Sample Sunday Excerpt #1

Breelyn
The pen would not stay in my hand; it kept slipping between my sweaty palm and my fingers. Three other people sat at the long conference table, staring and probably wondering what was wrong with me. They waited silently as I wiped my palms over my pants’ leg and studied the contract. I couldn’t believe I was actually signing a record deal, something I’d fantasized about for years. Even though I wanted it more than anything in the world, I was scared shitless to take the first step. After I’d watched Unbreak My Heart, Toni Braxton’s story, maybe ten times, my heart thundered in my chest at the thought of the same thing happening to me.
The record company had sent me a copy of the contract a few weeks ago, and I’d taken it to my lawyer like Zel had told me to do. My lawyer. Every time I said it, I laughed to myself. She specialized in entertainment law and had made a few changes to the contract and explained what they meant. It was her job to make sure I didn’t get screwed the way Toni had. She reassured me that she didn’t need to be present at the signing, so I was doing this alone. Well, not exactly alone. Tangie came with me for moral support, and I was grateful. She’d taken the morning off, even though she had her store to look after.
Two reps from the record company sat across from us. Dave Higgins, the A&R guy for the label, from the contract offer meeting, I already knew. Zel had taken my demo to him. The other had introduced himself as some kind of financial person. I was nervous but not so nervous I failed to notice that the money man was fine as hell-tall, dark-skinned and well-built. Only he was one of the suits-serious and conservative. He filled out the suit beautifully, though. Those chocolate brothers didn’t have to do anything to get my engine running, probably because I am so short and so light. The contrast was a definite turn-on. He looked a little like Spence, but they were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Spence was as far from conservative as you could get.
He spoke up snatching me out of my concentration. It figures he’d have a voice the sounded like James Earl Jones. “Ms. Jarrett, do you have any questions about the financial breakdown in the contract?”
I flipped a few pages to the breakdown of how I would be paid once my single and album were released and then checked to make sure the changes the lawyer made had been included. After I stared at the numbers for a moment, thinking they sounded outrageous to me, I answered, “No, it’s pretty straightforward. My lawyer went over everything with me. It looks like everything is in order. Thank you, Mr.-”
“Devereaux, Pierce Devereaux.”
When I finally lifted my gaze, the look in his eyes almost scorched me. There wasn’t a single thing professional or business-like about it. In fact, if I’d been in a club rather than a conference room, I probably would’ve winked at him. Instead I averted my gaze and nudged Tangie’s foot with mine wordlessly asking if she’d noticed. One last time I tried to dry my moist hands on my pants and then picked up the pen again. There were so many papers to sign. I dragged in a deep breath that was louder than I‘d intended and started with the top sheet.
“Do you gentlemen mind if I record this moment for posterity?” Tangie asked, pointing her phone in my direction.
“Of course not,” Higgins said with a big smile. “Knock yourself out,”
Tangie videoed the moment, and when I’d affixed my signature to the last page, both men shook my hand and welcomed me to the Sonant Records family. Higgins promised to have a final copy of the contract sent to my attorney the next day. He left the conference room and returned a few moments later with a bottle of champagne wrapped in a white towel and four flutes on a fancy silver tray.
“This is a Sonant tradition.”  He set the tray on the end of the conference table and wiped the condensation from the outside of the bottle. With the neck of the bottle pointed away from us, he peeled off the foil wrapper, placed his thumb over the cork and began to undo the wire cage surrounding it. After he draped the towel over the bottle’s neck, he twisted the fat bottom part until a soft pop sounded. I’d just seen the right way to open a bottle of champagne.
Instead of him making the toast, Devereaux said, “To the beautiful new addition to the Sonant family! Congratulations, Breelyn.”
Tangie and I clicked our glasses against theirs, and my head spun with giddiness before I’d even taken a sip.
COMING Late Winter to Kindle and Nook and paperback!