way Home, which also received a starred review from Publisher’s Weekly. She can be found at donnaohill.com
Website | Facebook | Instagram |