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Monthly Archives: March 2014

2014 Atlanta Chocolate Social

2014 Atlanta Chocolate Social

Shula’s 347 Grill  
August 7 and 8, 2014  Hosted by EDC Creations


Living & Loving Legends!

Bookclubs and Authors, it’s your time to shine! 
Join us for two nights of fabulous fun created in honor of you. We will host the awards ceremony for the 2014 Black Pearls Literary Excellence Award Winners!  Join the party by  mingling with celebrated authors, publishers, literary icons and  40+bookclub presidents. Enjoy a elegant plated meal, laughter with publishing industry professionals, door prizes and more. 

Come out to network with an open mind and a spirit of fellowship. 
The atmosphere will be full of energy as the featured authors provide live, dramatic readings and entertainment!  Each guest will have a chance to mingle with the authors and to receive a gift bag filled with awesome books. Authors this is your chance to meet  the presidents up close.

Authors should attend the event as a way to meet the readers up close and to network. Even if the you are not a featured author, this is still your BEST opportunity to meet bookclubs up close and personal.  The $60.00 ticket includes the awards dinner, 2 nights of hanging with authors and readers and the gift bag.

DAY 1 – 2014 ATL Chocolate Social Details
Thursday Night, August 7, 2014
Time:  7:00-10:00 pm EST
Location:  Shula’s 347 Grill
Atlanta Marriott Buckhead Hotel
3405 Lenox Road Northeast, Atlanta, GA 30326 
 Awards Banquet and Networking event. Dressy/Business Attire. Have dinner with 8 of today’s most talented authors and more than 40+ bookclub representatives and presidents.


DAY 2 – Meet the Author Literary Salon

Friday Night, August 8, 2014
Time:  8:00-11:00 pm EST

Location:  Ella Curry’s Private Suite
Atlanta Marriott Buckhead Hotel
Open Mic for authors and bookclubs to introduce themselves. Casual party with book readings. Video presentations. Trivia games, photo session, book giveaways and more!
If you do not have a full event ticket, it will be $20.00 at the door.
PURCHASE YOUR TICKETS TODAY: 
http://www.edc-creations.com/chocolate2014.htm

Chocolate Social Dinner and Awards Show Ticket Prices
Regular Ticket Price:  $60.00  per person 
Authors and readers pay the same price. No vending tables this year! However, authors can purchase VIP seating or request to be seated with a book club. I encourage authors to bring plenty of promotional material.  But, this event is about creating a lasting impression through networking.

Group Rate for Reserved Tables:
10 or more tickets purchased at ONE time will receive the discounted rate of $50.00 per person and VIP seating at the event.  Dates to reserve VIP seating are:  October 2, 2013 –  March 30, 2014.  VIP seating for groups only!


All full event tickets include:
 Shula’s 347 Grill spectacular seated dinner, author entertainment, and a $20.00 gift bag. The gift bags will be given out at 10:00 pm ONLY. If you purchase the Thursday night regular ticket you can attend the Friday night meet & greet for free!  Tell all of your friends to purchase tickets early!  The $60.00 includes 2 nights of fun and plenty of book giveaways.


PURCHASE YOUR TICKETS TODAY: 
http://www.edc-creations.com/chocolate2014.htm

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Excerpt: Anybody’s Daughter by Pamela Samuels Young


Anybody’s Daughter
by Pamela Samuels Young

When 13-year-old Brianna is forced into the horrifying world of human sex trafficking, her Uncle Dre, a former drug dealer, scours the dark corners of L.A. determined to find her. He ultimately comes up with a daring plan, one that puts many lives in danger. But will he find Brianna before it’s too late?


Anybody’s Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2)

PROLOGUE

Brianna sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, her thumbs rhythmically tapping the screen of her iPhone. She paused, then hit the Send button, firing off the text message ready?  Her soft hazel eyes lasered into the screen, anticipating—no craving—an instantaneous response. Jaden had told her to text him when she was about to leave the house. So why didn’t he respond?  She hopped off the bed and cracked open the door. A gentle tinkle—probably a spoon clanking against the side of a stainless steel pot—signaled that her mother was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast.

Easing the door shut, Brianna leaned against it and closed her eyes. To pull this off, Brianna couldn’t just act calm, she had to be calm. Otherwise, her mother would surely notice. But at only thirteen, she’d become pretty clear after finding ways around mother’s unreasonable rules. She gently shook the phone as if that might make Jaden’s response instantly appear. Brianna was both thrilled and nervous about finally meeting Jaden, her first real boyfriend—a boyfriend she wasn’t supposed to have. Texts and emails had been racing back and forth between them ever since Jaden friended her on Facebook five weeks earlier.

It still bothered Brianna—but only a little—that Jaden had refused to hook up with her on Skype or FaceTime or even talk to her on the phone. Jaden had explained that he wanted to hear her voice and see her face for the first time in person. When she thought about it, that was kind of romantic.

If it hadn’t been for her Uncle Dre, Brianna would never have been able to have a secret boyfriend. When her uncle presented her with an iPhone for her birthday two months ago, her mother immediately launched into a tirade about perverts and predators on the Internet. But Uncle Dre had teased her mother for being so uptight and successfully pleaded her case.

Thank God her mother was such a techno-square. Although she’d insisted that they share the same Gmail account and barred her from Facebook, Brianna simply used her iPhone to open a Facebook account using a Yahoo address that her mother knew nothing about. As for her texts, she immediately erased them.

A quiet chime signaled the message Brianna had been waiting for. A ripple of excitement shot through her.

Jaden: hey B almst there cant wait 2 c u.
Brianna: me 2
Jaden: cant wait 2 kss dem lips
Brianna: lol!
Jaden: luv u grl!
Brianna: luv u 2

Brianna tossed the phone onto the bed and covered her mouth with both hands. OMG!  She was finally going to meet the love of her life. Jaden’s older brother Clint was taking them to the Starbucks off Wilmington. Her mother kept such tight reins on her, this was the only time she could get away. Jaden had assured her that Clint would make sure she got to school on time.

Turning around to face the mirror on the door, Brianna untied her bushy ponytail and let her hair fall across her shoulders. The yellow-and-purple Lakers tank top her Uncle Dre had given her fit snugly across her chest, but wasn’t slutty-looking. Jaden was a Kobe Bryant fanatic just like she was. He would be impressed when she showed up sporting No. 24.   Brianna slung her backpack over her shoulder and trudged down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“Hey, Mama. I have to be at school early for a Math Club meeting.”

Donna Walker turned away from the stove. “I’m making pancakes. You don’t have time for breakfast?”

Brianna felt a stab of guilt. Her mother was trying harder than ever to be a model parent. Brianna had spent much of the last year living with her grandmother after her mother’s last breakdown.

“Sorry.” She grabbed a cinnamon-raisin bagel from the breadbox on the counter. “Gotta go.”

Donna wiped her hand on a dishtowel. “It’s too early for you to be walking by yourself. I can drop you off.”

Brianna’s breath caught, but she kept her face neutral. “No need. I’m picking up Sydney. We’re walking together.”

Brianna saw the hesitation in her mother’s overprotective eyes.

Taller and darker than her daughter, Donna wore her hair in short, natural curls. Her lips came together like two plump pillows and her eyes were a permanently sad shade of brown. Donna had spent several years as a social worker, but now worked as an administrative assistant at St. Francis Hospital. Work, church and Brianna. That was her mother’s entire life. No man, no girlfriends, no fun.

Brianna wasn’t having any of that. She was gonna have a life, no matter how hard her mother tried to keep her on a short leash like a prized pet.  Donna finally walked over and gave her daughter a peck on the cheek, then repeated the same words she said every single morning: “You be careful.”

Brianna bolted through the front door and hurried down the street. As expected, no one was out yet. Her legs grew shaky as she scurried past Sydney’s house. Brianna had wanted to tell her BFF about hooking up with Jaden today, but he made her promise not to. Anyway, Sydney had the biggest mouth in the whole seventh grade. Brianna couldn’t afford to have her business in the street. She’d made Sydney swear on the Bible before telling her about Jaden.

As she neared the end of the block, she saw it. The burgundy Escalade with the tinted windows was parked behind Mario’s Fish Market just like Jaden had promised. Brianna was so excited her hands began to tremble. She was only a few feet away from the SUV when the driver’s door opened and a man climbed out.

“Hey, Brianna. I’m Clint, Jaden’s brother. He’s in the backseat.”

Brianna unconsciously took a step back. Jaden’s brother didn’t look anything like him. On his Facebook picture, Jaden had dark eyes, a narrow nose and could’ve passed for T.I.’s twin brother. This man was dark-skinned with a flat nose and crooked teeth. And there was no way he was nineteen. He had to be even older than her Uncle Dre, who was thirty-something. Brianna bit her lip. Something unsettling tinkered in her gut, causing her senses to see-saw between fear and elation. But it was love, her love for Jaden, that won out. It didn’t matter what his brother looked like. They probably had different daddies.

She handed Clint her backpack and stooped to peer inside the back of the SUV. At the same horrifying moment that Brianna realized that the man inside was not Jaden, Clint snatched her legs out from under her and shoved her inside the Escalade. The man in the backseat grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her toward him. Brianna tumbled face-first into his lap, inhaling sweat and weed and piss.

“Owwwww! Get your hands offa me!” Brianna shouted, her arms and legs thrashing about like a drowning swimmer. “Where’s Jaden? Let me go!”

“Relax, baby.” The stinky man’s voice sounded old and husky. “Just calm down.”

“Let me go!” Brianna screamed.

She tried to pull away, but Stinky Man palmed the back of her head like a basketball, easily holding her in place. Clint reached between the front seats, snatched her arms behind her back and bound them with rope.

When Brianna heard the quiet revving of the engine and the door locks click into place, panic exploded from her ears. She violently kicked her feet, hoping to break the window. But each kick landed with a sharp thud that launched needles of pain back up her legs.

“Don’t touch me! Let me goooooo!”

The stinky man thrust a calloused hand down the back of her pants.

“Damn, girl,” he cackled. “I like this big old behind.”

“Cut it out, Leon,” Clint shouted. “I’ve told you before. Don’t mess with the merchandise.”

Clint reached into the backseat again and stabbed Brianna’s arm with a needle just above the elbow.

A flash of fire lit up her entire body and in seconds, her eyelids felt like two heavy windows being forced shut. She tried to scream, but the ringing in her ears drowned out all sound. When she blinked up at Stinky Man, he had two—no three—heads.

Brianna could feel the motion of the SUV pulling away from Mario’s Fish Market. She needed to do something. But her body was growing heavy and her head ached. The thick haze that cluttered her mind allowed only one desperate thought to seep through.

Mommy! Uncle Dre! Please help me! 

( Continued… )

© 2013 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Pamela Samuels Young. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher’s written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. Share a link to this page or the author’s website if you really like this promotional excerpt.

The Readers Love  Anybody’s Daughter
    #2 in  Literature & Fiction > African American > Women’s Fiction
    #17  Literature & Fiction > United States > African American
    #26  Mystery, Thriller & Suspense > Thrillers > Legal


About the Author
PAMELA SAMUELS YOUNG
is a practicing attorney whose fast-paced legal thrillers tackle law and crime. Recognized for her savvy female characters, Pamela brings a taste of diversity to the legal fiction genre. Her novels include the Fall 2013 release Anybody’s Daughter, Attorney-Client Privilege, Murder on the Down Low. A natural hair enthusiast, she is the author of Kinky Coily: A Natural Hair Resource Guide.  To invite Pamela to your book club meeting or event, email Pamela via her website at www.pamelasamuelsyoung.com

 
 

Excerpt: Are Your Daughters Safe? Anybody’s Daughter


Anybody’s Daughter
by Pamela Samuels Young

When 13-year-old Brianna is forced into the horrifying world of human sex trafficking, her Uncle Dre, a former drug dealer, scours the dark corners of L.A. determined to find her. He ultimately comes up with a daring plan, one that puts many lives in danger. But will he find Brianna before it’s too late?

The Readers Love  Anybody’s Daughter
#2    Literature & Fiction > African American > Women’s Fiction
#17  Literature & Fiction > United States > African American
 #26  Mystery, Thriller & Suspense > Thrillers > Legal
Anybody’s Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2)




CHAPTER 12

Day One: 11:15 p.m.
Loretha Johnson watched the young girl wobble along Long Beach Boulevard dressed in a halter top, cut-off jeans, black stilettos and sparkly red lipstick. She couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred pounds. The awkward manner in which she forced her bony hips from side to side underscored her adolescence.
 
Standing in the doorway of an abandoned donut shop, Loretha waited for the right opportunity to approach. There was a steady trail of cars slowing down to check out the merchandise. She spotted two other girls on the opposite side of the street.
 
“You want a date, baby?” the girl in the halter top called out in a child’s voice.
 
A beige Camry pulled over to the curb a few yards ahead. The girl scampered over, barely able to balance herself on her too-high heels. She bent low, allowing the potential john to get a glimpse of her nonexistent cleavage. Loretha clasped her hands, then absently twirled a finger around her shoulder-length locs. She sucked in a breath, praying that the girl didn’t get in the car.
 
“Ten dollars!” the girl yelled, springing back to her full height. “You must be crazy! I charge fifty for a blow job.”   She tottered away cursing as the man drove off.
 
Loretha glanced up and down the street, making sure the girl’s pimp wasn’t watching. With a kid this young-surely no older than thirteen or fourteen-her pimp had to be close by. If the girl was seen talking to Loretha, she’d get a beating. Hopefully, the pimp was busy keeping an eye on somebody else in his stable.
 
Confident that he wasn’t nearby, Loretha followed the girl, remaining a few strides behind.
 
“You don’t have to be out here on the street selling your body,” Loretha called out. “You know that, right?”   Loretha pulled her sweater tighter across her chest and marveled at how the girl could look so comfortable dressed in next to nothing. It was barely fifty degrees.
 
“I’m from Harmony House,” Loretha continued. “I can help you get away from your pimp.”  Though the girl wasn’t facing her, Loretha could see her body go rigid. She took a quick glance at Loretha over her shoulder.
 
“I ain’t got no pimp,” the girl snapped. “So just get outta here and leave me alone. My daddy warned us about you.”   Good, Loretha thought. That meant the girl’s pimp viewed her as a threat.
 
“Don’t worry,” Loretha assured her. “Your pimp’s not around. I won’t get you in trouble. I know you can’t be seen talking to me. Just keep walking and I’ll stay back.”
 
“I told you, I don’t have no pimp,” the girl spat, continuing her stroll. “I have a boyfriend.”  It would be a waste of time to explain to the girl that boyfriends don’t sell their girlfriends to other men.
 
“If you ever need a place to go, you can come to Harmony House. All you have to do is call. Anytime, day or night, and I’ll come get you.”    
 
The girl stopped, put a hand on her hip, but didn’t turn to face her. “I already got a place to stay.”
 
The bravado didn’t fool Loretha either. She knew it was all an act.
 
“That’s fine. But if you ever want to leave, I have a place for you to go. What’s your name?”
 
The girl stepped off the curb and raised her hand high, trying to wave down a car that had reduced its speed. “You want a date tonight, honey?” she yelled out to the driver.
 
The man rolled down his window, gazed hungrily at the girl, then spied Loretha and sped off.
 
“You messin’ with my business!” the girl yelled. She finally turned around to get a good look at Loretha, but kept moving. “Get the hell away from me!”
 
“What’s your name?” Loretha asked again, matching the girl’s steps stride for stride, but careful to stay a safe distance back.
 
“Lady, I gotta make my quota. Leave me alone!”
 
“I’m just here to let you know you have options. What’s your name?”
 
The girl finally turned around. “Peaches. Why you messin’ with me?”
 
“Nice to meet you, Peaches. I’m Loretha Johnson. How old are you, Peaches?”
 
“Nineteen.”
 
The streetlight provided a solid glimpse of the cocoa-colored, plump-faced girl. There was no way she was nineteen. Up close, she looked even younger than Loretha had first thought.
 
“Why you out here tryin’ to be somebody’s fairy godmother?”
 
“Because I used to walk this track myself,” Loretha replied. “I know what it’s like.”
 
That got the girl’s attention. She glanced back at Loretha again. This time, her expression had softened, but only for an instant.
 
Loretha had indeed lived this life. Every horrible second of it. Older and wiser now, she was doing everything in her power to rescue others. One girl at a time.
 
She understood that Peaches and girls like her saw no way out. But to meet someone who had managed to escape, meant that it was possible for them to find their way to freedom too.
 
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Peaches continued, “but you don’t look like you got what it takes. You must’a been out here a long time ago.”
 
Loretha didn’t take offense at the girl’s intended slight. “Walking the track is hard work,” she said. “Makes you age much faster than you have to.”
 
It had been years since she’d strolled this very block, but the memory was like a deep wound. Though healed, the resulting scar would never go away.
 
These days, Loretha put extra effort into not looking pretty. Her skin was no longer porcelain smooth. Her hair still fell past her shoulders, but she didn’t wear it bone straight anymore. Her locs were dyed auburn and were usually pulled back into a bun. She’d also picked up twenty pounds or so and found comfort in her bare face and loose-fitting clothes. Though her exterior appeared shabby, on the inside, she finally felt worthy. That was the kind of beauty she wanted these girls to experience.
 
Loretha’s smartphone buzzed. She pulled it from her pocket, instantly recognizing the number. Another child who needed her help.     
 
“I have to go, but I want you to call me. My number’s easy to remember. It’s 888-373-7888. Loretha pointed up the street. “I’m going to leave my card on the bus bench underneath that streetlight over there. I want you to pick it up and keep it with you. If you ever need help, call me and I’ll come get you.”
 
Loretha rushed past the girl, dropped her business card on the bench and turned down a side street toward her car. Minutes later, when her Prius reached the corner, the card was no longer on the bench.
 
She smiled and shook her fist in the air. “Thank you, Jesus!”
 
In Loretha’s world, that simple act was a victory.

( Continued… )

© 2013 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Pamela Samuels Young. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher’s written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. Share a link to this page or the author’s website if you really like this promotional excerpt.

About the Author
PAMELA SAMUELS YOUNG
is a practicing attorney whose fast-paced legal thrillers tackle law and crime. Recognized for her savvy female characters, Pamela brings a taste of diversity to the legal fiction genre. Her novels include the Fall 2013 release Anybody’s Daughter, Attorney-Client Privilege, Murder on the Down Low. A natural hair enthusiast, she is the author of Kinky Coily: A Natural Hair Resource Guide.  To invite Pamela to your book club meeting or event, email Pamela via her website at www.pamelasamuelsyoung.com

 
 

Excerpts: Pink & Patent Leather by Candy Jackson

Pink & Patent Leather
by Candy Jackson

Sasha “Pink” Jansen has heard the voice of God. He spoke loud and clear at her purity ceremony, when she was just sixteen years old and Pastor Malik Stroman placed that ring on her finger. And He was just as clear when He told her that purity ring would someday be replaced with a wedding ring from the same man . . . all Pink had to do was save herself.

Dreams of a life with Pastor Malik were enough to keep the privileged princess committed to her vow, dodging all kinds of temptation, resisting every romance, and the whole time, keeping her eyes on the prize –the day she would become first lady. There’s just one problem – Pastor Malik already has a wife. But Pink is accustomed to getting what she wants – by any means necessary. With her grace and virtue on the line – and what she thinks is God’s word in her head – Pink is on a mission no one understands.

She’s determined to show Pastor Malik that they belong together – and come hell or high water, she plans to get the good reverend to agree. Candy Jackson has penned a page-turning tale of one-woman’s quest for love and the spiraling descent she’ll take to get it…


* Book Excerpt:

“True love waits,” he said, as he gently slipped the platinum band with diamond chips onto my finger. “I am proud that you have decided to save yourself for marriage.”

That’s when it happened, right then, at that moment, in that instant. It was like I was being washed in this overwhelming feeling that God had a message for me.


* Book Excerpt:

Now, I was a grown girl, with my Bachelor of Arts degree from Spellman and my high-rise condominium located in the great metropolis, formerly known as Chocolate City. With my fancy little 525 BMW with custom wheels and personalized tags. I truly was a long way from where I used to be.

Many might think that I am spoiled, but heck, I worked hard in college. I remained a permanent fixture on the Dean’s list each semester, spent my summers abroad, and graduated magnum cum laude with a degree in journalism.

Now, I was a young, rising junior editor at Power Play Magazine, where even though I’d only been there three months, I was on the move. I was flirting, teasing, and proving to my boss that I had beauty, but it was my brains that was going to get me to the top without sleeping with him or any man.


About the Author

Washington, DC author, Candy Jackson is a cosmetology teacher who loves to create poetry and short stories. Her reading rose to a brand new height with the discovery of many black writers whose work exploded in the ‘80’s. An avid reader, she began to tap into her own creative side and decided to write stories of her own.  Candy is the mother of three young adult children and one grandson. She can be reached at pepperedpages@hotmail.com.

Purchase Pink & Patent Leather by Candy Jackson
Purchase today:  http://amzn.com/099153221X 
BGP Publisher:  www.browngirlspublishing.com

 
 

Excerpt: The Prodigal Son by Kimberla Lawson Roby

The Prodigal Son
by Kimberla Lawson Roby

The Reverend Curtis Black hasn’t spoken to his son, Matthew, in over a year-not since Matthew dropped out of Harvard to marry his girlfriend, Racquel, and be a full-time father to their infant son. Curtis knows that it was he and his wife, Charlotte, who drove Matthew away, but he prays that one day his son will forgive them and come home.

Matthew, however, can’t seem to forget the pain his parents caused him and Racquel. Still, he wonders if maybe they’d been right, as fatherhood is not what he expected, and Racquel’s behavior has become increasingly erratic. Matthew genuinely wants to be a good husband, though, and swears he’ll never repeat his parents’ mistakes. But when an old friend expresses her desire for Matthew, the temptation may be too great to resist…

Then, there’s Dillon Whitfield, Curtis’s long-lost-son, who has settled in as a member of the Black family. Yet the transition has been anything but easy. Charlotte, convinced he’s only after Curtis’s money, wishes he would move back to where he came from. Dillon, however, has no intention of going anywhere. After a lifetime in the shadows, he’s determined to take his rightful place as Curtis’s first-born son and heir, and he’ll do whatever it takes to win his father’s affection-even if it means playing dirty…

As jealousy builds and secrets pile up, both of Curtis’s sons will be pushed over the edge and forced to take drastic action. Can these two troubled young men find their way back into the Black family fold, or will their family ties be undone once and for all?

Kimberla’s novels are categorized as Contemporary Mainstream Fiction.  Her target audience is primarily women of all ages, but men read her novels as well. The primary subject matter discussed in THE PRODIGAL SON is family drama relating to both marriage and sibling rivalry.

THE PRODIGAL SON

Chapter 1

Matthew stared at his wife of ten months and shook his head. Racquel, who was sitting at the opposite end of the chocolate brown, leather sofa, looked over at him and frowned. “What?”

Matthew shook his head again. This time, his eyes screamed disappointment. But all Racquel did was purse her lips and turn her attention back to the flat screen television. It was a noticeably warm Friday evening in May, and though Matthew was a bit tired from his long day at work, he would have loved nothing more than for the two of them to be out somewhere together; maybe have a nice dinner and catch whatever new movie was playing. But as usual, Racquel was contently curled up—like an unconcerned couch potato—doing what she did best: watching some awful, ungodly reality show.

Matthew leaned his head back onto the sofa and closed his eyes. Not in his wildest imagination—not in a thousand lifetimes—would he have ever pictured himself being so miserable. But miserable he was, and worse, he now realized that getting married at the young age of nineteen had turned out to be a horrible mistake. He’d now turned twenty, but he could kick himself for giving up a full, four-year, academic scholarship to Harvard University, something he’d worked very hard for his entire childhood—and now this was all he had to show for it? This, a tiny, two-bedroom apartment, a twelve-dollar-an-hour job at a bank, and no love life of any kind to speak of? 

Not since the day he’d been born had he ever had to struggle financially. Even before he’d met his father, which hadn’t happened until he was seven years old, Matthew had lived a pretty good life because his maternal grandparents had always seen to it. Then, of course, when his mom had married his dad, he hadn’t gone without anything.

He must have been crazy in love or crazy out of his mind to think he was doing the right thing by getting married. He also couldn’t deny how right his mother had been, every time she’d warned him about having unprotected sex. He still hadn’t spoken to either of his parents in more than a year—not even when they’d mailed him a ten-thousand-dollar check, and he’d torn it up—but his mom had been correct in her thinking. Matthew wasn’t sure why he’d been so careless and irresponsible. Although, he was proud of the fact that he’d immediately manned up as soon as he’d learned of Racquel’s pregnancy and had decided to be there for both her and the baby.

Then, as it had turned out, Racquel’s parents had told him that they would take care of little MJ until he and Racquel finished college—since Racquel had been scheduled to attend MIT a few months after the baby was born. They’d also wanted Matthew to get his education without any worries, so off to Boston he had gone—and life had been great until that dreadful day in January when Racquel had gone into labor much too early. A huge blowup had ensued between his mother and Vanessa, the two grandmothers to be, at Racquel’s baby shower, and Racquel had gotten herself all worked up over it. Next thing anyone had known, her water had broken and she’d been rushed to the hospital.

Matthew remembered how terrified he’d been that Racquel would lose the baby, but thank God, everything had turned out well. Little MJ had been born with a respiratory problem, but he’d ended up being released from the hospital just a few days later. Although, the more Matthew thought about all that had evolved, he was saddened further because none of what had occurred on the day of the baby shower could compare to any of what had happened a few weeks afterward. His mother had concocted the most outlandish scheme, and before long, the Division of Children and Family Services had come knocking at the front door of Racquel’s parents’, stating that they’d received two phone calls claiming child abuse. Of course, none of this had been true, and although in the end, the truth had been exposed and Charlotte had been arrested, the whole idea of little MJ being snatched away from Racquel had been too much for her to handle. It was the reason she now regularly obsessed over their one-year-old son, and she never felt comfortable leaving him with her own parents, let alone anyone else. 

She wasn’t even okay with Matthew taking MJ to see his sister, Alicia, or his great-aunt, Emma because she feared something might happen to him or that he might be kidnapped. That whole DCFS incident had ruined Racquel emotionally, and Matthew had a feeling things would never be normal for them again. As it was, she rarely left the house, and she no longer visited any of her friends when they came home from school for the weekend. She never invited anyone over to the apartment either.


The Prodigal Son by Kimberla Lawson Roby
Series: A Reverend Curtis Black Novel
Amazon: http://amzn.com/1455526134  
 
 

Excerpt: Open Door Marriage by Naleighna Kai

Open Door Marriage
by Naleighna Kai

“Open Door Marriage is a page-turner from start to finish, uniquely written to explore the emotions of three people who have bonds that seem unbreakable. That is, until they are tested in a relationship that causes their families, religious leaders, and the public to be up in arms. Naleighna Kai has written a provocative novel that is about a relationship that is as complicated as it can get.” –Valarie Prince, author of The Lair of the Python

A chance encounter lands NBA star Dallas Avery back in the arms of the woman of his dreams. A woman he hasn’t seen in years. A woman he soon discovers just so happens to be his fiancée’s aunt! But Dallas’ fiancee, Tori, isn’t ready to give up all that she’s worked for, so she makes him a shocking offer – go through with the wedding and she’ll still allow him to be with the one woman he now can’t seem to do without. Dallas will get a family, something her much older aunt, Alicia can’t give him. Tori will get the lifestyle she clamors. And Alicia will get the love she’s longed for all her life. Everyone will get a little of what they want . . . and maybe a whole lot of what they don’t.

The details of the trio’s love life play out in the tabloids and on talk shows, making Dallas the center of an NBA scandal. And eventually, the doors slam shut on this open marriage and Dallas is forced to make a choice to end the chaos. But moving on is easier than it looks and by the time all is said and done, secrets will be revealed, passions will be extinguished, and everyone’s lives will be forever changed.

“Open Door Marriage is a page-turner from start to finish, uniquely written to explore the emotions of three people who have bonds that seem unbreakable. That is, until they are tested in a relationship that causes their families, religious leaders, and the public to be up in arms. Naleighna Kai has written a provocative novel that is about a relationship that is as complicated as it can get.” –Valarie Prince, author of Lair of the Python

“While a few books have tackled this subject in different ways, the way Naleighna Kai approaches a difficult situation is sure to be fuel for heated conversations for years to come. Open Door Marriage proves many things, but mostly that the title of my novel holds true.—Janice Pernell, author of There’s No Right Way to do a Wrong Thing.


Excerpt from Chapter 1 

THANKSGIVING – CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

NOVEMBER 22—7:23 P.M.

“You slept with my aunt?”

The words still didn’t register, even though this had to be Tori’s fifth time saying them. She glared at her fiancé, still desperately trying to come to terms with the information her mother had blasted to everyone at the packed Thanksgiving dinner table.

“Seriously? How is that even humanly possible when you didn’t know the woman four hours ago?” Tori shouted.

“Tori, l-let me explain,” Dallas stammered.

Twelve pairs of eyes were now focused on the not-quite-blissful couple standing at the bottom of the stairs just off from the dining room.

“But not here. Let’s go somewhere and talk. It’s not what you think.”

“What did you do?” Tori snapped, glaring up at Dallas. “Trip over the sheets, and your penis somehow landed in a woman nearly twice my age?”

The drumstick in Uncle Bill’s hand paused in midair on its journey to his wide mouth. Cousin Tiny’s fleshy hand flew to her overexposed bosom and came to rest somewhere above her heart. Even Tori’s father’s frozen expression of alarm would have been Three Stooges comical if the situation weren’t so tragic.

Aunt Yoli was the first to recover. “Did they just say what I think they said?”

In unison, everyone nodded.

“Girl, shut the front door and run out the back!”

A few bursts of nervous laughter sprang up around the table, but they were not nearly enough to chase away the unease that had flooded the room when Tori stepped into the house. She’d gone to drop off Aunt Rose’s drunk self at home. Tori hadn’t even been in the house good when her mother, Bernice, blurted out that she’d caught Alicia and Dallas together. Alone. In bed. In the nude. Tori had picked up from there and summed it up in one sweep. “You slept with my aunt …”

“Nothing happened, Tori,” Dallas said, his voice shaky. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“So, my mama is lying?” Tori asked.

Dallas shifted uneasily.

“Hell naw. I know what I saw,” Bernice snapped. She had moved from the dining room table to the end of the staircase, right next to her daughter, poised as if she was ready to go to battle. “Both of you were in bed butt-ass naked.” She jabbed a finger in her sister-in-law’s direction. Alicia hadn’t moved from her spot at the top of the staircase. Probably, because she knew what was best for her. “She was butt-naked. And he was nut-naked,” Bernice yelled. “Wasn’t an inch of space between them.” She flickered a gaze a Dallas. “Look at him. You can tell he just got dressed!”

Tori closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm the emotions that warred within her.

“See, I told you Alicia wasn’t worth a damn,” Bernice, crowed with savage satisfaction. “And looks like Mr. NBA ain’t much better. You thought he was all that and a side order of fries.”

Dallas Avery was the NBA’s most valuable player, and a man most women would give their right and left ovary to call their own. But Most Eligible Bachelor or not, he had set Tori’s bitch meter into overdrive. Even with his chiseled, handsome face, towering muscular frame and million dollar bank accounts, he was now worth next to nothing in her eyes. Too bad her aching heart didn’t get that memo.

Tori didn’t know if she was more enraged or hurt that her mother had been all too willing to drive this stake through her own daughter’s heart in order to publicly disgrace Alicia.

“Tori, we need to talk about this,” Dallas repeated before adding, “in private.”

Bernice wore a satisfied smirk as she glared openly up at Alicia, who just kept staring stoically at them from the second floor landing. “The angel of the family has fallen,” Bernice said.

“Hey, Bernice,” Bill taunted with a hearty chuckle. “Bet you won’t say that when Alicia comes downstairs. You know she’s gonna put a hurting on you.”

“You mean put another hurting on her,” Aunt Yoli added, doubling over with laughter.

Tori wanted to scream. Her life was unraveling in front of her and her family was cracking jokes.

Instinctively, Bernice inched away from the staircase and back toward the dining room table. Her hands went up to the small scar on her neck, probably remembering that a year ago on this very same holiday, Alicia had ended a vicious blow-for-blow fight with a knife at Bernice’s throat. Almost gave the woman a “Sicilian Smile”—an ear-to-ear slice across the throat.

Dallas reached for Tori’s hand. “It’s not what it seems.”

She snatched away, parted her lips to give him what was left of her mind, but Cousin Tiny chimed in first. “Alicia had every right to take Bernice to the floor last year for that foul mess she said! I would’ve pulled out my own can of whoop ass behind that one.”

Tiny’s husband, Thomas nodded his watermelon-sized head.

The rest of the family finally sprang to life, also chiming in at once to defend Alicia, the one woman everyone could count on in a time of need, to lend an ear when it was called for and to dry a tear when no one else bothered to care. That she would do something as low as sleep with her niece’s soon-to-be husband was unthinkable. So the family sidestepped that issue for as long as they could, finding it more comfortable to speak on the reason no one had expected Alicia home for Thanksgiving—especially since none of them had heard from her for an entire year.

Dallas maneuvered so he was in front of Tori. “Nothing. Happened.”

“If Bernice had said that bull to me,” Bill responded, still trying to tackle the last of the drumstick, “an ass whipping would’ve been the least of her problems.” He beckoned toward the last slice of sweet potato pie at the other end of the table. “That has my name written all over it.”

“Bernice is lying,” Martha said. “Alicia’s still got looks and all, but that young stud wouldn’t pick her over Tori.” She shot an appreciative glance toward Dallas, then leaned to her right and whispered loudly in Yoli’s direction, “But, girl, he is finer than frog’s hair.”

Yoli gave him a lusty once-over. “I’d give him some my damn self. He’s the type of man who can make a woman put a for sale sign on one thigh and an open for business sign on the other. Yes, Lawd!”

Tori tried her best to tune out her family. She didn’t have the stamina to deal with them right now. “How could you do this? You’re my fiancé.”

“You’re Tori’s fiancée?” Alicia finally spoke out. She eased down the stairs, looking first to Tori then to Dallas. Her panic-stricken expression gave Tori pause. Could her aunt really have not known?

Alicia turned back to her niece. “Oh, my, God, Tori. I had no idea. I’m so, so sorry.” She didn’t give Tori time to reply as she brushed past Dallas, slipped into the nearest pair of shoes—her brother’s—and ran out of the front door, oblivious to the fact that she barely had on enough clothing to protect her from the chill in the room, let alone the sub-zero temps of a Chicago winter.

The whole crowd gasped in disbelief as Dallas grabbed his leather coat from the foyer closet. “She can’t go out there with nothing on,” he said as he stepped into his Timberlands. “I’ll be right back.”

Tori was ready to spit fire. “Are you kidding me?” she screamed as he quickly laced up his shoes, then darted toward the door. “You’re going after my aunt? My aunt!” she yelled, following him. “My heart is bleeding all over the carpet and you’re going after her!”

The front door slammed and Tori stood frozen, unable to believe what happened in the last ten minutes. Bernice’s voice snapped Tori out of her trance. “Girl, I taught you better than that,” Bernice yelled, gesturing to the door. “You’d better go get your man!”

( Continued… )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Naleighna Kai. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Share a link to this page or the author’s website if you really like this sneak peek.

About Naleighna Kai 
Naleighna Kai
is the national bestselling author of Every Woman Needs a Wife, with a spin-off titled, The Pleasure’s All Mine and Open Door Marriage. She started writing in December of 1999, independently publishing her first two novels before acquiring a book deal with an imprint of Simon & Schuster and most recently a book deal with Brown Girls Publishing–the offspring of mega-successful national bestselling authors—Victoria Christopher Murray and ReShonda Tate Billingsley. She is a contributing author to a New York Times Bestseller, an award-winning author, the E. Lynn Harris Author of Distinction, and a noted book club favorite on Oprah.com.

Naleighna works for a major international law firm and is the CEO of Macro Marketing & Promotions Group, as well as the marketing consultant to several national bestselling and aspiring writers. She is also the brainchild behind the annual Cavalcade of Authors events which takes place in her hometown of Chicago. Naleighna pens contemporary fiction, erotica, and speculative fiction and is currently working on her next novels:  Was it Good For You Too?,  Rich Woman’s Fetish and Slaves of Heaven.

Find Naleighnaon the web at: www.naleighnakai.com  and www.thecavalcadeofauthors.com.  Like on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/naleighnakai  or Follow on Twitter: https://twitter.com/NaleighnaKai 


Purchase Open Door Marriage by Naleighna Kai
Download Link:  http://amzn.com/B00I5VFS3K

 
 

Excerpt: If You Don’t Know Me by Mary B. Morrison

If You Don’t Know Me
by Mary B. Morrison


If you can’t get enough of all things reality television get ready for the drama like only New York Times bestselling author MARY B. MORRISON can bring it!  New York Times and #1 Essence best selling author Mary B. Morrison knows how to write stories that will have readers on the edge of their seats. 

Her critically acclaimed debut series Soul Mates Dissipate explored the topic that puzzles most of us: how to find— and keep — your soul mate. The series did so well that Morrison received a multi-film development deal. Publishers Weekly noted Morrison’s sensual novels “pack in dozens of juicy episodes” in her “high drama page turners” and described her as “prolific.”

Her new series which introduced readers to sexy vixen Madison Taylor and a whole cast of juicy new characters has continued to keep readers panting with Elev8.com noting “Mary is at the top of the African-American fiction genre” and Library Journal praising the second installment and encouraging readers to “buy in anticipation of high demand.”

Mary returns in April with IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME;  the third installment of the If I Can’t Have You series being published by Dafina Books in hardcover original.

Two women, a sizzling wager, and the fallout that would turn their lives upside down, that’s exactly what readers will find in Mary B. Morrison’s newest release. Sindy Singleton isn’t about to lose Chicago DuBois to Madison again. But getting him to open his heart once more won’t be enough to satisfy her. Enlisting the help of Chicago’s worst enemy is the fastest way she knows to expose Madison’s most brazen deception yet. But Madison has more than one devastating card to play.

If there’s one thing Madison has learned from her disastrous bet, it’s how to turn catastrophe into opportunity. Playing on Chicago’s fatherly instincts will maintain her access to the DuBois fortune—and keep her family’s empire successful. Using sweet Sindy’s niceness against her will knock her out of the running. And the cherry on top: Madison’s got the perfect scheme to finally take care of her ex-lover, her rivals, and the husband she’ll never let go.

EXCERPT: IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME

CHAPTER 1

Sindy

“When he walks in, you’ll walk out.”

“Are you sure?” Nyle asked me after the prison guard closed the door to our private glass-enclosed room.

We sat facing each other. The chill from the stainless steel chair made me sit on the edge of my seat. The rectangular-shaped metal table was cold enough to keep my favorite butter pecan ice cream from melting. Three feet of space separated us.

I stared into his crystal-blue eyes as I said, “Help me get Granville Washington back behind bars and you’ll be discharged the same day he’s booked. The remaining two-and-a-half of your three-year sentence will be dismissed. You’ll be on a one-year probation with an officer that you’ll meet face-to-face one time. After that you’ll check in over the phone. A few people owe me favors. If you complete the assignment to my satisfaction, your early release is guaranteed.”

Nyle sighed heavily. His neatly arched brows drew close together. His eyes darted to the left. He blinked. When he opened his eyes, they were intensely on me. Instantly, I became motionless.

“I’ve already done what you’ve asked of me.”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly my ass.” Veins protruded from his neck. His voice escalated in anger. “The outcome isn’t what either of us anticipated but I did my part. Now you want me to do you another favor? Fuck the money you paid me. I want out of here today.”

That wasn’t happening. When we left this room, I was going home; he was headed back to his cell. I did not influence him to commit a crime. That was his choice. Helping him get out was mine.

“What if what you want now isn’t what you expect later? Then what? You walk away and leave me to do all of my time?”

Precisely. In my mind, I nodded, but didn’t move my head. He had nothing to lose. I did. I needed him to calm down so he could focus on what was important to me.

I softened my tone. “Fair enough. Regardless of what happens this time, I’ll keep my word.” Not sure if I were lying, I extended my hand and shook his. I had to tell Nyle what he needed to hear.

Getting men to do whatever I wanted—with the exception of my father—that was my strength. Loving another woman’s husband was my weakness.

Better for me to pursue the man I wanted than to allow my dad to arrange for my husband the way he’d done with Siara. I missed her. Skype was nice but I hadn’t seen my sister in person in twelve years. Her being sold by our father wasn’t my fault but she didn’t feel the same. Occasionally, she still says, “You are my big sister. You were supposed to protect me.” I think our father or her husband told her not to come back to America and not to let me visit her in Paris. I wasn’t sure how or when but one day we would reunite.

Trust your gut instincts. That was how I lived. My word used to be a firm commitment. Since I was a little girl, when Sindy Singleton made a promise, I kept it. Truth or lie, right or wrong, my love for Roosevelt “Chicago” Dubois was gradually overruling my senses. Lately I’d been doing what was in my best interest. When things didn’t go my way, I didn’t hesitate to change my mind.

This morning I’d smoothed back my long straight cinnamon hair and coiled it into a bun that sat at the nape of my neck. My cream-colored pants, which I only wore when I visited the Federal Detention Center, were loosely fitted. A simple short-sleeved matching blouse draped my hips. Comfortable leather flats clung to my feet. No lipstick. No perfume. No jewelry. My purse was in the trunk of my Bentley that I’d parked in a downtown lot a block away. My keys were secured in one of the small lockers in the lobby. My Texas driver’s license was left with the guard at the security entrance.

Sitting in a room reserved for attorney/client visits, I was the attorney. Nyle Carter was my protégé. I needed this inmate’s help the same as he desperately desired mine.

“Let me get this straight. I have to find a way to bring Granville back to prison before you’ll get me out of here?” he lamented.

Peering through the glass door, I scanned the visitors’ room. There was a handful of folks who had come to see what I called “the mentally ill and prayed up.” Prison made grown men ask the Lord, Buddha, Allah, Jehovah, or whatever higher power they believed in to set them free. Forgiveness wasn’t practical for repeat offenders. I wished repentance wasn’t an option for them either.

A lot of the criminals I represented were guilty but the majority of them had raised their right hand and sworn on the Bible that they were innocent. I was paid to defend, not to judge. Ultimately, that was God’s job.

Nyle had pleaded the Fifth on his charges and still had to do time. He’d become known to those on the inside as G-double-A. Some youngster by the name of No Chainz had given Nyle the name saying it meant “Got All the Answers.” I wished that were true for me. I wouldn’t be sitting in this cold room trying to convince a man to entrap another man so that I could be with the man I loved.

“I said you were to make sure he never got out.”

Nyle remained quiet.

On a scale from one to ten, Nyle was handsome above average. Put a suit on him the way he used to dress prior to getting locked up and no one would believe he was forty years old when he was arrested. Not that there was a better age to be charged but with his thick blond curly hair and smooth pale skin he could easily pass for thirty.

“I paid you twenty thousand to give Granville advice that would get him convicted with two consecutive life sentences.”

He slid his hand from his forehead to the nape of his neck. No response.

Nyle could benefit from a daily dose of natural vitamin D. The inmates didn’t get much sunlight. Everything was indoors, including the gym. The few windows they had were high above the basketball court. Nyle deserved to be here but didn’t belong. There were some people you never envisioned behind bars. Others you knew it wasn’t if they were going to do time. It was when and for how long?

“Why did the judge overturn the jury’s decision?” I asked.

Getting myself this involved, I could risk being disbarred and losing Roosevelt if he thought I was part of the conspiracy to kill him. I was undoubtedly determined to have that man.

Secretly, I was attracted to Roosevelt well before we’d met. A schoolgirl crush, more like college, was what I had. We didn’t go to the same university but I’d gone to his football games. Unlike some of the other players, Roosevelt never had a bunch of groupies tailing him. For me it was one of those situations where I liked him, but never thought we’d meet. After his engagement was announced on the news and he married Madison, I’d given up on my fantasy of being with him until his brother came to my office one day for business. Chaz suggested Numbiya and I stop by Eddie V’s. Roosevelt was there. Instantly, we hit it off. Initially, I wasn’t, then I was, then I wasn’t saving my virginity for him but now that I knew him better, I’d decided Roosevelt—not the billionaire who had paid my father for my hand in marriage—was the one.

How long was Nyle going to hold out without answering me? I refused to say another word. If he was done, so was I.

My father was a self-made multimillionaire. If Charles Singleton owned all the gold in Fort Knox, it wouldn’t be enough and it’d never make him happy. He was so driven by greed he didn’t know how to enjoy life or value people. Money was his god.

I still didn’t believe my mother accidentally fell down the stairs. Never saw her insurance policy but knowing my father he’d probably collected a hefty seven figures. My father told us he had our mama cremated. Her family begged for a memorial service. They had no legal rights. Jasmine Singleton had no funeral. Dysfunctional as we were, until the day Mama died and Siara was sold, we were a family. Shortly after Mama’s ashes were scattered over the Gulf of Mexico, my daddy became richer. My gut told me there was no wake because there was no death. Perhaps that was my wishful belief.

The man that I wanted couldn’t be bought. If I were more like my father, I’d pay Roosevelt’s wife to leave him alone. If she’d refused, I’d hire a hit man.

Nyle had ten minutes. If I stood, I was leaving and not coming back.

I was thirty. Ready to walk down the aisle and eventually breastfeed Roosevelt’s children. Unlike my father, I knew how to be happy. I think.

Tired of Madison Tyler-DuBois interfering with my getting her husband, I added her to Sindy’s shit list. I was about to strip that bitch of her last name like she’d lost an all-or-nothing game of poker. It was time for her to find herself another man. The horrible things she’d done, she should’ve petitioned for their divorce.

Madison was responsible for her husband having been shot, then she’d taken him off the respirator hoping he’d die. God had a different plan. Her soon-to-be ex-husband had survived. And rather than her letting him love me, she’d prefer to keep him and smother his generous forgiving spirit. Her having his baby was the last lucky charm I was going to snatch from her.

Roosevelt had no idea what to do with Madison. Keep her? Let her go? Stay for the baby? Men generally embraced the “Do as I say” philosophy. The women, “Do as I do.” Neither gave a damn about how the other felt as long as the other obeyed. Madison wasn’t the conforming type. Neither was I. I was a true Southern belle born and wrapped in a Republican cloak of cutthroat confidence.

I was soft, only on the outside.

Three minutes.

When I saw on the news that Roosevelt “Chicago” DuBois had been shot three times, I had to find out who wanted him dead and why. Granville pulled the trigger but that imbecile could never mastermind an execution. Right now, I was getting involved with every aspect. That was why I was sitting in this freezing room instead of being outside in the sunny eighty-degree weather.

Nyle stared at me. “Welcome back,” he said.

“Same to you.” I’d drifted into my own world but where had he gone?

“Granville is so dumb he’s actually smart. Tell me what I need to do to walk out of here. I’ll make sure it’s done.”

Nyle’s son was in my I’m Not Locked Up nonprofit program for kids with parents in jail. His son was an amazingly brilliant child. Landry was so impressive that six months ago I accompanied him on a visit here to the Federal Detention Center to meet his father.

I had to know what kind of man could have single-parented a brilliant child then end up behind bars. I’d learned that Nyle had an office downtown. He represented hundreds of clients for a decade. Problem was, he’d never passed the bar. His degree was real. His credentials weren’t valid. How could people retain a lawyer without certifying if the attorney was legit?

I agreed. “Granville is the smartest dumbest person I’ve witnessed as well. Do you know how many inmates represent themselves and get off? Almost none. Hearing Granville question Chaz, watching him get Loretta arrested, seeing him present that sex tape of Madison, made me realize we cannot underestimate this guy. When he degraded Roosevelt on the stand. Made a mockery of my man. That was it. We’ve got to get him to state and I’m not talking about a high school championship. Prison is where Granville belongs.”

“What do I need to do this time?” Nyle asked.

“Tell the guard to inform the warden that Granville Washington is attempting to kill Roosevelt again. Then—”

Shaking his head, Nyle interrupted. “How do you know this?”

“Trust me. I do. All I need you to say is Granville told you this in confidence before his release. Then you must insist that they issue a search warrant for all of his property. His apartment, his car, his mama’s house, and her grave.”

Leaning back, Nyle said, “Her what?”

I was the type of woman who believed in staying three steps ahead of all men. Perhaps Granville wouldn’t do such a thing but the gun hadn’t been found after the shooting. He either knew where it was or now that he was out of jail he had it in his possession. The guy had proven he wasn’t dumb. Playpens, cemeteries, cereal boxes, diaper bags were just a few of the countless places I’d discovered where criminals had hidden weapons.

“You heard me right. Her grave. Her services are tomorrow. If Granville has that gun, he’s going to get rid of it. Tell them to dig up Sarah Lee Washington, search the soil, and her coffin. Roosevelt’s life is dependent on you.” I’d make a few calls later today and have someone secretly videotape Sarah’s funeral from beginning to end.

Roosevelt was a good man. He was the youngest vice president/general manager in the league and we were blessed to have him for our football team. After all the wrong his wife had done to him, he did all the right things for her. A man that wonderful deserved a wife like me.

I didn’t disclose to Nyle the details of what the authorities would find. What my father had done, I was about to undo.

(Continues…)

Excerpted from If You Don’t Know Me by Mary B. Morrison. Copyright © 2014 Mary B. Morrison. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.


If You Don’t Know Me (Book 3: Series If I Can’t Have You)
Books by Mary B. Morrison:  http://www.amazon.com/Mary-B.-Morrison/e/B001ILIDYU 

About Mary B. Morrison  
New York Times bestselling author Mary B. Morrison believes that women should shape their own destiny. Born in Aurora, IL, and raised in New Orleans, LA, she took a chance and quit her near six-figure government job to self-publish her first book, Soulmates Dissipate, in 2000 and begin her literary career.

Mary’s books have appeared on numerous bestseller lists, and she’s a frequent contributor to The Michael Baisden Show. Mary is also actively involved in a variety of philanthropic endeavors, and in 2006 she sponsored the publication of an anthology written by 33 sixth-graders.

In 2010, Mary produced a play based on her novel, Single Husbands, which she wrote under her pseudonym, HoneyB. In addition to her novels and play, Mary has a multi-film development deal with Codeblack Entertainment for her Soulmates Dissipate series.

Mary currently resides in Oakland, CA, with her wonderful son, Jesse Byrd, Jr., who is following in his mother’s creative footsteps and pursuing a career in TV/film and writing. Visit Mary’s website at www.marymorrison.com


The Series in Order of Publication

Book 3: If You Don’t Know Me
Book 2: I’d Rather Be With You
Book 1: If I Can’t Have You

Purchase the entire series today!

 
 
 
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