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Category Archives: Book Excerpts

Endgame (Endgame Trilogy Book 1) by Tiye Love



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ENDGAME:  AMAZON
GAME TIME:  AMAZON
GAME CHANGER:  AMAZON

 

TIYE LOVE recalled reading romance ever since she was a young child and would sneak and read the Western love stories her grandmother kept on her bedside table. Although she didn’t understand half of the words she read at the time, something about those books captured her attention. As she grew older, her love of romance expanded to other genres, and she became a fan of anything remotely related to reading and books, such as libraries, bookstores, and the coffeeshop around the corner.

She loves to travel and has lived in several cities, including New Orleans, Washington D.C., and Houston, and finds inspiration for her stories from every place she has had the fortune to visit or inhabit.

When Tiye is not obsessed with her latest characters, she spends time with herself, family, and friends doing whatever she can to create her best life possible.

CONNECT WITH TIYE LOVE:  AUTHOR SITE | FACEBOOK | INSTAGRAM

 

 


 


 

Endgame (Endgame Trilogy Book 1) by Tiye Love

Psychologist Dr. Zoe Broussard has always been a no-nonsense, play by the rules woman until she meets her new client. From the moment the impossibly gorgeous Michael Carson walks into her office, she finds herself dangerously drawn to him and irrevocably hooked.

Michael is an NFL quarterback with a multi-million-dollar contract and a penchant for breaking hearts. He’s used to getting what he wants, and he’s determined to tempt his hot new therapist into exploring the obvious passion between them. Even though there’s another man in her life.

Can Zoe resist Michael’s charms and her growing feelings for him? More importantly, is she willing to risk everything for a man who may not be there tomorrow?

 

 

Excerpt: Endgame (Endgame Trilogy Book 1) by Tiye Love

It had been four days since the party, and I had refused all calls and texts from him. He had sent a diamond and emerald bracelet, which was my birthstone, delivered to the office in a beautifully wrapped box yesterday. I didn’t know he even knew when my birthday was. Surprisingly, Michael did not show up at the office during his appointment time. I admit a part of me was disappointed, but a part of me felt relief that maybe now I could let go of him. I thought he had given up until I saw him sitting outside of my house.

He had the first official game of the season tomorrow, so I thought he wouldn’t contact me again until afterward. I missed him terribly, and the fact that tomorrow was important for his career, but he still wanted to see me, was breaking my resolve. I began pacing because I didn’t know what else to do.

“Babe, please stop. You’ve got to believe me, I did not plan or want her to be there. She surprised me.”

I unlocked and opened my door, but before I could close it in his face, he pushed himself inside. He walked to my open living area and watched me with a frown.

I remained at the door. “Please leave. I don’t want you here.”

“Come on. You don’t mean it,” he reasoned. “Why are you so upset? You have a man.”

“Are you serious? You know what, you’re playing games. I have been honest about my relationship with Xavier. If you’d told me about her, at least I wouldn’t have been blindsided by the two of you. She walked around as if you bought your house together and you didn’t seem to mind. If I knew you were back together, at least I would have been prepared and wouldn’t have made a fool out of myself in the pantry with you!”

“What was I supposed to do? I never told her that we were back together. I wanted to be with you, but you’re too worried about being seen with me.” He came closer, and I stiffened.

“Did you get the bracelet I sent you? Did you like it?”

“I received it and I would have returned it if I knew where to send it.”

He looked hurt, which almost made me relent, and then I thought about him kissing Taylor after being in the pantry with me, which angered me all over again. “I don’t want you here. I would ask how you found me, but you know what, I don’t care!” I screamed the last words. “Leave. Leave!” I stomped around like a two-year-old having a tantrum.

He stood in place, looking slightly amused instead of worried now. “I’m not leaving until we talk.”

“I don’t want to hear the shit you have to say. You’re wasting your time.”

“Am I? I didn’t know you cursed so much,” he said with humor before saying calmly, “Come here.”

“Are you kidding me? I want you out!” I headed back toward my front door.

He called to me again. “If I’m wasting my time, come here and prove it.”

I didn’t turn around and stopped at my door. “Prove what?”

“If you don’t want me anymore, look me in my face and tell me.”

“I don’t want you,” I said, barely looking him in the eye.

“I’m going to walk out that door and never bother you again if you come here and look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me anymore.”

I looked at him then. “Okay.” I didn’t move.

“Come here,” he said with a smile, his dimples showing. Read the rest of this entry »

 

Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak (Book II, Detective Maxine Hill Series)

 

Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak (Book II, Detective Maxine Hill Series)

Young Detective Maxine Hill is always busy performing community service, investigating issues, and exploring future careers. However, Maxine is facing a special challenge this year. This time it’s very personal. Follow our little problem solver as she finds a solution for a unique situation. Detective Maxine HIll is on the case again and she’s on the way back! If you enjoyed Maxine’s New Job, you will like Book II of the series; Maxine Listens.

 

Book Excerpt: Maxine Listens

 

One afternoon Maxine Hill began to notice some changes in her vision during her math class. Her teacher, Mr. Norman, was explaining a process on the whiteboard and his writing was completely blurred. She knew she would eventually grow tired of asking Mr. Norman to repeat the instructions, even the ones written on the board. Maxine finally asked to be moved closer to the front of the class. After a few weeks she realized the new seating arrangement did not seem to be helping. Mr. Norman had also noticed her squinting her eyes on several occasions and decided to call Maxine’s mother, Mrs. Hill, and discuss the situation.

“Mr. Norman, I am so glad you brought this to our attention. I am noticing how Max has to adjust her glasses several times when we are working on a puzzle, playing Scrabble, or watching a movie. I’ll call our ophthalmologist and make an appointment immediately,” said Mrs. Hill.

Maxine did not like the sound of that. She did not enjoy visits to the doctor’s office, especially when her eyes had to be dilated.

“Oh no, not another eye appointment,” Maxine uttered in a slow moan. “The eye drops don’t hurt Mom, but the ride home is rough because the sun seems extra bright after my eyes are dilated.”

“I know honey, but Dr. Chambers has to look inside those beautiful brown eyes to see what’s going on,” Mrs. Hill replied.

Maxine smiled.

That night, Maxine sat on the couch with her Dad watching TV. When she briefly took her eyes off the screen she caught a glimpse of her cat, Amos. He was sitting on her mother’s favorite chair.

“Shoo Amos! Get down from there!” Maxine waved. Amos scurried off the chair onto the floor. “Wow!” she shouted, “I am so glad tomorrow is Friday! It’s been a busy week at school and I’m looking forward to enjoying the weekend.”

“Well,” replied Mrs. Hill, tapping her foot against the carpet, “if you want to enjoy the weekend then you better head upstairs and get ready for bed. It’s a school night. Do you know what time it is young lady?”

“Please Mom!” Maxine begged, “It’s only 9:30 and tomorrow is Friday.”

“I know honey,” said Mrs. Hill as she sat down on her favorite chair, “but you need all the rest you can get because we have your early morning appointment with Dr. Chambers. I have your doctor’s note prepared for the attendance office tomorrow explaining your late arrival, so go upstairs and get ready for bed. Right now!”

“OK Mom. I can’t believe I forgot all about my eye appointment. Nighty-night, Dad,” Maxine said reluctantly, dragging her feet across the floor and adjusting her glasses.

“What did you say Max?” Mr. Hill asked.

“I said . . . NIGHTY-NIGHT, DAD!” Maxine raised her voice and laughed.

Mr. Hill nodded and smiled as Maxine gave him a big hug, scooped up Amos and ran up the stairs. The next morning, Maxine and Mrs. Hill left early to avoid the traffic which seemed to swell between 6:30 am and 8:00 am, especially during the weekdays. Maxine noticed the construction workers drilling and operating the huge cranes as they passed the detour signs. The highway was filled with red dust blowing from the machinery.

“Mom, when are they going to finish this interstate? They have been working on this since I was in second grade,” said Maxine with a frown on her face. Mrs. Hill smiled, “Baby, you might be a senior in high school before it’s completed. Road construction sometimes lasts for years.” Maxine sighed, put her head back on the seat, closed her eyes and listened to her favorite musical group on the radio for the remainder of the ride.

After arriving at the doctor’s office, Maxine sat on the red leather chair next to Dr. Chambers’ rack of magazines, and began looking over the latest issues. Hmm, where are the kid’s magazines? I don’t want to read the Ladies Home Journal, thought Maxine. As soon as she found a copy of Sports Illustrated for Kids with an interesting article named “Girls on The Mound,” the receptionist walked into the patient waiting area with a folder in her hand and announced, “Maxine Hill.”

“OK Max, that’s us,” said Mrs. Hill.

Moments later, Maxine sat quietly as Dr. Chambers began his eye exam. “Max, your mom says you have been having some vision problems in class lately.”

“Yes, mostly in math class when I’m looking back and forth from the whiteboard to my notebook,” answered Maxine.

“Well, your exam shows no serious vision concerns, but your prescription needs to be upgraded for another pair of glasses. This is not unusual for your nearsightedness. We will discuss contacts as you get older. Until then, you will be just fine. However, I would like to see you in six months,” explained Dr. Chambers.

Mrs. Hill smiled and thanked Dr. Chambers. Maxine shook Dr. Chambers’ hand and walked out to the receptionist’s counter while her mom waited on the instructions for the next appointment. A few minutes later they left the doctor’s office and headed for B. H. Obama Elementary School.

As they walked to the car, Maxine said, “Mom, I saw some cool, round purple frames in the 20-20 Optical Store window in the mall last week. Can we take my new prescription there this weekend and see if they can measure them for me?”

“We sure can Max. It’s a deal,” Mrs. Hill gleamed.

( Continued… )

© 2019 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Dr. Lynda Mubarak. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

 

 

Maxine Listens by Dr. Lynda Mubarak will be released on March 23, 2019
Picture Book for ages 6-10. Genre: Children’s Literature
Purchase books:  https://www.amazon.com/Lynda-Mubarak/e/B01ELLYYGO

 

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Something New: An Interracial Romance by Janie De Coster

Follow the journey of an interracial couple who are not only from different worlds but worlds that goes beyond the color of their skin.

 

Tobias Benton – a handsome, white rich and successful businessman who is soon to inherit his father’s billion dollar company. Tobias has been dating Sharon English, a beautiful and wealthy lady who owns several Art Galleries. From the world point of view, they are the Barbie and Ken couple who are destined to marry and have a wonderful life together that is until…..

Brylane Robinson – a beautiful, bright and intelligent black sister who lives in the housing projects on the South side of Chicago, steps into the picture. Brylane fights for survival and a better life for herself in the hood.

One morning on her way to work, a handsome man literally runs into her. When their eyes met so did their hearts. Will Brylane and Tobias venture into Something New?

 

Book Reviews – Something New: An Interracial Romance

 

Bayoubabe 5.0 out of 5 stars Oooh weeee!!!
What a hot story. The drama has me reeling. When a man has a crazy obsessive witch on his trail, his life is pure hell. Tobias Benton is finding out just how evil Sharon can be when she does not get her way. His poor mother Carolyn is just as sad by staying with his philandering father James for years.

CJM 5.0 out of 5 stars Enjoyed Something New
Looking forward to part 2. Definitely looking forward to you putting an end to Sharon’s shenanigans and for Tobias and Brylane to get together. I must say my two problems was Tobias and Toby… the same name to me…also I would love to see at least one other black male character doing well besides Demetrius…Brylane’s brother…like Desmond…maybe he can become more than what he is and not be murdered or go to prison…turning a negative lifestyle into a positive one. Don’t make me wait too long for part 2…thanks

LadyBurger 5.0 out of 5 stars Surprising read
I thought I wouldn’t like it but loved it!! Very well written and the plot draws you in. The family in drama on both sides keeps you on the edge. Can wait for the follow-up.

 

 

EXCERPT: Something New: An Interracial Romance by Janie De Coster

Brylane treated herself to a nice hot bath. Then, she put on her favorite pink cotton pajamas and got into bed. Her mind began a replay of the day’s events. Mr. Tobias Benton was certainly at the top of the list. Closing her eyes, she envisioned his handsome face, those deep blue eyes of his staring down into hers as the wind blew through his short wavy hair. Her breath quickened as she thought about his lips and what it would have felt like to kiss them. Turning over on her stomach, she propped her chin up on her soft pillow. Sighing, she wondered, was Vonita right? Could such a man be really into her?

Somehow, she just couldn’t accept the fact as easily. After all, they were from two entirely different worlds. Vonita saw things through a different set of lenses because of how she was raised. Here in the hood, if a white man looked your way, it was either because you owed him some money, or it was the Po Po locking your ass up. Brylane tossed and turned. Her mind continued to race, scrutinizing her attraction to this man and wondering if anything would come of it.

After several attempts at reaching the Sandman, she gave up. Sitting up in bed, she reached over to her nightstand and retrieved the remote, turning on her nineteen-inch TV. She surfed the channels, hoping to find a good movie to take her mind off of the handsome man. Finally, she found an old love story, and she began to immerse herself into the storyline. The lovesick woman ran into the arms of the knight in shining armor, and the next thing Brylane remembered was her mom waking her up to a phone call.

Pulling the covers over her head, she murmured to her mom to tell Vonita she was tired and would call her tomorrow.

“Honey, it’s not Vonita.” Frances sighed nudging her again. Brylane let out a soft groan but made no attempt of getting up.

“It’s some man. He says his name is Tobias,” Frances said, looking down into her daughter’s sleepy face. Brylane’s eyes popped open like a dollar store doll. She pulled the covers away from her body and jumped out of bed. Is this really happening, she thought as she ran to the phone. She paused for a brief moment, cleared her throat, and took in a whiff of air. Exhaling slowly, she picked up the kitchen phone.

“Hello.” She greeted in a low tone.

“Good evening, Brylane. I’m sorry to call so late. I had a business meeting that lasted longer than I expected. I didn’t wake you, did I?” Tobias asked pleasantly.

“Oh no. I was… just watching an old movie on TV,” she uttered softly. For a brief moment, there was total silence on both ends of the line.

Tobias spoke up as he asked, “Are you free tomorrow? I… uh… would love to take you out to dinner… if that’s possible.”

Brylane felt light as a feather. She couldn’t believe he was actually asking her out.

“Um… sure. That would be nice,” Brylane found herself saying. Tobias let out a sigh of relief. He’d never been so nervous about asking a girl out since high school. He was hoping she would accept his invitation, and she had.

“Is seven okay?” he asked.

“Um… yes,” she answered slowly.

“Great, I’ll see you at seven then,” Tobias said. Brylane was about to hang up when she heard his voice again.

“Wait, Brylane. I think it would help me out a lot if I knew where you lived.” He chuckled lightly.

. Brylane’s blood began to run cold. Here it is, truth or dare, she thought. I might as well come clean here and now. That way he can let me down easily, and I could go on with my life.

“I… um… live on the east side of town…Village Town Apartments on Riverdale, apartment 5 B,” she stammered. There was another awkward silence as she waited for the letdown she knew was coming.

“Alright. I’ll be there at seven. You have a good evening, and enjoy your movie.”

And with that, he hung up. Brylane slowly placed the phone back on its cradle. She looked over at her mom who was standing in front of her with a blank look on her face.

“I have a date tomorrow!” Brylane squealed as she hugged her quickly and then ran back into her bedroom. Brylane had a smile on her face that could outshine the glorious sun. That is… until a little voice whispered into her ear, a nice dinner and your car repaired. After that, you will never hear from him again. Her smile slowly faded as she fell into a deeply troubled sleep.

( Continued… )

© 2019 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Janie De Coster. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author’s written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

 

Purchase Something New: An Interracial Romance by Janie De Coster
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07DBCJVYQ

 

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Survival Math: Notes on an All-American Family by Mitchell S. Jackson

Mitchell S. Jackson is the author of Survival Math. His debut novel The Residue Years was praised by publications, including The New York Times, The Paris Review, and The Times (London). The novel won the Ernest Gaines Prize for Literary Excellence, and it was also a finalist for the Center for Fiction’s Flaherty-Dunnan First Novel Prize, the PEN/Hemingway Award for First Fiction, and the Hurston/Wright Legacy Award. Jackson’s honors include fellowships from the Whiting Foundation, TED, the Lannan Foundation, the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and the Center for Fiction. His writing has appeared in The New York Times Book Review, Salon, and Tin House, among other publications. He serves on the faculty at New York University and Columbia University.

Survival Math: Notes on an All-American Family by award-winning author Mitchell S. Jackson. Survival Math is about the calculations Mitchell made to survive his youth in 1990s Northeast Portland, and we wanted to reach out to you because it is absolutely perfect for book club discussion. The book explores difficult topics—addiction and gun play, masculinity and near-death experiences—all framed within the stories of the author and his family’s experiences in Portland. But of course, the book is about something much bigger than one family. Mitchell illuminates the forces that led his family and his community to this point, from the Great Migration to gentrification, and he does so with humor and style.

So far, the book has been praised by some of the most talented writers on the planet. Two-time National Book Award winner Jesmyn Ward called the book “virtuosic.” Author of Orange Is the New Black Piper Kerman says Survival Math is “an unforgettable mix of sharp humor, wide interrogation, and indelible tragedy.” Pulitzer Prize winning poet Terrance Hayes says Mitchell’s “insights into how black men survive become insights of everyone’s survival.”

 

 

Excerpt: Survival Math

Survival Math EXODUS

My exodus occurs after years wandering the wilderness of my hometown, the crucible that included working a part-time, and only-time, gig at the Oregonian’s downtown insert facility stacking pallet after pallet of inky-ass newspapers. For bread to live. For bread to leave. The day in question, I got a phone call from someone who, for the love (and just maybe his liberty), I’ll call Brother A. Brother A called me to plead a ride to his apartment in the burbs to sweep for dope after his dope-dealing roommate, a dude who’d already done a nickel in the pen on a drug charge (which, by the way, is not judgment, but context), had just got knocked by the Feds. Brother A explained he needed the ride because his main squeeze had wrecked his Jeep, and he couldn’t think of anyone more fitting than me, of all people on God’s verdant earth, me, to be the one to shuttle him.

Heeeeeelllll no! That should have been my answer. But that was not my answer. My answer tugged me out of my job at the end of my shift and into the forest-evergreen Lexus I’d bought in the bygone unblessed days when I sold more than weed. It sent me bolting out of my job and into my ride to swoop Brother A from someplace close and hit Highway 26 with most dubious sense.

Guessing now is as good a time as ever to mention that this was the age during which I might’ve been selling weed—twenty sacks, eighths, half and whole zips, and in the most blessed of times, half and whole pounds. Selling chronic, stacking newspapers, and throwing parties because evermore this brother, a brother, every brother should diversify his hustle. No mights or maybes to that.

Memories from that age, hypothetical and otherwise, seldom feature date stamps, but I can assure you this incident occurred May 2002 AD, which I know for truth because one of my homeboys and me had just thrown a well-attended Memorial Day shindig, and between my cut of the door and profits from the weed I may have been selling, I had a knot of bills in my inky work jeans—which accounts for why at the time I was feeling at least extra medium about myself. Brother A and I traded lightweight banter en route, and before I knew it, we’d reached his apartment complex, grounds of such expanse, there was plenty of time for my pulse to cease between the moment I pulled into the lot and when I found a place to park my tree-colored ride. Can’t speak for Brother A, but in that interstice of arriving and stepping a wary foot out of my ride, I had visions of police swarming us from bushes and vans, seizing discomfited me, slamming my cheek against unforgiving asphalt, and KABLOWING! on cuffs.

We did not—word to Yahweh—get ambushed that moment. We hustled past a passel of blithe youngsters and mounted a flight and a flight and a flight of stairs and stood at the threshold of his apartment door (my heart athunder) and asked each other again and for the last time if we should enter, which, inhale, of course we did.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

No one was inside. Good sense says I should’ve left Brother A to brave his fate alone but instead I sat on the living room couch while he proceeded to sweep his roommate’s room and the hall closets and every place else he could think to look. He didn’t find any meth, but he did find cooking supplies and utensils, which he took straight to the kitchen to scrub and scour. Meanwhile, I sat on the living room couch doing my best impression of ecclesiastical calm.

“Man, I can’t believe we was so spooked,” I said.

“Yeah, we silly,” he said. “Like the police worried about us.”

He paused and motioned at me. “Shit, I almost forgot. Come check this out.” This is when Brother A led me to his bedroom, pulled a pound of weed from a stash spot, and flaunted a sample. “This some killer,” he said. “Smell it.” What may or may not have happened next now seems like an act of intercession bestowed by my great-grandmama or some other churchgoing kin. That act, amen, was using my shirt to grab the plastic bag and inspect a few fluffy, sticky, fragrant stems. I put the weed back and mentioned how fast it would sell and may or may not have asked him if he could cop for me.

He and I strolled back into the living room—me to the couch and Brother A back to washing possible evidence down the drain. Seconds later I heard footsteps on the stairs. PATTER, PATTER, PATTER! Heard them and said to myself, Here come those kids. PATTER, PATTER, PATTER, PATTER! Thought to myself, Wow, them some heavy-footed-ass kids. PATTER, PATTER, PATTER, PATTER, PATTER! Mused, Boy, there must be more kids than I thought. That’s when Brother A hustled over to the peephole, said, “Oh, shit! POLICE!” and broke for his bedroom.

Before I could move, a mob of police, sheriff, and DEA bum-rushed into Brother A’s crib. “Get on the ground! Get on the ground now! Keep your hands where we can see them! Get down! Get down!”

Oh. My. God! I thought, and dropped to my knees then prostrate.

Brother A darted into the living room and ranted, “Let me see your warrant. Let me see your warrant,” and in an instant, they spun him face to wall and cuffed him. One officer jerked me off the carpet and asked if I was carrying drugs, if I had anything in my pockets that might cut or poke him. No, I said. And he emptied my pockets, beheld my cell phone and pager and the knot of cash—most of which, let me remind you, I’d made from my Memorial Day shindig and some of which I may or may not have made from serving fat sacks of chronic. More officers appeared, one of them tugging a stout German shepherd. That same officer informed me that if the dog hit on anything from my pockets, he’d confiscate it. Read the rest of this entry »

 

Stiletto Justice by Camryn King 

 

A successful businesswoman who used to live by the rules. A struggling single mother whose best is never good enough.  A gorgeous rebel who lost by playing it safe.  Each has a man unjustly sentenced to long prison terms by former prosecutor Hammond Grey.  They’ve tried every legal remedy to get justice—only to see Hammond climb ever higher up the political ladder and secure himself behind power and privilege.
So when Kim, Jayda, and Harley meet by sheer chance, they’ve got no options left. Now it’s time for them to launch Plan B. And they won’t stop at infiltrating Hammond’s elite world and turning all his advantages into tempting traps. Because playing his weakness is the ultimate payback—and the kind of lethal justice they’ll gamble everything to get…

 

An Excerpt of STILETTO JUSTICE by Camryn King 

Prologue 

 

“Is he dead?”

 

“I don’t know, but seeing that lying trap of a mouth shut is a nice change of pace.”

 

Kim Logan, Harley Buchanan, and Jayda Sanchez peered down at the lifeless body of the United States senator from Kansas, Hammond Grey.

 

“I agree he looks better silent,” Kim mused, while mentally willing his chest to move. “But I don’t think prison garb will improve my appearance.”

 

“Move, guys.” Jayda, who’d hung in the background, pushed Harley aside to get closer. She stuck a finger under his nose. “He’s alive, but I don’t know how long he’ll be unconscious. Whatever we’re going to do needs to happen fast.”

 

“Fine with me.” Harley stripped off her jacket and unzipped her jeans. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get the hell out of here.”

 

“I’m with you,” Kim replied. Her hands shook as she unsnapped the black leather jacket borrowed from her husband and removed her phone from its inside pocket. “Jayda, start taking his clothes off.”

 

“Why me?” Jayda whispered. “I don’t want to touch him.”

 

“That’s why you’re wearing gloves,” Harley hissed back. “Look, if I can bare my ass for the world to see, the least you can do is pull his pants down. Where’s that wig?”

 

Kim showed more sympathy as she pointed toward the bag holding a brunette-colored hair transformer. “Jayda, I understand completely. I don’t even want to look at his penis, let alone capture it on video.”

Read the rest of this entry »

 

Don’t Be Afraid to Care by Annette Leeds


Taking care of someone you love in a time of need can be sometimes scary. I wanted to share some words of wisdom about being there for someone.

 

When my sister, Theresa, received her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer, many things ran through my mind. But, the one question that stuck with me the most was, “Who would take care of her?” She was a single-career woman; she had the financial means, but would I want a stranger taking care of my sister in her last days? In the beginning, I was nervous, but soon the urge to help far outweighed the fear.

There never was a question in my mind. I knew I would step in and be there for her. I kept a journal of our time together, knowing when she was gone I would have those memories. Yet, the memories I took away were more than I could have ever imagined; something that can never be replaced.

I can remember her worrying about me and how my taking care of her might take a toll on me. Even without any experience of caring for someone, I knew it was the best thing for her and our family. She moved in with me and that precious time we had changed my life forever.

I put aside my fears of caring for my terminally ill sister, and embraced the journey; giving my sister laughter, love and dignity until her last breath.

— Annette

The Other Side of Cancer: Living Life with My Dying Sister by Annette Leeds
Kindle Download Link: http://a.co/d/jgahyBv

 

Support for Caregivers of Cancer Patients
https://www.cancer.gov/about-cancer/coping/caregiver-support

World Pancreatic Cancer Day

November 15, 2018. Pancreatic cancer is one of the world’s deadliest cancers, and we need more attention, awareness and progress to help patients fight and survive this disease. Join us on Thursday, November 15, to Demand Better in the fight against the world’s toughest cancer.

LEARN MORE AND SUPPORT: http://www.worldpancreaticcancerday.org/about-pancreatic-cancer

 

 

About the Author
Annette Leeds is a literary journalist. Born Annette Marie Guardino to her mother who is Belgium and father who is Sicilian, she is a native Californian and the youngest of six children.

Being quite creative, Annette’s strong desire to write led her to her first book, a psychological drama, followed by two television comedy scripts. She has had other entrepreneurial ventures, including a logo sportswear clothing line.

#annetteleeds, #memoirs, #caretaking, #find1cure, #grief, #love, #pancreaticcancer, #sisters

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4:  Better Late Than Never by Kimberla Lawson Roby

The deepest, darkest secrets of Reverend Curtis Black are revealed at last!

Curtis Black is no stranger to scandal. Throughout the decades, he as done much in the public eye, both good and evil. But what most people don’t realize is that Curtis has been hiding an abusive childhood that has affected him in horrifying ways.

Sadly, when his estranged sister becomes alarmingly ill, his buried past returns without warning, and his youngest daughter, twelve-year-old Curtina, becomes the kind of problem child he never thought she could be…and this is only the beginning.

Worse, all the public scandals they’ve experienced over the years now seem like mere child’s play compared to the turmoil they are facing in private. And who could have known that their deepest wounds would come from within?

 

 

Chapter 4:  Better Late Than Never by Kimberla Lawson Roby

Curtis was a nervous wreck. He and Charlotte had just parked in his sister’s driveway, gotten out of his SUV, and walked up to the beautiful brick home. Charlotte grabbed Curtis’s hand, squeezing it tighter than usual, and Curtis rang the doorbell. During the drive there, he’d said a number of silent prayers, trying to calm his thinking and uneasiness, but now his heart beat faster and faster, and he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain his composure. Charlotte looked up at him. “Everything is going to be fine. You did the right thing by coming here.”

Curtis continued holding Charlotte’s hand, still attempting to calm his nerves, and finally his brother-in-law, Jason, opened the door. He smiled. “I’m so glad you made it. Please come in.” Curtis hugged Jason, as did Charlotte, but then he saw a young man in his mid-twenties walking toward them. He knew it was his nephew, Eric.

“It’s good to see you, Uncle Curtis.”

“It’s good to see you, too, son.” Curtis hadn’t known how either of Trina’s children was going to react when they saw him—especially when they’d known for years that their mom had wanted nothing to do with Curtis—but here Eric had even called him uncle. Curtis looked at Jason. “So, does she still not know about me coming?”

“This morning I told her that she was going to have a surprise visitor this afternoon, but that was it.”

“Well, I just hope that seeing me doesn’t upset her too much. Because we all know how she feels.”

“I know,” Jason said, “but things are different now. And she’s different…because of what she’s going through.” Curtis nodded, and then he, Charlotte, and Eric followed Jason down a long, shiny wooden corridor and around a corner. They stopped in front of a door that Jason lightly knocked on and eased open. A beautiful lady in her early thirties stood up from a recliner, and just as Curtis had known right away who Eric was, he knew this was his niece, Amber. She was the spitting image of her mother, and Curtis had to stop himself from crying.

“Is she awake, sweetie?” Jason asked his daughter, and then he looked over at his wife, lying in the king-size bed, propped against two pillows.

Amber walked closer to where all of them were standing. “She is.”

“How are you?” Curtis asked her.

“I’m okay, Uncle Curtis,” she said, with sad eyes and hugging him. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Me too,” he said, and once Amber hugged Charlotte, Curtis moved closer to the side of the bed and saw Trina watching him. Her skin was a bit pale, dark circles outlined her eyes, and although her hair appeared soft and curly, it wasn’t longer than half an inch. Curtis guessed that as a result of her chemo treatments, she had likely cut it. Because from the time she’d been a child, she’d had gorgeous thick, wavy hair.

Curtis half smiled at his sister, still not knowing what to expect. “I hope you don’t mind our coming to see you.”

To his surprise, Trina smiled back. “I don’t, and it’s good to see you, Curtis. I mean really, really good to see you.”

Curtis had never felt more relieved about anything than he did currently. He’d been so prepared for his sister to turn away and ask him to leave, yet she’d done just the opposite. Curtis leaned down and hugged her, and she held him as well. Then she and Charlotte embraced.

“Thank you for coming, Charlotte,” Trina told her. “I really appreciate it.”

Charlotte smiled. “Of course.”

Curtis wasn’t sure what to say next, and apparently no one else did, either, because the room fell silent. But finally, Jason spoke. “Why don’t you both have a seat? And can we get either of you something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine, but thank you,” Curtis said.

“I’ll take some iced tea, if you have it,” Charlotte added.

Amber smiled. “Well, hopefully my baby brother hasn’t drunk all of it. Because that’s what he usually does.”

“Whatever, girl,” Eric said, laughing. “You just made a huge pitcher of it this morning, so who could drink all of that, anyway?”

“You,” she said, and everyone laughed.

“Well, for your information, there’s plenty left.”

Amber playfully punched her brother on his shoulder and then looked at Charlotte. “I’ll pour you a glass now.”

“Why don’t I come with you?” Charlotte said, already following Amber. “That way Curtis and Trina can spend some time together.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Jason added, and he and Eric followed the two women out of the room. Curtis continued standing, just wanting to look at his sister. She stared back at him, but since neither of them seemed to know what to say, Curtis asked her a question. “Do you mind if I pray for you?”

“No, not at all.”

Curtis held Trina’s left hand with his right one. “Dear Heavenly Father, I come before you right now, first thanking You for another day, and most of all, thanking You for allowing me the opportunity to reunite with my sister. Thank You for answering my prayers. Then, Lord, I now ask that You would please remove all pain and discomfort that my sister is experiencing and that You would heal her body completely. Lord, please make her whole again. Please allow her illness to only serve as a test that will ultimately become her great testimony. And if there is anything that we can do here on earth to help her, Lord, please speak to our hearts, our minds, and our souls. Please give us the wisdom we need, along with total direction. Because while we know that the prognosis Trina has been given doesn’t look good to us as human beings, we also know that only You have the final say. So, Lord, I am asking You to heal Your child. I am asking You to perform one of Your awesome miracles on my dear, sweet sister. Lord, we ask this and all other blessings in Your Son Jesus’s name. Amen. Amen. Amen.”

“Amen,” Trina said, opening her tear-filled eyes and holding her brother’s hand a bit more securely than before. “Thank you for praying for me, and…” Her voice trailed off, as she took a deep breath and swallowed tears. “Well…I just want you to know just how sorry I am. How truly sorry I am for everything.” Read the rest of this entry »

 
 
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