M.O. Kenyan's Blog, page 35
October 1, 2012
Tempted
Reblogged from An Evil Nymph's Blog:
I’m a bit late I know, I’m sorry. Anyway, here’s finally this week’s Picture it & Write and the continued ‘Unpredicted’ series!
The loud music beat the walls of the hall and echoed through my ears unintelligibly while the multicoloured lights wobbled around. The scent of food and alcohol swarmed over the place, mingled with sweat. The bodies swayed and jumped all over the dancefloor.
RED TEARS BLUE BLOOD.... By M.O.Kenyan part 2
As promised the continuation of Christoffer’s story. If you haven’t read the first part, click here. This is a love story you do not want to miss out on!
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She smoothed her fingers on the bandages over her son’s head and arms. Taming her puffy dress, she lay beside him and hummed a lullaby. Abellona had sung this lullaby to all her children just as her mother had sang to her.
We Read Banned Books
Reblogged from BookPeople's Blog:
Banned Books Week has officially kicked off, the week when we celebrate the freedom to read and remind ourselves that that freedom shouldn’t be taken for granted. Every year, hundreds of books are removed from or challenged in schools and libraries across America. Banned and challenged books have included The Great Gatsby, Catcher in the Rye, The Grapes of Wrath…
Judging A Book By Its Cover Part 3 Does your cover reflect you?
Reblogged from karensdifferentcorners:
Personally, I think a cover should not only reflect what the book is about, but also give the reader a glimpse of the writer. No matter how different your cover is, it, like your writing style, it should be “you” Whether it’s your logo or author picture on the back, there should be something that sets you apart from anyone else.
Judging A Book By It's Cover Part 3 Does your cover reflect you?
Reblogged from karensdifferentcorners:
Personally, I think a cover should not only reflect what the book is about, but also give the reader a glimpse of the writer. No matter how different your cover is, it, like your writing style, it should be “you” Whether it’s your logo or author picture on the back, there should be something that sets you apart from anyone else.
September 29, 2012
RANTS OF A CRAZY AUTHOR
REVIEWS; THE GOOD, THE BAD, AND THE UGLY
For my book Shades of Spring 1964; letters to my daughter, I have gotten all three types of reviews. Asking someone to review your work is the easy part but reading what they wrote is the hard part. I love knowing that someone else read my book but I get anxious to know about what they thought about it. Before I get any further this is the synopsis of my book.
Maxine is a university student who loves literature. Her mother suffers from cancer and all the treatment that she had gone through failed. Maxine’s mother is taken home to die and each time Maxine is home, before she goes to sleep the second she opens her eyes, she wondered if that would be the day her mother dies. Her father is at her mother’s side, wasting away faster than his love is. Maxine is prepared not to lose just one parent but both of them. She finds Taylor and her fights with him seem to distract her from what is going on at home. But then the fights are not enough and she seeks him out a different sort of release a different kind of distraction. Sex becomes Maxine’s new remedy in the fight against her normal life. But when her mother dies Maxine finds something else to interest her. Maxine discovers letters that were written in 1964 from a woman and a man named Kristen and Robert to a girl called Lena. She discovers that Lena is her mother’s name. When she reads these letters she figures out how different her and Kristen’s lives were but how similar they were too. There she discovers a secret she doesn’t think she could get over.
So far I have gotten seven reviews and eight ratings for this book and have discovered how different people are in the literal world. Some would just read for the entertainment value but others seemed to be looking at every single thing that includes the phrases used. (I took notes on those)
Below are some of the reviews I have received and note that even though they are different they have one thing in common;
The death of someone close does lead to a desperate need for life affirming action, such as making love. The author missed a great opportunity here to use this to more fully let the reader in on Maxine’s emotions at this point. It should have been the point at which I really started to care for Maxine. Instead I was focussed on the sex without love, or indeed any emotional involvement between Maxine and Taylor at this point. The sex scenes themselves were, on the whole, handled quite well, although I doubt any woman would climax quite so frequently or so strongly every single time. Again, less would be more – it needs toning down a little. If the scenes were less rushed they would be superb.
Moments where Maxine could have come out more about her feelings surrounding her mom’s death were opted out for sex scene. Though the sex were pretty well done in this, I empathized more with the scenes where Maxine witnessed her mother’s departure from this world. Overall, I think the relationship between Maxine and Taylor was rushed and built upon assumptions; even more noticeably, I felt that the flashbacks to the past needed a lot more research.
This book was a wonderful surprise, though it was way too short!
That’s why I only gave it 4 stars. That and the fact that Maxine and Taylor’s relationship developed way too quickly for my liking.
I enjoyed their bickering, in the beginning, but they quicky jump into each other’s pants, which is a bit weird, though, hilarious.
Apart from that, this book is great! I really recommend it to everyone!
This book is different to anything I’ve read. It has a clever plot with likable and believable protagonists. Maxine struggles with her mother’s illness, while Taylor is a womanizer with a sensitive side. About half way through I couldn’t tell how the cards were going to fall, but for a short story a remarkable number of events happen and it was all wrapped up neatly at the end.
I loved this book. I found myself crying through some of the chapters. It is a very touching story and easy to identify with. The only down side to the book is that so short and I wanted to read more about Maxine and Taylor. Other than that the story is just great. I cannot wait to read more from this author.
Those are the reviews, get your own copy of Shades of Spring 1964; Letters to my Daughter. If you want me to feature it on my blog I will, good or bad.
M.O. KENYAN AN INTRODUCTION
M.O KENYAN
I asked bestselling author MJ Kane how she got to be a best seller in one day. Yep one day! She told me to let the readers get to know me and they will support me. Well here goes…
I was born in Nairobi Kenya on the second of February. I was raised by a single mother who would do anything and everything for us. I use the name Ondego in the M.O in honour of her, Kenyan in honour of my origin and M is just my name Marita. There is usually this question when you do a blog tour do you put some of yourself in your books, I put everything of me in my books. The lead character, be it female or male is going through something I went through in my short twenty three years on this earth. The strong willed women, the nurturing ones who never gives up is usually a representative of my mother and well, if there is an absentee father…
Everyone I have run into or went to school with or hung around with will tell you that I am confident and outgoing, wrong. I don’t live in fun country but every single day I try to get a membership. I try not to let others approve of me but when need comes I will party with the rest of them. Because once I go into my shell into my thinking cap everyone immediately assumes there is something wrong with me. I would live in this other world in my head and at times find myself happier there. I would never get into the things that really interest me like theatre and music because I would be worried about what people would think. For the longest time I did not dare write because I did not want anyone to find it. Then I discovered Stephanie Meyers. Yep people are bound to go yeah right at this moment, but I was like if she can write about her dreams why can’t I. So I started writing a fantasy book and each time I tried to read it through I felt my heart drop. I just wanted to delete everything, get rid of it before anyone else saw it. But then I queried it and got more than a hundred rejections, if you have more I dare you to challenge me. I didn’t know why people wouldn’t want to work with me it was always the same thing, your work has merit but it is not right for my list at this time.
Then I queried one of my contemporary romance books to 5 Prince Publishers and there they told me what the problem was. I won’t lie the second I opened that email I was like what the F***. But then I read through and no lie I started taking notes from it. I wrote everything down and started going through my books. And through the editing process I would also take notes and go through everything. So after six months Sue, Bernadette and I came up with Shades of Spring 1964; letters to My Daughter. I learned a lot from that process and the recent books that I have written have benefited from it. Now I can go through my manuscripts without wanting to delete everything.
I think I went off topic. I am an author by heart; my mind is filled with stories that I just have to get out. Right now I am working on a seven part series called THE NEWYORKERS. Authors like Melody Anne, the Billionaire series and Bernadette Marie of the Keller Family Series have inspired me to start a series of my own.
If you want to know a little bit more about me in my writing use the links in the side bar and buy my book Shades of Spring 1964; Letters to My Daughter. Maxine is a university student who loves literature. Her mother suffers from cancer and all the treatment that she had gone through failed. Maxine’s mother is taken home to die and each time Maxine is home, before she goes to sleep the second she opens her eyes, she wondered if that would be the day her mother dies. Her father is at her mother’s side, wasting away faster than his love is. Maxine is prepared not to lose just one parent but both of them. She finds Taylor and her fights with him seem to distract her from what is going on at home. But then the fights are not enough and she seeks him out a different sort of release a different kind of distraction. Sex becomes Maxine’s new remedy in the fight against her normal life. But when her mother dies Maxine finds something else to interest her. She finds her grandmother’s letters to her mother and there she discovers a secret she doesn’t think she could get over.
Please don’t be afraid to leave a review right here in my blog. If you absolutely loved it I would like to know and if you absolutely hated it let me know too. Although people say we all have our audiences I would like everyone to know about me and my writing.
September 28, 2012
RANTS OF A CRAZY AUTHOR
RANTS OF A CARZY AUTHOR
WHEN TO SAY F*** IT ALL TO HELL!
I think all authors will agree that the writing part of a books life’s span is the easiest part. First an idea comes into your head or in Stephanie Meyer’s case you have a dream that you just have to put it down on paper and share it with the whole world. The share part is where it’s all about. So you sit down with your pen and paper and write down the different scenarios that you want in your stories. (in my case a story comes from just one scene, it can be the beginning, the middle or the end), You go through this journey of discovering and developing your characters their homes, their friends and their lives. You try to live through them, see what is realistic or not. I believe that even fantasy writers want to stay real but yet push the envelope or engage in this debate or question what exactly reality is. Who says vampires really don’t exist?
Anyway, you want to be able to relate with the story that pours out of you as a human being because you know people out there will also believe it. The thing is, if you do not buy the fact that a gorilla can be purple no one else will. You write what you know is a perfect plot then you get on the laptop. You let the story come from your head, your heart and whatever other body part you use to create and into the computer. Then when you punch in the last full stop you are totally in love with what you have written what you have created.
The next step is getting a publisher or an agent to see and feel what you feel. You send them a query letter and in those few sentences you need to get in the guy’s face and say this story is bloody perfect. So after a hundred rejection letters you get that one guy who says alright then let’s give you a shot. You pray that you are paired with an editor who will be able to see your story in the same way that you did, and still be able to tear it apart and bring it back together in a way that makes sense or is deemed right in the literary world.
The editing and publishing process is done and your book is realised to the world. That is the scariest part for me. Having people you don’t know and who don’t know you read what you wrote and go like that’s pretty good or what the hell was that?
As writers we want to be able to sell our books, to please our audience and out readers. But what if you get knocked down so many times, you just want to delete Microsoft word from your laptop and just forget about this whole writing business. Some authors say it’s hard to break into this business but once you are a bestseller it’s worth it. As an author I think, no I know that I have been rejected more than I have been accepted. But once you get a reader who goes like I loved that book you feel like finally. These months of writing and editing and promoting my book, the bad reviews and the good reviews was worth it.
So to answer the question When do you say f*** it all to hell? Is NEVER.
This world wasn’t created for quitters. Write your book put it out there, get the thousands of good and bad opinions and let them help you grow as an author. When I wrote my first book I was doubtful to the end. Then I decided let me write a smaller one, let’s see how that goes first. I did and 5 Prince Publishers took a chance on me, Bernadette Marie stripped me bear to my soul (I wasn’t supposed to see it but you will never know how grateful I am that I did). Sure I’m not a best seller yet, but the reviews I have gotten bad and good have made me feel more confident in my writing today.
A blurb of my book in a short story contest SHADES OF SPRING
My other short story CHECKMATE
Contact me on https://twitter.com/MOK_Author
Contact me on facebook
Contact me on goodreads
get my book at amazon
Please feel free to comment on my blog. Remember there is no wrong answer and the reason there isn’t an answer for some questions in this world is because people are terrified to say what they feel.
P.S. THE SOUND YOUR VOICE MAKES TODAY WILL LAST FOR ETERNITY.
September 26, 2012
excerpt of shades of spring 1964
Below is an excerpt of my book Shades of Spring 1964; Letters to My Daughter Hey guys get my book at http://www.amazon.com/Shades-Spring-1964-Daughter-ebook/dp/B008MU9J02
Maxine always battled with having to go back home.
At the beginning of each morning, she had the energy to stand in front of the mirror and engineer the best cheerful face she could, but at the end of the day, she struggled with leaving school.
Maxine arrived at the only un-weeded garden and overgrown lawn in the whole neighbourhood. Their little house didn’t always look that way, but ever since her mother got sick, there was no one towed the rose garden and no one to nag her father about painting the white picket fence.
She looked over at the withered garden and decided that the flowers seemed to be adopting the same condition as her mother — death.
***
Maxine looked down the long hallway. In reality, it was not more than ten meters long, but every time she had to go to the guest room, which had been changed into the hospice, she felt like she was walking the yellow brick road. However, rather than leading to the Land of Oz, this one led her to the only feeling of love she knew.
Another step, a deep breath, and she opened the bedroom door. Maxine’s nostrils were attacked by the pungent smell of medication. The rhythmic beeping sound of the heart monitor connected to her mother reminded Maxine that she needed to put on a brave face.
“Hey beautiful.” Maxine forced as mile as she noticed the exhausted expression on her mother’s face.
Lynne’s hair was shaggy, her toffee skin pale, and her lips cracked. Maxine saw the exhaustion on her mother’s ravaged face. Maxine’s father, Daniel, was cemented in the same spot he was always in, seated next to her mother’s death bed. Daniel had the same exhausted expression on his face, but on him the expression was permanently engraved in the creases around his eyes and mouth. Maxine’s eyes quickly looked around her mother’s body and bed. There seemed to be more tubes and machines than there had been when she left in the morning.
Her father gave Maxine a quick glance and then his eyes returned to his wife. Daniel’s eyes seemed to hang out of their sockets. His wrinkled hand held onto his wife’s, securely but gently, as if the only way to keep her by his side was to never let go of her hand.
Maxine looked at the simplest form of love they had, and her heart broke. What would her father do when Lynne died? Daniel had tied his life to her mother’s in every single way humanly possible, and here was something that he couldn’t protect her from.
Maxine’s mother had been diagnosed with cancer two years ago. They thought that they had beaten it, but it had comeback just before Christmas with the vengeance of a rabid demon, and it had its claws in her. No matter what they tried or how hard her father fought for every treatment known to man, it wasn’t letting go. Her mother had been discharged from the hospital two weeks prior and had been sent home to die in her own bed surrounded by her family.
Now Maxine was standing there witnessing the greatest love ever shared, knowing that it would soon come to heart-wrenching end. She had prepared herself, she thought, for her mother’s death. She had also come to terms with the fact that her father would die soon after her mother. There was no way one could live without the other. Although her father called her ‘the greatest love of his life’, she knew that her mother was his only reason for living. Once Lynne died, he wouldn’t have any other reason to stick around.
Maxine sat at her mother’s feet. Lynne cupped Maxine’s cheek with her hand and smiled as much as her strength allowed. “You are the most beautiful girl ever,” she strained to say, and the words rattled like a stone in a tin can.
Hearing her mother sound so weak broke Maxine’s heart, but she hid her pain behind her smile. Maxine thought of asking her mother how she was feeling, but it didn’t seem that important. Asking only frustrated Lynne because she was always economical with the truth for the sake of the withering man at her side. Listening to her mother put up a brave front, and her father whimper every time she did, cut through Maxine. Daniel smoothed his fingers over the thin hand stuck with needles; it was a gesture that had become
habitual. Maxine didn’t think her mother felt the discomfort of the IVs anymore, and let her father do it because it was the only way he felt useful.
*******
Maxine stood outside Taylor’s apartment door. She had ringed the doorbell a couple of times, but he hadn’t opened it just yet. She thought about leaving, the thought coming and going each time she rang the bell and waited.
When she finally felt like she’d had enough, she kicked at the bottom of the door and it flew open. Maxine covered her gaping mouth with her hand as she looked around for witnesses, but she was all alone in the hallway and no one seemed to have heard the thud the door had made on the wall. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she chewed on her lips in contemplation and indecision. “I could go in,” she mumbled to herself. “Theodor is open.”
She didn’t know what she was going to find inside, but standing outside ringing the doorbell every five seconds made her feel like a jilted lover. “Whatever,” she mumbled and took a long stride inside. Once her foot was over the threshold, she felt confident enough to get the other foot over.
“Taylor!” she called out before she was fully inside the apartment. “Taylor!” She looked around the bachelor pad. “No!” she moaned when she spotted a pair of blue boxers around her ankles. “You have got to be kidding me.” With two fingers she picked up the offending item, prepared to toss it into a pile of clothes by the bed.
Maxine’s eyes were pulled away from the underwear when a figure moved into the room. She saw something she never thought she would see in her lifetime—the beautiful side of Taylor. Taylor had apparently just walked out of the shower. His body glistened with water, and his hair was dark and wet as it fell over his forehead.
She also noticed was that he wasn’t wearing anything.
“Hum!” She tightened her lips; notable to pull her eyes from what she thought was a glorious body.
Maxine’s first thought was to duck or run out the door she had just kicked down to come in, but her body didn’t seem to respond to her mind. Maxine watched as Taylor stopped abruptly, and she followed his gaze to what she was holding in her hand. She didn’t need anyone to tell her. Maxine knew she looked ridiculous standing in the middle of his room, Taylor’s shorts in her hand. She was like a pole hoisting up a flag.
“What are you doing with my boxers?”
“Ahhh…” she stuttered, unsure whether this was the appropriate time to tell him she had kicked in his door.
“Is this a bad time?
Maxine tried to be subtle about how embarrassed she was. She kept looking away, but her eyes would always go back to Taylor. She couldn’t help it, it was instinct.
The thing that she didn’t understands why he didn’t make any effort to cover himself up. “I’m just going to-” she cleared her throat then squeaked, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Uh, yeah.”
She stretched the boxers towards him. “I think you’ll need these.”
“Thanks.” Taylor grabbed his boxers and walked back into the bathroom. “So, you’re here?”
“Yes, I am.”
Taylor came out of the bathroom with said boxers on his body, rubbing a towel through his hair. He was changing into a weird shade of red that amused her.
Maxine thought it was the right time to inform him about his door. “By the way, I kicked in your door.”
“That’s how you got in.” He examined it and when he saw no damage he closed it. “You kick in doors, play with guys’ underwear and you don’t look bothered by penises. What else do I need to know about you?”
“All you need to know is that we are doing Things
Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe for our assignment.” She tossed the book on his desk, taking a seat on the couch.
“How do you want to do this?” He picked up the book and looked it over. “I think you should do this alone. You are the one who wanted the knowledge.”
“You want me to do the work and youth reap the benefits.” Maxine jumped to her feet and grabbed a fistful of her dress as anger simmered through her. “You are such a womanizer. Read the book. I think you will identify with the male lead very well. He’s also a chauvinistic bully.” Maxine stormed out of the apartment, wishing she could take the doorway with her.
******
When Maxine got home, she had to shake the anger off before she walked into the house. The first thing she noticed was the music coming from her mother’s room down the hall. Quietly, she moved towards it. The door was cracked open. She thought about going in, but when she saw her parents dancing around the room she stopped. Daniel was practically carrying Lynne in his arms; her feet stepping on his as he carefully walked them around the room to the tune of the music.
Maxine could see the grip of her father’s arm around her mother’s waist. She was just in time to catch the tear sliding down his cheek as they twirled around. Maxine could feel her heart shatter. There was no way Daniel could survive Lynne’s dying, and there was no way her mother would let go because of it. They were trapped in their love story, forever being each other’s breath and heartbeat. Maxine pulled away from the heart wrenching scene and retreated to her room. Once she was under the covers, she put on her headphones, hoping that the metal rock would drown out the sweet notes of love coming from below.
***
“What are you doing here?” Maxine finally said when her jaw resumed its normal position after dropping open in shock. She stood at the door to her mother’s room, staring at Taylor sitting at her mother’s side while her father stood over him. They seemed to be looking at something on Lynne’s lap, and they were enjoying it too.
Taylor picked up a picture and held it up to her. She was in nothing but a diaper and, although she had been just baby in that picture, she felt like he had seen too much of her. He had a cheesy grin on his face as he took pleasure in her humiliation. “I like this picture. I think the diaper really accentuates your figure!”
She looked at the picture of a happy baby with stacks of donuts for legs and a chubby tummy. Maxine cleared her throat and was about to snarl something back at
Taylor, but the sound of her mother’s giggle cut through her revenge. Lynne had laughed her wrinkles away and, for the first time in weeks, it wasn’t a pretend laugh. She was genuinely enjoying the roast Taylor was hosting at Maxine’s expense. In a painful gulp, she swallowed the bitter words at the tip of her tongue. Her mother was happy and looked more alive than she had for a long time so, instead of the snipe, she laughed with them.
Maxine sat on the bed at her mother’s feet and they all travelled down memory lane together. In those pictures, she saw how her mother was before cancer, and she missed that woman. She choked on the emotion thick in her throat as she finally came to terms with the fact that her mother would never be that woman again.
Instead of the full of life, wacky-haired, outgoing, adventurous woman she had been, Lynne was the weak, terminally ill woman nailed down to her bed.
Maxine felt like she would crumble. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Taylor gazing at her.
She could feel his eyes studying the folds on her forehead a library of all her sad thoughts and feelings. Maxine would never let her mother notice her change of mood so she laughed with her parents and Taylor as he cracked jokes and told stories that were too farfetched to be true.
For the first time, Maxine felt something more than just hate for Taylor; it was gratitude. However, the laughter proved to be too much for Lynne to handle and her giggles soon turned into deep, whooping coughs. Maxine watched Taylor leap out of the way as Daniel took his place beside his wife, doing nothing but holding onto her hand.
“I think the two of you should get back to your school work,” Lynne managed to say in between steady bouts of coughing.
“Okay,” Taylor said. Maxine was frozen on her mother’s bed. “We better get to it,” Taylor tried again. He took Maxine’s hand and pulled her off the bed and out of the room. “Are you okay?” he asked when they were finally up in her room.
Maxine chuckled bitterly. She didn’t know what okay meant anymore and trying to figure out what kind of feeling it was confused and amused her at the same time. “Where do you want to start?”
“I can see your mother is sick…”he began.
“I meant with the assignment.” She wasn’t going to let anyone in on that part of her life. Dave was her boyfriend and she had tried countless times to let him in, but he seemed too distracted with his football to care about her emotions. So, instead of suffering another disappointment, she kept it to herself. “I was thinking that you could focus on the themes, and I could focus on the characters.”
“Uh, okay.” Taylor mumbled. “So…what did you think of my boxers last night?”
Maxine looked away when the memory came to mind. She chuckled, began to speak, but then took in a deep breath instead. She shook her head, lost for words, especially when the picture of him standing butt naked in front of her came to mind. “Um, I think…”
Taylor laughed. “You know that you don’t have to answer each and every question people ask you. No one is quizzing you, Max.”
“Max,” she shook her head. “My mother only gave me that name because it was her biological mother’s, but she never let anyone call me Max.”
“Why?”
Maxine realized that Taylor was getting more information about her in five minutes than he had in the two years they had barely acknowledged each other’s presence. “According to her, it sounded too manly.”
“I understand her fear.” He went on, “You already act like a dude. You sure don’t need a name like Max to go with it.”
“What do you mean I act like a man? “She had asked him a question, but she didn’t allow him to answer. “Just because I’m assertive and know what I want in life, it means that I act like a man?”
She didn’t know it, but her hands were balled into fists and she had a murderous, determined look on her face. Maxine wished he was a little shorter, just in her reach, so that she could connect her fist with his smug jaw. The comedic version of Taylor that she had seen in her mother’s room was long gone. Maxine realized the sarcastic jerk was back and sitting right in front of her.
“I’m just saying…”
“You aren’t saying anything. Let’s just get this done.”
She sat down at her desk, but then the faraway look came back to her face. She was looking out the window to the backyard, staring at her swing set and remembering her mother pushing her on it as they laughed. She wanted that back, but she knew she would never have it.
“We don’t have to do this today,” he offered.
Maxine could see he was trying, but she didn’t want Taylor to pity her. He was part of her other life, the life outside this house that had been turned into a hospice.
Today, Taylor had invaded the private and almost hidden part of her life, and she wanted him out of it.
“Mmmmh.”
“Question — how did a practical girl like you end up with him?”
“Don’t ask.” She was beginning to think about it, to weigh it in her mind, and it all seemed incomprehensible other. “Shit happens,” she laughed.
Suddenly, Maxine could hear the rushing of footsteps coming from downstairs. She didn’t move. She held onto the side of her desk, a trembling smile on her lips. The look in Taylor’s eyes, she could tell, mirrored her own. Maxine noticed him inching closer to her. She was thankful that he didn’t choose to flee the scene, but instead stayed by her side. So, Taylor sat with Maxine and watched as she clawed her fingernails into her wooden desk.
She stared at her door when she heard frantic footsteps come up the stairs. “I’m ready,” she thought.
Maxine’s eyes were fixed on the door handle as she watched it turn and the door fly open. Her eyes locked on her father’s distraught gaze. She waited for him to sound out the words, but all she got were incoherent sobs.
“You need to come downstairs,” he finally managed to gasp out.
Maxine nodded her head in agreement, but she didn’t move.
“Maxine?” Her father stretched out his hand to her, but she didn’t want to take it.
“I’m not ready,” she stammered.
–
M.O Kenyan
blog, ww.mokauthor.wordpress.com
twitter @mok_author
facebook http://www.facebook.com/MokAuthor?ref=hl
goodreads http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6445835.M_O_Kenyan
Hey guys get my book at http://www.amazon.com/Shades-Spring-1964-Daughter-ebook/dp/B008MU9J02
September 24, 2012
RED TEARS BLUE BLOOD.... by M.O.Kenyan
Hi guys! Hope you are doing great this Monday morning!
I have the prologue of a new book by M.O.Kenyan which you will all love. My sister was nice enought to allow me to help out with the editing and I must confess i have been unable to put it down! It’s just so hot!!
It’s about a reckless Dainish Prince and a social Kenayn girl.
