Sinners & Saints

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  4. Mae Frances seems like a fairy godmother to Jasmine. Do you think their friendship is beneficial for Jasmine? How about for Mae Frances? How did you perceive Mae Frances’s role over the course of the ABC conference?

  5. Rachel reminds Lester that “faith without works is dead” (p. 22). And Hosea is described as walking in his faith, while Jasmine works in hers (p. 33). What do you think of this idea of faith? Do you think you can be faithful without deeds? Are the first ladies faithful in their actions? What about the pastors?

  6. Rachel’s plan to sabotage Jasmine’s arrival is cut short when current first lady Cecelia offers Jasmine’s family half of their floor. What did her generosity make you think of Cecelia? Were you proven correct or incorrect?

  7. There is a strong divide between Jasmine and Rachel, and it’s exacerbated by their backgrounds (country versus city, North versus South, etc.). Rachel takes pride in looking good for less, while Jasmine enjoys her designer brands. With which mind-set did you empathize? Do you love a bargain or an indulgence? How does the North/South divide impact their mind-sets? What could the ladies learn from each other about their different hometowns?

  8. At different points in the novel, both Jasmine and Rachel find themselves humiliated in public. Do you think each of the women handled it well? Did one outshine the other in a mortifying moment? What’s the best way that you’ve found to deal with embarrassment?

  9. How are Lester and Hosea similar? Are their relationships with their respective wives markedly different, or do they interact in comparable ways? How do each of the pastors relate to God through word? Did you find yourself rooting for one or the other in their race to be president of the ABC?

  10. What did you think of Cecilia’s shifting alliances? Does she seem to truly favor one of the pastors (and his wife) more than the other? How would you characterize this woman, who has so much sway within the ABC?

  11. At what point in their rivalry do you think Jasmine and Rachel cross a line? Which revelation or accusation or insinuation was the point at which you would have stood up and said, “Enough!” Have you ever taken a rivalry too far? What made you realize it was time to stop the conflict?

  12. Discuss the ending of Sinners and Saints. How do you think Jasmine and Rachel’s interactions will change now that the outcome of the presidential race has been decided? Will it change at all? What do you predict for the next novel starring these two powerful women?

  13. Sinners and Saints is written by two authors—Victoria Christopher Murray and ReShonda Tate Billingsley. Did you notice any indication of the two authors? If so, how did this affect your reading of Sinners and Saints? If you have read any of their previous novels, did you pick up on any similarities in the writing?

  A Conversation with Victoria Christopher Murray and ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  How did the idea to write a book together come about? Did you two coordinate it, or was it suggested to you?

  Well, that’s a common thread that we both heard when we were out on our individual tours. Everyone would say, “Jasmine and Rachel should meet up.” At first, we just laughed it off, but then when people started debating who would win in a Rachel-Jasmine battle, it seemed inevitable that these ladies would meet.

  What was it like working together, letting two such beloved heroines interact? What was the writing process like? Did you plot it out together or hand off the manuscript, playing off each other’s ideas?

  This was the most fun either of us have ever had writing a book. We tried to lay out a general outline (which of course, changed along the way) but for the most part we fed off each other’s creativity. In fact, reading each other’s chapters only fueled our fire. We found ourselves trying to one-up each other after every chapter.

  How did you decide to set Sinners and Saints in Los Angeles? Was it the only place you thought to put the convention, or did you toy with the idea of holding it in one of the heroines’ hometowns? How do you feel the neutral ground plays into the story?

  From the start we wanted a neutral location. Since Jasmine was living in New York and Rachel was living in Houston, we felt Los Angeles would be the ideal spot for the conference to take place.

  What is it about the first ladies that lead them to make promises first—giving $1 million, knowing Regina West—and worry about fulfilling those pledges later? Did you intend for the characters to act similarly in this way?

  Both Jasmine and Rachel’s downfall is they sometimes act first and think later. At the spur of the moment, neither woman wants to be outdone, which is why they go overboard with their pledges and promises of what they can accomplish. We never planned for them to act similarly. We just let our characters be who they are, and their similarities showed.

  Victoria, how do you write characters from different generations so seamlessly? Do you have an easier time with characters of one age, or is it equally challenging to get all the voices right, regardless of the characters’ ages?

  That’s interesting; I’ve never paid attention to the differences in my characters’ ages, though I work very hard making sure that each of my characters has an authentic voice. I’m not sure age has as much to do with it as does the content of their character. Whichever character, I just try to stay true to who they are—that takes in everything including their ages.

  Both Jasmine and Rachel have to grapple with their pasts in order to do what’s right for their families and churches. Do you think that their checkered lives give them more depth than more perfectly behaved characters? Do you empathize more with their sinful or their saintly sides?

  Rachel and Jasmine are actually fan favorites for a reason—they are flawed characters who in their hearts want to do right, but can’t ever seem to stay on the righteous path. That’s why their sinful sides seem to garner the most empathy. That’s also something women from all walks of life can relate to.

  ReShonda, you often write about a whole cast of women. Is it easier to write a story centered around one main female character, or do you prefer to write ensemble pieces? Tell us about the difference between writing these two different types of novels.

  I actually don’t have a preference. I simply enjoy getting into the minds of my female characters. When I’m centering a story on more than one main character, I have to be more focused to make sure each of them has their own unique voice. But I actually like the challenge of doing that.

  You both have fantastically crafted websites that offer ways to get in touch with you via the site, Twitter, and Facebook. What is the most common feedback you get from readers? Have you ever incorporated that feedback in your writing? How connected do you feel to your fans?

  We both always joke about how accessible we are to readers. We both try to answer all of our e-mail; we interact with readers on Facebook and Twitter. What we hear the most is how much readers enjoy the books. We also hear a lot from people who want us to come to their area and do book signings.

  Who are the sinners and who are the saints? With which character do each of you empathize with the most?

  Hmmm, good one. Well, we definitely know Rachel and Jasmine are nowhere near sainthood! (Although if you were to ask them, they’d both probably claim they were the saints.) Both Lester and Hosea are as close to saints as you’ll get in this book. If anyone deserves empathy, it’s those two men, because their wives are truly out of control!

  Finally, what can you tell us about your next book together? What’s in store for Rachel and Jasmine, and when can readers expect to get their hands on the next installment?

  What’s so great about this project is that when we started, we had no idea who would win the election. Actually, we were nearing the end of the book, and we still had no idea. Then, when the events unfolded as they did, we knew the door was opening for book number two. You know, even though the battle may have been won, the war is far from over. Now that a new president is installed, these two women will have to work together, and deal with some danger that they find themselves embroiled
in. We can’t wait for readers to check out that book as well!

  Enhance Your Book Club

  1. Have your own vote! Make a ballot box (or just use a hat), and have everyone write down on a slip of paper the name of the pastor they would have voted for if they were at the ABC election. Tally the votes and see who comes out on top!

  2. The pastors and first ladies each use scripture and prayer to help them through the hard times. Have a Bible on hand and give all participants the opportunity to share their favorite scripture passage, prayer, or personal motto. What kinds of help do you need throughout the day?

  3. If members of your book club are not Baptist, visit a Baptist church. If members are Baptist, visit another Christian denomination for Sunday services. After the celebration, talk with one another about the differences and similarities between the church services you’ve experienced.

  Turn the page for an excerpt of Forever an Ex

  by Victoria Christopher Murray

  Coming in June 2014 from Touchstone Books

  Chapter

  One

  Whoever said that a kiss was just a kiss had never kissed Bobby Johnson.

  He had kissed me again. Seven days ago. On Christmas. And, I’m telling you, I saw stars.

  Now, maybe it wasn’t that Bobby was all that great a kisser. Maybe it had more to do with him being the love of my life, at least until 2007 when he’d made the stupid mistake of breaking up with me and going back to his wife.

  That Christmas kiss had stayed in my heart and on my mind. When I was awake, I thought about it and every time I closed my eyes, I dreamed about it.

  Just like now.

  My body was trying to wake up, but I was floating in unconsciousness. You know, that place where your eyes are wide shut—you’re half awake, half asleep. I was holding on to the sleep part because I wanted to keep dreaming about that kiss.

  My lips were right up against Bobby’s and it was so deliciously good. So good that I started hearing bells—no, not bells, my ears were ringing.

  But then . . . the ringing kept on and on and on, messing up my dream flow.

  Dang! That was nothin’ but my cell phone, and I was pissed. My dream was interrupted and now I was awake, too? Who would call somebody so early on New Year’s Day? Not that I knew the exact time, but if I hadn’t already eaten breakfast, then it was too early for somebody to be hitting me up.

  My first thought was to just let my cell ring. But my eleven-year-old daughter, Angel, had spent the night with Monet, her best friend, so I had to answer . . . just in case.

  So right before the call went to my voice mail, I grabbed my cell from the nightstand. Without even opening my eyes, I mumbled, “This had better be good.”

  “What’s up, Asia?”

  My eyes popped right open.

  “Happy New Year!”

  I pushed myself up, tugging the sheet along to cover my nakedness. “Uh . . . good morning. Happy New Year to you, too, Bobby,” I said to my ex, my daughter’s daddy, and the Adonis of my dreams.

  “I guess I woke you up.”

  “No.” I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to look decent, though I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like we were FaceTiming or anything. “I’m glad you called.”

  “Yeah, I remembered that little superstition you had about a man calling your house first on New Year’s.”

  He remembered that?

  “So, I hope that I was the first.”

  “You are. And now I’ll be blessed for the whole year.”

  He chuckled. “That’s what I wish for you.”

  Then, a moment of silence. I tried to think of something profound to say that would keep Bobby talking. But before I could come up with anything . . . a moan. And not just a regular moan . . . a loud, long, masculine moan that stretched through time and my bedroom . . . and went right through my cell phone, too.

  Dang! I thought, looking down at the body stretched out in my bed.

  “Oh,” Bobby said. “You have company. I should’ve known. Last night being New Year’s Eve . . .”

  “No, I don’t,” I said as I kicked through the tangled sheets until I was free and away from Rocco. I had on not a stitch of clothing, but I didn’t care. I jumped out of my bed and jogged straight into the hallway. “That was . . . just the TV,” I said. “Yeah, yeah, it was the TV. I had it on last night and must’ve fallen asleep.”

  “I’d thought you would’ve been out partying the New Year in.”

  “Well, uh . . .” I didn’t want to keep all of this attention on my lie, so I said, “I’m really happy you called.” Now, that was the truth. Like I said, I hadn’t stopped thinking about my ex since I’d spent Christmas Day at his house with his wife, and our daughter.

  “Well, I don’t want to keep you. Just wanted you to know how much I care for you and how I wish you nothing but God’s best.”

  I sighed and smiled and tingled all over.

  He finished with, “And, I just wanted to wish you . . .”

  “Happy New Year,” we said together, then chuckled together, too.

  “Thanks again for being my first, I mean, the first . . .”

  “I know what you mean.” Then, after a pause, he added, “Asia, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and in a few days I’d like to come over . . . and talk.”

  I inhaled.

  He said, “After what happened on Christmas . . . we really need to talk.”

  “Okay.” My smile was so wide that my cheeks hurt. I’d been wondering how he felt about that, and now I knew. He was in the same place I was. That kiss had brought back all kinds of feelings, all kinds of memories, all kinds of wonder about why we’d ever broken up.

  “I’ll call you, okay?”

  “Yeah.” What I really wanted to say was, Come over now, but I’d let him lead this dance.

  He clicked off and I did the same. That three-minute call was like a shot of caffeine straight into my veins. What a way to begin 2014.

  “Baby, what’re you doing out here?”

  Before I could even face him, Rocco was on top of me, kissing my neck with his morning breath. I used the heels of my hands to push him off.

  “What’s up?” he said, backing away, but only a little. “I want to start off the New Year right.”

  “We did that last night.” As I marched back into my bedroom, I was mad that I’d run out without any clothes on. Because now Rocco was walking right behind my au naturel glory.

  Most of the time I liked using my body to turn men on. In fact, if I had to tell the truth, that’s how I made my living. My job was to maintain my size-four figure, be beautiful, and I got paid for keeping rich men company. I mean, not outright paid. It wasn’t like we went out and they gave me money. But after a couple of dates, the gifts started flowing: diamonds, pearls, furs, shopping sprees at Neiman’s, and vacations anywhere there was a beach and a Ritz-Carlton.

  As far as Rocco was concerned, my job was done. I hoped Rocco wasn’t turned on because I was so turned off. After hearing Bobby’s voice, I didn’t want Rocco anywhere near me. So when he wrapped his arms around my waist and pushed his full-blown nature against my butt, I wiggled away.

  “What’s up?” He held out his arms, beckoning me to come back. “Why you keep doing that?”

  “You have to go,” I said, cutting straight to the chase.

  He frowned like he no longer understood English. “Go where?”

  Did he really want me to answer that? I mean, it wasn’t like Rocco and I had anything going on. It was just that sometime around Labor Day, I realized I didn’t have a guy for the holidays.

  Not that there was any kind of shortage of men in my life. I was still on the circuit and still in circulation. Plenty of athletes had my number locked in their phones. It was just that the calls were fewer. After all, no matter how much I maintained,
I was thirty-five, which was ancient in the pro basketball/football/baseball/track groupie arena.

  Now, don’t get it twisted—I wasn’t a groupie. I was more of a trophy girlfriend, who was working on becoming the trophy wife. No matter what you called it, though, it was my only ticket out of my ratchet life in Compton all those years ago. I needed to marry a rich athlete.

  Once I set my mind to it, I’d met Bobby Johnson, the star of the Los Angeles Lakers. He wasn’t my first choice ’cause he was already married. But he’d wooed me so hard that I’d believed he’d leave his wife for me.

  Clearly, I was wrong. ’Cause six years ago, Bobby decided that he was happy with the wife he had, and didn’t want a new one.

  “So, what’re you saying, Asia? You really want me to go?” I turned around, almost forgetting that Rocco was still here. And I watched the new center for the Lakers pimp-strut toward me.

  Now I had the chance to take in all of his naked glory, and boy, was this dude fine. Forget about being ripped in the right places, Rocco was ripped in every place. Everywhere there was a muscle, it was defined. And then, that face. He was Christopher Williams (that old R&B singer from back in the day) dipped in deep, dark chocolate.

  When Rocco wrapped his arms around me, I was tempted to jump right back in bed and let this twenty-four-year-old show me what he could do. But the moment our lips touched, Bobby’s lips came to mind, and again, I pushed Rocco back. “You know I would love to.”

  He gave me a goofy grin that said, Of course you would, who wouldn’t?

  I started to burst his oversize ego bubble, but instead I said, “But you have to go. Angel will be home soon.”

  Everything on that man deflated when I mentioned my daughter’s name. “Oh,” he said.

  All the guys knew that I didn’t date in front of my child. This wasn’t the example I wanted to set for her, and not the life I wanted her to have. But I wasn’t going to be one of those do-as-I-say mothers. Angel never saw me with all these men.