SORMAG Goodies

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Ask Nicely and I Might by Lorraine Elzia

2010-12-24T06:58:00.000-08:00

A twisted game of bewildering intrigue proves positive that

six degrees of separation bridge the gap

between the sane and the insane.

Alex Carlysle is a savvy homicide detective highly respected among her peers and on the fast track to make Captain. When her lover becomes the latest victim in a series of brutal murders, the investigation of the killings becomes personal for her. Not only has she lost the only man who ever understood her, but also catching the killer could be the break she has been waiting for concerning her career.

Jade, on the other hand, resides on the opposite side of the law, abiding by a different set of rules - its Jade's way, or no way. Instead of enforcing the law, she is the thorn in its side. Motivated by an urge for revenge, she is a sexy enigma of a serial killer who taunts the police just for the pleasure of it while devouring her

prey in the process. As the hunter becomes the hunted, two women, both at the top of their game, are destined for a massive head-on collision with each other. But the thrill of pursuit is not the only tie

that binds them; they are also both driven by blood shed and a chain of circumstances that began in the subconscious mind.

Ask Nicely and I Might is a racy thriller - fast, furious, and filled with sexy suspense. A wicked game of cat and mouse where time is rapidly running out and with the hunter and hunted lives on the line, they have everything to fight for . . . and everything to lose.

http://www.lorraineelzia.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Cutting Truths - 50 Enlightening Slices of Life by Michael Levy

2010-12-23T06:59:00.000-08:00

Investigating journalism meets inspirational expressions as Levy explores education, finance, media, mythology, religion, science, philosophy and ancient traditions.

In Cutting Truths, probing questions are asked;

Are religions based on superstition and fallacies?

Can newspapers, magazines, Internet blogs, TV news and other media outlets be trusted to deliver truthful reports?

If we lose faith in people who deceive where can we turn for authentic information?

Do we really have to suffer and wait till we progress to Heaven before we can enjoy ourselves?

Does hell really exist, if so where is it?

50 enlightening slice of life reveal answers that essentially allow the reader to discover their own home baked truths and find out how real they are. Levy does not say he knows absolute truth, in fact he declares nobody on earth can claim to hold sole possession of truth.

However, Levy does point out what is not true and made-up from intellectual propaganda, myths, fallacies and partial falsehood.

Someone once said; nothing can stop and idea whose time has com … Cutting Truths is right on cue to deliver what the public demand ... A free mind released from hype, flim-flam, sensationalism, skullduggery and outright deceits so that they can enjoy life as nature intended.

Michael explains; in life there are but two pathways from which we can choose;

On the first pathway, truth can be sliced into little pieces and turned into propaganda and lies. This is then sliced into Perceptions, Ideas, Thoughts, Suggestions = Pits. It is then twisted into be-lie-f and non be-lie-f systems that divide people, which in turn causes mayhem and suffering.

This path is not compulsory. You have a choice

Alternatively, on pathway two, pre conceived concepts, theories and belief systems are dismantled by truth so that the thinker of the thought lives a genuine fulfilling life without fear or prejudice. In everyone's lifetime, results will speak for themselves … Are you ready to leap into an investment that can produce prosperous self-assurance?

On the bigger world scene the author probes the possibilities of human extinction via the ignorance of tribal divisions, pollution and other man-made follies. He states that only veracity can set humanity free but the question now remains is humanity ready to handle the - Cutting Truths?

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Her Healing Ways by Lyn Cote

2010-12-22T07:30:00.000-08:00

Her Healing WaysFinal in Gabriel Sisters series

ISBN# 0373828497
ISBN-13: 978-0373828494

Unconventional, Unafraid, Unwelcome.

A female physician with an adopted black daughter? The townsfolk of
Idaho Bend will never accept Dr. Mercy Gabriel—even when faced with a deadly cholera epidemic. But all Mercy needs is one man willing to listen…and to trust.

Four years of war command turned Lon Mackey into a footloose gambler who can't abide attachments. Yet he can't help getting riled by the threats Mercy keeps receiving. Her trailblazing courage could reignite his faith and humanity. And his loyalty could make her dream—for the first time—of a family of her own….

http://www.lyncote.net/
http://strongwomenbravestories.blogspot.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Different Flags

2010-12-03T08:05:00.000-08:00

Different Flags
Eugenia Marie Renskoff

Different Flags is the story of Ani, a sensitive young woman. In 1982 she travels from San Francisco back to her native Argentina. Once in Buenos Aires, Ani experiences culture shock and falls in love with a young Catholic priest.

http://www.differentflags.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Beauford Place

2010-12-01T07:38:00.000-08:00

Beauford Place
by Gwandine

Travel back in time in a fictional place known as Tradassa Town situated in the south during the year 1881 where two people unbeknownst of one another become acquainted under unexpected circumstances. After the death of Mary Ellen’s father Benjamin, she meets Nathan Jonah Hickey who is the hired ranchman of her father’s estate and an attractive singing cowboy known for his genteel mannerism.

Nathan’s love for Mary Ellen Beauford begins the day they meet upon her return to Beauford Place. Being an accomplished woman of color from a wealthy family and a recent college graduate, the austere Mary Ellen tries to show resilience to Nathan’s feelings. This is partially due to the fact that her only example of a good man was her late father who was a successful businessman.

Behind Nathan’s smooth dark complexion and deep brown eyes lies a terrible secret known only by him. If he shares his secret with her, will she be able to handle it? Will it destroy him?

Visit http://theblackwest.com/ or http://theblackcherokee.com/

AUTHOR:

Throughout her years as a historical researcher and author, Gwandine has found a niche for writing sweet inspirational romantic stories. Her English Literature professors complimented her creative writing skills.

She is the founder of Gwandine Black Cherokee Cowgirl Studios (GBCCS). GBCCS was formed to publish her novels, categorize her paintings and sculptures depicting African-American cowboys and Native-Americans, record audio narrations, and further her research regarding “Black Indians.”

Gwandine is the wife of a pastor. She has always enjoyed sweet romantic stories. Her passion and persistence in creative writing and classical literature stems from childhood when she preferred to write stories rather than play.

She has self-published inspirational Black western romance and adventure novels including intrigue and a book of inspirational romantic poetry under the following titles: Beauford Place, A Love Worth Finding, The Ethiopian Princess and the Cameroon Knight, Murder in Manalapan, and Poetic Peace. Other works consist of her graphic novels Jade Qi and The Anointed Atura, which feature her comic book characters, illustration, inking, and dialogue skills.

Her initial work was published during grade school. With her background in communications, she has written press releases, news advisories, public service announcements, proclamations, and articles for magazines. She also produced over 40 spiritual television productions as a certified video producer and editor. She formerly worked as a graphics editor, graphic artist, webmaster, paralegal, and a proofreader. She has also written inspirational quotes for the church website.

She presently writes inspirational historical romance and adventure stories involving African-American cowboys and Cherokee Native-Americans as she is of Cherokee and African descent. Although her stories and characters are fictional, African-American cowboys have existed since the dawn of the cowboy era as well as the historical accounts of the vital role that the African-American Buffalo Soldiers played in the settlement of the southwest. She is the creator of African-American cowboy and cowgirl graphic novels (comic books) titled The Black West, The Black Cherokee Cowgirl, and The Disguised Debutante.

Gwandine is an accomplished artist as she enjoys painting the wild west on canvas to design her book covers. She is also an accomplished figurative sculptress whose work has appeared in several international magazines. She has donated artwork to the Wilberforce Museum and Cultural Center.

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Piano In The Dark

2010-11-22T06:44:00.000-08:00

Piano In The Dark
By Eric Pete

Chase Hidalgo has a successful career, a loving wife, and a loyal best friend, but something is still missing. His unfulfilled dreams leave him unsure of his place in the world. Then a chance meeting with a mysterious stranger changes everything.

Ava claims to know Chase, but he has no memory of ever having met her. Still, something about her intrigues him. She seems to know so much about him; she has insight into his deepest feelings and desires, things he’s never even told his wife. He can’t resist this enigmatic woman, and soon the two are involved in a passionate affair.

It isn’t long before Chase starts to wonder just how Ava knows so much about him. What is their true connection? As he searches for answers, his life is coming apart at the seams, and Chase is beginning to wonder if he’s lost his grip on reality. Ava is a woman who will stop at nothing to regain what she believes she’s lost, and if Chase can’t find the right key to unlock this mystery, there could be dire consequences.

Website: http://www.ericpete.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Delilah by Shelia M Goss

2010-11-19T06:00:00.000-08:00

Delilah by Shelia M Goss

Behind every successful man is a good woman. The downfall of a good man is a woman up to no good.

Thirty-year-old Samson Judges is a prominent pastor of the Peaceful Rest Missionary Baptist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana. His church owns land that real estate mogul William Trusts wants. When Samson refuses to sell, William hires Delilah Baker to find out Samson’s Achilles heel.

Money isn’t Delilah’s only motivation for taking the assignment. After watching Samson every Sunday morning on a local television station, Delilah has fallen in love with him. In her mind, there is only one person standing in her way of getting Samson—his fiancée, Julia Rivers.

Samson is far from innocent. He feels his longstanding relationship with God puts him above reproach. His weakness for one woman, Delilah, threatens to ruin his relationship with Julia, his parents, and his church. When he realizes the length Delilah will go through to get her man, Samson vows to protect his ministry by any means necessary.

Website: http://www.sheliagoss.com/ or http://sheliagoss.com/books/christian-fiction/delilah/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: The Food Enchantress

2010-11-17T07:02:00.000-08:00

The Food Enchantress, the sequel to The Food Temptress, takes readers on another journey with Ambrosia Bourgeois, the New Orleans Goddess of Gastronomy. She continues to seduce men with food in hopes of converting them into the perfect mate. This time she tries her luck on the east coast; however, she meets her match - Lucius Delight, a chef. Join Ambrosia on her quest for both love and culinary perfection.

Website: http://www.foodtemptress.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: MERRY ACRES WIDOWS WALTZ

2010-11-15T08:01:00.000-08:00

Merry Acres Widows Walz

By Nan D. Arnold

They say retirement kills. And it looks that way in MERRY ACRES, a planned community in South Florida for the over-fifty-five crowd. Husbands are dropping fast. Georgiana Duncan wonders who will next wear the black veil of widowhood. Should she be worried....or happy about such dire prospects? Perhaps, like Georgiana, other wives in Merry Acres have secrets, too. Skeletons rattling around personal closets that so mar the gloss of happily-ever-after that only murder can make amends.

http://www.nandarnold.com/books.html

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Rivals in Paradise

2010-11-12T05:53:00.000-08:00

Rivals in Paradise
By Gwyneth Bolton

Contemporary Romance

Cicely Stevens needs the vacation of a lifetime. After being cheated on by her boyfriend and passed over for a promotion, she's off to the Caribbean for a weekend of hot island fun. And there's no sexier bad boy than her old college rival Chase Yearwood, who's on the same plane en route to his lush estate…and whose kiss Cicely never forgot. When he takes her in his arms again, he's more irresistible than ever. But will she lose her heart before this fling is flung?

They call him the "Wolf" because of his legendary skills in the boardroom—and the bedroom. Now is Chase's chance to even the score with the woman who once beat him at his own game. But can rivals in business become passionate partners in love? Under a romantic tropical moon, he'll seduce her with a passion that will have her begging for more!

http://gwynethbolton.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Prey for the Wicked

2010-11-11T06:09:00.000-08:00

Prey for the Wicked

Sheila Peele-Miller

Where innocent sleeps . . . Evil lurks! Twenty-year old Janeen Cooper wasn't born with the best of anything. But one thing she knew for sure, her mother loved her and wanted nothing but the best for her only child. When Janeen's mother dies unexpectedly, her life takes a drastic turn and she winds up in the one place she was warned to never go, Williamston , NC . Convinced there's no chance for happiness, Janeen meets Sheriff Sergeant Adam Sinclair. Adam has money. He has power. And he has the charm to win her trust. She quickly learns, however, that he is not the saint he appears to be and is forced to leave the state with just the clothes on her back. In a new city , Janeen tries to start over again. Yet, she is still haunted by the events that transpired prior to her untimely departure: the mysterious disappearance of someone she loves dearly and a possible murder plot involving her former lover. Longing for the truth, Janeen makes a bold decision to return to Williamston. There she faces the biggest challenge of her life. She must confront Adam. Ultimately, she makes a shocking discovery that could destroy his family's name. It could also mean her death.

http://www.sheilapmiller.com/

BOOK TRAILER: RAMBLINGS by Angelia Menchan

2010-11-10T07:19:00.000-08:00

"RAMBLINGS is an inspiring and thought-provoking call to action that anyone would benefit from reading. From the first word to the very last, I was moved by Menchan's voice which is filled with a love of family, passion for mentoring, and the importance of understanding & loving yourself. " - Tee C. Royal, Founder of RAWSISTAZ.com

Website - http://www.angeliamenchan.com/

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Amazing Grace

2010-11-08T07:36:00.000-08:00

Amazing Grace
By Donna M. WatfordThis riveting and heart-felt testimony reveals God in each chapter of Donna's life and on every page of the book. Just when you were convinced that God is a distant being, and much too busy with managing the complexities of the world; He is revealed in an inspiring book of a girl growing up in Philadelphia, PA with her mother, Carolyn V. Jackson. The daughter is raised in a Christian home and through great sacrifices of her mother, she is availed every opportunity to become an upright and productive citizen in society, but as too many others, Donna travels a dark path. Her saving grace is the fact that Jesus remains in her heart. The story wraps up with a poem of encouragement by Dr. Howard Thurman, Song of the Angels. This story written for Christmas, offers a timely message of love: John 3:16, and concludes with extending everlasting life: Romans 10:9.

In memory of Carolyn V. Jackson, the United Negro College Fund will receive donations from book proceeds. For an autographed copy, order using PayPal: http://www.donnamwatford.com/blog/.

Available in Online Bookstores and Barnes and Noble.

ISBN number: 978-0-9796998-6-3

Look for the Talking Matters of the Heart book tour. Donna M. Watford, RN will be discussing Heart Failure. Book an event @ 800-807-7952.

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Be Careful What You Pray For

2010-11-05T05:56:00.000-07:00

Be Careful What You Pray For
by Nicole S. Rouse

Be careful what you pray for is an old adage, but one that Maya Richards comes to discover is more than just a cliché.

Third grade teacher Maya Richards has been with her soulmate, Kenneth Green, for over ten years. She never doubted that Kenneth would one day ask for her hand in marriage, but on the eve of their anniversary, Maya asks a question that Kenneth struggles to answer.

When their relationship ends abruptly, Maya finds herself alone for the first time in thirteen years. She turns to family and friends to help deal with her heartbreak, but is left to heal on her own. Instead of seeing this time as an opportunity to get closer to God, feeling lost, Maya begs God to send her a new mate. Impatient and desperate, Maya begins a relationship with gym teacher Lloyd Bradford despite the many warning signs.

As she struggles to escape a dangerous situation, Maya learns that the relationship that matters most in life is the one that she has with Christ. Will Maya have the strength to break away from Lloyd’s tight reigns, or will she trust God and allow Him to restore peace in her life?

Website: www.nicolerouse.com

BOOK SPOTLIGHT- Head in the Clouds by Karen Witemeyer

2010-11-04T06:00:00.000-07:00

ABOUT THE BOOK

Adelaide Proctor is a young woman with her head in the clouds, longing for a real-life storybook hero to claim as her own. But when a husband-hunting debacle leaves her humiliated, she interviews for a staid governess position on a central Texas sheep ranch and vows to leave her romantic yearnings behind.

When Gideon Westcott left his privileged life in England to make a name for himself in America's wool industry, he never expected to become a father overnight. And five-year-old Isabella hasn't uttered a word since she lost her mother. The unconventionality of the new governess concerns Gideon--and intrigues him at the same time. But he can't afford distractions. He has a ranch to run, a shearing to oversee, and a suspicious fence-cutting to investigate.

When Isabella's uncle comes to claim the child--and her inheritance--Gideon and Adelaide must work together to protect Isabella from the man's evil schemes. And soon neither can deny their growing attraction. But after so many heartbreaks, will Adelaide be willing to get her head out of the clouds and put her heart on the line?

If you would like to read the first chapter of Head in the Clouds, go HERE.

Book Spotlight - Home Again

2010-11-03T07:06:00.000-07:00

About The Book

Home Again is a compelling journey into the relationships that matter most: family, friends and self. Each story is founded on natural love, but will require the Father’s love to heal the brokenness.

Travel with husbands and wives, brothers, sisters, friends and families as they maneuver through life’s hurts and betrayals while leaning on a power greater than themselves.

Part 1

Part 2

Purchase the anthology online at:
• Amazon.com - http://www.amazon.com/Home-Again-Stories-Restored-Relationships/dp/0979045819/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1287861077&sr=8-1

• BarnesandNoble.com - http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Home-Again/Wanda-B-Campbell/e/9780979045813/

View the Blog Tour Schedule at http://bit.ly/HomeAgainBlogTour.

BOOK SPOTLIGHT - The Preacher's Bride by Jody Hedlund

2010-11-01T10:32:00.000-07:00

In 1650s England, a young Puritan maiden is on a mission to save the baby of her newly widowed preacher--whether her assistance is wanted or not. Always ready to help those in need, Elizabeth ignores John's protests of her aid. She's even willing to risk her lone marriage prospect to help the little family. Yet Elizabeth's new role as nanny takes a dangerous turn when John's boldness from the pulpit makes him a target of political and religious leaders. As the preacher's enemies become desperate to silence him, they draw Elizabeth into a deadly web of deception. Finding herself in more danger than she ever bargained for, she's more determined than ever to save the child--and man--she's come to love.

If you would like to read the first chapter of The Preacher's Bride, go HERE.

BOOK SPOTLIGHT: Covenant of Lies the Revealed Truth

2010-10-30T08:24:00.000-07:00

Covenant of Lies the Revealed Truth

By Holly Spence

Monarch Publications

ISBN-10: 0578065819

ISBN-13: 978-0578065816

Click to purchase book

The drama, lies, deceit, and hidden secrets are revealed in this second release of the Covenant of Lies trilogy. Continue to follow the lives of the McFinley, Richardson and Taylor families. What will become of Jill and Shane's budding relationship? Will the long time relationship between Henry and Carl survive the years of deceit and lies? Will Marcie's relationship with her father be the final straw for Selma? "Covenant of Lies The Revealed Truth" is the second book in the "Covenant of Lies" series of self created web of lies by Author Holly Spence.

http://www.covenantoflies.webs.com/

Right Package, Wrong Baggage Blog Tour

2010-10-06T07:30:00.000-07:00

Wanda B. Campbell is an extraordinary and talented writer who brings creativity, a new sense of hope, and restoration through the healing power of God to the Kingdom, by way of Christian fiction. She uses real life everyday issues to exhort, motivate, and give comfort.

Wanda B. Campbell’s literary achievements include: Mommy’s Present, a short story appearing in the anthology The Midnight Clear (KNB Publications, November 2006) ISBN 0-9742207-0-1, First Sunday in October (W.B. Campbell Publications, January 2007) ISBN 978-0-9790458-0-6 and the Crusin for Christ I Short Story Contest winner with Illusions by Urban Christian, February 2009, ISBN 978-1601629432. Right Package, Wrong Baggage is her third novel.

Wanda currently resides in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband of twenty years and two sons. She also has the unique position of being the oldest of five siblings and also the youngest of twelve. Her hobbies include writing and reading of course, traveling, and collecting magnets from around the world. Wanda is the self-proclaimed biggest Oakland A’s fan.

Wanda, tell us about Right Package, Wrong Baggage.

My current book is Right Package, Wrong Baggage. I love this story. It has romance, comedy and drama. It’s the sequel to my first published short story, Mommy’s Present in The Midnight Clear. Readers will remember little six-year-old Matthew Roberts who went on a mission to find his mother the perfect Christmas present-a husband. Right Package, Wrong Baggage picks up from there.

Micah Stevenson turns out be the perfect package for Pamela Roberts. He loves God, is a great role model for her son, and has good credit plus, he’s handsome.

As Micah and Pamela build a solid relationship, everything appears perfect. That is until Micah trusts Pamela with his heart and shares his tainted past with her. Will the man he used to be prevent Pamela from loving Micah for the man he is now?

How did you come up with ideas for this book?

Basically, I let my character dictate the story.

Who are your main character(s)?

Pamela Roberts, a widowed single mother and Micah Stevenson, a dedicated Christian with an interesting past.

Did you have a favorite character(s)? Who and why?

My favorite character in Right Package, Wrong Baggage is Micah. I love his honesty and sensitivity. He is a man of integrity and he places the needs of others above his own. Most of all, his courage is something to be admired.

What do you hope readers will learn/discover from reading Right Package, Wrong, Baggage?

First, there is a reason behind every action a person does. Second, don’t judge a person by their actions. Third, don’t hold ones past against them; we all have one. And last, but most important, always extend love and forgiveness.

Okay, a not-so-fun question. How important are reviews to you as a writer?

I’ve had both good and not so good reviews and I enjoy the feedback. Some of the comments have helped me grow as a writer.

About the Book

For five years, Pamela Roberts, has balanced the demands of being a single mother and a devoted Christian. She unselfishly places the needs of her son, Matthew, above her own. Although she tries to convince everyone that she’s happy with Jesus alone, Matthew handpicks the perfect present for her—a husband. Everything about the man her son chooses is perfect, except for his past.

Micah Stevenson is excited when he learns the son of the woman he has been praying about wants him to join their family permanently. Believing Pamela Roberts is his soul mate sent from God, Micah pursues her. Once he is certain of her love for him, Micah reveals his dark history, shaking the foundation of the once loving and stable relationship. Trust is broken as judgments and prejudices threaten to deny the couple’s destiny.

Will the man he used to be prevent Pamela from loving Micah for the man he is now?

Podcast

Purchase the Book Online at:

• AMAZON.COM - http://www.amazon.com/Right-Package-Wrong-Baggage-Campbell/dp/1601628617/ref=sr_1_1?s=gateway&ie=UTF8&qid=1285720732&sr=8-1

• BARNES & NOBLE - http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Right-Package-Wrong-Baggage/Wanda-B-Campbell/e/9781601628619/?itm=1&USRI=right+package+wrong+baggage

• BOOKS A MILLION - http://www.booksamillion.com/product/9781601628619?id=4715246323067

• BORDERS - http://www.borders.com/online/store/TitleDetail?sku=1601628617

• INDIEBOUND - http://www.indiebound.org/book/9781601628619

For More Information

• Visit the authors at http://www.wandabcampbell.net/.
• View the blog tour schedule at http://bit.ly/RightPackageWrongBaggage

If you enjoyed this post, please consider becoming a member of SORMAG's community - Join Today

The Only Way is Up Blog Tour

2010-09-22T07:30:00.000-07:00

Folake Taylor is an outpatient Internal Medicine Physician in the suburbs of Atlanta Georgia. She is married with a little girl. She obtained her residency training at the Morehouse School of Medicine in Atlanta after her initial medical education in Nigeria. She was born in the United Kingdom to Nigerian born parents.

The Only Way is Up

This book features the author’s experiences and views on pertinent life issues as an immigrant to the United States of America. The objective is to empower women. However, the greater part of the message is of relevance to a general audience. Some of the issues that are the focus of this book are:

• Identity
• Health & Preventive medicine
• Finding a mate
• Relationships & Family
• Single parenthood
• Teenage pregnancies
• Gender roles
• Diet & Nutrition

PODCAST

Book Trailer

Purchase the Book Online at:

• Amazon – http://www.amazon.com/Only-Way-Up-Journey-Immigrant/dp/0982667205/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpt_1

• BarnesandNoble – http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/9780982667200/?itm=1

• Books A Million – http://www.booksamillion.com/product/9781448618019?id=4715246323067

• Indiebound - http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780982667200

For More Information

• Visit the author online at http://www.theonlywayisup.net/.

• View the blog tour schedule at http://bit.ly/TheOnlyWayisUpTour

BOOK INTRO: Crossing Color Lines

2010-08-16T07:02:00.000-07:00

Crossing Color Lines focuses on racial relations, comes at a good time, as people around the country have a renewed sense of hope regarding this issue since President Obama s election. Now that he has taken office, people are beginning to talk about the need for equality based on opportunity, and about how his winning the election has changed things, explains d. E. Rogers, author of the book, which is being published by REGI Books and is available online and in bookstores. Race in America is an issue that we may finally be able to start addressing. Crossing Color Lines follows the story of Chase Cain, someone who as a child witnessed the brutal hanging of his father. Since he has lighter skin, he is able to use in a way that he believes will be his advantage, and pass as a white man. He sets out to gain all the things he desires friends, love, and wealth but ultimately the way he has chosen to live his life ends up causing his demise. The novel asks a candid question that many of us have pondered: If you had the opportunity to choose your race, would you remain true to your birthright, or would you opt for the race that you believe can provide you with the greatest benefit? That is a question that the main character must answer, live and experience. We always think that other people have it so much better, adds Rogers. But would you want to make such a fundamental change, or would you choose to stick with the race into which you were born? It s a hypothetical question, but one that we should all consider. This latest book focuses on real-life drama. By taking this approach, Rogers shows that he has the ability to look race issues in the eye, bringing them to the forefront in a compelling and riveting manner.

d. E. Rogers is a dynamic, charismatic, magnetic, powerful and intelligent person who has been successful in all facets of his life. Coming from humble beginning, he has accomplished a lot in his short time on earth. Rogers has a bachelor’s degree in Telecommunications Management and Production from Purdue University and an MBA from Bethel College. He has also attended Stanford University for Project Management, the University of Notre Dame for Executive Leadership and Management, and the New York Film Academy for filmmaking.

d. E. Rogers has written five great novels (White Lie, Color Line, Just Like Your Daddy, I Know She Didn’t, and Counterfeit Friends). His books have had increasing and incredible sales records. On every project, Rogers has taken his writing skills to the next level where few have gone. His stories are rich in reality and tell of real life love and drama that all can relate to. The characters jump from the pages and into your life as though they were long time friends. After reading one of his books, you will want to read another.

His short film titled, The Aftermath has been screened at several film festival across the country. The Aftermath was a finalist at the Motor City Film Festival in Detroit. He is now in preproduction of a film project and documentary that he plans to shoot during 2010.

The intangibles that he brings to the table are an outstanding background in the entertainment industry, exemplary expertise in screenwriting, and solid experience in directing and producing films. To complement these qualifications, he has strong problem solving talents, and exceptional organizational abilities which should prove instrumental in producing this film.

FEATURED AUTHORS FOR AUGUST

2010-08-03T12:45:00.000-07:00

Jennifer Coissiere – August 4

Debut Author

Francine Craft – August 5 BT

Deborah Hall Branch – August 6

Laurie Alice Eakes – August 9

Lorraine Eliza – August 13

D. E. Rodgers – August 16

Liz Johnson – August 19 BT

Lawanna Campbell – August 20

Brook Blander – August 23

Chicki Brown – August 27
Debut Author

Elaine Cantrell – August 30

Rose for Melinda by Lurlene McDaniel

2010-08-02T09:25:00.000-07:00

Rose for Melinda
by Lurlene McDaniel

Publisher: Laurel Leaf
Reprint - August 13, 2002
ISBN-10: 0553570900
ISBN-13: 978-0553570908
Young Adult

Reviewed by Trae Candelario

“This was my first read of Lurlene McDaniel’s and it got me hooked. A Rose for Melinda, is by far one of the best novels I’ve read all year. It is full of lessons describing the disappointment of fleeting friendships, along with the excitement of lasting ones. Melinda is an accomplished ballerina diagnosed with a life threatening disease. Although she is slowly deteriorating and her dreams are slipping away, Jesse stays by her side. That is the true meaning of friendship, and it proves to Melinda that her life isn’t over yet. I recommend this book to anyone who loves dramatic romance. It is well written and suitable for anyone over the age of fourteen. A Rose for Melinda will leave you speechless and on your toes. It will defiantly make you cry tears of joy and sorrow. The surprise ending will make you want to read this again and again.”

Save The Best For Last by Bettye Griffin

2010-08-02T09:14:00.000-07:00

Save The Best For Last
Bettye Griffin

Bunderful Books
ISBN-10: 0615306217
ISBN-13: 978-0615306216
Contemporary Romance

Rating: 4 Stars – EXCELLENT

Reviewed by LaShaunda C. Hoffman

Genevieve L’ Esperance is a graphic artist living a good life. When her Visa expires she finds she can’t return to her homeland. Her friend Barry suggests they marry and he hides her away in Harlem until his divorce is final. Barry wants more than a marriage of convenience and Genevieve isn't ready for that type of commitment. As she dodges the INS, she tries to figure out another way to fix her dilemma.

Genevieve meets the law student, Dexter Gray sharing the other room on the floor. They both feel the attraction between them, but decided to keep it platonic.

Dexter has his own dilemma; he needs funds to finish his law degree. Genevieve still needs a husband, and she proposes a deal that changes their relationship forever.

I enjoyed reading Save The Best For Last. It was fun watching Genevieve and Dexter fall for each other. Genevieve fought the attraction, but Dexter let the feelings flow. Even though he was a struggling law student, he didn’t let that stop the romantic in him. I also liked he always ate his dessert first. As a person who is known to eat dessert first, I could relate.

Ms. Griffin has written a story that every romance reader will enjoy. You’ll find yourself turning the pages quickly to see what’s in store for Genevieve and Dexter.

Sistergirl Devotions – Keeping Jesus In the Mix on the Job by Carol M. Mackey

2010-08-02T09:09:00.000-07:00

Sistergirl Devotions – Keeping Jesus In the Mix on the Job
Carol M. Mackey

Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
May 2010
ISBN-13: 9780800733971
ISBN: 0800733975

Christian Non-Fiction

Rating: 4 Stars – EXCELLENT

Reviewed by LaShaunda C. Hoffman

Ms. Mackey offers devotionals for the working girl. She shares her work experiences and then offers advice in the situation and words of encouragement.

Each lesson is something everyone can relate too or has experienced and she shows you that you can make it through them too.

A working woman needs all the encouragement she can get and this is one book she should keep on her desk. I wish I’d had it when I first started work.

Who Speaks to Your Heart?: Tuning in to Hear God's Whispers by Stacy Hawkins Adams

2010-08-02T09:05:00.000-07:00

Who Speaks to Your Heart?: Tuning in to Hear God's Whispers
by Stacy Hawkins Adams

Publisher: Zondervan
April 2010
ISBN-13: 9780310292715
ISBN: 0310292719
Christian Non-Fiction

Rating: 4 Stars – EXCELLENT

Reviewed by LaShaunda C. Hoffman

As a fan of Stacy Hawkins Adams I was looking forward to reading her first non fiction book. I was not disappointed. It surprised me because I wasn’t expecting it to speak to my own heart. I learned how to be a better listener and how to spend more quality time with God.

Ms. Hawkins Adams shared her own testimony while offering a lesson to help the reader improve their relationship with God.

This book will make an excellent gift for the college bound student. It is also a perfect book for those who want to build a better relationship with God.

Destination Love by Gwynne Forster

2010-08-02T08:44:00.000-07:00

Destination Love
Gwynne Forster

Kimani Romance
Kimani Press
ISBN-13: 978-0-373-86157-6
Published: July 2010
Romance

Rating: 4 ½ STARS – EXCEPTIONAL

Reviewed by Vicki Brooks

This is a story about two individuals who grew up in two different environments and somehow managed to fall in love. They both came from two-parent homes that were on opposite ends of life’s spectrum.

Professor Sheri Stephens had a not-so-normal childhood that impacted her love life. She never saw her parents touch, let along kiss or be intimate in anyway. She knew her parents loved her, but this was based on her academic achievements only and not on their affections. In her heart she knew this was not what she wanted or longed for in a relationship. Consequently, she hadn’t given a relationship much thought until she met a stranger on a cruise ship.

This stranger was Dr. Dalton Wright who grew up in a loving, caring environment where he saw his parents caress and show affections each day of his life. He knew this was what he wanted in a relationship. Somehow his paths crossed with Sheri Stephens and he showed her how to love.

Lift Me Higher by Kim Shaw

2010-08-02T08:32:00.000-07:00

Lift Me Higher
Kim Shaw

Kimani Romance
Kimani Press
ISBN-13: 978-0-373-86159-0
Published: April 2010
Romance

Rating: 5 STARS - SUPREME

Reviewed by Vicki Brooks

This is the first book I’ve read by Kim Shaw and to say the least, it won’t be the last. I loved “Lift Me Higher”. Monte Lewis is every woman’s dream man. I fell in love with his character. He loved and respected all the women in his life. This included his ailing Mom, deceased wife and his newly acquired love, Torie Taylor. And to top it off he loved and cared for his two well-mannered sons. After his wife’s death, he swore to never love again until he was smitten by Torie, who also swore to never love again based on her last relationship. Once the two met, they threw passion to the wind. A must read for all romantics.

Samson by Jacquelin Thomas

2010-08-02T08:25:00.000-07:00

Samson
Jacquelin Thomas

Gallery Books
ISBN-13: 978-1-4391-0940-3
Published: May 2010

Christian Fiction

Rating: 5 STARS - SUPREME

Reviewed by Vicki Brooks

Samson was a BAD “Mamma-Jamma”. I liked this novel because the characters were just as REAL today as they were during biblical times. I could see many of the situations from my own life weaving in and out of this story. Samson was a charismatic preacher that thought he had it all together, but he was just like most of us – full of himself. If you’re like me and ever wondered what it would be like if the Bible was written today – then you need to read Mrs. Thomas’ 2010 version of Samson. It will be a reality check.

Not Quite What It Seems by Mari Walker

2010-08-02T08:16:00.000-07:00

Not Quite What It Seems
Mari Walker

St. Martin’s Press
ISBN-13: 978-0-312-37541-6
Published: April 2010
Mainstream Fiction

Rating: 3 ½ STARS - GREAT

Reviewed by Vicki Brooks

If you enjoy the dance scene, you’ll enjoy the trials and tribulations of Jadyn, a talented dancer to say the least. Not only is she struggling to make it in the very difficult entertainment business, but she also has serious challenges on the home front. Her live-in boyfriend Taji is very controlling. Like most of us her life isn’t perfect and although some of her decisions are not so good, I commend this young girl for deciding to make a change to better herself and her situation. By doing so she decides to find her biological Father not knowing what to expect. During her journey she quickly realizes that things in life are not quite what they seem.

FLASHBACK: Vows by Rochelle Alers

2010-01-14T07:49:00.000-08:00

FROM THIS DAY FORWARD......

On a well-deserved vacation in exotic Mexico, sensible, pratical accountant Vanessa Blanchard allows a maelstrom of desire to turn her world upside down. She's not sure why she dared to trust gorgeous, mysterious Joshua Kirkland, a man who revealed very little about his past...or their future together. All she knows is that she fell in love with a man who made her his, and then disappeared without a trace. Now Joshua haunts her days with desperate questions and torments her sleepless nights with remembered ecstasy.

But Joshua Kirkland hasn't abandoned the woman he branded with his passion. Though his mission began as a game of seduction fueled by suspicion, it has now turned into a daring race to confront the deadly danger that threatens the love of a lifetime...and the woman he loves.

This book sealed my love for romances. I fell in love with Joshua Kirkland as I read each page and from then on, I judged other heros by him. It was hard to find another hero worthy of him. I will say, Dix Wildhorse gave him a run for his money, but that's another flashback for later.

Did you miss this book? Pick up your copy TODAY.

Which hero did you fall in love with?

If God Is Good

2009-09-25T08:05:00.000-07:00

Every one of us will experience suffering. Many of us are experiencing it now. As we have seen in recent years, evil is real in our world, present and close to each one of us.

In such difficult times, suffering and evil beg questions about God--Why would an all-good and all-powerful God create a world full of evil and suffering? And then, how can there be a God if suffering and evil exist?

These are ancient questions, but also modern ones as well. Atheists such as Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and even former believers like Bart Ehrman answer the question simply: The existence of suffering and evil proves there is no God.

In this captivating new book, best-selling author Randy Alcorn challenges the logic of disbelief, and brings a fresh, realistic, and thoroughly biblical insight to the issues these important questions raise.

Alcorn offers insights from his conversations with men and women whose lives have been torn apart by suffering, and yet whose faith in God burns brighter than ever. He reveals the big picture of who God is and what God is doing in the world–now and forever. And he equips you to share your faith more clearly and genuinely in this world of pain and fear.

As he did in his best-selling book, Heaven, Randy Alcorn delves deep into a profound subject, and through compelling stories, provocative questions and answers, and keen biblical understanding, he brings assurance and hope to all.

Randy Alcorn is the founder and director of Eternal Perspectives Ministries and a bestselling author. His novels include Deadline, Dominion, Edge of Eternity, Lord Foulgrin’s Letters, The Ishbane Conspiracy, and the Gold Medallion winner, Safely Home. He has written eighteen nonfiction books as well, including Heaven, The Treasure Principle, The Purity Principle, and The Grace and Truth Paradox. Randy and his wife, Nanci, live in Oregon and have two married daughters and four grandsons.

http://www.randomhouse.com/catalog/display.pperl?isbn=9781601421326

BLOG TOUR: What Is This Love Thing All About?

2009-09-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

Corey J. Barnes is a long time native of Lakeland, Florida. Currently he resides there with his son Corey Jr. He holds a Bachelor’s degree in Education, a Master’s degree in Educational Leadership, and is currently working on his PhD in Instructional Leadership and Adult Education.

Becoming an author and also establishing the publishing company CJ Publishing has fulfilled a lifelong dream for Corey as he attempts to bring true romance and integrity back to urban fiction, from a male perspective, hence his moniker, “The Renaissance Man of Romance”.

In his debut novel What Is This Love Thing All About? Corey displays that chivalry is not dead and the thrill of the chase is still present in today’s world. Presently, Corey is working on his second novel. In addition to his work as a middle school administrator, Corey also coaches high school boys basketball and his son’s little league football team. When he is not writing, he enjoys spending time with his son and working out.

What Is This Love Thing All About?

Be careful what you wish for... Is what you think you want... Really what you need?

Meet Rick Jenkins, who has everything that most would love to have in life. Great job, great looks, well educated, money, he has it all, except for one thing – a woman to share it with. A single and eligible bachelor, Rick can’t seem to even find a good woman to go on a date with, much less to think about take it to the next level. Rick is content to take life as it is until one night at a sorority fund raising function, he runs into Aphrodite Morrison and his fate changes forever.

Aphrodite is a mysterious, yet angelic woman who Rick is lost for from the first minute he talks to her. A partner in one of the top advertising companies in the Greater Atlanta area, she does not have a want for anything. There is another side to Aphrodite that looms under the surface. When she thinks she has met the perfect man, her past threatens everything that she thinks may be meant for her and happening with Rick. Fate collides with destiny and creates doubt; does anyone really know: What is this Love Thing All About?

Where were you born?

I was born in Lakeland, Florida.

Education background?

I attended and graduated from Kathleen High School in Lakeland, Fl. I obtained my Bachelor’s degree in Education, specializing in Specific Learning Disabilities and Elementary Education from University of South Florida. I then obtained my Master’s Degree in Educational Leadership from Saint Leo University. I am currently working on my PhD in Adult Education and Instructional Leadership from Nova Southeastern University.

What's your inspiration or who is?

My inspiration in all that I do is my son, CJ. He is the very best part of me and is the reason I wake up in the morning. He is my heartbeat and my motivation.

As a child, what did you want to do when you grew up?

When I was a child I had dreams of either being a pro football player or a lawyer. As you can see, neither one of them took place.

Did you ever think you'd ever become an author?

I never thought I would become an author. I love to read, but I didn’t think I would ever do it myself, even though it was one of my goals. It was one of those things where you think about something but know it will never be, but it has and it is very exciting.

How long does it take you to write a book?

It took me a total of 8 months to write my first book. I actually wrote the first character in 5 months, and went back and added in the 2nd, which took 3 more months.

When did you write your first book and how old were you?

I wrote my first book, What Is This Love Thing All About at the age of 32.

Whose writing do you admire most?

The author whose style I admire the most is Eric Jerome Dickey. I also enjoy Dwayne Joseph’s style.

Were you a good student in school?

I was actually a very good student in school.

Tell me about your revision process.

I usually read from the back to the front for corrections needed. Doing it this way makes the story pretty much gibberish and in that sense, I can just concentrate on making sure that sentence structure and things of that nature are correct.

Did you like school? What was your favorite subject?

I enjoyed school. I am a life long learner and look to continually improve myself. My favorite subject in school was English, which helped me with being an author and the next subject was Math. I hated Science in school, but did it because I had too.

BLOG TOUR: Have a New Husband by Friday

2009-09-18T07:22:00.001-07:00

Have a New Husband by Friday: How to Change His Attitude, Behavior and Communication in 5 Days
by Kevin Leman

Baker Publishing Group
Pub. Date: October 2009
ISBN-13: 9780800719128

Have a new husband by Friday? Is that even possible? Dr. Kevin Leman says it is. The New York Times bestselling author and self-help guru shows even the most frustrated wife how she can have a new husband by Friday. Leman reminds any wife that if what she's doing to get better behavior out of her husband isn't working now, it never will. So it's time for a change. That means it's time to change her own patterns of behavior. Here's how Leman suggests she handle it day to day:

Monday: Secrets Revealed: Cracking the Male Code
Yes, you're different species, but you can work together in harmony.

Tuesday: Creatures from Another Planet . . . or Creatures of Habit?

To understand men, you have to track 'em to their den.

Wednesday: Think about What You Want to Say, Then Divide It by Ten

How to talk so your guy will really listen . . . and listen so your guy will really talk.

Thursday: Think of Him as a Seal Waiting for a Three-Pound Fish

Why making love to your man is a key to who he is and how satisfied he'll be, and what's in it for you.

Friday: It Takes a Real Woman to Make a Man Feel like a Real Man

How to open your man's heart, revolutionize your love life, and turn him into the knight you've always dreamed of.

Dr. Kevin Leman is an internationally known psychologist, humorist, and bestselling author of The Birth Order Book and Have a New Kid by Friday. He is former consulting psychologist for Good Morning America and a frequent guest on The View, The Early Show, and Focus on the Family. He and his wife, Sande, live in Tucson, Arizona. They have five children and two grandchildren.

You Were Born For This

2009-09-17T07:12:00.001-07:00

His New York Times phenomenon The Prayer of Jabez changed how millions pray. Now Bruce Wilkinson wants to change what they do next.

Anyone can do a good deed, but some good works can only happen by a direct intervention from God. Around the world these acts are called miracles—not that even religious people expect to see one any time soon. But what would happen if millions of ordinary people walked out each morning expecting God to deliver a miracle through them to a person in need? You Were Born for This starts with the dramatic premise that everyone at all times is in need of a miracle, and that God is ready to meet those needs supernaturally through ordinary people who are willing to learn how Heaven works.

In the straightforward, story-driven, highly motivating style for which he is known, Wilkinson describes how anyone can help others experience miracles in such universally significant arenas of life as finances, practical help, relationships, purpose, and spiritual growth.

You Were Born for This will change how readers see their world, and what they expect God can do through them to meet real needs. They will master seven simple tools of service, and come to say with confidence, “I want to deliver a supernatural gift from God to someone in need today—and now I know how!”

Author Bios:

One of the world’s foremost Christian teachers, Bruce Wilkinson is best known as the author of the New York Times #1 bestseller The Prayer of Jabez. He is also the author of numerous other bestsellers, including A Life God Rewards, Secrets of the Vine, and The Dream Giver. Over the past three decades, Wilkinson has founded several global initiatives, including organizations that recruited and trained thousands of Americans to address hunger, AIDS, and poverty in Africa . Bruce and his wife, Darlene, have three children and six grandchildren. They live outside Atlanta .

David Kopp has collaborated with Bruce Wilkinson on over a dozen bestselling books, including The Prayer of Jabez. He is an editor and writer living in Colorado .

Girl Naw Blog Tour

2009-09-16T06:51:00.000-07:00

Meet LaCricia A’ngelle, author of Girl, Naw!

Tell us about Girl, Naw!

Girl, Naw! is the story of Antoinette Walker, a Christian counselor for women. The story outlines the lives of the women Antoinette counsels as well as her own life and issues. Antoinette takes a special interest in one of her clients that will lead to some unexpected decisions. Being confronted with people from her past that have hurt her in various ways, Antoinette is challenged to forgive them in order to possess the freedom she desires.

How did you come up with ideas for this book?

Similar to Antoinette I was in a position in which I was asked to counsel many people. On several occasions I noticed some of these people viewed my life as being perfect, which raised the question -who counsels the counselor. That thought was the basis for Girl, Naw!

Who are your main character(s)?

My main characters are Antoinette Walker, Maurice Walker- Antoinette's husband, Yvette King -Antoinette's best friend,

Did you have a favorite character(s)? Who and why?

My favorite character is definitely Yvette. I like Yvette because she is so funny. She says whatever is on her mind, and although she has an odd way of saying things, she actually makes sense. She reminds me a lot of myself.

Did you have to do quite a bit of research for this novel?

No, I didn't do a lot of research for Girl, Naw! I relied on past experiences for myself and others that I know.

What do you hope readers will learn/discover from reading Girl, Naw?

I hope readers will learn the power of true forgiveness. I also hope reading Girl, Naw! will help people to not be so judgmental of others because we never really know what's going on behind the scenes of someone's life.

Follow the blog tour at http://bit.ly/GirlNaw

For more information about LaCricia, visit her at http://lacriciaangelle.com/

PURPOSELY SAID

2009-09-09T11:58:00.001-07:00

What’s That I Hear?
By Dr. Linda F. Beed

One of the fastest growing and effective mediums for authors is the World Wide Web.

With the emergence of teleconferences and blogtalk radio, reaching the masses has been made easier and more cost effective than ever before.

What has not changed is the necessity to conduct business in a professional manner. The inability to see your audience does not negate your responsibility to respect their investment of time in you.

Before accepting your first or your next on air engagement consider the following:

• Get the Pertinent Information

Know the date, time and dial-in number no less than one week prior to engagement.
Confirm time zones to assure your timeliness and to appropriately schedule your online promotions.

• Advance Preparation

Be honest about your knowledge of the proposed topic. If the subject matter is out of your area of expertise, let it go.

If it is within your knowledge base, update materials in order to be on point.

Have announcements for your social networks and online groups ready for posting within the appropriate timeline.

Have all available handouts available for emailing or ready to post on site one week in advance of program.

Make notes to refer to and to help keep your thoughts organized.
Make list of your online contacts to read on air.

• Familiarization

Take the time to listen to prior broadcasts in order to become familiar with the program format and host’s style.

• Food

Cease from eating at least one hour prior to broadcast.
Do not eat or drink during broadcast.
If you develop a dry throat, take small sips of water when necessary.

• Background

Radio microphones are very sensitive. If possible be away from others.
Turn off televisions, radios and cell phone.

• Online Etiquette

Turn your telephone speaker up.
Talk at a level where you can be heard.
Do not talk over your host.
Be courteous to callers and other guests.
Thank your host for the opportunity, verbally and via online or written note.

• Tone

Voice inflection tells people more about what you feel than what you say does.
You may not agree with the point of view of your host of fellow panelist, but your point can be made without being offensive.

These basic points are valuable for you and your listening audience. Those tuning in have invested their time in you. Time is a commodity that cannot be redeemed. It is your job to make sure that their time was not wasted.

Until next time, remember—Purposely Said words can destroy or create a life. Linda!

Dr. Linda Beed is an educator, speaker, children’s minister and author of Business Unusual and co-moderator of BWChristianLit an online writing and mentor group. She is also review editor for KDgospel Media Magazine.

You can find her on the web at:

http://www.lindabeed.com/ / MySpace / On Assignment Reviews / BWChristianLit

Holy Rollers

2009-07-20T09:03:00.001-07:00

Julie Lyons was working as a crime reporter when she followed a hunch into the South Dallas ghetto. She wasn’t hunting drug dealers, but drug addicts who had been supernaturally healed of their addictions. Was there a church in the most violent part of the city that prayed for addicts and got results?At The Body of Christ Assembly, a rundown church on an out-of-the-way street, Lyons found the story she was looking for. The minister welcomed criminals, prostitutes, and street people–anyone who needed God. He prayed for the sick, the addicted, and the demon-possessed, and people were supernaturally healed. Lyons ’s story landed on the front page of the Dallas Times Herald. But she got much more than just a great story, she found an unlikely spiritual home. Though the parishioners at The Body of Christ Assembly are black and Pentecostal, and Lyons is white and from a traditional church background, she embraced their spirituality–that of “the Holy Ghost and fire.” It’s all here in Holy Roller–the stories of people desperate for God’s help. And the actions of a God who doesn’t forget the people who need His power.

Author Bio:

Julie Lyons is an award-winning writer, editor and investigative reporter who for more than 11 years served as editor-in-chief of the Dallas Observer, an alternative weekly newspaper owned by Village Voice Media. She holds a master’s degree in journalism from Northwestern University and a B.A. in English from Seattle Pacific University . She and her husband, Larry Lyons Jr., live in Dallas with their son.

The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn

2009-07-10T11:00:00.000-07:00

The Kidnapping of Kenzie Thorn

Myles Parsons is just another inmate in Kenzie Thorn’s GED course until he kidnaps her, offering only a feeble explanation–that he’s actually FBI Special Agent Myles Borden. Terrified, Kenzie doesn’t want to believe his story of being undercover to protect her. Moreover, she can’t believe that someone might really want her dead.

BOOK INTRO: The Soul of a Man

2009-06-26T06:36:00.000-07:00

The Soul of a Man: A Triumph of My Soul Anthology, features short stories, essays and poems by Joe Thomas, Jihad, William Fredrick Cooper, Alvin C. Romer, Marc Lacy, Maurice M. Gray, Jr., Brian Ganges, Jarold Imes, K.L. Belvin, Joey Pinkney, Thomas Ashburn, Jr., Clarence "Baba Simba" Mollock, Tyrell Floyd and Eddrick Dejuan.

Long Term (a short story)
After a season of sowing his wild oats, Nate Carter is a changed man. He’s turned his life over to God, but that doesn’t exempt him from the consequences of his past. Nate, a supervisor of temporary employees at a local credit card bank, is challenged when a former conquest comes to work for him and wants to pick up where they left off a few years prior. The man he is now struggles with the man he was. Who will win? God knows.

BOOK INTRO: TURNING JAPANESE

2009-06-25T06:31:00.000-07:00

TURNING JAPANESE

Meet Lisa Falloya, an aspiring half-Japanese, half-Italian American manga artist who follows her bliss by moving to Tokyo to draw the Japanese-style comics she's been reading for years. Leaving behind the comforts of a humdrum desk job and her workaholic fiancée, Lisa has everything planned-- right down to a room with a nice Japanese family-- but hasn't taken into account that being half-Asian and enthusiastic isn't going to cut it. Faced with an exacting boss and a conniving "big fish" manga author, Lisa risks her wedding, her friends, and her fears for a shot at making it big.

Worth a Thousand Words Blog Tour

2009-06-24T08:09:00.000-07:00

MEET STACY HAWKINS ADAMS

Stacy Hawkins Adams is a nationally-published, award-winning author and speaker. Her contemporary women’s fiction novels are filled with social themes and spiritual quests that take readers on journeys into their own souls.

Tell us about Worth a Thousand Words.

Worth A Thousand Words explores the tough decisions a young woman named Indigo Burns must make in her relationships and her career. Indigo is a recent college graduate, eager to forge her path in the world and pursue her dreams. Then she’s faced with some challenging realities that force her to grapple with who she wants to be. Indigo realizes that you have to find the courage to accept difficult truths about yourself, and about others, before you can embrace life and love others unconditionally.

How did you come up with ideas for this book?

I started with the idea of writing about a character who had everything going for her and trusted that as long as she continued to believe in God and give her best, life would be perfect. I wanted to show how such a character would persevere and mature in wisdom and in faith when life threw her a few curveballs. Ultimately, the story boils down to helping readers see that just as the pictures this character takes as a professional photographer are worth a thousand words, so are the truths she has to embrace in her life.

Who are your main character(s)?

Indigo Burns, a recent college graduate who has lived in Jubilant, Texas since childhood, is the main character. The secondary character is her fiance, Brian Harper, who is pressuring her to alter her goals so they can be together. Other important characters are Rachelle Covington (Indigo's favorite cousin and the main character in The Someday List), and Aunt Melba, who plays a pivotal role in helping Rachelle grow up and find the courage to follow her heart.

Did you have a favorite character(s)? Who and why?

Aunt Melba was one of my favorite characters in The Someday List, and she holds the title in this book,too. Because of circumstances that unfold during the novel, Melba is not as visible a character in this book, but I love her personality and her ability to "tell it like it is" without hurting people.

Did you have to do quite a bit of research for this novel?

Yes, I did. Even though I'm writing fiction, in order for the story to resonate with readers, it's important for them to enter the characters' world. To do that well, I commit a lot of time adding as many true-to-life elements to my books as I can.
Near the beginning of the book, Indigo's boyfriend, Brian, and her best friend, Shelby, leave Texas to attend Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island. Most of Brian's scenes take place in Rhode Island, and his life is consumed by the training program. To make this storyline authentic, I did extensive research on what occurs during Officer Candidate School, what the experience is like for recruits, how the commanders talk to the recruits, etc. I also extensively researched details for a personal issue that Indigo confronts.

What do you hope readers will learn/discover from reading Worth a Thousand Words?

I hope readers will journey through Worth A Thousand Words and feel empathy for these characters, because Indigo and Brian find themselves grappling with decisions most of us have struggled with in some form or fashion. I also hope that when readers put down this book, they'll reflect on their own journeys and consider how to respond when they face uncomfortable truths in their own lives.

Okay, a not-so-fun question. How important are reviews to you as a writer?

All writers want their books to be well-received and appreciated. I respect reviews and value them. Great ones make me feel good about the work I'm doing. Not so great ones challenge me to take a harder look at my work and consider ways to strengthen my writing. At the same time, I know that everyone has different preferences and tastes, even when it comes to reading, and every book isn't for everyone.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Worth a Thousand Words
Jubilant Soul Series Book Two
by Stacy Hawkins Adams

Life has always gone Indigo Burns’s way. She’s smart, pretty, and talented, and she knows exactly what she wants. A photography internship at her hometown’s local newspaper is the next step in her well-laid plans for her future. But her long-term goals are put to the test when her boyfriend Brian proposes–two years before he’s supposed to and in front of all the guests at her college graduation party.

Too concerned about his feelings to say no, she heartily agrees, but inside she’s cringing. Indigo knows in her heart that she’s not prepared to sacrifice her dreams to become Brian’s wife–not before she has achieved any of them. Will she find the answers among family and friends in Jubilant, Texas? Or will the picture-perfect life she dreams of be left behind?

For more information about Stacy, visit her at http://stacyhawkinsadams.com/.

BLOG TOUR SCHEDULE

DAY 1 Monday, June 22

Rhonda McKnight
http://www.urbanchristianfictiontoday.com/

Victorious Cafe
http://www.victoriouscafe.com/

LaTara Ham-Ying
http://www.momunplugged.com/

DAY 2 Tuesday, June 23

RAWSistaz Literary Group
http://www.rawsistaz.com/

Joey Pinkney
http://www.joeypinkney.com/

Linda Beed, D.R.Ed
http://lindabeed.blogspot.com/

DAY 3 Wednesday, June 24

SORMAG
http://sormag.blogspot.com/

Patricia Woodside
http://readinnwritin.blogspot.com/

Ella Curry - Black Pearl Magazine
http://edcmagazine.blogspot.com/

Ruth Curcuru
http://rannthisthat.blogspot.com/

DAY 4 Thursday, June 25

All the Buzz Reviews
http://www.allthebuzzreviews.com/

Vanessa Richardson
http://thecertainones.blogspot.com/

Britni Vigil
http://booknookclub.blogspot.com/

DAY 5 Friday, June 26

APOOO Books
http://www.apooobooks.com/

Word4Women
http://wordforwomen.wordpress.com/

Faygo's Report
http://instanter.wordpress.com/

Edgy Inspirational Author
http://edgyinspirationalauthor.blogspot.com/

ONLINE RADIO SCHEDULE

JUNE 23 - WordThirst Literary Journal Online Radio Show (8:00 pm EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ashea-goldson

JULY 9 - Chocolate Pages Show (6:00 pm EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/chocolatepages

JULY 16 - Inspiration Station (6:30 pm EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/InspirationStation

FIRST BORN

2009-06-22T08:37:00.001-07:00

This week, the
Christian Fiction Blog Alliance
is introducing
The Firstborn
Realms (May 5, 2009)
by
Conlan Brown

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Born in 1984, Conlan Brown was functionally illiterate until the fifth grade, when he learned how to read and write, as well as a love of story, from his grandmother. Conlan went on to start college at the age of sixteen, and now holds a Master's degree in Communication, which taught him the academic principles needed to write Firstborn.

Conlan lives on Colorado's Front Range where he is working on his next book. He enjoys video editing, film scores, and developing high octane, thought provoking fiction that turns pages and excites the senses.

ABOUT THE BOOK

Three supernatural gifts. Two thousand years of division. One moment of truth.

Hannah's head hung, long brown hair in her eyes. Her face felt pasty with cold and fatigue and pain. Arms behind her back, she sat in a chair, wrists and ankles tied to the wooden frame, chair legs bolted to the floor. A cold car. A gun. Horror. Pain. Grief. Screaming. A windshield blistering with holes. Darkness.

It all came over her like a flood. A pouring out of pictures in her mind. But then there was one more thing. Not an image, but a feeling--that half a continent away someone else had felt it all happening too.

The Firstborn, those gifted with Foresight, Hindsight, and Insight at the time of Christ's death are divided between themselves. And when an Islamic holy man is murdered outside of his mosque it becomes apparent that one of the Firstborn was to blame. Now, with the threat of a terrorist attack on an unspeakable target the Firstborn are spiraling out of control. Leaders are dying, members are being kidnapped, and unity is being forced. Three heroes, differently gifted and divided must work together to thwart those who would go too far.

Their breakneck race against time plunges them into a world of danger and through a gauntlet across the United States. From the Riverwalk of San Antonio, where Devin Bathurst, John Temple, and Hannah Rice must protect one another from assassination, to the gritty streets of Washington DC, a paramilitary compound in Pennsylvania, and ultimately back to our nation's capital, the Firstborn must unite to prevent an impending atrocity from becoming reality.

Watch The Trailer

If you would like to read the first chapter excerpt of The Firstborn, go HERE

Purposely Said – Dr. Linda F. Beed

2009-03-10T07:38:00.000-07:00

Electronically Yours

This month’s theme focuses attention upon online resources.

The words online and resources immediately caused my head to rotate at a rapid pace. How on earth could I give you so much information within the confines of this article? Once the swiveling subsided I was able to harness the plethora of ideas demanding to have their say.

The Internet is a wonderful thing. Its invention and constant evolution has made it possible for even the agoraphobic to enjoy a social life. With the depressing of a button the world is brought to you. The same is applicable when seeking information necessary for establishing and keeping abreast with the business of writing.

You may be wondering how to start your search. What is the link to finding this or that? Well, I’ll be very honest, just ask the computer. Sounds crazy, but no one told me that you could ask the computer questions. Because they didn’t, I did and it led me to information I needed and would need later. One such query led me to OWL/Online Writing Lab (http://owl.english.purdue.edu/internet/index.html). On this site I learned the variety of possibilities for exploration as well as Internet basics.

Google, Yahoo and similar search engines store seemingly limitless information. Type in your query and up pops a host of avenues to follow. As you become savvier you will learn how to use key words to pinpoint your search efforts.

Looking for information on writing? You can query the Internet with specific questions such as: 1) Articles on setting up your writing business; 2) Books on the craft of writing; 3) The complete directory for self-publishers; 4) Your marketing plan, and so on.

The phenomenon of the Internet’s ability to connect us to research needs and social communities that lend support to common goals is commendable.

Need to connect with other writers? Search Yahoo and Google Groups for your specific need. Also, consider social networks such as MySpace, Nings, Shelfari, Shoutlife, Writing Blogs, Blog Talk Radio, Twitter and Facebook.
*Please note that serious consideration should be given before joining any online group.

There is much more information to be found and applied to your writing and business process. Rather than overwhelm you I will stop with what we have here. As I leave you I would like to remind you of something very important. Instant information is a wonderful thing, if it is the right information. The convenience of online information is no guarantee that what you receive is true, relevant or up-to-date information. Be sure to check references and ask questions before applying information to your process.

Before leaving you I would be remiss if I did not leave a few links for you to explore. Since my passion is for the aspiring/novice author I have chosen links for the most frequently asked questions. The list is brief, but will give you a starting point. Further questions may be referred to Dr. Linda Beed @ http://us.mc501.mail.yahoo.com/mc/compose?to=lindaonassignment@yahoo.com
Please use ‘Industry Question’ in the subject line.

Copyright/ISBN: http://www.loc.gov/loc/infopub/

LCCN:
http://book-publisher-compared.com/lccn_library_of_congress_control_number.asp

State Licensing for Business:
Seek information on state licensing in your state

Federal Licensing:
http://usgovinfo.about.com/od/moneymatters/a/taxidhowtoget.htm

Have a question about a specific company. Try these literary watchdog sites:
Predators & Editors: http://anotherealm.com/prededitors/
Writer Beware Blogs: http://accrispin.blogspot.com/

As stated before there are many more resources available. Take your time, ask questions and do your homework.

Until next time, remember—Purposely Said words can destroy or create a life. Linda!

Dr. Linda Beed is an educator, speaker, children’s minister and author of Business Unusual. She co-moderators BWChristianLit, maintains its sister online blog and is the Review Editor for KDGospel Media Magazine.

You can find her on the web at:
lindabeed.com / MySpace / On Assignment Reviews / BWChristianLit

POD CAST: Strength Within Surviving by the Grace of God

2009-02-27T06:01:00.000-08:00

Strength Within Surviving by the Grace of God

Non fiction

Imagine how two little boys feel for being beat for the littlest thing. Neighbors,relatives, and God ignored there cries for help. They gave up on faith,prayer, and God eventually they overcame the mental abuse and physical abuse,pshychiatric hospitals, and so much more. Unfortunately the two brothers traveled down a road that left one brother mentally disabled at the age of twenty and the other questioning God's love.

Website: http://www.rolandvtyler.com/

Gabcast! EXCERPT: Strength Within Surviving by the Grace of God - Roland Tyler #1

Reader's Choice Awards

2009-02-25T14:59:00.001-08:00

RULES:

We invite you to vote for your favorite books for 2008.

SORMAG READER's Choice Awards, are awards voted on by the readers. You vote on your favorite books, the books with the most votes is the winner.

Authors can vote for themselves. Before you vote, take a moment to read over the categories, write down your nominations, then come back and vote. Please write down the titles of the book, an Author's name can not be substituted for a title. Placing someone's name in all the categories does not increase their chance to win. If we receive a ballot with one person's name down the whole ballot it will be deleted. Only valid emails are accepted, if your email is returned your vote will not count. This is due to ballot stuffing.

Deadline March 15, 2009

If the form doesn't work, copy and paste and send to sormag2@yahoo.com
You should receive a thank you response, if you don't receive one in 24hrs your vote wasn't received.

Name:
Email Address:
City/State:
Age:
Romance Novella Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Romance Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Fiction Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Non Fiction Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Christian Romance Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Christian Fiction Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Christian Non Fiction Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Children/Young Adult Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Self Published Fiction Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Self Published Non-Fiction Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Poetry Book Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Best Book Cover Of The Year (Book published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Author Of The Year (Mainstream Author published Jan 08-Dec 08)
New Author Of The Year (mainstream/self pub in Jan 08-Dec 08)
Self Published Author Of The Year (Self Published Author published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Children/Young Adult Author Of The Year (Author published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)
Poet Of The Year (Author published Jan 2008-Dec 2008)

create web form

POD CAST: His Invisible Wife

2009-02-23T06:06:00.000-08:00

His Invisible Wife

Genre - Women's Fiction

REVENGE...LUST...HOLY MATRIMONY

Texas businessman Jacob "Jake" Banks is about to lose his business and everything else he's worked for until his uncle dies and leaves him as the executor of his estate--only catch is, he has to marry and marry a specific woman in order to cash in on the inheritance. Big problem, since Jake has vowed to be a bachelor for life.

Brianna Mayfield is at her last rope. Her father lost his business due to Jake's uncle turning down a loan. She's convinced this caused her father to fall into a deep depression. She blames the Banks and vows to pay them back one day. When she sees an ad in the paper for a job at her self-proclaimed enemy's company, she feels her luck is turning around. She applies and is later approached by Jake with a proposition she can't turn down.

What would you do for a million dollars?

His Invisible Wife can be pre-ordered on Amazon.com. It will be in stores in July.

Website - http://www.sheliagoss.com/

Gabcast! EXCERPT: His Invisible Wife - Shelia Goss #1

POD CAST: Schae's Story

2009-02-20T06:55:00.000-08:00

In SCHAE'S STORY: A Woman's Transformation, readers will see the unveiling of a woman everyone thought they knew. We will be exposed to how difficult it is for the people around us to accept our desire to change. Also, that while many people preach that God will change someone’s life they really do not believe it to be true. Schae’s Story will also expose the many ways in which love manifests itself in a woman’s life, family love, community-love and most importantly the reciprocal love of God.

Website
www.angeliavmenchan.com

Gabcast! EXCERPT - SCHAE'S STORY - Angelia Menchan #1

POD CAST - Over Your Dead Body

2009-02-13T08:18:00.000-08:00

Over Your Dead Body

Like all relationships, sometimes there are problems that need to be addressed. During one fateful night after returning home from his co-worker’s apartment, Janelle accuses her husband of adultery. There is just one catch: Preston has remained faithful up to this stage of their marriage! Underlying feelings of contempt and disdain quickly form as both Janelle and Preston allow outside influences to get the best of them as their failing marriage continue to spiral downward. A game of cat and mouse ensues as Preston and Janelle become engrossed in battle with their children as the ultimate prize. No one is safe as each character utilizes their entire array of wit, cunning, and deviousness to dispel the other’s reputation. With each passing chapter, Preston becomes more determined to vindicate his image and exact revenge on his wife. With nothing else to lose, everyone becomes expendable in his eyes and consequently, all intended participants become “chess pieces” in what is considered the game of his life.

Gabcast! David L Excerpt #1

POD CAST - Going Down South

2009-02-11T08:19:00.000-08:00

Going Down South

When fifteen-year-old Olivia Jean finds herself in the “family way,” her mother, Daisy, who has never been very maternal, springs into action. Daisy decides that Olivia Jean can’t stay in New York and whisks her away to her grandmother’s farm in Alabama to have the baby–even though Daisy and her mother, Birdie, have been estranged for years. When they arrive, Birdie lays down the law: Sure, her granddaughter can stay, but Daisy will have to stay as well. Though Daisy is furious, she has no choice.

Now, under one little roof in the 1960s Deep South, three generations of spirited, proud women are forced to live together. One by one, they begin to lose their inhibitions and share their secrets. And as long-guarded truths emerge, a baby is born–a child with the power to turn these virtual strangers into a real, honest-to-goodness family.

Gabcast! Bonnie Glover Excerpt #1

POD CAST: Talk To Me

2009-02-02T06:32:00.000-08:00

TALK TO ME
by Pat Simmons

Genre: AFRICAN-AMERICAN FICTION/ CHRISTIAN FICTION

Noel Richardson is perfect, but degrees, wealth, and good genes don’t define a man. The CEO of a St. Louis non-profit organization, Noel doesn’t respond when women whisper compliments behind his back. It’s only God’s voice Noel hears.

His life has been anything, but easy since surviving a fireworks explosion that kills his best friend and shatters his hearing. That’s in his past. He’s learned to co-exist between two worlds—hearing and Deaf. Noel tolerances ridicule from his friends when he’s slow to interject into their lively sports debate despite mastering lip reading. Living in the Deaf community isn’t any easier. There are constant reminders that Noel is a distinct outsider.

For years, his Sunday morning worship consisted of tele-evangelists. Spiritually, he was dying from the lack of fellowship. What could he do? Very few churches had what he needed.

Then Noel stumbles across an invitation flashing on a portable sign: Thanksgiving service. All are welcome. Deaf ministry provided.

Once inside God’s Grace Church, he’s captivated by Interpreter Mackenzie Norton’s graceful hands.

To Noel, Mackenzie’s exquisite, a steadfast believer, and head strong. With her, Noel can hear the impossible.

Website: http://www.patsimmons.net/

Gabcast! EXCERPT: TALK TO ME - Pat Simmons

EXCERPT: Over Your Dead Body

2009-01-16T09:13:00.000-08:00

Seduction and Lies

2009-01-12T08:19:00.001-08:00

Seduction and Lies

In Book 2 of The Ladies Cartel Series, Danielle Holloway is the newest member of the group. Her first assignment: infiltrate a ring of identity-theft criminals. With cool wit and seductive charm, Danielle uses her skills to piece together the clues, and she's shocked to discover that a cloud of guilt hover over her beau, the very sexy and charismatic Nick Mateo.

Listen to Donna talk about Seduction and Lies

Donna Hill began her writing career in 1987 with the short story "The Long Walk," Her first novel, Rooms of the Heart was published in 1990. Since that time she has more than 50 titles in print. Three of her novels were adapted for television. She has packaged and edited several anthologies, two of which were nominated for awards. She is the recipient of the first Trailblazer Award, the Zora Neale Hurston Award for literature among many others. Her novel Wicked Ways won Borders Best of Books for 2007.

KEEP YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER - Sharon Oliver

2008-10-19T06:36:00.000-07:00

KEEP YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER
by Sharon Oliver

ISBN# 1-60162-962-1
Publisher: Urban Christian Books/Kensington
Genre: Christian Fiction - Mystery/Humor
Copyright: 2008 Sharon Oliver
Published date: July 2008
Where it can be purchased: www.amazon.com; Barnes & Noble; Borders and other bookstores across the country

Website: www.sharonoliver.net
and www.myspace.com/sharonwrites

Keep Your Enemies Closer is a humorous yet thought provoking tale about folk in a fictional South Carolina town who must learn how to deal with life’s interruptions and deceptions without falling apart or killing one another. When a pastor skips town with money from the church and Charlotte Morley’s conniving twin cousins mysteriously vanish right along with him, her much anticipated summer vacation takes a sudden shift in course.

CHAPTER 2

Charlotte came to Turtle Island to get some rest before starting her new job duties as a staff counselor at her new church home. Charlotte joined Greater Faith Center a year ago, after months of searching for a new church and after having left one that frowned upon female preachers. She didn’t appreciate being treated as some sort of she-devil just because she wore her hair in twists. Many staff members at her former church, Truth in Love Tabernacle, frowned upon her hairstyle. Members of the ministerial staff, particularly the men, looked at her hair as if it represented the devil’s horns and treated her as such. The fact that she was going through an ugly divorce at the time had also earned her looks of disapproval.

As soon as Charlotte found out that her now ex-husband, Anthony, was “fellowshipping” with one of the “sisters” from the church, she filed for a divorce. Throughout their entire four-year marriage, rumors and evidence of Anthony’s bed hopping had been surfacing. The entire church, including children, knew of his blatant affair with the young usher. And as if the pain and embarrassment caused by this illicit affair weren’t enough, one day the pastor pulled Charlotte, not Anthony, aside for a little talk. Pastor Brown emphatically told Charlotte that she should concentrate more on being a virtuous woman instead of bucking so hard for a place in the pulpit. He suggested she curtail the amount of time she spent at church, advising that she should spend more time ministering to her husband.

Point well taken and she agreed it was applicable and sound advice. However, while informing Pastor Brown that Anthony was never home for her to minister to in the first place, Charlotte also suggested that perhaps he should also have a little talk with her husband as well, right after he took his religious foot off of her neck. She politely pointed out that if Anthony would control his roving eye and strong urges to unzip his pants, the divorce would not be happening.
Furthermore, she wanted Pastor Brown to know that she was a virtuous woman and she was not bucking for a position on the pulpit. Although she longed for a chance to teach, she did not wish to take over his position as leader. She only came to church to learn, worship and serve. Anthony, on the other hand, attended church to lust, conquer and be served some human flesh. Charlotte also pointed out that she was insulted by Anthony’s decision to add salt to the wound by sleeping with a member of her church. Scandalizing scoundrel didn’t even try to go undercover with his mess.

Once Charlotte and Anthony officially separated, he and his girlfriend stopped attending Truth in Love Tabernacle. Two months after the divorce, Anthony phoned Charlotte to express his regrets. He told her that he had made a mistake and wanted her to give him another chance. Charlotte poured out her regrets also and calmly informed her cheating ex that she regretted marrying him in the first place and he could squash the idea of a second chance. The relationship between Charlotte and her pastor also deteriorated after their finger-pointing conversation and she left Truth in Love not long after that. Sadly, because of Pastor Brown’s dry and repetitive sermons, half of the parishioners also exited.

Charlotte looked in the rear-view mirror again to see if her cousins were nearby, but saw no sight of them or their rental car. It would be just like them not to go straight to the house in order to get out of helping with dinner. Despite stories that most twins are somewhat kindred spirits, everyone in the Morley family knew that Tina and Terry were not. In fact, the two had a nasty habit of competing against one another and now they were on the island acting as if they were soul sisters? Whenever the two siblings did act as if they were on one accord, history proved otherwise. The last known stunt that Tina and Terry pulled had the entire Morley family talking for months.

A few years ago, Tina somehow managed to convince Terry that they should celebrate their high school graduation by taking a trip to Hawaii, unbeknownst and at the expense of their well-to-do parents. One day their mother, Francine, received a bill on purchases made at a trendy boutique in Maui, a place she had not visited. Tina and Terry had nearly bought out the store with one of Francine’s cherished platinum credit cards. Francine was livid! She didn’t even know the two had gone to Hawaii. In fact, Francine was under the impression that the twins had celebrated their graduation in Virginia Beach that particular weekend. Tina would later claim that the whole idea of going to Hawaii and going on a shopping frenzy was Terry’s.

Charlotte grew more and more suspicious about the presence of Typhoon Tina and Tropical Storm Terry. She had briefly considered spending her summer vacation relaxing on the white sands of St. Croix. But for some reason, the pull to go to Turtle Island had been stronger. It was almost as if there was some sort of urgency that required her presence. Charlotte forced herself to stop thinking about her cousins and turned her focus back to her grandmother’s conversation with Sista.

“You know, Sista,” Mattie Mae began. “I was just thinkin’ the other day about how Esau and Betty done such a good job raisin’ Charlotte. Look at how she turned out. I’m so proud of her. She got rid of that husband the devil sent her and now she’s a minister. I sho’ do hope I get to hear her preach some day. Now as for Tina and Terry, I don’t know what to say about them two wit they little fast behinds. Ever since they’ve been here, they been stickin’ to each other like glue and always whisperin’ about somethin’. They hardly say anythin’ to me and Edmund or even Charlotte since they been here. And we raised Terry! And raisin’ Terry was like tryin’ to break in a mule, let me tell ya’. That gal is so stubborn and downright stiff! I just don’t know, Sista.” Mattie Mae sounded exasperated. “Me and Edmund done all we could, but it seems as though every time Terry is around Tina, she act like she ain’t got no sense.”
“Mattie Mae, I know they is yo’ grandchiren, but I used to always tell you them two is as crack as a sidewalk, ‘specially that Terry. Tina don’t half speak to nobody and Terry talk so proper, I don’t half know what she be tryin’ to say.”
“I know it, but Terry didn’t act so crack until she left from here,” Mattie Mae defended.
“Mattie Mae! Terry been crack ever since she first come here as a chile,” Sista corrected.
Charlotte struggled not to laugh out loud at Sista. She had always admired Sista for her bluntness. No matter who you were or what you thought about her opinions, she was going to let you have it, like it or not.
“It ain’t their fault, Sista,” Mattie Mae began to explain. “And it sho’ didn’t help that Charles and Francine was half-raisin’ them gals, lettin’ all kinds of folk in their house like that. Maybe if I had both of ‘em here wit me, things would’ve turned out different. I tell you one thing though, God sho’ got His hands on Charlotte. I can see that. And she can pray up a storm too.”
“I can remember when she was just a little bitty thing runnin’ around here,” Sista said, stretching her eyes as if she just remembered something. “Oh yeah, I forgot to ask you if you heard ‘bout Lucille’s chile bein’ on drugs? Just throwin’ her life away. These chiren sho’ know how to put a hole in a mother’s heart.”
“I did hear about that. It’s such a shame.”
“I don’t know why that gal got herself hooked on that stuff. I tell ya’ the truth. She ought to know better. You know they buryin’ Annie Nettles’ son tomorrow afternoon over at Macedonia. He wasn’t but twenty-two years old and they tell me he was on that stuff too! These young people droppin’ off like flies. They don’t realize they can leave here just as quick as us old folk can. Anyhow, I’ll talk to ya’ later on today.” Sista spotted her son, John Edward, arriving to pick her up and walked over to his car. “We gotta keep prayin’ for the chutch too,” Sista shouted back as she opened the passenger door. John Edward waved at Mattie Mae before driving off in his turbo-charged Mustang.

By this time, Edmund was seated inside the truck and had asked Charlotte what she thought of today’s sermon. Charlotte shifted to the middle of the seat to make room for Mattie Mae. She dreaded admitting to her grandfather that she slept through most of the service and was saved from doing so when Mattie Mae instructed Edmund to hurry up and drive, prompting a minor road trip spat. Edmund drove off of the gravel-covered parking lot muttering about Mattie Mae’s bossiness. After all, it was she who kept them waiting in the first place. Then like bats out of Hades, Charlotte could see Tina and Terry tailgating them in Tina’s rented BMW.

Edmund and Mattie Mae argued up until the time they arrived at the house. Edmund parked his truck on the side of the wood-frame house, running over a gardenia bush load with flowers. This careless act cost him a stern tongue lashing from Mattie Mae as she squirmed and wiggled out of the truck.

“Didn’t we just leave the church? Apparently, there wasn’t anything in the message about keeping peace,” Charlotte said to herself as she slid from out of her seat. Sensing Mattie Mae’s irritation had little to do with Edmund, Charlotte asked the Lord for insight, and in a still, small voice, she heard the words, “watch and pray.”

Keys of Destiny - Adin Kachisi

2008-10-18T06:41:00.000-07:00

Keys of Destiny
by Adin Kachisi

Category: Fiction / Action & Adventure
Format: Trade Paperback
Publication Date: Apr-2008
Price: $16.95
Size: 6 x 9
ISBN: 978-0-595-50760-3

Available from iUniverse, Inc
To order call 1-800-AUTHORS
www.iuniverse.com or www.amazon.com

Author’s info: www.adinkachisi.com
email- kachisia@yahoo.com ; Tel- 212-810-7889

Keys of Destiny

Who will survive…..THE CLEANSING?

Beginning in a post 9/11 New York , Kazra Moore travels to a 2012-apocalyptic era world searching for ancient keys to save humanity from total extinction. Confronted by brutal secret societies and bloodthirsty fallen angels, will he survive and find the Keys of Destiny or is humanity doomed?

A riveting breakthrough tale of the human struggle to survive beyond 2012 cataclysms and rise beyond the elite architects of control.

Keys of Destiny is a remarkable tale of esoteric enigma and fascinating conspiracy. The book is intricately woven with layers of masterful storytelling and ground-breaking research. From Mayan prophecies, global conspiracies, ancient tablets, inter-dimensional portals, secret societies, bloodthirsty nephilims, gnomes, indigo children, martial arts experts, aliens, shamans, ancient civilizations, time travelers, to earth changes, ascension and the future of humanity, all in one book.

Entire islands wiped out by hurricanes, cities devastated by earthquakes, riots across the globe … it’s the beginning of the end of Civilization as we know it. Straight from New York , Kazra Moore travels to Europe, Africa, and Asia searching for ancient keys to save humanity from apocalyptic extinction. Confronted by brutal secret societies and bloodthirsty fallen angels, will he survive and find the Keys of Destiny or is humanity doomed?

Chapter 8
Gnomes and Stargates—Zimbabwe

Excerpt:

From the Nyangani Mountain, they drove north to the site of Ziwa ruins
passing through the Nyanga village. After arriving at the Ziwa site, they enjoyed a
good quick tour of the Ziwa ruins. Ziwa looked to be closely related to the Great
Zimbabwe monuments, consisting of old stone structures built of large blocks of
stone.
From the ruins, they left the car and walked to the Ziwa caves. As they drew
closer to the site, Simba suddenly stopped in his tracks. He seemed to have
instantly gone into a trance right in the middle of the road. He stood motionless
with his eyes closed like a priest in silent prayer.
“What’s up?” David asked as he and Kazra curiously looked at Simba who was
standing still like a statue.
“All right, just something I really didn’t expect,” Simba said as he opened his
bag to examine its contents.
“What?” David asked again.
“Good, I brought them,” Simba said, closing his bag as they walked on.
“You’ll see in a moment, looks like we have some company. Things may really
get ugly around here.”
“Any problem? Wish we brought some kind of weapons; remember what I
told you about the dangerous cult in Ireland. I am hoping and praying that you
don’t have their equivalent in this country.” Before Simba could explain himself,
they were at the caves. The site looked lush and green. The caves stood amidst a
thick concentration of trees, bushes, grass, and weeds. High up in the trees, birds
of many kinds could be seen and heard punctuating the natural beauty of the
scenery. The entrance to the cave was kind of narrow but wide enough for a man
of average weight. As they stepped in, Simba suddenly looked tense and worried.
“David,” Simba said, switching off the flashlight he had pulled out of the bag.
“You notice the oil lamps are on?”
“Visitors before us? I don’t like it at all, I bet they are neither tourists nor local
folk,” David replied.
Kazra quickly noticed the marks and drawings on the cave wall. The walls
were heavily adorned with rock art and many different petro glyphs.
“Wow, what are these strange, stylized drawings? I see animals, funky-looking,
long-legged people, and what looks like flying beings,” Kazra said, as he lagged
behind, examining the cave wall drawings.
Simba stopped walking, looked back at Kazra, and smiled. “You find them
interesting? Some of these drawings go back as far as 20,000 to 30,000 years ago.
They’re San paintings depicting spiritual experiences. Some of the animals you
see there depict the eland, representing spirituality to the San people. The long-legged
people and flying beings represent shamanic flights and trances.”
They walked further into the inner caves through several passages.
“This is it,” said Simba as he led the way into the innermost cave.
“Amazing place,” Kazra said.
“Wow!” shouted Simba, “I suspected this.”
“Oh no!” shouted David, stepping back.
Meanwhile Kazra, who was behind them, moved forward to get a clear view of
what was transpiring.
“Oh no!” he shouted, stepping back. To his surprise, right before them stood a
strange-looking man whose grisly countenance mocked the concept of man as
God’s image. He was tall and heavy built. The first strange thing about him was
his outfit. He wore a black robe like a priest, and his head was covered by a red
veil. His eyes were most strange, cold and catlike, making him look devilish. The
strange man jumped back in surprise and stared at them disdainfully. He stood
still, wide-eyed and staring at them with a bewildered expression. As if finding
them humorous, he opened his beastly mouth and laughed out loud. As everyone
stood still studying the situation and contemplating their next move, the strange
man stepped further back. He then stretched his hands forward with palms
pointed toward his three foes. Opening his nasty-looking mouth again, he started
uttering some strange-sounding words and chanting some mantras in a weird language
clearly not Shona. For some reason, Simba, David, and Kazra stood motionlessly, staring at him as if waiting for something to happen. With each word that this dark underworld priest uttered, they found themselves feeling fatigued and somehow hypnotized. The effect of these underworld chants wastaking a toll on them. Overcome by a draining dizziness, they stumbled over and fell to the ground. Weary, slowly losing breath, they crawled on their bellies like vipers and struggled with their failing senses, trying to regain strength.
The evil-looking stranger giggled sharply before yelling some strange word as
loud as he could, as if to resurrect or summon sleeping demons from the abyss. A
group of gruesome-looking beings suddenly appeared and materialized in front of
him. They looked almost human, but they were only about three feet tall. Their
heads were big and their bodies excessively hairy. Their eyes were all blood red
and well-complemented by their large spear-pointed teeth that they paraded ferociously
and hungrily. Numbering seven, they paced about in front of him, hissing
and growling, viciously intimidating their three foes. By now, Kazra, Rick, and
Simba were trembling and gasping for air as they lay on the ground like reptiles.
At a command from their evil master, the little beings viciously advanced
toward the three victims. With a loud wild scream, one of the small tokoloshi goblin-
like creatures suddenly leaped into the air and jumped toward Simba. Struggling
to keep his eyes open, Simba looked in front only to see his impending
demise. Biting his teeth and gathering his last reserve of energy from the depths
of his gut, he stretched his hand forward and grabbed his bag as fast as he could.
As the tokoloshi landed in front of him, Simba pulled his hand out of the bag
pocket. With one fast swing, he flung his hand forward, cutting through the air as
he opened his palms and unleashed a white powder. This white powder immediately
caused some serious damage to the advancing tokoloshi, which stood in front
of Simba salivating with out-stretched claws. It suddenly jumped back and shook
vigorously as the white powder showered its face. This was just the beginning of
the real drama. It screamed sharply, sending a bone-chilling echo into the air
before exploding into flames.
The underworld priest stood frozen, eyes wide open as he saw his tokoloshi special
soldiers bursting into flames one after another. Other little tokoloshi creatures
scattered all over the cave, screaming and screeching in confusion, looking for a
way out. Even more dramatic, the priestly sorcerer ran back and forth in disorientation,
screaming obscenities.
Meanwhile, Simba and his two friends had regained their strength and were
on their feet immersed in the drama. Simba advanced forward. Dipping his hand
again into the bag’s packet, he scooped out a handful of the same deadly powder.
Again, he tossed the powder into the air, sending the remaining tokoloshi into a
series of explosions and colorful combustions. A gross, choking stench saturated
the air. After a few minutes of smoky fireworks, all that was left standing was the
priest. Having definitely lost his sanity, he walked about looking totally disoriented.
Then suddenly, screaming and running like a mad cow, he pushed Kazra
and David to the side as he sped through the cave’s exit.
“He’s escaping, he’s escaping!” Kazra shouted, turning and jumping forward
to pursue him before being stopped by Simba.
“Don’t worry about him, he is finished,” Simba said.
Kazra stood frozen looking confused. “You gonna let him just run away? The
very guy who almost turned us into sushi for his little savage goblins?”
“Trust me, he’s done with. He’s already lost his sanity, and only a holy shaman
can redeem him. The base of his dark power has been permanently extinguished.
Don’t worry about him.”
Meanwhile, David stood silently, hands in his pocket watching Simba and
Kazra in their dialogue. They were all silent for a moment reflecting on what had
just occurred until Kazra broke the silence in a low, tired voice.
“That was close,” he said as they stood against the cave walls catching a breath
and recovering from the ordeal.
“Dangerously close, I hate such close calls,” Simba said, frowning and shaking
his head.
“Simba, who was this loathsome underworlder and what did he want here?”
“He wanted the crystal key, of course. He’s the dark sorcerer they call Chaza.”
“I thought you said the location of the key was a big secret only known to you
and one other person. How did he know the crystal’s location?” Kazra asked,
wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Chaza is a renegade shaman who used to belong to the Mutapa shamanic
order and mystery school, but he was expelled for violating one of the golden
rules.”
“What golden rule?”
“The shamanic law of public good before personal interest and the law that
forbids using shamanic knowledge and rituals to harm rather than defend the
weak and the innocent.”
David nodded. “That ancient order is known for its strict rules; they don’t tolerate
any nonsense.”
“However, expelling him was really no solution, because he became morally
worse. He started involving himself with some Luciferian secret society as well as
going commercial with his shamanic activities. I have heard of his intimate
involvement with corrupt politicians who use occult powers to maintain political
hegemony and eliminate opposition.”
“He’s a nasty bastard. You still haven’t explained how he found the crystal
location,” Kazra said again.
“A renegade shaman is dangerous, like a fallen angel; he knows too much. He
knows many ways of digging up secrets. In this case, he made the grave mistake of
underestimating us, heavily relying on his little demonic soldiers and assuming
they were invisible. Anyhow what really happened is this, the Luciferian cult has
been looking for the key for many years.”
“Wait a minute,” Kazra interrupted, “maybe they are connected to the Leviathan
cult I told you about.”
“It’s possible, evil transcends space and geography. They’re basically the same
people often referred to as the Leviathans, Luciferians, Cult of Kingu, Order of
Samyaza, or even the Illuminati. It’s the same old crap, a bunch of power-hungry
elites in bed with bloodthirsty demons determined to keep humanity blind and
enslaved. Now that our transition to higher consciousness has begun, we can’t be
controlled through the machinations of politics, commercial illusion, and organized
religion. They’re now desperately trying to hold on, and if not, then just
lead us to full apocalypse and total destruction by any means necessary.”
“Not good at all,” David said as he walked about with a droopy face and both
hands in his pockets. After their ordeal, his mood had significantly plunged down
far more than his two companions. He felt guilty about risking his life for some
relic even though he had a beloved family to live for.
“So, somehow they zeroed in on the geographical location of the crystal key.
They probably wandered the whole country measuring energetic vibrations and
higher frequencies. For a while now, I have seen this Chaza guy snooping around
different sites obviously looking for something. Unfortunately, when you arrived,
he got to know it, and I suspect that he sent his invisible spirit spies to follow you
to my house. Needless to say, these invisible entities listened to our conversations
and decided to get the key ahead of us. Fortunately, we got here in time and
found him confused about how to retrieve the key from the sacred vault.”
“I guess no amount of juju could move the huge granite block above the
vault,” David said, laughing out loud, appearing cheerful at last. “The moron
should have brought a crane with him. I guess they don’t teach that in occult
school.”
“I made an error last night when you arrived. I didn’t do the sanctification ritual
to clear and protect the space from intrusion. This is a very serious time, and
any such sloppiness can prove very costly. I should have been more diligent; they
could have easily killed us all without thinking twice about it. Somehow the spirit
told me to carry the powder and that saved us,” Simba said, stepping forward and
sighing with his arms stretched up.
“What’s the powdered stuff you used? Anything in the league of uranium
powder and red mercury?” Kazra asked, moving away from the cave wall toward
the front of the cave.
“Oh, no,” Simba replied, laughing. “You won’t find me in the vicinity of
radioactive material. That powder was made from the sacred stone of Mount Kilimanjaro.
The powder has the power to neutralize or destroy evil entities.”
“Why Mount Kilimanjaro? Anything to do with its height?” Kazra asked.
“No, besides its height, what makes Mount Kilimanjaro important is that it is
a sacred mountain with very high spiritual vibrations.”
“I didn’t know that. I hope to visit it one of these days. The one I know of is
Mount Tanganyika in Tanzania; some believe the first humans were created
around that area,” David said.
“I’m not too surprised to hear that, the name Tanganyika speaks for itself. In
the Shona language, the word nyika means country or land, and tanga means
first. So Tanganyika literally means first land or country, some kind of Garden of
Eden.”
“That makes a lot of sense. I didn’t look at it that way before,” David said,
nodding.
They all slowly walked toward the front of the cave with Simba in front.
Simba stopped right in front of a very large circular granite rock almost six feet in
diameter and four feet in depth.
“This is the altar of power,” he said, pointing at the granite boulder. He pulled
three joined little drums from his bag and placed them at the base of the huge
rock. Kazra stepped forward to take a closer look at the rock, and to his surprise,
the top of the rock was marked with several spiral engravings as well as other
unfamiliar markings and some kind of hieroglyphic writing. Simba also pulled
what looked like a flute from his bag.
Simba then took the drum and the flute, and walked around the rock. Stopping
in the confined space behind it, he stood facing the rock and resting his back
against the cave wall. He then placed the little drum on top of the big rock. He
also took a flute made of strange copper-looking material and started blowing it.
As he blew, it produced an eerie high-pitched sound; he simultaneously hit the
little triple drum. The drumbeat produced a strange sharp sound with long-lasting
echoes that filled the whole cave. The sounds caused a strange hair-raising tingling
sensation in their bodies. This went on for several minutes. Continuing to
blow the flute, Simba placed his right palm on the edge of the rock and gently
pushed it to the side with little effort.
Kazra and David both jumped back in disbelief as they witnessed this
unworldly phenomenon.
“No, no, that’s impossible. You didn’t just push that massive block of granite
with one hand like it was a piece of furniture? No, that’s impossible! Was that
magic? How did you do that? Kazra was cut off when Simba suddenly grabbed
Kazra’s hand and pulled it toward the large rock.
“Try it. Just push it,” Simba said, giggling.
Almost overwhelmed by hesitation and disbelief, Kazra slowly and reluctantly
pushed the rock, easily moving it sideways as if it had no weight.
“What! I can’t believe this, can’t believe it. What’s this? Some kind of antigravity
magic?” He continued, pushing the rock and feeling it to check if it was a
real or just an empty shell.
David laughed at Kazra’s reaction and undying skepticism. “Relax, Doctor
Kazra, it’s not magic, it’s an ancient science. It’s the use of anti-gravity musical
instruments to produce acoustic levitation. Sound waves are used to temporarily
alter vibrations, counter gravity, and neutralize the weight of the rock, causing it
to levitate or allowing us to move it easily. Ancient people used to apply this
sound art to move heavy blocks of stone weighing several tons. That triple-drum
produces specific sounds and vibrations not normally produced by your regular
drums. These little drums you see here are older than life; we simply don’t know
how old they are or where they came from, but all we know is that they were used
by the ancient ones.”
“Amazing!” Kazra yelled, almost jumping with excitement as he scrutinized
the sacred triple-drum. “Why, why don’t you to take it for testing, demonstrate
this antigravity trick before scientists or something?”
“No, no, no. No labs and no scientists. This is a sacred drum; it’s not up for
confiscation and experimentation by the American military or NASA scientists.
It’s a holy object and shall not be used for military or commercial purposes by
these materialists. Hell no, let it remain a mystery and continue serving its purpose
for its rightful custodians.” Simba protested.
“I definitely know where you’re coming from. They can’t be trusted with
objects of that value,” Kazra said.
Kazra and David looked into the rectangular vault to see its contents; they saw
several crystal rocks planted in the sand.
“What you see here are the precious crystals for which a lot of people would
kill,” Simba said, pulling out a hexagonal shaped crystal. “You see, it’s some
strange kind of clear quartz, with etched lines running down and pyramidal
shapes inside.”
Kazra stood gazing with his mouth wide open in awe. “Here is your key,”
Simba lifted the glittering hexagonal crystal key and put it in Kazra’s hands.
“Wow!” Kazra yelled, grabbing the crystal with both hands.
“Is it similar to the one you say you saw in Ireland?” Simba asked.
“Yes, very similar except for the color, this one looks like jasper,” he replied
lifting the crystal closer to his eyes for closer scrutiny.
Kazra laughed out loud, gazing at the crystal key. “I can’t believe I have the
second crystal in my hands. At last …”
David stepped closer to the big rock, looked into the vault, and saw four big
quartz crystals. They were milk clear, violet, golden, and purple. “These ones in
the vault, are they all from Kariba?” he asked.
“Only the big violet one is the seed crystal from Kariba. The other three are its
offspring,” Simba said.
“Offspring?” David asked, looking puzzled.
“It’s a family affair. Crystals are like us, they grow and multiply.”
David looked at Simba and smiled before turning his attention to Kazra, who
was still examining and admiring the crystal key.
“Here, take a look,” Kazra handed the crystal key to David, who immediately
opened his eyes and mouth wide.
“Incredibly beautiful, right?” Kazra said, smiling at David.
“Besides that obvious glaring fact, what’s extremely strange is the energy surge
I just felt running up my spine as I touched it,” David replied.
“Really?” Kazra asked.
“It’s true. It has a very high vibrational resonance. I can generally sense crystal
pulses, and this key is definitely beyond anything else I have ever felt. If crystals
generally whisper, then one can say this key shouts,” Simba said.
“Simba, you’re one unusual character, you speak the language of mountain,
rocks, and crystals. I wonder what else you talk to,” Kazra said, looking at Simba
and shaking his head.
“Yes, I also talk to people, and believe me, they’re the hardest creatures to
communicate with. They have eyes, but they can’t see, they have ears but they
can’t hear, they have mouths, and they use them for trivial chatter or simply
curse.”
“Amen to that,” David said, before handing the crystal key back to Kazra.
“Here, you can use my bag,” Simba stretched out his hand to hand over his
bag.
“Thanks,” Kazra gently placed the crystal key into the bag.
After walking out of the caves, they sat down and relaxed on the green glass
under the sheltering blue sky and warm shimmering sun. Simba looked at the
two weary faces before him and wondered if Kazra and David were both emotionally
alright after the traumatic experience.
Kazra glanced at Simba then shook his head: “I don’t have to tell you I won’t
forget this experience for as long as I live. Those vicious little faeries nearly killed
us. For a moment I thought it was one of my bad dreams except that there was no
waking up.”
“Interesting, you call them faeries. People describe these little tokoloshi creatures
in many different ways, from evil creations, goblins, fairies, gremlins,
gnomes, sprites, elves, leprechauns, to extraterrestrial dwarfs. I prefer to use the
word goblin because that word brings out the grotesque nature of these particular
little creatures. However, all that having been said, one thing for sure is that all
these creatures are elementals.”
“Are elementals always evil like that?” Kazra asked.
“By no means. Elementals are like all other beings in creation; they can be
good or evil. Same situations we see amongst humans, spirits, angels, and even
extraterrestrials, assuming that you believe in their existence.”
“So fairy elementals seem to play a prominent role in many mythologies. I
used to just consider them as part of fictitious mythologies, but …”
“But not anymore,” David added.
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten I promised to tell you about the Kariba Gorge crystals,”
Simba said before sighing and stretching his tired legs on the grass.
“Bring it on, what else can shock me?” Kazra replied.
“The story will sure soothe our shaken selves,” David added.
“I assume you already know the geographical location of Kariba. The famous
Kariba is a great inland sea, nestled in mountains as well as a large reserve of
game. Nothing in my imagination can compare to the unique beauty of the
Kariba waters’ sunset. It’s the enchantment of a glittering red sun sliding into
dusky darkness as Earth turns beneath it into night. The old dead trees enhance
that panoramic symphony as they stand bent in the lake and the dark sloping
mountains embrace twilight darkness.”
“It sounds truly amazing,” Kazra said.
“In 1958 the powers that be, the colonial disciples of the man called Cecil
John Rhodes, took advantage of the great river and the narrow neck of a remarkable
gorge and built a large dam wall, creating Lake Kariba. Little did they know
what lay deep down in the gorge and on that site. The construction of the dam
destroyed part of one of the world’s most important sacred sites housing the
ancient Akashic seed crystals. The Kariba Gorge is an Earth energy vortex center
point and an inter-dimensional doorway called the Gates to the Underworld.”
“In other words, it’s like a stargate, right?”
“Yes, much like the Great Pyramid or the Tower of Babel supposedly built or
used by Nimrod in his inter-dimensional experiments and travels. The only difference
is that the Kariba Gorge is a natural portal.”
“Well, I never really thought of the Great Pyramid as a stargate to other
dimensions.”
“That’s just a part of the story, some talk of it as an energy machine and an
instrument for changing high initiates into light beings. Remember David’s theories
on pyramids as ascension machines as well as some king of energy weapons.
That’s a whole topic on its own.”
“So many mysteries lost to history,” David said after a long silence.
“The seed crystals serve as a storage of human history. They’re well encoded
with data and have latent trigger switches to Earth balance and cosmic consciousness.
In fact, they’re closely related to your crystal keys. There’s a sacred crystal cave at Kariba called the Knot of Time. It holds unimaginable energies and secrets. It holds what they call the fountain of time, where past, present, and future are one. Elders and priests used to use this cave for vision and inter-dimensional experiences.”
“Who planted the crystals there to start with?” Kazra asked.
“They say it was done by the ancient Holy Ones called the Ancient Ones, the
first humans on the planet. The Tonga-Ila people who lived in the Kariba area
thousands of years ago were popularly known for their wisdom and high spiritual
sciences. Amongst other things, they used the crystals to activate the pineal gland;
to dispel negative energy fields, to recall ancient memories, to heal sickness, to
awaken spirit senses like telepathy and clairvoyance, to eliminate Earth pollution,
for prophecy, for inter-dimensional and extraterrestrial communications. Even
today, the holy priests of the Bakongo Crystal mountains in the Congo region
still maintain shrines in huge crystal caves that contain huge carvings of shiny
quartz. They still use them for the same purposes,” he paused for a moment to
catch his breath before he continued speaking.
“Have you ever tried using crystals, brother Kazra?”
“No, I have always viewed it as kind of New Agey and not to be taken too seriously,”
Kazra replied.
“No. Instead it’s Old Age, a very old source of energy used by ancient people.
For example, one can use a simple crystal like red jasper to help them focus and
achieve their goals, and you can use quartz for greater intuition; the list goes on.”
“I’ll sure try it,” Kazra said, nodding slowly.
“One of my future plans is to travel throughout the planet planting crystals
and activating sacred sites. This task will involve some serious cleansing of many
years of negative energy created by war, imperialism, slavery, murders, negative
rituals, and evil influences from other unearthly dimensions.”
“Maybe you should join up with Grandmother Neh on her Earth cleansing
trip.”
“Of course, I can’t do this on my own. This kind of task has to be led by shamans
and earth-keepers.”
“Oh, this guy is fast asleep,” Kazra said looking and laughing at David, who
lay on his back, arms stretched out and baking in the sun.
“Wake up, wake up we got to go,” Simba shook David by the shoulder.
As they walked away some distance from the cave, they saw a crowd of villagers.
The villagers were standing around and looking at something. As they walked
toward the crowd, they met up with a boy going in the opposite direction and
asked him what was going on. The boy told them that the villagers were looking
at the body of a man who had been stung to death by a swarm of killer bees. Perplexed,
they rushed to the scene. They were very shocked by what they saw.
“Oh gosh, he doesn’t look good at all,” Kazra said, looking at the dead body
lying on the street side. The man’s face was swollen beyond recognition. His
whole body was a bloody mess, generously embossed with nasty-looking boils.
Chunks of flesh hung off his cheeks, exposing teeth once covered by skin and
flesh. Everyone wondered how bees could have torn up his flesh like dog bites. As
they wondered and pondered, one loud-voiced, middle-aged woman appropriately
responded as if she could read their minds.
“Eyewitnesses say the man was running like crazy, screaming, scratching, and
tearing off his flesh.”
“Strange, really strange,” an old man said.
“Poor guy,” another villager said.
“He must have really suffered,” another bystander said, puzzled by the tragedy.
“Kazra, do you recognize that black torn-up outfit?” Simba whispered to Kazra.
“No kidding, it can’t be him. The evil sorcerer?” Kazra replied, looking at the
victim more closely.
It was indeed the evil shaman. He had finally met his demise under the judgment
of a wrathful swarm of bees.
“Tragic end,” Simba said before they walked away.
Having had enough drama for one day, the three men went back to Simba’s
house, where they spent the evening relaxing, chatting, and eating. The next
afternoon, David and Simba drove back to Marondera.
Upon arrival in Marondera, David dropped Kazra at the bus station where he
boarded a bus to Harare.
Later that evening as David drove down the street on his way home, he found
his mind drowning into the realm of imagination. He could clearly visualize a
warm bubble bath followed by a soothing shoulder massage squeezing all his
stress away. Suddenly, his mental self-indulgence was cut short by a sharp earpiercing
phone ring.
“I am getting worried, it’s already 9.30 PM and Dan is not home yet,” his wife
Rita said in a nervous voice.
“Oh man, this boy drives me nuts. Where the hell is he? What time did he
leave?” David said.
“I left him home at about 4:30 PM when I went to the supermarket but when
I came back at about 5:30 PM he was gone.”
“Gone, gone where?”
“I don’t know. Mukai said he left around 5:00 PM with a bag but she doesn’t
know where he went.”
“This boy needs some serious wooping, how can he leave a ten-year-old girl
alone in the house. This is crazy. Did you check his friends?”
“I called his two friends but they don’t know where he is. I am worried David,
this is no time for a fourteen-year-old child to be out.”
As David drove on he felt overcome by a combination of anxiety, anger and
worry. This was not the first time his son Dan had brought him worries; Dan had
a tendency to systematically disobey his father’s rules. Dan was a very smart boy
but his parents and teachers often worried about his psychological health. Once
in a while he would bluntly criticize them and talk of his frequent communications
with invisible friends. However, one thing his parents were reluctant to
admit was that he had an ability to predict events before they happened.
When David arrived home, he called several relatives to check if they had seen
his son but none of them knew his whereabouts. At around 10:00 PM, just as
David and Rita agreed to call the police, the phone suddenly rang. David hastily
picked up the receiver. Much to his relief it was his son Dan on the other side of
the line.
“You got to be kidding me, what the hell are you doing in Harare, Dan?”
“I am just about to jump onto the bus, I will be home soon.”
As shocked as David and Rita were to hear that their fourteen-year-old son
had traveled to the city without their knowledge, they were happy to hear that he
was well and coming back home. Later, David picked up his son from the bus
station and drove back home.
“Wait for me in the living room, your mother and I need to talk to you,”
David said to Dan in a very stern voice as he headed for the restroom.
Dan rushed to the living room and immediately turned on the television.
“What?” Rita said, wondering if her son had gone crazy.
“There, there!” Dan shouted as he pointed at the television screen.
Walking into the room, David joined his wife in the realm of utter confusion
as they both stared at the television news report. It was news coverage on how a
mysterious fire had burnt down the Harare Medical Center.
Dan stood in front of the television laughing. Rita stood silently, still confused.
David looked at his son’s excitement and immediately suspected something
bad had happened.
“Switch it off, switch it off. Have you lost your mind?” Rita eventually said
having had enough of his son’s drama.
“Sit down Dan,” David commanded.
“I had to do it,” Dan said taking his seat, “I told you but you wouldn’t believe
me, I had to burn it down.”
“What are you talking about Dan?” Rita said, staring into Dan’s face.
“I have been telling you that they were going to start using the virus on people
but you didn’t believe me. Tah told me I had to destroy the virus supplies before
they started using them on people.”
“No, not that virus story again,” David sighed and shook his head.
Months earlier, Dan had warned his parents about a virus that was going to
wipe out more than half the population if no one acted.
From a very young age, Dan had exhibited the ability to remote view or
project his consciousness to far distances in time and space thereby allowing him
to predict events before they happened. About a month before his unauthorized
travel to Harare, he had visited Harare without his parents’ knowledge. However,
that visit had not been a physical visit, but an astral visit. That night, Dan had
been browsing through the pages of his new comic book when he suddenly found
himself in what he thought was the depths of hell. He rubbed his eyes because he
thought he had dozed off and was merely having a bad dream, but he was fully
conscious. Looking around him, he realized that he was in a small town standing
by the street side. It was a dreadful scene with nothing alive on the streets except
vultures, worms and maggots devouring the rotting bodies littered on the
ground. Looking further off down the street, Dan could see thousands of dead
human bodies, male and female, young and old all left to rot. Overcome by the
horror and a repulsive stench, he ran as fast as he could but everywhere he went
he was met with more dead bodies. Screaming for help, he suddenly found him
self back in his bedroom sweating and panting. As he stood up and walked
towards the door to go to the bathroom, a familiar voice suddenly bellowed
across the room. Turning back, he felt relieved to see Tah, who stood there by the
bed fully materialized. He was a brilliantly good-looking, thirty-year-old man.
His face was ocher brown, it shimmered and glowed with a gold and purple aura.
His eyes twinkled, sparkled, and glimmered with an inexplicably hypnotizing
effect.
“It wasn’t your imagination, it was all real,” Tah said.
Tah was a mysterious individual from beyond the physical realm who had initially
appeared to Dan at his twelfth birthday. He had subsequently reappeared to
Dan several other times. Tah had identified himself to Dan as his blood relative.
Although at that first appearance he didn’t expect Dan at his tender age to fully
understand him, he nevertheless explained that he had traveled interdimensionally
through wormholes from a distant future. According to his explanation, he
was in fact a time traveler from the year 2550, a tenth generation descendant of
Dan.
“Not your imagination,” Tah repeated, “what you saw was the future, the
future of your country and many other countries as well.”
“You mean the dead people on the street?” Dan said walking closer to Tah.
“Yes. The mass deaths were a result of a population reduction program. As we
speak now they have already shipped several consignments of virus-laced polio,
small pox and malaria vaccines.”
“I don’t understand what you are talking about,” Dan said looking confused.
“Just listen, you will understand the details with time. Things are not always
the way they appear to be. An organization called WHO in partnership with the
Rockefeller Institute under the leadership of a man called Henri Kiccingar engineered
a virus for mass population reduction. This virus is called Aids Ultra, and
it’s designed to kill people.”
“Why do they want to kill people?” Dan asked.
“It’s difficult for me to clearly explain this to you. They are basically very bad
people. It is called genocide through biological warfare. Their goal is to kill as
many people as possible and then control their land and resources. They have no
respect for life; they call people in Third World countries useless eaters and want
to kill as many as they can,” Tah explained explicitly as he walked about the
room.
“How about our government? Do they know this plan?” Dan asked.
Tah smiled, realizing that Dan was in fact following his explanation and
understanding it to a good extent.
“Unfortunately, some government officials in the health sector were bribed to
approve this program. They were convinced that the program was simply clinical
trials for birth control through malaria and polio vaccines. They will start in Zimbabwe
killing millions of people, then all across Africa, then Asia, South America,
the Middle East and Eastern Europe. But this Aids Ultra virus will mutate, spread
and kill faster than they anticipated causing a global holocaust.”
“This is scary.”
“I know, that’s why I am here to make sure that you stop it,” Tah said with a
very serious voice.
“I … I am only fourteen, how can I stop it.”
“It’s easy, if it can’t succeed here then it won’t kill people and spread around
the world. We have to make sure that the program fails and the first step is to
destroy the supplies they already shipped to Harare and are ready to start using.”
“So, are you going to tell my father or the police, maybe they can stop it.”
“No, no Dan. You are the only one I have, you are the only one who knows
and believes me. You have to do it. Once you succeed, then your father will
believe you and join you to fight these evil people. It’s very simple, I know you
can do it.”
Dan was silent for a minute and stared at the comic book on his bed.
“How?” he finally asked.
“All you need to do is burn the vaccines at the Medical Center storage room,”
Tah smiled in an effort to reduce the gravity and serious implications of his
words.
“But you said they are in Harare, how can I go there alone when I don’t even
know the location of the Medical Center.”
“Trust me, don’t worry, I will give you all the information you need.”
From that day on, all Dan had to do was wait for the appointed time to commence
his mission.
Back in the living room, David and Rita sat listening carefully as Dan
explained how he had ended up leaving for Harare without their knowledge.
David was still angry and felt that this character called Tah was undermining his
authority over Dan, as well as endangering his son. Rita, on the other hand, felt
guilty; she remembered that Dan had previously tried to warm her on his vision
of impending mass deaths but she had dismissed it as a mere nightmare.
Dan continued explaining. “When I got there at about 8:30 PM, I waited for
the security guard to leave his post as Tah had foretold, then I entered the storage
room through a window. The room was large and very cold. I then took out the
paraffin bottle from the bag and sprinkled the paraffin on the boxes and large
containers of the vaccines. When I was done I jumped out through the window,
lit the matchstick and threw it in through the window. I ran off as fast as I could
leaving the room in flames.”
David and Rita looked at each other helplessly and shook their heads. David
realized that his anger towards his son would not resolve this issue; he needed to
investigate the whole story in detail and get to the bottom of things.
“Promise me one thing Dan,” David said looking at his son straight in the
eyes, “you will not do such a thing again, or try to save the world without telling
me. Burning private property is a very serious crime.”
“Yes dad,” Dan replied as he wondered about his father’s words and why his
anger had mysteriously dissipated.
“But David,” Rita said, “don’t you think you need to investigate this vaccine
virus story? Obviously there is something really strange going on here, Dan is just
too young to have imagined up such a conspiracy. After all, we all heard on the
news that the Medical Center was mysteriously burnt down.”
“I know, I need to talk to this Tah character before I can investigate this theory
about the killer virus.”
From that day on, the tables would turn; David had several encounters with
Tah the time traveler. At first he thought Tah was a ghost playing tricks on them
but after a few discussions with him about the present world and future world,
David became convinced that Tah was, in fact, a genuine time traveler. This
marked the beginning of David’s work to fight genocidal eugenicists and elite
Malthusian organizations globally.

Sin - Crystal V. Rhodes

2008-10-17T06:15:00.000-07:00

Sin

By Crystal V. Rhodes

ISBN# 978-1585713112

Publisher Genesis Press

Genre Romantic Suspense

Copyright 2000

Published date June 2008 (re-release)

Where it can be purchased Amazon.com and Genesis-Press.com

Website www.crystalrhodes.com

Blurb about the book:

My mother was a junkie.' These starling words are Reverend Nedra Davis' introduction to the handsome, mysterious stranger named Sinclair Reasoner, who goes by the name, Sin. It is a name that will prove to be prophetic as the lady minister falls for him. Yet, a dangerous secret lurks behind Sin's seductive smile. Unknown to Nedra who is renown for her anti-drug activism in the community Sinclair Reason
is involved in the drug trade.

PROLOGUE

“My mother was a junkie.”
The words were said so matter-of-fact that Nedra Davis wasn’t certain that she had heard them. Yet, her only acknowledgment that he had spoken was a slight shift in her seat. She registered no surprise. He registered no emotion. His eyes, still focused on her, were blank. His expression was unreadable.
He continued. “She was 25 years old when she died. I was ten.”
Simple math told her that he had been the product of a teenage pregnancy. She didn’t want to speculate, but she could guess the rest of the scenario--young, pregnant, desperate girl finds escape from the reality of her dilemma in drugs. She had witnessed it too many times, and it seemed that it was the innocent ones, the children, who suffered the most. Neglected, dejected, too often abandoned and left alone to make their own way, their futures were predictable--crime, drugs, imprisonment, and much too often, death.
There were times, however, that the outcome was different. Sometimes the lucky ones escaped the cycle of despair, using reservoirs of strength that never ceased to amaze.
Nedra studied the man sitting before her. He was one of the lucky ones.
Strikingly handsome, he was dressed, impeccably, in an expensive, double breasted, navy blue suit, his snow white shirt complemented the reddish hues in his chocolate brown skin. His hair was cut close to his head in a wavy black sculpture, sprinkled sparsely with gray. A thick, well trimmed mustache enhanced the sparkling smile he had bestowed on her when he approached her in the parking lot earlier. Coal black eyes, beneath long sooty lashes looked as if they could see straight into her soul. Sharp cheekbones emphasized a broad, flat nose. Embedded in his chin was a cleft, a deep slash of a cleft, which gave his features a rugged, masculine quality. He was about 6 feet 2 inches of masculine perfection, a man any woman couldn’t help but notice—even a female minister.
“Reverend Davis,” he continued, “This boy is the same age as I was when my mother died. His little brother is only five. Yet, this ten year old is responsible for his kid brother—feeding him, clothing him, and keeping a roof over his head, and it’s a job he takes very seriously.”
“You say you caught him trying to steal your car?” Nedra raised an eyebrow in obvious surprise at his calm reaction to such a transgression. “Why didn’t you call the police?”
“Actually, he was trying to steal the radio.” He chuckled, ignoring her question. “Cursed me out good when I caught him, but he’s a bright kid and as smart as hell!”
Nedra raised a brow again at his choice of words. He didn’t blink, recant, or apologize.
“He by-passed my alarm system with some gadget he made himself with a piece of wood, some wires, tape and batteries. I looked at the thing and couldn’t figure out how he did it. The kid is a mechanical genius.”
“You keep calling him ‘the kid’. Does the boy have a name?” His enthusiasm over this child had piqued her interest.
“His name is Colin Johnson. His little brother’s name is Trevor. Both of the boys are quite articulate.”
“They sound interesting.”
“They are, and they’re good kids trapped in a bad situation. That’s why I came here to your church, instead of calling the cops on Colin. I’ve heard that under you, this church has an excellent reputation in the community. You serve it well with a child care center, low cost housing, an on the job training program, a food pantry, clothes closet, drug rehab program and a homeless shelter. You name it, Mount Peter is doing it.”
“We try.”
“No, you do more than try. You get the job done. When I took that boy home to talk to his mother—” He sighed, running his hand over his face in frustration as he recalled the boy’s environment, “Nobody, nobody, should live like that. It was filthy! There were dirty clothes and dirty dishes everywhere. The smell was awful! The place hadn’t been cleaned since who knows when. There was no food in the refrigerator. The little one was there by himself—filthy, raggedy and hungry. Colin was trying to steal the radio so he could sell it for money to buy food. That’s what his little brother told me.”
“The poor little things.”
“The boys claimed that their mother was coming home soon. I knew they were
lying. I figured that she hadn’t been around for a while. I was in and out of there for four, maybe, five hours. I bought food and cleaning supplies, and made them clean up that rat trap. I didn’t see her while I was there. I took them to the Laundromat to wash the clothes, and I bought them a couple of outfits.”
“That was very nice of you.” The more he spoke, the more impressed she was
with this man. If she had passed him on the street she would have identified him as another aimless playboy, not the kind caring man sitting before her.
“Nice has nothing to do with it. As I said before, I was Colin at ten. He and his brother need help, and I want to see that they get it. I think that you can make that happen.”
Clasping her hands together on top of her desk, Nedra sighed. There was so much need for so many. It was hard to keep up.
“What can we do?”
Briefly, his dark eyes drifted away from her to the Brenda Joyce print hanging on the pale, yellow wall behind her. It was a print of a mother and child, a portrait striking in its beauty and grace. His eyes shifted back to Nedra, piercing her with their intensity as she sat watching him.
Who was this stranger? He had approached her as she unlocked the back door of the church, his deep, masculine voice calling her name. Startled, she turned and her heartbeat accelerated as she saw him standing there. He was so tall and so handsome. Her heartbeat had n’t slowed down yet.
“I’ve been going by the boys’ house for two weeks now,” he continued, “and I’ve only seen evidence once that their mother has been back in that apartment.”
“What evidence was that?”
“I’ve been leaving her notes everyday asking her to call me. She did, last night, sounding high as a kite. She gave all kinds of excuses for missing me at the apartment, and then said that she needed some money to pay the rent. But, I knew she was lying.”
“How?”
“I’d already paid the rent for three months in advance. She just didn’t know it.”
“So she wanted the money for dope.”
“What else? When I refused to give it to her, she offered to—” He shifted uncomfortably, in his chair. “Well, let’s say she’ll do anything for a fix. I refused that offer, so she offered to sell the boys to me.”
Nedra’s heart lurched. “Oh my God!”
“That’s why I’m here. Those kids have to leave there.”
“You’re right. Where are they now?”
“At home. As soon as she hung up I went by to check on them, hoping that I could catch her, but I didn’t. Trevor is the only one that I can get any information from and he said she came home briefly, then left again. I stayed with them until early this morning, went home, changed and came straight here.” He sat back in his chair allowing her time to absorb the information that he had provided.
The sorrow Nedra felt was overwhelming. She’d read about people selling their children, but the reality of what had been said stunned her. “Why haven’t you called the police about this? It’s obvious that those boys need to be removed from that house, immediately.”
“I know, but I think it would be better if you called them. The boys are traumatized enough. I don’t want them to think I betrayed them too. I thought that maybe you might have some family in the church who could take them in. I heard about the foster-adopt program you have here. A lot of your church members adopt, is that right?”
“Yes, I’m proud to say that’s true.”
“Then isn’t there some way that you can make the process of removing them from their home easier, a way that they won’t have to go into the foster care system?
Nedra paused, her mind skirting the possibilities of how she could make that happen. “I can make a call to a friend of mine and see what can be done. She’s a social worker at Children’s Services.”
“Great.” He sighed his relief.
Nedra started dialing the telephone. “She’ll need to talk with you.”
“No problem.”
Nedra smiled at him, reassuringly, as she waited for someone to respond to the ring. Nervously, she averted her eyes from his, unable to hold his piercing gaze. She was
grateful when the call was answered on the other end.
“Child Welfare, Sharon Mays speaking.”
“Hello, Sharon. It’s Nedra.” Her tone was somber. “Unfortunately, I’ve got another one for you. A Mr...”
Nedra glanced up at the stranger sitting across from her realizing that they had been talking for nearly an hour and she still didn’t know his name. “A Mr...”
He gave her a crooked smile as he realized her dilemma. “Reasoner. Sinclair Reasoner.” The smile deepened, “But you can call me Sin.”

I have Seen Him in the Watchfires - Cathy Gohlke

2008-10-16T06:13:00.000-07:00

I have Seen Him in the Watchfires

By Cathy Gohlke

ISBN# 0-8024-8774-2

Publisher Moody Publishers

Genre Fiction/General/Historical

Copyright 2008

Published date 9/1/08

Where it can be purchased bookstores/Amazon

Website http://www.cathygohlke.com/Cathy_Gohlke_/Home.html

Prologue

Ma left us to go south and live with Grandfather Ashton a full year before the Confederacy fired on Fort Sumter. When President Lincoln called for 75,000 Union troops to squelch the rebellion, Pa telegraphed Ma that North Carolina wasn’t safe, that he was coming to get her, to bring her home to Maryland, to Laurelea. Ma shot back, “Ashland is my home. I’ll defend it with my last breath. I am proud of our men who will do the same on the battlefield. Do not come unless you come to enlist with them. I will not go with you.”
I wanted Ma to be proud of me, too—more than anything. And I was itching to fight, like every boy I knew, but not for the Confederacy.
I’d cast my lot with Pa and the Henrys, and with Mr. Heath, their employer, in running Laurelea as a station—a safe house, part of the Underground Railroad. I’d run escaped slaves north on the freedom train, beginning with Grandfather Ashton’s son, born of a slave woman—the boy he’d planned to sell. I’d buried my best friend, William Henry, who’d died protecting us all for the same cause.
I could not fight for states that bought and sold human beings. But with Ma and all her kin in the south, how could I carry a gun to her door?
Pa made me promise that whatever I decided, I’d stay at Laurelea to help Mr. Heath and the Henrys with the farm and the Underground Railroad, that I’d wait to enlist until I turned eighteen. “Then think long and hard,” he said, “before you agree to shoot one of your countrymen—or kin—between the eyes.”
It was a promise I sometimes regretted, but kept true, until the spring of 1864, until the day Emily’s letter came.

Late May, 1864
Chapter One

Our worst spring storm broke on the edge of midnight, a river thrown from the sky. By dawn the Laurel Run had overflowed its banks and was busy stripping the lower fields clean. I knew it even as I lay in my bed, listening to the downpour.
Maybe it was the wind and thunder, or maybe my mind so bent on worry for our new crop, but I never heard the parcel thrust inside the parlor door, never heard so much as a knock or footfall. When, at first light I found it, battered and beaten, bound by twine, I knew that the messenger had taken care to keep it dry. But the seal on Emily’s letter was broken, proof that somebody knew our business.
It wasn’t that violation that made the heat creep up my neck as I tore open the letter.
It was the first words Emily’d ever penned me: “Dearest Cousin Robert.” She’d written on Christmas Day—five long months before. Still, it was a miracle that it had come at all, the mail from the south being what it was.
“Yesterday,” she wrote, “I was visited by Lt. Col. Stuart Copeland, of the 11th North Carolina, lately a prisoner, exchanged from Fort Delaware, Pea Patch Island. Lt. Col. Copeland informed me that Papa—Col. Albert Mitchell—there, I’ve written his precious name—was chest wounded, and captured at the battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, 3rd July, along with his remaining men from the 26th North Carolina. He said that Papa, like so many prisoners at Fort Delaware, suffers gravely from smallpox.”
It was the first news she’d had of him in over a year, and she was desperate to know if he lived . . . “I beg you, by all the love of family we have ever known, to forget the estrangement of this maddening war and do all you can for Papa.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. It was a hard request. I’d turn the world over for Emily, if given the chance, but Cousin Albert was another matter. I figured him to be the reason, or a good part of the reason Ma never came home.
“Gladly would I go myself,” she wrote, “but the railroads are a shambles, and Uncle Marcus is not well. I do not know if he will see the spring.” I couldn’t imagine Ashland without Grandfather, or Ma without him—and why was all this left to Emily’s care? She was no older than me. I took up the letter again.
“I would send Alex, but Papa sent him to school in England for the duration of the war, and we have heard nothing from him in two years. The blockades prevent all such communication.”
I felt my jaw tighten, remembering Emily’s younger brother. Alex’s first priority was always Alex. I couldn’t imagine him risking life and limb to help anyone, his father included, if it meant he’d inherit Mitchell House, and possibly Ashland, sooner. That was his life’s goal, even before his voice began to squeak.
“As you can imagine, this horrible war has taken its toll on us all, especially your dear mother. I promise that Cousin Caroline will want for nothing that I can provide in this life as long as I live and am able to care for her. If there is any way you or Cousin Charles can come to her aid, I urge you to do so. But I beg you to see about Papa first.”
My heart raced to think of going to Emily, and to Ma, that they might need me, might want me. It was the first news I’d heard of Ma in months. I tried to conjure their faces, but they wouldn’t come. I remembered that Emily was a younger, darker version of Ma, that Ma’s eyes were blue, and Emily’s brown. But four long years had passed since Ma’d left, longer still since I’d seen Emily, and there was not so much as a tintype to remind me. I forced myself back to the letter.
“With this letter I enclose a parcel of comforts for Papa. I have no hope that they would reach him if I sent them directly to the prison. We have heard such stories of the prison guards. . . ”
I set the letter on the parlor table and counted the days since the battle of Gettysburg. After ten months, stuck in a Union prison—chest wounded, and with small pox—I couldn’t hope that Cousin Albert lived. But for Emily’s sake, and for all she’d done and bound herself to do for Ma, I vowed to heed her plea, to go and see, and do my best by him.

Mismatched - Laura Major

2008-10-15T06:12:00.000-07:00

Mismatched
By Laura Major

Arriving home from the jog, Tessa jumped into the shower to refresh herself. After enjoying a long shower, she pulled back the shower curtain and reached for the towel hanging behind the door. She was drying off her body, when the phone rang. What is this? Groundhog’s Day? Tessa thought. She stepped from the shower and walked through the bedroom, wrapping the towel around her as she went.
“Hello?” Tessa answered on the fourth ring.
“What are you doing?”
“Hi, Mom. I was just getting out of the shower, why?”
“Oh, it is Sunday, isn’t it? I see you still think gallivanting with your friends is still more important than supporting your relationship with the Creator?”
“You know I was jogging, not gallivanting. Besides, I was appreciating the Creator by communing with nature.” Even Tessa, standing in the center of her bedroom, was impressed with that quick retort.
“We’ll see how witty you are on Judgment Day.”
“Despite knowing how much you love to lecture me, I had planned to call you when I finished freshening up.”
“What could possibly entice you to bestow a little unprovoked attention on your mother?”
“You first. Why did you call?” Tessa asked ignoring the sarcasm. Preparing for the reply, she sat on the edge of her bed.
“I was checking on when you’d be by to finish helping with the rummage sale preparations.”
“I won’t be able to make it, something—”
“What? I should have known.”
“-something came up, but I’ll be there next weekend. However, I did arrange for Cara to come by today. That’s why I was planning to call you, so you’d know to expect her.”
“You know what they say about idle intentions. As usual, you’re too late. Cara’s already here.”
“So you’ve got your help then. Now, Cara’s not your daughter. You can’t badger and ridicule her. Be nice.”
“I am the perfect hostess. Besides, she’s been around long enough. I don’t have to give her any special treatment.”
“Well, I’ve got to go, Mom.”
“Fine. See you next weekend.”
Tessa hung up the phone knowing she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Cara next Sunday. She went back to preparing for her date. Once the process was complete, Tessa emerged from the bedroom refreshed and ready to enjoy the midday blind date. She entered the living room carrying white anklet socks in one hand and a pair of white oxford tennis shoes in the other. She wore a khaki mini skort and a sleeveless red polo shirt. Her hair was pulled back into a long wavy ponytail and her makeup was natural. Unsure of what to expect and no idea of where she was meeting this new bachelor, Tessa grabbed her backpack purse and exited the apartment, locking the door behind her. Walking down the hall, she knocked on Justin’s front door before using his spare key to let herself in. She opened the door when she saw a white blur whiz across her field of vision and disappear into the bedroom.
“Oops, sorry,” Tessa called out.
“Yeah, right. Don’t you mean, ‘Sorry I didn’t barge in sooner’?” Justin hollered back from the bedroom.
“Exactly, next time I’ll know better.”
“I should have known this was coming after I walked in on you last week.”
“You’re running late. Don’t we need to get going?” Tessa called out before she made herself comfortable on the sofa.
“I’ll give you the address. This isn’t a double date, remember?”
“Yeah, but you haven’t told me who I’m meeting and where.”
“Wait until you get there. He knows what you look like, so he’ll approach you.”
“You’ve been real secretive lately, and I don’t like it.” Tessa picked up the remote and aimlessly began to surf the channels.
“Come on it will be fun.” Justin walked out of the bedroom wearing blue jeans and a navy t-shirt.
“You’re wearing that?” Tessa asked suddenly feeling a little overdressed.
“What is that you’re wearing, a miniskirt?”
“It’s a skort. Should I change?”
“No. You look athletic. That’ll work, but I hope you’re good at staying on your feet. I’d hate to see you scrape up those pretty legs of yours,” Justin said with a smirk.
“Looking athletic is one thing, but being athletic is something else entirely. You better tell me what we’re doing.”
“Not a chance,” Justin replied heading to the kitchen counter. He wrote something on a piece of scratch paper. “Here’s the address. You better get going. Leila should be here any minute. Then we’ll head over after you.”
Tessa stood and took the piece of paper from Justin’s hand. Reviewing it, she recognized the street but couldn’t think of what would be there that was worthy of a first date. She left the apartment and drove to the address on the scratch paper. Upon arriving, she couldn’t believe where Justin’s note had directed her. Pulling into the parking lot, Tessa parked and began sifting through her purse in search of her cell phone. She found it, dialed and waited for an answer.
“Hello, Tessa. Are you there already? Leila just arrived and we’re heading to my car now.”
“Justin! Why are we meeting at a roller rink?”
“Come on, Tess. It’ll be fun.”
“I haven’t skated since we were kids.”
“Yeah, those were some great times.”
“Let’s focus, Justin. Smelly rental skates and cheap food isn’t my idea of fun. This is worse than the burlesque show. You’re doing this on purpose.” Tessa slapped the steering wheel for emphasis even though no one could see her.
“You need to lighten up. You’re thirty-one, not fifty-one. Now get in there and find your date.”
“I don’t know what he looks like, remember?”
“I already told you I selected him from your list of favorites. Besides, as I’ve said before, he knows what you look like. Now, go.”
Before Tessa could respond, the conversation was over with a click. She stepped out of the car and into the humid sunlight that only a Jersey Spring could provide. With a thumb on the remote, Tessa locked her car and headed to the rink’s entrance. Once inside, she ordered her rental skates and handed the attendant her debit card.
Looking at the card and back at Tessa he began, “You’re Tessa Dennison?”
“Yes, why?”
“Well, your admission and skate rental have already been paid for,” the attendant replied and handed back her card. “Also, here’s a gift card for the snack bar, because that’s already taken care of too.”
Tessa didn’t understand. “How can this be?”
“It’s included in the party package. Someone in your party arranged it. It was kind of weird, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“How’s that?” Tessa was very intrigued now.
“Well, the guy who arranged it paid for two parties, each one to accommodate only two people. Why not make it a party of four?”
Tessa couldn’t help but smile when she replied. “Well, it’s not your average party. Thanks for the info.” Tessa grabbed her skates off the counter and walked away completely amazed at Justin’s ability to address every detail.
Sitting on a bench near the rink, Tessa unlaced her tennies and slipped them off. Bent over to unlace the skates and slip her feet into them, she noticed a pair of skates approaching her.
“Tessa?”
Looking up, Tessa replied, “Yes, that’s me. You must be Niceguy73.” Tessa was relieved that she recognized him from her favorites list. Niceguy73 was just as he had described himself in his online profile, but his picture didn’t begin to capture his handsome charm. He was at least six-foot-two with a shiny cocoa brown head and hazel eyes. Aside from that beautiful baldhead, Tessa couldn’t overlook those bulging muscles that stretched the seams of his gray khaki slacks and black polo shirt to their limit.
“Please call me John. Can I help you up?” Before she could reply, John grabbed her by the elbow and raised her to her feet.
“Whoa, I haven’t finished tying my laces.” No sooner had Tessa finished her sentence than she felt her feet slip out from under her. John tried to regain grip of her arm. She began flailing her arms in a wild circular motion when her right skate jerked into John’s ankle, causing them both to collapse to the floor. Tessa held her breath. She had narrowly missed hitting her head on the bench.
With legs intertwined, John looked over at Tessa. “Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way.”
“Be prepared. I’m sure there’s more where that came from. Are you okay?” Tessa asked, reaching over to tie her laces.
“Yeah, but if you don’t mind, I’ll let you get up on your own,” John replied while he rubbed his ankle.
John managed to rise to his feet first. Using the bench to brace herself, she looked up to notice Justin grinning down at her from the glassed-in skybox lounge. Tapping John on the shoulder, Tessa pointed at the skybox. “That wasn’t there when I came here as a kid. What’s up there?”
“That’s the snack lounge. They added it when this place went through major renovations a few years back. There’s a pool table up there to occupy those who’d rather rack up balls, instead of bruises.”
“Well, depending on how I do out there, we may need to retire to the skybox to nurse our contusions over a drink,” Tessa teased and motioned toward the rink.
Tessa and John slowly shuffled toward the lockers to put away her shoes and other belongings. Putting the locker key in the pocket of her skort, Tessa smiled at John who was watching her every movement.
“So are you ready to brave the rink? Or would you rather warm up on the carpet?”
“Let’s go for it.” Tessa felt a burst of spontaneity.
“Ooh, I like a lady who’s willing to take risks. Let’s go.” John grabbed her arm before she could change her mind and headed toward the rink. Justin did it again, Tessa thought when she recognized the retro eighties music that played overhead. It was amazing how enjoyable this date was turning out to be despite its kiddy appeal. She chuckled to herself while watching skaters of all ages, sizes, and skill levels glide across the smooth floor. When Tessa and John neared the rink’s edge, John gave her one last smile before he pulled her in front allowing her to precede him. Feeling a little apprehensive, Tessa slowly stepped onto the rink floor. Obviously, anxious to get out there, John stepped onto the floor behind her, giving her a little push as he grabbed hold of her waist. They began to skate around the circular rink. Feeling that Tessa was comfortable, John let go and grabbed her hand.
“So you like risk, eh?” Tessa asked while keeping her eyes in front of her.
“In my line of work, it comes with the territory.”
“What line of work is that?”
“I’m in emergency response.”
“What does that mean exactly?”
“I train different government personnel on how to respond to different emergencies.”
“You mean terrorism?”
“That’s one example, yes.”
“That’s pretty impressive. That explains the build.”
“Yes. I have to be ready for anything.”
After several laps, Tessa found herself torn. John was really interesting and good-looking. He encompassed a rare balance of brawn and intelligence. Daniel, on the other hand, possessed razor-sharp ambition, and he also was easy on the eyes. Justin may have started out a little weak in this matchmaking game, but he was right. He was definitely getting the hang of it.
“Hey, where were you just now?” John gently tugged her hand to bring her back to reality.
“Just thinking how nice this date is turning out to be.”
“After three weeks of e-mails through the dating site, are you really surprised?”
This having been the first time that Tessa had ever talked to John, she knew she would have to think fast to keep her secret.
“Not that I’m a serial online dater, but I’ve been at it long enough to know that not everyone is how they present themselves.”
“The same holds true for some in the real world, too.” John smiled at her and continued. “During our e-mail exchange, I was thinking that you might be too good to be true. But if you don’t mind me saying so this soon, you are even better than I imagined.”
“I don’t know what to say.” In actuality, it was too soon, but Tessa knew that John was working from a level of intimacy different from her own. She found it interesting that Justin could win this stranger over by impersonating her. It gave her insight into how he perceived her and what attributes she possessed that Justin thought others would find attractive.
“You don’t have to say anything. Do you want to check out the snack bar?”
Grateful that John wasn’t pushing for a response to his declaration, Tessa jumped at the chance to change the subject. “I’d love to. Let’s go.”
John let Tessa lead him off the floor, when she stopped suddenly and turned to him. “We should probably put on our street shoes.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine trying to climb the stairs of the snack bar in these things.”
After making it back from the lockers with their street shoes in place, Tessa and John arrived at the skybox snack bar. Inside the bar, the walls were decorated terra cotta, and paprika red with black trim. The east and west walls were painted red while the south wall behind the bar itself was the color of terra cotta.
Standing in front of the menu billboard hanging just over the bar, the couple surveyed the options in silence.
“Have you decided what you want?” John asked while reaching into his back pocket.
“Yes, but why don’t you tell me what you want and I’ll order while you grab us a table?” Not wanting to explain why the snack bar was complimentary, Tessa hoped John would agree to her suggestion.
“Okay, sure. Here’s some cash.” John handed her two twenties from his black leather billfold after giving her his order.
“That’s not necessary,” Tessa said pushing the money away.
“Please, I’m a gentleman. Take it.”
Tessa knew it wasn’t worth an argument.
John left her with his money and headed to the lounge area in search of an empty table. Tessa turned her attention back to the snack bar and found her place at the end of the line. Waiting behind a mother who couldn’t decide on the most nutritious snack for her kids, Tessa sensed someone approaching on her right.
“How’s it going?”
“It’s going well, despite your attempt to sabotage this date.” Tessa knew Justin couldn’t resist interrupting to check his handiwork.
“What are you talking about? Roller skating is a creative first date.”
“Yeah, if we were twelve.”
Before Justin could reply, the mother finally made her selection and began looking in her purse to pay the tab.
“You’d better order. You don’t want to keep Bigfoot waiting.”
“Ha,ha,ha. Just remember, you selected him from my favorites. I didn’t know you had such great taste in men.”
“You didn’t leave me much to work with honey.” Justin smiled and turned on his heel, heading back from where he came.
Once the mother parted with her money and stepped to the side, allowing Tessa room to walk up to the bar.
After paying for and retrieving her order from the pickup counter, she turned around to search the lounge area for John. She spotted him waving at her. He sat only a few tables away from where Leila and Justin appeared to be playing pool. Had he witnessed her exchange with Justin?
“Was that guy bothering you?” John asked when Tessa arrived at the table.
“Why? Would you beat him up for me?” Tessa teased.
“That depends. What would you do for me?”
“Hey! Since when does a lady have to repay her suitor for defending her honor?”
“Sorry, hon, that extreme form of chivalry has gone the way of the corset.”
“Since when?” Tessa wasn’t sure he was teasing anymore. To avoid meeting his eyes in wait for his reply, Tessa sat the tray down on the table.
“Well, when you fight for equal pay, the right to choose, and burn your bras, you can’t expect men to still throw their coats over puddles so you can avoid getting your feet wet.”
Tessa, stunned for a moment, began to eat her hamburger in silence. Then a smile emerged as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “Care to play a little pool?”

***

“I can’t believe how long this week has been, and it’s only Wednesday.”
“The office hunt has really gotten to you hasn’t it?”
“You have no idea, Geoff. It’s not the hunt, but my hunting companion.” Justin whispered with his back turned to his computer.
“You shouldn’t let him get to you.”
“I know. I talked to Chambers about his attitude at the first site. But he just told me to deal with it since it’s only temporary.”
“That’s the version of his advice that’s appropriate for corporate consumption. In other words, stop your whining. Now tell me about last Sunday’s date?”
“Well, it was definitely entertaining.”
“Okay, I’ll bite, but it better be good.”
“Oh, it’s good. You know the skating rink in Edison?”
“You planned a skating date? How cute. I always thought you were a little light on testosterone.”
Ignoring Geoff’s dig, Justin continued. “I had Tessa meet her mystery date at the rink on her own. I didn’t tell her who the date was, so she arrived there totally blind.”
“So how did she know him when he arrived?”
“He was from her favorites list. Besides, he would recognize her from the picture she posted on her profile. But that’s not the important part.”
“You know I have to understand the logistics. But don’t mind me, go ahead and continue.”
“Anyway, all of the date expenses were prepaid including the skate rentals and snack bar costs.”
“Wow, you thought of everything.”
“I don’t know if you’ve been to this skating rink since the renovation, but the snack bar is actually upstairs. It’s constructed like a skybox lounge with pool tables for patrons who have no interest in skating and windows to watch the action below. They even have roller hockey tournaments.”
“What the hell? You made that up.”
“I didn’t, but the new owner did.”
“What the hell is it?”
“Think of roller derby with sticks and a puck, ice hockey without the ice, or better yet, indoor street hockey.”
“Dude, we’ll totally have to check that out. Can anyone play?”
“I think you have to join the league, you know like bowling? But again, we haven’t reached the climax.”
“Well, get there faster.”
“I’m getting there. I’m getting there. When Leila and I arrived—”
“Ha ha ha, maybe you’ll get over princess yet.”
“Please, she’s just a diversion.”
“A sexy diversion.”
“Anyway, Leila and I stayed in the skybox snack bar playing pool. We played right near the window.”
“So you could keep tabs on the date taking place below. Genius!”
“Exactly. It was like watching a reality TV show. I had a skybox view of this guy following Tessa around like a horny puppy dog.”
“Now you know how I feel watching you and Tessa all these years.” Geoff laughed.
“Screw you, I’m nothing like that. Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?”
“The truth stings, doesn’t it? But please go on.”
Justin was getting annoyed but everyone needs that friend who won’t hold back. Geoff, in his own crude way, was that friend. “Like I was saying, I had the perfect view. It almost made up for the fact that Leila was kicking my ass. Why didn’t you warn me she was a pool hustler?”
“Leila is full of surprises. I thought it best you discover them on your own.”
“Yeah, I’m finding out all right.”
“So did Tessa and this guy actually hit the rink?”
“Oh yeah, but not before crashing to the carpet in a limb-entangled heap.”
“With all the touching and body movements that go on in skating, it’s just like the bumping and grinding of dancing when sexual attraction is high. Are you sure this was a good idea?”
“Hey, Tess is no athlete and they were too embarrassed after that collision. It may not have stopped the attraction but it escalated like a trickling stream, not a raging river. Besides I spent a couple of weeks getting to know this guy.”
“I hope you’re right, for your sake.”
“Stop interrupting and you’ll see.”
“I’m listening, keep going.”
“They skate through several selections of her favorite ’80s music, and then suddenly they exit the rink, heading to the lockers.”
“Ooh, I bet you were worried that they hit it off too well.”
“Yeah, until I saw them switch into their street shoes and head toward the stairs that lead to the skybox snack bar. They had a little exchange in line at the snack bar and then he left her side after giving her some cash.”
“He didn’t know it was prepaid?”
“No, I guess he didn’t, and apparently, Tessa didn’t tell him. So I left Leila briefly to check on the progress.”
“I hope you filled Leila in on your role in this caper. Otherwise, she might be very curious to know why the two of you weren’t hanging out with Tessa and her date.”
“I told her all she needed to know.”
“Ha, you’re not as pure as you’d like people to think. I like this side of you.”
“Why, because it makes you feel better about your own lack of integrity?”
“Of course, I don’t deny it. So, how did Tessa take you checking up on her?”
Justin looked around the office to be sure he was still alone. “She assured me that things were going well. So, I went back to Leila, while keeping an eye on the events that followed.”
“You mean Mr. Wonderful would show his true colors this early? What an amateur.”
“You got it. Of course, I knew it was coming. I knew he couldn’t help himself. I never developed the art of reading lips, but I could see that he talked himself right out of Tessa’s feminine good graces.”
“You could tell that just from watching them out of earshot?”
“I admit it was just a sneaking suspicion, but it was confirmed when Tessa broke my cover.”
“She what?”
“One moment they’re sitting at a table eating a late lunch, then Tessa gets up and leads him to Leila and me.”
“Did she pretend you were strangers?”
“No, she introduced us. When his eyes popped out of his head, Tessa elbowed him in the ribs and said, ‘You don’t honestly think I would meet a stranger from the Internet without bringing along a little insurance, do you?’ I tell you, it was real smooth how she turned the tables like that. Then she turned to me and said, ‘Justin, you and Leila don’t mind if we crash your game, do you?’ She leaned forward and squeezed my arm while she asked the question, and in that moment, I knew that meat head had a lesson coming his way.” Justin laughed as he replayed the event in his mind’s eye.
“No kidding, that guy didn’t know what he was in for. But how bad could a date get in fifteen minutes? Tessa should know by now you can’t crush a guy’s ego on the first day. No wonder her love life sucks.”
“Dude, you totally missed the signal. That was her whole plan.”
“Man, I don’t profess to understand that weird codependent language you two share.”
“Whatever. My point is this, what does our little Tessa hate more than anything when it comes to men?”
“Pigs.”
“Yes, but not just any pig, but a male chauvinist pig in particular.”
“Oh boy, it’s humiliation time.”
“That’s right, my man. Most women would go into a long tirade about how much better women are than men and how men would never treat their mothers like second class citizens, but not Tessa, no. Tessa, who believes that action stings far more than any words she could hurl, would rather humiliate him on his own playing field.”
“Yeah, the poor bastard, how bad did he lose?”
“Oh, I lost count after he was in the hole for two hundred dollars.”
“Aw shit, man, she had him by the ’nads.”
“Yeah, it was a blast. He hardly had the chance to shoot. One of the numerous times Tessa stood next to me eyeing her next move while she chalked her cue, she mumbled, ‘Oh, he wanted to pay for everything. Well, he’s certainly paying now.’ Leila couldn’t hold back the laughter that time. So am I right, was that good or what?”
“Dude, you took the scenic route, but it was well worth it.”

Margaret Iuculano - My God Box

2008-10-14T09:11:00.001-07:00

A special opening message from Margaret Iuculano:

I want to thank our Blog Host for taking the time to read My God Box a memoir about an abusive childhood but more importantly on how a mustard seed of faith in God turned around the life of a child. I feel blessed that you are willing to share the book on the Blog Tour Name. You are helping to create awareness about a topic that desperately needs to be addressed and has reached epidemic proportions - 500,000 children in the Foster Care System within the US.

Our country is in a crisis with an overloaded Foster Care System and children falling through the cracks daily and being put into homes to provide safety only to be left neglected again. How can we expect these children to become productive adults growing up in this environment? How can we teach these children how to have faith in God and then themselves to correct the wrongs being committed in their lives? How can we help Foster Parents to recognize the difference they can make in a life of a child and the importance of their role? And most importantly, how can we teach to break the Cycle of Abuse so we can shrink the numbers of children going into foster care in the future?

There's a truth I came to realize that changed my life and can change the lives of others. Have Faith in God - put your troubles into his hands and allow him to use you for the purpose you were born for. Once I started to follow this truth in my life I came out of despair to complete happiness and peace. I recognized my ability to help others and the importance of viewing each other as Gods children, people who possess a lot of value and have a mission just like I do for God.

When I began to see that God had a mission for my life, I started to embrace my challenges and learn from them without looking back. I was able to rid myself of the victim mentality and succeed where I was told I never would.

My prayer is that you see the message in My God Box and that it will inspire you to learn to overcome a traumatic experience and more importantly help someone else. I pray that you will agree that all it takes is a mustard seed of faith to realize your God Given potential.

God Bless You,
Margaret Iuculano

Tell us a little more about yourself.

I am a wife, mother, entrepreneur and children’s rights activist with an unwavering faith in God that has led, leads and will undoubtedly lead me to the successful outcome of all my projects.

What compelled you to write My God Box?

I feel I was blessed to have found God amid all the pain and misery I endured during my growing years. However, I also feel it’s time to give thanks and give back. I struggled for over two years with doubts and mixed feelings about setting my life in print, but whenever I took a step back, I was energized and encouraged by the awe-inspiring certainty that God wanted me to tell my story—for self-healing, but more importantly to open the minds and hearts of other suffering individuals to the mercy and goodness of God. God is hope. Without God there is no hope. Without hope there is no life.

Who is your target audience?

My God Box is addressed to anyone struggling to overcome the traumas and challenges of a dysfunctional or broken life. It is also for anyone associated with someone living in pain and misery. Furthermore, it is for anyone who wants to live a serene life in harmony with the wishes of their Creator. In other words it is for everyone who seeks happiness and fulfillment for themselves and/or others.

What are some of the stark realities surrounding Foster Care Programs?

The truth is that children are not ‘OK’ just because they have been removed from an abusive home and entrusted to a foster family. Although there are kind, nurturing people enrolled as foster parents, on the flip side there are individuals interested only in the monetary aspects of the program; individuals often just as, if not more dysfunctional, emotionally unstable and abusive than the child’s biological parents. This is one of the reasons why I wrote My God Box—to bring awareness to the plight of foster children—and to hopefully fix the shattered parts of a system in desperate need of repair.

How many kids in the U.S. are in foster care?

On any given day the statistics show over 500,000 children in the US in the foster care system. The number has reached an epidemic level which has burdened a system not built or equipped to handle the issues facing these children.

How long do they stay in foster care (on average)?

2.5 years is the average across the US - the federal government has asked the individual states to try and reach a permanency solution for these children within 9 months but unfortunately the system is not equipped to meet this goal.

Do they live with the same foster parents the entire time?

If they are lucky! I personally experienced over 15 different living environments and see the same movement between homes and shelters happening today.

You grew up in foster care - what was your experience like?

My experience was most of the foster parents were not equipped to handle a troubled child who needed help. I was in poverty struck homes as well as abusive homes within the foster care system and these are the homes I advocate against. Children removed from their abusive home environments should not be put into a system that is not providing them a better environment than the home they were removed from.

There are many wonderful foster parents who want to help children. But there are people who take in foster kids for the money - how can that be changed?

Not all but too many foster parents see their role as a job not wanting to get too attached to the child as it is a temporary situation thus making the child feel like a 2nd class citizen. The daily stipend a foster parent receives is not a lot of money but if you take in a few children it can be more than a welfare check.

Do you think there’s enough training for foster parents?

There is not an easy answer to this problem with continual budget cuts within the foster care system but there really can't ever be enough training to learn how to cope with a child who needs help. You can become a foster parent in many states with only a few days of training and a criminal background check. Foster parents need so much more to make them successful.

Is abuse a common problem in foster care?

It is too common and this is due to lack of resources and money to create a system that rewards foster parents based on outcomes versus number of children per day you take in. Local Department of Children and Families needs to be monitoring these children more effectively to eliminate the abuse taking place in these homes. It is not okay to have 1 child abused within the system and this issue needs to be addressed as a priority.

What are your long range goals?

My goal is to promote awareness of childhood abuse by using My God Box as a vehicle to become and advocate for children’s rights. I want to inform and encourage others to join with me to make a difference in the life of an innocent vulnerable child who needs to be protected and defended from society’s evils. I am planning speaking engagements/seminars which will help motivate people to start thinking about making changes in their lives and in the lives of others.

Thank you for allowing me to share my book and God’s mission for my life with you. If you would like to learn more about me and my mission please visit - http://www.margaretlano.com/ and http://www.angelsforfosterkids.org/ and know that 100% of the book proceeds goes to Angles for Foster Children. Please feel free to contact me at anytime.

Sepulcher Outrage -Kenneth Lloyd & John Mosqueda

2008-09-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

The Sepulcher Outrage

Kenneth Lloyd & John Mosqueda

ISBN# 978-1-60585-728-2

Publisher Primetime

Genre mystery, thriller

Published date September 1, 2008

Where it can be purchased www.primetimepublisher.com or amazon.com

Website www.primetimepublisher.com

"Da Vinci had no code, but the discovery of these bones could mean the end of historic, orthodox Christianity."

Chapter 72

“MARNEE, WOULD YOU NOTIFY all the major news organizations and tell them we have a very important announcement to make tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.? If you need me, I’ll be in the board room talking with the rest of the gang.”

Dr. Benjamin Grodin rose slowly from his desk and began massaging his furrowed brow. He walked in a methodical, pigeon-toed shuffle back to the board room, staring down at the floor. O’Malley’s story was spellbinding—and dumbfounding. Grodin couldn’t help but loudly blurt, “This all feels like the closing scenes of a John Wayne movie.”

How is this all going to play out? What am I going to say?
He was giving himself time to think as he ambled down the hall. Everyone was all waiting. Then he got to the door and opened it, and the room, which had been pulsating with loud banter, immediately became as silent as a cemetery at midnight. All eyes were on him.

Grodin stood tall, suddenly felt assured now. This sort of thing happened to him often. One minute he’d be pondering a serious problem or issue, troubled by the weight of it all. But then when it came time to talk about it with colleagues, he found himself rising fully to the occasion. His mind would become lucid and his thoughts would flow freely and orderly.

Sometimes he had the distinct feeling that he was not alone. It was almost supernatural.

He made eye contact with everyone in the room and then began: “I’ve just gotten off the phone with a medical doctor from London, a Terence O’Malley, who’s had a close relationship in the past with our two colleagues from Oxford, Holmes and Jude.”
Then he smiled. “Of course, I use the term ‘colleagues’ lightly. Anyway, why don’t you all get a cup of coffee, juice or soft drink and make yourselves comfortable. This may take a while.”

The members of the team got up, and the loud banter started up again. Absorbed with what he had to tell them, Dr. Grodin hardly noticed the dramatic change in the room’s atmosphere. He felt grieved about the turn of events of the last few days, and was embarrassed that the people who worked for him had fallen victim to deception and fraud while under his watch.

This organization, after all, was the Institute for Jewish Antiquities—a group that played a necessary role in affirming Israel’s history and sense of identity. And he was its director—a post that he had never taken for granted. Nor could he ever.
It had the foreboding, distressing feel of a bad dream. He felt it could be the end of his career since he was the one who made the decision to seek the expertise of Holmes and Jude. Crafty as they were, he now thought they had surely devised a way to have become part of the team analyzing the objects. They had found a way to paint themselves into the picture, one brush stroke at a time. It had been too coincidental, and sadly, he had been much too gullible.

As for tomorrow’s press conference, he still didn’t know exactly what he was going to say. He was hoping that today’s briefing would help him construct a viable and worthy statement.

Dr. Grodin waited ten more minutes to speak. Finally he made his way to the front again. The board members, excavation team and invited guests became acutely attentive as he began speaking.

“Before I start, does it seem cold in here or is it just me?” asked Dr. Grodin, looking over at the thermostat on the wall. When no one else complained, he continued, but strangely adjusted the left rear pocket of his pants.

“My dear colleagues, I’m embarrassed to report some information to you that will shed some light on the events of the past few days and weeks.

“Dr. O’Malley called me from London, and we spoke on the phone for close to an hour. In the course of the conversation, he related that he had been close friends with Holmes and Jude while attending Cambridge University about 50 years ago.

“They were all involved in some mysterious secret society whose members vowed never to reveal their activities. Apparently they were very much into their own cultic rituals, dating back hundreds of years, as well as devising diabolically sadistic ways to ‘make people worthy’ of acceptance into their secret society.

“Out of this aberrant mentality, fostered by unfortunate, abusive childhoods, these two men developed a plot to procure some bones from a 2,000- year-old graveyard belonging to the Jude family cemetery.

“They then set about concocting a scheme, a hoax. The origins of this fraud date back almost half a century. Their plan was to deposit phony artifacts and ecofacts under the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, during the extensive excavations and renovations undertaken in 1960.

“O’Malley was never a part of the hoax, but he was given the details in the fall of 1960 when the Cambridge pair returned to England to complete their undergraduate education.

“Apparently, Holmes and Jude, around January of 1960, answered an ad in the paper that sought archeologists who were interested in being part of the excavations. They were hired as foremen on the project that next summer.

“It was during this time, as they worked here in Jerusalem—at the very site where our team has labored—that they planted and buried the various items that we’ve uncovered and now have in our possession. This was an elaborately conceived and executed hoax.

“I’m so very sorry for having subjected you to this terrible waste of your valuable time. The obvious question at this point is: Where do we go from here? So let me open up the meeting to discussion or questions. This will give you a chance to provide input, and will help me formulate my statements for the press tomorrow.”
Father Zacardi spoke first. “In light of these new findings, it would seem at first glance that we no longer need to continue with the project. However, it is my recommendation as Director of the Technical Bureau to continue the present project as originally conceived by Dr. Grodin.

“Simply because a hoax was discovered does not mean that the project should cease. We may find additional evidences of fraud. We may also discover authentic finds—or nothing of value. Dr Grodin identified at least one tunnel that has yet to be explored. It’s much too early to make a definitive assessment.
“What if more objects are uncovered? I would think they’d have to be analyzed with the same care and professionalism that the team has applied to the project so far. So if the Institute is willing, I will submit my proposal to the Bureau’s Board. I see no reason why they would renege on our contract with the Institute. If the Board agrees, we could resume ‘business as usual’ in two days.”

Dr. Grodin asked, “Does anyone have any objection to continuing the project at the Church as previously planned?”

He waited a few seconds. There were no objections. “Are there any other questions or comments?”

Matt responded, “Are there any plans to pursue the two men who’ve caused this ruckus and have them prosecuted for their crimes?”

“That decision will be up to some agency of law,” his father replied. “Obviously, it would not be in our best interests as archeologists to try to find this pair and bring them to justice.”

Then he said, “We’d also have to consider the expense of a search. The Institute has already invested a tremendous amount of resources in the project, and I’m not really interested in spending more, but…”
He paused momentarily, massaging his forehead briskly. He looked as if he wanted to sit for a moment, but then he went on:

“I’m hoping the authorities will want to pursue the matter. Some may argue that there was no real harm done, but I would vehemently disagree. For one thing, their hoax probably precipitated the attempt on my life.

“There may be much more to that story that has not yet come to light. Therefore, I’m hoping that the Jerusalem Police Department and the Israeli government will conduct a world-wide search for these two and have them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law…” Then: “Are you sure no one else is cold?” He adjusted his pants again and glanced nervously, taking one step forward, and then stumbling momentarily as if groping for a chair, looking totally disoriented. Matt had never seen that blank expression on his father’s face. It was as if he was utterly lost and didn’t have the slightest idea what to do.

Suddenly the people in the room let out a gasp of horror as their leader toppled straight down to the floor like a stone-cold statue. He landed directly on his face with a bone-breaking crack. The sound was loud and surreal. The beloved archeologist had made no attempt whatsoever to brace his fall. Someone screamed, “Call the paramedics!!”

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Going Down South

2008-09-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

GOING DOWN SOUTH
Bonnie J. Glover

ISBN# 978-0-345-48091-0
Publisher One World/Ballantine Books
Genre General Fiction
Copyright 2008
Published date July 29, 2008
Where it can be purchased Random House, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Borders, Tower.com, etc. Available at all major outlets.
Website BonnieGlover.com

“Long live Olivia Jean, Daisy, and Birdie! These three daughters, mothers, and women are smart, feisty, and funny. Their stories will break your heart in the very best way. I absolutely loved Going Down South!”
—Carleen Brice, author of Orange Mint and Honey

Part One

Olivia Jean

Her father, Turk, went down first, holding his work boots by the strings with his overnight kit tucked under one arm. He walked on his toes, taking the seventh step down with a side maneuver because he knew it creaked. He had learned his lesson the hard way from her mother, Daisy, waiting at the top of the stairs one night about five years ago. His foot strayed and pressed ahead when he should have gone to the left or the right. He might have made it past her if it hadnt been for that step. She had dozed off, and there were ways to get around Daisy when she was asleep. But he was in no state to remember all of the things he should have remembered. And besides, Daisy was sitting with her legs flung across the top of the landing just so she could catch him. Clutched in her right hand was a broom leaning forward at a cockeyed slant, straw bottom down and ready to do damage.

That night in March, Olivia Jean had just passed her tenth birthday and should have been asleep when he touched lucky stair number seven and it whined loud enough to wake her mother. Daisy grunted, choking on a snore, and was on her feet lightning quick without even rubbing her eyes or wiping the thin line of drool at the corner of her mouth. She gripped the broom in both hands, turned it upside down, and swung it at Turks copper-skinned head. He leaned away in time but she started at him again. Her robe fell open, and Olivia Jean saw long, thick legs under a nightgown that stopped near her coochie, and then one of her titties fell out as she lifted her arm and aimed again. Olivia Jean was crouched at the keyhole of her bedroom door, jaw wide, the scene surprising her so much that she banged her head against the doorknob as she tried to get a better view.

Daisy kept swinging as if she were trying to get at a spider in the corner or a big, fat cockroach that always appeared out of nowhere when company came to visit. There was rage in her swinging, rage reserved for bugs, bad impressions, and drunken husbands. Then her other titty bounced free, and Turk fell back, clutching the railing. It seemed as though he was as surprised as Olivia Jean was. In all her days Olivia Jean had never seen Daisys girl parts, and seeing them then, when her mother was in the middle of trying to kill her daddy, was enough to freeze Olivia Jean right where she wason her knees, peeking into the dim hallway when she should have been curled up asleep with her Raggedy Ann tucked under her arm.

That was when Olivia Jean took a deep breath, stood up, opened the door, and ran out of her bedroom. Turk wasnt grabbing the broom or telling Daisy to stop or trying to move away or anything. He had leaned back, dropped his arms, and let Daisy continue to hit him with the broom across his shoulders, moving him backward as if she were going to push him down the stairs. Olivia Jean knew someone was going to call the police if they didnt stop. At four in the morning people should be in bed, going to bed, or at least thinking about going to bed, not on a rampage like Daisy was, beating Turk with the straw end of a broom while she danced around the hallway half-naked.

So when Daisy raised her broomstick higher, above her shoulders, aiming for the top of his head, Olivia Jean jumped in front of her father. No one moved. The only sound had been the swish of the broom as it waved through the air and its connection with Turks bodya muffled whack, whack, whackand, too, the sound of Daisys heavy breathing from all the work she was doing beating Turk.

Now things were still except for Daisys heaving shoulders and breasts. Olivia Jean felt her heart pounding so hard that she thought it might thud out of her chest.

Then Daisy smiledone of those low-down smiles she used when she punished Olivia Jeanaimed the broom, and almost hit her daughter; the straw brushed the air, tickling the end of Olivia Jeans nose. Olivia Jean had felt the panic rising in the pit of her stomach as the broom swept toward her. Daisy laughed when Olivia Jean flinched. Daisys breathing was hard, and Olivia Jean smelled the last cigarette Daisy had smoked and the Ponds face cream her mother rubbed into her elbows every night. She dropped the broom as Olivia Jean tried to shield Turk, her arms thrown out so that she covered a fraction of his belly. Daisy was giving him the evil eye the whole time, but he was busy ducking behind Olivia Jean as though Daisy were still hitting him, his hands in the air trying to block the broom she was no longer swinging at him. He didnt know Daisy had stopped. All of his moving almost made Olivia Jean fall off the landing; his daughter had to plant herself in front of him, solidly, and not move. Olivia Jean was close enough to smell his body, which reeked of underarm musk and day-old pee. She wrinkled her nose and tried not breathing for seconds at a time.

Olivia Jean moved away once the broom rested at Daisys side. But she stayed near, trying not to glance at her mothers face, since it was frightening when the older woman tightened her lips, raised her eyebrows, and sucked in her cheeks. Olivia Jean was scared of what would come next, but she wasnt going to let Turk stand up to Daisy all by himself. He was her daddy, and even if Daisy did turn the broom on her, Olivia Jean was determined to take the beating. At ten years old, she loved Turk Stone with every ounce of heart she had in her thin body. And hated her mother with equal passion.

Daisy moved in close to Turk. She pointed a long finger at his chest. He had stopped twitching, but the eye he was able to keep open was streaked with red and the other was half-closed. He fell back against the wall.

Damn, girl, stop slingin them things around. I cant think straight watchin em titties jumpin at me all over the place. Close your robe, Turk said.

Turk, I aint playing with you, coming up in this house all hours of the night. You better stop this tomcatting around or Ima stop you. Her voice never rose. It whispered slick across the hallway. The righteousness of it made Olivia Jean tremble. Daisy turned with the broom and swished back into the apartment. The girl heard the dead bolt turn with a sharp click, and then Turk and Olivia Jean were alone in the hallway.

Dont worry, baby, he said as he sank to the floor on the second step. Olivia Jean sat down by him. He laid his head on her lap. Again she held her breath, because he smelled. As soon as he fell asleep, so that his head became heavy on her lap and his mouth opened with one long inhale that became a gasp for air, he woke himself up. She aint gonna stay mad. She let us in by day. Olivia Jean counted to 3,563 before the door opened.

Now Daisy was in flannel pajamas buttoned up to the top.

Next time, dont get in the middle of grown-folk business. Daisy didnt meet Olivia Jeans gaze. She held a half-smoked cigarette in one hand along with her favorite ashtray, the one she swore was good crystal given to them by a Mr. Shorty Long when she and Turk married. This was the same ashtray she would sometimes throw at him when he came home from work too late.

This ashtray, Daisy would say after each bout of throwing it at Turk, is a testament to good, quality workmanship. The kind you dont get these days. There were dents in the wall and chipped linoleum on the floor from where Mr. Shorty Longs present had landed, but never even a hairline fracture in the crystal itself. Olivia Jean didnt know if it was a testament to good workmanship or just plain dumb luck that nothing had happened to it. She did know enough to stay out of the way when Daisy aimed at Turk, since Daisy didnt have a good aim.

Holding the ashtray in one hand and the cigarette in the other, she twisted a thumb in Olivia Jeans direction, her signal for Olivia Jean to hit the road, go to bed. It wasnt easy moving Turks head from her lap. Daisy didnt help, but Olivia Jean didnt expect help from her.

When the girl crept out of bed the next morning and peeped in the stairwell, Turk was still there, a blanket thrown over him, now using Daisy for a pillow. Olivia went back into her bedroom, slammed the door, and got ready for school.

That night in late August as they slipped out of their apartment and down the stairs, Daisy made Turk carry his shoes so his footsteps were barely heard, but there were other noises coming from his body. Because he was so big and uncoordinated, when he walked down the stairs his shoulders bumped against the wall, and his breathing was loud, like a fish gasping for air.

Olivia followed him with her traveling bag, but not too close. She owned one suitcase, a pink one with a poodle on the front that had real hair and two glued-on pink barrettes. The suitcase kept bumping her legs as she walked down the narrow flight of stairs.

Daisy shored up the rear, and every few steps she told the other two to hush up as though Turk, a grown man, and Olivia Jean, a teenager, were children on a field trip. Daisy was dressed especially for sneaking out of their apartment; she wore a tan A-line dress cinched at the waist with a wide belt, a camel- colored scarf over her head, and big rhinestone-studded sunglasses. In the middle of the night. Olivia Jean wanted to ask about the sunglasses, but she already knew what her mother would say: Olivia Jean, the first thing people notice about you is your clothes. Youve got to learn how to make a good impression.

--------------------------------------------

Excerpted from Going Down South by Bonnie J. Glover
Copyright © 2008 by Bonnie Glover. Excerpted by permission of One World/Ballantine,
a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt
may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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What's Happening At SORMAG

2008-09-10T08:09:00.000-07:00

Check out our newsletter for September

COMING SOON: AUGUST

2008-05-28T08:12:00.001-07:00

Pre-Katrina New Orleans: In FATE, you met Vanessa Lewis, a young woman destined to fall in love with Scott, a man so different, yet so perfect for her.
CHANCES, continues this family's story with Vanessa's no nonsense sister Monica. After losing the man of her life she was determined to bestow her love and attention on her children. Until her new neighbor became an honorary member of the family. Everybody loved Devin. Could she?

MISCONCEPTIONS, brings the family together to support Daniel and Cassie as they fight a persistent thorn in everyone’s side.

IRONIC brings them all together once again as the family’s nemesis unexpectedly falls for a member of this strong family united in love.

Post-Katrina New Orleans : In STORM experience the aftermath of the worst natural disaster to hit the Gulf Coast through the eyes of the Lewis’s as Sabrina Adams and Josh Lewis find and preserve love in the midst of devastation.

STORM
An Excerpt
by Pamela Leigh Starr

Saturated With Katrina

Everywhere I go,

Someone’s life is on the sidewalk

My face curls up,

A flimsy attempt

To prevent

The stench from entering my nostrils

The speech in my periphery

Of losses, lies, dreams halted

In their tracks

Causes my ears to vibrate

A sadness that plunges into my spirit like a torrent wave

My town! My Town! My Town!

My People! My People! My People!

My mouth curls up

My fingertips warm, in the sweet grip of reunion

By Angela Foy Thomas
My sister and ONE of MANY Hurricane Katrina victims still rising

Chapter 1

It was no use.

It was dying.

Dreading the only decision left to her, Sabrina Adams guided the car to the shoulder of the road, moving faster in her sputtering twelve-year old Corolla than the stalled traffic she’d sat in for the last ten hours. The narrow shoulder was not quite wide enough to accommodate her compact-sized car. Coming to a complete stop partway on the shoulder and partway the grassy field running parallel Sabrina threw her car into park, shut the engine off and stared out the windshield as the radiator released its last, fiery breath with a tremendous puff of smoke.
She had been warned that the radiator was on its last leg and that her Band-aid approach of periodically adding water would one day fail. The radiator needed to be replaced and she had planned on getting it done one day last next.

Which was exactly what she had said the week before. And she had meant it, had even put money aside for that exact purpose, but a more pressing matter had derailed her.
Sabrina got out of the car and stared at the bumper to bumper traffic stretching as far as se could see. Thousands were fleeing New Orleans, heading for higher ground.
A hurricane was headed toward New Orleans again, like the year before with Hurricane Ivan, it was a snail-moving-through-molasses evacuation, nevertheless, people were taking the threat of Hurricane Katrina seriously.
Despite the inconvenience…
Despite the traffic…
Despite last year’s memory of a fifteen to twenty hour drive that would normally take no longer than two to five hours…
Katrina could be the one the entire population of New Orleans had been warned about for as long as she could remember, all her life probably. “New Orleans is a bowl,” she had heard over and over again. With Lake Ponchartrain to the north of the city and the Mississippi River running through it, if the city got a direct hit there would be no place for the water from the storm surge to go. It was a bit hard to imagine, but who would dare to be stuck in such a situation?
Not her.
Which was why, having a car, slightly handicapped as it was, she was evacuating. A little late but that couldn’t be helped. A steady, constant breeze washed over her, a heavy scent of rain in the air. She needed to find some shelter. According to the radio report the storm would be making landfall in a matter of hours. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket she dialed her uncle’s house for the twenty-fifth time. Her grandmother was safe. She had already been picked up, transported and made comfortable by her uncle who lived in Lafayette, Louisiana, about one hundred forty miles from New Orleans, and where she had been headed there herself. That is, until she found herself in the wrong lane for the contra-flow designed to help relieve traffic. It had steered her northeast toward Hammond and no one, instead of northwest toward Lafayette and family. If she didn’t show up, her grandmother would worry and wouldn’t sleep, which would keep her Uncle Darren from sleeping. He needed to sleep, because storm or storm, he had to go to work the next morning. Uncle Darren was one of Lafayette Police Department’s finest. He would be preoccupied with dealing with the influx of people evacuating from New Orleans. There would be thousands of people simply coming through or looking for a safe place to stay for a while. Sabrina knew from Uncle Darren’s muttered complaints during and just after last year’s mandatory evacuation, that dealing with the effects of such a large mass exodus, for even a brief period of time, stretched the resources of all nearby cities and towns.
“Can I help you ma’am?” A young state trooper mercifully interrupted her rampaging thoughts.
Turning to fully face the officer, Sabrina snapped her cell shut to the recording she had heard over and over again, informing her that she, along with and because of thousands of other customers who were calling their loved ones, could not get through to the party dialed and should try again at a later time.
But voila’, she had the next best thing: a handsome state trooper, well, not exactly handsome, but definitely cute, but nowhere near as cute as John, especially when he—
“Ma’am, can I assist you?”
Pulling in her wayward thoughts, which always ran wild when she was nervous, Sabrina smiled and nodded at the cute trooper who could never compare to John, but who could direct her to the nearest police station or shelter where she could use a phone.
“Your car?
“It died.”
“So I noticed.”
“It’s the radiator.”
The trooper nodded. “Can I give you a lift, get you out of harm’s way? The highway is closing as soon as the traffic dies.”
“I know. I just made it out a couple of hours before the highways closed in New Orleans.”
He nodded again impatiently. He probably thought she was nuts standing in the middle of nowhere conversing on the topic of road closures when she should be jumping at the chance for help. The leery look that crept onto his face confirmed it. But Sabrina wasn’t nuts, just worried about her grandmother. She had had a heart attack a few months ago and though mild, the possibility of losing her had scared Sabrina enough to keep her at her grandmother’s side until two days ago. At that time she had had no idea that Hurricane Katrina would decide to make her way to New Orleans. The hurricane had been heading to Florida as most of them did. And the only thing that had torn Sabrina away from her grandmother’s side was the old woman’s insistence that Sabrina celebrate her twenty-first birthday. Which was what she had been doing with her best friend Kara. Celebrating her adulthood and her decision to tell John Lewis exactly how she felt about him. That of course turned out to be a disaster. She had been so wrapped up in said disaster and Kara was so knocked out from too lack of sleep due to Sabrina rehashing her most recent embarrassing encounter with John that Sabrina had not noticed the increasing amount of traffic leaving New Orleans as they headed back to the city. It wasn’t until Sabrina pulled into the driveway of her friend’s home to find, Kara’s sister storming down the steps, her arms overflowing with luggage. She informed that there was a mandatory evacuation and that Kara had better pack and be ready to leave in the next half hour. That was the first inkling Sabrina had gotten that Hurricane Katrina was headed their way. prompting her to race home, gather Grammy and a few basic needs to begin their own evacuation, only to find a curt note from Uncle Darren telling her that he had collected Grammy that she should “--call and get your butt to Lafayette ASAP!”
The cutie interrupted her thoughts once again. “Can I escort you to a shelter? I have a few other motorists in your predicament.”
“Yes, of course, I’d appreciate that.”
Sabrina followed the trooper to a police van, nodding to the handful of passengers as she took a seat. Instead of pulling into the congested highway, the van moved across the field and onto a small dirt road. Sabrina tried to relax against the warm vinyl, assuming that this was some sort of shortcut.
“All this traffic and bother for nothing,” a nasty voice said behind her. “Watch, we’ll all be back in a day or two, three at the most, having evacuated for no good reason. The hurricanes always miss us. Watch and see.”
Sabrina turned to see a middle-aged balding man with a huge belly taking up most of the seat behind her.
“If it wasn’t for you I’d be in my own house relaxing with a couple of beers,” he told a scrawny blonde women sitting on what was left of the seat. The woman ignored the grouchy man and Sabrina’s look of sympathy, staring straight ahead.
“The traffic and the situation have made us all irritated,” the trooper was saying, “but in the long run you’ll be glad you listened to the authorities and evacuated.”
“I doubt it,” the man grumbled before falling silent.
Turning away from the disgruntled passenger, Sabrina noticed a frail, elderly man sitting next to a middle-aged one who could be nothing other than his son. She remembered seeing them on the highway a few miles back. The sweltering heat of August in southern Louisiana had looked as if it was draining every bit of energy from them as they sat in the barely moving traffic with windows rolled down. Sabrina understood their predicament. Her air conditioning barely functioned, blowing only semi-cool air, but at least she had that much. And she was young to boot. She smiled at them. They mustered a smile of recognition and a quiet hello.
The sight of them brought her grandmother to the forefront of her mind again. Trying to clear her head of worry, Sabrina allowed herself to relive part of her birthday adventure, only the good part. After all, it was because of her adventure that her uncle had had to travel to New Orleans to take her grandmother to safety. Because of her adventure, she had left the city just before the highways were closed and long after her grandmother. And it was because of her adventure that she had embarrassed herself more than she had ever done in her life, a major feat in and of itself.
“John.” She sighed his name, wallowing in her infatuation. No, not infatuation. Her grandmother thought it was infatuation, and maybe at one time it had been. As a teenager she had sighed and mooned over John Lewis and his identical twin brother Josh every time she saw them and every hour in between. But then, one day she’d found herself mooning over John and only John. He was somehow the more handsome of the two, even taking into consideration the identical twin thing. John was the one she had fallen in love with.
John, so sweet and talented and probably still completely mortified and mad as hell that I made a pass at him, Sabrina pressed her face into her palms. She lifted her eyes a moment later to stare at the lights of a three-story building that looked like a school, situated on the side of the dark highway. A lone figure was walking toward the building, carrying what looked to be an instrument case. The deceptively slight build, the straight, confident walk… It couldn’t be him. But as they drove closer Sabrina had no doubt that it was.
It made perfect sense. They had both left from the casino hotel where he had played a gig with his jazz band. John had been loading his car when she and Kara had pulled off. Of course she had avoided him. She couldn’t avoid him now. John was walking toward the same shelter where she would probably be spending the next two or three days if the grouchy guy’s prediction was right.
Sabrina’s heart beat double-time.
She’d get to see him again.
But she didn’t want to see him.
She’d feel awkward, but what was new about that?
But then, he’d feel awkward.
Now, that would be new.
Before she could decide how she would deal with the awkwardness that they
were both bound to feel, the other passengers were getting out of the van.
Sabrina hopped out behind them, turning in the direction she had seen John walking. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves.
“Woman, just what did you pack in this big old suitcase. Don’t you know we’ll be back in the city as soon as this thing passes?” the loud, rude man yelled at his wife as he hefted the suitcase out of the rear of the van.
“Pictures, important papers and some personal things—”
“I don’t know why you packed all that,” the man went on as Sabrina turned to catch up to the state trooper.
She reached a hand to his shoulder to get his attention. “I forgot my suitcase in my car. “Can we go back?”
“Sorry, ma’am,” he turned to say, laying a hand on her shoulder when disappointment took over her face. “It’s after midnight and not safe to be out. Perhaps tomorrow, after the storm has passed.”
At that moment Sabrina felt John behind her, his eyes boring into her back. “Shooting for more attention, Pest?” he paused to say before continuing toward the shelter.
No-he-didn’t! Sabrina’s worry about any potential awkwardness dispelled with his words. Her eyes locked onto the firm behind and broad shoulders of the man walking away from her as if he barely knew her, as if he’d never kissed her, as if she had never thrown herself into his arms, pressing her body against his hard chest, savoring the heat and scent of him while her mouth had its way with him. Well, exactly who did Mr. John Lewis think he was! Implying that she was after this cute trooper, who still had a hand on her shoulder. A warm hand that didn’t pull the least bit of yearning or excitement through her the way a simple glance from John created overpowering feelings of longing and a heart-pounding thrill at being near him.
“I’ll see what I can do about your bag tomorrow, ma’am,” the trooper said before heading back to the van.
Life would be so much easier if she could do something as simple as fall for a guy like the trooper. But no, she was destined to find herself panting for Mr. Nose-Up-in-the-Air Lewis.
Panting.
Yes, girl, that’s what you’ve been doing, but not any more. Gusts of wind pushed her toward the shelter doors the name above them confirming that the shelter was indeed a school.
You’re twenty-one now, not a silly teenager. Act like an adult! She had gone to Mississippi for the purpose of watching John play in a band at one of the casinos. And most importantly, to tell him how she felt about him. Which had pretty much amounted to throwing herself at him, only to be tossed aside.
Gently, but firmly tossed aside.
Sabrina grimaced as she remembered exactly how firmly she’d been tossed aside. Entering the well lit foyer of the school-turned-shelter, she walked down a hall toward the sound of people. In a large gymnasium where of people clustered in small family groups. Sabrina made her way across the crowed floor, finding a small entrance to the stands of the middle school gym that were sparsely occupied. Spotting the elderly man and his son across the gym Sabrina changed directions and walked over toward them.
“Are you two okay? Can I get you anything?”
“What a nice girl,” the old man said barely, making it into the folding lounge chair with the help of his son.
“That’s nice of you,” the son said, “but I’m sure you have things you need to do. The director just warned us that the lights would be turned off soon.”
“I’ve just got me to take care of,” Sabrina told the man, her heart going out to him. “Just tell me, is there anything I can get for you before I settle in?”
“Some water would be nice,” the old man said. “I can’t seem to get that parched feel out of my throat after staying in the hot car all day.”
“Water coming up!” Sabrina dashed away in search of water, wishing that she had remembered her bag.
She’d had a twelve- pack of water and a ton of snacks and fruit. Before she could make it too far, the lights flashed on and off and she heard an announcement. “Second notice. Lights out, ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes. Remember, we’re safe from the storm. Tomorrow will be a new day. We again apologize for the lack of supplies. The Red Cross will be sending in cots and blankets as soon as they can.”
People moved about restlessly, settling down for the night. The tension in the air was tinged with the hope that the woman who had made the announcement was right about them being safe. Sabrina glanced over at the younger man, an apology in her eyes as she wondered if she had enough time to catch the woman who was heading down the hall.
“Here you go,” John said, slapping a bottle of water into her palms. “You better find a place for yourself before the lights go out. You might end up stepping on somebody, maybe even accidentally cuddling up to someone you don’t know.”
Before she could respond, he had moved into the bleachers directly above the old man and his son. Sabrina handed the water to the man’s son and turned to pick her way across the gym floor, making it into the bleachers on the opposite side just as the lights were flashing for the last time. She stared across the gym at John. He’d stretched his long body across one of the bleacher rows using his backpack as a pillow. He wore a hard piercing look as the lights went out for the night.
Tired, achy, and disgusted with herself, Sabrina sat Indian style, her back against the row behind her. This was as comfortable as she was going to get. Her suitcase would have made a wonderful pillow and the blanket she usually kept in the trunk of her car would have added a bit of softness to the hard wooden bleachers, as well as providing a decent layer of protection from whatever might have been left on the surface from the many fans who had sat here.
“Oh well, there are worse things in life,” she sighed, knowing that sleeping on the bleachers in a shelter was better than being stranded on a dark highway in the middle of a hurricane. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone once again. When she tried to call her uncle’s house, she received the same recorded message indicating that the call could not go through. Feeling frustrated and helpless, Sabrina flipped the phone shut but kept the power on. She slipped it back into the pocket of her pants in case her uncle or grandmother tried to call.
Leaning away from the light that filtered in from the foyer, Sabrina didn’t expect to sleep. The threat of rain and tropical force winds, even a few hundred miles inland from where the hurricane would make landfall was very real. Despite her worry for her grandmother, and the storm, however, she eventually fell asleep, knowing that even though John had been rude he would make it up to her. He always did. It was because he loved her too. He just didn’t realize it yet.
***
In the soft light easing into the gym John watched her.
And he noticed.
He noticed her shapely form, though it was a mere outline in the diminished light. He heard a deep sigh from across the gym or maybe he had imagined he had heard it because he could see the way her rounded breast moved with each deep, long breath. Sabrina seemed almost a part of him.
John shook his head!
Rounded breast.
Deep breath.
A part of him?
This was wrong!
All wrong.
He couldn’t think of Sabrina like that, not like a women. She was “the pest.” The little
girl who at one time was the next door neighbor and sometimes babysitter for his sister Ness (short for Vanessa).
But it was too late now. He’d noticed her. She was a woman and she was interested in him. From the way she’d pressed herself against him the night before, he had no doubt about that. This was all so very wrong. He didn’t have time for a woman in his life. His career was just taking off. He had landed a temporary spot in a well-known brass jazz band because their trumpet player got busted for drinking and driving and then held for the many parking and speeding tickets in his name. The player’s tough break had been a good one for John.
He had tried to let Sabrina down without hurting her feelings. She needed to understand that he wasn’t interested in her that way. But now he was coming to understand that he was interested in her that way. But he didn’t want to be, which was why he had been so nasty to her earlier today. That, and the fact that he had been jealous of that trooper, who’d had the nerve to put a hand on her.
His eyes having fully adjusted to the sparse light in the gym, John couldn’t keep them off Sabrina as he puzzled over his new feelings for her. Staring at her, he finally noticed a few other important things. She didn’t have a thing with her. No blanket, no suitcase, no pillow. Her head lay across one long outstretched arm. She seemed to be sleeping but how that was possible he didn’t know. He couldn’t leave her to sleep in such an uncomfortable position all night long just because he was leery of how she was making him feel. Ness would never forgive him, he told himself, using that excuse to justify the decision he had already made.
John scanned the gym floor, trying to gauge the best way to get to her. The floor was literally littered with sleeping bodies exhausted from the long hours spend on the congested highway. So, going across the gym floor was out. He’d have ended up waking half the people down there. His only other option was to stay in the stands and make his way around to the other side. He would have to make the journey without much light because the far end of the gym was pitch black.
His instrument case in hand and a small backpack on his shoulder, he slowly made his way across to the rounded end of the gym, banging his shins a time or two, hoping he was able to avoid encounters of the sticky kind. Coming around to the side of the stands where Sabrina had settled, John kept his eye on her sleeping form as he got closer and closer, refusing to consider that his decision to make her more comfortable was anything more than an act of kindness from one friend to another.
John stopped a few feet away, taking in the sight of her. She had a dancer’s body, which made sense. She was a dancer and at one time had been a gymnast. He remembered her trying to impress him by bragging about her skills. He also remembered her wearing braces and worrying about breaking out if she ate too much chocolate. The memories of a younger Sabrina were all overridden by the sight of her shapely form perfectly accented in a tank top that hugged her breasts and ended just above the waist of the white Capri pants she wore in deference to the hot August heat. Thankfully, the shelter had an efficient air condition system that gave them all a bit a relief. Wondering if the air was too cool for the tank top she wore, he placed a hand on her shoulder. That was a mistake. She was warm. The soft smoothness of her skin was a contradiction to the firm muscle beneath his hand, gained from her active profession as a dance teacher. Despite the warmth he felt, she shivered beneath his touch. Pulling his hand back, John stared at it as if to extinguish the tingling sensation simply touching her had left behind.
Placing his trumpet case next to her, he eased the backpack off his shoulders and found one of his cotton button-down shirts. It was the closest thing he had to a blanket. Sitting on the row behind her, trying not to think about how close his hands were to the rounded breasts that were now up close and personal, he laid his palms under her arms and carefully lifted her into a sitting position, gently easing her upward until her head and arm rested on his upper thigh. Too late he realized what a mistake that was. Shrugging his shoulders, John was suddenly too tired to do anything about it. The gig, Sabrina throwing herself at him, the sudden mandatory evacuation that he hadn’t known about until he was on his way back home, running out of gas and walking a mile to get to this shelter before the storm hit, all the events of the last twenty-four hours had taken their toll.
Using his backpack as a pillow John drifted to sleep, knowing he had to find a way to deal with Sabrina.

EXCERPT: Release Me

2008-05-19T06:00:00.000-07:00

RELEASE ME
By
Farrah Rochon

CHAPTER ONE

Fake right.

Dribble left.
The ball left his hand headed in a graceful arc towards the net.
Swoosh!
Sinking the game-winning shot in the championship game was the only feeling that could compare to the rush that zipped through Tobias Holmes' veins as the crowd rose to its feet. The cacophony of applause, foot stomping, and catcalls played like a raucous melody in his brain, stoking the excitement already roaring through his body like an uncontrollable forest fire.
Toby joined in the ovation, placing his index and middle fingers in his mouth and releasing a high-pitched whistle.

Aria Jordan, the hidden talent he’d stumbled upon only a few months into his new career as a record producer, received the accolade with humility and grace, as she always did after performing. Toby still was not sure if the innocent, almost timid acceptance of her rising fame was an act or not, but he wanted her to stick with it. It was a nice touch. The crowd seemed to cheer even more every time that bashful blush rose to Aria’s cheeks.

Their applause continued, making him as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. Others on the club scene talked about how tough it was to win over the crowd at the popular nightclub, The Hot Spot, saying it should be called The Cold Spot instead, to reflect the supposedly frigid response the audience bestowed to newcomers. The atmosphere was not cold tonight. The place was practically on fire.

Toby ushered pass the horde of club-goers making their way to the bar and restrooms during the short intermission. He intercepted Aria as she descended the short staircase behind the stage.

“You kicked butt up there,” he greeted her.
A shy smile broke out on her face. “You really think they liked me?”

“Think? Didn’t you hear that a minute ago? They were shouting for more. If I were tonight’s headliner I’d be afraid to come out on stage.”

“Thank you, Toby.” Aria crushed herself to his chest, practically knocking the air from his lungs.

“Whoa,” Toby chuckled, bracing himself after nearly losing his balance from the force of her hug.

“Come on. I don’t want anyone to take my table,” he said, unfolding Aria’s arms from around his waist.

Ever since his older brother, Eli, had questioned his relationship with Aria, Toby had been cautious of rumors concerning him and his client. He was determined that people see him as a professional, and knew better than to start something with one of the performers he managed. Besides, Aria wasn’t really his type.

He was still trying to figure out what exactly was his type. None of the women he’d dated over the past couple years appealed to him enough to consider developing anything serious. Then again, he wasn't looking to start a serious relationship. He needed to focus on his new career.
He guided Aria back to the prime table he’d secured.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Toby said, after settling her at the table. He headed toward the chrome-lined bar that spanned the entire right side of the club. “Can I get a Bud Light and a Strawberry Daiquiri?” he asked the bartender.

“Tobias Holmes?”

Toby turned. An older man, almost equal to his own impressive 6’ 9” height, stood not even a foot behind him. It was hard to keep much of a distance in the packed club.

“Do I know you?” Toby asked.

“Not yet.” The man extended his hand. “Marshall Kellerman.”
Where had he heard that name before?

“I represent Over the Edge Productions,” the man continued.

Ah, that was it. The television production company.
Production company?

Toby’s antennae perked up like a foraging ant’s. He clasped the man’s outstretched hand. “Hello, Mr. Kellerman. What can I do for you?”

“Actually, I want to talk about what I can do for you. And call me Marshall.”

The bartender delivered his drinks. Toby paid for them and picked both up from the bar. He turned back around and said, “Okay, Marshall, what can you do for me?”

“I hear you represent that amazing talent that just captivated everyone in this club a minute ago.”

“I'm her manager." And producer. And songwriter. And the only person she knows in the city.

The smile that drew across Kellerman's face was wide enough to park an Oldsmobile inside of it. That feeling of excited anticipation that used to come over Toby before the start of a basketball game skirted down his spine. It had been a long time since he'd felt the sensation. And, man, did it feel good.

Marshall Kellerman wrapped his arm around Toby’s shoulder. “Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We definitely need to talk.”

Toby returned his smile. “Call me Toby.”
###

“Mom, where are the silk scarves you ordered last week?” Sienna Culpepper asked as she straightened a faux pearl necklace in the glass étagère filled with expensive costume jewelry.

“I’m still waiting on the order.”

"Do you want me to call the company? The Southern Christian Women Leadership Convention starts next week. You'll need to stock items that are going to appeal to them,” she reminded her mother.

"I know how to run my own store, Sienna," came her mother's reply. "I've been doing it successfully for the past twenty years."

Sienna willed the impending headache to take a backseat. It was far too early in the morning to start popping ibuprofen. "I was only offering to help, Mother."

"Since when have I needed your help?" Sylvia Culpepper asked as she rounded the étagère, a collection of earrings hanging from a mahogany and cream velvet display shelf in hand.
Why did she even bother? Sienna asked herself for the four hundred thousandth time. This sadomasochistic ritual of helping out at her mother's French Quarter antique and high-end gift shop had occupied practically every Saturday morning since she was eight-years-old, and she had never receive as much as a simple thank you. She felt more like a bother than the asset she knew she was to her mother's business, yet Sienna found herself coming back every weekend. Even negative attention was better than none at all.

Preparing for an argument, Sienna broached the subject she had been thinking about all morning. “Mom, have you given anymore thought to the advertising ideas I mentioned?”
Silence.

"Mother, did you hear me?"

"You're standing right next to me. I'm not deaf."

The headache was coming on despite her best intentions to curb it. She sprayed glass cleaner on the inside of the étagère's glass door and wiped it off with a lent-free towel.

"So, have you thought about it?" Sienna asked. "You could do so much more business if you put a little more effort into getting the name out. A few ads on the St. Charles Streetcar Line and you can double the foot traffic in here.”

“My business is still open, isn’t it? You girls never went hungry. And you? You didn’t have to pay a single penny for that fancy education that you're wasting. I’ve never had to advertise before, and I don’t have to do it now, especially not on a gaudy streetcar sign."

"It is not gaudy, it's smart business. Some of the top restaurants in this city advertise that way."

"Do not stand in my establishment and tell me how to run it, Sienna Elaine! What do you know about any of this anyway?”

"Oh, I’ve only spent the last six years studying this very thing while getting my fancy education".

Sienna couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Most parents would be overwhelmed with pride if their child attained a graduate degree--with honors, at that--and landed a good job by the age of twenty-eight. Not her mother. It had taken her too long to finish school, even though she'd held a fulltime job while attending one of the most prestigious historically Black colleges in the country. Being picked out of a pool of over two hundred candidates for the only junior associate position offered with the leading marketing firm in New Orleans was only mediocre in her mother's eyes, as well. Accomplishing her careers goals meant nothing if she were still unmarried and not producing grandchildren her mother could brag about to her friends.

Sienna had resigned herself to the fact that she would never be good enough. No matter how hard she worked, or what she accomplished, her mother would always find her lacking.
And just how long will the pity-party last today?

God knows she could stand here berating herself well into next week if she didn’t get a handle on it. Sienna retrieved a pink and white feather duster from the janitorial closet and went over to the shelf that held an array of African sculptures.

“Are you going to the Holmes’ today?” her mother asked after several long, uncomfortable minutes. “Margo invited us to a little get-together they’re having for Alex’s baby. She graduated from kindergarten.”

Little get-together? Sienna knew the Holmes family well enough to know nothing they did was ever little, especially where the only grandchild, Jasmine, was concerned. Sienna expected nothing short of a full-blown carnival, complete with dancing bears and a fire-eating lion tamer.

“I guess I can stop by," she answered her mother.

“Good," Sylvia said. "Somebody needs to represent the family. I don’t even know where Ivana is these days, and Tosha’s busy packing up for her move back to Atlanta. Besides, she doesn’t need that anyway.”

Sienna agreed. Tosha should stay far away from the Holmes family, especially the middle son, Elijah. Seeing your ex-fiancé madly in love with another woman could not be an easy thing to witness. Even though what they had shared had been over for more than fifteen years, Sienna knew her sister, and Tosha had a big heart. It was easily broken. They were definitely alike in that regard.

Let it go. The pity-party ended five minutes ago.

“After I finish up here I’ll go home and change, then I can head Uptown to the Holmes’s."

"What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?" her mother asked.

"I plan on just relaxing a bit if I can get the work I brought home with me this weekend completed after I get back from Margo's."

Her mother turned, her eyes holding the stare that dared its recipient to refuse whatever she was about to ask. "Millicent Perkins has Sunday Tea at her home. I want you to come along."
Sienna paused, the feather duster hovering over a carved father and son statuette. A chill traveled down her spine at the thought of Millicent Perkins and the world she represented. The pomp and circumstance of New Orleans' high society, with its teas and debutant balls, had been a part of her life she'd vowed never to return to for reasons she could never bring herself to voice out loud. Sienna's eyes shut tight as she attempted to bite back the memories that begged to surface, memories she had buried in her subconscious. She clamped down on the bile that threatened to rise at the thought of that horrible night nearly eleven years ago.

"You know," her mother's voice propelled Sienna to the present. "Millicent's youngest daughter, Danielle, is expecting her second baby," her mother said.

"I'm surprised her husband stopped beating her long enough for her to even get pregnant," Sienna muttered under her breath. "Really?" she said loud enough for her mother to hear.

"That's three babies in just over three years, isn't it?"

"Um hmm. I also heard Aldonia Lewis' daughter did such a good job planning her wedding that she decided to start her own wedding consulting business. She isn't anyone's assistant."

"I'm not an assistant, mother," Sienna ground between clenched teeth. "I'm a junior executive. If you cared enough to pay attention to anything I told you, you'd know there is a difference."

"Well, Aldonia's daughter owns her business.”

"Ivana’s business is very successful, or have you forgotten that you have a daughter with her own business only steps away from this store."

Her mother pierced her with another of her infamous looks, turning her nose high enough in the air to smell the exhaust fumes of the airplane flying overhead.

"You need to get over to the Holmes's," Sylvia said with cold finality, grabbing the duster from Sienna's hand.

Sienna stepped away from the display, questioning yet again why she put herself through this torture on a regular basis. She never asked, nor expected, monetary compensation, but a little appreciation wouldn’t hurt.

She looked over at her mother, who kept her back rigid.

Appreciation? Right. She was not holding her breath.

But she wasn't giving up, either. Her grandmother had always told her family was the most important thing. Her mother and sisters were all the family she had and Sienna still held out hope that she and her mother would eventually have the mother and daughter relationship she had always dreamed of. There had to be something she could do to finally make her mother proud.

She knew one way she could start.

Sienna brought her hand up and kneaded the spot between her eyes; her hand shaking as the implications of what she was about to agree to began to sink in.

Her hand on the faux crystal door handle, she said," I'll see you tomorrow at Mrs. Perkin's tea."

COMING SOON

2008-04-22T21:47:00.000-07:00

Divorcing the Devil
by Dwan Abrams

Urban Books (April 29, 2008)

ISBN-10: 1601629605
ISBN-13: 978-1601629609

For Skyler Little, it's not easy being a psychoanalyst and a Christian. Sometimes it's hard not getting drawn into her patients' personal lives filled with adultery, abuse and turmoil. Yet, she remains steadfast in providing them with the best in Christian counseling. She even counsels her friend, Gabriella, who has just learned that her husband is cheating on her.

But when Skyler learns whom Gabriella's husband is cheating on her with, things start to spiral out of control, and she is now caught in the middle. Can Skyler get herself out of this situation, or can anyone be spared when you try to divorce the devil?

BOOK INTRO: Choices

2008-04-21T21:41:00.000-07:00

CHOICES

Making choices had come easily for Lara Boyd, until an unlikely ultimatum from her fiancé changed everything.

Six years later, the kindergarten teacher is heartbroken, love-leery, and certain her dreams for husband and family will remain just that. But everything changes when widowed illustrator Ryan Andrews and his young son, Justin, enter her classroom, and Lara finds herself making choices she never thought she would, in the name of a love she never thought she'd have.

Three years widowed, Mr. Mom Ryan Andrews never thought he'd want to date again, but one look at Lara Boyd changes that. If feeling attraction isn't enough of a surprise, his dead wife appearing and urging him to finally move on definitely is. With Justin's encouragement and his wife's prodding, Ryan chooses to pursue the relationship, a choice that does not sit well with everyone in his life, and proves the power of love can make the easiest choices the most painful.

Choices

Tammy Williams

Genesis Press

April 1, 2008

ISBN-10: 1585713007

ISBN-13: 978-1585713004