Life Knows No Bounds: One Who Loves You More
by Andrea Clinton
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• Alisa is a money grubbing gold digger who sashays through her days wearing this title like a tiara. Feeling life’s all about the expensive gifts and money a man can give her, Alisa follows the steps of her mentor and basks in the glory of using men, until she stumbles upon Omar.
• Omar is an African American Muslim trying to fight his demons and find his way back to the Islamic life he knew as a child. Distraught over disagreements that divided the Muslim community a decade prior, where many Muslims became victim to inner city chaos, Omar became a product of his environment and is at the head of that chaos.
Tired of hearing her mother rant and rave about her gold digging ways, Alisa decides to take her great grandmother’s advice, “Always get a man who loves you more than you love him.” Stumbling upon Omar in his brand new Cadillac, Alisa decides to make him her man, or rather, her victim, or will the tables turn? Hell erupts, splatters like geysers, while skeletons and bones fly out closets in, Life Knows No Bounds, “1 Who Luvs U More.”
Author Andrea Clinton: What Impact will this book have my readers?
Readers will learn about a very overlooked profession on the rise, “Gold Digging.” They’ll get to see that there’s more than what meets the eye when women toy with men’s emotions and use them for their hard earned money.
Read the a full excerpt from book 1 Who Luvs U More
Alisa Speaking: My Plight
Some would say I was ungrateful, and I guess to a degree I was. But more than ungrateful, I was blind, too blind to see straight. Even now I can’t see what it is I should’ve done. I just know what I shouldn’t have done. And I know I wasn’t happy. I was unhappy with myself, with what was going on, and it was the unhappiness that drove me. It drove me to do things, drove me to where I am today, nowhere, with no one. Just sitting here playing the song, I know how it feels to be lonely by Morgana King, in my head, over and over and over again.
I was a mental mess, and I mucked things up really bad, and now they can’t be fixed. Forgive me if my story’s scrambled, but how else can I tell it when my mind is scrambled. So, when my story sounds twisted, shaky, and unclear at times, just know, so is my mind. Why else would I be sitting here talking to a Greek statue of a white woman with cellulite thighs, barely any clothing and no pupils? Yes, I’m really messed up in the head, and my nerves are shot. But that’s how it is when you see yourself as a casualty, and the world deems you the antagonist. ###
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