Cheris Hodges's Blog, page 12

Ashley Speaks: Y'all Y'all Y'all

Y'all... Y'all... Y'all... If you glance at my profile pic you know I'm a thick'ems. And honestly, though I have my insecure days, overall, I wear my weight proudly. It took a lot for me to get to a point where I could love myself and the body I'm in. That being said, the body I'm in isn't exactly loving  me, so before something bad happens, I decided to get to a healthy weight that isn't on that BMI chart. Because that mess will have me looking like a strung out meth head looking for a fix. I'm 5'1 -and a half thank you very much - and I think getting to 155 would be a good weight for my body type. Now Ashley, why are you telling me all this boring mess?Well I'm glad you asked reader! I said all of that to say, those fit folks - you know the ones that get up at 4:45 every morning to go for a 5 mile run. Then, they get home and have the audacity to eat some nuts and freaking berries while I'm over here chomping on blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, maple sausage, cheesy grits and fried catfish. You know the ones who love to talk about how good life is because they don't eat things like McDonalds or Pizza Hut? You know the ones who cry about being fat just so you can tell them how good they look? Yeah, those ones! Well, they lie. They lie like a penny in the parking lot of a grocery store (thanks The Band Perry for that line. Oan: that was an endorsement so I expect free tickets to your next concert... We'll discuss restrictions later). That thing they call endorphins. You know it kicks in when you do drugs and theoretically when you exercise? That mess doesn't happen.
There is no happy feeling. Not unless you want to count the feeling of pure elation when my body collapses in the middle of the floor when I'm done.Now don't you dare try to tell me I have to give it more time before I feel the benefits. This chick used to be that "fit person" - minus the 5 mile run cause your chick does not run unless Derek Luke is in front of me ready to quit his wife and live a happily ever after lifestyle between my thighs - that I described. I was between a size 8-10 depending on where I shopped. And I never felt those mythical endorphins. I forgot about how much I hated working out before I started. It's been a few weeks and my body is loving me now but God knows, I hate it with the fire  a thousand suns. 

Well, again, I'm probably over my word limit. If you haven't noticed, I'm long winded, like a preacher on Sunday morning after he had a REALLY bad week. I'm going to try to work on that. Peace out for now. Much love to all.

Meet Ashley Fayton!

In my first ever blog post, I want to say somethings that has steadily been on my mind. Hopefully, it'll help you understand a little about me. 
1. I am a Christian. But I'm also me. Beautifully, flawed me. I seek after God's face but I'm not there yet. Therefore, I curse sometimes, I act a fool sometimes and I do me sometimes. I guess someone would consider me a "Liberal Christian." I honestly don't care what you call me, but just keep it classy when you do call me. 
2. Fuck love! (That cursing happened quick didn't it?) Love just might be the greatest pimp/terrorist/hoe ever created. Forget money, the desire of love is the root of all evil.
I have a great respect for love. I want it more than anything I've ever wanted in life. It's the one constant prayer I have. While everyone else is on their knees Sunday morning asking God for a house, new car, more money; or for my less self-involved readers, better health, their son's salvation or a better understanding of Him, my happy ass is on my knees praying to God for my soul mate. I know, I know, I know. I should be happy by myself and blah blah blah blah blah. But if we're being real honest - and I plan to - I am happy with me, however, you can only love yourself so much before you want a man - or a woman, whatever floats your boat - next to you to share your triumphs and failures.
It's not a odd request but love is too busy whoring around with everybody else and they momma to come see about me. Love loves to give it up to ere'body on the block but me. It is the MOST frustrating thing in the world to be habitually single. To have that be as constant in everybody's lives be paying taxes, the Republican's screwing us over [pick any "us" you want. They're screwing you over if you're not a billionaire] and Ashley still ain't got a man. Ugh.
I do want to clear up a possible misconceptions; in frustrated not desperate. I've had offers over the years but I refuse to settle for anything less than someone who is fitted for me. If this blog bit is a continuous thing, maybe we'll find that person together. Well, I had a 800 word maximum here and no computer, just a cellphone, so I'm going to assume I exceeded my limited here.
There's more to me than what's on this paper. But that's what's on my mind tonight. Much love to all of y'all... Ashley Fayt
**the views expressed in the previously written essay do not express the views and opinions on Cheris Hodges or any affiliates of her group. So if you want to sue someone, sue me. I'm broke anyway. But you'll never be broke as long as I owe you. 

The Forbidden Man by Elle Wright, talk about the edge of a scandal!

THE FORBIDDEN MAN by Elle Wright (July 28, 2015; Forever Mass Market; The Edge of Scandal #1) In Love With the Wrong Man
Sydney Williams has forgiven her fiancé, Den, more times than she can count. But his latest betrayal just days before their wedding is too big to ignore. Shocking her friends and family, she calls off the engagement. She walks out on Den . . . and into the arms of his brother, Morgan.
Known as a player, Morgan Smith has secretly spent years fighting his feelings for Sydney. When Den's latest dirty deed leaves Sydney devastated, Morgan can't stop himself from coming to her rescue. What begins as friendship quickly escalates into all-consuming passion. Despite their intense connection, Sydney would rather deny her desire than come between brothers. But as Morgan is determined to make Sydney his, Den won't give her up without a fight . . .
Buy the book!Amazon B&NiBooks GooglePlay Kobo BAM
About the author:Born and raised in Southeast Michigan near Ann Arbor, Elle learned the importance of reading from her mother. It was also her mother who, later on in her life, gave Elle her first romance nove: Indigo by Beverly Jenkins. From that moment on, Elle became a fan of Ms. Jenkins for life and a lover of all things romance. An old journal she wrote back in college became her first book (which she still wants to publish one day).
Social Media Links:WebsiteFacebookTwitterGoodreads

Read an Excerpt: 

“Are you still feeling cold?” he asked, adjusting the heater and finishing off the contents of his flask.“Actually, I’m feeling pretty hot.” She jumped when he started coughing. “Are you okay?”He wiped his mouth. “I’m straight.”“You sure?” Syd studied his face as she smoothed her hand over his back.“Yeah.” He closed the flask and tucked it back into his pocket. “It’s the liquor.”“Huh?”“The bourbon.” He patted his pocket. “It’s making you hot.”“Somehow I doubt that,” she mumbled.“What?” he asked, leaning in closer.I doubt it’s the liquor. “Forget it. I’m cold again.” She burrowed into him.“You want me to make you hot?” he asked.Her eyes flashed to his and her lips parted.“I meant . . .” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.“Uh, I can turn the heat up.”“No.” She forced a smile and lowered her gaze. “It’s fine.”When his hand caressed her cheek, her eyes closed of their own volition. Time seemed to stand still. She felt his warm breath on her skin above her lips. “I think—”She dug her nails into his knee. “Maybe you should call Kent again. See where he is.”He slid his thumb down the side of her neck.She exhaled. So this is what Terry McMillan meant when she waited to exhale?  “Because this isn’t going anywhere good. You’re acting like you want to kiss me and I know that’s not true,” she joked.He clenched her hair in his hands and tugged gently.“How do you know that?”She searched his eyes. “Do you? I mean—do you want to?”“I do—and so many other things.”She let out a nervous giggle. “I think you’re feeling the effects of that gasoline you’re drinking, Morgan.”His gaze dropped to her mouth as his hand crept up her thigh and rested on her hip. She jumped in surprise when he squeezed. “Actually, I don’t believe I’m drunk enough,” he said. “At this point, I know exactly what I’m doing, which means I’d be held responsible for my actions.”Syd placed her hands on his stomach and felt his taut muscles tighten in response. “Den would kill you. So would Red.”Morgan traced her lips with his thumb. “It may be worth it. Let me . . .” Then, his mouth was on hers, drawing a low moan from her mouth. The simple touch of his lips to hers set off a fire in Syd that seemed to burn brighter and hotter with every second.She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck as he continued to assault her senses with his kisses. He slid his tongue across her bottom lip, demanding entrance, which she happily granted. She gripped a fistful of his hair as he pulled her onto his lap. He rocked into her, introducing her to his rock hard erection. She braced her other hand against the window as she grinded into him. He trailed hot, wet kisses down her throat and cupped her breasts in his hands. As his thumbs traced her nipples, she cried out and he captured her cry with his hot mouth.
Reluctantly, she tried to pull away, but he latched onto her bottom lip with his teeth and sucked. He obviously wasn’t ready for this to end . . . neither was she.

Wow! I'm a finalist for the Jessie Redmon Fauset Book Award

The case of Serena Williams and the body shaming of black women

The moment two black girls in white beads took over the tennis world, I was a Serena Williams fan. I love Venus too, but Serena is the younger sister and I can relate.
When you hear the word curvy, if you don't think of Serena, something ain't right in your head.

But after Serena's latest Wimbledon title all we hear about is her body is too manly and other (white) tennis players don't want to look like her. 

Williams, who will be vying for the Wimbledon title against Garbiñe Muguruza on Saturday, has large biceps and a mold-breaking muscular frame, which packs the power and athleticism that have dominated women’s tennis for years. Her rivals could try to emulate her physique, but most of them choose not to.

It's OK, because not only can they not look like Serena, they can't play like her either. 21 grand-slam singles titles and her fourth in a row, the problem isn't Serena's muscles, it's her dominance. People still can't get over this black woman from Compton winning on the court and in life. 

Historically white activities.
Nontraditional participants.
Serena Williams and Misty Copeland are the faces of their respective professions in the United States.
Williams is the face of American tennis (men’s and women’s), while Copeland is the face of American ballet. Both came from humble beginnings in California. Both took unique paths into their professions. Both faced historical, racial and occupational obstacles. Both have dealt with negative commentary about their anatomies.

And both have overcome every challenge along the way to reach the pinnacle of their vocations. In traditionally white professions. 

And the assets of black women don't become assets until they are on a woman of another color. Kim Kardashian, anyone?
Big butts became the thing when Jennifer Lopez burst on the scene. But shapely black women had been belittled because of their behinds for years.

In her classic 1984 book, When and Where I Enter - The Impact of Black Women on Race and Sex in America, Professor Paula Giddings argues that these “negative images of Black women had always made them vulnerable to sexual assault”. She cites the work of Philip A Bruce, a historian and son of a plantation owner who published The Plantation Negro as a Freeman in 1889. He wrote that black women who saw no “immorality in doing what nature prompts” were to blame for their own denigration. He also noted the “wantonness” of black women. ——The Guardian

I'm sure the wonderful Serena Williams is unbothered by this bull, but I am bothered. I'm fed up. I'm pissed off!
Either the media is saying black women are obese or manly. Hell, they talk about First Lady Michelle Obama because she wants to get kids moving and her arms have definition. And it's not just white folks.
Fat ass Jason Whitlock has the greasy covered gall to call Serena fat. Sir, have you looked in the mirror and stepped on a scale? How about this — you and the horse you rode in on.
Serena is flawless and if you don't like it, that's your issue!

Behind the story: Lisa Marie Perry and Cheris Hodges take you inside Blissful Summer

  

The Story Behind Blissful Summer with Cheris and Lisa Marie
Two exotic locations. Two couples about to discover the thrill of rekindled passion.
Make You Mine Again by Cheris Hodges
Supermodel Jansen Douglas is living her dream. Now a wedding in Paris is about to reunite her with the high school sweetheart she left behind. But Atlanta CEO Bradley Stephens won't let their stormy past stand in the way of reclaiming his first and only love.
Unraveled by Lisa Marie Perry
Ona Tracy's plans to seduce her high school crush unravel when the reunion trip she books turns out to be an erotic-themed cruise to the Bahamas! Rather than abandon ship, she recruits blond-haired, silver-eyed Riker Ewan to be her hookup, unaware that the hot-bodied ex-marine isn't who he seems to be…
The authors dish on what was the inspiration for these stories: Lisa Marie Perry: Q1: How did you come up with your main couples?
I knew from the start that I wanted to write an interracial couple who experience an instant attraction and connection. Ona is African American and Riker is Caucasian. In the past I've written interracial couples whose conflict has zero to do with racial and cultural details, but I wanted to give Ona and Riker a different journey. Ona is a quirky multitalented performer--and a liar. Riker is a Boston-bred ex-Marine and current blue-collar bartender--and also a liar. They end up aboard an erotic-themed cruise, each harboring secret agendas, and when they meet, lust binds them both and doesn't let go until their every vulnerability is exposed and every inhibition released.
Q2: What was the best part about writing your story?
Writing Ona and Riker's lust-at-first-sight romance was by far the best and most fun part of this experience. They are so sexy and dirty together and they do--and say--things that I absolutely would not.
Q3: Pick a favorite scene from your story and give the readers some background on what you did to create it?
Easy--Ona and Riker's first kiss! It's sensual and dramatic and exhilarating--at least to me. ;-) Enjoy.
Q4: How can readers get in contact with you?
I love hearing from readers. Visit me at www.perrytalebooks.com and also on Twitter (@PerryOrdinary).
            Cheris Hodges
Q1: How did you come up with your main couples?I love to see people who used to be in love discover that they still love each other. So, with Jansen and Bradley, I wanted to bring them together with each one of them thinking they didn’t have a chance. And a hero who thinks he has a chance to steal his one true love from another man is so much fun to create.
Q2: What was the best part about writing your story?I love Paris. I haven’t been yet, but I’ve done enough research on the city to feel as if I belong there. And Paris was the perfect setting to rekindle romance. So, aside from the romance between Jansen and Bradley, researching Paris was SO MUCH FUN!
Q3: Pick a favorite scene from your story and give the readers some background on what you did to create it? One of my favorite scenes in Make You Mine Again, has to be when Bradley tries to pretend seeing a picture of Jansen with her “fiance” doesn’t bother him. I tried to think of a certain ex of mine and I hope this would be his reaction when I showed up in a major publication on the arms of a fine famous man. I actually asked him how he would feel about. That clown laughed.
Q4: How can readers get in contact with you? I’m all over the Internet. Readers can visit my website: www.cherishodges.net, follow me on Twitter @cherishodges, follow my blog: www.cherishodges.blogspot.com and they can also get insight on Blissful Summer at www.blissfulsummerromance.wordpress.com

UNRAVELED Lisa Marie Perry excerpt (first kiss)
Exchanging the glasses for contact lenses, and trading the sweats for a black mesh bikini top with a bow and matching bottoms, Ona swept up her swim tote and joined Regan.            “That is not a bikini,” Regan accused. “It’s sheer.”            “Not completely. The bow hides the nipples and the bottoms are solid at the crotch and booty crack.”            Scoffing, Regan insisted, “I’m only considering your welfare.”            “You said that before.”            “Last night you were on Nicholas’s lap and now you’re going to be lounging around a pool wearing that in front of him? It’s an attention-getter.”            An attention-getter …  Perfect.            They’d gotten no farther than halfway down the hall before Cole Stanwyck nudged between them, securing his arms around their waists. “The two hottest women onboard. I would’ve been the king of PAAC if I had the pair of you keeping my arms full. Where are you headed?”            Ever the composed, cool one, Regan gave her deep gold curls a toss. “Cole, juvenile come-ons don’t affect me.”            “That hurts, Regan. Stilts, make it up to me.”            Hesitant to linger in his company, Ona at last said, “We’re going to the lower deck.”            The walk was uneventful, meaning Cole didn’t try to stick his hand between her legs, as he’d tried to when they were seniors at PAAC. Ona hadn’t realized she was sweating until the three of them arrived at the deck. What further concerned her was that she might’ve panicked had Regan Waltz not been there to protect her in a strange, accidental way.            “If you’re going to be sitting on anybody’s lap, let it be mine,” Cole said as he escorted Ona and Regan to the doors where two crewmembers stood by to offer assistance. “Nicholas didn’t book you for the entire trip, did he?”            Regan snapped, “Ona has someone, Cole, and it’s not Nicholas. She has someone else and they’re having plenty of sex. So can you please stop the bullshit?”            Ona and Cole froze as Regan untangled herself from his hold and started to stalk out on the pool deck ahead of them.            “Regan, wait,” Ona tried, craning her neck to see the woman through the people cutting across her line of vision.             Regan paused to accept a rolled cool towel and a bowl of fruit from a row of pool refreshment staff. “The only reason I’m not going to a champagne pool right now is because Rajon asked everyone to show up here,” she hollered to the pair. “I’m only doing this because I respect that man more than I’ll ever respect you, Cole.”            “Repressed bitch,” he sneered at Regan’s back.            Ona pushed against him. “Let me go. I will not listen to you call her that.”            “You don’t like her, and she sure as hell doesn’t like you.”            “That’s true. I’m not going to deny it. But I didn’t come to this deck to make alliances. I came to catch up with the group. Some of us want this to be a positive experience.”            Cole snatched his arm from her waist, and because she’d been struggling against him, she stumbled at the abrupt freedom. He made no move to steady her—not that she would’ve let him, anyway. “I’m positive you’ve been experiencing Nicholas Callaghan.”            “Think what you want,” she said, scanning the deck and finding roughly half of the group.            “If you’re with somebody, where is he?” Cole persisted.            Ona felt sweaty again, uncomfortably hot, but a cool towel or fruit or concoctions from the pool deck’s snazzy bar wouldn’t be of any relief. Stress sawed at her nerves, and she wanted to get away. “He’s …”            “Where, Ona?”            “He’s—” Ona’s gaze swung across the deck, and he was there. Not a made-up sex man or a man she could have a genuine relationship with, but Riker Ewan. One hand gripped a safety railing, the other held his phone, and taut muscles bulged across his arms and back. A gray T-shirt and athletic shorts today, and his dog tags were out, dangling from a simple silver chain. Sunglasses concealed his eyes, but she recognized him clearly. Her body had sensed his. “He’s there, on the phone.”            “I don’t believe you.” Cole said it calmly, as though he almost enjoyed cornering her and forcing her to face her own lies. “Admit you lied and I won’t have you embarrass yourself in front of the club.”            “Not that I owe you any explanation, Cole,” she served back, “but I’m not available and my marine probably won’t appreciate that I’ve had to tell you so many times. You need to leave me alone.”            For effect, she crossed the deck to Riker and took his phone from his hand. Disconnecting the call, she whispered solemnly, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Riker, but I need your help.”            A frown immediately creased his face. “It’s yours. What’s wrong?”            “You told me you’re at my service. If you meant what you said yesterday about pretending to be with me, kiss me.” Ona wrapped an arm around his shoulders, because she would start trembling if she didn’t hold on to something solid. So many men in her life had assumed that just because she was tall, seemed strong, she never needed support. Would Riker give her that?            “Are you sure about this, Ona?”            “Kiss me,” she said again. “Make it good. Make it so nothing and no one else on this deck exists.”            “Put my phone in my pocket,” he said calmly in her ear, his lip moving over the shell. “My hands are going to be on you and I’m not gonna take them off until we’re done here. And he’s going to envy me. He’s going to want to have this chance with you.”            Ona nodded because it was true, technically. To be further technical, it was Cole who’d envy Riker and who’d want this chance with her. She didn’t know what Nicholas wanted.            Riker took her in stages. Large hands grasped her hips, preparing her. Eyes that were simultaneously blue as ice and gray as smoke perused her. Beautiful, warm, hungry mouth claimed hers with a sudden force that had her head snapping back and her legs collapsing.            His teeth captured her lips one at a time, and his tongue tasted her. To have his strength wrapped around her … To have his firm mouth open to hers …            No one had ever said a kiss could void all sensation but arousal. It was a lesson she had to learn for herself as he held her and grinded. Moving against her like this, he spoke to her, admitted his desire and coaxed her to admit hers.             It didn’t feel like a first kiss. It was absent of expectation and curiosity and nervousness. There was just addictive pleasure.
Make You Mine Again By Cheris Hodges
 “I messed that up. I guess you’re going to get your happily ever after with that guy. Congratulations, Jansen. But how does he feel knowing you ditched him to find me?”“I didn’t come to find you. I see you still think the sun doesn’t rise until it hits your ass. You haven’t changed at all, have you?”“Oh. I’ve changed. And so have you.”“What’s that supposed to mean?”“You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”A heated blush filled her cheeks, crept down her neck and finally settled between her thighs. “It’s the make up and…”“No, Jansen, it’s you. You’ve always been gorgeous. Maybe I wasn’t ready to share you with the world. I should’ve been more supportive of what you wanted rather than thinking you should have hidden your light.”She shot him a blank look. “You wanted everything your way, how did that work out for you?”“I should probably thank you,” he said.“Thank me?”He nodded and took a sip of his drink, trying and failing not to look at her cleavage. “I realized that day that I can’t expect my woman to do everything I want her do. And though I thought the center meant as much to you as it did to me, I shouldn’t have made that assumption for you. I still believe with your brain, you could’ve done something more with your life. You could’ve been on the front line teaching these young girls the value of their lives.”She wondered if he even realized how saying that three years ago would’ve changed their lives. But right now, he sounded like a pompous jerk. Jansen rolled her eyes. “A little too late,” she said.“Better late than never. I’m also thankful for your generosity,” he said. “The donations that you make every year help us further our cause of helping families and victims of domestic violence.”“I loved your parents and what they stood for, I’m glad that I can help their legacy continue.”“You could’ve done a lot more if you stayed on the staff…”“You’re really going to start that again?”“No,” he said as he eased closer to her chair. “I’m going to start this.” He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her slow, deliberate and passionate. He slipped his hands between her thighs and a soft moan escaped her throat. Jansen trembled with anticipation, with longing. Inside, Bradley beamed knowing she still belonged to him. Still clamored for his touch as much as he yearned for her.Breaking the kiss, he looked into Jansen’s eyes.“Do you love him?”“What?” she asked, blinking rapidly.“Well, do you?”“Are you serious? You’re jealous of tabloid headlines?”“No, I’m just wondering what kind of man allows the woman he’s supposed to marry to walk the streets of Paris alone.  If you were my woman, I would never allow that to happen.”Jansen rose to her feet and glared at him. “Yeah, you’re the same as you’ve always been. Still want to be in control of everything. All men don’t think like you, thank God. Why don’t we just call it a life? There’s nothing else we need to say to one another.”Bradley stood up and closed the space between them. “There’s plenty to say,” he said. “I’ve never stopped loving you and—” He stroked her arm. “I can feel how much you want me, Jansen. So, forgive me if I don’t celebrate your engagement. And I’m not going to watch you marry a man that you may like, but don’t love.”“I am…” Bradley silenced her with a kiss that made her knees quiver. His tongue filled her mouth, reminding her that no one could kiss like Bradley, no one could find the way to her soul with a kiss. No one but Bradley. And when he pulled her against his hard body, she felt the throbbing of all of his muscles and melted against him. She wanted to peel her dress off and let him have his way with her. She wanted to go back to the days when she and Bradley woke up entwined in each other’s arms and the previous night’s passion became that morning’s desire.

Sorry, John we can't just watch TV

Dear John Schneider,

Do you mind if I call you John? Frankly I don't care if you do or don't. I grew up watching the Dukes of Hazzard because I had no choice. There were three channels, I was a kid and if my grandmother was watching TV you just watched it.


As I learned who General Lee was and what the flag on the top of your orange car meant, I started reading book rather than watch your show. I'm not going to lie, I do some times hop in my car through the window. But your flippant response to the way people feel about that flag is very telling.
Remember, you Tweeted this bull:

Earlier Wednesday, the actor tweeted a photo of Charleston terrorist Dylan Roof burning a U.S. flag while clad in a Gold’s Gym shirt, lest we forget that the ridiculous act of pulling The Dukes Of Hazzard off the air was perpetuated by nine people being murdered. “I am grossly offended by the flag burning. But…is the Gold’s Gym logo to be considered a symbol of racism as well now?,” Schneider asked. (To be fair, the Ku Klux Klan never waved the Gold’s Gym banner while instigating a lynching.) --Source Avclub.com

But hey, it's just TV? The image of the flag doesn't mean anything good for someone who looks like me. But it's in my face every damned day. I don't want to see it on your car as you play a good ol' boy running from the cops, when in real life, I have to worry if my nephew will get shot while jogging and a cop is around.
Let's be real, you're made about the royalties you won't be getting. You don't give a damn about what that flag represents. Just because the fictional character you played on TV wasn't "racist" it doesn't mean the KKK is following in your footsteps. And this quote from the Hollywood Reporter really speaks to your character.

Throwing this particular baby out with the bathwater seems reactionary and overly PC to me. If the flag was a symbol of racism, then Bo and Luke and Daisy and Uncle Jesse were a pack of wild racists, and that could not be further from the truth.”

What I hate about these people saying it's just TV is that you folks are acting as if this shit was ever OK. IT. WAS. NEVER. OK!

So, I'm sorry, John, we can't watch TV. If accusations pulled the Cosby Show off TV, a terrorist act in a historic black church is good reason to pull this off as well.

Don't you have a new show to promote anyway?
In other words, please have a seat.

Stand Your Ground: An important tale, a must read

There are few books that are as relevant to today's times as Victoria Christopher Murray's Stand You Ground. 
 Released today, this book takes you inside the family of a black young man shot and killed by a white man, who uses the controversial stand your ground law as his defense. What's unique about this story is that Murray shows both sides of this tragedy. The heartbreak and pain of Janice Johnson, Marquis's mother, flows from the pages and right into your heart. There are moments in this book where you will weep. I'm talking ugly cry. Janice is torn on the public protests surrounding her son's death. What is a mother to do when she's hurting and the public wants her to speak out? On the other side of the coin is the Spencer family. Meredith Spencer is married to the shooter, a wealthy white man who claims he was defending himself against Marquis. But Meredith knows more than she is brave enough to say about the deadly encounter. The Spencers have a team of lawyers who do everything to demonize the Johnsons and their son. Law and Order often boasts that its episodes are ripped from the headlines, but this book is well written and sad reminder of the headlines we see every day. Stand Your Ground is a don't miss novel! 
After reading this book, I had questions for Victoria and the writing process of this novel. I knew if reading it changed me, I could only imagine how writing it changed her. 
Stand Your Ground takes readers on an emotional rollercoaster. Tell me what it was like writing this story? 
I'm an author, yet, I don't think I have the words to describe what it was like writing this story. Everything that the reader experiences -- tears, fear, anger, sadness, grief...and even a few moments of joy, I went through over and over again. I went through it when I wrote the words the first time, I went through those emotions through each draft, and every edit. I was drained when I finished the book, but more than being drained, I was changed. After writing this book, I want to always write "important" books. I want to write books that have meaning. I hope from now on that I will write books that will do more than entertain.
Did writing this book change you or your views on these types of tragic events? 
The only change I think I can say that I experienced is that I did my best to write this book from both sides. I had to force myself to see the victims on the other side. That was a stretch for me at first, but then the journey became real and I could really see how both sides are affected. I just can't imagine being married to a man who killed someone -- even if he says it was self defense.
 How did your prepare yourself to tell this story? 
I didn't have to do much preparation. We'd all been living the events of these kinds of tragedies over and over and over and over...the only way I needed to prepare myself was to calm down. Seriously, over the past few years I'd become an Angry Black Woman, something that I'd never been. But I was so angry after hearing about how another person got away with murdering an unarmed teen boy. So, I had to take my emotions out of this and just "write the right story."
No one was perfect in this novel. Do you think that when events like this happen that the media expects the victim and his or her family to be perfect for the public to support them? 
Hmmm...that's an interesting question. I would hope that folks know that no one in this world is perfect. And I love writing about flawed people the best. People who are just like me. :-)
What’s next on the horizon for you?
Well...I said I wouldn't do it, but I'm gonna do it. One of my all time favorite novels of the over twenty that I've written is Joy. Joy was my second novel and it touched my life in so many ways. And what was best was that it touched a lot of readers.  I said I would never write a sequel...but I am. I don't have the title for the follow up yet, but it's told from two points of view -- a white man, a black woman who are connected by a child that was conceived during a rape. Now, the man is out of jail (he spent seven years in prison) he's having a difficult time reentering society. But he knows he has this daughter out there and he thinks getting to know her may help to make his life better. And then, the woman, Anya...she and her husband have never told their now fifteen-year-old daughter that she is the product of a rape. So once this man enters their lives once again....well...you can imagine the story. There are actually twenty states that allow parental rights to rapists -- can you believe that? I can't wait to really explore that story.
What's next for Victoria...
One black teen...one white man...one gun....
Stand Your Ground coming In Stores Now. #standyourgroundthenovelwww.victoriachristophermurray.comwww.browngirlsbooks.com

Dear ESPN: She is his wife! Respect that, jerks!

I have a special place in my heart for Stephen Curry and his family. See, I grew up watching his dad, Dell Curry, drop threes for the original Charlotte Hornets. I have a Dell Curry trading card. He was a member of the Hive Five. He was the man.

So, I've watched Stephen Curry grow up and take Davidson College on a Cinderella ride in the NCAA tournament. He's the kind of player that you want young kids to look up to, a family man, a classic man and who doesn't love his twin, little Riley Curry. 
And he's out here kicking LeBron James's ass. 
So, when I saw ESPN disrespect his wife, I was pissed. Ayesha Curry is Stephen's wife. The mother of his children, as she's expecting right now. She's been married to him for four years. They've been together for seven. A baby mama she is not. 
I don't hear ESPN calling white women baby mamas. Let's not pretend this wasn't a racial thing. Folks love saying that black women overreact to the way we are portrayed in the media. Well, damnit, we have a reason to! Everyone wants to paint sisters with the same damn stereotypical brush. I am sick of it. SportsCenter host John Buccigross, dude, you are not Stuart Scott, stop trying to live off his memory. You aren't funny and wives are not baby mamas. I'm sorry that your limited interaction with black folks hasn't allowed you to see families. You know, mom and dad are married. They're provided a stable home for the kids. 
Now, Tom Brady has a baby mama. But no one ever talks about that. I guess Stephen Curry is the black athlete that the media can't stand. He doesn't have drama, scandal or a bunch of baby mamas. He has a wife, a daughter who he loves and a baby on the way WITH HIS WIFE! 
I guess I'm expected too much from ESPN, a station where a talking pinhead can say a woman provkes domestic violence and nothing happens, but as soon as one white woman gets offended by something he said, then he's off the air. I'm glad I got rid of cable. 

Size does matter

When it comes to ordering clothes on the Internet, size does matter.
I order a bathing suit for the AC Arthur Beach Bash this July. While waiting for the suit to come back, I've been going to the gym and working out on the Wii.

So, my suit arrives today.
It's a UK 4X. DAMN, talk about a slap to the work out regime. Now, a 4X in London is a US 12 to 14.

On the other size of that, I ordered a Wonder Woman costume because I'm going to Heroes Convention in Charlotte with my BFF. I ordered a large and it is too big. I'm like WTH.

I guess I should stop buying clothes online. . .