Today is the official release date for Mrs. Black by Angelia Menchan. After reading today’s excerpt, be sure to go order your copy.

Chapter One

“Cinnamon what are you going to do about Brown?” Cinnamon stared out at the lake surrounding her home. Malcolm Black, her best friend since high school and former lover stood several yards behind her, asking a question she wasn’t prepared to answer. She and William Brown had been married over thirty years and as with most marriages there had been ups and downs. Brown had been involved in a series of affairs, Cinnamon and Black had been embroiled in a love affair a couple of years ago. However, for the past eighteen months, she and Brown had focused on being faithful. Brown had fallen off the wagon. She had promised him almost two years before that if he compromised their marriage again she would divorce him. She had also promised Malcolm she would become his wife if that ever occurred. He had been living a celibate lifestyle waiting for her.

Turning to him, she looked into his handsome, dark chocolate-face. It saddened him to see the pain on her beautiful, toffee-colored face. He loved her more than anything in the world and he wanted her for his own. He’d warned Brown, his friend, on more than one occasion.

“What would you have me do Malcolm? I told him to leave our home and he has. Now I need some time to pray and ask God to guide me on this.”

“I understand, but, Cinnamon, you know how I feel about you and I want to marry you, make you my wife…”

“Malcolm, I know and when I marry again, you know it will be you. But right now my life is chaotic. My husband, the father of my children, has decided to have another affair. The husband of the woman decided I needed to know, he also decided to try and blackmail me, once he heard about my books, so what I pray is you’re patient with me.”

“Are you considering staying with him, again?” She could hear the pain in his voice.

“No, I’m not, but I need to plan what I’m going to do. I’ve been married almost thirty-two years. I need to find a way to tell my kids. Aura probably already knows. As the premier attorney in Center City, she might. Muhammad is planning to get married in two months and though Amy is only two years old, she loves her Papoo. I love you Malcolm and a part of me wishes I had been a better woman two years ago.”

“Better how?”

“I wish that instead of having an affair with you, I had left Brown at that time, allowing him to carry on with Khadijah, but I thought I knew best. As stupid as it may sound, I really thought that when he gave up traveling he would be faithful. But, why would he? He has a wife who has looked the other way for decades, taking him back and forgiving him over and over, so now, I finally have what I deserve. Not only that but I openly ran around with you and we’re still close. My guess is that Brown probably doesn’t believe we aren’t still sexual.”

Walking over, he pulled the woman he had loved for almost forty years into his arms. Immediately she started crying. His heart broke, because it took a lot to bring her to tears.

“It would be nice if you waited until the ink was dry on the decree before you moved into my house.” Cinnamon and Malcolm pulled apart at the sound of William Brown’s voice. Malcolm stared at his friend, choosing to say nothing. Cinnamon walked over to her husband, getting close to his face.

“William Brown, this is my home, it was bought with Dubois money. Please give me my key and leave!” He flinched at her words, she had never mentioned the fact that the home they lived in had been hers when they married, that and acres of land.

“Cinnamon, Brown, I’m going to leave now. Cinnamon if you need me, call.” Malcolm prepared to depart.

“That won’t be necessary Malcolm, William is leaving.” Looking from his wife to his friend, William Brown stood his ground. Malcolm nodded to him, placing a kiss on the side of Cinnamon’s mouth, before walking out.

About Angelia Menchan:

Angelia Vernon Menchan, wife, mother, mentor and former Job Corps
Counselor pens her first coming-of-age novel for emerging women.
Mrs. Menchan is the author of several other books and articles. Born
and raised in Ocala Florida, she resides in Jacksonville, Florida.

Visit Her website for more information: http://www.angeliavmenchan.com/

A quote from Pat about her books: “Any resemblance to those dead or alive is a doggone shame!!!”

Enjoy today’s excerpt from Pat G’Orge Walker’s new novel Somebody’s Sinning in My Bed:

He was so beloved, the thirty-five year old, powerfully built, ultra handsome, tawny-colored, mega church pastor, Reverend Grayson Young. And yet that irony was not lost upon him as he stood rooted to the floor tile of a sex den. At that same moment his cross that he’d normally worn around his neck fell from his pants pocket. He could hear the March wind howl through an open window, testifying no doubt, that finally, he’d emotionally and spiritually traded in his church pulpit for one of a different kind.

So with his legs parted for good balance, he took one last look around the Sweet Bush Lounge. As he shook with anger, his eyes appeared shrunken and he looked deranged. Then the Grammy Award winning, mega star Reverend Grayson Young, aimed the 357 Magnum at where he knew it would do the most good.

“Adulteress!” His head jerked back, a move that caused his smooth, black curly hair to fall about his ears and neck. Suddenly his sable-brown eyes, no longer sunken, went wide as he bellowed, “Wanton Whore!”

There was no turning back as the Reverend Grayson Young used one hand to tip over a nearby votive candle, which quickly ignited the covers on a velvet-backed chair. Satisfied that the fire would purify whatever evil was within the sex den, he turned around and used his other hand to pull the trigger.

When the scandal was over, where it’d served as media fodder for several weeks, there was only a slight shift in the church where there should’ve been outrage. And yet, when it came to the mindset of the flock, it mattered little that before the fatal inferno, and his suicide, just about every Sunday, for the past four years, they’d heard the self-righteous Reverend Grayson Young preach of the necessity to live Holy or burn in hell.

Even months after his death, when the reverend’s many abominations came to light, what he’d preached, and ultimately what he lived, still didn’t matter to the majority of the members. In about every conversation in the house of God, the reverend was still beloved, he was still a man, and he was still forgiven.

However, spiritual amnesia blanketed the congregation of Brooklyn, New York’s New Hope Church Assembly when it came time to forgive the sins of his widow the beautiful, yet fallen First Lady, Chyna Young. They would not forgive her, as God would.

And it didn’t matter that no one in that congregation was sin-free and could’ve thrown the first stone.

St. John 8: 3-11

About Pat G’Orge-Walker:

Pat G’Orge (pronounced Gee-or-jay) – Walker is in a league of her own.  This accomplished Christian author and comedienne has an amazing mind and talent for turning her observations of church and black church life, in particular, into gems of sidesplitting humor.  It is her own special gift from God that enables G’Orge-Walker to depict the often ridiculous antics of church folk.  She does it without subverting the Good News or watering down the potency of its message.

Pat G’Orge-Walker has led a colorful life professionally, to say the least.  She is a former music industry veteran who has worked for several major labels including Epic, Def Jam and Columbia.  She cut her chops as a singer by performing with the legendary 60s girl group, Arlene Smith and the Chantels (“Maybe”) as well as with the gospel groups The Spiritualettes and The Heavenly Two.  And she has written as well as acted in stage presentations.

Find out why she’s one of my favorite writers by picking up her latest book. www.sisterbetty.com and www.myspace.com/sisterbettycomedy

Enjoy the excerpt from Eric Pete’s latest release – REALITY CHECK:

I returned from Miami officially engaged. Really engaged.
    And I had the ring to prove it.
    All of Lionel’s planning stood revealed. He had more than the proposal mapped out, as I found out later that evening. We had gone for a walk on the beach after dinner. Following the surf and sand, we returned to the room, where we made love.
    I’ll tell you now, I’ve never faked an orgasm my entire time with Lionel—until that night.
     As Lionel cradled me in his arms, I cried. They weren’t tears of joy, as Lionel probably figured. As I lay there, emotional, he informed me of his (and his mom’s) wedding plans.    
     Catalina Island.
     It was the first place Lionel had taken me. He had already talked it over with his mother, Adele, and she was on hand to arrange everything for us once we selected a date. Hell, she would probably rent the whole fucking island. I knew she would have preferred a traditional church wedding with bells and all, being a Dunning, but Lionel knew how I felt about churches. My mom was supposed to be here for this.
     “When do you want to do it, baby?” he’d asked.
     I was still numb as I stared down at the diamond on my finger, and I blurted out, “No time like the present.” What happened between my mom and dad wasn’t me. This was going to work.
     We were to be married in three months.
      When the limo returned me to my apartment late Monday night, I had no idea of the rollercoaster in store for me on Tuesday.
     I returned to work to find that one of the girls had walked off the job the day before and another was out sick. My desk overflowed with stacks of files, and I was to be wed in three months.
     Tuesday felt more like a Monday than Monday ever could.
    Mona and Charmaine rushed to my desk before I even had a chance to put my purse down.
     Mona squinted at me disapprovingly. “Bitch, you came in last night and didn’t even call to tell me? Let me see that ring!”
     I held it up for them to see. Charmaine was silent for a full four seconds.
     A new record.
     Four.
     Three.
     Two.
     One.
     “Oh my gawd! OMG! OMG! OMG! The size of that diamond. Do you know how much this must have cost?”
     “I do,” Mona chimed in. An avid collector/recipient of diamonds and such, she probably did know.
     “C’mon, y’all. It’s just an engagement ring,” I said, trying to convince myself. The immense piece of ice on my hand was a sobering reality that made me more self-conscious the more I tried to ignore it.
     “Okay, okay. Enough about the ring. How many times did you do the nasty? Do you have a date set? We want the dirt.” Charmaine cackled with delight. Mona actually agreed with her this time.
     “I’m not answering your first question, you nasty wench. As for your other question, well, the wedding’s going to be in Catalina . . . in three months.”
     “Oh,” they answered in stereo, caught off guard with the announcement. Mona and I exchanged looks that spoke of our conversation at her condo that Friday night.
     “Whew. All this work.” I sighed in an effort to change the subject.
     “C’mon, Charmaine. Let Glover catch her breath. We’ll holler at you later, girl,” Mona said, letting me off the hook for now. 
     The rest of the day was less than peachy. Mr. Marx, the office supervisor, was on the warpath with us being understaffed. In addition to playing catch-up on my own desk, I was expected to fill in wherever needed. That, combined with the jet lag, did not make for a happy Glover.
     Yep, a lot of shit on my mind.
     Lionel called me from his office to see if I was up for lunch. I took a raincheck, needing to clear my desk as well as my head. Besides, we had a lifetime ahead of us. In a futile attempt to catch up, I decided to work through lunch. Charmaine and Mona, having no such notions, trekked off to do some shopping.
     Lunch came and went in a blur. I was deep into my work while simultaneously lost in thought.
     Did I love Lionel?
     What’s an extra stapler doing on my desk? Who’s been sitting here?
     Did I really love him?
     These files don’t belong here. But where do they belong?
     He never gave me any reason to doubt his love, so what was wrong with me?
     Now, why couldn’t somebody return this call? That is pure lazy.
      I guess I had issues.
     “Excuse me!” he yelled as I stormed past the front of the office. Somebody had come in from off the street.
     Damn.
     I didn’t work the front and wasn’t up for the grief that came with it. I slowed down, considering whether I should keep on walking to the other side of the office. He didn’t really see me anyway. I moved too fast when I got wound up.
      That wasn’t my style, though. I broke off from the direction I was heading and approached the front counter.
     The voice belonged to one pretty good-looking brother. He was medium brown, not as tall as Lionel, but with some little bulges beneath his white dress shirt. Wondered briefly about another bulge that might lurk in his navy blue slacks.
     Briefly.
     He looked like he’d had a rough day at the office. Believe me, I felt him on that. I felt his tired eyes all over me as I approached, but he had something different in his accompanying earnest smile. Seemed a little less “wolflike” than most men, if there is such a thing these days. Strangely, it reminded me of the first encounter with Lionel.
     “Can I help you?”
     “Um, hi. I need an application.” He seemed a tad slow, and I had work to do.
     “For . . .?”
     He told me he was looking for the state employment applications. I apologized for not knowing where things were and explained about our being short-staffed and stuff. I really don’t know why I volunteered all that info. I found the application and handed it to him, reminding him of the Friday deadline and options for online filing.
     “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t forget. I need the work,” he replied with that smile. He laughed, but it didn’t hide the exhaustion behind it. Poor thing.
     “Well, I hope you find the work you’re looking for,” gushed from my mouth before my mind caught up. Why did I say that? My intention was to just be courteous, but it came out playful, almost kittenish. His facial expression didn’t change, so I was relieved I hadn’t embarrassed myself.
     Unless that was his poker face.
    “Later,” he said as he took the application from my hand and departed. My eyes went to lock in on his ass, but his shirt had come out of his pants in the back, blocking the view of his bum. I lingered at the counter for a second more for less than noble reasons.
I was grinning—until I looked down at the weight on my hand.
     And on my soul.
     Time to be a big girl again, as reality kicked in. He did have a nice smile, though, and I appreciated the brief escape from my issues, but it was time to finish the task I was doing prior to “smiley” interrupting me.
     I moved on to the back, taking one last peek before he made it out the door.
    Hmm. I never got his name.
     Good.

About Eric Pete:

Eric Pete is an Essence best-selling novelist whose previous works include: Someone’s In the Kitchen, Gets No Love, Don’t Get It Twisted, Lady Sings the Cruels, Blow Your Mind and Sticks and Stones. He has also contributed to the anthologies: After Hours, Twilight Moods and On the Line. His upcoming release is Crushed Ice (January 2010). He currently lives in Texas where he is working on his next novel. His website is: www.ericpete.com.

As most of my family and friends know, I was an avid reader long before I became a published author.   As I mentioned in my newsletter and a previous post, September is my birthday month and those close to me know I celebrate the entire month. To celebrate this year on my blog, I’ve invited some of my favorite authors to be guest bloggers.  The authors are in various genres. Some are veteran writers, while others are fairly new. The one thing they all have in common–there’s something about their writing style that has me hooked on their books.

I want to thank all eight authors in advance for participating this month.

Sit back and relax and enjoy next week as I feature eight of my favorite authors. If you haven’t read any books by these authors, be sure to give their books a try. You will not be disappointed.

There are so many young women today that are sexually promiscuous, and living their life on the edge, trying to find love, in all the wrong places. Many are going from bed to bed and lying in the arms of men and women trying to fill that void in their life. Wanting so much to fit in and, gaining that popularity amongst their peers and young men. In reality their living a dangerous and unhealthy lifestyle. Promiscuousity is alive and well and destroying our young women, and leading them down a path of destruction, diseases and even death.

Sometimes being a writer has its perks! Okay, the reason i say that is because of the research and spontaneous concepts that can come to your thoughts at any given moment.

Which leads me to my Latest novel “Sexual repercussions” being released later this month, through create space. This story takes place in the upper class suburbs of Atlanta, Ga. I have always wanted to live in Atlanta, so this is what inspired me to write a story taking place in this wild, entertaining and successful venue.

Imagine living amongst the successful African American entrepreneurs and all the Go Getta’s of Atlanta. Living the high life and shooting for the stars. Not settling for anything less than perfection. That is how Porsche and Simone, two best friends, from broken families lived their everyday life. Growing up together, going to the same schools and mapping out their whole lives together.They traveled with no particular in crowd, just mainly themselves.

They both wanted and strived for power, success, love and respect.
Both girls achieved success early on in their careers, until one betrays another and starts to live life on the edge. being driven by jealousy and being sexually promiscuos.

She tried so hard to achieve , what she later realized she already had. realizing this, all too late in life.

“Sexual Repercussions”….Excerpt

Prologue

“What do you do when the one’s you love and trust betray you?”
“How do you deal with pain?”
This is the life Porsche Lattimore lived and had to deal with. The high school fairy tale love and unbreakable best friendship was now over. Antoine laid there in the essence of his betrayal sex with my best friend, Simone. I watched through the window that stormy night.
He held her like he would hold Porsche.
“Didn’t they know that there are always repercussions for betraying another?”
Porsche life had gone from sugar to sh** in the blink of an eye. What her eyes saw would forever put a lump of revenge in her stomach that would last seven years. Not knowing how to forgive or move on from this, she lived a life of revenge, and all would feel her wrath.
Over the years, Porsche went from bed to bed trying to find what she had lost in high school, which was love. Even the death of her mother she never got over, but she had her own speculations about what happened to her too. She vowed when the time was right everyone involved would pay dearly, Antoine, Simone and even her bastard of a father.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chemistry is a 34 year old romance/erotica novelist and a part time student,s tudying to be a LPN.Among her many talents, she is a book club president, E-Mag owner and blog talk radio host. Chemistry reads and reviews books in many genre’s, such as erotica, romance. mystery and fantasy.she is also the author the short story titled “Almost Doesn’t Count” released in 2007, which is available on Amazon. february 2009 she launched an online magazine called Go Getta’s Magazine, by women for women, along with other contributing authors.

www.chemistryslife.webs.com
www.gogettamagazine.webs.com
www.southernallure.webs.com

In Franklin D. Roosevelt’s first inaugural address in 1933, he said, “So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself — nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.” The 32^nd President of the United States was referring to the economic conditions of that time, but today I’ve come to embrace this quote on a more personal level.

How many times in your life have you been confronted by something you were afraid of and turned and walked away rather than staying to conquer it? Has fear ever prevented you from progressing in life or following your dreams?

All my life, I’ve had an extreme fear of heights, which has figuratively paralyzed me on more than one occasion. If ever the term frozen with fear were appropriate, I can say that I’ve been there and done that. One day while hanging out as a young adult at an amusement park with another couple, my boyfriend decided that he wanted to take a roller coaster ride. After all, that is what people do at amusement parks, right? Well, I had one problem with that – I don’t ride roller coasters, or anything else that requires me to climb steps that seem to lead to heaven just to get to the starting point. Unfortunately, no matter what I said, he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. I was literally forced to stand in line for what seemed like an eternity and make my way up to what may as well have been the moment of my death. Talk about walking the green mile!

I hesitated the entire way, internally declaring the whole time that I would never survive this ordeal, and guess what happened… I lived! Yes, I had my eyes closed and felt like my mouth was in my stomach throughout the entire ride, but it didn’t kill me. I’d be lying if I told you that I no longer had a fear of heights, but at least I now know what is on the other side of my fear.

I also deal with this issue in my novel, The Baker’s Dozen. In the story, you’ll read how a young woman’s fear of rejection and loss was so strong that she wouldn’t allow herself the freedom to love and to be loved. It’s a story of sacrificial love that inspires you to challenge yourself to stand and face what’s on the other side of your fears.

Is fear of failure keeping you from reaching your full potential or living the life you want to live? The only thing you have to be afraid of is being afraid.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

 S.D Denny began writing poetry and short stories at an early age to escape the harsh realities she faced while growing up in a Brooklyn housing project. On her journey to becoming a published author, she has written and edited training material for national organizations and volunteered as a journalist for a church magazine. In addition to her debut novel, The Baker’s Dozen, S.D. is the author of an erotic anthology, and the forthcoming novel, Half, which is slated for release in 2010. She currently lives in Charlotte, North Carolina with her two sons. You can visit the author on her website at http://www.sddenny.com/