Chicki Brown's Blog, page 20
February 14, 2015
New Release Showcase - LOVE AFTER WAR by Te' Russ
Today I am honored to showcase the brand new release from author Te' Russ. I am proud to say that Te' is a friend and a wonderful supporter of my books. Now I get the opportunity to support her!
About the Author:
Growing up an introvert, Té Russ found solace in literary arts at an early age. She found reading to be a vehicle to broader horizons and writing a form of self-expression. She began writing love stories in her adolescent years as a way to expel her youthful thoughts of love into words. Since then she has gone from writing stories and thoughts of love in journals to attending college for journalism and falling in love, which has allowed those youthful words of love to blossom into a series of stories in her romance novels. Though she has an immense appreciation for the sheer smell that books collectively exert, she also has found balance to her introverted nature with adrenaline inducing activities. So if she does not have her nose pressed deeply into a book or her pen ticking through a pad, you may also find this mother of three baking some tasty treats, jumping out of airplanes, cheering her husband on at the top of her lungs at MMA fights, buzzing down the interstate on the back of motorcycles, or kayaking.
You can contact her at any of the links below:
Facebook ProfileTwitterBlogEmail: terussnovels@gmail.com
About the book:
Connie and Drew have been butting heads since they were teenagers. With Connie refusing to talk about anything from their past, Drew has never figured out what made them go from friends to enemies.
Drew decides to finally get to the root of their lifelong feud when Connie ends up in Texas for a remodeling project. When the truth comes out, it just might bring out some feelings both of them have been refusing to acknowledge for over a decade.
Excerpt:
“What are we doing here Andrew?” Connie asked, annoyed. “This is where we’re having lunch,” he replied simply. “You still eat pizza don’t you?”They were standing in the waiting area of Uno Chicago Grill, simply known as Uno’s in the area. It looked a lot like a pizzeria they used to go to as kids in the summer in Galveston. She wondered if he’d brought her here on purpose. “Yes, I still eat pizza but–”“Great, here comes the hostess to sit us.”The lady barely looked at Connie; she was so busy eyeballing Drew. And flirting just a tad too much. “Can I get you anything to drink honey?” she cooed, while brushing her hand up and down his shoulder.“Constance?”“What?” she asked, tearing her glare away from the woman.He tried to hide the smirk on his face. “What would you like to drink?”“Iced tea. Sweet.”“I’ll have the same thing,” he said, never taking his eyes off of Connie. “Ice tea. Sweet.”“I’m sure it’s not as sweet as you.”“I’m hardly sweet,” he replied, causing the hostess to laugh a little too hysterically and all but throw herself into Drew’s lap.After she was done fawning over him, she sauntered off, with an exaggerated sway of her hips. Connie couldn’t wipe the scowl off of her face and Drew was about to say something when Miss Laughs-a-lot returned. “Joss will be your waitress today, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”Connie watched as the woman slipped a piece of paper down in front of him. She rolled her eyes as the woman walked away.“Unbelievable,” Connie murmured.“What is?”“That... woman. She was throwing herself all over you Andrew.”He shrugged. “I suppose she was a little flirty.”Connie laughed. “A little flirty? Andrew please! She was two seconds away from giving you a lap dance right in front of me. And she didn’t acknowledge me once. It was as if I wasn’t even here. For all she knew I could have been your date or girlfriend, but she didn’t care.”“But you do?” Drew asked, with a raised eyebrow.“Excuse me?”“Well, you’re not my girlfriend. And technically this isn’t a date, just lunch. So why do you care if some hostess flirts with me?”“You are completely incorrigible! It’s simply rude of her to flirt with a man in front of lady company. And it’s just bad customer service to ignore patrons. Besides that, I don’t care who flirts with you or whom you flirt with.”“Ah but that’s the thing! I didn’t flirt with her. In fact, if I recall, I never took my eyes off of you.”Connie opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t because he was right. Drew seemed to have barely to noticed the hostess.“Well–”“If I didn’t know any better, Barb, I’d say you were jealous.”He watched as the color rose up her neck and filled her cheeks. “Andrew McAllister, I am notjealous of some floozy hitting on you!”He chuckled, and then said, “‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks!’”She scoffed. “Quoting Hamlet does not make you cute.”“So what doesmake me cute?” he asked, his voice filled with a hint of intrigue.Connie threw a napkin at him and he laughed out loud.Joss, the waitress, showed up then and took their food orders. She was clearly a young girl, probably a college student and was completely enamored with Drew as well. Thankfully, she wasn’t shameless like the hostess. The poor girl could barely speak. She kept looking at Connie and stealing glances toward Drew, as if he were the sun and just too bright to look at directly.Drew ordered for them remembering exactly how Connie liked her pizza. Another thing from their past, she’d thought. But she let it slide this time, because the poor girl nearly knocked over their glasses of iced tea. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to them both.“It’s all right,” he said to her.Connie nodded. “Don’t worry honey, no harm done.”The girl scuffled off to put in their orders and Connie couldn’t help but laugh.“The great Andrew McAllister, turning women all over the place into crazed fools.”“Except you,” he said sarcastically.If only you knew, she thought.“I’m not the only one causing trouble in here,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.“What in the world are you talking about?”“The man sitting at the table behind you, at your five o’clock...”Connie used the excuse of tucking her hair behind her ear to glance over her shoulder and caught a man averting his eyes from their direction.“He’s been staring at your legs, since you walked past him.”“What? That’s ridicu–”“The man at the table behind me, at your two o’clock.. .”
He waited for her to glance over his shoulder and then look back at him.
Books available on Amazon
About the Author:
Growing up an introvert, Té Russ found solace in literary arts at an early age. She found reading to be a vehicle to broader horizons and writing a form of self-expression. She began writing love stories in her adolescent years as a way to expel her youthful thoughts of love into words. Since then she has gone from writing stories and thoughts of love in journals to attending college for journalism and falling in love, which has allowed those youthful words of love to blossom into a series of stories in her romance novels. Though she has an immense appreciation for the sheer smell that books collectively exert, she also has found balance to her introverted nature with adrenaline inducing activities. So if she does not have her nose pressed deeply into a book or her pen ticking through a pad, you may also find this mother of three baking some tasty treats, jumping out of airplanes, cheering her husband on at the top of her lungs at MMA fights, buzzing down the interstate on the back of motorcycles, or kayaking.
You can contact her at any of the links below:
Facebook ProfileTwitterBlogEmail: terussnovels@gmail.com
About the book:
Connie and Drew have been butting heads since they were teenagers. With Connie refusing to talk about anything from their past, Drew has never figured out what made them go from friends to enemies.
Drew decides to finally get to the root of their lifelong feud when Connie ends up in Texas for a remodeling project. When the truth comes out, it just might bring out some feelings both of them have been refusing to acknowledge for over a decade.
Excerpt:
“What are we doing here Andrew?” Connie asked, annoyed. “This is where we’re having lunch,” he replied simply. “You still eat pizza don’t you?”They were standing in the waiting area of Uno Chicago Grill, simply known as Uno’s in the area. It looked a lot like a pizzeria they used to go to as kids in the summer in Galveston. She wondered if he’d brought her here on purpose. “Yes, I still eat pizza but–”“Great, here comes the hostess to sit us.”The lady barely looked at Connie; she was so busy eyeballing Drew. And flirting just a tad too much. “Can I get you anything to drink honey?” she cooed, while brushing her hand up and down his shoulder.“Constance?”“What?” she asked, tearing her glare away from the woman.He tried to hide the smirk on his face. “What would you like to drink?”“Iced tea. Sweet.”“I’ll have the same thing,” he said, never taking his eyes off of Connie. “Ice tea. Sweet.”“I’m sure it’s not as sweet as you.”“I’m hardly sweet,” he replied, causing the hostess to laugh a little too hysterically and all but throw herself into Drew’s lap.After she was done fawning over him, she sauntered off, with an exaggerated sway of her hips. Connie couldn’t wipe the scowl off of her face and Drew was about to say something when Miss Laughs-a-lot returned. “Joss will be your waitress today, but if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”Connie watched as the woman slipped a piece of paper down in front of him. She rolled her eyes as the woman walked away.“Unbelievable,” Connie murmured.“What is?”“That... woman. She was throwing herself all over you Andrew.”He shrugged. “I suppose she was a little flirty.”Connie laughed. “A little flirty? Andrew please! She was two seconds away from giving you a lap dance right in front of me. And she didn’t acknowledge me once. It was as if I wasn’t even here. For all she knew I could have been your date or girlfriend, but she didn’t care.”“But you do?” Drew asked, with a raised eyebrow.“Excuse me?”“Well, you’re not my girlfriend. And technically this isn’t a date, just lunch. So why do you care if some hostess flirts with me?”“You are completely incorrigible! It’s simply rude of her to flirt with a man in front of lady company. And it’s just bad customer service to ignore patrons. Besides that, I don’t care who flirts with you or whom you flirt with.”“Ah but that’s the thing! I didn’t flirt with her. In fact, if I recall, I never took my eyes off of you.”Connie opened her mouth to argue, but she couldn’t because he was right. Drew seemed to have barely to noticed the hostess.“Well–”“If I didn’t know any better, Barb, I’d say you were jealous.”He watched as the color rose up her neck and filled her cheeks. “Andrew McAllister, I am notjealous of some floozy hitting on you!”He chuckled, and then said, “‘The lady doth protest too much, methinks!’”She scoffed. “Quoting Hamlet does not make you cute.”“So what doesmake me cute?” he asked, his voice filled with a hint of intrigue.Connie threw a napkin at him and he laughed out loud.Joss, the waitress, showed up then and took their food orders. She was clearly a young girl, probably a college student and was completely enamored with Drew as well. Thankfully, she wasn’t shameless like the hostess. The poor girl could barely speak. She kept looking at Connie and stealing glances toward Drew, as if he were the sun and just too bright to look at directly.Drew ordered for them remembering exactly how Connie liked her pizza. Another thing from their past, she’d thought. But she let it slide this time, because the poor girl nearly knocked over their glasses of iced tea. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to them both.“It’s all right,” he said to her.Connie nodded. “Don’t worry honey, no harm done.”The girl scuffled off to put in their orders and Connie couldn’t help but laugh.“The great Andrew McAllister, turning women all over the place into crazed fools.”“Except you,” he said sarcastically.If only you knew, she thought.“I’m not the only one causing trouble in here,” he said, interrupting her thoughts.“What in the world are you talking about?”“The man sitting at the table behind you, at your five o’clock...”Connie used the excuse of tucking her hair behind her ear to glance over her shoulder and caught a man averting his eyes from their direction.“He’s been staring at your legs, since you walked past him.”“What? That’s ridicu–”“The man at the table behind me, at your two o’clock.. .”
He waited for her to glance over his shoulder and then look back at him.
Books available on Amazon
February 8, 2015
Sample Sunday Excerpt - Feb. 8, 2015
Today I'm sharing an excerpt from my latest release, Don't Stop Till You Get Enough. Thanks to my wonderful, faithful readers, the book is doing very well. If you haven't read it yet, here's a short blurb:
Greg Stafford has been hiding an explosive secret for years. When his secret is exposed, he is ashamed and humiliated.
Rhani Drake is an expert at helping people uncover the root of their problems. But when Greg Stafford enters her life, she doesn’t know how to handle the feelings he uncovers in her.
Will his scandal destroy her career and credibility?
Rhani Drake rearranged the chairs in her office in preparation for her new client. She alw.ays made sure there was plenty of personal space for both her and her client. The appointment with her first celebrity client had been made a few days ago by Thad Jones, a lawyer she’d met years ago at a networking event. He explained the particulars of his client’s arrest, the mandated therapy, and the importance of confidentiality, as though a licensed therapist wouldn’t already know.She walked around the office giving the small room where she counseled her clients a critical scan. Rhani liked to think of it as cozy. When she’d opened the office two years ago, she had paid close attention to the décor and the feeling it might give those who came in. The addition of unlit scented candles, plush pillows and soft lighting helped to give the room a secure, intimate atmosphere. After she filled the carafe with cold water and placed it on the table in front of the sofa, she checked the tissue box on the end table then glanced at her watch again. His appointment was scheduled for 3:30. Why did she feel so nervous? Greg Stafford wasn’t a Hollywood movie star or anything. Quite possibly her jitters had to do with the fact that she watched The Scoop every night while she ate dinner. The show’s unusually handsome host had a smile capable of melting the hardest woman’s heart. But his looks were of no consequence. He was coming to her for help with a serious problem. She couldn’t allow his celebrity or physical appearance to cause her to treat him any differently than she would any other client struggling with a sexual addiction. At 3:25, Rhani turned the small shelf sound system to its normal, barely-audible volume. Soft instrumental music always helped clients to relax. Since Thad mentioned Mr. Stafford’s therapy had been ordered by his employer, he might very well be there under duress.
The gentle chime on the front door sounded, and Rhani waited until her receptionist escorted him into the office. Before her stood one of the best looking men she had ever seen, which was quite an accomplishment in a city the size of New York.“Mr. Stafford? Rhani Drake. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands, and she mentally chastised herself for the prickling sensation running across her skin when their flesh touched. She had seen him numerous times on TV, yet meeting him in person was a jolt to her senses. The first thing she noticed was his height. He towered over her five-feet-six inches. His scent registered with her senses next. The cologne he wore had a luxurious, spicy fragrance--a mix of grass, cloves, jasmine and some other delicious scents. Dressed casually yet stylishly, his appearance came across as easy-going and self-confident.Rhani glanced up just in time to catch his questioning expression.“Is there something wrong?”He removed his hat but kept the shades on. “No. It’s just…I expected you to be older.”For some reason, hearing this pleased her. “Is my age a problem? I assure you I am well-qualified.” Rhani pointed to her framed diplomas on the office wall then waved a hand toward the sofa. “Please have a seat.”He sat with his long legs open, his elbows on his knees and studied the room for a long moment. “Nice office.” The emotionless tone of his voice didn’t convey his appreciation.“Thank you.” Once she settled into the chair at the end of the sofa, she crossed her legs and rested her notebook on one knee. “Tell me why you’re here.”He flashed the dazzling smile she’d seen on the TV screen so many times. Her stomach flipped, and she wanted to slap herself. “You already know why. I’m sure Thad told you when he made the appointment.” Annoyed by her sensual reaction to his presence, Rhani purposely didn’t return his smile. “He did, but I’d like to hear your take on the situation. And do you mind taking off the sunglasses? I like to make eye contact with my clients.”He poked out his lips, moved them from side to side then pulled off the shades and put them in his shirt pocket. “I got arrested for…having sex in public, which in addition to being against the law, also constitutes breaking the morals clause in my contract. In order to keep my job, I have to attend counseling for a minimum of three months.”“Is that the only reason you’re here?”“Excuse me?” He met her gaze for the first time since he’d arrived, and she had to look away. His light eyes were evident on television, but looking into them in person was a different story. They were hazel—an intriguing combination of several other colors including green and brown with less melanin than brown eyes, but more than blue. Why would she even be thinking about this at the moment? Rhani blinked, straightened and returned to her questioning. “Did you come to counseling to keep your job or to deal with the reason the therapy was ordered to begin with?”A muscle ticked in his jaw, a square jaw covered by a smooth, neatly trimmed beard. “I need my job.” His voice deepened in timbre and intensity.“I think you’ve answered my question. You’re saying you don’t want to be here.”He gave an insolent shrug.
Kindle – http://amzn.to/1D2ILjaNook – http://bit.ly/1JIsdkS
Greg Stafford has been hiding an explosive secret for years. When his secret is exposed, he is ashamed and humiliated.
Rhani Drake is an expert at helping people uncover the root of their problems. But when Greg Stafford enters her life, she doesn’t know how to handle the feelings he uncovers in her.
Will his scandal destroy her career and credibility?
Rhani Drake rearranged the chairs in her office in preparation for her new client. She alw.ays made sure there was plenty of personal space for both her and her client. The appointment with her first celebrity client had been made a few days ago by Thad Jones, a lawyer she’d met years ago at a networking event. He explained the particulars of his client’s arrest, the mandated therapy, and the importance of confidentiality, as though a licensed therapist wouldn’t already know.She walked around the office giving the small room where she counseled her clients a critical scan. Rhani liked to think of it as cozy. When she’d opened the office two years ago, she had paid close attention to the décor and the feeling it might give those who came in. The addition of unlit scented candles, plush pillows and soft lighting helped to give the room a secure, intimate atmosphere. After she filled the carafe with cold water and placed it on the table in front of the sofa, she checked the tissue box on the end table then glanced at her watch again. His appointment was scheduled for 3:30. Why did she feel so nervous? Greg Stafford wasn’t a Hollywood movie star or anything. Quite possibly her jitters had to do with the fact that she watched The Scoop every night while she ate dinner. The show’s unusually handsome host had a smile capable of melting the hardest woman’s heart. But his looks were of no consequence. He was coming to her for help with a serious problem. She couldn’t allow his celebrity or physical appearance to cause her to treat him any differently than she would any other client struggling with a sexual addiction. At 3:25, Rhani turned the small shelf sound system to its normal, barely-audible volume. Soft instrumental music always helped clients to relax. Since Thad mentioned Mr. Stafford’s therapy had been ordered by his employer, he might very well be there under duress.
The gentle chime on the front door sounded, and Rhani waited until her receptionist escorted him into the office. Before her stood one of the best looking men she had ever seen, which was quite an accomplishment in a city the size of New York.“Mr. Stafford? Rhani Drake. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands, and she mentally chastised herself for the prickling sensation running across her skin when their flesh touched. She had seen him numerous times on TV, yet meeting him in person was a jolt to her senses. The first thing she noticed was his height. He towered over her five-feet-six inches. His scent registered with her senses next. The cologne he wore had a luxurious, spicy fragrance--a mix of grass, cloves, jasmine and some other delicious scents. Dressed casually yet stylishly, his appearance came across as easy-going and self-confident.Rhani glanced up just in time to catch his questioning expression.“Is there something wrong?”He removed his hat but kept the shades on. “No. It’s just…I expected you to be older.”For some reason, hearing this pleased her. “Is my age a problem? I assure you I am well-qualified.” Rhani pointed to her framed diplomas on the office wall then waved a hand toward the sofa. “Please have a seat.”He sat with his long legs open, his elbows on his knees and studied the room for a long moment. “Nice office.” The emotionless tone of his voice didn’t convey his appreciation.“Thank you.” Once she settled into the chair at the end of the sofa, she crossed her legs and rested her notebook on one knee. “Tell me why you’re here.”He flashed the dazzling smile she’d seen on the TV screen so many times. Her stomach flipped, and she wanted to slap herself. “You already know why. I’m sure Thad told you when he made the appointment.” Annoyed by her sensual reaction to his presence, Rhani purposely didn’t return his smile. “He did, but I’d like to hear your take on the situation. And do you mind taking off the sunglasses? I like to make eye contact with my clients.”He poked out his lips, moved them from side to side then pulled off the shades and put them in his shirt pocket. “I got arrested for…having sex in public, which in addition to being against the law, also constitutes breaking the morals clause in my contract. In order to keep my job, I have to attend counseling for a minimum of three months.”“Is that the only reason you’re here?”“Excuse me?” He met her gaze for the first time since he’d arrived, and she had to look away. His light eyes were evident on television, but looking into them in person was a different story. They were hazel—an intriguing combination of several other colors including green and brown with less melanin than brown eyes, but more than blue. Why would she even be thinking about this at the moment? Rhani blinked, straightened and returned to her questioning. “Did you come to counseling to keep your job or to deal with the reason the therapy was ordered to begin with?”A muscle ticked in his jaw, a square jaw covered by a smooth, neatly trimmed beard. “I need my job.” His voice deepened in timbre and intensity.“I think you’ve answered my question. You’re saying you don’t want to be here.”He gave an insolent shrug.
Kindle – http://amzn.to/1D2ILjaNook – http://bit.ly/1JIsdkS
February 5, 2015
New release showcase - Ain’t Nobody by Adrienne Thompson
I am pleased to feature Ain't Nobody, the new novel penned by my buddy, Adrienne Thompson. Adrienne and I met online, and I was so impressed by her determination and drive to become an independent author. Her publishing story is so inspirational, and you can read it in the expanded bio on her blog.
About The Book:
Genre: African American Women’s Fiction/ Interracial-Multicultural RomanceRelease Date: January 27, 2015
Blurb:
With her biological clock ticking like a time bomb, Alex Weaver issues her long-time commitment-phobic boyfriend an ultimatum. Soon, things are back on track and Alex is well on her way to her “happily ever after.” That is, until she makes a discovery that rocks her to her core. When Alex decides to take control of her future, she begins to make some life-altering decisions that set her on the path of fulfilling her goal of having a family. But will she be able to deal with the consequences?
Excerpt:
I was sitting in my mother’s living room enjoying our weekly visit when she decided to ruin it for me.
“He calls me every day. Sounds like he’s crying half the time,” she said out of the blue.
“Who?” I asked as I picked up a People magazine from the coffee table and studied the cover like I was going to be quizzed on it later.
“You know who. When you gon’ make up with him?”
“I’m not. We’re over.”
Mama leaned forward in her recliner and shook her finger at me. “A man is hard to come by—especially one with a job. He ain’t got no kids and he’s got his own place. I don’t know what else you could want, Alex.”
I turned my head towards the TV which was playing a Tyler Perry DVD with the volume muted. “Commitment.”
“Ain’t y’all engaged?”
“Yes, but if I leave it up to Quincy, we’ll be engaged forever. I mean, by the time you were my age, you’d already been married twice. Farrah’s younger than me and she’s already been married and divorced. And look at Gwin. She’s been married forever. I just want my chance to have a family.”
Mama frowned. “Well, hell, ain’t none of that worth bragging about. Farrah’s divorced, I’ve been married twice, and Gwin’s husband won’t even go to church with her. What kind of marriage is that? I don’t know what you think marriage is, but let me be the first to tell you, it ain’t no fairy tale. It’s a bunch of work. Sometimes it’s worth the trouble and sometimes it’s not. But one thing’s for sure, you ain’t gon’ get no closer to marrying the man by quitting him. That just don’t make no sense to me.”
I sighed. “Mama, I really don’t want to discuss this.” I pointed to the TV. “Which one is this? I Can Do Bad All By Myself?”
“Naw, Diary of a Mad Black Woman. Alex, you’re making a mistake.”
Before I could answer, I heard the front door open and close and seconds later, my younger sister, Farrah, walked in wearing tight jeans and a tank top. She was six years my junior and she was gorgeous. She was petite with the smoothest brown skin and I’d literally kill for her body. She’d already had one husband, two kids, and two baby daddies, but she looked like she was still in high school.
“Hey, y’all,” she said as she plopped down on the sofa next to me. “Where the kids?”
“They in the family room playing one of those video games,” Mama said.
“Well, can they stay here tonight? I got some stuff I need to do,” Farrah asked.
“Someone you need to do,” I said under my breath.
“I heard that, Alex. Don’t hate on me just because you ain’t got no man. Oh, that’s right, you had one but you threw him away,” Farrah countered.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you worry about raising your kids and stop leaving them on Mama all the time,” I said through my teeth.
“That’s enough!” Mama shouted. We were all startled by the ringing of the doorbell.
“I’ll get it,” I said. I cut my eyes at Farrah as I headed to the front door. Mama shook her head as I passed by her. I opened the door and wanted to scream. Mama had planned this and I knew it. Standing on the other side of the door was Quincy.
“Mama! I think you have company!” I yelled as Quincy stood there and stared at me.
“No, I don’t. That’s your company,” she called back.
I rolled my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know why Mama did this. What is it, Q?”
He smiled. “You’re the only person that calls me that, you know?”
“Then I’ll stop.”
He dropped the smile and his shoulders. Quincy Wright was a nice-looking man. He was tall and husky with pale brown skin. His moustache and goatee were always neatly trimmed as was his thick hair, and he always smelled like Armani Code. He looked so good standing there in his business suit that I had to fight to stay in character. Oh, yeah. Did I mention he’s a lawyer and a successful one, at that? Yeah, I know.
“Alex, why won’t you talk to me?” he asked.
“Because I’m done, Quincy.”
“Can you tell me exactly what I’ve done to deserve this?”
I glanced behind me. I really didn’t want Farrah and Mama any deeper in my business than they already were. “Let’s step outside.” I closed the door and sat down on one of the resin chairs on Mama’s porch. Quincy sat down beside me. “Quincy, do you love me, I mean really love me?”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“And you like being with me?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Then why won’t you marry me?”
Link to Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/RqJrao7MZhMLink to Book Soundtrack: http://ow.ly/HTy53
Purchase Links: Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RW1VDFQ Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00RW1VDFQ Nook: http://ow.ly/I14bq Kobo: http://ow.ly/I14AL
Author Bio:
Adrienne Thompson has worn many titles in her lifetime–from teenage mother to teenage wife to divorcee to registered nurse to author. This mother of two young adults and one teenager currently resides in Arkansas with her daughter where she writes and publishes her stories, stories from the soul… for the soul, full time.
You can connect with her at:
Website: http://adriennethompsonwrites.webs.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/AdrienneThompsonWrites Twitter: https://twitter.com/A_H_ThompsonInstagram: http://instagram.com/ahthompsn/ Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/ahthompsn/Tumblr: http://authoradriennethompson.tumblr.com/YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/muusikluvver
About The Book:
Genre: African American Women’s Fiction/ Interracial-Multicultural RomanceRelease Date: January 27, 2015
Blurb:
With her biological clock ticking like a time bomb, Alex Weaver issues her long-time commitment-phobic boyfriend an ultimatum. Soon, things are back on track and Alex is well on her way to her “happily ever after.” That is, until she makes a discovery that rocks her to her core. When Alex decides to take control of her future, she begins to make some life-altering decisions that set her on the path of fulfilling her goal of having a family. But will she be able to deal with the consequences?
Excerpt:
I was sitting in my mother’s living room enjoying our weekly visit when she decided to ruin it for me.
“He calls me every day. Sounds like he’s crying half the time,” she said out of the blue.
“Who?” I asked as I picked up a People magazine from the coffee table and studied the cover like I was going to be quizzed on it later.
“You know who. When you gon’ make up with him?”
“I’m not. We’re over.”
Mama leaned forward in her recliner and shook her finger at me. “A man is hard to come by—especially one with a job. He ain’t got no kids and he’s got his own place. I don’t know what else you could want, Alex.”
I turned my head towards the TV which was playing a Tyler Perry DVD with the volume muted. “Commitment.”
“Ain’t y’all engaged?”
“Yes, but if I leave it up to Quincy, we’ll be engaged forever. I mean, by the time you were my age, you’d already been married twice. Farrah’s younger than me and she’s already been married and divorced. And look at Gwin. She’s been married forever. I just want my chance to have a family.”
Mama frowned. “Well, hell, ain’t none of that worth bragging about. Farrah’s divorced, I’ve been married twice, and Gwin’s husband won’t even go to church with her. What kind of marriage is that? I don’t know what you think marriage is, but let me be the first to tell you, it ain’t no fairy tale. It’s a bunch of work. Sometimes it’s worth the trouble and sometimes it’s not. But one thing’s for sure, you ain’t gon’ get no closer to marrying the man by quitting him. That just don’t make no sense to me.”
I sighed. “Mama, I really don’t want to discuss this.” I pointed to the TV. “Which one is this? I Can Do Bad All By Myself?”
“Naw, Diary of a Mad Black Woman. Alex, you’re making a mistake.”
Before I could answer, I heard the front door open and close and seconds later, my younger sister, Farrah, walked in wearing tight jeans and a tank top. She was six years my junior and she was gorgeous. She was petite with the smoothest brown skin and I’d literally kill for her body. She’d already had one husband, two kids, and two baby daddies, but she looked like she was still in high school.
“Hey, y’all,” she said as she plopped down on the sofa next to me. “Where the kids?”
“They in the family room playing one of those video games,” Mama said.
“Well, can they stay here tonight? I got some stuff I need to do,” Farrah asked.
“Someone you need to do,” I said under my breath.
“I heard that, Alex. Don’t hate on me just because you ain’t got no man. Oh, that’s right, you had one but you threw him away,” Farrah countered.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. Why don’t you worry about raising your kids and stop leaving them on Mama all the time,” I said through my teeth.
“That’s enough!” Mama shouted. We were all startled by the ringing of the doorbell.
“I’ll get it,” I said. I cut my eyes at Farrah as I headed to the front door. Mama shook her head as I passed by her. I opened the door and wanted to scream. Mama had planned this and I knew it. Standing on the other side of the door was Quincy.
“Mama! I think you have company!” I yelled as Quincy stood there and stared at me.
“No, I don’t. That’s your company,” she called back.
I rolled my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know why Mama did this. What is it, Q?”
He smiled. “You’re the only person that calls me that, you know?”
“Then I’ll stop.”
He dropped the smile and his shoulders. Quincy Wright was a nice-looking man. He was tall and husky with pale brown skin. His moustache and goatee were always neatly trimmed as was his thick hair, and he always smelled like Armani Code. He looked so good standing there in his business suit that I had to fight to stay in character. Oh, yeah. Did I mention he’s a lawyer and a successful one, at that? Yeah, I know.
“Alex, why won’t you talk to me?” he asked.
“Because I’m done, Quincy.”
“Can you tell me exactly what I’ve done to deserve this?”
I glanced behind me. I really didn’t want Farrah and Mama any deeper in my business than they already were. “Let’s step outside.” I closed the door and sat down on one of the resin chairs on Mama’s porch. Quincy sat down beside me. “Quincy, do you love me, I mean really love me?”
“Of course I do. You know that.”
“And you like being with me?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“Then why won’t you marry me?”
Link to Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/RqJrao7MZhMLink to Book Soundtrack: http://ow.ly/HTy53
Purchase Links: Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RW1VDFQ Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00RW1VDFQ Nook: http://ow.ly/I14bq Kobo: http://ow.ly/I14AL
Author Bio:
Adrienne Thompson has worn many titles in her lifetime–from teenage mother to teenage wife to divorcee to registered nurse to author. This mother of two young adults and one teenager currently resides in Arkansas with her daughter where she writes and publishes her stories, stories from the soul… for the soul, full time.
You can connect with her at:
Website: http://adriennethompsonwrites.webs.comFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/AdrienneThompsonWrites Twitter: https://twitter.com/A_H_ThompsonInstagram: http://instagram.com/ahthompsn/ Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/ahthompsn/Tumblr: http://authoradriennethompson.tumblr.com/YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/muusikluvver
January 28, 2015
It's live!
It's RELEASE DAY! DON’T STOP TILL YOU GET ENOUGH, Book Three in the Stafford Brothers series, is live. An explosive secret. A forbidden relationship. $2.99
http://amzn.to/1D2ILja
http://amzn.to/1D2ILja
January 27, 2015
On the road again!
I am so excited! Don't Stop Till You Get Enough releases TOMORROW, and my blog tour starts the next day. At each stop I'll be giving away a copy of the book, so if you follow me to each of the stops and leave a comment, you just might win one.
Thanks to all my author peeps for hosting me. You guys rock!
JANUARY
28 – Release day!29 – with M.J. Kane - http://mjkanemedia.com/30 – with Nia Forrester - http://niaforrester.com/
FEBRUARY
2 – with Adrienne Thompson - http://adriennethompsonwrites.webs.com/apps/blog/ 4 – with Stella Ajanaku - http://flirtyandfeistyromance.blogspot.com/ 6 – with Love Belvin - https://lovebelvin.wordpress.com/ 9 – with Deatri King-Bey - http://deatrikingbey.com/ 11 – with James Fant - https://jamesfantbooks.wordpress.com/13 – with Lyssa Lane - http://lyssalayne.wordpress.com17 – with Chelle Ramsey - http://lyssalayne.wordpress.com19 – with Bettye Griffin - http://www.chew-the-fat-with-bettye.blogspot.com/23 – with Zee Monodee - http://zeemonodee.blogspot.com/ o 25 – with Te’ Russ - http://www.terussnovels.blogspot.com/
January 23, 2015
Release date!
Wednesday, January 28th is release day for
Don't Stop Till You Get Enough
! Greg is itching to tell his story...
https://www.facebook.com/StaffordBrothersNovels
https://www.facebook.com/StaffordBrothersNovels
January 17, 2015
Preparing for the promo parade
I finished Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough and submitted it to my editor last Saturday! Since I only had a week before she sent it back to me, I spent last week getting my promo plans in order.
If you are an author, you’ve probably heard the scuttlebutt about Facebook changing their rules about promotion in 2015. So far I haven’t seen any change, but I suppose it’s on the way. Many authors are reconsidering the time they spend on social networks, and I’m one of them. Facebook has been very good to me in the past. I absolutely love the social interaction there. Twitter has a wonderful literary community too. Since I got on the Google+ train late, my books are still gathering steam there. But, if I am going to get much needed exposure elsewhere, I need to spend less time in other place where readers hang out.
One of my decisions for this year is to get more exposure on book web sites, book promo sites and with book bloggers. For the past two years, I’ve been filling a folder with the home pages of these sites when run across them. The folder is two inches thick, and needless to say, it needs some kind of organization in order to be helpful. Gradually I’ve been going to each site, entering the pertinent info into a chart so I can discard the folder and simply work from the chart-time consuming to say the least, but it must be done.
This phase isn't all grunt work, though. The fun part was creating photo promos like these for the book.
I have a few more to make this weekend. Next week I'll be busy typing in the editor's changes, formatting the Word document and uploading it to the different retailers. Hopefully, it will go live by the end of the month...
January 15, 2015
Back and better than ever!
Announcing the re-release of
Have You Seen Her?
, the Shades of Romance Magazine 2011 Fiction Book of the Year. It has a beautiful new cover and has been re-edited.
If you’ve never read this contemporary romance with 52 four/five-star reviews, find out why Santa Barbara socialite Dani Reynolds left wealth and privilege for a minimum wage job and a ghetto apartment. It’s on sale now for $1.99!
Kindle - http://amzn.to/ixHNZI Coming soon to Nook and Kobo.
If you’ve never read this contemporary romance with 52 four/five-star reviews, find out why Santa Barbara socialite Dani Reynolds left wealth and privilege for a minimum wage job and a ghetto apartment. It’s on sale now for $1.99!
Kindle - http://amzn.to/ixHNZI Coming soon to Nook and Kobo.
January 12, 2015
New Release Spotlight - The Bad Poet
Today I am spotlighting the brand new release from an old friend, Michael Fuller.
I met Mike ten years ago at Barnes & Noble. As an aspiring writer, he joined the writer's group I led at the store in 2004. Our group stayed together until 2007, and I am so proud to say that since then, Mike has published C hronicles of a Nappi Head , and can be found in Proverbs for the People .
A native of Evanston, Illinois, he received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Political Science and Sociology from Southern Illinois University. He now lives in Atlanta with his wife, Sheila, and family.
Back in the day, books like Richard Wright’s Native Son and Steven King’s Stand led him to fiction. They gave him the gumption to sit down, be patient, create characters and let those characters take him to different times and places. Mike says not knowing which direction the characters and plot would end up, was the most exciting part of his creative process.
In his new book, The Bad Poet , Carla King is living a mundane life after the death of her husband in the 9-11 tragedy until she meets the adventurous, lustful Cutino Grigsby. Their impromptu travels to faraway places and gifts from Cutino blind her from any negative judgments about him. His physical appearance is striking, and his confidence gives her security and fills Carla with admiration. But it is his deceit that teaches her the most, as her renaissance man will bring changes into her life that she never anticipates. She must hang on for the ride towards a crossroad of life which could land her in deep water, or even her demise.
Here's an excerpt from the book...
Carla King
‘09 I yelled at the top of my voice to the jogger, or at least he was thin like one. But at this time of night, who knew. He could have been a burglar or an addict running from some ill-conceived crime, then fleeing to his freedom. But at this point, I had to take a chance. So I pleaded to him, “Help me! Help me!”
He slowed for an instant, turned and peered over at me, taking a step in my direction. But as if stuck in cement, he stopped in his tracks, recoiled back around and took off running again, only this time faster. Damn, I thought, he’s running away from me.
Despair welled up inside of me. Once again I called for his help, then twisted around to see the nightmare closing in for the kill. The jogger must have seen him and wanted no part of our mad theater. Even so, I tried to enlist him to join in, petitioning him to be my hero. Again, I yelled for him to show compassion and rescue me. “Stop! Stop! Help meeee!”
I turned to see the shadowy horror gaining on me with each second. I spun around in hopes that the jogger was coming back. But the slim exercise freak was long gone, his schoolboy physique flying down the gloomy side street, probably never to jog at that time of night or down that path again.
I angled around the corner dashing past closed retail stores and barren alleys hoping to bump into the jogger’s path again. Seconds later my stomach churned with a sour sensation and while running, I vomited. My lungs burned and my kidneys cut into me like my insides were trying to digest thumbtacks. Suddenly, a pain shot through my foot as if it was hit by a hammer. That’s when I realized one of my favorite black Juicy Couture sling-back pumps was missing. The cost of three hundred and seventy-five dollars flashed into my mind, the most expensive shoes that I had ever purchased. At first I overcame the initial shock of pain and just kept running, but soon it became a throbbing ache which slowed me down, but still I continued to drag the bashed foot along.
My breathing was short and rapid, while the throbbing pain from my shoeless foot challenged my will to the point that I was about to give up and take a stand. Truth be told, I was at the end of my physical ability to continue. However, as quickly as the thought of giving up had crossed my mind, it disappeared. I refused to let this happen to me and become a victim, so I dug deep into my soul and with every ounce of strength left, commissioned my body to continue the escape for survival.
I whirled my head back around and saw that my pursuer had stopped running, too. He was power-walking towards me, evidently tired as well, but nonetheless determined to finish what he’d planned.
The crackling sound like exploding Wildcat firecrackers rang out again. The slugs bounced off the brick walls of the closed stores and sleepy condominiums and whizzed past my head, so close that I felt the hot metal singe the hair from my ear. Nothing had changed; he was still resolute on disposing of me.
Hobbling down South State Street, struggling to keep from giving up, I squealed out again for help, still hoping that somebody would rescue me. Like one of those bobble head dolls that sat on the dashboard of some young Mexican kid’s leisure van, I kept a vigilant eye on the killer imp, constantly rotating my head back and forth, looking for some kind of escape.
There it was, a sidewalk sign that stood a little taller than my five foot seven-inches, used for advertising Tommy Gun’s Diner and Theater valet was tucked away in the restaurant’s entrance. I ducked into the corridor, folded myself into a ball and hid between the wooden A-frame sign.
The sorrow of the moment consumed all of my thoughts and emotions. Why me? If I had just stayed home that innocent evening, all of these tribulations could have been avoided. As I thought back, it all began that trouble-free night not so long ago…
To purchase The Bad Poet go to:
Amazon - http://amzn.to/14mwyKl
or www/fultimebooks.com
I met Mike ten years ago at Barnes & Noble. As an aspiring writer, he joined the writer's group I led at the store in 2004. Our group stayed together until 2007, and I am so proud to say that since then, Mike has published C hronicles of a Nappi Head , and can be found in Proverbs for the People .
A native of Evanston, Illinois, he received a Bachelor of Arts degree in Political Science and Sociology from Southern Illinois University. He now lives in Atlanta with his wife, Sheila, and family.
Back in the day, books like Richard Wright’s Native Son and Steven King’s Stand led him to fiction. They gave him the gumption to sit down, be patient, create characters and let those characters take him to different times and places. Mike says not knowing which direction the characters and plot would end up, was the most exciting part of his creative process.
In his new book, The Bad Poet , Carla King is living a mundane life after the death of her husband in the 9-11 tragedy until she meets the adventurous, lustful Cutino Grigsby. Their impromptu travels to faraway places and gifts from Cutino blind her from any negative judgments about him. His physical appearance is striking, and his confidence gives her security and fills Carla with admiration. But it is his deceit that teaches her the most, as her renaissance man will bring changes into her life that she never anticipates. She must hang on for the ride towards a crossroad of life which could land her in deep water, or even her demise.
Here's an excerpt from the book...
Carla King
‘09 I yelled at the top of my voice to the jogger, or at least he was thin like one. But at this time of night, who knew. He could have been a burglar or an addict running from some ill-conceived crime, then fleeing to his freedom. But at this point, I had to take a chance. So I pleaded to him, “Help me! Help me!”
He slowed for an instant, turned and peered over at me, taking a step in my direction. But as if stuck in cement, he stopped in his tracks, recoiled back around and took off running again, only this time faster. Damn, I thought, he’s running away from me.
Despair welled up inside of me. Once again I called for his help, then twisted around to see the nightmare closing in for the kill. The jogger must have seen him and wanted no part of our mad theater. Even so, I tried to enlist him to join in, petitioning him to be my hero. Again, I yelled for him to show compassion and rescue me. “Stop! Stop! Help meeee!”
I turned to see the shadowy horror gaining on me with each second. I spun around in hopes that the jogger was coming back. But the slim exercise freak was long gone, his schoolboy physique flying down the gloomy side street, probably never to jog at that time of night or down that path again.
I angled around the corner dashing past closed retail stores and barren alleys hoping to bump into the jogger’s path again. Seconds later my stomach churned with a sour sensation and while running, I vomited. My lungs burned and my kidneys cut into me like my insides were trying to digest thumbtacks. Suddenly, a pain shot through my foot as if it was hit by a hammer. That’s when I realized one of my favorite black Juicy Couture sling-back pumps was missing. The cost of three hundred and seventy-five dollars flashed into my mind, the most expensive shoes that I had ever purchased. At first I overcame the initial shock of pain and just kept running, but soon it became a throbbing ache which slowed me down, but still I continued to drag the bashed foot along.
My breathing was short and rapid, while the throbbing pain from my shoeless foot challenged my will to the point that I was about to give up and take a stand. Truth be told, I was at the end of my physical ability to continue. However, as quickly as the thought of giving up had crossed my mind, it disappeared. I refused to let this happen to me and become a victim, so I dug deep into my soul and with every ounce of strength left, commissioned my body to continue the escape for survival.
I whirled my head back around and saw that my pursuer had stopped running, too. He was power-walking towards me, evidently tired as well, but nonetheless determined to finish what he’d planned.
The crackling sound like exploding Wildcat firecrackers rang out again. The slugs bounced off the brick walls of the closed stores and sleepy condominiums and whizzed past my head, so close that I felt the hot metal singe the hair from my ear. Nothing had changed; he was still resolute on disposing of me.
Hobbling down South State Street, struggling to keep from giving up, I squealed out again for help, still hoping that somebody would rescue me. Like one of those bobble head dolls that sat on the dashboard of some young Mexican kid’s leisure van, I kept a vigilant eye on the killer imp, constantly rotating my head back and forth, looking for some kind of escape.
There it was, a sidewalk sign that stood a little taller than my five foot seven-inches, used for advertising Tommy Gun’s Diner and Theater valet was tucked away in the restaurant’s entrance. I ducked into the corridor, folded myself into a ball and hid between the wooden A-frame sign.
The sorrow of the moment consumed all of my thoughts and emotions. Why me? If I had just stayed home that innocent evening, all of these tribulations could have been avoided. As I thought back, it all began that trouble-free night not so long ago…
To purchase The Bad Poet go to:
Amazon - http://amzn.to/14mwyKl
or www/fultimebooks.com
