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A Supernatural Love pt. 1
Many thanks to all the readers of my books. I’ll have new offerings out shortly, like a novella featuring the sister-witches of Long Ago and Far Away:
Meet Lilith, the oldest and strongest of the three. Her heart belows to the vampire Yuri:
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We Three Kings
In between working my regular nine to five and fitting in some writing, I’ve created a few promos for some books that have already been released, and others that will soon be on sale:
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So Thankful
This is just a post giving thanks and also one of reflection.
I’m so thankful that I got to spend time with my mom before she passed, and also how our family came together. I realize this is the next page in the chapter of life, where elder care and also helping those I love with disabilities will need more focus. I pray that I’m able to do even half of what my mom did.
Some of the spin-offs from the RUSH series are turning out to be novellas, while others have been moved up for ebook release. It all started with Somali Bantu refugee Aaliyah and the outlaw biker Aiden:
But why should guys have all the fun?
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SEXploration
A virgin is introduced to the sensual bondage art of Shibari and Kinbaku-bi.
EXCERPT:
“Are you gonna eat that?” With her fork aimed at the last egg roll on his plate, Nyesha waited for an answer. Takeshi pushed his plate in her direction while she loudly slurped on a Ramen noodle until it disappeared between her lips. Like most places in Tokyo the restaurant was full. Excited chatter from the other patrons bombarded their table, though neither Nyesha or Takeshi had said much once their meals arrived. He leaned back in his chair, content to watch Nyesha get her fill. Even under the harsh florescent light her brown skin was pure silk in its hue and smoothness. Whenever she’d stare back at him, Takeshi realized he could get lost in the depths of her luminous dark eyes. She gave him a grimace, guessing how she must look, like she was vacuuming food down. “Sorry. Guess I was hungrier than I thought.”
“It’s fine. Better to not let good food go to waste.”
She could agree with that. After a very unladylike burp, Nyesha went on a laughing fit. “Oh shit. You must think I’m a pig, and I don’t blame you.”
His brow went up at her use of profanity, but Nyesha’s smile was endearing enough to put Takeshi at ease. “Would you like to order anything else, in case you get hungry later?”
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Our Bodies, Our Stories and Black Female Veterans
Today is Veterans Day.
WAC or WAAC stands for Women’s Auxiliary Army Corps:
Their stories deserve to be recognized and to be told.
To learn more about the contributions of African American women during times of war:
Link: http://www.buffalosoldiersresearchmuseum.org/research/women.htm
For more photos of the past:
Link: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/61783826109434454/
Our Bodies, Our Stories . . .
As I look at all the men in power who’ve been accused of sexual assault, I’m reminded of what my foremothers went through during and after segregation. Lets not forget how women of color were treated (and ignored) when they opened up about their trauma. Today, many women are united in solidarity to combat and speak out against unwanted sexual advances and sexual assault (#MeToo). But it wasn’t always so. The voice of black women were rarely believed. It may surprise readers to know Rosa Parks had to fight off an attempted assault while working as a domestic. Read a partial account from The Washington Post:
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Lee and Low New Visions Award for Authors of Color
The deadline is quickly approaching for Lee and Low’s New Visions Award for Authors of Color
Link: https://www.leeandlow.com/writers-illustrators/new-visions-award
- The contest is open to writers of color who are residents of the United States, 18 years of age or older at the time of entry, and who have not previously had a middle grade or young adult novel published.
- Writers who have published work in other venues such as children’s magazines or picture books, or adult fiction or nonfiction, are eligible. Only unagented manuscripts will be accepted.
- Work that has been published in its entirety in any format (including online and self publishing as well as other countries) is not eligible.
- Manuscripts previously submitted for this award or to TU BOOKS will not be considered.
Entrees are currently being accepted online. The deadline is midnight, October 31st.
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Me, myself and MOM
Dear readers,
You’ll never know how badly I wish this story had a happy ending. As a writer, I get the ability to craft a tale that can have a HEA or a HFN (happy for now). Not so in real life. You see, the cancer that ravaged my mom these past few years has finally silenced her bright light.
I wouldn’t be where I am today without her, or my dad. She was the rock of the family, the woman who schooled me on what life was like during segregation. She not only told it like it was, but she told it like it is.
I don’t mind sharing my stories, but I’m pretty guarded about my private life. Still, I take comfort in the knowledge that her pain has ended. Rest in peace, Mom.
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Bisexual, Bipartisan and Black
Divided by politics . . . united by love.
The relationship between Congressman Brandon Jefferson Wingate and activist Kenya Paul, is, for lack of a better word, complicated. They’re two people from different worlds with clashing ideologies. Even the things they do have in common, like being the children of wealthy parents is cause for debate. **I had to change a few things about the story, since Hillary didn’t win 🙁 Sorry for the delay.**
Excerpt:
“Hey, how are you?” Brandon’s voice was friendly and upbeat.
Kenya’s reply was cold. “What do you want?”
“I-I thought we could get together.”
“No.”
“I miss you. I-”
Kenya hung up, turning her phone off in case he called back. As she walked up the stairway to get to her dorm room, girlish laughter and wall thuds greeted her ears. Mo and two other girls were coming down the hall, heading her way. Kenya put a practiced smile on her face. One girl draped a possessive arm over Mo’s shoulders before they all met.
Kenya spoke first. “Hey Mo.” Since she didn’t know the names of the other girls, she just said, “Hey.”