To Be A Preacher’s Son

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I haven’t written anything here for a while, as I’ve been working on numerous stories that took me away from this page and all my other little enjoyments. Although, saying that, its not as though I don’t like writing, it has become my main outlet for expression and release.

Last year, I wrote a few stories, and completed a number of them. I didn’t send any to my publisher, or anywhere else, for that matter, until I wrote something that I never intended to have published, but finished it all the same. That story is still sitting there, and may never be read by more than a handful of people, but that doesn’t bother me.

My next release was a story that just came along, and was written so fast, that it blew my socks off. It was a romance, without any romantic interactions, but the love contained in it was evident. There was that element of danger, a slice of regret and a lot of interaction between the characters.

Through a lot of revisions, this story is so much more than I thought it could be, and I hope, better for the changes that have taken place through it. So without further delay, let me give you the synopsis and a short excerpt from the story to whet your appetite!

Synopsis:

Synopsis – Preacher: The Haskins Brothers

Paul ‘Preacher’ Haskins, was anything but the mild mannered choir boy his name implied. Always the protector, the nurturer. The big brother looking out for his sibling; his brother from another mother, who fell into his hands. He’s a bad boy with no regrets. Paul didn’t need redemption; he needed ammunition, some cash and as little hassle as possible. Never thinking to mend his ways, until a chance meeting had him questioning his lifestyle choices and affiliations. But when an unscrupulous upstart crawls out of the woodwork, he’s forced to choose between the two people he loves the most, simply because he can’t protect them both. He knows where she is; the world isn’t big enough to hide the one he loved and left behind. He’ll find her, and hope she doesn’t break his face when he does.

Penelope ‘Penny” Calvanera never realised there was more in life that her goals, until she fell over a wolf-in-sheeps-clothing. Hooked on the heady mixture of Paul Haskins, she’s oblivious to his darker side. When she’s abandoned at the worst possible time, she moves on with her life, until what she’d learnt to live without comes crashing back, turning her world upside down, again! But he’s not come alone, he’s brought his business with him and all hell is guaranteed to break loose. He hasn’t committed a crime – yet. But his past won’t be satisfied until it has him where it wants him. They need to get their act together; trouble awaits that will affect them and the one’s they love.

Excerpt:

I could almost smell him before he touched me; a smooth blend of cologne and a heat that rose off his skin in waves. He’d come up behind me, burying his nose into the fold between my neck and shoulder, causing me to tip my head so he could nuzzle easier. I’d missed him those two months, but hadn’t found a good enough reason to get back to Edinburgh without raising suspicion. I wasn’t ready to share him with my family. And Vicky, my older sister, would have a field day when she realized my attentions had been diverted.

“God, Penny, you smell like life itself,” Paul said, kissing me harder and opening his mouth to bite down on my neck, teasing my skin with his teeth and sending the completely wrong message to my lower stomach. If I’d had a butterfly or two before, now I had a whole army of them. I needed to get out of the public place I was sitting in, being stared at by half the returning student population.

“If you don’t stop,” I told him, “I’ll have to make sure you never stop.”

“Is that a promise, Penny?”

“It’s a threat.” I eased my head lower, glancing at him from the side of my eye, my lashes lowering in a seductive invitation. My tongue poked out over my lip and I heard him groan before he planted a quick kiss on my mouth and stood upright.

“Have you finished signing up for your classes?” Paul asked, flipping over a sheet of paper and scanning the few lines. He dropped into the seat beside me and threw a foot over his knee, looking casual.

“Oh my God!” My mouth dropped open, “You cut your hair?”

He hadn’t just cut it, a short trim to give more definition and make him look more like a man than a forest hermit; he’d gone the whole hog. A short inch and a half cut at the top, that tapered into the back of his neck and over his ears, turning his once light blond hair, a darker, almost mousy brown. It gave his angular face more definition, along with the close cut to his beard; he’d left a scrumptious stubble that set him off as a force to be reckoned with, especially where my feelings were concerned.

My fingers went into the soft waves of his fine hair, turning my lips downwards, “I really liked your hair. Why?”

“Because you liked it too much,” his lips twitched mischievously. “Your hands found it too easily, Pen.”

“What the hell am I supposed to grab now?” I asked, serious.

“Improvise,” he smiled wider, “you’re a smart girl.”

“I’m not convinced,” I eyed him, “you’ll have to show me.”

“Don’t worry, Pen,” He looked at me hungrily, “I intend to.”

                                                <<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>

“I’m starving,” I leaned over the side of the bed, trying to find the stray bag of chips I’d had to discard earlier. “This isn’t going to sustain me.” I waved the half empty bag at him, the few crumbs shaking loosely.

“You’ll survive, Pen,” Paul told me, kissing a line between my breasts.

“Let’s get pizza,” I grabbed his chin, arresting his downward motion. If this continued I wouldn’t eat for the rest of the day. Re-acquaintances were one thing, but I also needed to eat.

Paul sighed, “A whole summer, Pen, and you want pizza. While all I want is you.”

“You had me,” I laughed, “twice! Let me eat.”

“Okay, food it is.” He crawled back up the bed and reached for his phone, his grey eyes calculating as he placed an order.

Looking at the curl of his lips as he talked, smiling at a funny comment made with the operator, I realized I wouldn’t be able to get enough of this man, not in a million years, perhaps a lifetime wouldn’t be enough. Having spent the summer without him, I wanted – needed more. I ached with the need to have him around all the time. How was it that I loved him to distraction in such a short time?

“What’s got you so quiet?” Paul dropped the phone, turning on me in a rush.

I squealed, trying to protect myself, “Nothing! Just hungry, that’s all.”

“Let me take your mind off it while we wait,” he said, moving back to the area between my breast, spreading himself a snug gap between my thighs and sighing in content.

“How was your summer?”

“Uneventful,” he replied. His eyes slid away as though avoiding my scrutiny. It made me wonder what was really on his mind.

A cold stone settled in my chest, “Why do I get he feeling that’s not all of it?”

“Pen,” he held me with those strange eyes, “would I lie to you?” A smile played around his mouth, distracting me.

I hesitated for a fraction of a second, “I’d hope you wouldn’t.”

“Penny,” he kissed right above my heart. “Baby,” his voice soothed, a ripple of sound over my sensitive skin. Another kiss, “You know we’re tight, right?”

“What does that have to do with how you spent your summer?”

The doorbell sounded, and Paul leapt from the bed, struggling into a pair of jeans as he hopped from the room, shouting for the person to wait, before the bell sounded deep and resonant through the hallway again.

Read the full story when it is release later this month.

A Woman’s Worth.

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This month seems to be the month for quite a few pushes for awareness. It’s Autism Awareness month, and I believe everyone should have an understanding of what that is, how it affects sufferers and their families, and how people can help.

It’s also Domestic Abuse and Sexual Abuse Awareness month, and it seems a shame that instead of lessening, occurrences like this are all the more happening when people should be able to walk the streets, without fear of attack, and more so, that they should be able to live in their homes without the fear of the one they love, support and promised to care for them, will lay hands on, violate, rape, maim or kill them, because there is a sense of entitlement that allows them to do so.

When we witness abusers getting away with rape, a slapped wrist over date-rape; it says something that should never be said, and we all know what that is.

But one of the worst abuses that I have seen over the last few months, is the case of black men talking, quite vociferously, about their reasons for not being with a black woman. I like many black women, don’t really care about their reasons are, it’s a personal choice, and I’m not inviting you into my home to tell me how to live, neither am I giving censure about your life. It’s your life.

But, I don’t want to dwell on this, I want to show you something else.

Look at the picture at the top of this page… have you looked? Now, look again. What do you see? Yes, you see a black woman wearing a red top, holding a machete to a policeman’s throat. Now, look down the arm of that policeman, what do you see? Do you see that boy laying on the floor with that gun to his head? Who is pointing that gun? Yes, the policeman who has a knife to his throat, and the woman who is willing to die for that boy. Look at the determination in her face, the willingness to die for that boy. There is also another gun pointed at her, but she doesn’t care, she wants them to know, if you pull that trigger, I will do what I have to do. There is a strength there that I can’t understand, that I don’t even know if I could face, were I in the same situation.

As black women, we have been willing to die for our families, time and time again, and often have put ourselves in harm’s way, risking our lives, losing our dignity, and our children for the sake of that. How many children were removed from black-slave women and sold on, like cattle, never to be seen again. Toni Morrison wrote in Beloved, how ‘the children’s hands would age and she would never know what their adult hands looked like.’

So, for Sexual Abuse Awareness Month and Domestic Violence Awareness, let’s remember that families are supposed to stick together, and protect one another, just like this woman had done for the one she calls family.

Love Is A Loaded Gun…

 

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Currently working on a number of projects. But as always, I get sidetracked.

This morning I’m wondering what love is all about, and how disposable it’s treated. Read on and enjoy, I hope. #Disposable

“Don’t worry about it, we live in a disposable society,” she said, rolling up the napkin in her hand.

She glanced at him, “The same way you throw your Nespresso pod in the trash every morning…” she said, walking across the kitchen, heels a hollow click on the ceramic tiled floor, “is the same way you’ve treated my love for you.”

She leaned over the counter, “Disposable!” She dropped the napkin in the bin, lifted her other hand and pointed a small handgun at his chest. The infrared dot hitting him squarely between his shapely pectoral muscles.

“Think about this!”

“Oh, but I have…” She lifted the nozzle higher, the red dot hitting square between his eyes.

“Caryn, don’t do anything stupid.”

“You mean like you did?”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen-“

“But that’s just it, no one ever does. It’s a symptom of our society – Disposable.”

Her finger squeezed the metal, warming it under the touch of her skin, “Like you said, ‘Sorry, but I don’t need you anymore’.”

To Be Continued….

Look out for Love Is Disposable.

 

And Still We Rise!

And Still We Rise!
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Josephine Baker

Research for me, takes on many forms. Sometimes, I get caught up in an idea and run with it. At other times, I can be researching one thing only to discover something that I didn’t know about before, and off I go on a tangent.

This is what happened today. While investigating hat designs from the 1920’s, I came across a few pictures of Josephine Baker, a prominent, in her time, Black American dancer whose shows border on a little on the risqué!

It’s obvious, that after discovering her, I had to find others.

So I present to you a few well known black women from the 1920’s and beyond. Enjoy!

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Florence Mills

Was a dancer and singer, billed the “Queen of Happiness”. Most notable performance in Blackbirds. She claimed that she invented the Charleston dance!

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Josephine Baker

Not only a national, but international famed singer and performer whose career centred mainly in Europe. Awarded a medal in honour of her resistance in France during WW2, and was a staunch activist during the civil rights movement.

Mother Of The Blues

Gladys Bentley

An American blues singer, pianist and entertainer performing in Harlem. Appeared as a black lesbian cross-dresser at Harry Hansberry’s Clam House during the 1920’s.

Bessie Coleman

Bessie Coleman

Part Native American civil aviator famous for being the first woman of Afro-American descent to hold a pilots license, which she obtained in France because she wasn’t permitted to do so in America. She died in a plane crash in 1926, while testing a plane.

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Anna-May Wong

Considered to be the first Chinese American movie star with a career spanning silent movies, sound, television, radio and stage.

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Edythe Turnham 

Was a pianist from her early childhood, who later formed a band with her husband and sons.

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Flappers and Jazz Women

The Jazz dancers of the 1920’s, whose signature dance appeared to be the Charleston, were seen throughout the Jazz scene in Harlem and wherever Jazz was played. It was considered that without these women and their dance and enthusiasm, the 1920’s may not have ‘Roared‘ at all!!!

What’s In A Genre!

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I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I’m still at a loss as to the answer.

There’s are two reasons for this.

One: What does it mean to have a genre, or to be in a genre. As a reader, I find that reading a book that is listed under a particular ‘theme’, (for want of a better description) can have elements of that would be the guiding factor in another ‘theme’.

Two: As a writer, we find that we “cross-over” with our genre’s and find it hard to put them into a particular box.

On Wikipedia, there are twenty-four listed Genres for literary writing. That isn’t to say that they are clear cut and in the box. There are many side genre’s, all listed with the main idea, that stem from these and cross the boundaries, often blurring them. And this is where the confusion often occurs.

In recent years, there’s been invented a number of new genre’s. Fan-Fiction, for instance, which for many years wasn’t viewed as a serious form of writing. But ask anyone who writes fan-fiction and you will get more than just an earful!

Speculative fiction, is also something, in my opinion, that wasn’t written about as often, being a cross between fantasy and contemporary themes. Also, another that Wiki failed to list is, Afro-futuristism, which was brought to the attention of literary circles by Mark Dery, back in 1993, and was also discussed by Alondra Nelson, during the same period.

My main reasons for writing about this, is the I find myself blurring the lines between genres. I read an interview given by a prominent Literary agent, and when asked about the types of manuscripts he was looking for, he stated that he “was interested in literary fiction that crossed boundaries and genres”!!!

I’m currently working on a few stories, each of which crosses boundaries and would have difficulty fitting into a particular genre. I have always said, I hated to be put inside a box, but i wonder where that leaves writers such as myself, who excel and find their niche writing about what crosses borders and brings about a touch of the unexpected.

I’m still in the process of exploring 100 stories, and have put up a few; the last, story 4, by  myself. When I look at it, I wonder where it would fit as a genre. But then again, I’m not too sure I care!

 

Challenging The Self.

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An important aspect of being better than we were yesterday, is the willingness to challenge oneself.

There is a difference to having the ability to do this, and the willingness to do this. We often think that making a name for ourself, changing our career path, having a dream and following that dream to the end, is only achievable when we have the means, when all other aspects of our lives are running as smoothly as possible.

But, sometimes, we have to jump. That leap that swings us out into the unknown, nothing but free air under us, nothing to hold us up, or to fall back on, is a scary, almost terrifying thought, let alone, situation. But, when we can do this, we find so much fulfilment and joy, that we often wonder why we didn’t do this before!

Comfort Zones, are to be pushed, avoided and distanced from at all costs. I know its not for everyone, but dreams are only just dreams, if they are never explored.

I enjoy pushing myself and changing the boundaries of what is expected of me, and what I expect of myself.

Today, I added another story to the 100 story challenge, a lovely short story by Onyxx, an author who is signed to the same indie publisher as I am. Go on over, read the stories and enjoy!

Something New, Something Borrowed!

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If you have been following my blog, you know that I’m always on the look out for something that inspires me, and it usually comes in the form of a photograph or picture. and this is no different.

I have been collecting old photographs since the summer, and I wanted to give an idea of what I do with them, once I have my hands on them. mostly, it’s ‘ooh’ and ‘aahh’ a lot, but usually it give me the chance to look at other people’s pasts and life-events.

Another thing I do with these photographs, is make up stories, short snippets, really, that are probably nothing like the real thing, but that’s the whole fun of the practice.

I have a “Child-of-Blog” page, that I just added, to host 100 short stories, and as the weeks and months go by, I hope to add a picture with a short story to each one. I hope not to be the only participant, which makes this exercise all the more fun.

So, head on over to the page next door, and read the first of “100 Stories!!!” and enjoy!!!