The Fishing Trip(Thrilller)
Beads on a String-America's Racially Intertwined Biographical History(Non-fiction)
The Women of the Hill(Women's fiction)
The Perfect Solution (Women's Fic./Suspense)
The Children's Corner(Pic. Books/YA)
D.N.A.-Nothing Would Ever be the Same
When Cloud's Touch
Tripping Prince Charming
If anyone is willing to read and review, I'm willing to do the same. I can give free code through Smashwords or give a PDF. Are there any Indie souls out there searching (as I am) for reviews for their books? So far I have garnered a few very good reviews, but can always use more. As I am sure you can. I am willing to give honest reviews for an exchange of the same. Read excerpts (from each book pictured) below and let's get it started. If you are willing to swap reviews, leave your response in the comments. Thanks.
Books by Ey Wade are found for the Apple Products: iTunes (http://bit.ly/EyinApple) and for Kindle (http://amzn.to/wade-inbooks)
( http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/writerswrite ), Smashwords , Sony, ( http://bit.ly/EyWade-sony) Kobo (http://bit.ly/EyWade-kobo ), and Nook (http://bit.ly/EyWade-BN ).
These are also places I am willing to post reviews. Other places included are Goodreads, Wade-Into Book reviews (my blog http://wade-intobookreviews.blogspot.com/). If you have a trailer for your book I will post it on my Video Blog site
Without further ado, let's get to it.
Carolyn Chambers Clark
"....This was beautifully written by Ey, mostly in flashbacks. Debney is a well-conceived character with spunk and intelligence, and despite the disinterest and lack of love from her mother, or maybe because of it, she is a warm and selfless character. Her closest friends, although diverse in character are likeable and their mixed ethnicity bonds them tightly. All the characters in this book were well-drawn, the story is nicely paced and the result is a delightful YA novel" Beeshon
DESCRIPTION: Debney Nichole Armstrong thought she knew everything about her family. She knew her dad worked hard at everything, except building a relationship with his family. She knew her younger brothers were typical little kids, and she knew without doubt, her mother cared nothing for her first born and only daughter. But what she hadn’t known was, DNA could ruin your life.
i. Sometimes Life Sucks
“My arms are tired, Durham. I’ve been rowing this boat for the past twenty minutes. My fingers are getting blisters. And if it weren’t so dark you would see I have a huge splinter in my palm. Why is it you always make me do the rowing on these trips?”
“Stop whining, Penny. Do you want to do my job? Do you think it’s easy to do what I do? Do you think it doesn’t tire me to crack someone’s neck with my bare hands?”
“I’m sure it does. I don’t know how you do it. Just hearing the sound of a person’s bones breaking makes me shudder and gag. Knowing I am hearing them release their last breath makes me wanna vomit.”
“That’s how I felt at first, but now I just want to get the job over and collect my pay. You can stop rowing we’re almost there. Pull the oars in and be careful with the poles. I don’t want you to hit this fool on the head.”
“What difference would it make? He is dead right?”
“Yeah, but I want no excess marks on the body or blood in the boat. Give me that rope from behind your back so I can tie this tarp around his body.”
Penny reached behind her and felt for the presence of the rope. Her fingers sliding on the damp wood encountered what she thought was rope, the slimy patches of surface causing doubt and illusions of Water Moccasins to cross her mind. Pumping her bravery she yanked it up, held it far away from her body, and pushed it towards Durham. The heavy weight and wiggle of the object not counteracting her thoughts of clearing the fear from her mind, for all she knew what she held gingerly between her fists was really a snake.
“Here it is, Durham. Stretch out your hand its right in front of you. Damn it’s dark. I can barely see your hands.”
“You tryin’ to say I’m too black to see in the night?”
“No. I know those are gloves you have on. I’m just saying it’s too dark out here tonight. I don’t even know how you know what’s really going on around you. We’ve been on the water three times this week and each time you knew exactly where to stop and it has been dark as all hell.”
“Experience pays off. I’m a creature of habit.”
“Sometimes that’s not a good thing, Durham. It could be your downfall.”
“It will never be mine. Cover your face there’s going to be a big nasty splash when this sloppy fat bastard hits the water.”
As the water rushed into the air and the odor of rot and death seeped in through her nose and flowed quickly and deeply to the pit of her empty stomach, she gagged. The small indention behind her ears began to burn, bile rose to her throat and she fought hard not to release the contents of her stomach in retaliation.
“Oh hell….” Retching fruitlessly, Penny pulled the neckline of her shirt to cover her mouth and nose. “You weren’t kidding. That….damn….water….stinks.” Her retching sounds causing a pause between each of the four words. “How many bodies have you fed to the fishes?”
“Too many to count and if I tell you….well you know the old saying. Hand me the oars. I’ll row back.”
Penny gripping the edge of the rocking boat tightly looked around at her surroundings. It was nightmarish dark. No stars, eerie clouds moved stealthy across the sky and a sliver of moonlight peered through the thick foliage of the trees surrounding the spot where the body had disappeared. It was damned spooky. If any kind of water monster wanted to jump up and grab them and pull them into the deep blackness, this would be the perfect spot. They would disappear and no one would have any idea where to search for them. She shivered in the cool darkness; they were as much a part of the shadows as death was a part of the waters.
“Where do you think the bodies go, Durham?” She whispered just in case one of those monsters from her childhood nightmares was more than a figment of her imagination. “I’ve never heard of anyone talking about bodies resurfacing so they must fall pretty deep or something eats them.”
Durham laughed at the fear showing in the expanse of the white in her eyes. She held her arms crossed tight across her stomach, the rocking of her body having nothing to do with the movement of the water.
“You’re not afraid of the dark are you Penny?”
“Hell fuckin’ yeah. Petrified pissless and I’m not ashamed to say it, either.”
Durham chuckled between the strokes of the oar.
“Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard anyone say that. You can stop being afraid. Nothing is going to stick its long slimy arm out of the water and yank you out the boat.”
“That’s not funny at all Durham.” She looked around and shivered even more. “Now that you’ve read my mind I’m really scared. It makes me wonder if you’ve ever seen anything creepy out here.”
“Well, if you must know, sometimes when I’m sitting on the porch of that little cabin up there, I look across the water and think I see a specter of a woman or a girl. I’m not sure which it is.”
“Really?” She didn’t know whether to be excited of afraid. “Where exactly does she be when you see her?”
“I’m kidding Penny, geeze. I’m probably just seeing the smoke from the cigar I smoke. In a couple of minutes we’ll be close to the shore. And don’t worry about any of those bodies coming up because I know for a fact they fall into a huge cavern and just keep on going. The cavern has a vacuum like suction, things go down and nothing comes up. That’s why I always make you stop rowing at the large cluster of branches jutting out at the curve back there. The current is strong and I don’t want to get sucked in. If there were any stars in the sky I would be able to show you where the safety rope was tied. It’s there in case we ever fall into the water. Remind me to bring a flashlight the next time we come out so I can show you. Talk about a scary adventure falling in the lake and catching the ends of that slimy rope at just the right moment, exhilarating. ”
“You get a thrill from danger, don’t you?”
“Yup, I get more of a thrill from getting paid big bucks for dropping sloppy fat bastards in a watery hole.”
“I think the real thrill for you comes from getting rid of perverts. These guys deserve everything they get.”
“You know it. This last one wiggled his way into the life and home of a single mom with three little kids. Poor woman really thought he loved her and all he wanted was to get into her bank account and to rape her children.”
“Sorry dead bastard. I hope he rots in hell.”
“You know I think it’s a good thing to get child molesters off the street…hell out of the world, but how are you so sure you’re are getting the right people? What if you make a mistake and take the wrong person on a trip?”
“I don’t worry about it.”
“I’m kidding. Duck your head and watch the branches. I do my research every time I get a request for a fishing trip. I check the person and their habits out thoroughly. Almost every one of these guys uses the internet for child pornography. I find what they think are a commonality and build from there. I never take a trip if it seems like the guy is innocent.”
“But who makes the call…uhm request? How do you know they are being honest? What if a person is being set up?”
“I do a thorough search on both sides and I've never made a mistake. Why are you asking me these questions, Penny? Are you starting to be afraid of the water?”
“I guess because you use me as bait. We've been on the water three times this week. I’ve had to sit around and let what I know to be fat slimy child raping pigs, paw me relentlessly and spit lies and profanity in my ear because they think I am an innocent teenager. I sit in a tiny rowboat, in the cold dark of night as you take them through their make-shift trial, sentence, and execution. Then I have to row a constantly rocking boat in the dark with a dead body at my feet. Taking all of these trips is making me believe I’m beginning to get immune to the act of death.”
“I hate to say it, but you will never get truly immune. It’ll probably become easier to accept the act, but believe me it will stay with you. The last girl to be my bait is dead now. She killed herself.”
“Well, I’m not gonna kill myself. How did you get into this business anyway?”
“Again, if I tell you…”
“You’ll have to kill me, I know. You’re like an old movie sometimes with all of your clichés and your ‘theme’ song.”
“Hey don’t knock my having a theme song. The smartest woman I know advised me to get one. It took years to find the right one and it fits. It keeps me focused.”
“Musta been an old lady.”
“Yeah, but you would love her. Whoa….sorry about hitting the platform so hard. Wait a minute before you stand and watch your step as you get out of the water. Every time you get out of the boat you fall.” He chuckled. “Think you would have caught on by now.”
“You would think. It just takes a while for me to get my land legs back and now that it’s starting to rain I really want to move faster. Do you need me to help you tie the boat or something?”
“No, but you can take my phone from my jacket pocket and tell me what the text is saying. Someone is really trying to get in touch with me. They’ve texted ‘bout four times already. Take it and move away from the water. I just bought that phone.”
“I’ll just go up the bank to the parking lot. I’ll be in your car. I’m too cold to stand out here.”
“Fine, and remember not to touch anything. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I know, I know.”
Anger destroys a relationship.
A teenage babysitter decides to go to college.
A single parent places her child in daycare.
A three year old is mistakenly given to a stalker by his pre-school teacher.
When Saturday mornings rolled around Catrine Teddi would bring her three year old son Brhin to eat breakfast at Mc Donald’s. It was an established routine to mark a day of errands and familial bonding. She never paid attention to Mona Boots sitting in the shadows across the play yard watching the little boy.
Mona, deciding she wanted Brhin as her own, spent weeks stalking him and his mother. In her delusion to finally do something right in her life she enters The Perfect Solution Childcare Center and leaves with Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi in her arms. It’s a choice she is prepared to defend.
Yanking his coat from the back of the wood slated chair and practically tipping it over with the momentum of his movements, Austin Sanchez practically ran out of the detective's office. Outside of the door, he angrily pushed his arms into the sleeves of his smoke gray leather jacket and jabbed the 'down' button of the elevator.
"Doctor Sanchez." The detective poked his head out of his door. "Don't forget that you have to remain in town. Until your son is found, you are unfortunately considered a suspect."
"I'm not about to forget that too soon." Austin answered in a flat furious tone. He stepped into the elevator and stalled the door's closing by putting his foot in the doorway. "Just keep my name and number close at hand; you may want to put it on your list as a murder suspect before the night is over."
"Listen, Doctor Sanchez, don't do anything you’ll be sorry about," Warned the detective, pointing his pen towards Austin. "You'll find yourself right back up here and not sitting comfortably in my little office."
"Never fear, if I do anything, I can guarantee you I won’t be sorry." He jabbed his finger into the button that closed the door.
Shaking his head as the doors closed, the detective empathized with Austin's feelings. What a hell of a way to find out you’re a father. He had seen and heard a lot of things during his years as police detective, but this was a new one. To never know that you are a parent and then to get the knowledge when your child is missing had to be a horrendous blow to both your ego and your sense of righteousness.
Remembering the shocked look on Austin Sanchez's face, he had no doubts that the man knew nothing about the child's whereabouts. As a matter of fact, he had been afraid he would have to call the paramedics. The poor guy had looked like he was about to have a stroke.
"Man, what way to find out you are a father," The detective repeated out loud. Slipping his arms into the sleeves of his coat, he too left the building.
Unknowingly echoing the detective's thoughts, Austin stepped from the elevator and walked out of the police station. He was so pissed, the words swirled around in his head at such a rapid pace, he could barely think. If it hadn't been for the fact he was dead tired from spending the past eighteen hours between two different surgeries, he felt as if he could drive straight to Catrine's apartment and beat the life out of her. But then again, he was really tired. He needed a shower, a bottle of extra strength aspirin and a cup of coffee.
From the moment he had gotten home from work and heard the message on his answering machine telling him to report to the detective's office or face the possibility of being arrested, Austin had thought that there was nothing left in the day to shock him. Finding out he was a father and being accused of that child's abduction, had definitely taken him on a trip to another dimension. He recalled each step of the visit with each step he took towards his car.
"Come in Doctor Sanchez."
The detective ushered Austin into the cramped little room and directed him to a slate backed chair at a long wooden table. Shutting the door, he sat opposite of Austin with his arms folded, rocking back and forth on the rear legs of the chair. He studied Austin as if he were staring at a specimen under a microscope. Then, without uttering a word, the detective let the chair fall back on all four of its legs, the sudden thud startling in the quiet room. Tapping the unsharpened end of his pencil on the table as he studied the notes in front of him, the detective repeatedly hummed a couple of tuneless notes.
Austin, assuming that this was another form of police psychological torture, nervously glanced around the small room. It was a mess. The clutter made him fill slightly claustrophobic. Shelves, floor, and table were packed with files, office equipment, and other office paraphernalia. There was barely enough room for him to move. Breathing slowly, Austin strove to put on the face of extreme confidence. After all, he had done nothing wrong. He had stolen nothing. No one had died on the operating table while in his hands and he owed no one any money. So what was the problem? Why had he been called here? He could feel himself slipping into the Black man's sense of injustice and fear. No matter how professional a Black man became, the idea of dealing with the law could put mortal fear into his soul.
Examining the tips of his manicured nails and then the tips of his well shined shoes, he waited for the detective to stop the tuneless humming and speak. When the humming stopped, Austin thought he was about to learn the reason for his summons and he sat up straight, but he was mistaken. He watched the detective with a burning anger as the man tossed the useless pencil, pushed back his chair and moved away from the table, crossing the room to the coffee maker.
"Would you like a cup of coffee, Doctor Sanchez?"
"Why not, I guess I have nothing to lose by taking a cup." Deciding to get the show on the road, he employed sarcasm as his tool. "Maybe after that, you will tell me why you requested my company. Unless you called me here because you were lonely."
"No." The detective returned to the table and placed one of the cups he was carrying, in front of Austin. "Loneliness doesn’t happen to be one of my problems. As a matter of fact, my problem is really your problem." He took a sip from his cup.
Copying the detective's moves, Austin irritably took a drink from his coffee. The damned little detective was working on his last nerve. Having to sit at the beck and call of a White man made him want to return to his belligerent, defiant, and ignorant days in the Hood. The gulp of scalding coffee brought his control into focus and he coughed in annoyance. Slamming the cup on the table and spilling a few drops in the process, he then mimicked the detective's rocking movements.
"Doctor Sanchez where is your son?"
"What?"Austin let the chair's legs fall back to the floor with a bang. "I don't have a son. If you called me in here to badger me about some unknown child, then I'm afraid you called in the wrong person." Austin stood to leave.
"Do you know a Catrine Nechelle Teddi?"
"Yes," Austin answered hesitantly before he turned and gazed doubtfully on the detective. "I haven't seen her for a few years, though."
Pointing to the empty chair with an ink pen, a sure sign they were now getting to work the detective resumed his interrogation.
"When was the last time you saw your son?"
"I have never seen my 'son', because I don’t have one." Austin getting more irritated as the moments passed emphasized his response angrily as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"From what Ms. Teddi has told us, you do. The child is three and a half." He picked up the sheet of paper. "He was born on the twentieth of September."
"What?" He resumed his seat slowly, staring at detective in astonishment. "You mean you're telling me that Catrine had my child and she didn't let me know?"
"Is that what you’re telling me?"
"Yes."Austin covered his mouth in shocked disbelief. "How could she do such a thing? Isn't there a law against that or something? How can a woman keep the knowledge of a child from its father and there not be a law against it? Wouldn't that be like kidnapping or something?" He stared at the detective, but did not really see him. His mind, desperately trying to assimilate what it had heard, refused to take in anything else.
"Have you and Ms. Teddi had an argument lately?"
"I just finished telling you that I haven’t seen her in a few years. I'm talking about over four years, here."
"Four years," The detective repeated the words in disbelief. “So you're trying to tell me you don't know where the boy is."
"He's missing? You brought me here, tell me about a child I have never seen and then you tell me that he is missing. Am I going to be considered a suspect? Wait a minute; I am a suspect, right" Austin stood in agitation and paced the room. “Do you think that I took him?"
"Sit down, Sanchez." The detective stood and put his hand on his hip. His solid stance and the hand nearest the gun in his holster intimidating as hell and Austin sat."The mother reported the child missing and we always check with family members, first. You are not the only one we will question."
"I just can't believe this." Austin shook his head in stupefaction. “Catrine had my child and didn’t let me know. Do you have a picture of my son?" He looked across the room at the detective.
"No, an officer is on the way to meet Ms. Teddi now to get one." He sat back down. "I won't be able to keep you too long, but I do have a few questions that I want to ask you. I want to ask you a few questions about your activities throughout today. So sit back and calm down."
Taking a deep breath and picking up the cup of coffee so his hands would be occupied, he had spent the better part of the past two hours sitting in that hard bottomed slate backed chair, repeatedly answering the same questions until he thought he would burst with anger and frustration.
"Listen, I don’t know how differently I can answer you. I have never seen him. I have already told you the same thing repeatedly I have no ideas about an abduction. For all I know the child is not even my son."
He had stressed the statement. Losing all patience, but to no avail. The questions continued. Do you know Catrine Teddi? Where does she live? When was the last time you had any contact with her? How long have you known her? Do you think she would harm her own child? The same questions, the same answers except for the one that he had no answer for. Why had Catrine kept the boy a secret?
Angrily striding through the parking garage without a glance to his surroundings, Austin walked past his car and huffed irritably when he had to turn and retrace his steps. Pushing the button that activated the engine of his car, he cursed extensively when the car protested with an irritating grinding squeal as it was thrown into the wrong gear.
"When I get to my apartment and take a shower, I'm going to call Catrine," he promised himself aloud as he restarted the car. "I should just pop up at her house. I still remember her address. Hell, I should. It took me damned near a year to stop driving past there. This time, I will be damned if I just pass by."
Fifteen minutes later, Austin was parking his hunter green Chevrolet Crossfire near the door of his apartment when he noticed a police car sitting across the street and cursed again as he slammed the car's door.
"When I get close to Catrine it will be nothing nice," he muttered aloud. "First, I get the humiliating visit with the police and now I have a police car sitting outside of my apartment, watching me as if I’m some common criminal."
Running up the stairs and opening his apartment door, Austin immediately went over to the telephone and punched out Catrine's number with the tip of his middle finger, cracking the nail with the force of his anger.
"Same number," he grumbled when he heard her voice on the machine. "I bet the girl is still driving that dangerous little sporty Jaguar, and with my son in it, no less."
Barely able to restrain himself from voicing his anger and frustration, he left a brief message on her answering machine; he let out an utterance of irritation which sounded more like a growl before slamming down the receiver and began to strip for a shower. Standing rigid under the water and hoping that the soothing drops would calm him, he closed his eyes and turned his face to the stinging hot spray. As the water ran down his cheeks he let himself remember the last night they had spent together.
Over the years that they had been apart, he had dared himself to even bring her name to memory. It had hurt him deeply when their relationship ended and his male pride refused to let him go crawling back. Until the day Catrine had thrown him out of her life, he had not realized just how much she had meant to him. He’d felt as if he would die and had spent many days on the verge of tears. For a man of his years that had been a new experience. He had walked around his apartment with barely enough energy to move. He couldn't concentrate. A terrible thing when you are a surgeon. Finally, he had run to his mother like a wimpy little woman and cried on her shoulders. He told her how clinging Catrine had become. How much the girl wanted him in her life and how much the idea of living with someone frightened him.
"Tin," his mother sat on the sofa looking up at him in barely disguised amusement. She patted the palm of her hand on the cushion next to her
"Honey, sit. You’re hurting my neck. What with me looking up at the ceiling and swinging my head to follow you as you wear out the carpet with your incessant pacing; I may never be able to use my neck again." She laughed and patted the spot again when he scowled. "Honey, if you cared that much for this girl, why in the world did you break up with her? She sounded like a dream to me."
"What are you talking about, Mom? Didn't you hear what I said? This woman believed that she owned me. Every time I turned around, she was there."
"You mean she stalked you," his mother stated, tongue-in-cheek, almost laughing when he threw his hands in the air.
"No." He stood back up. "No, I mean it was like we were never apart. She was just always there. When I got off work, I went to her apartment or she came to mine. When we could, we ate lunch together. She was just always there, washing dishes, clothes, cleaning the apartment, cooking, relaxing...Mom. Mom, stop laughing this isn’t funny. I just felt… I don't know."
"No, trapped." he sighed in disgust. "Mom you think this is funny but it isn't. No matter what I did she never trusted me. She was always thinking that I am messing around with someone else."
"Was she seeing anyone else?"
"No. As a matter of fact I'm the only one she ever...why am I having this conversation with you? I'm going to Dallas' house. He and Houston are watching the game on television."
"Yeah, you do that. Your brothers could probably help you a lot better than I can. I think that sometimes you forget that I am a woman. And as such I can understand how this girl feels. If I caught your drift, you're the only person this girl has ever slept with, right?" She continued when he put his head down and studied the circle he was making with the toe of his shoe and didn't answer. "Just that fact would make the girl very emotional. She.... Uhm, what's her name?" His mother stopped in mid sentence.
"It doesn't matter. I won't be seeing her again."
"Right," She scoffed in disbelief. "If it doesn't matter, tell me her name. Would I like her? How old is she? Where does she live? How long have you been seeing her? Who are her parents? And she doesn't sleep around, huh? She sounds like a winner to me."
Austin looked at his mother dubiously.
"Mom, don't worry about it. I'll be fine."
"If you answer a few of the questions I would be able to give you an answer.”
"That's okay Mom. Let it pass. I'll be back." He walked backwards to the door.
"Fine, go talk to your brothers. Just don't let those chauvinistic macho older brothers make you feel or do something you'll regret later in life. Let them make you wimp out of your true feelings. Make you believe you are whipped or anything. I know how men get when they’re together. You know I always tell you guys you can tell me anything. This time I think you may have to do this on your own. Maybe even think with your heart and not your head."
He opened the screen and stepped onto the porch. "Yes, Ma’me I will." He turned and almost ran to his car. Laughing to himself as he got behind the wheel.
Old habits die hard. His could mother always make him admit more than he wanted. Just by sitting and listening. She had never made judgment on them for whatever they had done. She had let them do it to themselves. Using subtle questions, knowing smiles, and well-placed remarks, they had always known how she felt about an incident and what their responsibilities were.
During the many more conversations he and his mother had while he was visiting, he never told her how much he missed seeing Catrine's smile and hearing her tell the corniest jokes. Nor did he tell her how he missed the conversations he and Catrine would have after making love.
And she, as his mother, never dug too deep. She just fed him delicious home cooked meals and sat near him when he was at his lowest. For the two weeks he lived in her house, moped around, and welcomed her comforting words until she had booted him out and ordered him to go back to work with the promise that his heart would heal and he would live. Austin hadn't believed his mother's words just like he hadn't believed that the last night with Catrine would really be the last.
Three days before that final confrontation they'd had an argument and he had slammed out of her apartment vowing never to return. A vow he had stated many times previously, but had never kept. He had always returned. For some reason they had begun to argue frequently. Especially during the last two months together.
On this particular night, Catrine called him and invited him over for what she called a 'last get together'. She said she wanted to end the relationship on good terms and so he had gone. The candlelight meal had been delicious as was their 'get together'. He had been lying next to her with his eye closed, enjoying the fragrance of her perfume, wishing they didn't really have to break-up, and basking in her closeness and the way she was slowly caressing his chest when her words abruptly scattered the mist of self-satisfaction clouding his brain.
"Austin, don't you think it would be nice if we could be like this every night?" she asked softly.
Jumping from the bed, he grabbed his clothes from the floor and virtually ran from the room. Standing before the sofa in the living room, he made two futile attempts at pulling on his pants before succeeding.
Shaking his head in an attempt release some of the anger that was about to explode through his pores, Austin returned to the present and reached for the bar of soap, lathered his towel and scrubbed vigorously at his body with exasperation. No matter how he tried he could not by pass his memories. He remembered how Catrine looked when she entered into the living room from the bedroom. She had been securing the belt on her robe and as she tossed back her beautiful shoulder length hair with one hand, her small breast had swelled against the silk of the robe, practically begging for his touch. Giving in to the enticement, Austin stepped towards her and stopped short at the fury bursting from her lips.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Austin?" She put her hand on her hips and removed them just as quickly when the lapel of the robe gaped open to expose her nakedness. Closing the gap, she pulled the belt tighter.
Smiling at her belated sense of modesty, Austin pulled on his shirt. "I'm not the one with a problem."
"Well, it sure as hell isn't me." Her voice rose as did the anger in her face."I'm not the one that jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. You act like I'm trying to take away your freedom. Like you thing I'm going to chain you to a wall or something." She sat on the sofa and angrily tapped her foot.
"Or 'something' is right. You want to tie me to you."
Austin paced the living room angrily and when he got near the sofa, he picked up a small pillow and threw it against the furthest wall in frustration.
"What in God's name do you want from me?" He asked. "You know I work constantly."
"Damn it." Catrine picked up the pillow and took her time replacing it on the sofa. He watched her as she bent and plumped up the pillow. The delightful shape of her bottom embossed on the silk of the gown.
Smiling to himself, he remembered how Catrine had turned and saw the look on his face and had stiffened, looking at him with a slight sneer from feet to head. She stood in front of him as if she believed she could knock him down to her size and then had the nerve to blatantly prod him in his chest in her anger.
"Austin I want you to be faithful to me and if you can't be faithful at least be honest."
"I am honest with you. Is it my fault you think so much of me that you believe every woman that sees me, wants me?"
Catrine scoffed in amusement."You are so full of yourself, Austin. Do you honestly think you mean so much to me that I have a need to tie you to my side?"
"Hell, yes. Girl you know you love me and you'll love me forever."
"I can get over it."
"Yeah right, I believe that as much as I believe there’s a man in the moon. I don't know how I can be more honest. I tell you my job schedule. You know where I am all of the time. My life is not my own. When would I have time to run around on you? When I am not at work, I am with you. It's up to you whether or not you believe me. I think the best solution for us is to be apart."
"Austin, I can love you for the rest of my life, but that doesn't mean I have to be a fool for you. You can't give me a clear reason why you won't live here with me and that keeps me from believing you. We don't even have to live here. If you worry because the townhouse is mine, I could move in with you even though this place is larger. Or we can buy something else. We don't have to live here."
The argument became much more heated with each one saying hurtful things until he stormed out of the apartment and never heard from her again.
"And now I find out I have a son and the boy is nearly four years old. I could just beat her." he said aloud.
Read interviews (video)with the characters
If you are interested in reviewing this book, please contact me
"The Women of the Hill took me by surprise. More a novelette than a full length novel, it's packed full of personality and energy. Within the setting of a close-knit circle of friends, realistically drawn with razor-sharp, true to life dialogue, a plot is woven of African-American women struggling to survive economically and raise their children in the face of marriages and relationships gone wrong. The ending was so surprising and shocking that I was literally biting my nails as I whipped through the pages. Ey Wade knows how to portray real characters and tell a story with equal parts humor and pathos...a story that never loses its punch." Georgina Young-Ellis
I believe the trailer is the best piece of excerpt for each book.
Visit "The Children's Corner"
Mhia is so upset about not being able to hug the sun her mom tell her the story of the antics the sun goes through to get a hug and she learns a little science in the end. Who Will Hug the Sun is part of a series of picture books titled IN MY SISTER’S WORLD .
BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM explores the advantages and disadvantages of being the middle child and shows how Gillean discovers she has the uniqueness of being the only sister with the ability to be either the eldest or the youngest child in the family.
What would you do to ease the fears of your child’s nightmares? In prose and illustrations, NOT A SOUND, NOT A PEEP shows how the family handles the nightmares of Mhia, the youngest child in the family
If you would like to review either of the picture books, please contact me.
Beads on a String-America's Racially Intertwined Biographical History
"If you enjoy reading good genuine history, which is all about people, this is the most innovative and intriguingly honest perception yet, of America's roots and growth. Ey, An amazing work - very labor intensive - and worthy of a PhD (in my humble opinion, but what do I know). Your index is just as intense as the text, for God's sake! Finished your book, "Beads On a String!" Perfect for home-schooling; very complete, heartwarming and winning material" Kathy Brown
"....This is the story of the heroes of our collective past. What is incredibly moving is that so many of these heroes have gone unsung for so long. I can gladly recommend this book to anyone interested in the historical journey of the land we live in. Beyond that, I can just as easily recommend it to anyone who just likes a great read."Jonathan Ellis "
"Ey Wade has written a unique and important book that put all racial History under one umbrella. Wade has done a tremendous job collecting information on all races, and all subjects related to them. "Beads on a String" is a piece of History that was missing until this book came out. I highly recommend this book to anyone wishing to understand more about how multiple cultures shaped the US to what it is today. Two thumbs up! " Lola
DESCRIPTION: Ever wondered what America's history would look like if every race was included in one book? Celebrated daily? History was written in more than Black & White and Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History lauds loudly the accomplishments of all races that helped make America the great country it has become. America’s glorious multi-racial history is finally acknowledged.
ABOUT THE BOOK
This is an independent research and education project
Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History is a recording of America’s glorious multi-racial history, celebrated within one cover.
Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History lauds loudly the accomplishments of all races that helped make America the great country it has become.
It celebrates such people as Hiawatha, who fought for freedom of his people. It applauds Lonnie Johnson who invented the ‘Super Soaker’, Dalip Singh Saund a member of the United States House of Representatives and Rev. Rick Warren who blessed the 2008 Presidential Inauguration. Beads on a String continue with the recognition of others such as, Arpad G.C. Gerster who was one of the first surgeons in America, and Yamato Ichihashi, one of the first academics of Asian ancestry in the United States. Antonio Meucci invented the telephone, Michael Jackson entertained; Minoru Yamasaki second-generation Japanese-American architect designed the World Trade Center, and Amadeo Peter Giannini who founded the of Bank of Italy, which later became Bank of America.
Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History never stops celebrating our heritages from the naming of the country by Martin Waldseemuller to the elimination of overt racial discrimination, through education, entertainment and to the glorious day of racial, political and social unification with Barack Obama’s Presidential election.
Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History will be a great asset to the educational system as well as in the lives of people all over the world. With the election of Barack Obama as President, it is clear; America is ready for a change. That change should take effect within the history books.
The inauguration of President Obama ushered in a giant change in America.
Dr. Joseph Lowery former president of Southern Christian Leadership conference delivers the benediction as Barack Obama takes the oath as the 44th President of the United States of America.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure….”
Quote- A. Philip Randolph "Salvation for a Race"
Introduction-The Purpose of this book
Quote- Dr John Henrik Clark
Quote- Carlos Bulosan "America is in the Heart"
The Naming of America
Discovery of America
The Formation of America
Reason for Colonization
Quote--John Hope Franklin
Chapter II-Slavery and Discrimination
Label My Race Human
The Beginning of Slavery in the United States
Slavery as an Economy
Quote-Charles Evan Hughes
Dred Scott Decision
Chapter III-Voices of Change
The Civil Rights Movement /Organizations
Chapter IV-Biographies of Notable Contributors to America's Growth…
Activism and Abolitionism
Scholars and Educators
Artists, Architects, and Designers
Authors and Publishers
Film, Television, Entertainment and Media
A Change Has Come
Yes, We Can
Martin Luther King
From Martin to Obama
Lift Every Voice
We Shall Over Come
The Dreams of Generations
Gone Too Soon/Heal the World