The Writing World According to Dwan Abrams

Editor's Rant

2011-10-04T12:22:00.002-05:00

As a freelance editor, there's nothing more frustrating than reading a story that lacks focus, has underdeveloped characters, or reads like a draft. Too often authors finish the last sentence of their first draft and immediately think they are ready to work with an editor. That's not the case. The editor's role isn't to rewrite the story, or give the author a crash course in the art of writing. No, no, no. Novel writing is a lot like baking a cake. The story idea makes up the ingredients. Writing the first draft is mixing the ingredients together. Rewriting and tweaking the storyline is the baking process. Turning the manuscript over to the editor is the icing on the cake. The icing completes the cake by giving it a better presentation and a sweeter taste, but even without it, the cake is still edible.

New authors often make the mistake of thinking that writing is a solo effort. That's not true. Creating a great story requires input from other writers and readers. Writers should belong to a writers or critique group. The honest and raw feedback provided from the group will help one grow as a writer.

Writers definitely need to hone their skills by taking writing related courses, attending writing workshops, and reading craft books. I get embarrassed for authors who don't take the time to learn their craft. They are doing themselves and their readers a disservice. An author should be familiar with terms like: allegory, alliteration, antagonist, character, dialogue, flashback, genre, hyperbole, irony, metaphor, motif, narrator, point of view, protagonist, setting, simile, and theme. When an editor tells an author that they are "head-hopping" throughout the manuscript, or add tone/expression, or vary up the sentence structure, the author should know what the editor means.

Another big thing with new authors is telling instead of showing. Too much telling makes a manuscript feel rushed. Manuscripts should flow and have a rhythm. Also, characters should not be robotic, they should be placed in scenes emotionally.

I could go on and on, but it would take way more detail than I'd be able to provide on a blog. Therefore, if you're serious about being a writer, take the time to study the craft and hone your skills. Don't rush to finish your manuscript. Take your time and write a quality piece. It'll save you time, money, and heartache on the back end. You may be wondering how can that be. I'll tell you. If you want to be traditionally published, a quality manuscript could save you time from being rejected over and over again. If you hire an editor to clean up a poorly written manuscript, the price goes way up. The heartache comes in from having your work rejected repeatedly.

Should you decide to self-publish without putting in the work on your manuscript, you may be forced to pull your poorly written book and rewrite it. That would take time, cost you money, and break your heart.

Some of the best writers are students. They are always learning. Whether in a classroom or independent study, they are open to learning, and you should be too.

Writing Workshop

2011-08-09T20:28:00.002-05:00

What's New

2011-07-09T18:16:00.002-05:00

Last week I went to New Orleans to participate in the First Annual Bayou Soul Writers Conference. I'm usually skeptical about first year conferences, BUT I must admit that Clarence Nero did a wonderful job with that conference. I had a great time catching up with some writer friends, as well as forming some new relationships. And of course, any reason to go to New Orleans is a good one. So thumbs up to the Bayou. I'd definitely attend again.

Random

2011-04-21T22:15:00.002-05:00

This past week, I had the pleasure of attending the 2nd Annual Book Clubs Unite in Jackson, MS. I enjoyed spending time with book clubs that I already had relationships with, as well as getting introduced to new book clubs.

The support of book clubs should never be underestimated or taken for granted. As a writer, I get so much joy out of attending book club meetings and events. I find myself forging literary friendships and spending a whole lot of time laughing and eating.

Just to give you a glimpse of the fun I had at this particular event, I'll give you some of the highlights. My literary husband and I revealed our writing collaboration, and the book club members loved it! They're already asking when is it coming out. On a funny note, one of the book club members got her shoe hooked in the cuff of her pants and tumbled in a very cutesy way to the ground. After I found out that she was all right, I laughed so hard my side hurt. Where's a video camera when you need one? That was simply priceless.

Seriously, though, I'm thankful to God to be at this point in my literary career. I've come so far, yet I have so much to look forward to. God is so good! And that's not a cliche'. That's for real, real.

Writing Process

2011-03-01T17:32:00.004-05:00

As a full-time writer, I get many people asking me what is my process to creating a book. I usually laugh at that question. Not because it's funny; simply because there's nothing mystical or magical about the creative process. I don't have candles lit or music playing in the background. I will say that more often than not I'm in my pajamas and robe drinking a cup of green tea with my lap desk and laptop. Then I just write. Sometimes in silence, othertimes with the TV on low.

If my muse is visiting, then it's a great writing day. I can easily get a few thousand words written. Those are the days I boast on FB or Twitter that I've written 3,000 or more words.

I like to write when I don't feel the pressure of a deadline. Having deadlines isn't the problem. It's the procrastination leading up to the deadline that becomes a problem. When my publisher gives me a date to have my next book turned in, the date seems so far away. So instead of writing a little every day, I slack off, thinking I have plenty of time to get it done. Pretty soon, one year becomes six months, six months becomes three months, three months becomes a few weeks, and I still have 55,000 words to write. Pressure. And with pressure comes a little thing called writer's block.

Writer's block always seems to come at the most inopportune times, causing more stress than a little bit. Insomnia is often a result. Staying up half the night wouldn't be so bad, if the creative juices were flowing. Since halting the creative flow is writer's block's job, it becomes frustrating to say the least.

The next question would be how do I overcome writer's block? After many sleepless nights and feelings of anxiety, I force myself to write something...anything. Most of the time it's a slow start, but it's a start. If I'm still having problems, I start talking to my characters, hoping and praying that they talk back to me. At some point, they talk back.

Although I'm elated when my characters talk to me, they tend to change the story quite a bit from the original concept, making my pitch to my editor obsolete. My synopsis almost always has to be changed. Nonetheless, the book gets written, and I celebrate with a sparkly drink. Cheers!

Book Tour Schedule

2011-01-23T23:23:00.004-05:00

2011 Events

April 9
Barnes & Noble--Cumberland, Local Author Day Book Signing, 2952 Cobb Parkway, Atlanta, GA 30339
1:30 p.m.-4:30 p.m.

April 16
2nd Annual Mississippi Book Clubs Unite, Old Capitol Museum, 100 South State Street, Jackson, MS
1:00-4:00 p.m.

April 23
Black Bestsellers Bash, Auburn Avenue Research Library, 101 Auburn Avenue NE, Atlanta, GA
2:00 p.m.-4:00 p.m.

April 29-31
Romance Slam Jam
Four Points by Sheraton Hotel, 7032 Elm Road, Baltimore, MD
Panelist/Book Signing/Workshop Presenter

May 7
Atlanta Georgia Peach Authors Tour, Southwest Branch Library, 3665 Cascade Rd. SW, Atlanta, GA 30331, Book Signing
11:00 a.m.-2:00 p.m.

May 7
Empowerment Workshop: Represent Your Company at All Times Through Your Actions, East Point Branch Library, 2757 Main Street, East Point, GA 30344
3:00 p.m.-4:00 p.m.

May 21
Second Saturday Book Club Meeting (Time & Location TBD)

May 24
Total Grace Book Club Meeting, 4000 Covington Highway, Decatur, GA 30032
6:00 p.m.-8:00 p.m.

June 26
Atlanta Georgia Peach Authors Tour, 30 Books in 30 Days Hammonds House Event
2:00 p.m.

July 16
Atlanta Georgia Peach Authors, Ft. Benning, GA

June 30-July 1
Bayou Soul Writers & Reader's Conference
Holiday Inn Downtown Superdome, 330 Loyola Avenue, New Orleans, LA

Past 2011 Events:

February 12
Fairfield Baptist Church, 6133 Redan Rd., Lithonia, GA
Book Signing at 9:45 a.m.-11:45 a.m.

When the Fairytale Ends

2011-01-23T23:04:00.005-05:00

2nd Book in the Married Series...Excerpt:

Prologue

A bitter, coppery taste filled his mouth and his tongue felt like one huge swollen blister lolling around. Battering rams seemed to simultaneously slam against both his temples. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or not because whether open or closed, he seemed to be swimming in darkness, a darkness that was so utterly black, the fear of being blind constricted his heart. He tried to take in a deep breath, but it felt like slabs of concrete were compressing his chest.

“So you finally decided to rejoin the land of the living?”

That voice. Female. Familiar. It wasn’t a stranger’s voice. He tried to place the voice, but the battering rams in his head banged louder. He gritted his teeth against the excruciating migraine pain and tried to reach for his head, only to realize that his hands were restrained at the wrists. Cold restraints. Metal restraints. He strained against the restraints until it felt like he had broken every piece of cartilage in his wrists. He felt the cold metal restraints around his ankles too. Rough, coarse rope kept his knees firmly glued together and the coarseness of the rope dug into the tender skin at the underside of his knees. Though he gave a good struggle, the most he managed to do was to scrape all the skin from around his ankles. But the rope didn’t give an inch.

“You should stop straining like that, Greg. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

There was that voice again. Close to his right ear. Vaguely familiar. And she knew his name.

He tried to place the voice but every time he started concentrating, the battering rams became deafening and pain reverberated back and forth from one to temple to the next. Opening his eyes as wide as he could, he strained to see through the darkness, and finally made out a pair of white eyeballs staring back at him. He licked lips that were Sahara dry and tried to wet his mouth so that he could speak. Only squeaks came out.

“Water?”

He nodded, then instantly regretted it. The battering rams exchanged themselves for band cymbals, pots and pans, fork tines against metal.

Greg felt something cold against his lips and he touched his chin to his chest, trying to sit up as much as he could to sip on the cool water. Each swallow felt like a ball of fire inching its way down his throat and his tongue felt ten sizes too big for his mouth. He scanned his mind, trying to figure out where he was, why was he was restrained, and who was this woman with the voice and glass of water? And how did she know his name?

When he spoke, it sounded like his vocal chords had been grated with sandpaper, and his swollen tongue made him sound funny. “Who are you?”

He heard the smile in her voice. “I could be your fantasy, or your worst nightmare. Which would you prefer?”

Her words chilled his soul and raised goose bumps across his skin. He wet his lips again. “Where am I?”

“Ocho Rios. How could you forget so soon that we’re in Jamaica?”

As soon as she said the words, everything started coming back to him. The money from the will. The trip. His wife. His wife. His wife.

“Where’s Shania? Where’s my wife? Is she okay? What have you done to her?”

“Shut up and settle down,” the woman said, and Greg felt her fingernails start at the inside of his ankle and graze up his leg to his crotch area. She had stripped him of all his clothes. “That little mutt of yours is in good hands. She hasn’t been hurt, and she won’t be as long as you cooperate with us.”

“Cooperate with who? Who are you? What do you want from me?” Greg wasn’t sure which beat louder, his head or his heart. But he knew this much; if they so much as harmed a hair on Shania’s head, even though the Bible said thou shall not kill, God was going to have to forgive him on this one.

“You know exactly what we want, Greg. We want what you stole from us.”

Who is ‘us’? And what in the world had he ‘stolen’? He wasn’t a thief; the only thing he could ever remember stealing was grapes from the local grocery store and that was only because he nibbled on them throughout the store so that when he paid for them, they wouldn’t weigh as much. But other than that, what had he stolen? He wasn’t a taker, he was a giver. They must have him confused with somebody else; that’s what it had to be. They—whoever they was— must have the wrong person.

“You got the wrong person,” he squeaked out. “I swear. It’s not me. I’ve never stolen a thing before in my life.”

Again, her demonic laughter filled the room. “You sure about that, Greg?”

How in the world did she know his name?

“Think long and hard about that.” He listened to her footsteps as she walked around the bed—because that’s what he figured he must’ve been tied down to—and placed her lips merely centimeters away from his left ear. “You stole something from us. And you can either give it to us the easy way,” her claws shot out and grabbed his testicles and she twisted until a scream ripped from his throat, “or the hard way. Whichever you prefer.” She let go of his precious jewels, and as bad as he wanted to hold himself, massage himself, shield himself, the restraints wouldn’t allow his hands to move.

Despite the throbbing in his head, he racked his brain, trying to recall his last memories before waking up in this hell hole. He remembered arriving at the island; he remembered Shania and her horrible attitude; he remembered going to the bar, having a drink with two of the Jamaican guys he had met at the shore to relieve some stress. That was the last thing he remembered, sitting at the tiki bar with those two men, sipping a non-alcoholic pina colada. Though this woman’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, and he was sure if she turned on a light, he could identify her instantly, those two Jamaicans at the bar were complete strangers. He had never seen them a day before in his life. So why would they drug him? And that’s what had to have happened. That was the only explanation for his swollen tongue, the sour taste in his mouth, and this cataclysmic migraine.

But…but…but why would they do such a thing? They didn’t know him. Even though he was wealthy, he didn’t exude wealth. He had worn a pair of sandals, khaki shorts, and a plain white T-shirt. No flashy jewelry or anything of that sort. And he and Shania had stayed in a middle-class hotel. The hotel was breathtakingly beautiful, without a doubt, but it didn’t scream out: The People Who Room Here Are Rich! So why had they singled him out?

“I’ll give you time to think it over, Greg. But when I come back, you better be ready to talk business. You better be ready to agree to everything I ask for. Or else, I will bring your wife’s pretty little fingers to you one by one.”

“You touch her and I will kill you!”

“How? You’re going to spit on me to death? It’s not like you can move.”

Rage forced him to try his best to break through his shackles. He only succeeded in making his headache worse, scratching more skin off his ankles and wrists, and pulling a muscle in his left leg. He screamed out in fury and frustration, frightened for himself but even more frightened for his wife. What if they were lying? What if they had killed her already? And where were those two men? If they weren’t in here with him, that meant that they were in there with her. What had they done to her? What where they doing to her? His vivid imagination alone nearly sent him spiraling over insanity’s edge.

“Help!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Help! Somebody help! Help me! Somebody help!”

Something long, hard and cold muffled his screams. Even in the pitch black darkness, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that she had jammed the barrel of a gun into his mouth. But was it loaded or unloaded—that was the question. He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to find out.

“Pull another trick like that,” she growled, “and you’ll live to regret it. That’s if I let you live.” She shoved the gun deeper in his mouth, until the tip slid down the upper portion of his esophagus. He gagged and his stomach heaved. She snatched the gun out his mouth and he turned his head in just enough time to throw up.

“I’ll be back in an hour or two,” she said. He heard her footsteps retreat, heard a door squeak open before slamming shut. Then he counted at least three deadbolts click into place.

He sat in the dark silence, quiet, listening, making sure he was completely alone while he strained futilely to make out his surroundings. Once he was sure he was in the room by himself, he fought against the restraints with every ounce of his strength, even attempting to twist his arm out of the socket just to get loose. Finally, he gave up and yelled out from the pits of his soul. He held his breath for fear that the door would come open and she would jam the gun in his mouth and this time, pull the trigger. He held his breath in fear that the door would fling open and she’d be standing there, holding up one of Shania’s fingers to show him that her threats were by no means idle. But when seconds ticked by and became minutes, and minutes dragged by for what seemed like lifetimes, he figured he was “safe” for now and prayed that Shania was fine as well.

As he laid there, his arms shackled to either side of the bed, his legs tied at the knees and shackled at the ankles, he felt like a reincarnate of Jesus, just without the nails. Feeling utterly hopeless, hot tears slipped from his eyes and puddle in his ears as he stared up at the ceiling and whispered, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me…”

Coming April 2011. Pre-order your copy from Amazon today!

What skills does a writer need to develop?

2010-03-27T11:07:00.002-05:00

This was so good that I thought it was worth sharing. It's a repost from Chip McGregor's site at http://chipmacgregor.typepad.com/

Samantha wrote me this past weekend and asked, "If you were my mentor, what are the skills you would share with me to help me develop a career in writing?" I love the question...may I just create a laundry list as my answer?

1. Develop a writing schedule (i.e., have a time and a place where you write regularly)

2. Have a goal (perhaps "create 1000 salable word per day")

3. Learn to get the words down on paper (you can revise later - it's always easier to edit something than to create something)

4. Create short assignments for yourself (you're not trying to write a book all at once -- if you break it into pieces, you're trying to get each small assignment done)

5. [This is going to offend some people, but hear me out] In the words of Anne Lamott, be willing to create shitty first drafts (okay, forgive the language if it offends you -- that's stolen from Anne Lamott's fabulous book Bird by Bird, and it's one of the best writing lessons ever. So what should I say? "Poopy" first drafts? First drafts of deep doo-doo? It seems weak to say, "Be willing to create first drafts that aren't very good." So...I'll just ask you to live with my colorful use of the language today.)

6. Know what makes a good story (understand what a plot is and how to follow a story arc)

7. Learn to create true-to-life dialogue (nothing keeps people reading more than a great conversation)

8. Establish a place (many novelists has lost the art of establishing a setting)

9. Characters make your story (newer writers often want to focus strictly on plot, but strong characters are what add depth and texture to a story)

10. Understand what makes superb writing (great themes, the deep questions, wrestling with morality, decision making, choices that may not be correct)

11. Learn to organize your life (in the words of management guru Bobb Biehl, everybody needs a calendar, an address system, a filing system, and a "To Do" list)

12. Learn to partner "a big idea" with "great writing" and "a solid platform" (publishers want all three)

13. What is unique about your idea? (Solomon was right -- the writing of books is endless, so figure out what is different or special or fresh about yours... If you can't answer the "so what?" question, you're in trouble.)

14. Establish your voice (the hardest thing to do in writing, but the single most important step to becoming successful)

15. Network so that you can create strong relationships with other authors, with editors, and with publishers (it's who you know in publishing...just like every other business)

16. Know your audience (books are read by individuals, so know exactly which individual is going to be reading your book)

17. Create perfect proposals (work to create a proposal your publisher can't say "no" to)

18. Seek to understand the market (you don't have to be driven by trends, but it's important to know what they are)

19. Understand what helps writing sell (fiction is for entertainment, nonfiction is for education, but great writing for either should change me)

20. Know how to sell (your book, your idea, your self)

21. Establish a relationship with a good agent (there are some lousy agents out there, but a good agent can help shape your career as much as any choice you'll make)

22. Know how to plan a writing career (how to write, what to write, when to write, who to write to, how to move forward, and when to go full time)

23. Be able to read through a publishing contract (understand what you're signing and what it means)

24. Be able to negotiate (even agented authors need some basic negotiating tools)

25. Work hard at marketing (the author is the person most responsible for marketing the book, not the publisher, the editor, the sales team, the publicist, or the marketing director)

26. Know how to manage your money (writing is feast and famine...knowing how to fill in the gaps is a really handy ability)

27. Understand yourself and your writing (plan your work and work your plan)

28. Politeness counts (express appreciation to others -- success should be matched by grace)

29. Learn to give back (every good writer is a mentor who carries on the craft by investing in a protege)

30. Keep perspective on your life and work (publishing doesn't make you smart or pretty or holy; getting your name in print doesn't validate your life)

There you go -- my list of things I'd share with you. If this interests you, I encourage you to pick up a copy of Carolyn See's wonderful little book Making a Literary Life. In it, she encourages authors to write 1000 words and send a "charming note" each day. If you only did those two things, you'd probably be miles ahead of the pack. Maybe the best advice I know.

My Mother's Child Blog Tour

2010-03-02T13:14:00.004-05:00

RADIO SCHEDULE

March 2, 2010
Real Talk With Tanya White Radio Show (8:40-8:55 p.m. EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/realtalkwithtanyawhite
(347) 215-6446

March 3, 2010
Abundant Solutions (9:00 p.m. EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/asemotivation
(718) 508-9600

March 4, 2010
WordThirst Literary Online Radio Show (8 p.m. EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/ashea-goldson
(347) 324-3749

March 5, 2010
Chocolate Pages Show (6:00 p.m. EST)
http://www.blogtalkradio.com/chocolatepages
(646)716-8098

April 26, 2010
From The Heart & Soul" with Lady Serenity (7:00 p.m. EST)
http://www.BlogTalkRadio.com/lady-Serenity
(347)838-9657

BLOG TOUR SCHEDULE

March 1
All the Buzz Reviews
http://www.allthebuzzreviews.com

Urban Christian Fiction Today
http://www.urbanchristianfictiontoday.com

Tia's Pen
http://www.Tiaspen.blogspot.com

Sharon Ball
http://www.sharonball.com

March 2
RAWSistaz Literary Group
http://www.rawsistaz.com

Mom Unplugged
http://www.momunplugged.com

Let Us Bear Fruit
http://letusbearfruit.blogspot.com

I Read ...
http://sumanam.wordpress.com/

March 3
SORMAG
http://sormag.blogspot.com/

Simpy Said Reading Accessories
http://Simplysaidreadingaccessories.blogspot.com

Wanda B. Campbell
http://www.wandabcampbell.net/blog.html

March 4
Joey Reviews
http://www.joeypinkney.com/

The Certain Ones
http://thecertainones.blogspot.com

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

March 5
APOOO Book Club
http://www.apooobooks.com

Paulette Harper
http://pauletteharper.blogspot.com

Loving Heart Mommy
http://www.lovingheartmommy.com

EDC Creations Literary Hallmarks 2009: 100 Adult Power Reads of the Decade

2010-01-16T13:23:00.001-05:00

EDC Creations Literary Hallmarks 2009: 100 Adult Power Reads of the Decade

Ella Curry and EDC Creations is proud to announce the 100 Best Books of the Decade. Each book created an impact for readers and the Sankofa Literary Society network. Our literary hallmarks indicate excellence in writing. These are the books we want to showcase to the world.

Readers please take a moment and examine the list below. There is something for all book lovers! The books are NOT listed in any order pertaining to the quality of the literature—they are all 4-5 star reads. Each book on this list will bring something of value to enrich the lives of the readers and to help to strengthen our future generations. ENJOY!

100 Adult Power Reads of the Decade: 2000-2009

1. America I AM Legends by Smiley Books

2. Audacity of Hope by President Barack Obama

3. Mandela: The Authorized Portrait by PQ Publishers Ltd

4. Chicken Soup for the African American Woman's Soul by Jack Canfield and Lisa Nichols

5. The Covenant with Black America by Tavis Smiley

6. Half of a Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

7. You Must Set Forth at Dawn by Wole Soyinka

8. Jewels: 50 Phenomenal Black Women Over 50 by Michael Cunningham and Connie Briscoe

9. Coming Together by Harriette Cole

10. Like Trees Walking by Ravi Howard

11. Tropical Fish: Tales From Entebbe by Doreen Baingana

12. Medical Apartheid by Harriet A. Washington

13. What Becomes of the Brokenhearted: A Memoir by E. Lynn Harris

14. Down the Aisle in Style by Chamein Canton

15. May December Souls by Marissa Monteilh

16. The Measure of a Man by Sidney Poitier

17. Friends: A Love Story by Angela Bassett and Courtney Vance

18. What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day by Pearl Cleage

19. The Baron Son by William R. Patterson

20. Reallionaire by Farrah Gray

21. Girl Get Your Credit Straight by Glinda Bridgeforth

22. Voodoo Season by Jewell Parker Rhodes

23. Standing at the Scratch Line by Guy Johnson

24. All Aunt Hagar's Children by Edward P. Jones

25. The Senator and The Socialite by Lawrence Otis Graham

26. Life is Short But Wide by J. California Cooper

27. Criss Cross by Evie Rhodes

28. Brothers and Sisters by Bebe Moore Campbell

29. Man of Fantasy by Rochelle Alers

30. This Bitter Earth by Bernice L. McFadden

31. Not Easily Broken by T.D. Jakes

32. Cruisin' On Desperation by Pat G'Orge-Walker

33. Big Spankable Asses by Kimberly Kaye Terry

34. Gettin' Buck Wild: Sex Chronicles II by Zane

35. Standing Against the Wind by Traci L. Jones

36. Unconditionally Single by Mary B. Morrison

37. Casanegra by Blair Underwood

38. The Aftermath by Anna J.

39. Them by Nathan McCall

40. Diary of a Mistress by Miasha

41. Growing Up Girl by Michelle Sewell

42. The Hand I Fan With by Tina Mcelroy Ansa

43. Sugar by Bernice L. McFadden

44. A Taste Of Sin by Fiona Zedde

45. Passin' by Karen E. Quinones Miller

46. Living, Breathing Lies by Gloria Mallette

47. Thong on Fire: An Urban Erotic Tale by Noire

48. Dark Sons by Nikki Grimes

49. 48 Laws of Power by Robert Greene

50. Nina's Got A Secret by Brian W. Smith

51. Leaving Atlanta by Tayari Jones

52. Open My Eyes, Open My Soul by Yolanda King and Elodia Tate

53. Girl Get Your Child Support by Cathy Middleton

54. Seasons by Bonnie Hopkins

55. The Just Us Girls by Evelyn 'Slim' Lambright

56. Child of God by Lolita Files

57. Can't Get Enough by Connie Briscoe

58. Joplin's Ghost by Tananarive Due

59. Gather Together in My Name by Tracy Price-Thompson

60. Casting The First Stone by Kimberla Lawson Roby

61. The Darkest Child: A Novel by Delores Phillips

62. I Say a Little Prayer by E. Lynn Harris

63. Baby Brother's Blues by Pearl Cleage

64. The Living Blood by Tananarive Due

65. Deadly Sexy by Beverly Jenkins

66. Someone Knows My Name by Lawrence Hill

67. My Sister's Ex: A Novel by Cydney Rax

68. Fifth Born by Zelda Lockhart

69. Divorcing the Devil by Dwan Abrams

70. What Doesn't Kill You: A Novel by Deberry and Grant

71. I Know I've Been Changed by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

72. Watercolored Pearls: A Novel by Stacy Hawkins Adams

73. She Ain't The One by Mary B. Morrison

74. Something On The Side by Carl Weber

75. Dutch by Teri Woods and Kwame Teague

76. Black and Ugly by T. Styles

77. A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines

78. The Blacker the Berry by Lena Matthews

79. Gonna Lay Down My Burdens by Mary Monroe

80. Sexual Healing by Jill Nelson

81. A Day Late and a Dollar Short by Terry McMillan

82. The Hotel Alleluia by Lucinda Roy

83. Victoria's Secret by Jason Poole

84. The Prisoner's Wife by Asha Bandele

85. Devil in a Blue Dress by Walter Mosley

86. Countering the Conspiracy to Destroy Black Boys by Jawanza Kunjufu

87. Cream by by Solomon Jones

88. Little Ghetto Girl by Danielle Santiago

89. Gutter: A Novel by K'wan

90. No Girl Needs a Husband Seven Days a Week by Nina Foxx

91. A New Kind of Blue by Bettye Griffin

92. Dubious by Tina Brooks McKinney

93. Maneater by Mary B. Morrison and Noire

94. Sweets: Soul Food Desserts and Memories by Patty Pinner

95. On The Run With Love by J. M. Benjamin

96. In Cahootz by Quentin Carter

97. Fearless Jones by Walter Mosley

98. Gabriel's Story by David Anthony Durham

99. Right Side of the Wrong Bed by Frederick Smith

100. Just Us Girls: The Contemporary African American Young Adult Novel by Wendy RountreePlease rate the article. What to you think?

2010 Book Tour Schedule

2010-01-10T21:05:00.002-05:00

It's that time again. New book, another tour. I'm excited about my upcoming release, My Mother's Child. Hope to see you along the way. Peace & Blessings!

February 23--Official release date for My Mother's Child--Please be sure to pick up a copy!

March 6--My Mother's Child Book Release Party, J.P. Carr Community Center, 981 Taylor St., Conyers, GA 30012, 2:00-4:00 p.m.

March 20--Renaissance Book Club Meeting, Jackson, MS

April 17--Ladies of the Dove Literary Festival, Brewton-Parker College Liberty County auditorium, Hinesville/Ft. Stewart, GA, 10:00 a.m.-6:00 p.m.

April 24--Black Bestsellers Bash, Southwest Regional Branch Library, 3665 Cascade Rd. SW, Atlanta, GA 30331, 2:00 p.m.

April 25--Wanda's Way Radio Interview, 12:00 (noon) EST

April 25--SBS Book Club Meeting, Columbus, GA

April 27--Pages of Grace Book Club Meeting, Atlanta, GA

May 15--Words of Inspiration (WOI) Book Club Meeting, Atlanta, GA

June 23-26--Presenter at the Black Writers Reunion & Conference, W Atlanta Perimeter Hotel, Atlanta, GA

2010 Resolution Handbook for Happiness

2010-01-01T10:58:00.004-05:00

This is a repost from Star Jones's blog. It was so good that I felt the need to share.

I am resolving right now that 2010 is going to be a year to show RESPECT, extend KINDNESS, grow in LOVE, and PRAISE GOD for his goodness and mercy! For all those in agreement, join me by taking the pledge to use this 50 point "handbook" to improve your HEALTH, polish your PERSONALITY, strengthen our SOCIETY and perfect our LIVES.

THEREFORE BE IT RESOLVED THAT I WILL:

1. Drink plenty of water.
2. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a beggar.
3. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food that is manufactured in plants.
4. Live with the 3 E's -- Energy, Enthusiasm and Empathy
5. Make time to pray every single day.
6. Play more games.
7. Read more books than I did in 2009.
8. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.
9. Sleep for 7 hours.
10. Take a 10-30 minute walk daily; and while I walk...smile.
11. Not compare my life to others because I have no idea what their journey is all about.
12. Say "I love you" to my partner...because I do.
13. Not have negative thoughts about things that I cannot control.
14. Invest my energy in the positive present moment.
15. Not over do it.
16. Focus on my health...because in the end...that's all that matters.
17. Make more donations to those less fortunate because regardless of my situation...I'm not missing any meals or sleeping on the street.
18. Not take myself so seriously; because no one else does.
19. Exercise more and talk about exercise less.
20. Not waste my precious energy on gossip.
21. Dream more while I'm awake.
22. Remember that envy is a waste of time. I already have all that I need.
23. Forget issues of the past.
24. Not remind my family, friends or partner of his/her mistakes of the past.
25. Not ruin my present happiness.
26. Remember that life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
27. Make peace with my past so it won't spoil my present.
28. Be in charge of my own happiness.
29. Realize that life is a school and I am here to learn and problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade away like algebra class; but the lessons I learn will last a lifetime.
30. Smile and laugh more.
31. Not have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
32. Call my family more often.
33. Give something good to others each day.
34. Remove all toxic people, places and things from my life.
35. Forgive everyone for everything...because it's not that deep.
36. Spend time with people over the age of 70 & under the age of 6.
37. Try to make at least three people smile each day.
38. Stay in my own lane and out of other people's business.
39. Stop worrying about what other people think of me because it is none of my business.
40. Remember that my job won't take care of me when I'm sick. My family & friends will; so I need to stay in touch with folk who matter in my life.
41. Do the right thing!
42. Call my parents...just to say thank you.
43. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
44. Open myself up to new experiences that take me out of my comfort zone.
45. Organize my personal space because excellence cannot operate in chaos.
46. Know that no matter how good or bad a situation is, it can and will change.
47. No matter how I feel...I will get up, dress up and show up.
48. Open my eyes every morning and when I realize that I am still alive; I will thank GOD for it.
49. Remember that God is in control...so I will let go and let God!
50. End my day with a prayer of thanksgiving because God has already promised that the best is yet to come.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

Secrets and Lies by Rhonda McKnight

2009-12-17T11:14:00.011-05:00

Introducing SECRETS AND LIES by Rhonda McKnight

Amazon link
http://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Lies-Rhonda-McKnight/dp/1601629400/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1257041640&sr=8-1
------------------------------------------------------------------
About the Book

Faith Morgan is struggling with her faith. Years of neglect leave her doubting that God will ever fix her marriage. When a coworker accuses her husband, Jonah, of the unthinkable, Faith begins to wonder if she really knows him at all, and if it's truly in God's will for them to stay married.

Pediatric cardiologist Jonah Morgan is obsessed with one thing: his work. A childhood incident cemented his desire to heal children at any cost, even his family, but now he finds himself at a crossroads in his life. Will he continue to allow the past to haunt him, or find healing and peace in a God he shut out long ago?

About the Author

Rhonda McKnight owns Legacy Editing, a free-lance editing service for fiction writers and Urban Christian Fiction Today (www.urbanchristianfictiontoday.com ), a popular Internet site that highlights African-American Christian fiction. She’s also the vice president of the Faith Based Fiction Writers of Atlanta. Originally from a small coastal town in New Jersey, she’s called Atlanta, Georgia home for almost twelve years.

Rhonda, tell us how you came up with the idea for this story? I woke up one morning and these people were talking in my head, or rather arguing. (LOL). I thought this could be interesting, turned on the creativity, and came up with the “issues” in their marriage. I also did a lot of research about heart disease. Jonah is a pediatric cardiologist and that’s central to the story. I knew absolutely nothing about heart disease before I wrote this novel.

Who is your ideal reader? I think most people will think my ideal reader is women who are married. While I think the book will definitely appeal to married women, I’d love for single woman who are thinking about marriage or waiting on Mr. Right to read the book. There is a valuable lesson for single women in the story. Faith chose to overlook a very important issue prior to her marriage to Jonah. This issue becomes a huge source of pain for her. Ten years later her ideal black man has her pulling her hair out.

Name something about the book that will appeal to readers? I think readers will find it appealing, because more than half of it is written from Jonah’s point of view. My informal research amongst readers has taught me that women readers love stories that are written from a man’s perspective. Like most men, Jonah is complex. He’s a love to hate kind of guy. People will love him because he’s dedicated his life to physically healing children, but he’s emotionally and spiritually sick himself. What a burden for Faith. Faith’s pain will have some folks shaking their heads at Jonah.

When's your next book being released? My second novel, An Inconvenient Friend comes out August 1, 2010. I have a nasty little character in Secrets and Lies who gets her own story, and what a story it is. She's up to no good. Can she be redeemed?

How can readers find out more about you? Readers may contact me at my website at www.rhondamcknight.net. I love for people to sign my guestbook and share their thoughts about the story. I'm also a complete Facebook addict. You'll definitely find me there more than you should at www.facebook.com/rhondamcknight

Wendy Williams Biggest Fan

2009-11-03T14:27:00.000-05:00

The Reality of a Times Bestseller by LViel

2009-10-07T12:19:00.000-05:00

A few years ago I made a promise to my writer friends that if I ever had a novel hit the top twenty of the New York Times mass market bestseller list that I would share all the information I was given about the book so writers could really see what it takes to get there. Today I’m going to keep that promise and give you the stats on my sixth Darkyn novel, Twilight Fall.

We’ve all been told a lot of myths about what it takes to reach the top twenty list of the NYT BSL. What I was told: you have to have an initial print run of 100-150K, you have to go to all the writer and reader conferences to pimp the book, you can’t make it unless you go to certain bookstores during release week and have a mass signing or somehow arrange for a lot of copies to be sold there; the list is fixed, etc.

I’ve never had a 100K first print run. I don’t do book signings and I don’t order massive amounts of my own books from certain bookstores (I don’t even know which bookstores are the magic ones from whom the Times gets their sales data.) I do very little in the way of promotions for my books; for this one I gave away some ARCs, sent some author copies to readers and reviewers, and that was about it. I haven’t attended any conference since 2003. To my knowledge there was no marketing campaign for this book; I was never informed of what the publisher was going to do for it (as a high midlist author I probably don’t rate a marketing campaign yet.) I know they did some blog ads for the previous book in the series, but I never saw anything online about this particular book. No one offered to get me on the Times list, either, but then I was never told who to bribe, beg or otherwise convince to fix the list (I don’t think there is anyone who really does that, but you never know.)

Despite my lack of secret handshakes and massive first print runs, in July 2008 my novel Twilight Fall debuted on the Times mm list at #19. I’ll tell you exactly why it got there: my readers put it there. But it wasn’t until last week that I received the first royalty statement (Publishing is unbelievably slow in this department) so I just now put together all the actual figures on how well the book did.

To give you some background info, Twilight Fall had an initial print run of 88.5K, and an initial ship of 69K. Most readers, retailers and buyers that I keep in touch with e-mailed me to let me know that the book shipped late because of the July 4th holiday weekend. Another 4K was shipped out two to four weeks after the lay-down date, for a total of 73K, which means there were 15.5K held in reserve in the warehouse in July 2008.

Here is the first royalty statement for Twilight Fall, on which I’ve only blanked out Penguin Group’s address. Everything else is exactly as I’ve listed it. To give you a condensed version of what all those figures mean, for the sale period of July through November 30, 2008. my publisher reports sales of 64,925 books, for which my royalties were $40,484.00. I didn’t get credit for all those sales, as 21,140 book credits were held back as a reserve against possible future returns, for which they subtracted $13,512.69 (these are not lost sales; I’m simply not given credit for them until the publisher decides to release them, which takes anywhere from one to three years.)

My net earnings on this statement was $27,721.31, which was deducted from my advance. My actual earnings from this statement was $0.

My advance for Twilight Fall was $50,000.00, a third of which I did not get paid until the book physically hit the shelf — this is now a common practice by publishers, to withhold a portion of the advance until date of publication. Of that $50K, my agent received $7,500.00 as her 15% (which she earns, believe me) the goverment received roughly $15,000.00, and $1594.27 went to cover my expenses (office supplies, blog giveaways, shipping, promotion, etc.) After expenses and everyone else was paid, I netted about $26K of my $50K advance for this book, which is believe it or not very good — most authors are lucky if they can make 10% profit on any book. This should also shut up everyone who says all bestselling authors make millions — most of us don’t.

My next royalty statement for Twilight Fall probably won’t come until October or November 2009, but when it does I’ll post copies of it so you can see what a top twenty Times bestseller does in the first year after it’s released.

In Publishing telling the truth about earnings smashes the illusions publishers and writers want you to believe and, like breaking mirrors, it never brings you good luck. Thing is, when I was a rookie I wanted to know exactly what it took to have a top twenty Times bestselling novel, because that was such a big deal to writers. Everyone I asked gave me a different answer, told me a bunch of nonsense, or couldn’t/wouldn’t tell me at all. For that reason I want you to see the hard figures, and know the reality, and the next time someone asks you what it takes, you can tell them the truth.

First Wild Card Tour--What To Do On the Worst Day of Your Life

2009-04-15T23:10:00.000-05:00

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Brian Zahnd

and the book:

What To Do On the Worst Day of Your Life

Christian Life (March 3, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Brian Zahnd is the founder and senior pastor of Word of Life Church, a congregation in St. Joseph, Missouri. He and his wife, Peri, have three sons.

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Hardcover: 160 pages
Publisher: Christian Life (March 3, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1599797267
ISBN-13: 978-1599797267

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Weep

As David stood among the smoldering ruins of what had been his home, he wept. As he faced the awful fact that the Amalekites had in one day reduced him to financial ruin, he wept. As he contemplated the terrifying reality that cruel and murderous bandits had kidnapped his family, he wept. All he could do was cry. Hot tears flowed down his face, and heavy sobs made his body convulse. The only outlet David could find for the fear and the anger and the pain that seized his soul was weeping.

David was not alone in his weeping. Six hundred men, all of them strong and valiant soldiers, men who had faced death many times without a hint of fear, now wept openly and uncontrollably. Many of these men were the champions whose heroic deeds would become legendary in Israel. These weren't weak men. These weren't men prone to emotional histrionics. But they couldn't hold back the hot, salty tears, nor did they want to. The biblical narration tells us they wept until they had no more power to weep. Powerful men wept until weeping had drained their power. They cried and cried until they were too tired to cry anymore.

What do you do when trouble hits you so hard that it knocks the wind out of you and makes you feel that it must be the worst day of your life? The first thing you do is to go ahead and weep. Stoicism has nothing to do with faith. Living by faith is not living without feelings. Being strong in faith does not make us immune to emotion. Those who live by faith experience emotion like everybody else--they just don't allow emotion to have the last word. God has created us as emotional beings; it is part of our human nature. Emotions are an essential part of experiencing pleasure and joy in life. Those who deny their emotional makeup become people with bland personalities incapable of really enjoying life. To deny true sorrow is also to deny true joy. Having a flat, prosaic personality is not what it means to be a person of faith.

You cannot even worship God without involving your emotions. David, who is depicted in Scripture as a great worshiper of God, was highly demonstrative in his worship. He would sing, shout, and dance in his praise of God. We can involve the full range of our emotions when we worship God. The emotion that proceeds from a deep understanding of God's glory and goodness is filled with spiritual substance and is both vital and valid in worship. It should not be confused with empty emotionalism, which is emotion for emotion's sake.

If you can contemplate the rich salvation accomplished for you through the suffering of Jesus Christ upon the cross and be completely devoid of any emotional response, there is something wrong. God has made us to feel things. We feel joy, we feel peace, we feel excitement, we feel anger, and we feel sadness--this is how God created human beings. To deny these emotions is to deny your humanity. When the troubles of life strike us with particularly cruel blows, it's natural and perfectly acceptable--and perhaps even helpful--to respond with weeping. Weeping is not inconsistent with faith. Some of the greatest giants of faith in the Bible wept:

Abraham, the father of faith, wept at the death of his wife Sarah.

When Jacob met his future bride Rachel, he was so overwhelmed that he wept.

When Joseph was reunited with his estranged brothers, he wept.

Hezekiah wept when he received the bad report that he would die from his illlness.

Nehemiah wept over the sad state of Jerusalem.

Job wept in the midst of his trial.

The prophet Jeremiah wept over the sins of Israel.

Peter wept over his failure and betrayal of Christ.

Paul wept in the middle of his trials.

John wept during his heavenly visions.

Even Jesus wept!

The weeping of Jesus is a powerful testimony to the fullness of His humanity. There is much sorrow in this fallen world, and men and women have many reasons to weep.

One of our most beloved Christmas carols is Away in a Manger. Recently, while splitting wood on a subzero day during the Christmas season, I found myself humming the melody as the words circled through my mind:

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,

The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head.

The stars in the sky looked down where He lay,

The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the Baby awakes,

But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes . . . 1

I stopped right there. Baby Jesus doesn't cry? Of course He does. Like every baby, Jesus cried at birth. Like every baby, Jesus cried when He was hungry. Like every child, Jesus cried when He was hurt or unhappy. The baby Jesus who doesn't cry is the halo Jesus--the Jesus depicted so often in religious art. The problem with the halo Jesus is that He is not human. A baby who doesn't cry is not human. A person who doesn't cry is lacking in humanity. Jesus cried. He cried as a baby, as a child, and as a man. He was a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief. Jesus cried. He shed the tears of God.

God in Christ shed tears? This is an astounding acknowledgment. But nothing that is common to man was kept from God in Christ. Not birth, nor death; not trial, nor temptation; not sorrow, nor suffering. And not tears.

Some theologians have argued for the doctrine of divine impassibility. This doctrine, which states that God is without passion or emotion, was first developed by early theologians who were heavily influenced by Greek philosophers. It was later adopted by some of the Reformation theologians. Well, I have a bone to pick with these theologians. They have woefully underestimated the Incarnation. Christ is not God masquerading as human. The Incarnation is God made fully human--and tears are part of the human condition. Thus, in Christ we find not divine impassibility but divine suffering. We find the tears of God. These tears are integral to our salvation. For, as Dietrich Bonhoeffer observed, Only the suffering God can help. It's interesting to note that as a direct result of the Holocaust, most theologians now reject divine impassibility. Apparently, the notion that God adopts a passive attitude toward human suffering is no longer tenable in light of the horrendous suffering of the Holocaust.

It's not the Stoic Greek philosophers who reflect the heart of God, but the weeping Hebrew prophets--not Zeno the Stoic philosopher, but Jeremiah the weeping prophet. The prophets wept because God weeps. Jesus wept because God weeps. The Word became flesh that God might join us in our tears.

Joy Comes in the Morning

Yet, the tears of God are not tears of mere commiseration. These are holy tears that lead to our liberation--liberation from the dominion of sorrow. God in Christ did not join us in sorrow merely as an experiment in empathy. He joined us in sorrow that He might lead us to the joy that comes in the morning. Jesus has entered fully into the new morning of resurrection. The rest of creation groans, eagerly awaiting the promised liberation.

In the meantime, we who suffer are comforted with the knowledge that we are not alone in our suffering. Jesus joined us in our suffering and shed the tears of God. It is in those tears that we will ultimately find joy unspeakable and full of glory.

In the first Advent two thousand years ago, God in Christ joined us in our tears. The Son of God was born in tears, like every baby that has ever been born. In His second Advent, or Second Coming, God in Christ will join us again, this time to wipe away all of our tears!

In the course of my life and ministry, I've had my own nights of weeping. When I was just a young twenty-two-year-old pastor, I wept as a disgruntled man in the church stood in a service and shouted, Ichabod, Ichabod, the glory is departed, and then led half the congregation to leave the church. Later, there were times when the pressure and stress became so severe that I was reduced to tears during a very difficult multimillion-dollar building project. I wept when I stood in a hospital room with grieving parents as their teenage son was pronounced dead. There have been times of tears still too personal to talk about. I can say with the apostle Paul that I have served the Lord with many tears.

The Bible says there is a time to weep,14 and that cannot be denied. It would be an added cruelty to deny yourself or others tears in times of tragedy or deep personal pain.

But there is also a time to dry your tears and stop weeping. Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

There is a night of weeping, but there is also a dawn of faith. When the morning comes, it is time to stop weeping and start rejoicing in God. If you continue to weep . . . if you continue to hold on to your grief and sorrow, it will turn into self-pity, which can destroy your faith and prevent you from coming out of your pain and into a place of victory.

It's important to realize there is a perverse weeping that is founded in self-pity and sinful unbelief. Such weeping arouses the anger of God. When the wilderness generation of Israelites were filled with cravings for the meat, fish, cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions, and garlic they used to eat as slaves in Egypt and complained and wept because all they had to eat in the wilderness was the manna God supernaturally supplied to them, Òthe anger of the Lord was greatly aroused

Sinful unbelief led the wilderness generation of Israelites to weep in fear and self-pity. This kind of weeping aroused the anger of God. You will never move out of a place of personal misery into a better and healthier place if you become locked into perpetual self-pity--it's one of the most destructive emotional states a human being can indulge in, and it must be resisted. Even when you have encountered the worst day of your life, there comes a time when you have cried enough. Eventually you must tell yourself, Enough is enough, and make up your mind to cry no more. Never forget that self-pity is deadly. It has the capacity to destroy your faith and lock you in a self-imposed exile that is difficult to escape. The bottom line is you will never change your life by feeling sorry for yourself.

Listen for the Sound of Marching

There is an interesting story in 2 Samuel 5 about the time when David and his army were in the Valley of Rephaim (rephaim means giants). They were camped under a grove of mulberry trees. In the Hebrew language, the mulberry tree is called the baka tree or, literally, Òthe weeping tree. In other words, when the army of Israel was in the valley of giant trouble, they sat under the weeping trees. That is what we often do when we find ourselves in the valley of big-time trouble--we sit under the weeping tree. But God gave David a strategy to defeat the Philistines in the Valley of Giants. He told David, ÒWhen you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the mulberry trees, then you shall advance quickly. If David would follow these instructions, the promise was, Òthe Lord will go out before you to strike the camp of the Philistines.

I like that! God instructed David to listen for a sound that could be heard above the mulberry trees--a sound that could be heard above the weeping. It was the sound of marching. What was it? I think it must have been the sound of the angels, the armies of heaven, going forth into battle! When all you can hear is the sound of your own weeping, listen with your spiritual ears for the sound of the angels of God marching into your battle to defeat your adversaries. If you will dry your tears and rise up from under your weeping tree, you can march forward into the battle with the angels. There is a way to move from weeping into victory.

I have seen people who have allowed their grief to conquer them. It's sad and tragic. Their faith atrophies as they languish under the weeping trees. They become so absorbed in their own sorrow that they take it on as their new identity. Instead of passing through the valley of weeping--they make a decision to take up residence there. Natural sorrow, when indulged for too long, will cause you to develop a dark and morose personality that will attract demon spirits of depression. No matter what tragedy has visited your life, you still have a divine destiny and an eternal purpose in God that have the potential to bring you joy and satisfaction. Don't allow grief to conquer you! You don't have to stay in the sad place where you find yourself right now. It is possible to rise up and take the steps of faith that will carry you toward a better tomorrow.

The Book of 2 Kings tells an amazing story of four lepers outside the gate of Samaria who had suffered more than their share of hard times. They all had an incurable disease. They were separated from their families and friends, and now they were besieged by famine. They could have easily allowed themselves to be conquered by their grief, and few would have blamed them. But instead, they asked themselves one simple question: Why sit we here until we die?

These four men weren't just lepers; they were philosophers of a sort. In their miserable plight, they posed a philosophical question to themselves: Why should we just sit here until we're dead? People who have been overwhelmed with sorrow often ask all the wrong questions--questions like: Why me? What did I do to deserve this? How much more will I have to endure? But this was not the question that the four lepers outside the gate of Samaria asked. They simply asked themselves, ÒWhy sit we here until we die? Of course, this is a rhetorical question designed to reveal the absurdity of inaction and thus spur them to some kind of positive action. They chose to shake off their depression and to rise up from the miserable place where they had been sitting. With hope renewed, they took faltering steps of faith and marched into a better tomorrow. By rising up and moving forward in faith, they not only found a better tomorrow for themselves, but they also brought salvation to a dying city.19 You can do the same thing. You can rise up out of your miserable situation and begin to move toward a better tomorrow.

On the worst day of your life you will weep. This is inevitable and understandable. David did, and you will too. It's all right to release the poison of pent-up emotional pain through weeping. But remember, although weeping may last for a night, there will come a dawn of faith when you need to stop weeping and start believing. To turn your tragedy into triumph, you will have to go beyond weeping.

First Wild Card Blog Tour--Illusions by Wanda B. Campbell

2009-03-25T15:42:00.000-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Wanda B. Campbell

and the book:

Illusions

Urban Books (February 1, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

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

An avid reader since childhood, Wanda recently responded to the voice in her head by penning and self-publishing her debut novel, First Sunday in October, (January 2007). A romantic at heart, Wanda uses relationships to demonstrate how the power of forgiveness and reconciliation can restore us back to God and one another.

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

Visit the author's website.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.95
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Urban Books (February 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1601629435
ISBN-13: 978-1601629432

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Prologue

Bryce, having been married for a little over three years, stared appreciatively at the bare woman before him. By all accounts, she was everything he physically desired in a woman; ample and curvaceous from top to bottom. Her honey colored legs seemed to go on forever. He could look at her perpetually and never get tired of the view she provided. Bryce had an arsenal of beautiful women at his disposal, but she was his favorite. He could drink the sweetness of her lips through eternity and still thirst for more.

Bryce often wondered how he ended up with such a beautiful and voluptuous woman, considering he was just an average looking man, and short at that. Bryce was only 5’9’’ tall. He didn’t house the physique of a body builder, but he did wear his 200 pounds well. Thanks to his love for Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, Bryce didn’t have a six pack, but a slightly budding pot belly. None of that mattered to the woman before him, though. To her, he was perfect. He was strong and secure. He was her king. Bryce was by far the best lover she’d ever had, and each time that they came together was always better than the time before.

Bryce blocked everything from his mind except her. He moaned deeply as his mind focused on the soft kisses she planted all over him and as her hands massaged him in places only known to her. He leaned back, allowing her full access to all parts of him. Bryce was hers and she could do whatever she wanted to do with him. The semi-sweet chocolate brother was all hers and she knew it. Bryce was so engrossed in his woman, he lost track of time. The knock on his office door brought him back to reality.

“Are you ready, Sir?” the voice on the other side of the door asked.

“I’ll be right out,” Bryce responded after steadying his breath.

He quickly closed the magazine and discreetly tucked it away in its hiding place between the wall and the tank of the toilet. After fastening his pants and belt, he washed his hands without looking in the mirror. He could never look himself in the face after an encounter with the woman he nicknamed, Daija.

Back at his desk, Bryce hurriedly put on his suit jacket and tucked his Bible and notebook under his arm then headed for the sanctuary. It was time for Pastor Bryce Hightower to preach the Word of God.

Chapter 1

Out of habit, Pastor Hightower greeted the elders and ministers seated on the platform with his customary handshake and brotherly hug. He continued the ritual by kneeling before his reserved leather chair and praying. The elders and ministers extended opened hands in Pastor Hightower’s direction, symbolic of touching and agreeing for the Lord to anoint their pastor to preach a powerful Sunday sermon. Pastor Hightower was too busy repenting for the defiled behavior he’d just participated in to be concerned about his sermon.

Being certain his cries for forgiveness reached heaven, Pastor Hightower rose to his full height, raised his hands with closed eyes and joined the congregation singing Total Praise along with the Praise & Worship ministry. Once seated, Pastor Hightower’s gaze drifted to the end seat on the front row. The overgrown smile that covered his face gave the appearance of being manufactured, but was genuine. That’s just the way Pastor Hightower smiled. Every facial muscle appeared strained whenever he displayed his perfectly straight white teeth. Pastor Hightower added a wave with the smile he afforded his wife. When Denise smiled back, the pastor mouthed the words, “I love you,” causing Denise to blush and cover her face. Satisfied that he still carried the ability to make his wife excited, Pastor Hightower directed his attention to his sermon. He grunted at scripture text then quickly closed his black leather organizer.

“How can I stand before these people and talk about Samson’s lust and weakness with Delilah?” Bryce’s heart asked the question, but his distorted mind blocked an honest answer from coming forth.

Pastor Hightower squeezed his eyes close in an attempt to shut out his conscience like he always did before mounting the podium and preaching another message he was incapable of living. Today, his evasion tactic worked too well. In no time, Pastor Hightower’s reality merged with fantasy, and in place of Samson, it was Pastor Hightower with the beautiful Delilah in the Valley of Sorek. It was his head lying in Delilah’s lap enjoying the feel of her soft expert fingers as they explored, sending a soft moan from his lips.

“Honey, are you alright?”

Pastor Hightower’s head jerked forward at the sound of his wife’s voice. His imagination had drawn him so deep into the illusion that he hadn’t heard Minister Jackson call him to the podium. He hadn’t noticed the entire congregation standing, waiting to hear the words the Lord had given him. When he didn’t respond after the third call, Denise rushed to his side and was now shaking him.

“Are you alright?” Denise questioned again.

Bryce mentally and frantically searched for an answer. He couldn’t tell his wife that the images he’d just experienced left him feeling better than alright. He also couldn’t lie in the sanctuary.

“Just mediating,” Pastor Hightower finally answered, then moved his head from side to side to demonstrate how “deep” he was.

Denise’s doubts dissipated once her husband rose to his feet and began speaking in tongues then started dancing the length of the platform.

Once he settled down, Pastor Hightower said, “Let’s pray,” and opened his Bible to the story of Daniel and the three Hebrew boys.

“Son, you know you preached today!” Lucinda stepped into Pastor Hightower’s office without knocking or being invited.

Bryce didn’t address the mother’s forwardness. Lucinda had been doing that since the day her daughter married Pastor Hightower. In Lucinda’s eyes, being the pastor’s mother-in-law had its privileges, and having free range of the church was one.

“Thank you, mother. I could feel you out there interceding for me.”

“That’s why you made me president over the Intercessory Prayer Ministry. You know I can get a prayer through. I can dismantle any attack of the devil once I start praying in the Spirit.”

Bryce studied his mother-in-law’s round face, searching her eyes for any indication that she was aware of how the devil not only attacked him, but triumphed over his will.

“Keep praying for me, Mother.” Bryce placed his Bible into his briefcase the same time Denise knocked and waited for permission to enter.

“Hello, First Lady.” Bryce leaned in to kiss Denise, but she didn’t reciprocate.

In the midst of the congregation was one thing, but behind closed doors, perpetrating wasn’t necessary. Before Bryce’s flirtation from the pulpit, he hadn’t spoken three words to her in as many days.

“Hello, Bryce,” Denise responded emotionless, almost cold.

“How dare you speak to your husband like that?” Lucinda scolded. “He’s a man of God. He deserves respect.”

“So do I, Mother!” Denise shot back. She glared at her husband. “And not just from the pulpit.” Denise continued holding his gaze.

Holding on to her anger was useless. Bryce knew with every squeeze Denise’s anger was evaporating. By the time his lips reached her neck, she couldn’t remember why she was mad in the first place.

“Stop.” She playfully hit him then returned his kiss.

“You know you like that.”

Her mother cleared her throat. “It’s time for y’all to go home.” Before exiting, Lucinda addressed her daughter. “Let this be the last time I see or hear you disrespect my pastor. I don’t care if he is your husband.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she endured twenty-six hours of labor with you and not me.” Denise smirked.

Bryce didn’t respond to the statement, but asked Denise what she’d cooked for dinner.

“Me,” she answered flirtatiously and waited for his usual hungry response.

Bryce did respond, but neither fire nor desire radiated from him. His actions more closely resembled that of a convicted man being led off to prison, than that of a man needing to be alone with his wife. Bryce’s shoulders slumped and he inhaled deeply. With his third labored breath, he still hadn’t conjured up a tactful way to tell Denise he wasn’t interested in sex, at least not today and not with her.

Bryce held the office door open for his wife. “Let’s get something to eat first and then see what happens.”

Nothing happened. After dinner Bryce hibernated in his study until bedtime.

˜˜

Denise studied her husband’s stiff torso and wondered what had happened to her once stress-free life. When she married Pastor Bryce Hightower three years ago, everything was perfect. She was both honored and delighted to be the wife of an influential man of God. In the pulpit, Bryce preached powerful life-changing messages. It was one of those “hot” messages that burned Denise’s soul and steered her down the aisle to her heavenly Father that hot Sunday afternoon in August. Having grown up in the church, the daughter of a deacon, Denise was familiar with God, but had resisted making Him her personal Savior. That is, until she heard Pastor Hightower’s preaching. Bryce’s teaching gift afforded him the ability to philosophically preach the Word of God on a scholarly level, but what mesmerized Denise was listening to him break the same Word down to the understanding of a two-year-old.

That second Sunday in August was Denise’s first time in six years attending services at the church in which she’d grown up. She’d left the Bay Area to attend college. After graduating Fresno State, Denise decided to give California’s central valley a chance at residency. Unfortunately for Denise, the valley’s thermostat reached an all-time high at the same time California was forced to rely on rolling blackouts as a way to conserve energy. When Denise’s air conditioner broke down, she packed her belongings into her Honda and headed for cooler climate.

After confessing before God and the congregation of Word of Life that Jesus was the Son of God, died and resurrected to save her from sin, Denise rejoined the church to the delight of her mother and the newly appointed pastor. Denise didn’t have to wait long before discovering Pastor Hightower was interested in more than the well-being of her soul. Along with the standard new member’s welcome letter that she received, Pastor Hightower included a handwritten note with a dinner invitation. A brief consultation with her mother was all the confirmation Denise needed to accept. The lavish wedding eight months later was still a conversation piece three years later.

At home, Bryce couldn’t keep his hands off Denise. As a twenty-six-year-old virgin bride, that made her feel special, because she was apprehensive of her ability to meet her husband’s needs. Bryce had more experience and his choice of available women in his church, but he loved every inch of her voluptuous size sixteen. In the beginning, Denise thought his sexual appetite was a bit excessive, but what did she have for comparison? He certainly gave her unlimited pleasure. The least she could do was to return the favor and give her husband all the loving he wanted, which is what she did. The problem was, lately Bryce didn’t want any loving from her.

Admiring his sleeping body, Denise couldn’t figure out what had changed. As if someone had blown out a candle, the fire in their bedroom was instantly gone. Bryce barely touched her anymore, and when he did, it wasn’t the same. Denise didn’t feel that her husband cherished making love to her anymore, but felt more like he was simply obliging her. Bryce used to be slow and caring with her, making sure she was completely satisfied. Now, he seemed so engrossed in his own world, Bryce hadn’t even noticed Denise counting sheep during their last encounter.

Denise turned over on her side and gave her body a thorough examination. She was the same size she was the day she married Bryce. She kept her hands manicured and her feet always looked like they’d been freshly dipped in hot wax. Denise had a standing appointment with Kadijah at the Hair Haven salon every week, insuring she was always presentable. She also made sure she dressed in clothes that accented her fuller figure and kept her makeup flawless. So why had Bryce lost interest?

Denise’s job as Budget Director at the local medical conglomerate didn’t prevent her from cleaning the house and cooking balanced meals every night. In the bedroom, she used powders and potpourri to scent their bed and candles to freshen the air on a regular basis. Denise never wore flannel pajamas or hair rollers to bed, instead, opting for sexy lingerie and sometimes nothing at all, depending on Bryce’s mood. That’s what she’d done tonight. She climbed into bed wearing nothing but a smile, hoping to get Bryce’s attention. It worked. She held his attention the entire five seconds it took for him to say goodnight, and then turn his back to her.

At church and public appearances, things were the same as they always had been. Not a Sunday went by that Pastor Hightower didn’t acknowledge his beautiful and devoted wife. “She’s the beat of my heart,” is what he’d say, or “the wind in my sail.” Denise was trained by the older mothers in the church so the young wife knew all the “insert smile here,” moments. Denise could put on the manufactured smile and nod in agreement faster than she could write her name. Every time Bryce preached, the devoted supporter provided him with his personal “Amen” corner. Tonight though, Denise was tired of the façade. If she couldn’t sleep, then neither would the perpetrating Pastor Bryce Hightower.

“Bryce, wake up.” She shook him until he groaned. “We need to talk.”

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” he grumbled.

“No it can’t,” Denise determined. “I’ve held this in long enough.”

Bryce sighed heavily, more out of irritation than fatigue. He turned over and sleepily looked at his wife. “What is it?”

His tone and demeanor told her this late night pillow talk would be fruitless. She pressed on anyway.

“Honey, what’s happening to us?”

“You’re pushing for a conversation that I don’t want to have. Aside from that, we’re fine.”

Denise’s heart sank because she knew Bryce really didn’t see anything wrong with their life. And why should he? He got every thing, including all the support and love from her that he needed.

“Bryce, we’re not fine. You haven’t touched me in over a month.” Denise pulled the sheet tightly around her. She hadn’t felt the need to conceal her body since their wedding night.

“Is that what’s this is about?” Bryce propped his body, using his elbow as support. “You woke me up because you want sex?”

Denise fought back the urge to cry. The expression on the face of her beloved husband was distorted and filled with distain. “It’s not just the lack of sex, Bryce. You hardly ever touch me at all anymore, and when we do have sex, it’s quick and routine. The only conversations we have are casual. You don’t even comment on how I look anymore.” Denise was able to say all that without losing her voice, but a tear had managed to escape and burned a trail down her cheek. Bryce noticed the tear and softened a little.

“Baby, come here.” He pulled her close to him and held her. She felt good to him and Bryce had to admit he missed her warm body against his. “I’m sorry.”

Denise tried to accept the comfort he offered her, but couldn’t just yet. It didn’t feel genuine. She held her head so she could gaze directly in his eyes. “Bryce, are you having an affair?”

The direct question seemed to have caught him off guard, causing Bryce to hesitate before answering. “No, I’m not having an affair. I’ve just been preoccupied with other things. Being a young pastor is a hard job.”

“Why can’t you share what’s on your mind with me? I’m your wife; I’m designed to help you.”

“I know.” Bryce kissed her forehead. “But some things I have to handle on my own.”

Denise placed her head against his chest. She didn’t say anything, just lay there listening to his heartbeat, wondering when it became out of sync with hers.

Bryce didn’t say anything either. He was fighting a war with his conscience and his spirit. He didn’t actually lie to Denise, or did he? He didn’t view his time with Daija as an affair. How could he have an affair with his imagination? True, the things he did with her, he should have been doing with his wife. The time he spent with his imaginary friend, could have been spent with his real-life wife. But when he finished with Daija, he was fulfilled and too tired to be with Denise. Bryce enjoyed being with Denise, but couldn’t let go of his fantasy. With Daija, Bryce was uninhibited and free, never having to worry about his desires being considered nasty or berated. That’s what it was. Daija allowed him to be free. What was so wrong with that? Everyone is entitled to a little fantasy. As long as he’s not having sex with anyone else, what was the harm?

If it’s right, why can’t you tell her?

As always, Bryce heard the still small voice loud and clear, but instead of responding, he closed his eyes in an attempt to prevent the truth from spilling from his lips. He wasn’t ready to face the truth. He didn’t really know what the truth was anymore. He believed he could stop his extra-curricular activity any time he wanted. Bryce just didn’t want to, but for Denise’s sake, he was going to try.

“I promise I’ll work on giving you more attention.” Then after a prolonged silence Bryce added, “I love you.”

Denise didn’t respond. The words, meant to be enduring, sounded void and hollow, but they were better than nothing. Bryce tightened his hold on her and she relaxed in his arms and fell asleep.

˜˜

Bryce mounted the podium and quickly scanned the audience. Something was not right. He closed his eyes tightly then reopened them just to make sure he was seeing correctly. He was. “Oh God,” he gasped, surveying the congregation. He stepped toward the edge of the platform, hoping to see Denise, but she wasn’t there. His eyes frantically searched for his mother-in-law. She wasn’t there either. The elders and deacons weren’t there to offer him the much needed prayer and support. Bryce slowly walked back to the podium, bowed his head and wept.

“Bryce.”

At the sound of her voice, Bryce’s cries stopped and he jerked around to find Daija occupying his leather chair, beckoning him with her index finger.

“No!” Bryce screamed, but the congregation, filled with the faces of the many women with whom he’d found pleasure, cheered him on.

“Daija, you can’t be here! Not in the church!” Bryce’s attempt to sound authoritative amused Daija and the rest of the congregation.

Daija stood on Bryce’s chair, and after throwing her long black hair over her shoulder, motioned to the congregation. “Why not, Bryce; you brought us here.” Daija smiled and struck one of Bryce’s favorite poses.

“Pastor Hightower, why don’t you save us?” someone in the audience mocked.

Bryce fell to his knees and sobbed uncontrollably, “God help me!”

Bryce bolted from his bed dripping with perspiration and shaking. The dream, like the one two nights ago, frightened Bryce with the implications, however true they were. Bryce was polluting the house of God and his addiction rendered him defenseless to stop the infection from spreading. This morning, Pastor Hightower had a reality check as images captivated his mind and lured him into lust as he sat in the pulpit, the holy place, waiting to present the Word of God. Never before had he been overtaken in the House of God. His prayers were rendered useless. In the past, he’d do his business, ask God to forgive him, then mechanically fulfill his pastoral duties. That didn’t happen today and now his demons haunted his dreams.

After stumbling into the master bath and splashing water unto his face, Bryce studied his mirrored reflection. Except for the extra inch around the middle and short haircut, Bryce looked the same as he did seventeen years ago, at age 17, when he was forced to face life alone following the unexpected and tragic death of his parents. It was while sorting through his father’s belongings that pornography was officially introduced to him.

He’d known about the “business” his father kept in the bottom nightstand drawer most of his teenage life, but assumed the magazines were nothing more than women in string bikinis. He soon found out differently and discovered porn was “therapeutic” in helping him deal with the loss of his parents. In some distorted way, when Bryce carried out his secret acts, he felt close to his father.

It didn’t start out as a daily ritual; maybe once a month to help relax him on days he felt overwhelmed. When that wasn’t enough, he added masturbation. Eventually, the old magazines weren’t enough to satisfy Bryce; he began purchasing his own collection.

At age twenty-one, he gave his virginity to a woman without knowing her real name. For the right price, she was willing to do the things he requested without complaining.

After joining the church at age twenty-five, Bryce felt convicted about his habit. He began to feel dirty after every encounter. For` a while, he stopped masturbating and purchasing magazines, but one session with his pastor changed his mind. Following Bryce’s confession, the late Reverend Daniels brushed off the habit as if it were no more than a piece of lint.

“Son, ain’t nothing wrong with looking at a beautiful woman,” Reverend Daniels had said, “just as long as you don’t touch. When you get a wife to enjoy, the need for those pictures will go away.” Reverend Daniels gave him a look whose meaning could only be interpreted between men.

Bryce soon learned that the church that he attended had its own version of the “good ole boys’ club.” It was a common thing for preachers and elders not only to lust with the eyes, but to also sleep with the sisters in the church. The indiscretions were usually swept under the rug unless the sister in question became pregnant or if her husband discovered the affair. Then the woman would be shunned from the church, but not without being labeled a “loose Jezebel” or a home wrecker. The preacher, however, would continue preaching, and in some cases, be elevated to a higher office in the church.

Bryce didn’t buy into the double standard and tolerated behavior set forth by his spiritual fathers. Eventually, Bryce lost respect and moved his membership after enrolling in Seminary. There, Bryce was too busy focusing on the Word of God and praying constantly for his imagination to run wild. The more he read the Bible and the more he prayed, the less desire he had for self gratification. The day Bryce graduated Seminary, he vowed to parallel his life with the standards set forth in the Bible. Bryce was determined to be a true man of God. “If I can’t live this Gospel, I won’t preach this Gospel,” was his slogan. He recited those eleven words faithfully before every sermon. The more he preached, the purer the pictures in his mind. The more he fasted, the less he fantasized, until eventually, the imagery stopped. That’s when he met Denise.

From the day he saw her standing before him at the altar, giving her life to God, Bryce loved her. Actually, he’d noticed her before mounting the podium. She carried her curves well with her five-foot seven-inch height. Bryce loved the fullness of her body, but even more so, the sweetness of her spirit. He still loved her, but he’d allowed

himself to become comfortable in his walk with God. Now, he was paying the price in his bedroom, in the pulpit, and in his dreams.

“Are you sick?” Bryce was too engrossed in his thoughts to notice Denise standing in the doorway.

He turned and stared at his wife hard and long as she leaned against the door frame. She’d put on a robe and her hair hung wildly at the nape of her neck. Her face, void of make-up, allowed Bryce to see the genuine love she held for him. A love that said, “Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”

When he didn’t answer, Denise asked the question again. Bryce slowly made the three steps that placed them an inch apart. He wanted to tell her that he was, in fact, very sick. That he had broken fellowship with God and that the line between reality and fantasy was so blurred, he couldn’t tell the difference anymore. He wanted to tell her the reason for his inattentiveness and reassure her of his love for her. Bryce didn’t say any of what made his heart ache to have released. He simply kissed her forehead and went back to bed.

Review forthcoming.

First Wild Card Tour--Milk Money

2009-03-04T10:11:00.001-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Cecelia Dowdy

and the book:

Milk Money (Maryland Wedding Series #2)

Barbour Publishing, Inc (2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cecelia Dowdy is a world traveler who has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember. When she first read Christian fiction, she felt called to write for the genre.She loves to read, write, and bake desserts in her spare time. Currently she resides with her husband and young son in Maryland.

Visit the author's website and blog.

Product Details:

Mass Market Paperback: 170 pages
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc (2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602602557
ISBN-13: 978-1602602557

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Dumbfounded, the accountant gazed at a cow giving birth. He dropped his briefcase when he saw the feet of the baby sticking out of the mother’s canal. A rope was looped around the legs of the young animal, and a brown-skinned woman pulled so hard that the muscles in her slender arms flexed. Her eyes squeezed shut while she grunted, reminding him of the noises people made when they bench-pressed weights.

She opened her eyes.

“Casey, hold on,” she cooed. When he watched the birth, his sour stomach worsened, and the bagel and cream cheese he’d managed to eat for breakfast felt like a dead weight in his belly. Her tears mingled with the sweat rolling down her face. She continued to pull and glanced in his direction. “Oh, thank God you came. Come and help me.”

A plethora of unfamiliar scents tingled his nose. He swallowed, losing his voice. What was he supposed to do? She continued to look at him, pulling on the rope periodically.

“I already left a message on your answering service that it was coming out backward.” Pushing the door open, he entered the room adjoining the barn, still hoping he wouldn’t throw up. She nodded toward the rope, still tugging. “With both of us pulling, maybe we’ll be able to get the calf out.”

“Okay.” He swallowed his nausea and pulled, mimicking the way he used to grunt when bench-pressing heavy weights. He followed her example, keeping tension on the rope and pulling each time the cow had a contraction. She grunted also, and their noises continued until the calf exited the birth canal minutes later. She dropped the rope, and he rushed behind her to look at the young animal. He touched the newborn,

awed by the birth. She glanced at him as she cleaned gunk off the calf ’s nose and mouth.

Her sigh filled the space when she noticed the animal was breathing. “Aren’t you going to examine the cow and calf?”

Before he could respond, a young man holding a large black plastic tote entered the pen. “This the Cooper farm?”

Confusion marred her face when she glanced at Frank. Then she focused on the new arrival. The newcomer rushed to the baby cow and began examining it. “I’m Dr. Lindsey’s son. I’m taking over my daddy’s practice this week since he’s on vacation. He told you that, didn’t he?”

She nodded, still looking confused. “I left a message on your answering service earlier.”

The vet grunted. “I was down the street at the horse farm helping out with another birth, so I couldn’t leave.”

“Are the cow and calf okay?”

“They both look fine.” He stopped his examination and looked at them. “I’m glad you had somebody helping you. You might not have gotten him out in time if you’d been pulling him on your own.” He pulled a tool out of his bag. “You have antibiotic on hand for the calf, right? If not, I’ve got some.”

The attractive woman nodded, her dark hair clinging to her sweaty neck as she promised the vet she would give the new calf the medicine. Frank watched, mesmerized by the whole process. A short time later, the newborn nursed from the mother. “Thank you, doctor,” said the woman, patting the man on the shoulder.

The doctor shook his head, placing his tools back into his bag. “Don’t thank me. You two got him out in time.” He told Emily he would send her the bill, and then he left the farm.

Emily glanced at Frank, as if taking in his khaki slacks and oxford shirt. Noticing his bloody hands, she beckoned him over to a room containing a sink and a large steel tank. After ripping off the long plastic gloves covering her hands and forearms

and dropping them into the trash can, she turned the water on, pumped out several squirts of soap, and washed. “I thought you were the vet,” she said, continuing to scrub her hands and forearms. “I’ve never met Dr. Lindsey’s son, so that’s why I

assumed you were him.” After rinsing, she pulled paper towels from a dispenser and gestured for Frank to use the sink.

Frank shrugged and walked to the sink, placing his hands under the running water. “Sorry. I helped you out, but I didn’t have any idea if I was doing it right. It’s probably good I showed up when I did. It looked like you’d been trying to help

that cow for a long time.”

She shook her head. “Cows are tough. They can be in labor for hours before giving birth. When you came, I’d just started pulling the calf out with the rope.” She continued to stare, frowning. “Well, if you’re not Dr. Lindsey’s son, then who are

you?”

He offered his recently washed hand, glad the nauseous feeling had evaporated from his stomach. “I’m Franklin Reese, Certified Public Accountant.”

Review is forthcoming.

First Wild Card Blog Tour (Married Strangers)

2009-02-26T00:02:00.003-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Dwan Abrams

and the book:

Married Strangers

Urban Books (December 1, 2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Dwan Abrams is a full-time novelist, freelance editor, publisher and speaker. She's the best-selling author of Married Strangers, Divorcing the Devil, Only True Love Waits, The Scream Within, and Favor (a short story appearing in The Midnight Clear anthology). She's also the founder, publisher and editorial director of Nevaeh Publishing, a small press independent publishing house.

Visit the author's website and blog.

Product Details:

List Price: $14.95
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: Urban Books (December 1, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1601629753
ISBN-13: 978-1601629753

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Rayna

Rayna’s eyes welled with tears as feelings of loneliness and disappointment overtook her emotions. All of the romance and passion she envisioned would occur during her honeymoon didn’t happen. She imagined that this would have been one of the happiest times of her life. Instead, she was miserable. She had already felt a sense of cognitive dissonance, better known as “buyer’s remorse,” after her new husband, Bryce, had promised to take her on an exotic vacation in Cancun. Yeah right! she thought. Here they were, two weeks before Christmas, in a log cabin at Forrest Hills Mountain Resort in Dahlonega, Georgia. It was a five day package that Bryce’s best friend, Fox, had given them for a wedding present. A friend whose nickname came as a result of not so savory sales tactics, Fox earned the nickname because, according to Bryce, he was slicker than a snake oil salesman. Rayna found it strange that Bryce would refer to his friend in such a derogatory manner. It vexed her spirit, and she immediately remembered Proverbs 27:19: A mirror reflects a man's face, but what he is really like is shown by the kind of friends he chooses.

Now Rayna faced a deeper problem, the dislike of her honeymoon location. Besides the fact that Rayna was not the outdoorsy type, hiking and horseback riding never appealed to her. She and Bryce had discussed at length where they would spend their honeymoon… on the beach. Rayna’s fondest memories are of her vacationing in the Bahamas, Hawaii, and different beaches in Florida. There was something about the tranquil waters that made her feel at peace; almost as if she was communing with God.

Bryce had promised her they’d go to Mexico. At the last minute, he told her that he was unable to get the time off from work. He worked as a field reporter, and although he could have gotten a few days off, it wouldn’t have been long enough. She was disappointed. Her heart was set on an exotic locale, not somewhere with frost on the trees and snow on the ground. She wondered whether she was catching a glimpse of what her life with Bryce would be like. Broken promises. Even with advance notice, he still wasn’t able to come through for their honeymoon. The only person she blamed was herself for not getting to know her husband better before marrying him. As far as Rayna was concerned, a year of knowing Bryce hadn’t been nearly enough time. Trying to deal with her regret seemed overwhelming at times.

Rayna considered herself to be spiritually intuitive. But this time, she ignored the signs. A couple of weeks before getting married, Rayna had a disturbing dream about her wedding day. In the dream, her wedding day was a fiasco. She couldn’t remember all of the details, but one thing was clear—her feelings throughout the dream were unpleasant. At one point she said, “I’m marrying the wrong man.” Having awoken with beads of sweat on her forehead, Rayna dismissed the dream as a case of wedding jitters.

Even though the log cabin was nice—hot tub, double showers, and fireplace—the problem was Bryce.

“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Bryce said as he kissed Rayna on the cheek.

“Morning.” She stretched her arms over her head.

The way Bryce said, “Mrs. Henderson,” sent shivers up her spine. To her, he sounded so macho at times. She found that whole “I’m Tarzan, you Jane” thing sexy.

“You hungry?” he asked.

She looked at the clock sitting on the wooden nightstand next to the canopy bed. The LED display read 9:00 a.m. in red digits.

“We need to hurry up before they stop serving breakfast,” she said.

Rayna wanted to escape out of bed and get dressed before Bryce touched her, again. His passionate desires seemed to be insatiable. Once, she asked him whether he had an implant or took drugs, because even after making love, Bryce’s physical disposition remained the same. Of course, he denied it. Most women would love to have a man who could last for hours. For Rayna, it didn’t take all that. Not if he knew what he’s doing. Unfortunately, Bryce wouldn’t know how to satisfy her if she were an air traffic controller directing him from the lighthouse. She remembered hearing that sex comprised only two percent of a relationship, if it’s good. But when it’s not-so-good, it’s about ninety-eight percent, she thought. Having an ungratifying sex life made it difficult for her to appreciate the good things about Bryce. Like the way he’d rub her feet whenever they sat next to each other on the couch, or the way he’d give her an all over body massage.

“Let’s take communion first,” Bryce suggested, revealing a devilish grin.

Communion was Bryce’s way of asking for physical intimacy, and she thought it was sweet. He had this good guy, bad boy routine down to a science. Rayna looked over at him and immediately became turned on. Her husband was hot. Brad Pitt and George Clooney had nothing on Bryce. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his smooth, hairless chest was toned and muscular. She noticed that his abs workout was working, because the lining of a six-pack was visible. She thought he was sexy. Too bad he can’t deliver.

“Not right now,” she grumbled.

It amazed Rayna how her husband could have so much going on—good looks, a body like a Greek Adonis, sex appeal, a smile that could light up a room, yet he didn’t know how to straighten her hair and curl her toes, so to speak. It’s not like she hadn’t expressed her dissatisfaction to Bryce. He knew full well that she was frustrated; yet he wouldn’t do anything to change it. Every time she wanted to try something new or different, he called her sadistic. Her feelings were crushed. More than anything, she wanted to please him, and in the process, get pleased. His inflexibility made Rayna feel less desirable and unappreciated.

She got out of the king-sized bed, walked across the hardwood floor, and went into the double showers. Thankfully, the water running down her face camouflaged the tears streaming down her cheeks. Rayna felt as if she had made a terrible mistake by marrying Bryce. After they consummated their marriage a couple of nights ago, she went into the bathroom and cried. How could two people be so physically incompatible? she thought. She had never heard of such a thing, especially not with married couples. She wondered what she had done to deserve such an unfulfilling union. Silently, she prayed.

Lord, forgive me for my sins. Please help me deal with this marriage. Whatever sin is blocking me from being a good wife, I ask that you remove it. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen.

As she exited the shower and wrapped her body in a towel, Bryce entered the bathroom. He embraced Rayna, and she melted. Her desire to be close to him was overwhelming; then the thought of being disappointed crept in and immediately turned her off. Not because she didn’t love him, because she did. It was more because of his indifferent attitude. When they made love, she sensed that his thoughts were elsewhere. He wouldn’t look at her, and that bothered her. She wondered whether it was because he was white, and she was black. Then she quickly dismissed that notion because Bryce didn’t seem to have a racist bone in his body. His expectation of going all the way at the slightest hint of affection made her hesitant to hug or kiss him. She couldn’t even rub her hand along her leg without him getting turned on.

Freeing herself from his toned arms, she looked at his disappointed face and said, “I saved you some hot water. I’m going to get dressed.”

She went back into the bedroom. Since it was cold outside, she slipped into a cashmere sweater, jeans and boots. Her hair was styled in a short, curled “do” like the actress Halle Berry.

Several minutes later, Bryce came from out of the shower. “You look nice,” Bryce complimented as he dried off, and changed into a gray mock neck sweater, jeans and Timberlands.

“Thanks. So do you.”

They put on their coats and gloves and left the cabin. Rayna noticed there was frost on the surrounding trees. They walked to the couples-only “Secret Garden” dining room, which happened to be a few feet away.

The hostess, dressed in a sweater and jeans, said, “Are you on your honeymoon?”

“Yes,” Bryce replied, smiling. “How could you tell?”

Rayna felt like saying, “Because we’re in the couples-only dining room,” but she refrained. In Bryce’s defense, they could’ve been dating and vacationing together, she reasoned.

“You have that glow about you,” the hostess replied.

Bryce looked at Rayna lovingly, and grabbed her gloved hand.

“It’s a buffet,” the hostess explained, smiling. “Seat yourself wherever you like.”

Thank goodness, Rayna thought. Every time they went out to eat, Bryce always asked the waiter or waitress, “What do you recommend?” It used to bother Rayna, so she asked him why he did that. He told her that it eliminated the guesswork. “Who better to tell you about the food than the people who work at the restaurant?” Bryce replied. She understood, but never adopted that philosophy. She enjoyed scanning the selections. When she would narrow her choices down to two entrées, then she would ask the waiter or waitress for their opinion. Her indecisiveness tended to bother Bryce, but she didn’t care.

They sat at a table surrounded by large, panoramic windows. They took off their coats and gloves and placed them on an empty chair.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the hostess asked.

“Two hot teas with sugar and lemon,” Bryce replied.

“And an orange juice,” Rayna added.

After the hostess took their drink orders, they got up and each fixed themselves a plate. The food looked scrumptious and fresh. Rayna had the cheese grits, scrambled eggs and bacon. Bryce filled his plate with French toast and sausage links.

They went back to their table, and Bryce led them in prayer.

“Father, thank you for this food and fellowship. I pray that this meal is nourishing to our minds and bodies. In Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.

She mixed her eggs with the grits and crumpled bacon on top. Then she stared out the window. Trees for as far as the eyes could see… acres and acres of secluded woodlands. Her thoughts drifted to the first time she and Bryce met.

They were standing in line at the cafe in the Barnes & Noble off Cobb Parkway in Atlanta. After striking up a general conversation, Bryce paid for her latte. He seemed intelligent, not to mention handsome, with that sandy blond hair and green eyes. So when he asked for her phone number, she gave it to him.

Rayna went home immediately afterward. Within twenty minutes, her phone rang. It was Bryce, asking her to go out with him.

“When can I see you, again?” Bryce asked.

“How about tomorrow night?” she responded in a flirtatious tone.

“Great.” He sounded excited. “Where would you like to go?”

“Pizza Hut,” she laughed.

“Pizza Hut?” She could tell by the influx in his voice that he had expected her to name some fancy restaurant.

“Yes.”

Besides the fact that Pizza Hut was her favorite pizza establishment, she didn’t want Bryce to feel as though she were trying to take advantage of him. When they met, he was dressed in a suit. Not a cheap suit either. Rayna checked his shoes and Bryce wore black Kenneth Cole. He seemed to be doing pretty well. Even still, Rayna had wanted to get to know him personally. At the time, she was not impressed by the fact that by all appearances, he could have taken her to an expensive restaurant.

The following day, he picked Rayna up at her apartment in a rental car and took her to Pizza Hut. While at the restaurant, he explained to her that he actually lived in Chicago and was in Atlanta on business. He worked as a field reporter and was chronicling a news story. He also wrote a newspaper column. His profession seemed exciting to Rayna, because she had written numerous poems and short stories. One day, she planned to write a full-length book. Speaking with a real life reporter/writer fascinated her. As he told Rayna about his travels and how he became a writer, she hung on his every word.

“I have always been fascinated by the written word,” Bryce explained. “You know, it’s funny how I became a columnist,” he chuckled. “A friend of mine used to write a column for Chicago Tribune. She got a promotion and recommended me for her old job.”

“Wow! That was a major blessing.” Rayna smiled.

“I know,” he laughed. “Especially since I had just graduated from college.”

Rayna was not surprised to hear about Bryce’s accomplishments. He seemed so eloquent, well- spoken, cultured, and poised. When they arrived at the restaurant, they talked incessantly. She felt as though she were in a therapy session, because he was so easy to talk to.

“Where are you from?” Bryce asked, looking at her.

“I grew up in Orlando, but my parents and I moved to Georgia about…” she rolled her eyes upward, “ten years ago.” She took a bite of pepperoni pizza.

“Tell me about your family.”

She held up her index finger while she chewed the pizza. After she swallowed, she said, “I’m an only child. My mom’s a pharmacist, and my dad’s a neurologist. What about your family?”

“I have two older brothers and two younger sisters. I’m the middle child. I spent a great deal of my childhood being raised by my grandmother.”

“What happened to your parents?”

He sipped a glass of soda, or “pop” as he called it. “My dad died of a heart-attack when I was five, and I don’t have a good relationship with my mother.”

Curious. Rayna was taken aback. What kind of guy doesn’t get along with his mother? she wondered.

“My brothers and sisters have the same father, and I have my own father,” he explained. “As you can imagine, I was the black sheep.”

“You’re the middle child, yet you have a different dad?” she said more of a statement than a question, trying to make sure she understood him correctly.

“Yes. My mom was married, but she had an affair. I’m the result.” He stared at a scratch in the wooden table before taking a sip of his sparkly drink.

Rayna cleared her throat, not really knowing what to say. His candor surprised her.

He looked at her and sucked in his cheeks as if he were sucking a lemon. “My mom’s marriage suffered because of it, but they stayed together and had my twin sisters.”

“Then why did you have to stay with your grandmother?” She tilted her head to the side.

He looked her in the eye and said seriously, “Because my stepdad didn’t treat me the same as the other kids. He was harder on me. My mom figured that with me out of the house, the family could be put back together.”

“That’s terrible.” She furrowed her brow.

She felt sorry for him. Rayna hadn’t expected to learn such personal information about him on their first date. In a strange way, seeing him in such a vulnerable state attracted her to Bryce. She had finally met a man who was in touch with his feelings and knew how to convey them. Something in his almond shaped eyes expressed sadness. She could tell that his hurt ran deep. He was so nice that she wanted to help him.

Bryce squeezed Rayna’s hand, which was resting on top of the table, and said, “What were you thinking about?”

Rayna had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t even realized that the hostess had placed their drinks on the table.

“How do you know I was thinking?” she answered, smiling. “I could’ve been admiring the scenery.”

“You might’ve started out doing that, but I can tell by the way your eyes shifted downward and to the right that you were remembering something.”

He’s so analytical, she thought. He pays attention to everything. That’s what she gets for hooking up with a brain-iac.

“I was thinking about us,” she admitted. “I can’t believe that after six months of being engaged, we’re finally married.”

Rayna’s decision to marry Bryce was an easy one. He proposed to her three months after they met. They had been talking on the phone every day, several times per day. Maintaining a long distance relationship wasn’t easy. She missed him terribly and wanted companionship. She was twenty years old and a sophomore at Mercer University. Bryce was three years her senior. They were deeply in love.

“Rayna,” he said, interrupting her thoughts once again. “I love you so much,” he grinned sheepishly, licking his pink lips.

“I love you, too.” She gave a faint smile.

“You don’t understand. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anybody, including my own mother. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you, Rayna,” Bryce declared.

Somehow, hearing Bryce say he loved her more than his mother disturbed her, because although she loved him, she didn’t think it could be compared to the love she has for her parents. Never had she met anyone who could make her remotely think that she loved them more than either one of her parents. She couldn’t even imagine. Then again, she thought, Bryce’s relationship with his mother was strained. So was it really far-fetched for him to love someone more than her?

Even though she believed him wholeheartedly, Rayna wasn’t sure how to respond to his statement. The first time Bryce ever told Rayna that he loved her was one week after they met. It caught her completely off guard. She found it peculiar, because she thought it was too soon for them to exchange those three little words that carry a whole lot of weight. She didn’t say it back to him, because she didn’t take saying, “I love you” lightly.

Marrying Bryce seemed to make logical sense to Rayna. He was an avid reader, had an incredible vocabulary, and was well-versed in many different things. And she couldn’t deny the obvious. Bryce was fine and saved. And in Rayna’s opinion, that was definitely a plus. Not to mention that he’s a visionary and ambitious. One of the things Rayna admired about him was the fact that he knew a little about a wide array of subjects. He was able to discuss anything with anyone ranging from jazz music to the Greek classics to the Bible. And her parents loved him. Before deciding to commit, Rayna had a conversation with her Aunt Sylvia, which persuaded Rayna to marry Bryce.

Aunt Sylvia and Rayna had a close-knit relationship. She was Rayna’s mother’s younger sister, in her forties, and has never been married. Based on what she had told her aunt, like the way Bryce would call throughout the day, or send flowers, or take Rayna to nice restaurants, Sylvia was convinced that Bryce loved Rayna. What tilted the scale in Bryce’s favor was when Aunt Sylvia said, “Girl, what are you dragging your feet for? Do you know how hard it is to find a man who wants to get married?”

Rayna was glad when the hostess returned and asked, “How’s the food?”

“Fine,” she replied. That way, she didn’t have to acknowledge Bryce’s declaration.

He bit into his French toast. “Delicious.”

Rayna picked up her cloth napkin and wiped the powdered sugar off Bryce’s full lips. His lips don’t look like the average white boy. Not Mick Jagger, but luscious and sexy. He smiled a dimpled smile. She could tell he appreciated the gesture. They finished their breakfast and walked back to their cabin, glove in glove. As they breathed the cold, crisp air, smoke formed every time they exhaled.

Back in the cabin, Bryce started a fire in the gas log fireplace. They took off their shoes, wrapped themselves in a colorful quilt, and cuddled in front of the blazing fire. It was quite romantic. Rayna closed her eyes, listened to the crackling noises being emitted from the fireplace, and imagined that Bryce would ravish her body and leave her feeling satisfied. Fantasizing and praying helped her get through the remaining three days of her honeymoon. Thankfully, she had her fantasies.

Countdown Calendar for Friday's Event

2009-02-17T17:44:00.000-05:00

First Wild Card Tour--John's Quest (Book Review)

2009-02-11T09:34:00.003-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Cecelia Dowdy

and the book:

John's Quest (Maryland Wedding Series #1)

Barbour Publishing, Inc (2008)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Cecelia Dowdy is a world traveler who has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember. When she first read Christian fiction, she felt called to write for the genre.She loves to read, write, and bake desserts in her spare time. Currently she resides with her husband and young son in Maryland.

Don't miss the second book in the Maryland Wedding Series, Milk Money!

Visit the author's website and blog.

Product Details:

Mass Market Paperback: 170 pages
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc (2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1602600066
ISBN-13: 978-1602600065

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The loud banging at Monica Crawford’s front door awakened her. Forcing herself out of bed, she glanced at the clock and saw it was two in the morning.

“I’m coming!”

She ran to the door. Looking through the peephole, Monica saw her little sister Gina smiling at her.

Her heart pounded as she opened the door, gripping the knob. “What are you doing here?” Playing an internal game of tug-of-war, she wondered if she should hug her sister or slam the door in her face. Humid heat rushed into the air-conditioned living room. She stared at Gina, still awaiting her response.

“It’s nice to see you too, sister.” Gina pursed her full, red-painted lips and motioned at the child standing beside her. “Go on in, Scotty.”

Gina had brought her seven-year-old son with her. Dark shades hid his sightless eyes. “Aunt Monica!” he called.

Monica released a small cry as she dropped to her knees and embraced him. “I’m here, Scotty.” Tears slid down her cheeks as she hugged the child. Since Gina had cut herself off from immediate family for the last two years, Monica had wondered when she would see Scotty again. “You remember me?” Her heart continued to pound as she stared at her nephew. His light, coffee-colored skin glowed.

“Yeah, I remember you. When mom said I was going to live here, I wanted to come so we could go to the beach in Ocean City.”

Shocked, Monica stared at Gina who was rummaging through her purse. Gina pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Seconds later she was puffing away, gazing into the living room. “You got an ashtray?”

Monica silently prayed, hoping she wouldn’t lose her temper. “Gina, you know I don’t allow smoking in this house.”

Gina shrugged. After a bit of coaxing, she dropped the cigarette on the top step and ground it beneath the heel of her shoe. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Scotty entered the house and wandered through the room, ignoring the adults as he touched objects with his fingers. After Monica fed Scotty a snack and let him fall asleep in the guest bedroom, she confronted Gina.

“Where have you been for the last two years?”

Gina strutted around the living room in her tight jeans, her high heels making small imprints in the plush carpet. “I’ve been around. I was mad because Mom and Dad tried to get custody of Scotty, tried to take me to court and say I was an unfit mother.”

Groaning, Monica plopped onto the couch, holding her head in her hands. “That’s why you haven’t been speaking to me or Mom and Dad for two years?” When Gina sat beside her, Monica took her sister’s chin into her hand and looked into her eyes. “You know you were wrong. Mom and Dad tried to find you. They were worried about Scotty.”

Jerking away, Gina placed a few inches between herself and Monica. “They might have cared about Scotty, but they didn’t care about me.” Gina swore under her breath and rummaged in her purse. Removing a mint, she popped it into her mouth.

“They were worried about you and Scotty,” Monica explained. “You were living with that terrible man. He didn’t work, and he was high on drugs. We didn’t want anything to happen to the two of you.”

Gina’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. “Humph. Me and Scotty are just fine.” She glanced up the stairs. “You saw him. Does he look neglected to you?”

She continued to stare at Gina, still not believing she was here to visit in the middle of the night. “What do you want? What did Scotty mean when he said he was coming here to live?”

Gina frowned as she toyed with the strap of her purse. “I want you to keep Scotty for me. Will you?”

Monica jerked back. “What? Why can’t you take care of your own son? Did that crackhead you were living with finally go off the deep end?”

Gina shook her head. “No, we’re not even together anymore. It’s just that. . .” She paused, staring at the crystal vase of red roses adorning the coffee table. “I’m getting married.”

Monica’s heart skipped a beat. “Married?”

Gina nodded, her long minibraids moving with the motion of her head. “Yeah, his name is Randy, and he’s outside now, waiting for me in the car.”

Monica raised her eyebrows, suddenly suspicious. “Why didn’t you bring him inside? Are you ashamed of him?”

Gina shook her head. “No. But we’re in a hurry tonight, and I didn’t want to waste time with formalities.”

“You still haven’t told me why you can’t keep Scotty. Does your fiancé have a problem with having a blind child in his house?”

Gina scowled as she clutched her purse, her dark eyes darting around the room. “No, that’s not it at all.”

“Uh-huh, whatever you say.” She could always sense when Gina was lying. Her body language said it all.

“Really, it’s not Scotty’s blindness that bothers Randy. It’s just that—he’s a trapeze artist in the National African-American Circus and they’re traveling around constantly.” Her dark eyes lit up as she talked about her fiancé. “This year they’ll be going international. Can you imagine me traveling around the globe with Randy? We’ll be going to Paris, London, Rome—all those fancy European places!” She grabbed Monica’s arm. “We’d love to take Scotty, but we can’t afford to hire a tutor for him to travel with us.”

“You’re going to marry some man and travel with a circus?!” Monica shook her head, wondering when her sister would grow up. At twenty-seven, she acted as if she were still a teenager. Since Monica was ten years older, she’d always been the responsible sibling, making sure Gina behaved herself.

Gina grabbed Monica’s shoulder. “But I’m in love with him!” Her eyes slid over Monica as if assessing her. “You’ve never been in love? I think it’s odd that you’re thirty-seven and you never got married.”

Monica closed her eyes for a brief second as thoughts of her single life filled her mind. Since her breakup with her serious boyfriend two years ago, she’d accepted that God wanted her to remain single, and she spent her free time at church in various ministries. She filled her time praising God and serving Him, and she had no regrets for the life she led. But whenever one of the church sisters announced an engagement, she couldn’t stop the pang of envy that sliced through her.

Forcing the thoughts from her mind, she focused on Gina again. “This discussion is not about me. It’s about you. You can’t abandon Scotty. He loves you.”

Gina turned away, as if ashamed of her actions. “I know he does, and I love him, too. But I really want things to work out with Randy, and it won’t work with Scotty on the road with us. He needs special education since he’s blind.”

Her heart immediately went out to Scotty. She touched Gina’s shoulder. “Scotty knows you’re getting married?”

Gina nodded. “I didn’t tell him how long I would be gone, but I told him I’d call and visit. Please do this for me.” Her sister touched her arm, and her dark eyes pleaded with her. She opened her purse and gave Monica some papers. “I’ve already had the power of attorney papers signed and notarized so that you can take care of him.” She pressed the papers into Monica’s hand.

“How long will you be gone?” asked Monica.

“The power of attorney lasts for six months. Hopefully by then me and Randy will be more settled. I’m hoping after the world tour he’ll leave the circus and find a regular job.”
Monica frowned, still clutching the legal documents.

“Please do this for me, Monica,” she pleaded again.

She reluctantly nodded. If she didn’t take care of Scotty, she didn’t know who would.

John's Quest by Cecelia Dowdy is a touching story about Monica Crawford who finds herself caring for her blind nephew, Scotty. Scotty has some behavioral issues and needs help with his studies, so John French enters the picture to tutor him. Although Monica and John are attracted to one another, they are torn because Monica is a Christian and John is agnositc. Will John see the light?

John's Quest was not a page turner for me. There were parts of the story that seemed a bit rushed, and I would have liked for the events to have unfolded better. The story itself seemed predictable. Long before reaching the ending, I had already figured most of it out. At times I felt that the dialogue was too stiff. Even when the three best friends conversed, they still used well thought out sentences. Overall, the author's writing style was polished and the story was sweet; however, I wouldn't consider this book to be a "must read."

First Wild Card Tour--The God i Don't Understand (Book Review)

2009-02-10T09:43:00.006-05:00

Today's Wild Card author is:

Dr. Chris Wright

and the book:

The God i Don’t Understand

Zondervan (January 1, 2009)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

As the successor to John Stott, Dr. Chris Wright is the current international director of the Langham Partnership International. John Stott Ministries is the constituent member of LPI in the United States.

Dr. Wright, as the youngest of four children born to missionary parents, learned early that, “All our mission should be grounded in theological reflection, and all theology must result in missional outworking.” His words are a reflection of a lifetime of commitment to the strengthening of the church in the developing world through fostering leadership development, biblical preaching, literature, and doctoral scholarships.

With a degree in theology and a PhD in Old Testament ethics from Cambridge University, Dr. Wright felt a call to teach and followed that call in a high school in his birthplace, Belfast, Northern Ireland. His background includes pastoring a local parish church and teaching at a leading evangelical seminary in India—Union Biblical Seminary—and at All Nations Christian College, England, where he served as dean and president for more than thirteen years.

He and his wife, Liz, live in London and have four adult children and five grandchildren.

Product Details:

List Price: $19.99
Hardcover: 224 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (January 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310275466
ISBN-13: 978-0310275466

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

The Mystery of Evil

It’s all very well to say, “Turn to the Bible”, but you can read the Bible from cover to cover, again and again, looking for a simple, clear answer to the question of the ultimate origin of evil, and you won’t find an answer. I am not talking here about the entry of evil into human life and experience in Genesis 3, which we will think about in a moment, but about how the evil force that tempted human beings into sin and rebellion came to be there in the first place. That ultimate origin is not explained.

This has not stopped many people from trying to come up with an answer for themselves and dragging in whatever bits of the Bible they think will support their theory. But it seems to me that when we read the Bible asking God, “Where did evil come from? How did it originally get started?” God seems to reply, “That is not something I intend to tell you.” In other words, the Bible compels us to accept the mystery of evil. Notice I did not say, “compels us to accept evil.” The Bible never does that or asks us to do so. We are emphatically told to reject and resist evil. Rather, I mean that the Bible leads us to accept that evil is a mystery (especially in terms of its origin), a mystery that we human beings cannot finally understand or explain. And we will see in a moment that there is a good reason why that is so.

Moral Evil

However, in one sense, there is no mystery at all about the origin (in the sense of the actual effective cause) of a great deal of suffering and evil in our world. A vast quantity – and I believe we could say the vast majority – of suffering is the result of human sin and wickedness. There is a moral dimension to the problem. Human beings suffer in broad terms and circumstances because human beings are sinful.

It is helpful, I think, even if it is oversimplified, to make some distinction between what we might call “moral” evil and “natural” evil. This is not necessarily the best kind of language, and there are all kinds of overlaps and connections. But I think it does at least articulate a distinction that we recognize as a matter of common sense and observation.

By “moral” evil is meant the suffering and pain that we find in the world standing in some relation to the wickedness of human beings, directly or indirectly. This is evil that is seen in things that are said and done, things that are perpetrated, caused, or exploited, by human action (or inaction) in the realm of human life and history. To this we need to link spiritual evil and explore what the Bible has to say about ‘the evil one” – the reality of satanic, spiritual evil forces that invade, exploit, and amplify human wickedness

By “natural” evil is meant suffering that appears to be part of life on earth for all of nature, including animal suffering caused by predation and the suffering caused to human beings by events in the natural world that seem (in general anyway) to be unrelated to any human moral cause – things like earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis, tornadoes and hurricanes, floods, etc., that is, so-called “natural disasters”.

In the case of moral evil, sometimes there is a direct link between sin and suffering. For example, some people directly cause other people to suffer through violence, abuse, cruelty, or just sheer callousness and neglect. Or sometimes people suffer directly the effects of their own wrong actions. Someone who drives too fast or drinks too much and ends up killing themselves in a road accident suffers the direct impact of their own sin or folly. Or we may suffer the punishment of the laws of our society for wrongdoing. Being put in prison is a form of suffering and in that respect it is an evil thing. And yet we recognize that some form of punishment for wrongdoing is a necessary evil. More than that, we have a strong instinct that when people are not punished when they are guilty of wrongdoing, that is another and even greater evil. Punishment, when deserved as a part of a consensual process of justice, is a good thing too.

But there is also a vast amount of suffering caused indirectly by human wickedness. The drunken driver may survive, but kill or injure other innocent people. Wars cause so-called “collateral damage”. Stray bullets from a gang fight or bank robbery kill innocent bystanders. A railway maintenance crew goes home early and fails to complete inspection of the track; a train is derailed and people are killed and injured. Whole populations suffer for generations after negligent industrial contamination. We can multiply examples from almost every news bulletin we see or hear. These are all forms of moral evil. They cause untold suffering, and they all go back in some form or another to culpable actions or failures of human beings.

Somehow, we manage to live with such facts, simply because they are so common and universal that we have “normalized” them, even if we regret or resent them and even if we grudgingly admit that humanity itself is largely to blame. But whenever something terrible on a huge scale happens, like the 2004 tsunami, or the cyclone in Myanmar in 2008, or the earthquakes in Pakistan, Peru, and China, the cry goes up, “How can God allow such a thing? How can God allow such suffering?” My own heart echoes that cry and I join in the protest at the gates of heaven. Such appalling suffering, on such a scale, in such a short time, inflicted on people without warning and for no reason, offends all our emotions and assumptions that God is supposed to care. We who believe in God, who know and love and trust God, find ourselves torn apart by the emotional and spiritual assault of such events.

“How can God allow such things?” we cry, with the built-in accusation that if he were any kind of good and loving God, he would not allow them. Our gut reaction is to accuse God of callousness or carelessness and to demand that he do something to stop such things.

But when I hear people voicing such accusations – especially those who don’t believe in God but like to accuse the God they don’t believe in of his failure to do things he ought to do if he did exist – then I think I hear a voice from heaven saying:

“Well, excuse me, but if we’re talking here about who allows what, let me point out that thousands of children are dying every minute in your world of preventable diseases that you have the means (but obviously not the will) to stop. How can you allow that?

“There are millions in your world who are slowly dying of starvation while some of you are killing yourselves with gluttony. How can you allow such suffering to go on?

“You seem comfortable enough knowing that millions of you have less per day to live on than others spend on a cup of coffee, while a few of you have more individual wealth than whole countries. How can you allow such obscene evil and call it an economic system?

“There are more people in slavery now than in the worst days of the pre-abolition slave trade. How can you allow that?

“There are millions upon millions of people living as refugees, on the knife-edge of human existence, because of interminable wars that you indulge in out of selfishness, greed, ambition, and lying hypocrisy. And you not only allow this, but collude in it, fuel it, and profit from it (including many of you who claim most loudly that you believe in me).

“Didn’t one of your own singers put it like this, ‘Before you accuse me, take a look at yourself.’ ”1

So it seems to me that there is no doubt at all, even if one could not put a percentage point on the matter, that the vast bulk of all the suffering and pain in our world is the result, direct or indirect, of human wickedness. Even where it is not caused directly by human sin, suffering can be greatly increased by it. What Hurricane Katrina did to New Orleans was bad enough, but how much additional suffering was caused by everything from looters to bureaucratic incompetence? HIV-AIDS is bad enough, but how many millions suffer preventable illness and premature death because corporate and political greed and callousness put medicines that are affordable and available in the West totally out of their reach? What the cyclone did to Myanmar was horrendous, but its effects were multiplied by the characteristically brutal refusal of the government to allow international aid organizations into the country until weeks later. Human callousness undoubtedly precipitated the death of thousands and prolonged the misery of the survivors.

The Bible’s Diagnosis

In a sense, then, there is no mystery. We suffer because we sin. This is not to say, I immediately hasten to add, that every person suffers directly or proportionately because of their own sin (the Bible denies that). It is simply to say that the suffering of the human race as a whole is to a large extent attributable to the sin of the human race as a whole.

The Bible makes this clear up front. Genesis 3 describes in a profoundly simple story the entry of sin into human life and experience. It came about because of our wilful rejection of God’s authority, distrust of God’s goodness, and disobedience of God’s commands. And the effect was brokenness in every relationship that God had created with such powerful goodness.

The world portrayed in Genesis 1 and 2 is like a huge triangle of God, the earth, and humanity.

GOD

HUMANITY THE EARTH

Every relationship portrayed was spoiled by the invasion of sin and evil: the relationship between us and God, the relationship between us and the earth, and the relationship between the earth and God.

Genesis 3 itself shows the escalation of sin. Even in this simple story, we can see sin moving from the heart (with its desire), to the head (with its rationalization), to the hand (with its forbidden action), to relationship (with the shared complicity of Adam and Eve). Then, from Genesis 4–11, the portrayal moves from the marriage relationship to envy and violence between brothers, to brutal vengeance within families, to corruption and violence in wider society and the permeation of the whole of human culture, infecting generation after generation with ever-increasing virulence.

The Bible’s diagnosis is radical and comprehensive.

• Sin has invaded every human person (everyone is a sinner).

• Sin distorts every dimension of the human personality (spiritual, physical, mental, emotional, social).

• Sin pervades the structures and conventions of human societies and cultures.

• Sin escalates from generation to generation within human history.

• Sin affects even creation itself.

We read a chapter like Job 24, and we know it speaks the truth about the appalling morass of human exploitation, poverty, oppression, brutality and cruelty. And, like Job, we wonder why God seems to do nothing, to hold nobody to account, and to bring nobody to instant justice.

“Why does the Almighty not set times for judgment?

Why must those who know him look in vain for such days?

There are those who move boundary stones;

they pasture flocks they have stolen.

They drive away the orphan’s donkey

and take the widow’s ox in pledge.

They thrust the needy from the path

and force all the poor of the land into hiding.

Like wild donkeys in the desert,

the poor go about their labor of foraging food;

the wasteland provides food for their children.

They gather fodder in the fields

and glean in the vineyards of the wicked.

Lacking clothes, they spend the night naked;

they have nothing to cover themselves in the cold.

They are drenched by mountain rains

and hug the rocks for lack of shelter.

The fatherless child is snatched from the breast;

the infant of the poor is seized for a debt.

Lacking clothes, they go about naked;

they carry the sheaves, but still go hungry.

They crush olives among the terraces;

they tread the winepresses, yet suffer thirst.

The groans of the dying rise from the city,

and the souls of the wounded cry out for help.

But God charges no one with wrongdoing

Job 24:1–12 (my italics)

And then we shudder because we know that if God were to do that right now and deal out instant justice, none of us would escape. For whatever grades and levels of evil there are among people in general, we know that it is something that lurks in our own heart. The evil we so much wish God would prevent or punish in others is right there inside ourselves. None of us needs to be scratched very deep to uncover the darker depths of our worst desires and the evil action any of us is capable of, if pushed. As we try to stand in judgment on God, we don’t really have a leg to stand on ourselves.

If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,

Lord, who could stand?

Psalm 130:3

Answer: Not a single solitary one of us.

And even apart from such latent or overt evil within ourselves, there is also the fact that it is practically impossible to live in this world without some complicity in its evil or some benefit from evils done elsewhere. We have to get on with living, and as we do so, our lives touch hundreds of other human lives – all over the planet – for good or ill. We are connected to the vast net of human experience worldwide. We may not be directly to blame for the sufferings of others, but we cannot ignore the connections.

The shirt on my back was made in an Asian country. I have no way of knowing if the hands that stitched it belong to a child who hardly ever sees the light of day, never has a square meal, or knows what it is to be loved and to play, and who may by now be deformed or even dead by such cruelty. But it is likely too that such wickedness is woven into the fabric of more than my shirt. In the week I write this, several major international companies in the UK are under investigation for profiting from virtual slave labour (a few pence an hour) in the majority world. Doubtless I have bought goods from some of them. Injustice and suffering plagues the global food industry, such that it is probable that some of what I eat or drink today is likely to have reached my table tinged with exploitation and oppression somewhere in the chain. The hands that have contributed to my daily bread undoubtedly include hands stained by the blood of cruelty, injustice, and oppression – whether inflicted or suffered.

Evil has its tentacles through multi-layered systems that are part of globalized reality. We can, of course, (and we should) take steps to live as ethically as possible, to buy fair-traded food and clothes, and to avoid companies and products with shameful records in this area. But I doubt if we can escape complicity in the webs of evil, oppression, and suffering in the world entirely. I say that not to turn all our enjoyment of life into guilty depression. Rather, as we enjoy the good gifts of God’s creation, we must at the same time accept the Bible’s diagnosis of how radical, pervasive, and deeply ingrained sin has become in all human life and relationships.

Only God in his omniscience can unravel such inter-weavings of evil, but the point the Bible makes is that it puts the blame for suffering and evil where most of it primarily belongs, namely on ourselves, the human race. The Bible makes it equally clear that we cannot just draw simple equations between what one person suffers and their own personal sinfulness. Often it is terribly wrong to do so (and makes the suffering even worse, as Job discovered). But in overall, collective human reality, the vast bulk of human suffering is the result of the overwhelming quantity and complexity of human sinning. There is no mystery, it seems to me, in this biblical diagnosis, which is so empirically verified in our own experience and observation.

Where Did Evil Come From?

It is when we ask this question that our problems begin.

It is important to see that Genesis 3 does not tell us about the origin of evil as such. Rather, it describes the entry of evil into human life and experience. Evil seems to explode into the Bible narrative, unannounced, already formed, without explanation or rationale. We are never told, for example, how or why “the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made” (Gen. 3:1). We are not told why it spoke as it did, though the very fact that it did should raise our suspicion that something is not right in God’s good creation. But why such “not-right-ness” was there, or where it had come from – these questions are not answered in the text.

What then can we say about this mysterious source of temptation that led Eve and Adam to choose to disobey? It was not God – evil is not part of the being of God. It was not another human being – evil is not an intrinsic part of what it means to be human either. We were human once without sin, so we can be so again. It was something from within creation – and yet it was not a “regular” animal, since it “talked”. And how could such evil thoughts and words come from within a creation that has seven times been declared “good” in chapters 1–2? Whatever the serpent in the narrative is, then, or whatever it represents, it is out of place, an intruder, unwelcome, incoherent, contrary to the story so far.

If evil, then, comes from within creation in some sense (according to the symbolism of the story in Genesis 3), but not from the human creation, the only other created beings capable of such thought and speech are angels.2 So, although the connection is not made in Genesis 3 itself, the serpent is elsewhere in the Bible symbolically linked to the evil one, the devil (e.g., Rev. 12:9; 20:2). And the devil is portrayed elsewhere as an angel, along with other hosts of angels who rebelled against God along with him (2 Peter 2:4; Jude 6; Rev. 12:7–9).

What, then, is the devil or Satan?

First of all, he (or it) is not God. Nor even just some other god. The Bible makes it very clear that we are not to fall into any kind of dualism – a good god (who made the world all nice and friendly), and an evil god (who messed it all up). Some kinds of popular folk Christianity do slide in that direction and give to Satan far more assumed power and far more obsessive attention than is warranted by the Bible. And such dualism is the meat and drink of a large amount of quasi-religious fiction, which sadly many Christians read with more frequency and more faith than their Bibles.

But Satan is not God, never has been and never will be. That means that, although the Bible clearly portrays Satan as powerful indeed, he is not omnipotent. Likewise, although Satan is said in the Bible to command hosts of other fallen angels (demons) who do his dirty work, he is not omnipresent. Satan cannot be everywhere at once (as only God can be and is). And although the Bible shows Satan to be very clever, subtle, and deceitful, he is not omniscient. He does not know everything and does not have sovereign knowledge of the future in the way God has in carrying forward his plans for creation and history.

As an angel among other fallen angels, even as their prince, the devil is a created being. That means that he is subject to God’s authority and ultimate control. Like everything else in creation, Satan is limited, dependent, contingent – and ultimately destructible. We should take Satan seriously, but we should not dignify him with greater reality and power than is proper for a creature.

But is the devil personal? Is Satan a person like us? Is he a person like God?

We must be careful in answering this question. It seems to me that there are dangers in either a simple yes or no. On the one hand, the Bible clearly speaks about the devil in many ways that we normally associate with persons. He is an active agent, with powers of intelligence, intentionality, and communication. That is, the Bible portrays the devil as acting, thinking, and speaking in ways that are just like the way we do such things and are certainly greater than any ordinary animal does. When the devil is around in the Bible, it is clear that the Bible is talking about more than just some abstract evil atmosphere or tendency or a merely metaphorical personification of evil desires within ourselves – individually or collectively. The Bible warns us that, in the devil, we confront an objective intelligent reality with relentless evil intent. And the Gospels reinforce this assessment in their description of the battle Jesus had with the devil throughout his ministry. The devil, says the Bible, is very real, very powerful, and acts in many ways just like the persons we know ourselves to be.

But on the other hand, there is one thing that the Bible says about us as human persons that it never says about the devil, or about angels in general, at all. God made us human beings in God’s own image. Indeed, this is what constitutes our personhood. What makes human beings uniquely to be persons, in distinction from the rest of the nonhuman animal world, is not the possession of a soul,3 but that human beings are created in the image of God. The human species is the only species of which this is true. We were created to be like God, to reflect God and his character, and to exercise God’s authority within creation.

Even as sinners, human beings are still created in God’s image. Though it is spoiled and defaced, it cannot be eradicated altogether, for to be human is to be the image of God. So even among unregenerate sinners there are God-like qualities, such as loving relationships, appreciation of goodness and beauty, fundamental awareness of justice, respect for life, and feelings of compassion and gentleness. All these are dimensions of human personhood, for all of them reflect the transcendent person of God.

Now we are not told in the Bible that God created angels in his own image. Angels are created spirits. They are described as servants of God who simply do his bidding. They worship God and carry out God’s errands. The common word for them in the Old Testament simply means “messengers”.[AQ2] Don’t misunderstand: this is not meant in anyway to diminish the exalted status and function that angels have in the Bible. It is simply to note that they are distinguished from human persons. And ultimately it is the human, in and through the man Christ Jesus, who will take the supreme place in the redeemed created order (Heb. 2). Personal qualities are the unique possession of human beings because, as God’s image, we are the only beings in creation who were uniquely created to reflect God’s own divine personhood.

So, among the fallen angels, especially the devil himself, there is no trace of that image of God which is still evident even in sinful human beings. And this is most easily explained if we assume it was never there in the first place. In Satan there is no residual loving relationship, no appreciation of goodness or beauty, no mercy, no honour, no “better side”, no “redeeming features”. And most of all, whereas no human person, however evil and degraded, is ever in this life beyond our loving compassion and our prayers that they might repent and be saved, there is no hint whatsoever in the Bible that Satan is a person to be loved, pitied, prayed for, or redeemed. On the contrary, Satan is portrayed as totally malevolent, relentlessly hostile to all that God is and does, a liar and a murderer through and through, implacably violent, mercilessly cruel, perpetually deceptive, distorting, destructive, deadly – and doomed.

“So, Do You Believe in the Devil?”

Faced with this question I feel the need to make a qualified “yes and no” answer. Yes, I believe in the existence of the devil as an objective, intelligent and “quasi-personal” power, utterly opposed to God, creation, ourselves, and life itself. But no, I do not “believe in the devil”, in any way that would concede to him power and authority beyond the limits God has set. The Bible calls us not so much to believe in the devil as to believe against the devil. We are to put all our faith in God through Christ and to exercise that faith against all that the devil is and does – whatever he may be. Nigel Wright makes this point very well:

To believe in somebody or something implies that we believe in their existence. But it also carries overtones of an investment of faith or trust.… To believe in Jesus means, or should mean, more than believing in his existence. It involves personal trust and faith by virtue of which the power of Christ is magnified in the life of the believer. The access of Christ to an individual’s life, his power or influence within them, is in proportion to their faith. The same use of language applies in the wider world. To believe in a political leader implies more than believing in their existence; it implies faith in the system of values for which they stand and confidence in their ability to carry it through.

The reply to the question should Christians believe in the devil must therefore be a resounding ‘No!’ When we believe in something we have a positive relationship to that in which we believe but for the Christian a positive relationship to the devil and demons is not possible. We believe in God and on the basis of this faith we disbelieve in the devil … Satan is not the object of Christian belief but of Christian disbelief. We believe against the devil. We resolutely refuse the devil place.

… The power of darkness against which we believe has its own reality. Even though it has a reality it lacks a validity – it ought not to exist because it is the contradiction of all existence. Its existence is unthinkable even as it is undeniable. It exists, but for the Christian it exists as something to be rejected and denied.4

That is why Paul urges us to “put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes” (Eph. 6:11 my italics). That is why Peter, as soon as he has warned his readers about the devil’s predatory prowling, urges them to resist him – not pay him the compliment of any form of “believing”: “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith” (1 Peter 5:8–9).

That is why one of the most ancient formulas of the church, in the baptism liturgy, calls upon Christians undergoing baptism to “renounce the devil and all his works”. That is probably also why, when a popular series of books on Christian doctrines, the “I Believe” series of Hodder and Stoughton, came to the doctrine of Satan, it did not follow the simple formula of other volumes (e.g. I Believe in the Historical Jesus; I Believe in the Resurrection). There is no book in the series with the title, I Believe in Satan, but rather and quite rightly, I Believe in Satan’s Downfall.

The Fall of Angels?

So the Bible tells us that the devil and his hosts are rebel angels. But what does the Bible teach us about this so-called fall of the angels? Well, actually, it doesn’t really “teach” anything clearly or systematically, though we do get a number of hints that point in that direction.

Isaiah 14:4–21 and Ezekiel 28:1–17 are poems that “celebrate” the fall of the kings of Babylon and Tyre respectively. They are typical of the taunting songs of lament that were used when great imperial tyrants were brought low and the world breathed a sigh of relief. Some Christians see in these two songs a kind of symbolic portrayal of the fall of Satan. However, we do need to remind ourselves that they were written originally to describe the defeat and death of historical human kings, and so it is a dubious exercise to try to build detailed doctrinal statements about the devil or the “underworld” upon them. Nevertheless, we may discern the fingerprints of Satan in what is described in these poems, since it is clear that these arrogant human beings were brought low because of their blasphemous pride and boasting against God. Indeed, they are portrayed as wanting to usurp God’s throne. In the poem, such claims are probably metaphorical for the human kings’ hybris, but they have a spiritual counterpart that is recognizably satanic.

Jude, 2 Peter, and Revelation give us some clearer affirmations of the fall of Satan and his rebel angels:

And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their proper dwelling – these he has kept in darkness, bound with everlasting chains for judgment on the great Day.

Jude 6

God did not spare angels when they sinned, but sent them to hell, putting them into chains of darkness to be held for judgment.

2 Peter 2:4

And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But he was not strong enough, and they lost their place in heaven. The great dragon was hurled down – that ancient serpent called the devil, or Satan, who leads the whole world astray. He was hurled to the earth, and his angels with him.

Revelation 12:7–9

That seems to be it, as far as direct Bible references to this matter are concerned. In our curiosity, we ask for more information, such as:

• When did this happen?

• Why did created angels turn to become rebellious?

• Were the angels themselves tempted by something evil, as the serpent tempted Eve?

• If so, how did such evil come into existence?

• Where did the evil come from that led created angels to fall, who then led humans to fall?

But for such questions, we get no answer from the Bible. We are simply never told. Silence confronts all our questions. The mystery remains unrevealed.

Now God has revealed to us vast amounts of truth in the Bible – about God himself, about creation, about ourselves, our sin, God’s plan of salvation, the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, the future destiny of the world, and so on. Thus, in light of all this abundant revelation, the Bible’s silence at this point on the ultimate origin of evil seems all the more significant, and not merely accidental. It’s not as if God were now saying, “Oops, I forgot to mention that point, but never mind, they can figure it out for themselves.” No, the truth is that God has chosen in his wisdom not to give us an answer to our questions about the ultimate origin of evil within creation. It is simply not for us to know – and that is God’s sovereign decision, the prerogative of the one who is the source of all truth and revelation in the universe.

Now I think there is a good reason for this, but before we turn to that, let us briefly summarize what we’ve seen so far, so that we can keep track of our reflection.

We have argued that a vast amount of the suffering and evil in the world can be explained in relation to human wickedness, directly or indirectly. Evil has a fundamentally moral core, related to our moral rebellion against God.

But we also know from the Bible that at the point where this entered into human experience and history (the fall as portrayed in Genesis 3), it involved our human collusion with some preexisting reality of evil, a sinister presence that injected itself into human consciousness, invited us to stand over against God in distrust and disobedience, and then invaded every aspect of human personhood – spiritual, mental, physical and relational – and every aspect of human life on earth – social, cultural and historical.

But if we ask, “Where did that preexisting evil presence come from?” – we are simply not told. God has given us the Bible, but the Bible doesn’t tell us.

So then, to return to the title of this chapter, the Bible compels us to accept the mystery of evil. But here’s the key point: we can recognize this negative fact. We know what we don’t know. We do understand that we cannot understand. And that in itself is a positive thing.

Why is that?

Evil Makes “No Sense”

It is a fundamental human drive to understand things. The creation narrative shows that we have been put into our created environment to master and subdue it, which implies gaining understanding of it. To be human is to be charged with ruling creation, and that demands ever-growing breadth and depth of understanding the created reality that surrounds us. The simple picture in Genesis 2 of the primal human naming the rest of the animals is an indication of this exercise of rational recognition and classification. Our rationality is in itself a dimension of being made in the image of God. We were created to think! We just have to investigate, understand, explain; it is a quintessentially human trait that manifests itself from our earliest months of life.

So then, to understand things means to integrate them into their proper place in the universe, to provide a justified, legitimate, and truthful place within creation for everything we encounter. We instinctively seek to establish order, to make sense, to find reasons and purposes, to validate things and thus explain them. As human beings made in God’s image for this very purpose, we have an innate drive, an insatiable desire, and an almost infinite ability to organize and order the world in the process of understanding it.

Thus, true to form, when we encounter this phenomenon of evil, we struggle to apply to it all the rational skill – philosophical, practical, and problem-solving – that we so profusely and successfully deploy on everything else. We are driven to try to understand and explain evil. But it doesn’t work. Why not?

God with his infinite perspective, and for reasons known only to himself, knows that we finite human beings cannot, indeed must not, “make sense” of evil. For the final truth is that evil does not make sense. “Sense” is part of our rationality that in itself is part of God’s good creation and God’s image in us. So evil can have no sense, since sense itself is a good thing.

Evil has no proper place within creation. It has no validity, no truth, no integrity. It does not intrinsically belong to the creation as God originally made it nor will it belong to creation as God will ultimately redeem it. It cannot and must not be integrated into the universe as a rational, legitimated, justified part of reality. Evil is not there to be understood, but to be resisted and ultimately expelled. Evil was and remains an intruder, an alien presence that has made itself almost (but not finally) inextricably “at home”. Evil is beyond our understanding because it is not part of the ultimate reality that God in his perfect wisdom and utter truthfulness intends us to understand. So God has withheld its secrets from his own revelation and our research.

Personally, I have come to accept this as a providentially a good thing. Indeed, as I have wrestled with this thought about evil, it brings a certain degree of relief. And I think it carries the implication that whenever we are confronted with something utterly and dreadfully evil, appallingly wicked, or just plain tragic, we should resist the temptation that is wrapped up in the cry, “Where’s the sense in that?” It’s not that we get no answer. We get silence. And that silence is the answer to our question. There is no sense. And that is a good thing too.

Can I understand that?

No.

Do I want to understand that?

Probably not, if God has decided it is better that I don’t.

So I am willing to live with the understanding that the God I don’t understand has chosen not to explain the origin of evil, but rather wants to concentrate my attention on what he has done to defeat and destroy it.

Now this may seem a lame response to evil. Are we merely to gag our desperate questions, accept that it’s a mystery, and shut up? Surely we do far more than that? Yes indeed.

We grieve.

We weep.

We lament.

We protest.

We scream in pain and anger.

We cry out, “How long must this kind of thing go on?”

And that brings us to our second major biblical response. For when we do such things, the Bible says to us, “That’s OK. Go right ahead. And here are some words that you may like to use when you feel that way.” But for that, we must turn to our next chapter.

Eric Clapton, “Before You Accuse Me”, from the album Eric Clapton Unplugged.

2 It is interesting that the only other time an animal is said to speak in biblical narrative is Balaam’s donkey, and on that occasion an angel is also involved. See Numbers 22.

3 Genesis 2:7 is sometimes said to be the moment when God breathed a soul into Adam. But this is exegetically impossible. The ”breath of life’” means the breath shared by all animals that live by breathing (as in Gen. 1:30 and 6:17), and “living being” is the same term used for all “living creatures” (e.g., in Gen. 1:24, 28). The verse speaks of special intimacy in the relationship between God and his human creation, but not of a “soul” as distinct from animals. The distinguishing mark of the human is being made in the image of God.

4 Nigel G. Wright, A Theology of the Dark Side: Putting the Power of Evil in Its Place (Carlisle: Paternoster; 2003), 24–25 (my italics).

The God i Don't Understand took a deep look at questions of faith. I enjoyed reading this book, because although the author poses the tough questions, the answers always come back to the Word of God. The author conveyed the message in a way that regardless of where the reader may be in their spiritual walk, they will still walk away with their faith intact. What I really liked about this book was that the author lets the reader know that it's okay to ask questions; however, it's not all right to lose your faith or challenge God in a disrespectful manner. I highly recommend this book!

2009 Book Tour Schedule

2009-01-17T00:45:00.002-05:00

January 19 --Podcast Interview, www.writtenvoicespodcast.com.
January 24 --Words of Inspiration (WOI) Book Club Meeting, Divorcing the Devil featured book selection, Mojito Restaurant & Lounge, 125 10th St., Atlanta, GA, 5:00-7:00 p.m.
February 3--SORMAG Workshop, Instructor: How to be Your Own Publicist, 7:00-8:00 p.m. EST, For only $25, register at http://sormag.blogspot.com
February 11--First Wild Card Blog Tour, John's Quest, http://dwanabrams.blogspot.com
February 12 --Victorious Voice Radio Interview, http://www.blogtalkradio.com/victoriousvoice, 6 p.m. EST
February 20 --Best-Selling Author Dwan Abrams Presents: Go Red for Women! Love Your Heart! Wear Red. Book reading, discussion, and signing. Dessert and coffee will be available for sale. Book sales will benefit the American Heart Association, Barnes & Noble Booksellers Camp Creek Parkway, 3685 Marketplace Blvd., East Point, GA, 6:30-8:30 p.m.
February 21 --Book Reading/Signing, Redan-Trotti Library, 1569 Wellborn Rd, Lithonia, GA, 12:00-1:00
February 27--First Wild Card Blog Tour, Married Strangers, visit http://dwanabrams.blogspot.com for tour stops
March 4--First Wild Card Blog Tour, Milk Money, http://dwanabrams.blogspot.com
March 10--SORMAG Workshop, Instructor: Self-Publishing vs. Traditional Publishing, 6:00-7:00 p.m. EST, For only $25, register at http://sormag.blogspot.com
March 11 --Let's Talk LIVE Blog Radio Show, http://www.blogtalkradio.com/letstalklive, 8 p.m. EST
March 28 --Borders Book Signing, Stonecrest Mall, 2929 Turner Hill Rd., Lithonia, GA 2:00-4:00 p.m.
April 7--SORMAG Workshop, Instructor: Do You Really Need an Editor, 6:30-7:30 p.m. EST, For only $25, register at http://sormag.blogspot.com
April 22-24 --Romantic Times Convention, Inspirational Author Panelist, Wyndham Orlando Resort, 8001 International Drive, Orlando, FL
April 24-26 --Taping for "The Write Stuff" Reality TV Show, http://www.thewritestufftv.webs.com/, Atlanta, GA.
July 16-19 --Faith and Fiction Retreat, Author Panelist, The Villas of Grand Cypress, 1 N. Jacaranda St., Orlando, FL
September 5-6--Charlotte Literary Festival, Featured Author, Charlotte, NC

Married Strangers

2008-12-15T19:24:00.003-05:00

Synopsis: What do you do when you think you've married the wrong person? If anybody has ever found themselves asking that question, it's Rayna. And coming up with the answer is no easy feat as far as she's concerned.

Shortly after getting married, Rayna discovered that marriage is not all it was cracked up to be. On the outside, she appears to be the happily married newlywed, but on the inside, she secretly wants out of this marriage that she knows she entered into for all the wrong reasons. And now she knows that she needs to get out of the marriage for all the right ones; because she's not physically compatible with her husband.

Her friend, Aja, has problems of her own. She's dealing with baby momma drama and sometimes regrets her decision to get married, too.

Shania is in love and recently engaged…until she uncovers a secret that could rip her world apart. Will she even make it to the altar?

These three main characters in Married Strangers takes the question of "Why Did I Get Married?" to a whole other level.

Married Strangers is available wherever books are sold, including Barnes & Noble, Borders, WaldenBooks, Books-a-Million and Wal-Mart. It's also available online at Amazon.com, bn.com and Black Expressions.

Autographed Books

2008-12-15T19:22:00.000-05:00

My birthday was this past Saturday. Some of my relatives came in from out-of-town to spend the day with me. We had a wonderful time celebrating the release of my fourth novel, Married Strangers. I actually have some books on hand. I figured that since so many of my online friends live in different states, it's difficult to include you in the festivities. So I thought of something. Here's the deal. You can order an autographed copy of Married Strangers and/or Divorcing the Devil for $15 each or 2 for $25. That includes shipping and handling. If you order two books, one or both titles, you'll get a FREE tote bag (while supplies last).

You can either mail a check or money order payable to Dwan Abrams, P.O. Box 962, Redan, GA 30074-0962 or use PayPal dwanabrams1@aol.com. Remember to include your complete mailing address as well as the name of the person you want the book inscribed to.

Just my way of saying "thank you" for all of your support. Happy Holidays! Books make wonderful gifts.

Get to Know Me Better

2008-09-08T22:04:00.000-05:00

Author Interview, Dwan Abrams on www.rhondamcknight.net.

Today I welcome author, Dwan Abrams to Urban Christian Fiction. Dwan resides in an Atlanta suburb and she's a member of Visions in Print Writer's Group. Although we see each other monthly at our meetings, I didn't really get to know Dwan until we attended the Faith and Fiction Retreat a few weeks ago. She and I shared the back seat of the car and a bathroom, so you know that was going to make or break a potential friendship. Well, I'm happy to report the sistergirl bond is stronger. She was a pleasure. I'd hang my towel anywhere with her.

Dwan, welcome! (Cyberhug, girl). Tell us about your novel, Divorcing the Devil.
Divorcing the Devil took me approximately six months to write, and it's a story of true love and forgiveness. For Skyler Little, it's not easy being a psychoanalyst and a Christian. Sometimes it's hard not getting drawn into her patients' personal lives filled with adultery, abuse and turmoil. Yet, she remains steadfast in providing them with the best in Christian counseling. She even counsels her friend, Gabriella, who has just learned that her husband is cheating on her. But when Skyler learns whom Gabriella's husband is cheating on her with, things start to spiral out of control, and she is now caught in the middle. Can Skyler get herself out of this situation, or can anyone be spared when you try to divorce the devil?
Divorcing the Devil (Urban Christian)..

What inspired you to write Divorcing the Devil?
I was inspired to write Divorcing the Devil while attending a birthday party for a friend. The lady sitting next to me was a psychoanalyst. Since I had never met a psychoanalyst, I was intrigued and wanted to learn more about the profession. That's when the character, Dr. Skyler Little, was created. She's the common thread of every character in the book.

Tell us about your journey to publication.
When I initially entered the literary arena, I had one of the agents listed on the predator's list. Of course, I didn't know that at the time. When I finally found out, I was devastated. I was so frustrated that I seriously considered giving up writing altogether. I'm thankful that I did not obey my flesh. Instead, I followed my spirit… at least partly. I released my first novel in 2004, and it was self-published. It was also a secular novel. Not long after that, I read my first Christian fiction novel and realized that was the genre in which I was intended to write. I quickly finished my first inspirational novel, Only True Love Waits, which won the 2007 Pen of the Writer POWER Award. Within four months after releasing Only True Love Waits, I had contributed a short story to the Christian anthology, The Midnight Clear, and completed the manuscript for Divorcing the Devil. The funny thing is that I only submitted Divorcing the Devil to one publishing house, Urban Christian, an imprint of Urban Books/Kensington. From there, I landed a two-book deal.

You own a small press, Neveah Publishing. Tell us about your company and how you got started and where it's going.
Nevaeh Publishing is a small press independent publishing house. From the beginning, the company was founded to assist other authors with their publishing endeavors. I currently haven't published any of my own titles through my company.

I wanted to become a publisher because I know how difficult it can be for first time authors to get published. It is also another form of ministry. Although we publish books in various genres, we are committed to publishing quality books that don't contain profanity or explicit sex scenes.

In 2009, we intend to release six new titles. Our goal is to further develop our brand and establish ourselves as a reputable organization. Additionally, we want to increase our distribution and attract more established authors. In regards to new authors, we want to continue working closely with them and educate them on the industry.

Okay, so you are superbusy, how do you manage to do it all? I really don't know. LOL! For the most part, I compartmentalize my life. If I'm working on a manuscript, I pace myself according to my deadline.

I also work as a freelance editor, which can be very time consuming. When I have an editing assignment, I usually devote as much time as necessary to completing the task in a timely manner. Some times that means forgoing working on my own manuscript. Even still, I try not to go too long without working on my manuscript. The characters just won't let me. They start talking and that's that.

In regards to the publishing house, I have help. In the beginning, I used to edit the manuscripts myself. Now I don't have to do that. I have editors to assist me.

When it comes to my family, I make time. Since my daughter is only five years old, she requires a lot of my time and attention. I'm careful not to shortchange her. Because she is a priority in my life, I try to get most of my work done while she's at school and the rest after she goes to bed.

Believe it or not, I spend at least an hour a night taking a relaxing bath and reading a book. I have to do something to unwind.

What's been the most exciting thing about Divorcing the Devil's release? There have been quite a few exciting things about the release of Divorcing the Devil. When I first started receiving emails from readers, in various geographical locations, telling me that they got my book in some small town that I had never heard of, that was exciting. Then there was the time that a friend of mine saw my book prominently displayed at a Barnes and Noble in New York, that was exciting, too.

One thing that I have really enjoyed is the overwhelmingly positive feedback that I have received from the readers. Whenever someone takes the time to send me a note letting me know that that my work touched them, that means a lot to me. The support from readers has been phenomenal. So far, Divorcing the Devil, has appeared on the Black Expressions Bestsellers Lists for Christian fiction and Fiction. In addition to that, Divorcing the Devil has been nominated for the 2008 African American Literary Awards Show. I have really enjoyed the journey.

What advice do you have for an aspiring writer? Don't give up and keep on writing. Read a lot of craft books and read for pleasure. Just read, read, read. Did I mention that every writer should read?

I asked Dwan to get personal with us and she agreed to answer a few questions so my readers could get to know her better. Here are her answers:

Favorite Color: Fuschia
Favorite Time of Year: Fall (Christmas)
Favorite Dessert: Key lime pie and vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles.
Beach or Mountains: Beach for sure!
If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Fiji… just seems exciting.
If you could spend one hour with someone, living or deceased who would it be and why? That's a good question. I had never really thought about that before. Hmmm…I'd have to say my paternal grandmother. She transitioned long before I was even born. I'd love to see her face and give her a great big hug!
What would readers be surprised to learn about you? Oh my! They would probably be surprised to learn that I'm really sensitive.

What's next for Dwan Abrams? My fourth novel, Married Strangers, will be released in December 2008. I'm currently working on the manuscript for my March 2010 release.

Where can readers find out more about Dwan Abrams?
Readers can visit me on the Web at http://www.dwanabrams.com/ and www.myspace.com/dwanabrams to find out about my upcoming releases and tour schedule. They can also visit http://www.nevaehpublishing.com/ and www.myspace.com/nevaehpublishing for submission guidelines and information about our authors and upcoming releases.

Thanks so much for stopping by Dwan. It was great getting to know you better. Love the cover for Married Strangers.

Thanks, Rhonda, for introducing me to your readers. It's been a pleasure.

2008 Literary Awards Show

2008-07-30T19:47:00.001-05:00

I just found out that Darn Oldham and I are both finalists for the 2008 Literary Awards Show. Darn is an author assigned to my publishing house, Nevaeh Publishing. I'm nominated for Divorcing the Devil, which is currently on the Black Expressions Top 10 Bestsellers List, under the Christian Fiction category, and Darn is nominated for Scent of an Angel under the Breakout Author of the Year. Please cast your votes for us. I would greatly appreciate it. Feel free to pass this information along. The more votes the better. I'm so happy that we were both nominated. The voting link is below. Thanks in advance for your support.

http://www.createsurvey.com/c/70819-bwXj6C/

Divas of Literature Book Tour

2008-07-02T16:30:00.001-05:00

Calling all book lovers!

Come on out for the 2008 Divas of Literature Book Tour, featuring five of the hottest authors in the black book market.

Meet Jackie Christi and Hubby, NBA star, Doug Christi, with their book, No Ordinary Love; film maker and TV host, Abiola Abrams, with her urban take, Dare; Black Expressions Best-selling author, Dwan Abrams, with her latest novel, Divorcing the Devil; Assuanta Collins, author of Until the Next time 2, and best-selling author, Renee Daniel Flagler, with her latest novel, In Her Mind.

The Divas will make stops in the following 5 cities:

July 26 -- Gallery at Market East, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 12:00-4:00 p.m.
August 9 -- Four Seasons Mall, Greensboro, North Carolina, 12:00-4:00 p.m.
August 16 -- Perimeter Mall, Atlanta, Georgia 12:00-4:00 p.m.
August 23 -- Truth Bookstore, Northland Mall, Southfield, Michigan, 3:00-7:00 p.m.
September 6 -- Borders Express, 2034 Green Acres Mall, Valley Stream, New York, 12:00-4:00 p.m.
Join them for a day of book-loving fun with readings, signings and cool giveaways.

For additional information, please visit www.divasofliterature.com.

See you there!

Visions in Print Writer's Conference

2008-05-11T22:41:00.002-05:00

Visions in Print Writer's Conference

"Coming to a computer near you!"

www.myspace.com/visionsinprint

Online Workshops & Sessions to Help You Take Your Skills to the Next Level

May 31, 2008 - $10 Registration Fee Includes All Sessions!

Visions in Print Writer's Group invites you to attend an online writer's conference. We're offering ten workshops and chat sessions that will help you improve your writing and/or market your current work.

Craft of Writing

Writing 101 – Dee Stewart

Creating Believable Characters – Rhonda McKnight

Plot & Structure – Kendra Norman Bellamy

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers – Stacy Hawkins Adams

Critique Partners: Benefits, Techniques & Pitfalls – Tia McCollors

Finding Your Voice - Claudia Mair Burney

Total Craft Development: From Rejection to Redirection – Sherri Lewis

Business of Writing

I've Signed A Contract, Now What? – Ashea Goldson

Networking Your Way to a Bestseller List – Dwan Abrams

Virtual Marketing and Promotion – Dana Pittman/www.niapromotions.com

How an Online Conference Works: An online-conference is a conference hosted on the Internet. Participants can attend without leaving the comfort of their home.

Who it is for: This conference is for anyone who is writing fiction or thinking about writing. It's also for those published authors who would like to learn more about the craft of writing to improve your skills or take advantage of our industry professionals who will discuss tips on getting a book review, marketing, networking and the advantages of a virtual tour.

How You Will Participate: You register for the conference by visiting www.myspace.com/visionsinprint and paying the $10 registration fee. A few days before the conference will receive instructions on how to enter the main site for the conference. On the day of the conference, the workshops are presented in the forms of articles that are posted on the conference site by the presenter. Participants will review the material and post follow-up questions or comments in a threaded discussion format. At some point in the afternoon or perhaps several times during the day, the presenter will come into the forum and answer all the questions. Additionally, each presenter will hold a live chat for 45 minutes to an hour where they will talk with participants. This is another opportunity to have your questions answered or just have an opportunity to speak with one of your favorite authors.

Door prize: All registered participants who are interested will be entered in a raffle to win a 10-page critique from one of our bestselling authors!

Don't miss out on the learning or the fun!

Contact us at visionsinprintacfw@yahoo.com. Visions in Print is the Southeast Atlanta Chapter of the American Christian Fiction Writers.

Black Expressions

2008-04-18T15:22:00.000-05:00

Mind over matter. I woke up today claiming that today was going to be a good day. I got up early to attend a family member's wedding. It was a lovely, intimate ceremony. I felt great about the union and had a wonderful time all around.

When I got home, I checked my emails. There was an email from my editor. She informed me that my upcoming novel, Divorcing the Devil, had been picked up by Black Expressions Book Club. Through Black Expressions, it will be available in hardback. I was elated! Thank God for the blessing!

Book Tour

2008-04-15T21:08:00.002-05:00

I'm so excited about my upcoming book tour. My tour dates are below. I hope to see you!

April 20 -- Entrepreneurs with Vision, Purpose and Power Networking Meeting, 4336 Covington Hwy, Suite 206, Decatur, GA 30085 3:00 p.m.
April 28 -- Black Authors Network Internet Radio Interview http://www.blogtalkradio.com/Black-Author-Network 8:00-10:00 p.m.
April 29 -- Official Release Date for Divorcing the Devil
April 30 -- In My Pajamas Radio Show Interview http://www.blogtalkradio.com/In-My-Pajamas-Show/ 9:30-10:30 p.m.
May 3 -- Kana's Books & CD's Book Signing for Divorcing the Devil, 2541 Franksway Avenue , Columbus, OH 2:00-4:00 p.m.
May 3 -- Radio Interview on Praise 89.5, OH 7:00 p.m.
May 4 -- Sunday Brunch and Books, Mr. Hyman's Fine Dining, 107 E. First Street
Dayton, OH 45402, 1:00-4:00 p.m.
May 10 -- Book Release Party for Divorcing the Devil, Gallery Bistro, 4225 Snapfinger Woods Dr., Decatur, GA 30035, 4:00-7:00 p.m.
May 13 -- Ferguson Literary Hour Radio Interview http://www.artistfirst.com/ 7:15-7:45 p.m.
May 16-18 -- Third Annual Virtuous Woman Book Retreat, Wild Dunes Island Resort in Charleston, SC
May 28 -- Mind, Body and Soul Retreat TBD
May 31 -- Presenter for Online Writers Conference, Topic: Networking, Marketing and Publicity 9:30-10:15 a.m.
June 5-7 -- First Lady Conference, Fairmont Hotel, Dallas, TX
July 12 -- In My Pajamas Internet Radio Interview, http://www.blogtalkradio.com/In-My-Pajamas-Show/, 8:30 p.m.
July 26 -- Divas of Literature Tour, Gallery at Market East, Philadelphia, PA 12:00-4:00 p.m.
August 7-8 --Dancing Preachers 2008 International Conference, Hilton Atlanta
255 Courtland Street NE, Atlanta, GA 30303
August 9 -- Divas of Literature Tour, Four Seasons Mall, Greensboro, NC 12:00-4:00 p.m.
August 14-17 -- Faith and Fiction Retreat, The Palms, Destin, FL
August 23 -- Truth Bookstore, Northland Mall, Southfield, MI, 3:00-7:00 p.m.
September 6 -- Borders Express, 2034 Green Acres Mall, Valley Stream, NY 12:00-4:00 p.m.
October 11--Deerwood Country Club, 845 Woodlane Road, Westampton, NJ
October 25--Christian Authors Expo and Literacy Event, Newton Square, Raleigh, NC

Divorcing the Devil Book Video

2008-04-14T11:02:00.002-05:00

Divorcing the Devil Book Release Party

2008-04-04T21:02:00.002-05:00

We're counting down the days before the official release of Divorcing the Devil on April 29, 2008. Divorcing the Devil made the Top 25 Black Christian Book Distributors Independent Publishers Bestsellers List! In celebration of this momentus occasion, we're having a book release party unlike any other. On Saturday, May 10, 2008 from 4:00-7:00 p.m., we're having a book signing, fashion show, entertainment and dinner at the Gallery Bistro, metro Atlanta's premier banquet and event facility. The dress code: wear all black!

For additional information and to secure your ticket, please visit www.dwanabrams.com.

I made a bestsellers list!

2008-03-26T10:58:00.002-05:00

I'm so excited. A friend of mine called me from Ohio to tell me that my books, Only True Love Waits and Divorcing the Devil, are on the Top 25 Black Christian Small-Independent Publishers Bestsellers List (Fiction). I was even more delighted when I saw the author, Darn Oldham, who is signed to my publishing company, Nevaeh Publishing, on the list, too! Yippee! Here's the link, http://www.blackchristiannews.com/bcbdbestseller.html, but I also pasted the list below.

The Top 25 Black Christian Small-Independent Publishers Bestsellers List (Fiction)
(Based upon Amazon.com rankings, BarnesandNoble.com rankings, and BlackCBD.com rankings.)
For the Week of March 16, 2008 through March 22, 2008.

1. From the Extreme, by Renea Collins
2. Troubles Won't Last Always, by Michelle Taylor
3. Me, Myself and Him, by E.N. Joy
4. Dance to Destiny, by Sherri Lewis
5. Something on the Inside, by T.N. Williams
6. Battle Of Jericho, by Kendra Norman-Bellamy
7. Me Time, by P. M. Morris
8. Happily Ever Now, by Nicole Rouse
9. Keeping Misery Company, by Michelle Larks
10. In Greene Pastures by Kendra Norman-Bellamy
11. Soon and Very Soon, by Sherryle Kiser Jackson
12. Guilty of Love, by Pat Simmons
13. Secret Sisterhood, by Monique Miller
14. Louisa, by Richard Emmel
15. The Midnight Clear, An Anthology, by Kendra Norman-Bellamy
16. Love Me to the Altar, by Tamika Johnson-Hall
17. He's Fine...But Is He Saved?, by Kimberley Brooks
18. Expectations by Toni V. Lee
19. The Twelfth Window, by Jennifer M. Norwood
20. The First Lady-Confessions of a Preacher's Wife, by Mikasenoja
21. The Rose of Jericho, by Vanessa Davis Griggs
22. Only True Love Waits, by Dwan Abrams
23. Scent of an Angel, by Darn Oldham
24. The Divine Order, by Tina R. Newsome
25. Divorcing the Devil, by Dwan Abrams

Writers Wanted

2008-03-25T13:18:00.002-05:00

Nevaeh Publishing is expanding its line. We are currently accepting manuscripts for the following fiction genres: African-American, contemporary, mystery/suspense, inspirational, romance, women’s, multi-cultural and young adult.

We are not interested in receiving manuscripts for: science fiction (Sci-Fi), fantasy, erotic romance, erotica, poetry, illustrated children’s books or non-fiction.

Fiction manuscript word length: range of approximately 65,000 - 100,000
Manuscript pages: Range of approximately 260-350

If your manuscript is polished and meets the aforementioned criteria, please see below.

1) Please submit a one-page synopsis and the first three chapters of the manuscript only. Submissions should be typed, not handwritten, and double-spaced using a size 12 font (Times New Roman, Arial or Courier). Each page should be numbered and contain the author’s name and title in the header.

2) The cover page should contain the author’s name, address, phone number, email address and the title of the submission.

3) Please include a self-addressed postage paid envelope so that your manuscript may be returned to you if necessary. Otherwise, submissions Nevaeh Publishing does not wish to consider for publication will be destroyed.

4) Please allow three to six months from the date of submission to be informed whether or not we wish to review and consider the full manuscript. If interested, the complete manuscript will be requested. The full manuscript should not be submitted unless requested.

Mail submissions to:

Nevaeh Publishing, LLC
P.O. Box 962
Redan, GA 30074-0962

Note: Do not email submissions without prior approval. For additional information, please visit www.nevaehpublishing.com.

Blog Tour with Victorya Michaels Rogers

2008-02-08T23:24:00.000-05:00

Finding true love, as I delved into ONLY TRUE LOVE WAITS, is far from an easy road. Men, in fact people, are not always what they appear to be. What is a single woman to do? Having been there, done that, dating coach and author of THE AUTOMATIC 2nd DATE, Victorya Michaels Rogers has the answers and has set out to take the anxiety and fear out of dating for single ladies on their journey to their true love that waits. Here are her answers to some dating questions I posed to her:

DWAN: Victorya, how can one back on the dating scene after a long absence adopt a hopeful attitude?

VICTORYA: Before you jump back into the world of dating allow yourself time to heal and reflect on where you’ve been. What was missing in your past love life? This is your season to really make it all about you. Love yourself first and deliberately pursue the life you always wanted! If you’re a single mom, obviously you need to seriously consider the needs of your children. But you also have to take care of you and come up with what you really want in a relationship before you start dating again. If you don’t know what you want then you’ll just date whoever takes notice and most likely that is was your problem in the past. You are valuable deserve to have a great relationship. But you have to believe that and know to recognize him when is comes along!

DWAN: You say every woman has an internal “Male GPS.” What is it and how do we use it?

VICTORYA: Available men are everywhere -- at the drive-thru, at work, at school, at church, at restaurants, at the mall, the gas station, sporting events, etc. You just have to know what you’re looking for and believe he exists. The Male GPS –male global positioning satellite—is in your mind. Your mind is an extremely power instrument that is always working and wants to be right! We are just bombarded with so much constant information we have to focus to notice anything. When you think about something enough, amazingly it seems to begin appearing everywhere you go. Let’s talk cars as an example. If you want that new blue Honda SUV, of course you believe it exists, and it’s on your mind, so it suddenly stands out every time one drives by. Just like thinking of your next car, think about what kind of guy you want.

The key to finding your next 1st date begins with your mind. You can instantly turn on your internal MALE GPS by figuring out specifically what you’re looking for in a guy, visualizing a man with those traits and believing he exists.

DWAN: In Automatic 2nd Date you list many unique places to meet men. Tell us a few.

VICTORYA: I advise skipping bars and clubs and just plunging yourself into the social world around you—be it at your church, country club, charity, or a special-interest group at your community center. As you interact with more and more people, you will automatically find yourself around — and introduced to — available men.

DWAN: You say the three-second flirt is a great way to get noticed. How does it work?

VICTORYA: FLIRT with him! Find someone who catches your eye? I have a lot of dating tips in The Automatic 2nd Date. One of them is to make sure you catch his eye. Eye contact is huge! Next time you’re in a “target rich environment” of potential dates, slowly scan the room with calm, soft eyes, resting your eyes briefly on any man who captures your attention, and then casually glance for a bare ring finger. If the finger is bare, lock into a gaze for your three-second flirt... Add a slight smile or grin, and then casually look away. You can repeat it several times to get your point across if you’d like. Just be aware that any longer than a 5 second glance at a time borders on creepy. And you don’t want that.

DWAN: What’s wrong with accepting last minute dates?

VICTORYA: The first 2 dates are when you establish how you expect to be treated without telling him how you want to be treated! If he calls you at the last minute, say something like “I’d love to, but I’ve just got something else going. How about a rain check?” I don’t care if you’re home doing your laundry. He doesn’t need to know. You’re just not available at the last minute. By this, you’re establishing that you’re worth calling early and you’re worth paying money for a date (even if they’re only buying you coffee). They’re making an effort to spend money on you, because they want to spend quality time with you.”

DWAN: What are some definite “Do’s” to keep in mind on first dates?

VICTORYA: Here are my five top “Do’s”: 1) Look your best, 2) Put your best self forward, 3) laugh with him, 4) flatter him, look at him, and especially 6) listen to him. I always recommend asking your date a lot of questions about him then truly listening to his answers. He is his own favorite subject, so he’ll be sure to have a great time and besides you WANT the information he reveals so you can figure out if you two are a match long before you are emotionally involved.

DWAN: Are there any definite “First Date Don’ts” to ensure a 2nd date?

VICTORYA: Oh my, there are definitely some First Date Don’ts! 1st dates are about holding back. Use RESTAINT and self- control across the board if you want your first date to become a 2nd date. That goes for whatever you say and whatever you do. Here are my top 7 Don’ts for First Dates.
--Don’t dress sleazy
--Don’t talk too much
--Don’t go off on past relationships
--Don’t reveal hatred for the male species
--Don’t expose enormous debt
--Don’t tell him he’s THE ONE
And definitely
--Don’t put out on that first date!

DWAN: How does buying your man gifts hurt your relationship without you knowing it?

VICTORYA: Buying your man expensive gifts puts pressure on him, especially on Valentine’s Day. You want your man to feel like the pursuer, not the chased! Make any gift you give him more about the thought than the price tag and never out give your man. If he can’t afford to reciprocate he’ll feel he’s not good enough for you and leave. If he can reciprocate but doesn’t want to, he’ll feel pressured and leave. It’s a no win situation. So before marriage, think thoughtful and little in regards to gift giving and offer lots of gushy thanks when he gives YOU gifts.

DWAN: Do you have a website or blog with any of these tips for our audience to check out?

VICTORYA: Yes, my website has a lot of additional tips and advice for single moms! Check it out-- it’s www.mantokeep.com. You can also order my books learn about my coaching program. I hope I have encouraged you and helped you see that dating does NOT have to be overwhelming, scary and stressful. In fact, believe it or not, you can actually enjoy the process if you take the time to find out what you REALLY want in a man, sharpen your dating skills and protect your little ones hearts by NOT introducing them to dates until you KNOW this is a serious, potentially permanent relationship. There is so much information I’d love to impart to you to make dating less anxiety filled, so feel free to visit my site anytime and/or check out my books Finding a Man Worth Keeping and The Automatic 2nd Date. ________________________________________________

Victorya Michaels Rogers, Dating Coach, Author The Automatic 2nd Date

For a chance to win a copy of Victorya’s latest book, The Automatic 2nd Date, post your best or worst first date story. Good luck!

Best-Selling Author or Not

2008-01-02T20:06:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling a little bit out of sorts right about now. I'm sure I'm going to step on some toes and hurt some feelings, but oh well, the truth needs to be told. Quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of authors claiming to be "Best-selling Authors" when they haven't appeared on a single national bestsellers list. It's misleading to readers and insulting to authors who truly deserve to be called best-selling authors.

When authors appear on New York Times, USA Today, Essence, Publisher's Weekly or other national bestseller lists, those are distinctions that authors can boast about. And they should. Those authors are quick to state which list or lists they have appeared on because they can prove it. Great!

What's getting on my nerves is when self-published authors claim to be best-selling authors without stating the source to back up their claim. If they appeared on a bestseller's list at a local bookstore, Amazon.com, cushcity.com or someone's made up list, state that. Otherwise, it's misleading to just make a blanket statement about being a best-selling author.

What do you think?

Scent of an Angel Excerpt

2007-10-26T21:01:00.000-05:00

One

She had three choices and a split-second to decide. Catch it, duck, or let it hit her in the face. Her sister, Ebony, must have calculated the distance before turning her back to the crowd gathered below and tossing it over her shoulder. Ebony's aim was surprisingly true. It was coming right at her head.

"Dang it!" she grunted under her breath from her attempted hiding place deep in back of the throng of eager women.

She raised her hand to protect her eyes. At the last instance, however, the woman standing to her right snatched the bridal bouquet out of the air.

"Copper Veronica Patterson," the woman chided, "you were just going to let it hit you. Weren't you? And you know Ebony was throwing it right at you."

"But I knew you were nearby, Pepper," Copper joked, "didn't want to deprive you."

"Yeah, right," Pepper said. "But thanks anyway." She jumped up and down a few times, whooping.

Copper looked up towards the balcony at her sister, who shrugged her shoulders and smiled, as Pepper's squeals of joy vibrated through the air.

Seeing Ebony wearing the wispy white wedding dress evoked memories that were still somewhat painful. It had been their mother's gown. A beautiful combination of satin and lace intricately embroidered with flowers and butterflies, which was originally made for and worn by Opal—their mother—some twenty-nine years ago. Finally, all three of her daughters: Copper, Mahogany and, now, Ebony, had worn it.

The three ceremonies had taken place in this very same spacious backyard of the house where they grew up, Opal's two-story, four-bedroom home in Stone Mountain, a suburb of Atlanta. The peach trees, flower garden and gazebo made a good backdrop for the occasion.

Two years ago, in 1992, when Copper had flown in for Mahogany's wedding, the sights and sounds of the affair had been even more disturbing. It was déjà vu. She had even expected to see Bobby, her ex-husband, slyly flirting with some of the attractive female guests.

At one point, she had to sneak away to her old bedroom to relieve herself of the anxiety she felt by sitting on the bed and hugging the Prince Charming doll she used to sleep and daydream with as a child.

Indeed, it was still her room, her sanctuary. All of her mementos and teenage belongings were there, just as she had left them. Copper felt so safe in that room. She had stayed up there weeping, thinking about her failed marriage, until she heard her mother's voice calling for her, which made her hurriedly fix her face, as she responded to Opal. She wiped away any remnants of tears, and rejoined the festivities with a fake smile as her countenance.

This time, at Ebony's nuptials, the pain wasn't quite as bad. She was stronger now. Sure, the memories came fleetingly, especially when she looked at her sister in that dress. She looked almost exactly as Copper had.

All three sisters stood around five foot eight inches. They had the same mane of dark sandy-brown hair with the widow's peak, deep dimples, full wide lips and light bronze complexion. Also, they had what others called, the "Patterson look." Big almond-shaped hazel-colored eyes, long curled lashes and the dark eyebrows with the fine hairs connecting them, which gave the girls and their mother—whose own mother was from Brazil—an exotic, determined look. When you threw in the tall, supple, hourglass figures, with the butts that made men turn and give them the once-over—twice, one could understand why there were a number of disappointed males at each sister's wedding.

There were almost two hundred guests milling around the sunny backyard at this one. The groom and his groomsmen were standing around the Jacuzzi in their powder-blue tuxedos, posing for the photographer, as the lilting tunes of the Jamaican steel band, set up over by the gazebo, filtered through the warm evening air.

Some of the guests were dancing, while others mingled and snacked on the seafood and fruit spread next to the champagne fountain on the long table against the fence. Everyone was conversing and enjoying the lovely June day. The thunderstorms the day before caused a little mugginess, but it was bearable with the warm breeze that glided over the backyard from time to time like a silk shawl brushing lightly against each person trying to find a place to settle down.

"Sorry, sis," Ebony said, walking up and embracing Copper.

"For what, Ebb?" Copper asked as they made their way over to the champagne and sparkling apple cider, amidst the well wishes that were showered upon the bride.

"The bouquet," she explained. "I was trying to get it to you. I didn't see your roomie standing there. Everyone knows that Pepper thinks she's getting older."

"We all are." Copper chuckled.

"You know what I mean. She thinks that if you're not married by the time you're thirty, you are over the hill, automatically washed up. And she's twenty-seven."

"I keep telling her she has a lot to learn," the twenty-eight year old responded as she picked up two full glasses, handing one to her sister, who was two years her junior and one year younger than Mahogany.

"Did you think about our father at your wedding, too?" the bride inquired, softly.

"Yes, I did, Ebb," admitted Copper. "I wondered if he knew… if he cared. I mean, Aunt Birdie was here, but, just like at my wedding and Mahogany's, too, she didn't even mention his name. There's something about the way she looks at us though. I can't put my finger on it."

Copper wondered whether Aunt Birdie, her dad's sister, had any information that would help them better understand why he left.

"I still find myself wishing that he was here," Ebony shared, wiping away a tear.

"I know." Copper put an arm around her younger sister's shoulder. "Anyway," she held her glass in the air and continued, "to the beginning of a new, wonderful life."

They clinked glasses and sipped the sparkling apple cider.

"Is it, sis?" Ebony asked, with a look so serious that Copper felt something pull at her heart even more. "Will it be wonderful?"

Before answering, Copper looked over at the groom, who was smiling and shaking hands with everyone in range, and she remembered how eight years ago Bobby, her groom, had hardly smiled at all.

"Yes, Ebb, I think Edward will make a very good husband. I believe you will be very happy together."

"Coming from you, Copp, that means a lot," Ebony acknowledged. "I know how psychic you can be sometimes. Boy, do I know. You told me that I would marry him someday when I first introduced you to Edward three years ago when you came back for my college graduation."

"Did I?"

"You did."

"Hmmm."

"How do you do it, sis?"

"Ebony, I really don't know. Sometimes I get these intuitive feelings. I used to ignore them when I was younger, and they stopped happening for a while. Then they started again, and I noticed that the more I heeded them, the more I would get them." She looked over Ebb's shoulder and saw their mother, Mahogany, and the photographer heading towards them. "Like, right now, I get the feeling that our picture is about to be taken."

Ebony turned and saw them, too.

"Oh, I'm beginning to get the hang of it now," she said as they both laughed.

"And what's so funny?" Mahogany inquired with a smile.

"The future," said Ebb, putting an arm around each sister.

"Let's hope you will be able to say that in the future," their mother said pointedly.

"Opal!" Copper reprimanded jokingly.

Anyone not knowing any better would think that the four of them were sisters. Opal was in her late forties, but still maintained the good looks and figure passed on to her daughters.

The photographer was very professional as he positioned them and took the pictures with the minimum of conversation. His eyes locked with Copper's at one point and suddenly she got the feeling that she knew him. Upon closer scrutiny she realized what it was. He slightly resembled her ex-husband. An inch shorter, perhaps, and more mature looking, but the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled was like her ex, and the square-jawed strong masculine look was how she envisioned Bobby would look in his thirties.

"Mommy, can we get in the pictures?" Copper turned to see her seven and a half-year old daughter, Tiffany, looking up at her. She was holding Mahogany's two-year old, Tanzia, by the hand.

"And who might you be?" the friendly photographer asked.

"My name is Tiffany," she replied proudly, "and who might you be?"

"My name is Doug," he answered, laughing at how grown up she appeared. "Which one of these ladies is your mother?"

"She is," the little girl pointed at Copper and went to stand beside her.

"And I know who your mommy is," Doug said to Tanzia.

"You sure do." Mahogany smiled, picking her up.

The photographer posed them all for several shots as Aunt Birdie stood behind him snapping her little camera.

"Wow," he admired. "Three generations of beautiful black women. And Mrs. Patterson, you are the prettiest grandmother I have ever had the privilege of photographing."

Opal beamed as Copper, Mahogany and Ebony looked at each other and smiled, shaking their heads.

The next morning Copper arose early. When they were growing up, Opal had taken them all to church every Sunday morning diligently. However, upon reaching adulthood, her sisters discontinued weekly services, although they still went occasionally. Copper, on the other hand, had carried on, even while in college. She belonged to Seekers—a non-denominational church of religious science in Washington, D.C. Whenever Copper was in Atlanta on a Sunday she attended services at Hillside, which had the same type doctrine.

When she mentioned to Tiffany that she would be going to church in the morning her daughter asked to go along. Tiffany was very bright in school. Copper wanted to expose her to different ideas to help her grow mentally.

They sat through the sermon on "Visualization" and immediately went to brunch downtown at the Hyatt on Peachtree Street. Then they decided to go to the zoo and finally back to Opal's house.

It was a lovely summer afternoon for some mother and daughter bonding. They didn't have the opportunity often. In fact, the last time just the two of them had gone out to eat together was over a year ago, the night that Copper got upset with Tiff for playing a trick on her. They were at a restaurant celebrating Tiffany's birthday, and Tiffany decided to play hide and seek without Copper's consent. That caused a momentary scare until the little girl reappeared.

This evening Copper would fly back to D.C. and Tiffany would, as usual, remain with Opal. As they were driving back to Stone Mountain, Copper asked the question that had been bothering her for a while. She was bothered because she felt guilty having to leave Tiffany. Due to her busy work schedule, Copper didn't have a whole lot of free time to spend with Tiff. For the best interest of her daughter, Copper made the difficult decision to allow Tiff to stay with Opal.

"Tiffany, do you mind living with Grandma?"

"No ma'am, I like it. All of my friends and relatives are here," she replied earnestly. "But you know, when the preacher this morning was saying how by visualizing what you want and believing that it will happen, you can make it so?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, Mommy," she said, turning to face her in the seat. "I can see myself living with you in Washington like you told me I'd do when I start high school. And I visualize us having a father living with us, too."

"Father? You mean your daddy?"

"Well, I know we haven't seen Daddy in years," the little girl went on. "And I know you always tell me that Daddy still loves me and that you like Daddy, but I don't think Daddy is the one I see. He's not coming back, and we don't want him back. Do we, Mommy?"

"No, baby, we don't," Copper agreed as her eyes watered with delight at the understanding of her little lady.

"So, Mommy, I'm going to visualize a new daddy. I'm going to keep visualizing until it happens, and we're going to be happily ever after. Okay, Mommy?"

"Okay, little girl," Copper acknowledged warmly, squeezing her small hand.

Copper welcomed the help. Ever since her divorce four years ago, she had been waiting for the right guy to come along. Somewhere out there she knew there had to be a man who would fall in love with her and that she could fall in love with… true love. The fairy-tale kind of love in which two people only have eyes for each other.

That happens in real life, she mused. There are couples like that, right? Everyone's not getting divorced. People do stay married, not just for convenience, but because they really love each other. There are black couples like that, aren't there? All black men don't up and leave, do they? They're not all like Bobby or her father, are they? No answers came with the questions. They just circled in her mind.

Ebony and Edward seemed to be deeply in love, she reflected, as do Mahogany and Joshua. But how long would that last? Her own marriage had lasted four years officially. She prayed that her sisters' would last much longer. And since their spouses were black men, too, she felt prayers were definitely going to be needed.

Even with the negativity she felt, however, she never said anything derogatory about her ex-husband to Tiffany. As a matter of fact, she made it a point to always speak of Bobby in an affectionate and positive manner. After all, he was her baby's daddy, even though he hadn't been enthused about that fact at the outset. His blood flowed through Tiffany's veins; she had his eyes and nose. Tiffany was proud to have a professional NFL football player as a father.

Copper tried to make sure that her little girl didn't suspect the bitterness she felt towards Bobby, her own father, and black men, period, for that matter.

"Doug called here twice for you," Mahogany informed her as Copper walked into the den, where her sister was watching the NBA playoffs. "I told him that you took Tiffany to church this morning. How long have you been back?"

"I just got here. I didn't want to block you in, so I parked on the street. And who is Doug?"

"You know, the photographer from the wedding yesterday," Mahogany reminded her. "Where's Tiff?"

"She's walking up the street with Moms and Tanz. Why is this Doug guy calling for me?" Copper inquired, slightly annoyed. Overly aggressive men were a definite no-no to her. "And how did he get this number?"

"He's had this number for several years now. He's an old friend of Joshua's," Mahogany replied, referring to her husband. "As a matter of fact, he photographed my wedding. You don't remember him?"

"Hoggy, that was two years ago. I had other things on my mind. Why is he calling me?" She tilted her head slightly to the side.

"There you go leaning your head," Hoggy noted, knowing that meant Copper was beginning to get angry. "Why do you think he called, Copp? I guess he's interested in talking to you. I mean, it's not as if he's desperate with those light-brown caramel eyes and a smile to die for. When they say tall, dark and handsome, they're talking about Doug Kenner."

"T, D and H is all right, but. . ." Copper started.

"T, D and H?" Mahogany interrupted.

"Tall, dark and handsome."

"Oh, I forgot. You live in alphabet city now: D.C., CIA, FBI, HEW, GNP, HUD, BLT…"

"Okay, okay." Copper laughed. "You got me that time. BLT, that's funny. But anyway, having good looks is fine, but a man has to have more than that."

"Hey, he's got more than that. He has a great personality. Besides being a good photographer, he's very witty. He's good to people, and as the word goes, he really knows how to turn a woman on, if you know what I mean."

"No, I don't know what you mean."

"I mean he goes past foreplay to five-play."

"What? Who could have possibly told you something like that?" Copper wanted to know.

"I heard it through the grapevine."

"Well, you'd better believe that I'm not going to go out with someone who is being talked about like that."

"Don't pre-judge. Give him a chance. He should be calling back soon. I told him to try back in an hour. He said he just wanted to speak to you before you left tonight for D.C. By the way, are Ebony and Edward going to stop off there on their way back from the Bahamas?"

"Yes, that's what they said last night. I want to think of something special to do for them."

"You'll come up with something."

"I know, but you know how I like to plan things out. At any rate, I'm going upstairs to pack while Tiffany is outside."

"Are you going to talk to Doug when he calls?"

"I have to think about that," she called out, halfway up the stairs.

Actually, she was going to give it more thought than Mahogany would ever imagine. Copper had been celibate since her last sexual encounter with her husband, which was more than a year before her divorce was finalized, an abstention of over five years. Her ex-husband, combined with her spiritual beliefs, was actually the reason she began practicing celibacy. When rumors about his unfaithfulness started reaching her ears, she had stopped having sex with him. She wasn't sure how long her abstention would last, but prayer and faith got her through. Initially, not having sex was difficult, so she prayed that God would remove the desire until she was married, again.

In fact, Bobby was her one and only sexual partner. During the first couple of years after her break-up with Bobby, she went out on various dates. She had even dated one guy, Thomas, for ten months. He was considered one of the most eligible black bachelors in D.C., but there was a barrier and it was high. Although Thomas seemed to be a good catch, he didn't respect her decision to abstain. Instead, he took it as a personal challenge to get her to give in. Rather than compromise her beliefs, she broke up with him.

That was when she concluded there was another side to her personal problem. Not only did she need to de-bond herself from the memories of Bobby, but she had other memories that caused her pain also. Memories of a father who deserted her, memories of incidents that were recounted when her girlfriends sat around bashing black men, memories of things her husband put her through with the gossip of his disloyalty. Plus, she was affected by the prevalent negative images of black men that was being perpetuated in the media.

She had always felt that Copper Patterson deserved more, deserved better. She wanted the best that life had to offer, for herself and for her daughter. No more heartaches or headaches. She had been toying with this course of action before, so she made a decision… to de-bond herself from black men. She would suppress any inclination to get involved with them anymore on a serious basis. Maybe that was why she had been having such a hard time finding someone. Maybe her subconscious mind was trying to steer her away from the brothers. Her job had indoctrinated her to the professional white world of Washington, D.C.

Okay, she vowed, she was going to heed her subconscious mind. She decided that her next meaningful relationship was going to be with a Caucasian, when the right one came along. Black men, with their hang-ups, would be put on the back burner.

A few weeks after breaking it off with Thomas, she was in Atlanta for Mahogany's wedding. There was a full moon the night of the ceremony, and the reception was in full blast.

Earlier that day she had met friends and co-workers of Joshua, the groom. Jonathan "Buck" Buckner was one of them. A good-looking, but slightly nerdy, white guy, who happened to be at the foot of the stairs and saw her wiping tears from her eyes after being up in her room wondering if her Prince Charming would ever come.

Buck appeared to be so concerned, kind, and understanding as they went out to the backyard and sat in the gazebo and talked. She felt so vulnerable and weak. Looking back, she imagined that must be how it felt to talk to a therapist. Copper talked about herself, and then he shared a little about his life, and she grew comfortable with him. It seemed only natural to exchange phone numbers and make plans to have dinner together the next day.

After dinner they went to his condo, which was usually a no-no since she had just met the guy. But she took a chance. The music was right, and she felt very relaxed. She distinctly remembered that there was a full moon, because she had always heard that strange things happened during full moons. This particular evening she acted in a way that was uncharacteristic of her usual self.

Before she knew it, Buck was kissing her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the passionate kiss. Buck's hands began to caress intimate parts of her body. She felt herself becoming turned on. Even though she initially felt pleasure, guilt suddenly overtook her. She regained her senses and gently pushed him back.

"I'm not ready for anything like that. Okay?" she announced with a friendly, but firm look.

Licking his lips, he said, "Your kisses sure taste sweet." He wiped the corners of his mouth. "Okay," he gave in reluctantly, "we'll have plenty of time."

Copper didn't know what he based his comment on. Even though it had been years since having sex with her husband, she refused to give in to temptation. When she had sex again, she would be married. The evening had ended with Buck dropping her back off at Opal's house.

"Copper, it's for you!" Mahogany yelled, interrupting Copper's thoughts.

"I'll take it up here," she answered, shaking her head at her sister's teasing tone as she picked up the bedroom phone. She waited until she heard her hang up downstairs before she continued, "Hello?"

"Hello, babe," said the masculine voice on the other end.

Right away it registered whose sound it was. "Hi, Buck," she said with a little vexation. "Now, you know I don't like that term 'babe.'"

"Well now, you know I don't mean anything by it," he began as an abrupt tone was heard in Copper's ear, indicating another call was coming in. "Is that you?" he asked.

"Of course, hold on please," she requested, quickly depressing the switch-hook for a split second to get the other call. "Hello?"

"Hello," a deeper male voice greeted. "Is Copper in?"

"She's speaking."

"Hi, this is Doug," he continued. "Are you on another call?"

How did he know? she wondered. "Yes, I am. Can you hold for a second?"

"Most definitely," he assured, as she clicked back to Buck.

"Buck?" she asked as she did so.

"It's me, babe-uh, I mean, uh, Copper," he acknowledged. "Tell me, what time are you leaving tonight? I want to get together with you."

"Let me get back to you on that," she responded. "I have another call right now."

"Okey-dokey, I'm at home. You have the number. Call me right back."

"Will do, bye." She clicked back to Doug. "Hello?"

"I'm still here," he said. "I could have called you back."

"No, they were ready to get off the phone anyway."

"Tell me," he inquired. "Why do females always say they when they mean he?"

Copper chuckled. "Do we do that?"

"All the time."

"What do men do?"

"When we say they, we mean they. When we mean she, we say she. At least that's what this man does."

"Hmmm, I guess men don't care if their business gets in the streets and women do," Copper reasoned.

"To me, stating the gender of the person I'm talking to on the phone is not putting my business in the streets." He chuckled. "Now, more personal things are something I would be more discreet about. But using they in that instance indicates something, and could be construed as being ashamed or disrespectful to him, her or it, whoever you were referring to."

"My, you're very opinionated," she noted, withdrawing somewhat.

"I'm sorry." Doug relaxed then changed subject. "Mahogany tells me you're leaving late tonight."

"Yes, I have to punch in early tomorrow morning."

She felt the question coming, but she still had no idea what her answer would be. What were Doug's intentions?

"I know you don't know me, but your brother-in-law is one of my very best friends. Both he and your sister can vouch that you'll be safe with me."

"Okay, I believe you," she said with an inner chuckle. "My sister did speak very highly of you."

"Really? What did she say?"

"She said that you were a nice guy," she related.

"See? So with that in mind, I was wondering if I could take you out for a bite to eat this afternoon," he went on.

"What do you like to eat?" she asked.

"Mexican, Italian, Chinese. . . "

"What about soul food?" she wanted to say.

"…soul food," he went on.

"Now you're talking!" She broke in, suppressing the laughter.

"Really? You want soul food?"

"I'll leave it up to you." She smiled and then said seriously, "But why?"

"Why?" He was caught off guard, she noted. "Because, because I saw you, I heard about you for years and I would like to talk to you, get to know you," he recovered.

There was total silence.

"Hello?" he called.

"I'm thinking," Copper announced. And she was. She felt that de-bonding herself from black men was essential if she was going to have a meaningful relationship with someone white. But it didn't mean she couldn't have black male friends. This guy seemed nice, she mused. She didn't know what he wanted, but she knew what he wasn't going to get.

"Hello?" Doug re-called.

"Doug?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"How soon can you be here?" she queried with a smile.

"I ain't there yet?" was his rejoinder as they laughed and hung up.

Scent of an Angel by Darn Oldham
Available October 2007
Visit www.nevaehpublishing.com

The Deceptive Practices of Love (Article)

2007-10-26T20:14:00.000-05:00

How do you overcome the betrayal of infidelity? There is no right or wrong answer, because the decision is solely yours to make. Once coming to terms with the fact that “he cheated on me” or in some cases she, some people choose to leave after a loved one has been unfaithful. Others, in an effort to salvage the relationship, stay. Many factors must be considered before throwing in the towel or hanging on in there.

Deciding what to do when your world seems to be falling apart is difficult to do. In the midst of your broken heart, here are some sensible questions you can ask yourself. Are there children involved? If so, how will the situation affect them one way or another? If you decide to remain in the relationship, will you be able to protect the children from arguments or a loveless relationship? On the contrary, if you end the relationship, are you prepared emotionally, spiritually, and financially?

Remaining in a relationship once the covenant has been desecrated takes courage and commitment. Inexorably you will question your decision. However, there are ways to restore trust. The person who committed the transgression must be willing to deal with the consequences of his or her actions. For example, they may be required to give up some of their freedom and privacy so that you can feel more secure. The injured party may request access to cell phones, pagers, e-mails, and whereabouts. And the offending party must be prepared to accommodate those requests in order to re-establish trust and restore the relationship.

The choice to end a relationship due to infidelity is difficult. As a result of the break-up, depression, anxiety, stress, and financial hardships are very real possible outcomes. However, you can bounce back. Regardless of what you decide to do, the road to recovery will be a rocky one. Don’t be afraid to seek counseling from a trained professional. Counseling is not a sign of weakness or failure, because maintaining your well-being is important. Dealing with your emotions honestly is therapeutic in itself. You must acknowledge your feelings, because they are valid. Then you must make a concerted effort to forgive the past, remain faithful in the present, and have a fruitful future.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

Surviving an Affair (Article)

2007-10-26T20:08:00.000-05:00

Why is it that the people who give the most advice oftentimes need the most help? A friend of mine is married to a psychologist. According to my friend, who we’ll call Lois for the sake of this article, her marriage of eleven years was on the brink of divorce. From the outside looking in, they appeared to have the ideal relationship. He’s successful and intelligent, and she on the other hand is beautiful, ambitious, and very smart. Together, most would consider them to be a power couple. So what was the problem? Let me start by stating that while he attended graduate school, Lois supported them financially. She postponed pursing her own educational goals for the higher good of their family. As part of the “big picture”, Lois thought that this short-term sacrifice would reap a lifetime of benefits. During the early stages of the marriage she noticed, and elected to ignore, signs of a character scarcity.

First of all, he was the result of an extramarital affair, and resented his mother for it. Unbeknownst to Lois, she was the target of all that dysfunction. The actions of his mother instilled in him to distrust women, because he thought of them as sexual objects. He criticized Lois for the way she dressed, which caused her to become self-conscious about the way she looked. Her despondency caused her to have a love affair with food, and she packed on twenty pounds in three years.

Just when she thought that things could not get any worse, she discovered that he had a pornography addiction. To add insult to injury, he blamed her lack of passion towards him for his problem. He said, “I like my woman to sizzle. I want her to be hot for me.” Becoming shut off and secretive, he refused to give Lois the passwords to his e-mail accounts and limited her access to his computer. Infidelity signs hit her like a ton of bricks, but she continued to second-guess herself. It was not until he guarded his cell phone that she admitted that he was probably cheating on her.

Suspecting that her husband was unfaithful, she sought refuge in confidential conversations with her mother-in-law about her feelings. She found comfort in knowing that she was not crazy, and that someone who loved them both validated her concerns. Since this was the second marriage for both of them, they had a vested interest in making the marriage work. Regardless of how painful it was to stay, neither one of them wanted to leave.

Still in love with her husband, Lois was devastated when she found out that her husband had been keeping in contact with an ex-girlfriend. In addition to that, while he took business trips, he frequently had the company of other women. Hurt and angry, Lois retaliated. Even though she knew it was not right, she wanted revenge. She wanted to hurt him as badly as he had hurt her. Before she realized the depths of her own betrayal, she conceived a child with another man. Her conscious would not allow her to deceive her husband any longer, so she confessed to all the sorted details of the extramarital affair.

As one would expect, he hit the roof. In fact, they separated for a while. His pride had convinced him that he could never accept the baby that his wife shared with another man. It was not until a close friend reminded him that the most significant relationship in his life was with his stepmother, the woman his father had betrayed. Working through the pain and mistrust, they faithfully attended marriage counseling, and renewed their vows. They realized that after everything was said and done, they loved each other. Sure, they encountered judgment and criticism from family and close friends, but they realized that they had a love so strong that it could withstand even the toughest, most trying test. Most people could not fathom staying in a marriage with a spouse who conceived a child with someone else.

Lois quickly admits that she works extra hard to reassure her husband that she is committed to their marriage. For example, she answers her cell phone whenever he calls, she calls if she is running late, and gives him relevant information when she goes out. She realizes that it is a lot to go through, but she feels their marriage is worth it. Open communication and accessibility are required to heal their relationship. As for him, he extends the same courtesies. They share an e-mail account, and both have access to each other’s alternate e-mails and voice mails. Lois insisted they share a cellular plan, and have one bill coming to the house. The arrangement seems to work for them. Three years has passed since their marriage was on the rocks. Their daughter is amazing. She’s absolutely beautiful, and she has doting parents. Lois and her husband established visitation rights with the biological father, and they clearly let him know that his presence is solely for the child. When he picks up or drops off the child, Lois and her husband designated a close family friend as the contact person. This helps minimize contact between them and the biological father. Any conversation between he and Lois is usually quite brief, and pertains strictly to their child.

In conclusion, real love never fails, and is unwavering. Despite the criticism and shame, Lois and her husband silenced the critics through their commitment. Having a love so strong has enabled them to have a rich and fulfilling life. Neither one of them brings up the past to cause the other pain. Maturity has taught them how to love, and how to disagree without being disagreeable. Come to find out, Lois’ husband has health problems that left him sterile. Now he considers his little girl to be his angel, because she revived the love he and Lois thought they lost.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

Learning to Love, Again (Article)

2007-10-26T20:07:00.001-05:00

Learning to love, again, when your heart has been broken can be an arduous task. There are times when you may have memories of the one you lost. The unpredictable part about reminiscing is that it can happen at the most inopportune times. A song on the radio, a movie, a fragrance, or a date on the calendar can trigger emotions. Whether there’s a yearning in your soul or an occasional thought regarding the “one that got away,” there is life after loss.

The reasons why relationships don’t last are vast and include death, divorce, separation, or mutual decision. Regardless of the reason, there is usually some level of pain, resentment, or regret associated with ending a significant relationship.

The first step is to realize that relationships require work, and must be a priority to both parties. Second, if you are the one who is at fault for the demise of the relationship, you must forgive yourself. We all make mistakes. The key is learning from those mistakes. That means coming to terms with your past and using it for instruction. Third, work on making yourself whole and complete before considering another serious relationship. You should strive to become independent even if that means going back to school for additional training or getting a better paying job. The best relationships are the ones where you want to be with the person instead of needing to be with them.

Next, accept yourself and be good to yourself. Eat right, exercise, and maintain a beauty regimen. There is nothing wrong with looking good and presenting yourself in the best possible light. Take care of your mental self by tapping into your spiritual side. Join a church, pray, fast, and meditate. In spite of your religious beliefs, there are things you can do to relax your mind and enhance your senses. Take the time to be quiet and be still.

Lastly, be willing to give and receive love. Judge the new person in your life on their own merit. Don’t compare them to the person who got away. Especially don’t allow old baggage to find its way into your new relationship. And never verbalize to the new partner all of the wonderful things your ex did in an effort to tell them what they are not doing. When you are ready for love, be open and receptive to receive it. No matter what you have been through in the past, don’t harden your heart. If you do then you are not living. You’re merely existing.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

Keys to a Successful Marriage (Article)

2007-10-26T20:06:00.000-05:00

Recently, I attended a fiftieth wedding anniversary party for my friend’s parents. Until I met them, I did not believe the traditional nuclear family existed in America. With all of the statistics boasting about the high rate of divorce, increase of couples with children not getting married, but living together, single parent households, and stepparent families, I must admit that my outlook on marriage had diminished.

Curiosity prompted me to ask the couple to shed some insight into the secret of their success. Surprisingly, they replied in sync, “There is no secret.” The husband went on to elaborate that “marriage is what you make it. You only get out of it what you put into it.” His answers seemed so simple, even cliché, but true. The fact of the matter is that society has taught us that we must get married. Being single is frowned upon, and often pitied. As many single women over the age of twenty-five can attest to, the pressure to find a mate is great. You cannot go to a restaurant, alone, without being asked if someone else will be joining you. Even the tables are for two or more. Once, I went solo to a movie. Although I was in a relationship, I did not have a problem going out with me, myself, and I. There was a guy sitting behind me who took it upon himself to sit next to me, and strike up a conversation. Politely, I informed him that I was not interested, and preferred he get back up and leave. Rather than going back to his original seat, he moved over enough to have one seat between us. That was fine with me.

Although I understood the concept of what the married couple said, I still wanted additional information. The question for me was, “Why do some couples work, while others falter?” The wife pulled me to the side, and explained to me the depths of their commitment. First of all, divorce was never an option. For them, the vows they took before God, friends, and family, meant they would remain together until death. Secondly, they practiced forgiveness on a daily basis. She let me know that they had survived infidelity, deaths, boredom, arguments, mistrust, and disrespect just to name a few. It was not an easy journey, but they never gave up.

The biggest difference between their relationship and the slew of divorced couples out there is the commitment to stay together. I do not believe that people go into marriage with the intent of breaking up. Sometimes, we may feel it is easier to run from problems than to face them or to trade in a mate like we do our cars. Rather than fixing the problem, we try to fix the other person. When that does not work, we claim the person just was not right for us, and go on a journey to find the perfect person who only exists in our minds.

If we focused more on the relationship, and less on the wedding, perhaps we would have fewer divorces. I heard someone say that we should have family and friends invited to the divorce hearing the same way they were invited to the wedding, because we have a lavish wedding ceremony and a quiet divorce. Life is not a soap opera. Feelings change, but commitment stays the same. Instead of settling for whom you can live with, commit yourself to the one you cannot live without.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

Interracial Dating (Article)

2007-10-26T20:05:00.000-05:00

When I lived in Spokane, Washington during the early nineties, interracial relationships were not that common. Since I lived on a military base, my interactions were with various races and cultures. It was not until I went off base that I noticed separatism amongst the races. I recall a couple of instances where I went out on dates with white men to downtown restaurants, and I was the only black person in the entire establishment. Oftentimes, my date and I received icy glares or whispers as we walked bye. As a woman, I felt uncomfortable. As a black woman, I felt violated, because this is a free country. Therefore, we are able to date whomever we choose, regardless of race, nationality, color, or creed.

While dating a black man from the Seattle area, I discovered that his ex-wife was white, and he had a bi-racial daughter. Upon meeting his family, I realized that all of his brothers and nephews were in relationships with white women, and had fathered bi-racial children. To my surprise, the culture in that city was black men with white women. Whenever we visited his hometown, I noticed that trend everywhere we went. It seemed as if every child playing on the street was bi-racial.

Currently, I reside in Atlanta where interracial couples are far and few in between. Living in the south has helped me to realize that interracial couples are the exception and not the norm. Even now when a black man walks into a room with a white woman, some people stare and others whisper. It’s hard not to notice the reactions of others, because they do not try to conceal their displeasure. Since I have been in Atlanta, I have only seen three instances where a black woman was married to or dating a white man. I am convinced that people are creatures of habit, and we will adapt to our environment. Depending on where you live, and the acceptable dating pool to choose from, will determine your mating selection. I also believe that your friends influence your decisions, too. My cousin, whose mother is African, was born and raised in Atlanta, is married to a woman from Sweden. Oddly enough, all of his black male friends are either married to or dating a Swedish woman.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

Dating as a Single Parent (Article)

2007-10-26T19:46:00.000-05:00

Dating as a single parent is a really big deal. There are so many factors to consider. Internet dating has become popular, but is it safe? Between work and family responsibilities, finding time to meet eligible people can be a daunting task. In that case, a lot of people have found matchmaking websites quite valuable. It allows them the ability to screen potential suitors without having to leave their home. If you’re considering Internet dating, I recommend the following:

• Don’t give the potential suitor your home address – Meet him at a public place such as a restaurant. Your home is your sanctuary and should be a place of refuge for you and your children.
• Don’t give out your home telephone number, use your cell phone instead – In the event the relationship sours, you don’t have to worry about someone blowing up your home phone, and disrupting the lives of you and your children. Besides, you can always turn the ringer off your cell phone.
• Don’t let him know the location of your job – Never ever bring trouble to your place of business. If the relationship ends, you don’t want him possibly showing up at your job, causing a scene and embarrassing you.
• Don’t give him your office telephone number – Once again, use your cell phone. You don’t want to take a chance of someone harassing you on your job.
• Always tell someone that you trust where you’re going. Whenever you go out on a date, make sure someone knows where you’re going, whom you’re going with, and when to expect you to return.

When Should I Let Him Meet my Children?

Single parents are often faced with the gut wrenching decision of when to allow a suitor to meet their children. As a rule of thumb, your children should not meet anyone that you’re not seriously considering marrying.

First of all, children are impressionable. You don’t want them to become attached to someone that you’re dating only to have them disappointed when things don’t work out. As a parent, your top priority is your children. Everything you do and every decision you make you should have your children’s best interest at heart.

Secondly, what are the signs that the relationship has progressed to a level where you feel comfortable enough to let your children meet the man you’re involved with? Just because he asked you if he could meet your children is not reason enough. You need to do your homework and be as certain as you can be that this is the right thing to do for all parties concerned.

If you’re in a relationship filled with drama, don’t bring that around your children. What do I mean by drama? Did you think your relationship was monogamous, and you found out that he was cheating on you? Drama. Is he married? Drama. Does he have a substance abuse problem? Drama. Has he told you that he has a problem dating women with children? Drama. Is he emotionally or physically abusive towards you? Drama. You get the jest of what I’m saying. Your children didn’t ask to be born; therefore, it’s your responsibility to protect them. Don’t knowingly bring drama into the lives of your children.

Single parents have to be very selective about who they bring around their children. If you’re dating a nice guy and you want to take it to the next level, consider the following:

• Is he reliable? Does he do what he says he’s going to do? If you can’t depend on him to keep his word, then you don’t need to introduce your children to a flake.
• Is he impatient or short tempered? If so, he may lose his cool and become violent with your children?
• Do you trust him? Trust is a big deal. Can you trust him not to harm your children?
• Does he have any children of his own? If so, does he have custody? If not, is he active in their lives? Does he pay child support? If he has never been married and has multiple “baby mommas,” most likely he wouldn’t have any problem getting you pregnant and not marrying you either. And if he’s a deadbeat dad, you need to run and not walk to the nearest exit.
• Does he like children? Not all men like or want children. If a man can’t accept your children, then he doesn’t need to be with you. You’re a part of a package. It’s all or nothing.

Another thing, before you introduce your beau to your children, have a long discussion with him and find out his intentions. You need to know how he feels about you. Is he in love with you? Are the two of you working towards marriage? How does he feel about dating a woman with children? If he has children, does he want any more? If he doesn’t have children, is it important to him to have biological children of his own? You need to know all of this and more before involving your children in your love life.

The Decision Whether or Not to Have Sex

We all know what the Bible states about sex outside of marriage. It tells us not to fornicate or commit adultery. Sins of the flesh are particularly grievous to God because they are the most personal – they involve our bodies, our temples.

It is my heart’s desire that single parents would get their spiritual life together. Being single is a great time to become closer to God. As a parent, it’s our obligation to our children to pray from them. Our prayers for our children are stored in the storehouse of God. And because of our prayers, tithing and acts of kindness, our children receive favor from God.

Sin clouds our judgment and hinders our prayers. While you’re single I would encourage you to become involved in your local church and volunteer in your community. It’s a great opportunity to do the Lord’s work and meet interesting people in the process.

As you grow in your spiritual walk, you will find yourself convicted by the Holy Spirit every time you sin. Spiritual growth is a process, and regardless of where you are in your spiritual journey, we all have areas of our lives that need work. If we were perfect we wouldn’t need God. With that said, if you find that you’re unable or unwilling to abstain from sex until marriage, here are a few points to consider.

• Don’t sleep around. Promiscuity is immature and irresponsible. You’re a parent now, act like it.
• Practice safe sex. Never have sex without a condom. Even though condoms are not 100% effective (only abstinence is 100% effective), using some protection is better than none at all. There are so many sexually transmitted diseases that it’ll make your head spin. Don’t get caught out there and don’t be deceived. Some diseases are not curable, some cause birth defects, and others can make you sterile.
• Don’t bring your partner to your house. Go to a hotel or to his house. If that’s not possible, wait until your children are asleep before you entertain company. And he should be gone before your children get up in the morning.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

Why Women Cheat (Article)

2007-10-26T19:40:00.000-05:00

Forbidden fruit seems so much sweeter. Cheating spouses is nothing new. However, studies have shown that the number of cheating women is nearly parallel to unfaithful men. I spoke with two women who we shall call “Sally” and “Darla” to protect their identity, regarding extramarital affairs. The question is, “Why do women cheat?”

According to Darla, she was married to a minister. Her husband focused his energy on helping the church and others. Emotionally, Darla felt neglected. Feeling lonely, and missing her husband’s affection, aided in Darla’s decision to seek companionship outside of her marriage. Although she knew that her behavior conflicted with her spiritual beliefs, she still indulged. For Darla, sex with her husband had become stale and predictable. Largely due to the emotional disconnect. Living a double life wreaked emotional havoc on her psyche. She became depressed, and extremely confused. Unable to trust her own judgment, she sent mixed messages to her husband. On the one hand, she showed him love motivated by guilt. On the other, she no longer desired his touch, which caused additional marital breakdown because of the lack of intimacy. When asked if it was worth it, Darla replied, “No. If I could do it over again, I would be far less selfish. When my husband found out about the affair, it nearly killed him. He suffered a heart attack, and was hospitalized. Now we’re divorced, and I have paid the price. I had to file for bankruptcy, lost my house, car, and friends. In order to deal with the guilt and shame, I took Prozac.”

Sally has had multiple extramarital affairs, and is the mother of three. When asked why she cheats on her husband, Sally replied, “Because I don’t love him the way a wife should love her husband.”

“Then why not divorce him,” I inquired.

“I don’t know. I have thought about it lots of times, but I don’t want to leave him without having someone better to go to.” Her eyes watery, she continued, “My marital relationship is volatile at times. When we fight, we yell, throw things, and sometimes it gets physical. I have a lot of built up resentments toward him, and it’s hard for me to respect him.”

“It sounds to me like you have fallen out of love with him. Is that true?”

“My feelings have changed, and I don’t love him like I used to.”

“Does your husband know that he is loving on borrowed time?”

“No.” She laughed.

“Do you regret cheating on your husband?"

“I know it’s not right, but it helps me cope. It’s an outlet.”

“Have you considered marriage counseling?”

“I have, but he won’t go. He says that it’s a waste of time and money.”

“What about talking to your clergyman?”

“We did that before we got married, and it helped for a little while. Then he went back to his usual ways.”

“Seeing fault with someone else is easy. Looking within and finding a flaw with our own character is difficult. Would you consider seeking individual counseling instead?”

“I never thought about it.”

“I’ve heard lots of therapists say that change comes from within. We can’t change anyone but ourselves. Perhaps you should do a self evaluation to find out why your response to a bad relationship is to cheat.”

Crying, she said, “It’s the coward’s way of dealing with a situation. It doesn’t solve the problem, but it gives you temporary relief. I will go to counseling, because this is a pattern that I’ve been dealing with for years. It’s time for a change.”

After speaking with Sally and Darla, I had a better understanding of “Why women cheat.” I’m not a psychologist or psychiatrist, but I am a woman. The common thread between both women was pain. They were each involved in dysfunctional relationships that took an emotional toll on them. Feeling helpless, they sought refuge in the arms of other men. There is no one reason as to why women cheat. The reasons vary from woman to woman. Some women cheat for emotional support, others for money, and some for sex. Whatever the reason, it’s a problem. In order to deal with unfaithfulness, the cheater must want to reform. If not, there won’t be a change. Don’t wait until you get caught to straighten up. If you love the person you’re with, you owe it to them and to yourself, to be faithful. Infidelity destroys families, and has cost people their lives and livelihood. If you’re unhappy, look within for the answers. If that does not suffice, seek professional help. You’re a lot stronger than you think you are, and you don’t have to depend on someone else for your survival. Even if you need to go back to school to further your education in hopes of getting a better job, and increasing your earning potential. The bottom line is that you are where you are today because of the choices you made yesterday. Henceforth, choose wisely.

Copywritten by Dwan Abrams

I Won An Award

2007-10-24T20:13:00.001-05:00

I'm feeling so good right about now! I just received news that my novel, Only True Love Waits, won the 2007 Pen of the Writer POWER Award for Best Fiction. This means so much to me. It's my first writing award!

Only True Love Waits is my second novel, and I really enjoyed writing it. The storyline was a lot of fun with an unexpected plot twist. Even for me.

Writing is not only my profession; it's my passion. To actually win an award is just icing on the cake. Having readers enjoy my work, that is the cake, and it's awesome. I'm so grateful. I'm feeling so emotional; I want to cry. Tears of joy, of course.

Divorcing the Devil Synopsis

2007-10-24T20:09:00.000-05:00

Synopsis: For Skyler Little, it's not easy being a psychoanalyst and a Christian. Sometimes it's hard not getting drawn into her patients' personal lives filled with adultery, abuse and turmoil. Yet, she remains steadfast in providing them with the best in Christian counseling. She even counsels her friend, Gabriella, who has just learned that her husband is cheating on her.
But when Skyler learns whom Gabriella's husband is cheating on her with, things start to spiral out of control, and she is now caught in the middle. Can Skyler get herself out of this situation, or can anyone be spared when you try to divorce the devil?

Divorcing the Devil Excerpt

2007-10-24T20:07:00.000-05:00

Skyler

I feel so good this morning, like a kitten after someone has scratched under his chin and given him a bowl of chilled milk. My body tingles as I think about the night of passion my husband Donovan and I shared. I love watching him sleep. The way the satin cover drapes over his trim waist, exposing just a hint of his toned thighs. Dreadlocks scattered in different directions over the pillow. Skin the color of pecans. He's sexy with a capital "S."

Donovan opened his chestnut brown eyes and yawned. Rubbing the stubble on his chin, he cooed, "Good morning, baby."

I love his Jamaican accent. I gave him a naughty smile, letting him know I was very pleased with last night's performance.

"Good morning yourself. Sleep well?" I kissed him on the lips and caressed his muscular chest.

"Like a bear in hibernation." He stretched and yawned. "You got any appointments today?"

It was Monday morning and I had two clients who had regular appointments with me every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Their times changed depending on their schedules, but the days remained the same. I rolled over and glanced at the clock. It read 7:30 a.m.

"I actually have one at nine o'clock."

"Too bad. I was hoping we could continue where we left off." He wrapped his arms around me.

"Later."

I kissed him again and freed myself from his embrace. I stretched my arms and legs before placing my bare feet on the cold, hardwood floor. I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth before stepping into a hot shower. The pulsating water kneaded against my flesh like a million little fingers. It felt so good; I didn't want to get out. That's exactly what I needed to wake up because there was something about Monday mornings that made getting out of bed more difficult. Especially since Sundays typically consisted of Donovan and I going to mid-morning worship service and brunch immediately afterward.

My eyes were closed as I tilted my head back and allowed the water to dance against my neck. Then I heard the glass shower door open. A sudden surge of cold air clung to my body like the plastic sweat suits people wore in the eighties for rapid weight loss.

"Hey," I said as I opened my eyes and turned my head in the same direction as the breeze.

Donovan stepped into the shower. Rather than complaining about the sweltering water as he usually did, he turned the knob to a cooler temperature. I didn't say anything. I could tell he was feeling amorous by the way he touched me. Ordinarily, I would never leave my husband in such a state, but I had an appointment. I had to go. As a psychoanalyst, I realize the male ego is fragile. This situation needed to be handled with tender loving care.

I turned to face him. "Donovan, I would like nothing better than to spend the entire day in your arms."

The water began to mist on his wheat colored dreadlocks. I looked at his six-pack and lost my train of thought. If I leave this fine man alone, I'll be the one needing a therapist, I thought. I quickly reeled myself back in, reminding myself that my patients depend on me. Being responsible wasn't an option. It was a job requirement.

So I said, "I'll be home early. We can have a romantic dinner and pick up where we left off."

A romantic dinner for us meant sitting down at the same time and eating food that wasn't take-out or delivery.

He pursed his lips, pretended to pout, and said, "What's your definition of early?"

"No later than six o'clock."

"I'm gonna hold you to it," he pointed sternly.

I smiled, grabbed my towel and stepped out of the shower. Donovan remained behind. I stayed in the bathroom while I put light makeup on my tawny colored skin, smeared gloss on my thin lips and pulled my long, jet black hair into a tight bun. I usually blow dry my hair straight, but today I left it in its naturally curly state.

While studying my reflection in the mirror, I noticed that my sharp features and high cheekbones looked more European than black. Donovan says I look like Mariah Carey. Like most women though, I could point out numerous things about my appearance that I'd love to change; my lips are one. I think they're too thin. I'd love to have those full, luscious lips like Angelina Jolie.

Donovan finished showering and started shaving. I went into the Victorian style bedroom and put on sexy lingerie underneath my black silk crepe de chine flapper dress with ecru collar and cuffs and completed the ensemble with a pearl necklace. I usually wear lingerie underneath my work attire because it makes me feel sexy. Reminds me not to take myself too seriously and enjoy life. And the fact that Donovan loved it didn't hurt either.

I returned to the bathroom just as Donovan was spitting his mouthwash into the sink. He dried his mouth with a hand towel.

"You look too good to leave the house," Donovan said, smiling, revealing beautiful white teeth.

I couldn't stop the blush. After three years of marriage, he still had a way of making me feel giddy.

"Thanks." I kissed him on the lips. His breath was cool and smelled like mint. "Have a good day."

"You too. And what time are you going to be home again?"

Our eyes connected. He reminded me because he knew that my schedule was erratic.

"By six." I reiterated my point by holding up six fingers.

I walked downstairs into the family room where my designer all-in-one briefcase handbag purse waited for me at the door like a puppy needing to go out. I picked it up, along with my keys, and left.

While driving in my BMW 325 along Peachtree Street in Atlanta, I noticed the brilliance of the sky. It reminded me of a day when I was around five or six years old, and I asked my dad why the sky was blue. He replied, "A clear sky on a sunny day appears blue because of Rayleigh scattering of the light from the sun." My dad had a Ph.D. and was a rocket scientist. Those types of answers weren't uncommon coming from him.

I realized at an early age that I liked smart men, and I wanted to be smart. My dad and I would read the newspaper together and discuss current events. He would tell me that there was nothing more attractive than a beautiful woman with brains. That stuck with me. I studied hard and graduated from high school when I was fourteen years old. Without taking a break, I went straight to college at my mom's Alma Mater.

After graduating from New York University, I attended NYU School of Medicine. Then I enrolled in NYU Psychoanalytic Institute. I decided to become a psychoanalyst because the human mind fascinated me. I liked thinking outside of the proverbial box and helping people. It gave me a sense of accomplishment. I felt as if my life had purpose, meaning.

Donovan and I met four years ago while we were both living in New York. I was twenty-eight and he was thirty. I was working as an Assistant Clinical Professor at NYU. We were at a Jewish deli located on Second Avenue in East Village. While we were waiting for our lunch orders, we struck up casual conversation and ended up sitting together at one of the plain white tables lining the wall. Donovan told me that his family had migrated from Jamaica to New York during the Jamaican slave trade. He had a Ph.D. and worked as a Product Development Chemist. I was immediately attracted to him, because it's true, women are attracted men who remind them of their fathers. Since I held my father in high esteem, my standards for a mate were equally as lofty.

Donovan's family lived in New York, and I had met his parents, four brothers, three sisters and a slew of nieces and nephews. I loved his family. Donovan was the youngest child and didn't have any children from his previous relationships. As an only child, I always dreamed of having a big family. His family "adopted" me, and I adored them. It warmed my heart to hear his nieces and nephews refer to me as aunty.

Donovan and I had been dating for six months before I took him home to Boca Raton, Florida to meet my parents. Donovan insisted on meeting my parents because he said he wanted to marry me. We went to visit my parents during the Christmas holidays. My dad had retired from NASA and my mom owned a dance studio. He was the only guy I had ever taken home because I had devoted so much of my time studying, thus Donovan was the first serious relationship I ever had.

When my parents met Donovan, they too fell in love with him. I knew Donovan would end up being my husband when my dad told me I had a good guy on my hands. We got married in Florida at my parents' church. Not long afterward, Donovan and I relocated from New York to Atlanta, because Donovan got a job at Coca Cola.

I arrived at my office fifteen minutes early and Yahkie, my assistant, greeted me. My stomach was grumbling, and I was famished. I wished I had grabbed a bagel or something.

"Good morning, boss lady," Yahkie said sounding chipper, handing me a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Just the way you like it. Black with two sugars. I left you a Chick-fil-A chicken biscuit on your desk, too."

I couldn't help but smile.

"How did you know I'd be hungry?" I tried to play it off.

"Are you kidding me? You're always hungry, but you hate to cook breakfast. You don't like to wake up early. You'd rather spend your time sleeping or getting to know your fine husband in the biblical sense. You know I know you."

I couldn't resist laughing. Yahkie had been my assistant since I started my practice two years ago. I'll never forget the way he came into my office for his interview. It was summertime and he wore a blue and white seersucker suit. He looked chic. Even though he tried to tone down his flamboyant ways for the interview, I could tell he would let loose once given the opportunity. He was, and still is, the most fashionable man I've ever met. His appearance is meticulous. From his neatly cut hair to his pedicured fingers, he's a vision of togetherness. Even beyond the physical, he's highly organized and takes the initiative. I was impressed with him the first day we met and he's exceeded my expectations.

"Thanks for breakfast. I'll try to finish in time for my nine o'clock," I promised as I walked into my suite. A wooden bookcase lined with hardcover books ranging from the Greek Classics to textbooks to self-help greeted me when I entered.

I placed my mug on top of my oak desk and slid my case underneath. Then I sat down on a soft, black leather, high back chair and ate. The breakfast sandwich hit the spot. I dabbed the corners of my mouth and checked my Omega. The time was 9:28. A couple of minutes later my intercom buzzed. It was Yahkie telling me that my new patient, Monday Jackson, had arrived. I was glad she showed up on time because late arrivals threw off my schedule. I dumped my trash in the receptacle located on the side of my desk and told him to send her in.

I walked from behind my desk and extended my hand to her. "Monday, I'm Dr. Skyler Little. It's a pleasure to meet you."

We gave each other a firm handshake. She flashed a smile that revealed tiny teeth that looked like Chiclets. She appeared to be at least five foot six and weighed about 250 pounds. Although she was portly, she carried herself well. She wore a yellow shirt, black slacks and black high heels. And her makeup was flawless.

"Nice to meet you, too," she replied.

I offered her a seat on the gray sofa as I sat next to her on a chaise decorated with a black and beige African design motif. The various animal prints, such as: cheetah, leopard and zebra, covering several chairs around my office revealed that my personality type is Sanguine.

I told her that I preferred to record all of my sessions so that I could refer back to them if necessary. I assured her the tapes were for my personal use and wouldn't be shared with anyone without her permission or a court order. Then I explained that I begin and end every session with prayer. She informed me that she attended church regularly and was perfectly fine with us praying together. So we proceeded.

We bowed our heads and closed our eyes as I prayed aloud.

"Heavenly Father, thank you for this day. I pray that you be with us during this meeting. Lord, use me as a vessel for the upbuilding of your Kingdom. It is my humble prayer that I decrease so that you may increase. Let the meditations of my heart be pleasing and acceptable in your sight. Remove any obstacle that could hinder me from being an effective witness for you. Forgive us for our sins of omission and commission. In Jesus' name, we pray, Amen." Then I asked, "So, what brings you here today?"

She pointed at a 5x7 framed photo sitting on the corner of my desk and asked if the people in the picture were my husband and me. I glanced at the photo even though it was the only one displayed and told her we took it last year when we went to Jamaica for vacation.

"Nice. Is that where you're from?"

I was taken aback by her question because no one had ever asked me that before.

"Not me, my husband," I explained.

She nodded her head and smiled. "You make a lovely couple."

"Thanks." I asked her again to tell me why she came to see me. I wondered why she kept avoiding the question.

"May I call you Sky?" She shifted in her seat.

"Sure, whatever works for you. Lots of people call me that."

"Sky, I have a problem." She crossed her right leg over her left which made her legs seem as long as stilts. "My boyfriend suggested I talk to someone because he can't seem to help me."

I acknowledged by nodding my head.

"I don't know where to begin."

I explained to her that counseling sessions were a process and that we weren't going to resolve her issues in one meeting. I asked her to tell me about her childhood, her parents.

"My family," she sighed, "is complicated. My mom and dad were married until I was five. After they divorced, I never saw my dad again."

"Before we continue," I said, "would you please tell me the names of your parents so that I won't have to keep referring to them as your mother and father?"

"Sure. Paige and Stan."

"Thanks. Please continue."

Monday told me that Paige and Stan's marriage began to deteriorate due to infidelity. She said they argued a lot. It wasn't until after Paige accused Stan of child molestation that they divorced.

"Did Stan molest you?" I rubbed the back of my neck with my right hand, indicating this wasn't easy for me to listen to. Every time one of my patients revealed she had been molested, I could feel tension creeping its way into my neck like a cheating husband trying to slip into his marital bed undetected after he's been with his lover. I maintained my professional composure even though deep inside, I felt angry. Children are innocent. The thought of someone violating them infuriated me. I fought back revealing my disgust.

Monday uncrossed her legs. "Yes. He used to fondle me and actually penetrated me when I was…five." Her eyes welled with tears. I offered her a box of Kleenex. She pulled a couple of tissues out of the box and dabbed the corners of her sparkling eyes. "My mom flipped out when she found out," she continued. "Burned him on the arm with an iron. Threw him out of the house and then reported him to child services."

I rubbed my arm. I empathized with how painful it must've felt getting burned with an iron. I never advocate or condone violence, but I could understand how a mother could be driven to such drastic behavior due to the love of her child. Then I asked, "Did he go to jail?"

"Yes. A social worker conducted an investigation, and I had to see a child psychiatrist."

"I see."

Not long afterward, the timer went off, notifying us our session had ended. There was so much more I wanted to say, but I told her we'd resume the conversation at our next appointment. We prayed, and she left.

I checked my inspirational desk calendar and noticed that I had a few minutes before my next appointment, so I called Donovan on his cell phone. As soon as he said "'Ello," I puckered my lips and blew a short series of kisses into the receiver. Then I hung up. We called those "drive-bys." We did a drive-by whenever one of us was thinking about the other but didn't have enough time for a drawn out conversation. It was an alternative to saying "I love you."

I had to purge my mind so that I could mentally prepare for my upcoming meeting with Ambrosia. Ambrosia had been my patient for the past six months. Her father died when she was little, and her mother never remarried. When I met Ambrosia, she was in a relationship with a married man, and they had two children together. Her relationship had soured, and she needed someone to talk to. She came to see me because she figured I would listen without judging her.

Yahkie came barging into my office, interrupting my thoughts like he was a policeman making a drug bust before the suspects could get away.

"Boss lady." He closed the door behind him, arms flailing in the air. "Ambrosia is in the lobby, and she looks a hot mess. She looks like she's been fighting with Iron Mike Tyson of old and lost. Bruises everywhere. Got on shades. I bet she got a black eye."

My heart raced and I dipped my head in thought. I felt nervous. "Bring her back."

Yahkie left my office. My mind was on emotional overload. I wrung my hands, paced the floor. As a professional, I knew better than to get personally involved in the lives of my clients, but as a person, I couldn't help but care. When Ambrosia entered, I stopped pacing. Seeing her in that condition made my stomach drop, the same way I feel whenever I ride a roller coaster ride at Six Flags and don't hold my breath. The Jackie O. type shades she wore covered half her oval shaped face and were in direct contrast with her milky white skin. I didn't bother to ask her to take them off, even though I could see blotchy red spots on her cheeks and that her bottom lip was swollen. The thought of what hid behind those glasses scared me. I didn't want to see because I knew I'd get more upset than I already was. I took a deep breath. She closed the door behind her. I exhaled.

"What happened?" I asked.

Silence.

I walked over to Ambrosia and wrapped my arms around her. Even though I'm five foot six, athletic and have an "apple bottom," as Donovan would say, standing next to Ambrosia's shapely but petite self, I felt like an Amazon. She clung to me the way a baby Black Howler Monkey clings to its mother's fur. She sobbed on my shoulder so hard her body shook. I closed my eyes and told her to let it out. As she continued to cry, I silently prayed for her. I stroked her highlighted auburn hair. She didn't have to tell me what was wrong because experience had taught me it had something to do with her babies' daddy.

Bookstores Are The WORST Place to Sell Your Book

2007-10-10T07:19:00.000-05:00

An interesting and eye-opening article (especially for new authors) that was passed along by Urban Christian's managing editor.

Book Marketing 101 – Bookstores Are The WORST Place to Sell Your Book!

How many times when you dreamed of readers finding your book did your dreams center around them finding it in a "brick-and-mortar" bookstore? Chances are, most of the time… This is the fantasy the leads too many authors to the endless pain of the author-agent-publisher rejection cycle. And, it rarely sells any significant amount of books.

The realities of bookstore sales are frightening – far more books fail courtesy of bookstores than succeed. Consider these facts:

Returns rates exceed 70% in many categories – that means bookstores send back 7 out of every 10 books they buy. YOU the author bear the biggest brunt of the pain of returns. The publisher has other books they can rely on – you, however, have seen your dream destroyed.

Bookstores buy very few copies on a story-by-store basis, and they typically only merchandise the books that have big marketing dollars behind them. Unless you can afford a multimillion-dollar marketing campaign, it is highly unlikely that your book will be stacked anywhere a potential buyer can find it (let alone in the front of the store.)
Author signing events typically sell only about 7 books – all your scheduling, time, calling stores to set up events – results in selling 7 books…

Bookstores take up to 90 days to pay for your books – and to mitigate what they owe you they will quite often return your remaining stock WITHIN the 90 days. Retail outlets typically command very large discounts (but then so do online retailers in many cases…)

The typical retail buyer is not a destination purchaser, but a browser (most readers who know what they want go to the online retail sites). A reader in search of a book can be a GREAT customer. But when you are shelved next to all the other books in your particular category, your competition stands as good a chance at getting bought as you do… and if you are stocked near a well-known author, most buyers will bypass your book to pick up the well-known name.

Now that you've had all the "good" news – here is an interesting fact:

Over half the books sold in the publishing industry are sold through NON-bookstore vehicles. That means that more books are sold in other places than bookstores- and your book is likely to be most successful through these outlets. And online sales – driven by a targeted, effective, and comprehensive marketing plan – will be the cornerstone of your book's success.

Authors spend a lot of time and money chasing the improbable, when the "golden egg" of self-publishing and self-promotion is right in front of them. In my opinion, I'd sell my books everywhere except the brick and mortar bookstore!

Utilizing the tools that make the internet the powerhouse it is today will build sales that you never dreamed were possible. Search Marketing, blogs, newsletters, email campaigns, web sites, and your personal appearances (yes, the human touch still has meaning in book sales) are the new tools for building great book sales.

As always - if you like this information (and found it helpful) please feel free to post it on your site, put it in a blog, toss it in your newsletter, or in general spread it around. Please just give us credit here at www.dogearpublishing.net. If you have any questions or comments - please write us at AuthorResources@dogearpublishing.net

The Ultimate Author!

2007-10-10T07:10:00.000-05:00

A few months ago I received an email from one of my writer's groups regarding a casting call for The Ultimate Author. It's a reality show and the first of its kind. I was curious, so I packed my bags and took a trip to Ft. Lauderdale. I rode for six hours and drove three. Since I love going to the beach, I figured that regardless of how things turned out, at least I got a mini-vacation in the process.

When I arrived for the audition I was a little nervous. The people associated with the show were so friendly and professional that my anxiety immediately subsided. As you would expect, all sorts of people were auditioning. I met an author from New York who spent his days peddling his books on street corners. There was a young lady with blue hair, blue eyeshadow and a T-shirt that promoted her and her web sites. It was a great marketing strategy, because she was truly unforgettable. Especially since she said her writing was better than Zane's.

Anyway, the first part of the screening process was a grammar and spelling test. After that came an onscreen reading and interview. The final stage was a one hour writing test where the contestants were given a genre and characters. From that we had to write a chapter.
I don't think I mentioned that cameras were recording us throughout. Well, they were. It was a lot of fun. And guess what? I was selected as a contestant! I was in Ft. Lauderdale from August 4-12 taping episodes for The Ultimate Author!

I'm a Groupie

2007-10-10T06:53:00.000-05:00

For the past few years, I've regularly attended For Sister's Only (FSO) in Atlanta. I usually wait until the last minute to purchase my ticket, because I don't like to commit to doing things too far in advance. It just seems like whenever I make plans too early, something comes up.

Anyway, FSO usually has some great authors in attendance; however, this year was exceptional. I met Stephanie Perry Moore, Joy King, and Vanessa Davis Griggs to name a few. Now, I fully understand what it means to be a groupie. Well, maybie not a bonafide groupie, but let me explain.

The first time I met Eric Jerome Dickey, I was in awe of him. That was when he had a book signing at the Margaret Mitchell House. I didn't think another author could have that effect on me... until, I met Marissa Monteilh at FSO. Let me tell you, I felt like I was in the presence of a rock star. The sistah was absolutely beautiful, and I'm not just talking about her appearance either. Her positive, bubbling over energy was infectious. When I tell you that I absolutely love her, I'm not kidding. I didn't want to part company. By the time I did leave, I purchased three of her books just because. One because I enjoy reading her work, and two simply because I had never connected with another author on such a level. It was like sistah-girlfriend to the nth degree. To use Marissa's description of our encounter, "It was like a smile out loud experience." I was delighted to learn that she now lives in Atlanta. Hooray! I'm so looking forward to having lunch with her.

Have you ever met an author, or other high profile individual who made you feel that way?

Just Write! Workshop

2007-06-01T12:05:00.000-05:00

Nevaeh Publishing Presents the Just Write! Workshop

Whether you’re an aspiring writer or established author, the Just Write! Workshop is for you. Just Write! is no ordinary writers workshop. Our workshops are facilitated by some of the best in the business. You’ll have an opportunity to converse one-on-one with an Essence magazine’s Best Selling Author, as well as an award winning author whose book has been optioned for a major movie, and she has been tagged as a “younger Maya Angelou.” If you’ve ever dreamed of turning your book or screenplay into a movie or play, here’s your chance to pitch your idea to an award winning director and graduate of the New York Film Academy in Oxford University.

Just Write! will also give you insight into the publishing industry regardless of whether you’re self-published or have a mainstream publisher. In addition, you’ll learn the art of networking. A workshop of this magnitude would normally cost several hundred dollars. The authors, publishers, speakers and director associated with this workshop all agreed to reduce their normal honorariums to share their valuable insight and information with a select few. Don’t miss out on this incredible once in a lifetime opportunity.

When: Saturday, September 22, 2007 (8:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.)

Where: Atlanta Botanical Garden – Garden Workshop, 1345 Piedmont Avenue NE, Atlanta, GA 30309

Investment: Early Bird Special $85 ($95 after August 1, 2007)

Availability: Seating is limited so register early at www.nevaehpublishing.com

Registration Deadline: September 15, 2007 (After the deadline, call 770.482.2831 or email nevaehpublishing@yahoo.com for seating availability)

Fee Includes:

Continental Breakfast

Lunch

Conference Journal

Goody Bag

Raffle Drawings

Participants will be given the opportunity to purchase autographed copies of books by lecturing authors.

About the Presenters:

Dwan Abrams is a full-time novelist, publisher and speaker. She’s the author of the highly acclaimed novel, Only True Love Waits, The Scream Within and Favor (short story appearing in The Midnight Clear: Stories of Love, Hope and Inspiration anthology). She’s the founder, publisher and executive director of the newly established Nevaeh Publishing, LLC, a small press independent publishing house. Recently, Dwan accepted a two-book deal from Urban Christian. Through them, her book, Divorcing the Devil, will be released in April 2008. She also worked as a contributing writer and editor for Images of Us magazine and Nesting Solo magazine. She’s a member of The Writer's Hut, Shades of Romance Magazine (SORMAG), and Nubian Literary writing groups, as well as the International Women's Writers Guild, Military Writers Society of America (MWSA), The American Authors Association (AAA), American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW), The Marguerite Press Speaker's Bureau, PMA, the Independent Book Publishers Association and Small Publishers, Artists, and Writers Network (SPAWN). She was inducted in Who’s Who in Black Atlanta -- Entrepreneurs Section in 2006.

Kendra Norman-Bellamy is a multi-award-winning, four-time national bestselling author as well as the co-founder of KNB Publications, LLC, an independent self-publishing house. Beginning her literary career in 2002 as a self-published writer, Kendra’s works are currently made available through the respected publishers of Harlequin Books, Moody Publishers and Urban Books. To date, she has ten published literary credits, all of which have received high recognition and applause. In addition, she is a columnist for Hope for Women magazine, and Global Woman magazine and a contributing writer for WOW magazine. Kendra is also a motivational speaker, the Georgia Area Coordinator for the national organization, American Christian Fiction Writers, and the mastermind behind The Writer’s Hut, an online support group for creators of literary works. Furthermore, she is the founder of Cruisin’ for Christ, a groundbreaking cruise that celebrates Christian writing, gospel music, and other artistries that glorify God. Among her most recent recognitions, Kendra’s titles have graced Essence magazine’s Best Seller List multiple times and she was presented by the African American Literary Award Show with the 2006 Open Book Award for best Christian fiction.

Jada Cofield attended Clayton College and State University for one year. She then moved to Kent, England to attend one of the world’s top drama schools, Rose Bruford College and later to transfer to ALRA (Academy of Live Recorded Arts) also in London, England where she resided for four years. She recently returned to England to study Directing for film through the New York Film Academy in Oxford University. Jada is the recipient of the coveted Accolade Film Award for her first film “A Days Work.”

Angela Lewis is president of Speaking Concepts & Publications, LLC, and a contributing columnist for the Wyngate Gazette’s monthly newsletter. She’s the author of SSSs (Single, Sensational, Significant, Sisters) We Sizzle!! A Single Woman’s Guide To Attracting and Meeting Men and Do You Hear What I Hear?(short story appearing in The Midnight Clear anthology). Angela has a B.S. Degree in Business Administration from the University of South Carolina and an M.B.A. from the University of Phoenix. She was inducted in Who’s Who In Black Atlanta -- Literary Section in 2006.

Patricia Pope is the author of Colored Waiting Room, which deals with the conflict of a Black female entangled with the good ole boy system in rural East Tennessee. Colored Waiting Room, an award winning novel, has received rave review. A sought after motivational speaker and lecturer, Patricia has been tagged as a “younger Maya Angelou,” during a book signing and CBS affiliated filming in Harrisburg, Pa. Patricia is the holder of many awards and forensic medals. Colored Waiting Room named Best General Fiction 2005, BlackRefer.com; Nominated for Best Book for New Author 2006, YOUnity Book Club; featured in Black Men Magazine December 2006/January 2007; optioned for a major movie by Jowharah Films, Los Angeles, CA. Filming to begin the summer 2007 and will be shot entirely on location in TN.

For itinerary and registration information, please visit www.nevaehpublishing.com.

Top Reasons Manuscripts get Rejected

2007-03-21T14:36:00.000-05:00

This is a re-post from a blog entry written by Kelly Wallace at www.lovebitesromancereviews.com

What are some of the top reasons manuscripts get rejected? How can you avoid these mistakes and have a better chance of hearing "yes" instead of "Thanks, but not for us"?

1. Read the guidelines! Be certain of what the publisher is looking for and how to submit it. If a publisher specializes in historical romances, don't send in your paranormal novel, no matter how good it is. If your book has over 100,000 words, but they take only shorter works, send your story elsewhere. If they require submissions through agents only and you don't have one, move on. There are plenty of publishers out there and you're sure to find a fit for your story.

2. Hook the reader with a great beginning. Often we start our "real" story several pages or even a full chapter after we've droned on and on to "set things up." Start off with that bang! Take a look at the first part of your story. Where does it start getting good? Start there! Put your character right in the middle of conflict and you've hooked the reader. Weave in bits of background later. Be sure to pace your story as well. You don't have to keep your characters in that constant state of stress. Give them, and the reader, time to catch their breath, but don't let things drag too long. Think of a story as a roller coaster ride with hills, valleys, twists and turns.
3. Heavily sprinkling a story with numerous adjectives and adverbs show that we writer's are there in the background making the story happen instead of allowing the reader to get lost in our characters and their unfolding drama. Look for strong nouns that say what you want them to say instead of using adverbs and adjectives as crutches to hold them up and make your point. That's not to say that they should all be omitted, but go through your story and see just how many are being used when a more simple sentence with strong nouns would get your point across.

Also, don't be afraid to say "said". Saying, "she articulated, he ranted, she whined, he uttered" just shows that we're trying to find another way to say "said" or to get the emotion of the character across. Using "said" is simple and gets your point across, but many times you don't have to add any tag at all if you SHOW what your character is experiencing or doing. Such as, "I've had it!" Mary threw the crystal vase across the room where it hit the wall and burst into a million tiny pieces. There's no reason to write, "I've had it!" Mary retorted angrily. We can see she's spitting mad by her actions!

4. Too much detail and narrative is another big problem--and one I was guilty of in my earlier days, and still can be to a point. Be sure to break up narrative passages with action and dialogue. Don't let the characters be inside their heads for too long or everything just stops. It's true that your characters have an internal life and a life before the story began, but it's best to weave in details here and there instead of boring the reader with long passages.
When giving background details, only include what's important at that moment. When a character enters a room, what does he/she first see? What's important or what sticks out? Describing a room or scene down to the last speck of dust has the reader turning pages to get to the action again. When we view rooms, scenery and people in reality, we don't make a mental note of every detail. We choose a few things that stand out to us.

5. Flat characters are another sure way to get that rejection. Be certain that your characters are people your readers will care about. The reader has to care about your character and what will happen to him/her or there's no reason for them to keep reading. Give your characters values, dreams, faults, quirks...make them real!

Be sure that your character's motivations are clear. The character must want something, but something or someone is preventing him/her from getting it. Your characters should literally take over the story as you write. Sit down and just watch what your characters do and relay that onto the computer. If we start manipulating them, forcing them to do something, the story loses its pacing and it ends up flopping on its face. Characters MUST have a compelling goal and conflict to keep the reader interested.

6. No plot to the plot, or using worn-out plots is another problem area. True there are only 20 basic plots, but use your voice and your ideas to breathe new life into them. Give your characters something they want desperately but can't have at the moment. How will they get what they want? Who or what stands in the way? How will your character get around it or through it? Editors and readers want characters with strong personalities, not wishy-washy wimps. And they want stories that have something new to say. Just because there are thousands, if not millions, of vampire novels out there, with your ideas and your voice you can add a uniqueness to it that makes it brand new.

My greatest method of moving the story along and creating a good plot? Ask yourself lots of questions and answer them. "What if a woman was lost in the middle of the jungle? How did she get there? Who is she? What is she after? Who's there with her? How will she get out?" By starting out with a simple two word question, you can generate a plethora of ideas for a novel!

7. Always read! Read what's being written out there in the world. Read for pleasure, but also read to learn. Whatever genre you're interested in writing, read as many books as you can that are in this line, especially if you enjoy the author's writing style. These people are in print and there's no reason you can't be too. As you read, make mental or physical notes of the characters, the pacing, the background details. What do you like? What could be better? I have a highlighter with me every time I read a book--provided it's my book! If there's a good line of dialogue, something that piques my interest, a good lesson in writing in detail, flashbacks, conflict, love scenes, you name it, I highlight it! This has offered me more inspiration and more guidance than any nonfiction book on "How to Write."

Although these tips won't keep you out of the rejection pile every time, by following them you have a much better chance at signing a contract than you do at adding yet another rejection to the pile.

Happy writing!

Interesting Article

2007-03-05T14:22:00.000-05:00

This article was passed along by the executive editor of Urban Christian. I think you will find that it makes for interesting reading.
___________________________________________________________________
As the author, promotion is your responsibility whether you land a traditional royalty publisher, go with a fee-based POD publishing service or self-publish your book.

Some of you will also go back over the contract you signed and figure out that where it says, "We will make your book available to bookstores," doesn't mean "Your books will be sold by the thousands through bookstores nationwide." Instead, it means, "If a bookseller comes asking for a book like this, we will tell them about your book."

Yes, I speak to many disappointed, disillusioned authors every year. That's why I'm currently on a mission to find authors before they start making expensive, heart-breaking mistakes. Now this is not to say that signing with a fee-based POD publishing service is necessarily a mistake. The mistakes occur when the author is not industry savvy when he or she makes uninformed decisions.

So what constitutes the missing links I speak of? What are the steps an author should take after placing of the last period on his manuscript and before signing a publishing contract? See below.

Note: Actually, I'd rather you follow these steps even BEFORE you write the first word of a novel, memoir or nonfiction book.

1: Determine your motivation for writing this book. If you have a book inside that just must come out and you're interested only in sharing it with family and a few friends, go ahead and do your thing your way. On the other hand, if you are driven by the desire for fame and fortune - if you want to be published and widely read - keep reading. It could make the difference between pitiful failure and wild success.

2: Study the publishing industry. You wouldn't start any other business without knowing something about the field. Well, publishing is a business and your book is a product. It's imperative that you know something about the industry, your publishing options and the ramifications or consequences of your choices. When you take the time to learn about publishing, you'll also begin to understand that you - the author - are responsible for selling your book. This fact comes as a shock to many hopeful authors, especially those who learn the truth after they've entered into the extremely competitive publishing field.

Learn about the publishing industry by joining publishing organizations such as SPAWN (Small Publishers, Artists and Writers Network) http://www.spawn.org/, SPAN and PMA. Read magazines and newsletters related to the industry: SPAWNews, PMA Independent, SPAN Connection, Book Promotion Newsletter, RJ Communications Publishing Basics and many others.Read books such as, "The Right Way to Write, Publish and Sell Your Book," "The Successful Writer's Handbook," (by Patricia Fry), "The Self-Publishing Manual," (by Dan Poynter) and "The Fine Print of Self-Publishing," (by Mark Levine)

3: Write a book proposal. A book proposal is a business plan for your book. It's something that you need in order to make the best decisions for your book and you might even land a traditional royalty publisher with a well-written book proposal. A proposal for a nonfiction book might include a synopsis, a marketing plan, a comparative study of similar books and a chapter outline. It will also identify your target audience and, if you plan to approach a publisher with your proposal, you would include an "about the author" section.

4: Identify your competition. Why is this important? You (and a prospective publisher) need to know if yours is a viable book. Is the market saturated in this area or is there room for another book on this topic? How is your book different from what else is out there? If there are no or few books on the topic or in this genre, perhaps there is a reason. Maybe there is no market for this book. How do you conduct a comparative study of similar books? Visit a major bookstore in your area and go to the shelf where your book might be. Look at all of the books shelved there. Read many of them. Determine what's different about yours - what makes it better? Maybe you'll discover that your book idea is quite similar to several published books. Can you come up with an angle or a slant that is different - one that makes your book more useful, interesting, entertaining or informative, for example? If your nonfiction book is just like all the others, why bother producing it? How healthy is the fiction market? Your comparative study will most likely reveal what sort of fiction is popular today. Young adult novels are selling well, for example. There also seems to be a big desire for fantasy and thrillers. Maybe you plan to write a memoir. If you are not a high profile person, you may want to rethink your desire to write a memoir for national distribution. Many authors write memoirs in hopes of using their own tragic stories to educate or inform others. You may well discover that a memoir isn't the best way to do that. Ask the hard questions and use the comparative study of similar books to get the answers you need in order to make all of the right decisions.

5: Identify your target audience. Even before you write that book, you need to know who you are addressing. If it is a historical novel, presumably, those who typically read historical novels will be interested in yours. It's a little tricky, though. Most novel readers are loyal to certain authors and aren't easily lured to read something by an unknown. If yours is a nonfiction book, you must identify the audience who wants the information you are providing or who is interested in the topic. This does not include those who you believe should read the book, but those who will want to read the book. If you are honest in the evaluation of your target audience, you may discover that it isn't a very large segment of people. This knowledge may even prompt you to change the focus of your book or abandon the project altogether. I can't even begin to tell you how many authors I meet who have written the wrong book for the wrong audience and now regret the money spent, the time involved and the emotions invested.

6: Locate your target audience. So now that you know who they are, you need to know where they are. And if you say, "Bookstores," you're probably wrong. Bookstores aren't always the best place to sell books, especially nonfiction books. Just look at the competition in the mega-bookstores. Your book on gnarly ski slopes throughout the U.S. might sell better through winter sports stores and catalogs, appropriate Web sites, magazines and newsletters and at ski resorts. A book on dog grooming would sell best in pet stores, grooming shops and through reviews and articles in pet magazines, for example. If you discover that you don't have a solid target audience, take another look at your book idea. Maybe you need to refocus. Now doesn't it make sense to discover the truth about your book before you publish it?

7: Plan your promotional tactics. Some people will buy the book just because they know you or know who you are. So start by developing a massive mailing list. List everyone in your personal addressbook, your rolodex at work, your class reunion roster, your Christmas card list, you email list and add your child's teachers, fellow church and club members, your mailman, neighbors - everyone you know. Collect business cards from everyone you meet. Offer your list a pre-publication discount if they order the book before the publication date. I have managed to pay a good portion of my printing expenses for several of my books through pre-publication orders.

Build a Web site related to your book. List magazines, newsletters and Web sites that might review your book. Outline articles/stories you can write to help promote your book. (Read, "A Writer's Guide to Magazine Articles for Book Promotion and Profit" by Patricia Fry.) Obtain a list of civic organizations seeking speakers. Contact bookstores nationwide and plan book signings. Ask local radio/TV stations to interview you. Send press releases to appropriate newspaper editors throughout the nation. Discover many additional book promotion ideas in books by Patricia Fry, John Kremer, Fran Silverman and others.

8: Build promotion into your book. For a novel, choose a setting and a topic that will be conducive to promotion. For example, give a character diabetes. If he handles it in a positive way or has something to teach others about the disease, the American Diabetes Association might be interested in helping you to promote your book. For a history or a how-to book, involve a lot of people and agencies. Interview people, quote them and list those people and agencies who helped with your research. They'll all buy books and promote the book to their friends and acquaintances.

9: Establish your platform. Your platform is your following - your way of getting the attention of your target audience. The most successful authors are those who establish a platform before they produce a book. If your book relates to conserving California water, your platform might be that you have been the general manager of a water company for 25 years and on the California State Water Board for most of that time. You have name recognition and credibility in that field.

Maybe your book is on an aspect of acupuncture. Your platform might include the fact that you've studied and taught acupuncture internationally for many years. You've written articles for numerous magazines on topics related to acupuncture, you have a column in a local newspaper on alternative healing practices, you have a Web site and a newsletter that goes out to 20,000 people. What if you have no platform? The time to establish one is before you write the book. Maybe you want to write a book on personal finances after retirement, but you don't have a professional background in finance. Here are some things you can do. Build on the financial background you do have - join organizations, take classes and become known in financial and senior circles. Involve experts in your book - maybe even share authorship with someone who is well-known in the financial field. Join Toastmasters to develop better public speaking skills and start presenting workshops locally for retirees. Write articles for a variety of magazines. Develop a Web site and start circulating a newsletter related to your topic. If you hope to sell more than just a few copies of your book to friends and relatives, follow each of these nine steps and you will experience the success you desire.

Patricia Fry is the author of 25 books, including "The Right Way to Write, Publish and Sell Your Book."

www.matilijapress.com/rightway.html. Visit her blog often: www.matilijapress.com/publishingblog.

Black Women Need Love Too

2007-02-24T12:41:00.000-05:00

What does it take to love a black woman? A black woman is the backbone of the African-American community. A black woman will take care of her children with or without support. A black woman will cry privately but not publicly. Being a black woman signifies strength. For so long, black women have been misunderstood. The media portrays black women as loud talking, rubber necking, bad attitude having, with little or no regard for their bodies. Well, black women need love, too. So, what does it take to love a black woman?

Make love to her mind and her body will follow. Make a sistah feel secure and she’ll cook your dinner and clean your house. Make a sistah feel loved and she’ll romance you. Make a sistah feel appreciated and she’ll support your dreams.

Many men have complained that black women are too independent. Most black women are independent by necessity, not by choice. Given the opportunity to stay at home, most women would. Not because she’s lazy. Absolutely not. It’s just nice to have options. Having a man who can provide and pay the bills, that’s a turn on.

Again, I ask…what does it take to love a black woman? A man who is strong without being controlling. Loving without being mushy. Communicative without nagging. Mature but not boring. Intelligent but not corny. Humorous and not silly. Ambitious and determined. A hard worker and still a family man. Faithful. Honest. Trustworthy. Must not be abusive…verbally, physically, mentally or spiritually. No addictions. No psychotic or stalker tendencies. Generous. Romantic. Most importantly…straight.

Loving a black woman is simple. Treat her with respect. Listen without trying to solve her problems. Be strong when she is weak. Don’t lie or cheat. And never, ever, sit back and watch her suffer.

Writing Tip #1

2007-02-19T21:06:00.000-05:00

Recently, I've been receiving manuscripts to edit from aspiring writers. Although the manuscripts are from different writers with different storylines, the areas for improvement are similar. Initially, I found myself practically re-writing the material trying to fill in the gaps. The first manuscript that I edited took eight solid hours on just the first chapter. By the time I finished, I had added several pages and felt as though I was re-writing the novel. Then I stopped myself and stepped back from the manuscript. Rather than redo another writer's work, I decided to take off my writer's hat and become an editor. That's when I realized that the role of a writer is clearly different than an editor's role. As a writer, I wanted to write. As an editor, I needed to edit. That's it. Leave the writing to the writer.

For aspiring writers, I recommend showing rather than telling. As tempting as it may be to throw in a bunch of narratives to explain particular actions or events, it's far more compelling to show the reader. Allow the story to unfold. One of my favorites is progressing the story through dialogue. It gives you insight into the character without making it seem like an afterthought. If dialogue doesn't move the story along, it needs to be changed or omitted. Another thing, conversations between the characters should flow naturally. Dialogue shouldn't seem forced or disjointed. Last, give your characters distinct voices. They shouldn't all "sound" the same. Give each character their own personality and allow it to come to "life" when they speak.

eTour

2007-01-31T23:47:00.000-05:00

Check this out...I'm going on eTour from February 10-March 10, 2007. It should be a lot of fun. Please visit www.margueritepress.com/eTour.html to find out where I'll be. Thanks.

Author Interviews

2007-01-27T23:06:00.000-05:00

Exciting news! We will now feature guest authors on www.nevaehpublishing.com under the Author Listings tab. We have authors from different walks in their literary careers, and all of them have valuable information to share. Due to the overwhelming support we've received from authors, we will post the author interviews as they are completed.

If you're an aspiring writer, please be sure to "tune in" to www.nevaehpublishing.com. Best-selling authors and up and coming writers will be providing us with insider information and advice. You don't want to miss it. Be sure to post your feedback, questions or concerns on the forum. The featured authors will be happy to respond to your comments. We look forward to hearing from you.

Contest

2007-01-26T14:34:00.000-05:00

I don't usually do contests, but I'm in such a good mood that I feel like giving something back to my readers. I appreciate everyone who has read my book, Only True Love Waits, and taken the time to give me feedback. I've even received emails from people as far away as Germany and the Netherlands raving about Only True Love Waits. Wow!

Here goes...the contest will be held from now until February 2, 2007. The first five readers to order copies of Only True Love Waits from Amazon and forward a copy of the receipt to dwanabrams1@aol.com, will receive a FREE, signed copy of The Midnight Clear.

This offer is too good to miss. Two great books for the price of one! Even if you already have a copy of Only True Love Waits and/or The Midnight Clear, you can still participate. Everyone knows that books make terrific gifts. Just ask my hairstylist who purchased copies for herself and her two daughters.

Thanks in advance for your support and participation. Enjoy!

Book Signing

2007-01-24T12:56:00.000-05:00

I recently had a book signing at Border's at Stonecrest Mall. It was a success. I sold out of books. I was so happy.

As a writer, I can tell you that not all book signings are successful or justify the time it takes to prepare. I'd have to say today's signing was the best I've had to date. The staff was professional and courteous. My table was nicely prepared, and my books were ordered in advance.

Since I've shared the good, let me tell you about the bad. I had a signing where I traveled to North Carolina and stayed at a hotel. When I arrived at the Black owned bookstore, I was so disappointed. The owners acted as if they didn't even know I was coming. I had to wait nearly an hour before they set up a card table. It was obvious they hadn't prepared for or advertised my arrival at all. On top of that, they only catered to Urban Street Lit. I felt totally out of place. To add insult to injury, the owner was hustling his upcoming release by handing out postcards to all the customers and passersby. He was too busy flirting with every lady that walked by than to be concerned about whether my book was selling. It was as if I wasn't even there. Truth be told, that was probably the worst experience. I pray it was, because I wouldn't want to go through that, again.

To my fellow authors, I'd love to hear your best and worst book signing experiences.

Favor Part I Synopsis from The Midnight Clear

2007-01-22T15:31:00.000-05:00

"Favor"

Part I

The Blind Leading the Blind

Every time I converse with my sister, Cheyenne, I end up getting upset or feeling like beating her down.

"Cheyenne," I yelled into the receiver, "tell me now."

"Sister," she whined in a nasally tone. "I'll be there in a little while. I'll tell you when I see you. K. Bye."

We hung up. I closed my eyes and prayed that everything was all right. Knowing my sister it could be anything. It's the week of Christmas and Cheyenne is driving from Valdosta to Alpharetta, Georgia to spend the holiday with me. This is the first holiday we're actually spending in the house since our parents died. In previous years we'd go visit relatives.

Cheyenne's a freshman at Valdosta State University. I'm proud of her for going to college because it was no easy feat getting her there. In high school she was notorious for skipping classes. It was favor from God that allowed her to graduate. I'd never seen someone miss as much school as my sister and still graduate with honors. That's favor - it's not fair.

Our parents died when Cheyenne was ten and I was twenty-two. Fortunately I had just completed my senior year of college at Auburn State University when I became her legal guardian. With my portion of the money I inherited from my parents' life insurance policies, I was able to start my own catering company, Eat Your Heart Out.

I tried to raise my sister the way I thought my parents would want. We went to church every Sunday and were active members. I prayed and taught Cheyenne how to pray, too. I went to PTA meetings, checked my sister's homework, helped her with science projects and made unexpected visits to her school. I did everything I could to let Cheyenne know that I loved her.

When she went through puberty I didn't think I was going to survive. She was moody. Got on my nerves. I couldn't figure out whether she was thirteen or thirty from one day to the next. It was hard for me to maintain a romantic relationship because I was too busy raising a child. Most of the men my age weren't interested in taking on that added responsibility. Thinking back that was probably for the best. At that time I didn't need the distraction of being in a committed relationship anyway. I was dealing with my parents' death, raising Cheyenne and starting a company. When I was emotionally and spiritually ready for a relationship, Greg came into my life.

. . .

Greg and I met at the Corner Café in Buckhead during lunchtime. We struck up casual conversation while waiting to be seated separately. He told me that he sold insurance and was meeting a client. I told him I was dining alone. He said something about a beautiful woman should never have to eat alone. I quickly let him know that it was by choice. I happened to be getting my Range Rover serviced across the street at Hennessey and was simply passing the time. We exchanged business cards before being seated at different tables. Before he left the restaurant, he stopped by my table and spoke again. Flashed me a news anchor smile. He seemed nice.

When it was time for me to leave the waitress informed me that Greg had already paid my tab. That made me smile. Not only was he good-looking but considerate too. He earned major cool points with me that day. And of course I had to call him to thank him.

When I phoned him he seemed genuinely glad to hear from me. I deliberately kept the conversation brief. Didn't want to seem desperate. Let him know that I appreciated the gesture. Before I could get off the phone he asked me if I was seeing anyone. I told him "No." Then he made a point to tell me he wasn't involved with anyone either and asked me on a date. I accepted and we've been together ever since.

. . .

I went into the modern kitchen with stainless steel appliances to put the finishing touches on Cheyenne's welcome home dinner. I must admit that I put my foot all up in it! Baked chicken so tender it'll melt in your mouth. Pots of collards, sweet potato soufflé and garlic mashed potatoes covered the eyes of the stove. Freshly baked yeast rolls coated with warm butter and cornbread dressing occupied the oven. The food smelled so good I wanted to throw down right then but I knew I had to wait. So, I went upstairs and took a shower. Slipped into a chocolate colored shirt and matching lace skirt. Let my shoulder length hair hang down.

I went back into the kitchen and put dirty dishes in the dishwasher and started a load. Wiped down the marble counter tops because I can't stand a dirty kitchen. My mother used to clean up the kitchen as she cooked. She taught me that. She also taught me how to cook. As a child, I would watch my mother as she prepared our meals. Pleasant smells always emanated from our kitchen. My family loved her cooking. Sometimes when I'm throwing down in the kitchen, I can feel my mother's presence. We were so close. We loved exchanging recipes and trying new things. Even though it's been eight years since my parents died in a car accident, I still miss them. Especially during the holidays.

. . .

I was away at college. I had just completed finals and was excited about my upcoming graduation ceremony when I received a phone call from my mom's sister, Sylvia. She was a rambling mess, crying and screaming. "Your family, your mom and dad. They, they, they've been killed in a car accident." I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to faint. Surely, Aunt Sylvia hadn't just told me that my mommy and daddy were…gone. I could hear the anguish in Aunt Sylvia's voice and it cut me to the bone. She cried harder, sounded like she was hyperventilating when she said, "Drunk driver hit them. Come home right away."

I couldn't breathe. Felt like the walls were closing in on me. I dropped the phone, cried. My heart thumped so loudly that I could hear it. I wanted to die. Wondered why this happened. I felt as if I was trapped in a photograph - still and lifeless. Didn't think I could handle the severity of the situation. My life seemed about as clear as muddy water. I'd never be the same. I didn't think I'd ever smile, laugh or experience happiness ever again. How was I supposed to live without my parents?

. . .

I felt a tinge of sadness trying to creep up on me like a teenager sneaking into the house after curfew. I quickly thwarted it by focusing on more positive things. I realize that I have a lot to be thankful for. I'm healthy, woke up in my right state of mind, own a successful business and I have a great guy. I'm blessed. Reminding myself of the positive helps me not to linger on the negative.

My doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole and saw that it was Greg. He looked good in his crisp white shirt and jeans. His baldhead was freshly shaved and goatee neatly trimmed. He was carrying a bottle of sparkling apple cider in one hand and a Pointsettia in the other.

"Nice to see you," I greeted, kissed him on the cheek. I took the bottle and he followed me into the kitchen.

"What are you in here burning?" He said, placing the plant on the island.

"Got jokes." I laughed.

He rubbed his stomach, said, "I'm playing. It smells good. Almost as good as you look."

He pulled up a barstool and sat at the island.

"Thanks." I placed the sparkling drink in the refrigerator. "Cheyenne and Jonathan should be here soon." I said that like it was no big deal, but in reality I couldn't believe that I was about to break bread with Jonathan. He's the bane of my existence. I pray that Cheyenne wises up before she lets him ruin her life.

"Jonathan?" Greg crinkled his nose. "I thought you couldn't stand him."

"I can't but that doesn't stop Cheyenne from dating him."

"Did he ever get his GED?"

"No. He's been popping the same old tired game ever since Cheyenne's known him. And she keeps falling for it. When they were both juniors in high school and he dropped out, I told her he wasn't going back. She gave me some sob story about his mother abandoning him and he dropped out of school to support himself."

"Is he still selling drugs?"

"Yes. What can I say? She's got a thing for bad boys."

"She needs to be careful. I don't get a good feeling about this guy. You hear stories all the time about people getting killed because of the company they keep. A bullet doesn't have anybody's name on it. She's got a lot going for herself and could do whole lot better. I would hate to see her ruin her life because of him or anybody else for that matter."

"I know. But it's like my momma used to say, 'A hard head makes a soft behind.' All I can do is pray."

I started transferring food from copper pots to sterling silver serving dishes. My mom used to use the same expensive silver pieces for holidays and any other occasion she deemed special. Greg offered to help, so I let him set the table. By the time we finished, the doorbell rang. Perfect timing, I thought. I opened the door. Cheyenne and Jonathan greeted me. I offered them a warm smile and gave my sister a hug. I was glad to see her, regardless of how much she tested my resolve. Told them to come on in. I locked the door behind them and we went into the kitchen with Greg.
Greg acknowledged Cheyenne and Jonathan and gave Jonathan daps. In the year we had been dating, Greg had met Cheyenne twice before. During a going away party I threw for Cheyenne to celebrate her going off to college, Greg met Jonathan.

"Sister," Cheyenne said. She never calls me by my real name, Shania. "I have something to show you."

I sucked air through my teeth and rolled my eyes. What now? I wondered.

She turned her back towards me, exposing angel wings tattooed on her shoulder blade. I didn't say anything.

"Well, do you like it?" Cheyenne asked.

"It's all right," I said. I don't know why she bothered to ask me. She knew full well that I wouldn't approve of a tattoo. That's why she waited until after she had already gotten it to tell me about it. Then she showed it to Greg. He simply shook his head.

"And wait." Cheyenne slightly lifted up her halter style top to reveal a second tattoo - a cross and rosary on the small of her back.

This just keeps getting better and better, I thought. The devil is a lie. I'm not about to give in to this nonsense. I recited the 23rd Psalm in my mind. I silently said that prayer whenever I felt an anxiety attack coming on, like right now.

"Sister, do you like it?"

"It doesn't matter if I like it. I'm not the one who mutilated her body."

"Why you gotta be so melodramatic all the time?" She laughed.

I could tell by the tone of her voice that she was disappointed that I didn't approve of her body art.

I exhaled, said, "Lets eat before the food gets cold."

We went into the formal dining room. We held hands and closed our eyes as Greg blessed the food. Then we took our seats and each fixed a plate.

"So. Shania. How you been?" Jonathan said.

I hoped that my eyes didn't betray me because secretly I was throwing darts at Jonathan. I couldn't stand the way he talked all slow. Perhaps that's the only way his brain could keep up.

"I've been doing good."

Until now I hadn't really paid much attention to Jonathan. He looked as sloppy as he usually did – baggy sweat pants and an oversized white tee. However, he had something on the side of his neck. My eyes narrowed, trying to decipher the scribbling. Cheyenne. He had Cheyenne's name engraved on his neck.

"When did you get that?" I nodded my head in Jonathan's direction.

He placed his hand on his neck, said, "Oh, this?" He laughed, looked at Cheyenne. "Not that long ago. Maybe two, three weeks."

I looked at Cheyenne, said, "Why did you let him do that?"

"Sister, I told him not to, but he said he wanted to do it." She went on to explain that Jonathan said he loved her and would still want her name on him even if they broke up.

I felt disgusted. They were so young and so naïve. They were a perfect example of the blind leading the blind. Not wanting to say the wrong thing, I stuffed a forkful of collards in my mouth.

"Jonathan, what you been doing with yourself?" Greg said, biting into a piece of chicken.

"You know. Tryna stay outta trouble."

I wanted to reach across the table and shake him. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what Cheyenne saw in him. He had pimply skin and a chipped tooth in the front of his mouth. He had enough butter on his teeth to spread on every roll at the table. I had to wonder whether she rebelling against me.

"You plan on going back to school?" Greg said, sounding like a parent. He reminded me of my dad. The way he used to interrogate my boyfriends.

"Nah. I wanna get my GED."

"So why don't you?"

"I'm workin' on it. I gotta get a copy of my birth certificate from my mom. We ain't speaking right now, so it's hard."

This guy must think that everybody at this table has about as much common sense as God gave to a rock. Who was he trying to fool? I've met his mother, Candace, and spoken with her in-depth. She admitted to leaving her children for a while, but she came back. Candace said that Jonathan was trouble and warned me to get my sister away from him. She was the one who told me Jonathan was a drug dealer. According to Candace, she found his supply at her house and kicked him out. Having him living with her and her other children posed too much of a threat to the safety of their family. She refused to take him back in until he straightened up his act.

When I confronted my sister with Jonathan being a drug dealer, she tried to down play the whole thing. Insisted Candace was crazy. Not credible because she abandoned her family. I told her I believed Candace's story. Then Cheyenne flipped the script. Acted like Jonathan dealing drugs was justifiable since he had to fend for himself. I looked at her like she had lost her mind. Because along with his other siblings, their grandmother cared for them in their mother's absence. Told her to stop making excuses for Jonathan's bad behavior. He made a choice to sell drugs. She stopped talking. I could tell by the thoughtful look in her eyes that my words were getting to her. At least I gave her something to think about.

For the rest of dinner we talked about the weather and college life, mostly Greg's recollections. Afterwards, Cheyenne and I cleared the dishes from the table. Greg offered his assistance but I assured him Cheyenne and I could handle it ourselves. So he joined Jonathan in the family room, where the Christmas tree was located. This was the first tree I had ever purchased, and Greg helped me put it up. It touched the ceiling. The tree itself was white and the decorations were primarily gold with red and green accents.

"How do you think you did this semester?" I asked Cheyenne as I scraped leftovers into plastic containers.

"I don't know."

I could tell she was lying by the influx in her voice. "What do you mean 'I don't know'? Haven't you been going to school?"

She exhaled and closed her eyes. Acted like I was getting on her nerves.
She opened her eyes, said, "Sister, I don't want to talk about this right now." She unloaded dishes from the dishwasher, making room for the new batch, and put them in the cabinet.

Silently, I fumed. I wanted to go off but I knew that wouldn't accomplish anything - at least not anything positive. Besides, we had company and I didn't want to show out in front of them. So I continued to put up the food.

Having finished our domestic chores, Cheyenne went into the family room and I put on a pot of coffee. A few minutes later, I grabbed a deck of Uno cards from the island drawer and joined the rest of them while the coffee brewed. They were as excited as school children at recess when I suggested we play. Greg dealt the first hand and I won. We were having such a good time laughing and trash talking that I temporarily forgot about my issues with Cheyenne.

I asked, "Anyone want some coffee?"

Greg and Cheyenne said, "Yes."

We momentarily interrupted the game as Greg and I went into the kitchen. I grabbed three cups and saucers from the cabinet and filled them up. Since the three of us liked our coffee the same way, I spruced up the hot liquid with hazelnut creamer and a couple of cubes of sugar that were housed in a small crystal bowl.

Smiling, Greg said, "I'm really having a good time."

"Me too."

Greg lifted the corners of two saucers that were balancing cups on top of them and went back into the family room. He sat both drinks on the glass table. I followed, carrying my cup.

We played another round of Uno. This time Cheyenne won. We finished our coffee and Cheyenne announced, "I'm going to drop Jonathan off at his grandmother's house. Be right back."

I nodded, waved good-bye.

Greg stood up, shook Jonathan's hand and said, "Take it easy."

Jonathan replied, "You too."

As soon as I heard the door close, I exhaled.

"You did good," Greg said, patting my hand.

I smiled.

He slid closer to me on the couch and looked me in the eyes. "Shania, there's something I've been wanting to say." He took a deep breath and released it. He seemed serious. "I was trying to wait until Christmas but I can't."

My heart raced and I gave him an incredulous look. He stood up and reached inside his right pant pocket. He wriggled his fingers around before pulling out his hand. I couldn't see what he was holding.

With a balled fist he knelt down on one knee. I swallowed hard, feeling tears well up in my eyes. He looked into my watery eyes, grabbed my hand again, and said, "I love you. You mean the world to me."

I noticed that his eyes were misty and his lower lip quivered. Totally surprised me. I was usually the one crying to him about my sister. I had never seen him cry. Sweet. Made my tears flow.

"Shania," he continued, "would you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

I wiped his tears with my thumb. He seemed so sincere. Vulnerable. I didn't think it was possible but I loved him even more. I looked down and noticed a sparkling two-carat, pear shaped diamond ring staring at me. Looking back at Greg, I swallowed hard and said, "Yes. I'll marry you."
He slipped the ring on my left ring finger and stood up. I stood up too, and we hugged. This was truly one of the happiest days of my life. I say one of the happiest simply because I expect to have many, many more wonderful days to come.

Only True Love Waits Synopsis

2007-01-22T14:57:00.000-05:00

ONE - It's Over

Atlanta, Georgia

"You have testicular cancer," the doctor told Xavier Roberts.

"W-what?"

"I'm sorry, but..."

"No! Run the test again," Xavier interjected, silently praying that he hadn't heard what he just thought he had.

Xavier's six-foot-two frame slumped over as tears welled in his eyes.

"I understand how you feel."

"No, doctor, you don't understand how I feel," he snarled.

Xavier felt as if the air was being sucked from the room and right out of his lungs. Oblivious to the suffocating effects, the doctor handed him some informational pamphlets from his clipboard.

"I don't want any damn pamphlets! I want a cure."

Xavier threw the papers on the ground and sobbed in his hands. The doctor hesitated to offer any gesture of comfort, as he knew Xavier would shrug him off.

"Why me?" Xavier demanded. "Why now? This should be the happiest time of my life. I'm twenty-five years old, engaged to be married to an incredible woman, and, on top of everything, I just signed a record deal."

Seizing the brief moment of silence during Xavier's lament, Dr. Cherry offered a wan smile, trying to console him.

"How serious is it? How long do I have to live?"

Looking Xavier in the eyes, the doctor said, "This is the most common form of cancer in men between the ages of 20-35. The good news is that we caught it early and it's curable."

Xavier felt as if his mind were on overload. In the cascade of medical terms, the only thing he heard was the big C - Cancer - the same disease that killed his grandfather.

"We need to schedule you for an orchiectomy right away."

Looking at the doctor as if he were speaking French Xavier said, "A what?"

"A radical inguinal orchiectomy is the surgical removal of the testicle and spermatic cord through an endoscopic incision."

"What about kids? Will I still be able to have them?"

"In the majority of cases, orchiectomy doesn't result in long-term sexual side effects or infertility. As long as you have one healthy testicle, you shouldn't notice any negative changes in your quality of life."

"How long is the recovery?"

"The procedure can be done as an outpatient procedure or with a short hospital stay. You can usually resume regular activities within 1 to 2 weeks, and a full recovery can be expected within 2 to 4 weeks."

Xavier did not want to hear anymore. He briskly walked out feeling shocked, ignoring Dr. Cherry as he yelled behind him. He sat in his car for an hour without leaving the parking lot, all the while crying and wondering what he was going to do. He was in a daze until his cell phone rang. He cleared his throat before answering. It was his fiancee, Summer Love. She wanted to see him. He said a prayer and drove off.

Xavier sat in front of Summer's two-story brick house for nearly ten minutes trying to muster the courage to go inside. Finally, he knocked twice to let her know he was there and walked in. She seemed happy to see him and kissed him on the lips. Summer -a few months younger than Xavier, was five-foot-six and curvaceous.

"Are you all right?" she probed.

He did not answer. He went into the living room and she followed. Summer could tell Xavier was uneasy even before he sat down beside her on the dark chocolate colored couch - he was jittery and his smile disappeared almost instantly. He stared at a cobweb breezily dancing in the corner for a moment.

"I have something to tell you, and it's not easy for me," he said, holding her hand.

"You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry." He felt like crying again. No, screaming. His emotions were a chaotic jumble of nerves and agony.

She sat quietly.

"I can't marry you," he continued.

"What do you mean you can't marry me?" She snatched her hand away.

"Please."

"Please?" she repeated incredulously.

"Calm down."

"I'm calm, now what?"

He lowered his head in frustration.

She gripped his chin with her thumb and first finger, tilted his head towards her and said, "Why are you doing this?"

"You deserve better." Unable to look her in the eyes, he turned his head away, forcing her hand to release its grasp.

"Are you seeing someone else?" Her voice trembled as she tried to be strong and hold back the tears. Her mother always told her to never let a man see you cry. Especially if he's not your husband.

"No, no."

"I thought you loved me."

"I do love you, more than anything else in this world."

He hugged her, and she could feel his heart racing.

"What's wrong?"

"I know that you deserve some answers, but I can't deal with this right now. Trust me, it's for the best."

She looked into Xavier's emerald green eyes, hoping that the expression "the eyes are the windows to the soul" was true, because she needed answers. Xavier's dazzling green eyes that usually sparkled, and made her fall in love with him time and time again seemed devoid of any happiness. In addition to the painful sadness they revealed, they were horribly bloodshot. She could see that he was upset.

"Here." She took off her nearly two-carat diamond and platinum engagement ring and handed it to him.

Breaking eye contact with her, he looked down at the floor and said, "You can keep the ring."

Her jaw dropped. That's it? she thought. She felt angry. Her eyes narrowed, and giving him a scathing look, she hissed, "Why won't you talk to me? Something is wrong! I can feel it."

He stood up, turned his back to her, and paused as if he had something else to say. She waited, hoping he would turn around and tell her he didn't mean it.

When he didn't say anything she said, "What am I supposed to tell my family?"

At a loss, he raised his hands in the air and sighed. "I don't know."

Then he dropped his head and headed toward the door.

"Wait! Did I do something?"

"No. You didn't do anything. I never meant to hurt you."

She was tempted to beg him to stay, but she remembered hearing Oprah talk about the man she pleaded with God to bring back, and in the end she thanked God for letting him go. Although she doubted that she would ever be thankful for losing Xavier, she didn't stop him from leaving.

She locked the door behind him and allowed the tears that had been hovering around the borders of her eyes to escape. She felt hurt, betrayed and angry. So many questions resonated in her mind, and she wondered if he ever loved her at all. How could he be so insensitive? she wondered. Why did he tell her that the wedding was off the day before the grand opening of her day spa? Did he have such little regard for her that he didn't care about ruining her celebration? Thinking about his inconsideration made her more furious. She had been very vocal about her enthusiasm for starting her own company. Many nights she stayed up late sharing her business goals and long term plans with him. He knew better than anyone how excited she was about this venture.

She tried hard to silence the questions that plagued her mind as exasperation engulfed her. The insanity of it all! she fumed. She hated having more questions than answers. It made her feel vulnerable, which was something she tried not to do.

She wiped away her tears and continued to try and quell the questions that gnawed at her psyche. Xavier's behavior today was totally inconsistent with the man she thought she knew and loved. Then she thought about the first time they met. Both were freshmen at Clark Atlanta University. They had an English class together and he was such a clown always cracking jokes and trying to make her laugh.

To her, he was the most handsome man she had ever met. She had never seen eyes as green as his. His eyes had the same effect on her that Kryptonite must have had on Superman. Coupled with his smooth bronze colored skin, high cheekbones, full lips, and white, even teeth, he exceeded her wildest dreams.

His sense of humor attracted her even more than his good looks. They swiftly became friends and were inseparable. Whenever they were out together and a woman disrespected her by flirting with him, Summer never had to say a word. He would straighten the woman out by letting her know that Summer was his woman, and disrespecting her was not an option.

One of the many things she really liked about Xavier was his street credibility. He was from Detroit and had never been stabbed or shot. When they went out, she felt safe and shielded from any peril that was common in big cities. She enjoyed talking to him because he was easy to talk to. She felt as though she could tell him anything, and he seemed interested in whatever she had to say.

When she confided in him that she was a virgin and planned to stay that way until she got married, he ended up giving her a hug and kissing her on the forehead. Then he thanked the Lord for her. His thoughtfulness at that moment convinced her that he was the man for her.

"Snap out of it," she said aloud. She forced herself to stop thinking about Xavier because she was making herself more depressed. Even though she felt like crawling into bed and never getting out, she knew that she couldn't do that. She needed a pep talk, and her best friend, Nina Dexter, was just the person to do it.

Nina had been Summer's best friend ever since the fifth grade when Summer's family moved into the same subdivision where Nina lived in Stone Mountain. They met when Summer's mom was in the kitchen and saw Nina walking by. She thought about the first time they met.

"Summer, come here," her mom called to her. "There's a cute little girl out there who I think you should meet."

Summer was nervous and didn't want to do it.

"Don't be shy. Just go up to her and ask her if she wants to be your friend," her mom continued.

With her mother spying through the window, Summer skipped to catch up with the brown skinned, round face little girl wearing two pigtails and a plaid dress. Without making eye contact she said, "Do you want to be my friend?"

At the time it never occurred to Summer that Nina could've said no. Even though Nina responded favorably, that still does not stop her from occasionally poking fun at Summer about the proposal of friendship.

She called Nina who answered on the second ring sounding bubbly and upbeat. "The wedding's off."

"What? What happened?"

Summer could not even get the words out without bursting into tears.

"I'm on my way," Nina assured her before hanging up the phone.

Nina lived in Conyers, which was a relatively short commute from Summer's house in Lithonia. Less than thirty minutes later, she was knocking on Summer's door with a bag filled with Butter Pecan ice cream and a box of Kleenex. Summer looked at her five-foot-two, twenty pounds overweight friend through puffy eyes. Nina seemed to carry most of her extra pounds in her butt. Summer put the ice cream in the freezer, and carried the box of Kleenex into the living room where she cried and recapped her conversation with Xavier.

"If you ask me, Xavier's a punk and a coward," Nina said. "What's his number? I'm about to call him!"

"Don't do that. It won't do any good."

"Somebody needs to talk some sense into that Negro."

Summer flopped on the sofa simply broken.

"Do you want me to have Jeff talk to him?"

Jeff, Nina's husband, was somewhat of a hothead. Although Summer was highly upset with Xavier, she didn't want to risk an altercation between the two of them.

"No," she said.

"What about all the money you've spent on this wedding, is he going to pay you back?"

"No, I'm not going to ask him to."

"That's crazy. Don't let him off the hook that easy."

"If he doesn't want to be with me, then I'm not going to be vindictive."

"That's so you, but if it were me, I wouldn't let it go that easy."

Unable to take anymore of Nina's lecturing, Summer went into the kitchen and fixed them each a bowl of ice cream. Knowing the severity of the situation, she ignored the dainty, and appropriate, dessert bowls and took out the mega-sized ones.

"I'm sorry this happened. I know how much Xavier means to you."

Summer nodded in agreement and ate a spoonful of ice cream.

"This is one time that I wish I were a guy," Nina said, "because I'd kick his ass myself."

"I appreciate that." Summer giggled.

On the surface, she could make light of the threat, but deep inside the very core of her person, tiny bits of her heart kept being chipped away.

"Do you want me to spend the night?"

"No, you've only been married six months. I don't want to come between you and your husband."

Nina wrapped her arm around Summer's shoulders. "You're my girl, and I knew you long before I ever had a man. You know that I love Jeff to death, but true girlfriends are hard to find. If you want me to stay, just say the word."

Summer offered a faint smile and again declined the offer.

"On a more positive note, let's talk about the opening of Spa Nevaeh tomorrow," Nina suggested.

Summer listened attentively as Nina went on and on about the outfit she was going to wear, the prominent people who were expected to be in attendance, and the media coverage that was guaranteed to make television, radio and the local papers.

Summer was glad that she had chosen Nina to be her PR Director. That way Nina could do most of the talking. Because based on how Summer was feeling at that moment, she did not think she could handle it herself.

In a tiny spot below her shattered soul, Summer was also excited; she had to admit, because this was her dream come true. While in college she majored in Marketing, and during one of her core courses, she did a marketing analysis for a day spa in Atlanta. Her professor was so impressed with her findings and business plan that he suggested she implement the plan. She agreed and shared her ideas with her father, a successful real estate developer and investor, regarding her business.

Nina interrupted Summer and said, "I just remembered that Jeff and I are supposed to go out to dinner tonight. Let me call him and tell him I can't make it." She grabbed her cell phone.

Before she could flip the phone open, Summer said, "No, but I do appreciate your willingness to cancel your plans for me. I want you to go and have a good time. No sense in both of us sitting around being miserable. Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it. You're the closest thing I have to a sister. I love you and I don't want you moping around acting all depressed."

Summer forced a smile and said, "I love you, too. Honestly, I'll be fine. I'm starting to feel better already."

Nina kissed her on the cheek and said, "Liar. You don't have to put on a brave face for me."

"I know. I'll call you if I feel like slitting my wrists or popping pills."

"Don't joke about stuff like that, because I'd have to take you to the Pet Sematary."

They both laughed, because Pet Sematary was one of their favorite horror movies. Summer walked Nina to the door. They hugged and Nina said, "Everything's going to be all right." Summer closed the door behind her and asked of no one, "Can you assure me of that?"

I Was on T.V.

2007-01-22T14:51:00.000-05:00

In October 2006, as a supporter of Johnnie's
House, "Feed the Hungry" campaign, I recorded a
public service announcement, which aired on WATC
TV57. It was a wonderful opportunity.

In November 2006, I was interviewed on Atlanta Live
on WATC TV57 to discuss my books, Only True Love
Waits, and Favor (short story appearing in The
Midnight Clear: Stories of Love, Hope and Inspiration
anthology). It was my first television interview. Talk
about nervous!

Only True Love Waits is available at online
booksellers and in-stores. You can also check out a copy at DeKalb County libraries.

The Midnight Clear: Stories of Love, Hope and
Inspiration anthology is a collection of short stories
by some of today's most acclaimed and up and
coming authors of Christian fiction. Set during the
Christmas holiday, each of these stories offer themes
of love, hope and inspiration. The Midnight Clear will
offer a buffet of flavors to satisfy the taste buds of
hungry readers.

Whether you are looking for fiction that tugs on
the tear ducts, tickles the funny bone, raises the
eyebrows or warms the heart, it can all be found in
The Midnight Clear.

I Got a Two-Book Deal

2007-01-22T14:47:00.000-05:00

What's new? It took approximately six months to
complete my manuscript, Divorcing the Devil.
My publicist, Terrance Wooten, and writer-friend,
Kendra Norman Bellamy, both encouraged me to
submit the manuscript to Urban Christian for
consideration.

Halfway through the manuscript completion, I sent
the first four chapters to Urban Christian. The usual
response time is about two to three months. I figured
that was more than enough time for me to complete
it. Well, to my surprise, the editor responded in three
weeks. I wasn't finished. In fact, I had been on
vacation for a week, sick for another week, and
encountered a problem with my laptop. A month
later, I submitted the finish product. One week later,
I received a phone call from the executive editor
offering me a two-book deal. I was so excited! That
was a prayer answered. Time to celebrate!
Divorcing the Devil will be released in April
2008.