Here's a short description of the story:
Seven very different singles – four women and three men – rent a New Jersey beach house for the summer: author Shontae Nichols, self-employed accountant and realtor, Linda Harris, Linda’s sister, hip-hop video dancer Kinnik Watkins, cosmetologist, Jovita Blassingame, Calculus professor Curtis “Doc” Whetstone, actor and drama instructor, Kip Lee, and new housemate, up and coming film actor, Devon Burke.
During their two month stay, romances bloom, friendships are tested and when a tragedy strikes one of the housemates, they all learn the answer to the age-old question: Can men and women ever be just friends?
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And here's the excerpt:
The men were stretched out on the deck listening to my sister describe her latest job when I stepped outside. She’d landed a well-paid spot in hardcore rapper Q.E.'s latest video. I wasn’t thrilled about it. To make matters worse, Quentin Edwards had the reputation for being mean and ruthless. He’d been arrested for a variety of offenses in this country and overseas. All Kinnik cared about was money and exposure. The exposure was what concerned me the most. The dancers in his videos were known for being as close to naked as the industry allowed.
“I’ve never met QE,” Devon said. “I saw him at a party, but we weren’t introduced.”
Kinnik leaned toward him like he had a string around her neck. “What party was that?” Her eyes glittered with curiosity.
“The after-party for the Maxim 100 issue.”
Her eyes widened with recognition. “That’s right. Shari made the top ten.”
“Yeah. She’s made it the last two years.”
“So, you two aren’t together any more?” Her eyes studied his face.
I almost howled when Devon checked her. “Come on, if you’re in the business, you know she’s seeing Jarelle Smith, linebacker for the New York Giants. It’s been in every magazine in the country.”
Kinnik averted her gaze from his. “Oh, yeah. That’s right.”
I don’t know why she didn’t leave well enough alone. Kinnik thrived on playing games. I could tell from her tone of voice, the same tone she’d used from the time we were kids and she lied to Mama about something. My little sister loved to manipulate people and had learned early in life how to get what she wanted. It usually worked too. We had different fathers. She was the pretty one, because her daddy was one of my mother’s better-looking boyfriends. The family always joked that I got the smarts and she got the looks. It took a long time to get over the hurt of hearing something like that over and over again. But as I got older, I understood it was true, even though I never let it come between us. Kinnik was my only sister, and I loved her. Eventually I learned I could go further using my brain than she could with her looks. I’d been trying to make her understand that her looks were going to fade one day. She didn’t want to hear it, because she was convinced by the time her age started showing that she’d be married to the world’s biggest music producer, and he’d pay for any plastic surgery she needed.
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