Hudson U's new sexpert makes her debut in Dear Delilah by T. Bester.
Find out what Delilah has to say in a small teaser of this 99cent coming of age RomCom!
Find out what Delilah has to say in a small teaser of this 99cent coming of age RomCom!
Dear Delilah is a coming of age romance that will take you on a journey of self-discovery and taking command of one’s sensuality in a crazy dating world.
But this sexpert will be doing so in a very public way.
But this sexpert will be doing so in a very public way.
EXCERPT
I frown at the ‘assignment’ Toby gave me and try to make sense of what it is exactly he wants me to do with it. It’s not a reader’s question, or any question really, but rather an in-depth analysis of the female orgasm.
Yes. You read that correctly.
The female orgasm.
The ever elusive ‘O’.
God. Remind me why I said yes to this madness?
Right. Because some poor girl out there needs my help, and what better place to start than the orgasm. Except, I’ve only experienced it once, and even then, I was a little too preoccupied with the feel of Nathan’s body on top of mine to really pay attention to what my vagina was doing. I mean, other than stretching for Nathan’s - enough.
Concentrate, Savannah.
Shit.
Okay.
I can totally do this.
With one final glance at the piece of paper in my hand, I scrunch it up and toss it in the trashcan beside my bed. If I’m going to do this, it needs to be my way, even if I have to learn as I go.
So, I start where any sane girl would. Google.
I type in, the female orgasm, and scan the results until I find something based on legitimate research and not some new age crap about aligning your heart ‘chakra’ with your vaginal ‘chakra’. A poll of 12, 925 undergrad students from ten different universities across the country and what they call the orgasm gap catches my attention.
Basically, it’s ‘orgasmic inequality’.
The reality that men are more likely to orgasm during sex, while their partners are left to fake it or finish after he’s got his. Under normal circumstances, I would laugh it off, but if I’m honest, I keep reading because I find it interesting, if not a little infuriating.
I mean, why is it that women are not getting their rocks off during -
“Why are you googling the female orgasm?”
I scream. “Jesus, Zoey!” I slam my laptop closed, my heart beating in my ears. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She snickers, and leans her hip on my desk. “Your door is open. I thought I’d surprise you, and by the looks of it, I have.”
My cheeks warm. “I was just reading about -”
“The female orgasm. I know.”
God. Just kill me now. Please.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter. I stand, and make a show of getting ready for bed, even though it’s barely gone 8 p.m. I’d come home after my chat with Brian and after a hot bath, decided to distract myself with something. And since Zoey was out, I figured I’d be safe to focus on the assignment from Toby. Clearly, I was wrong, and now Zoey’s looking at me with a devilish smirk, and a raised brow.
“You know, if you have a thing for porn, that’s -”
“Oh, my God, NO! Zo, that’s not what I was doing. Not even close!”
She raises her hands. “Hey, I’m not here to judge. Let your freak flag fly, sister.” Her amusement is not helping my case, or helping me feel better.
“It’s not what you think,” I insist. “I was just…” I hesitate, knowing full well that, technically, I’m not allowed to give away my identity as Dear Delilah. Toby promised me anonymity and that includes me keeping my mouth shut about the column. But, I also don’t want Zoey thinking I’m some porno freak who gets off on watching other people bumping uglies. Not that there’s anything wrong with people who are into that kind of thing - Shut up, Sav! - “I was doing research, okay? Research. For the paper.” Vague enough, but Zoey is unappeased by my explanation.
“If you say so.” She spins on her heel, and I’m quick to follow, determined to have this cleared up before I research anything else that will make me look crazy. She stops in her room, and slips her boots from her feet.
“Seriously, it’s not what you think, okay?” Why the thought of her thinking otherwise bothers me so much, I don’t know, so I go for the truth, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. “Toby asked me to write the sex advice column for the paper.”
Zoey stops short, her eyes wide. “He did what now?”
“I’m being serious. He gave me my first assignment today. That’s what I was researching.”
Zoey stares at me a little longer, until her gaze makes me shift on my feet. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone it’s me,” I add quietly.
“And you said yes?” she asks, dubious.
I flop down onto her bed. “Well, kind of. He said the paper doesn’t have the budget to get someone new, and all the other journalists are too busy, so he asked me.” Asked is putting it lightly, but that’s either here nor there.
I wait a few seconds, hoping she’ll say something, and then her face splits into a grin, her full lips baring pearly white teeth. Zoey is a stunner, with vivacious red hair that touches her shoulders, and blue eyes, so light and clear - and right now they look somewhat excited.
“This is so cool!” She sits down on her bed, and faces me. “So, what are you going to write about?”
Talk about a change in tack. I relax, and silently thank the Pope that Zoey isn’t laughing at me. Lord knows that if the roles were reversed, I would be.
“From what I understand, students, mostly female, are going to write in and I have to answer their questions. But the first assignment is what he chose. I’m not entirely sure yet how it’s going to work, or if I can even do it, but Toby seems to think I’m perfect for it.” Wherever he got that foolish idea is still beyond me. “He hasn’t given me a whole lot of information about the technicalities, just a whole bunch of research on female sexuality.”
“Why do you look,” she pauses, searching for the right word. “Traumatized by the idea?”
“Because most of the time, the women who write these columns have the experience necessary to give good advice, Zo. I’m clueless.”
I know I agreed to write the column, and I’ve committed to it, but that doesn’t mean the doubts don’t swim around my head. “And if the column fails it will be because people will know I’m a fraud.”
“So, have a little fun with it and get experience. They always say we learn best by doing.”
“Be serious, Zoey!”
“I am. You should get someone to help you, a sexy boy toy who can show you all the moves. That’s what I would do.”
“Oh yeah, because just about any guy would agree to sleep with me just so that I can write about it,” I huff.
“Uh, hell yeah they would, and you know it. You know they’re always bragging about the amount of sex they have. Too bad us girls can’t do the same thing, huh?”
“That’s why I agreed to do it,” I reply. “Because there’s one set of rules for guys, and another set for girls.”
Zoey raises her hand. “Preach it!”
I snicker, and she jumps up from the bed. “I think you should do it. Sav. Do it for the girls, you know? How hard could it be?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I quip. “I’ve only seen it once -” I slap my hand over my mouth, mortified. Zoey’s eyes round.
“Oh, my god,” she laughs. “Your first sex joke!” Her laughter dies a quick and painful death. “And you were talking about my brother!”
“No, I wasn’t, I was -”
“Nah uh, you get one free pass and that was it.”
Wait a minute. How did she… “You know?”
Zoey’s face says it all, but of all the things I feel, mad is not one of them. I fall back on to Zoey’s bed, and cover my face with my hands. The bed dips.
“He didn’t tell me, Sav. I sort of guessed when he called me after you left. And if it’s any consolation, I ignored him for a week afterwards for being such a tool.” She pries my hands from my face. “Are you mad?”
I heave out a breath. “I thought I would be, I mean I was embarrassed when I found out Toby knows, but for some asinine reason I’m glad Nathan had you to talk to. Despite what he did, I still worry about him. Stupid, right? To care about someone who hurt you?”
Something flits through Zoey’s eyes, a shadow I never thought I’d see, but just as soon as I see it, it’s gone.
“Yeah, I get it.” Her voice is soft, but laden with a profound sense of knowing. I never knew why Zoey left Austin, I never asked her, but right now, I get the distinct impression it’s because she was hurt. Maybe she understands my feelings better than I do, and I think that’s why I’m not angry. I need a friend, a girlfriend I can talk to about anything without having to justify how I feel. Someone who gets it, without explanation. The fact that Nathan used to be that for me doesn’t slip my mind, but I’m quick to dismiss it.
“Hey.” I touch Zoey’s hand. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She shutters her expression and pastes on a smile. “So, you want to tell me what you learned about the female orgasm?”
“Oh, God,” I moan, rolling onto my side.
Zoey snickers. “Your second sex joke, go you!”
I slap her arm, and can’t help but laugh with her. “You have a dirty mind, Zoey Penn.”
She winks. “You have no idea.”
“Maybe you should write the column,” I suggest, only half-serious.
“I don’t think so, but I’m happy to find you a naughty little helper.”
Yes. You read that correctly.
The female orgasm.
The ever elusive ‘O’.
God. Remind me why I said yes to this madness?
Right. Because some poor girl out there needs my help, and what better place to start than the orgasm. Except, I’ve only experienced it once, and even then, I was a little too preoccupied with the feel of Nathan’s body on top of mine to really pay attention to what my vagina was doing. I mean, other than stretching for Nathan’s - enough.
Concentrate, Savannah.
Shit.
Okay.
I can totally do this.
With one final glance at the piece of paper in my hand, I scrunch it up and toss it in the trashcan beside my bed. If I’m going to do this, it needs to be my way, even if I have to learn as I go.
So, I start where any sane girl would. Google.
I type in, the female orgasm, and scan the results until I find something based on legitimate research and not some new age crap about aligning your heart ‘chakra’ with your vaginal ‘chakra’. A poll of 12, 925 undergrad students from ten different universities across the country and what they call the orgasm gap catches my attention.
Basically, it’s ‘orgasmic inequality’.
The reality that men are more likely to orgasm during sex, while their partners are left to fake it or finish after he’s got his. Under normal circumstances, I would laugh it off, but if I’m honest, I keep reading because I find it interesting, if not a little infuriating.
I mean, why is it that women are not getting their rocks off during -
“Why are you googling the female orgasm?”
I scream. “Jesus, Zoey!” I slam my laptop closed, my heart beating in my ears. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
She snickers, and leans her hip on my desk. “Your door is open. I thought I’d surprise you, and by the looks of it, I have.”
My cheeks warm. “I was just reading about -”
“The female orgasm. I know.”
God. Just kill me now. Please.
“It’s nothing,” I mutter. I stand, and make a show of getting ready for bed, even though it’s barely gone 8 p.m. I’d come home after my chat with Brian and after a hot bath, decided to distract myself with something. And since Zoey was out, I figured I’d be safe to focus on the assignment from Toby. Clearly, I was wrong, and now Zoey’s looking at me with a devilish smirk, and a raised brow.
“You know, if you have a thing for porn, that’s -”
“Oh, my God, NO! Zo, that’s not what I was doing. Not even close!”
She raises her hands. “Hey, I’m not here to judge. Let your freak flag fly, sister.” Her amusement is not helping my case, or helping me feel better.
“It’s not what you think,” I insist. “I was just…” I hesitate, knowing full well that, technically, I’m not allowed to give away my identity as Dear Delilah. Toby promised me anonymity and that includes me keeping my mouth shut about the column. But, I also don’t want Zoey thinking I’m some porno freak who gets off on watching other people bumping uglies. Not that there’s anything wrong with people who are into that kind of thing - Shut up, Sav! - “I was doing research, okay? Research. For the paper.” Vague enough, but Zoey is unappeased by my explanation.
“If you say so.” She spins on her heel, and I’m quick to follow, determined to have this cleared up before I research anything else that will make me look crazy. She stops in her room, and slips her boots from her feet.
“Seriously, it’s not what you think, okay?” Why the thought of her thinking otherwise bothers me so much, I don’t know, so I go for the truth, no matter how ridiculous it sounds. “Toby asked me to write the sex advice column for the paper.”
Zoey stops short, her eyes wide. “He did what now?”
“I’m being serious. He gave me my first assignment today. That’s what I was researching.”
Zoey stares at me a little longer, until her gaze makes me shift on my feet. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone it’s me,” I add quietly.
“And you said yes?” she asks, dubious.
I flop down onto her bed. “Well, kind of. He said the paper doesn’t have the budget to get someone new, and all the other journalists are too busy, so he asked me.” Asked is putting it lightly, but that’s either here nor there.
I wait a few seconds, hoping she’ll say something, and then her face splits into a grin, her full lips baring pearly white teeth. Zoey is a stunner, with vivacious red hair that touches her shoulders, and blue eyes, so light and clear - and right now they look somewhat excited.
“This is so cool!” She sits down on her bed, and faces me. “So, what are you going to write about?”
Talk about a change in tack. I relax, and silently thank the Pope that Zoey isn’t laughing at me. Lord knows that if the roles were reversed, I would be.
“From what I understand, students, mostly female, are going to write in and I have to answer their questions. But the first assignment is what he chose. I’m not entirely sure yet how it’s going to work, or if I can even do it, but Toby seems to think I’m perfect for it.” Wherever he got that foolish idea is still beyond me. “He hasn’t given me a whole lot of information about the technicalities, just a whole bunch of research on female sexuality.”
“Why do you look,” she pauses, searching for the right word. “Traumatized by the idea?”
“Because most of the time, the women who write these columns have the experience necessary to give good advice, Zo. I’m clueless.”
I know I agreed to write the column, and I’ve committed to it, but that doesn’t mean the doubts don’t swim around my head. “And if the column fails it will be because people will know I’m a fraud.”
“So, have a little fun with it and get experience. They always say we learn best by doing.”
“Be serious, Zoey!”
“I am. You should get someone to help you, a sexy boy toy who can show you all the moves. That’s what I would do.”
“Oh yeah, because just about any guy would agree to sleep with me just so that I can write about it,” I huff.
“Uh, hell yeah they would, and you know it. You know they’re always bragging about the amount of sex they have. Too bad us girls can’t do the same thing, huh?”
“That’s why I agreed to do it,” I reply. “Because there’s one set of rules for guys, and another set for girls.”
Zoey raises her hand. “Preach it!”
I snicker, and she jumps up from the bed. “I think you should do it. Sav. Do it for the girls, you know? How hard could it be?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I quip. “I’ve only seen it once -” I slap my hand over my mouth, mortified. Zoey’s eyes round.
“Oh, my god,” she laughs. “Your first sex joke!” Her laughter dies a quick and painful death. “And you were talking about my brother!”
“No, I wasn’t, I was -”
“Nah uh, you get one free pass and that was it.”
Wait a minute. How did she… “You know?”
Zoey’s face says it all, but of all the things I feel, mad is not one of them. I fall back on to Zoey’s bed, and cover my face with my hands. The bed dips.
“He didn’t tell me, Sav. I sort of guessed when he called me after you left. And if it’s any consolation, I ignored him for a week afterwards for being such a tool.” She pries my hands from my face. “Are you mad?”
I heave out a breath. “I thought I would be, I mean I was embarrassed when I found out Toby knows, but for some asinine reason I’m glad Nathan had you to talk to. Despite what he did, I still worry about him. Stupid, right? To care about someone who hurt you?”
Something flits through Zoey’s eyes, a shadow I never thought I’d see, but just as soon as I see it, it’s gone.
“Yeah, I get it.” Her voice is soft, but laden with a profound sense of knowing. I never knew why Zoey left Austin, I never asked her, but right now, I get the distinct impression it’s because she was hurt. Maybe she understands my feelings better than I do, and I think that’s why I’m not angry. I need a friend, a girlfriend I can talk to about anything without having to justify how I feel. Someone who gets it, without explanation. The fact that Nathan used to be that for me doesn’t slip my mind, but I’m quick to dismiss it.
“Hey.” I touch Zoey’s hand. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She shutters her expression and pastes on a smile. “So, you want to tell me what you learned about the female orgasm?”
“Oh, God,” I moan, rolling onto my side.
Zoey snickers. “Your second sex joke, go you!”
I slap her arm, and can’t help but laugh with her. “You have a dirty mind, Zoey Penn.”
She winks. “You have no idea.”
“Maybe you should write the column,” I suggest, only half-serious.
“I don’t think so, but I’m happy to find you a naughty little helper.”
☆☆☆☆☆☆
MORE ABOUT DEAR DELILAH
It has been said that boys and girls can never be ‘just’ friends, and until Nathan Penn barged into my life, I thought it was complete and utter nonsense. But one night changed everything, and what I thought was the defining moment in our friendship turned out to be more than either of us were ready for.
When my boss tasks me with writing the University’s new sex advice column, Dear Delilah, I make it quite clear that I’m the least qualified person for the job - my experience is limited to one sexual encounter that taught me about love and loss all at once.
So what makes me say ‘yes’?
Simple.
A distraction.
Something to take my mind off Nathan.
But once I start, I find myself wanting to be the voice of the girl who’s too afraid to ask for advice, the girl who wants to own her sexuality but doesn’t know how. Sounds easy enough.
Except it isn’t.
It’s complicated, and messy and awkward, and when Nathan offers to help, I’m caught between a rock and his hard place. Literally.
It's only when my identity is threatened that I realize I might be in over my head. With all of it.
It has been said that boys and girls can never be ‘just’ friends, and until Nathan Penn barged into my life, I thought it was complete and utter nonsense. But one night changed everything, and what I thought was the defining moment in our friendship turned out to be more than either of us were ready for.
When my boss tasks me with writing the University’s new sex advice column, Dear Delilah, I make it quite clear that I’m the least qualified person for the job - my experience is limited to one sexual encounter that taught me about love and loss all at once.
So what makes me say ‘yes’?
Simple.
A distraction.
Something to take my mind off Nathan.
But once I start, I find myself wanting to be the voice of the girl who’s too afraid to ask for advice, the girl who wants to own her sexuality but doesn’t know how. Sounds easy enough.
Except it isn’t.
It’s complicated, and messy and awkward, and when Nathan offers to help, I’m caught between a rock and his hard place. Literally.
It's only when my identity is threatened that I realize I might be in over my head. With all of it.
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☆☆☆☆☆☆
Tamsyn is a writer, reader, aspiring editor and Publishing student from South Africa. When she's not getting lost between the pages of a novel from one of her favorite authors, she's spending time with her family and three fur babies, Denver, BamBam and Benji.
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