Sunday, January 7, 2018

Sample Sunday Excerpt #4

I have four weeks to finish writing A Song For You if it's going to be released in February. My editors needs two weeks, and then I need another week to make the corrections, do the formatting and upload.

Here is the next unedited excerpt from the story. 


**********



I’d made the first move, but I had the distinct feeling that getting to know Breelyn Jarrett was going to be a challenge-one I looked forward to.

Tonight, though, I planned to leave on time to stop by my parents’ house. I was always eager to see my brothers and talk with them about what was going on in their lives. Ris, which was short for Aristide, had finished his last year of college, and was looking for a job. Beau, short for Beaumont, still lived at home because he claimed he was trying to save money. The truth was he was too damn lazy to go out and find his own place. At twenty-one, he’d only done two years of college before he dropped out. Now he was a blue shirt in Best Buy, which paid him minimum wage. It was an honest job, but I knew he could do so much better. Being the oldest, I considered it my responsibility to steer them in the right direction. Like any major US city, the streets of Atlanta sang a siren’s song to young brothers, which was often hard to ignore. It offered quick money along the ever-present chance of getting involved in the legal system. In my early teens I’d had a brush with the law, and I didn’t want my brothers to ever go through the same thing.

My mother kept it informal on weeknights. She was still working and had a few years to go until retirement. After working all week, she didn’t feel like cooking, so it was Chinese takeout tonight.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she said, kissing my bearded cheek as I entered the kitchen where she was pulling together disposable plates, cups and plastic flatware. “I’ll take these. Can you bring the tea and beer out?” She inclined her head toward a six-pack of Heineken and a tall pitcher of sweet tea with slices of lemon floating on top.

“Sure.” I grabbed the pitcher and scooped the beer up in my other arm. “What’s new around here?”

She snickered. “You have to be kidding. Is there ever anything new going on here?”

“Where’s Pop?”

“Seriously, Pierce?

The older my mother got, the more discouraged she became with my father’s hermit-like attitude. He had no desire to go anywhere on the weekends, or take vacations or travel. Sitting at home watching CNN was all he wanted to do once he got home from work. Lately, she’d been going out with some of her lady friends from the job. Her dissatisfaction with the arrangement was evident to me, but my father wasn’t fazed.

My mother refused to have a television in the living room. I made my way down the hall to the TV room where he was in his chair dozing while Don Lemon elucidated on one of the top stories of the day. Rather than wake him, I turned around and returned to the kitchen.

“Call your brothers down for dinner, will you?” She sounded irritated.

“What’s bothering you, Ma?”

“Same ol, same ol. The men living in this house all need a fire lit under their behinds. I’ve had my fill of looking after them.”

“You don’t mean that. I think you’re tired and bored.”

She waved a hand in the air. “Whatever you want to call it. They act as though my sole purpose on this earth is to see to their needs.”

“You have always done for them. They’re used to it.”

The look in her tired brown eyes when she glanced up saddened me. “You’re the only one who went out and made a life for himself. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

“Thanks, Ma, but Ris is going to be fine. He’s just starting out. At least he graduated and with pretty decent grades too.” I chuckled.

“But your father and Beau are hopeless.”

“You let them get away with too much. Maybe you should put your foot down.”

“You’re right, but it’s hard for me. Let’s talk about you. Are you seeing anyone?” She asked the questions as though she was hoping there had been a dramatic change since last week.

“No. The women at work are generally not my type, and the ones I’ve met in my professional associations are too much like me.” I laughed.

“What’s the matter, you afraid of a little professional competition?”

“Naturally, I want an intelligent woman, but she doesn’t need to have a degree. Common sense is more important in my book. It’s something that can’t be taught.”

“I think you’re being too picky. To hear your brothers tell it, Atlanta has the most beautiful women in the country.” 

“Ris and Beau are young, and it’s all they’re looking for.” Of course, I wanted the woman I ended up spending my life with to be attractive, but it didn’t need to be the heavily-made-up, waist-length weave kind of attractive for which Atlanta women were famous. “They’re a dime a dozen, and I’ve had my share of them.”

Her jovial laugh filled the kitchen. “True. You certainly have!”

Attractive and intelligent weren’t the only qualities I hoped for. There were things I wanted in a woman that I couldn’t share with my mother.

#  #  #  

COMING SOON TO KINDLE, NOOK AND PAPERBACK

Sunday, December 24, 2017

Sample Sunday Unedited Excerpt #3





Pierce

Since I’d been promoted to Vice President of Financial Affairs with Sonant Records, I didn’t have too much contact with the artists, yet it was one of my favorite parts of the job. Creative people amazed me. As my family never ceased to remind me, I had always been the logical, serious one who didn’t have a creative bone in my body, but I admired those who did. My work centered on the absolute, and there was no room for nebulous concepts. During the infrequent opportunities I got to sit in on recording sessions, I fought pangs of jealousy. If you wanted to know how to make your money grow, save on your income taxes or take advantage of a tax shelter, I’m your man, but if you want to bring music out of the air from a thought, you have the wrong brother.

The newbies were always eager and excited, unlike those artists who had already made a name for themselves. The new talent was generally polite and expectant. As a rule I sat in on the contract signings with them in case they or their agents, managers or parents had financial questions.


The young woman we signed this morning turned out to be a surprise, to me anyway. Dave had given me the contract file to review last week, and that’s when I’d seen her picture. At first glance, I assumed she was in her early twenties, possibly even late teens, but as I went through her personal information, I discovered her birth date. She was thirty-one. Normally I wasn’t attracted to redbones, but her unique looks immediately caught my eye. Breelyn Jarrett was a real beauty. Her large, almond-shaped brown eyes and full lips coated with a glossy purple lipstick gave her an exotic look. Besides her incredible mouth, the most striking thing about her appearance was the enormous crown of natural hair she’d dyed a deep purple. The color offset her creamy complexion perfectly. Yes, this was definitely one meeting on which I had to sit in.


In person she was even more beautiful. When I’d asked about her relationship status, she shot me down right out of the gate; I believe I saw a spark of interest in those intense eyes though. She lives in Alabama and wouldn’t be back for a couple of week to begin studio sessions, so I needed to think of ways to run into her while she was here.

Now that Bree Jarrett’s enticing aura had left the building, it was time for me to focus on more important issues. Like a handful of other former entertainers, my boss started out in the business as a performer. Darryl Samuels, the President and CEO of Sonant, had personally promoted me from Director of the Accounting Department to VP. Although he’d had an enviable career, his gift wasn’t rapping or singing, but a razor-sharp mind and a knack for the art of the deal. In the short twelve years he’d been at the helm of Sonant, he’d bought out two labels and incorporated them under the Sonant umbrella. That was how I’d come to be vice-president of a hip-hop/R&B record company. He’d wanted someone on the inside to investigate the financial feasibility of these deals. I had been with the company for five years at that point, and the promotion was a major boost to my personal bottom line. D was a brilliant dude who consulted with me before he made any business moves. His problem was a volatile temper, which was known to veer into the stratosphere with little or no provocation. He cussed like a dock worker on steroids, and it made for tenuous relationships with the talent whose sensitive egos couldn’t take too much battering. Lately he’d been working on trying to tame his temperamental side by learning to meditate and do yoga. From what I could tell, it wasn’t doing squat. The thing about him, though, was his gigantic heart. He was also known for bending over backward to help anyone with a legitimate need. I had personally seen his income tax return for last year, and the amount of charitable contributions was staggering. Yes, he was demanding and expected nothing less than excellence from his employees and artists, but I’d learned how to deal with D, and we got along well.

Recently I’d been putting in long days and some late nights at work recently. The future purchase of another building to be used to house strictly performance space was in the offing. Darryl and his wife were also starting a new foundation. He preferred me advising him rather than using an outside accountant, since I was already familiar with his personality and goals. The hours involved in research and writing reports were ridiculous, but advising him was an honor. I often got home at midnight or later and was so beat all I did was strip off my clothes and fall into bed.

On Friday morning, I called Dave’ assistant to find out what time his meeting with Breelyn Jarrett would most likely end. She didn’t need to know why. My timing turned out to be perfect. She said they were just wrapping up. Our offices were on opposite ends of what was erroneously called the executive wing by Sonant employees. The moment I hung up, I casually made my way down the hall just as Zel, and Breelyn were exiting Dave’ office. I spoke to his assistant and busied myself with making a cup of coffee in the corner of the reception area outside his door.

“Morning, Zel, Ms. Jarrett.” My gaze rested on her face.

“Hey, Pierce. You next in line?” he asked, nodding toward Dave’ office door.

“No, man, I come in here to get the good coffee.” I raised my cup in the air. “Either of you care for a cup?”

“Ooh, I could use some,” Breelyn said with that slight smile that made you wonder what she was really thinking.

I filled one of the Styrofoam cups. “How do you take it?”

“Light and sweet.”

While I added sugar and cream to the steaming brew, I swallowed the comment that automatically came to mind and handed her the cup.

“Thank you, Mr. Devereaux.”

“Well, I’m gonna head back to the studio,” Zel said as though he sensed my desire to talk to her alone. “See you next week, Bree. Take it easy on your voice between now and then.”

“I promise I will. Thanks for the translation in there.” He nodded to Dave’ assistant and left.

“Your meeting went well?”

She gave a small sigh. “It did, but there’s so much I don’t know about this business. I feel like an alien on a strange planet.”

“Well, I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have about the business end of things. Dave is your point man for creative input and direction on your material, and since Zel is producing, he can also advise you on the musical details. Generally, I counsel and coach music creators in how to make, save, and invest money from their music career. This also involves keeping them on top of the requirements for taxes. If you have a few minutes, why don’t you come to my office? We can talk there.”

Breelyn hesitated for a moment. “I have time, if you do.”

Just what I wanted to hear. “Follow me.”

We carried our coffees down the hall to where my office was located near Darryl’s. Breelyn didn’t comment, but her eyes widened slightly at how the décor changed when we turned the corner. The carpet was plusher. The furniture in this corner of the building was more high-end, and the artwork changed from blown-up album covers to original works by local artists. I satisfied my desire to touch her when I put a hand on her back and steered her into my office.

“Have a seat.” I indicated one of the chairs facing my desk. “Can we agree on one thing before we talk?”

The purple coils around her jailbait face bounced as she nodded.

“Will you drop the Mr. Devereaux from here out? Call me Pierce.”

She smiled. “Okay, Pierce. Everyone calls me Bree.”

“Good. So what questions can I answer for you? Honestly, I was a little concerned when you came to sign the contract with your girlfriend in tow instead of a lawyer or manager.”

A line formed between her brows marring her smooth complexion. “I thought that was his job as the A&R Manager.”

“He works for the company. You want someone who strictly represents your interests. He or she will negotiate on your behalf with the company.”

“She’s my best friend, and I didn’t want to come alone. “Mr. Higgins asked if I had a manager. I felt dumb saying I didn’t have one. How important is that?”

“Very important. You need someone to oversee your business affairs and free your mind up to concentrate on the music.”

“Picking a stranger off the Internet is probably a huge mistake, huh?” Her musical laugh tickled my senses, and I laughed with her.

“Yes! I can give you the names of a couple that I know to be legit. Zel and Dave come in contact with more managers than I do. There’s an abundance of artist managers here in Atlanta. Would you rather have a male or a female manager?”

Her expression went blank for a second and she twisted a coil of her amazing hair around her index finger. “I hadn’t given it any thought. Is there any reason to pick one over the other?”

Her naiveté was adorable but dangerous. She had so much to learn about this business, and I wanted to be the one to teach her. “You have to consider that your manager will often travel with you to gigs. Some women feel more comfortable being in…intimate situations-like in a dressing room, with another woman.”

Her lips formed an O, and I couldn’t rip my gaze from them.

“Thanks for the tip.”

“The first thing you have to learn about this business and this city, for that matter is that it’s a breeding ground for con artists. Many give themselves a title when they have no more experience in artist management than your average Uber driver. All they want is that twenty percent of your contract.”

She made a face as though the mention of a manager’s percentage was painful. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

When my assistant buzzed to remind me of the meeting I had scheduled in five minutes, I regretted having to cut the conversation with Bree short. “Sorry, I have a meeting, but I’d like to continue our discussion. Will you be here tomorrow? We could talk about it over lunch.”

Her gaze flitted around the room for a moment before she looked at me straight on. “Okay. I’ll be here most of the morning.”

“Great. Meet me in the downstairs lobby at one o’clock.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow at one.” She rose from the chair, moved toward the door and then turned around. “Thank you for the advice.”



COMING IN FEBRUARY 2018

Thursday, December 21, 2017

#AmWriting

When it comes to writing, I am very single-minded. Some writers, while they're working on a book, also write short stories, articles, blog posts, and even ghostwrite for others. I've never been able to do that. Actually, I've never had the desire to do it. When I remember back to the days when I led a local writers group. One of our members asked what kind of writer I considered myself. At that point in time, I had only completed one manuscript and hadn't even published yet, but I answered him by saying I considered myself a novelist.

Even though I really admire my fellow scribes who can create different projects at the same time, I realized early on that it's not my gift. I have a hard enough time trying to finish the novel I'm writing at any given time. Since 2010, I've published fourteen full-length novels with A Song For You being number fifteen.

That being said, I love immersing myself in the world of my characters.
My current companions, Breelyn Jarrett and Pierce Devereaux of A Song For You, invaded my mind back in July, and it's taken me this long to get to know them. With every chapter I write, I learn more about their personalities and their backstory.


Bree is different from any of my other female protagonists, and she has given me heartburn with some of her decisions. I used model and beauty, hair/fashion blogger and vlogger, Raye Boyce as the character model for Bree. While I was doing a search for "purple hair" when I started writing Born To Be Wild, Book One in the series, I ran across her pictures. Her exotic beauty spoke to me. She has an edgy look that can be both innocent and sexy. 

If you read Book One, you'll remember Bree as Tangie's best friend. She challenged Tangie's decisions and often forced her to think differently. By the time I was halfway done with the book, I knew I had to write Bree's story. The main question I asked myself was, "What kind of man would challenge her?" After a little brainstorming with a few of my author buddies, the answer was clear. He needed to be someone who was the distinct opposite of her free-wheeling personality. The answer was to put a drop-dead gorgeous but serious, logical man in her path. Enter Pierce Devereaux...

             
Atlanta model Travis Cure was my choice for Pierce. Unlike many of my romance author friends, I'd never used Travis as a character role model before. I chose him because he's simply delicious! Pierce is the VP and CFO of the record company that signs Bree. He is immediately attracted to her, but even though there is a physical attraction on her part, she is leery of "the suits," as she calls professional men.

Writing an opposites attract story hasn't been as easy as I thought it would be. I've found it difficult to write a female lead character who's worldview is so different from my own. Thus, it's been a slow journey towards The End. But now that I've become more acquainted with who Bree and Pierce are, I now know for sure where they're going and how they will get there.

It's taken longer than I'd expected, but I'm looking forward to releasing their story in February. 

Monday, December 11, 2017

New Release Showcase

I am pleased to present the new Christmas-themed release from the wonderful Stella Eromonsere-Ajanaku.

A Bit About Stella

I'm Stella Eromonsere-Ajanaku, author of several toe-curling & heart-fluttering Flirty & Feisty Romance Novels consisting of Contemporary/Interracial/Multicultural Romance as well as Historical and Paranormal Romance Books. I write about super sexy heroes and flirty & feisty heroines. My stories are a breath of fresh air, dotted with unexpected twists and are set in fascinating Africa, enticing Europe and enchanting America. An emotional spin is what you get when you read my books. Your Christmas Gift is my hot new release and it makes the perfect gift for your family, friends and colleagues.

There are now 20 published books so far. Just so you know, I'm a romantic freak, mother of two fun - loving teenagers, married to my gorgeous husband and best friend and we live in London, UK. If my teens had their way, they would fill our home with a dozen pets. Swimming on my back like a star-fish is one of my skills.

Please write or connect with me on social media. I love reading from you.

Have a jolly good Christmas.

Purchase Links (includes Paperbacks)
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2imYurm Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Stella-Eromonsere-Ajanaku/e/B004LXE09E Okada Books: http://okadabooks.com/book/about/all_of_me/15607 Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/StellaE1

Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36594979-your-christmas-gift Don’t Miss Updates on New Releases and Book Deals.

Sign up for Stella’s Newsletter: http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Feepurl.com%2FcpbEwT&h=-AQGOFLErAQGIBW263YlisOlKzjDEygxBIcj0fo9ou4xGSw
Blurb ~ A Flirty & Feisty Romance Novel ~ ~

Their attraction sizzles…like a wild flame ~

Femi Oladokun stretched out on the sofa at his hideaway penthouse days before Christmas. Darkness eats up his heart slowly because he is a therapist who cannot help himself. In the last six years, he has spent the festive season alone. When a dark-haired woman with killer curves, slanted eyes and feisty boldness storms inside his suite like a cyclone asking him to pack his belongings, he knows he must kick her out. Yet, his stomach walls curl with tension as she rattles his peace.

Tired after her long-haul flight two days before Christmas, Event Planner, Kimani Carter just wants a luxury bed to lie on in the penthouse she is told is vacant. This season she knows her single Christmas wish will go unanswered as always and the dark pain in her heart will linger. All she wants this year is to be alone. But when she strolls inside the suite, the drop-dead gorgeous, tattooed man splayed on the sofa donning only hip-hugging grey boxers and a brutal tongue send her body and her holiday into utter confusion.

Will the season work its magic to bring Femi and Kimani their Christmas gifts?

From the Author of All of Me ~ A Sweet & Steamy Romance

Teaser

Bracing her arms on the armrest, Kimani also leaned forward. “Stick to the topic. I’m not here to find myself a sex partner. All I need is to be left alone as I requested from the start.”

For a long moment, Femi stared over her head as if she were indiscernible. When the silence dragged on for ages, she kicked his leg. Hard.

“Come back down to earth, Femi.”

Fingers steepled together on his knees, Femi did not flinch. Instead, he ravaged her face and legs with his eyes.

Slowly, a flurry of light heat settled on her arms and thighs. Several moments later, his gaze turned warm and persistent, yet he did not utter a single word. Gradually, tension coiled in her spine and pushed its way into the pit of her stomach. But she ground her teeth and put on her best cold façade.

“You’re made of glass,” he chuckled after a lengthy period.

An unintentional sigh escaped from her lips and her shoulders sagged. She reckoned this man was schooled in the art of torturing women with his eyes just for fun. “And you’re made of bronze,” she snipped.

Again, he laughed for a while and she watched his face relax. And if she were honest, she would admit she preferred him at ease than when he was his arrogant self.

“If you’re engaged why are you in a beautiful resort on your own? Is your fiancé blind?”

Caught off guard by his retort, Kimani chuckled and then belted out a resounding laugh. “I like the idea of finding myself a fiancé.”

The grin on Femi’s face turned into a grimace. “What do you intend to do with yourself for a week?”

Going along with his change in discussion, Kimani shrugged. “Read a book. Swim. Visit the Roman Theatre. Pamper myself with facials and massages. Isn’t that what people do on holidays? And you, how did you plan to endure the week before I crashed your peace and quiet?”

A sharp smile hit his lips.

Okay, she marvelled at the cute shape of his full lips, too well defined for a man. The pale pink colour contrasted against his dark brown skin and easily drew her eyes and thoughts to his mouth.

“All your planned activities sound typical and predictable for celebrities. I had plans to lie in my suite, listen to music, watch TV, do a lot of soul searching and deep thinking while Christmas rolled by.”

Shaking her head, she gestured with her fingers. “Sounds very boring. But then so are you. No surprise there.” She paused, waiting for his response.

Femi did not blink as her verbal bullets flew past his broad shoulders and sank to the bottom of the distant sea. And she knew he could take any nonsense she dumped on him as long as she embraced the same barbs from his mouth. From their short interaction, she knew he could be brutal with his jibes.

It was rare to find a man who did not care if he offended her with his words or manners and it was exciting to come across a man who did not give a hoot about her appearance—a man who was not ready to give in to her demands—a man who was so self-confident he did not need to suck up to her.

“I’ve got two things to prove to you in the next week,” she heard Femi murmur.

Scrunching her nose at him, she waved aside his intentions. “You don’t need to prove anything to me. Listen to your music and watch TV, while I entertain myself with my novels or fancy massages and trips to tourist places.”

Lifting one finger, Femi snarled. “You’re wrong. To prove to you my charm isn’t lost on you, I’m going to give you a massage. That’s not a request by the way.”

Kimani gasped, then her eyes widened with shock. “You’ll have to drug me first.” “I’ll do it if I need to,” he agreed without averting his gaze. “To prove to you I’m not boring, I’m going to take you dancing, hiking and I’m going to treat you to fine dining. And you don’t have a choice.”

Laughing in his face because she could do nothing else, Kimani attempted to still the thrill overtaking her body. “For someone who boasted about needing his peace and quiet, you sound ready to go wild for a woman you don’t fancy or want anything to do with at all.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” he scoffed. “The only reason I’m treating you to my company is to make you uncomfortable enough to book yourself into another room.”

“Ah! It has nothing to do with the fact you’re just like every other man who wants to have their way with a woman with generous boobs and hips.”

Rubbing his palms together with a predatory smile on his face, he spoke calmly. “If you offer me your sensuous body now, I’ll turn the other way. I’m not interested in dating you or having sex on holiday. But I’m going to give you a massage despite all you’ve said.”

“I’ve booked for a professional masseur to take care of my body. Even if you beg me with your last breath, I’m not going to let you touch me. Get it inside your head, Femi Oladokun!”

“We’ll see who wins, Kimani Carter. Just so we’re clear, I don’t know how to lose.”

“That makes two of us.”

Connect with Stella on Social Media


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Our promise...is to deliver an intensely emotional experience you'll never forget.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Sample Sunday Excerpt #2


In this snippet from A Song For You, Tangie and Bree talk about the current state of Bree's love life...


“Let me see if I can catch up with Spence,” I said, when a customer entered the store.

“Okay.” Tangie took care of the man and his kids while I typed out a text. In town for the weekend. R U free 2nite?


A few minutes later, my phone pinged. How about dinner? I can pick U up at 7:30. R U at Reese’s?

Yes. C U at 7:30. I smiled and returned the phone to my bag. An evening with Spence was always fun, particularly what happened after we got to his apartment. He knew how to turn up in the club and in the bedroom.

“You’re smiling, so you must’ve gotten in touch with the Wizard,” Tangie said with raised eyebrows. “So I take it you’re going out tonight.”

“He’s picking me up at your house for dinner.”

“So, I guess Reese and I shouldn’t expect to see you until noon tomorrow.”

“At least noon.” I winked.


“Please be careful, okay?”

“Come on, girl. You know Spence doesn’t mean me any harm.”

“I don’t believe he means you any good either.”

“What do you have against him, Tangie? He’s Reese’s best friend.”

“And you’re my best friend. I like Spence, but I love you, and I don’t think he really cares about you.”

“We get what we need from each other.”

Tangie frowned. “Is that really all you need? Or is it just what you say because you’re afraid of what it would mean to get into a serious relationship with a man?”

“I know what it would mean. The last thing I need is somebody telling me, ‘I don’t want you going there,’ or ‘That’s not a place where you should be singing.’ You know how rough it’s been for me since my mama got sick. I have enough stress in my life. Having some guy dictate to me would be more pressure than I could handle.”

“I can’t see you getting involved with such a possessive man.”

“Neither can I!”

“I mean you wouldn’t be attracted to a controlling man to begin with.”

“They all get all possessive once they know you have feelings for them. I like my freedom too much to get caught up in a situation like that.”

“You haven’t met the right one yet. Reese doesn’t try to restrict me in any way. In fact, he thinks I’m too introverted, and he’s always trying to get me to do things I’ve never done and go places I’ve never been. Sometimes it gets on my nerves. They call it the comfort zone for a reason.”

“Reese is one of the rare ones. You’re lucky you found him.”


“He found me. I wasn’t looking at the time either, remember?”

Tangie and I were never going to agree on this, so I just smiled and changed the subject.

A Song For You 
COMING LATE WINTER 2018
to Kindle, Nook and paperback

Wednesday, December 6, 2017

New Release Showcase

Hello! This is one of my tour stops during my two week book tour for The Bennu Project by Tyrone Givens. This virtual book tour is organized by Write Now Literary Book Tours. This tour runs November 23-December 6, 2017.  Follow the tour here.  Book your own tour here WNL
ASIN: B00VP4N6X8
ISBN-10: 1620309580
ISBN-13: 978-1620309582
Genre: Post-Apocalyptic Sci-Fi
About The Book
On a dangerous run to scavenge supplies from a remote excavation site in the Meza Ruins, Azubuike and his friends encounter a unique piece of technology left by their ancestors. Once exposed to the device, Azubuike’s reality is altered in ways that could unravel his mind. The team has no way of knowing the danger—or benefit—posed by this ancient technology which triggered a series of events forever changing Azubuike and his friends. Has he unlocked the secret to end the alien occupation of his world or will this device result in the extinction of his people?
The Bennu Project is a genre-defying novel with the suspense of mystery, metaphors of science fiction and accuracy of historical relevance depicting the rise-and-fall of several Nile Valley civilizations.
About The Author
Fed up with the stereotypical caricatures used to falsely portray the Black culture, Tyrone Givens is committed to creating heroes and heroines as positive images for our children. To reverse the less-than-flattering qualities that diminish self-esteem, self-worth and cultural value, this master storyteller entertains readers with science fiction plots infused with historical facts often omitted from school curriculums.
Givens, a homeschool educator whose high school-aged children are attending college, is a multi-lingual, federally-licensed airplane pilot. The Bennu Project is the culmination of his passions: empowering Black children, accurate depiction of our history and rebuilding our community.
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Sunday, December 3, 2017

Sample Sunday Excerpt #1

For the next few weeks, I'll be sharing unedited excerpts from A Song For You. This is how the story opens...
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!