IN THE CHAIR-You Gotta Hear This

An Interview With the Sun

2012-05-19T09:36:00.000-07:00

Hello, friends thank you for coming.Today I'm doing something I have never tried before, I am interviewing the sun. I've donned my protective clothing and eye gear in order to do this. Please be aware our sound requirement will be turned on as loud as it can go in order for us to catch the sun's voice so please make sure yours is not equal in volume.

http://amzn.to/hugsun

If you have read the book WHO WILL HUG THE SUN, you already know of the funny, and sometimes sad adventures the sun endured in order to be hugged. All things accomplished this weekend will be another great day between the moon and the sun.

Hi Sun, I read here that you were finally getting another hug.

The sun positively glows in her excitement "Yes, that's true. My friend Moon will be here. Tonight is special though. We're having an Annular Solar Eclipse. It's a little different, because the sky won't get as dark. But it is still a nice hug.

Whew, I remember the first time you two got together before that it was crazy. The stalking of earth's inhabitants, chasing of birds and planes, squeezing the droplets out of clouds.

Yeah, well I'm really sorry about that. The sun momentarily hides her shame behind a passing cloud Listen, you promised this will be short. I have a few miles of trees and plants I need to shed a little light on. So, hopefully we'll see each other at the big hugfest, right?

Of course. I'll be the one peeking behind a welders mask. Thanks for stopping by, Sun. I really need to get out of this gear. I'm smothering.
I understand. Thanks for having me. And everyone out there who will be coming to watch the hug, be sure to wear protective coverings over your eyes. And while you're waiting for tonight, go on over, grab and read Who Will Hug the Sun to the little ones. I can guarantee they'll love it.

Thanks for the advice Sun. Thank you everyone for stopping by and don't forget to buy the book.

Newest Review: It took me less than fifteen minutes to read this beautiful story -- perhaps because I got into each picture.
In Spanish the Sun is masculine and the Moon is feminine. I was surprised to read the reverse in English; now I may understand why a car is feminine in the Queen's language.
Do you know what impelled me to buy the book? The title. It intrigued me; the story engulfed this old fellow.
This love story convinced me that Ms Wade knows how to dive into her inner child's fantasies but convey them as the adult she is. The final outcome was excellent.
Grammar and punctuation? Quite flawless.
My congratulations to the sketch artist.

Who Will Hug the Sun- FREE THIS WEEKEND

2012-05-18T16:14:00.000-07:00

With the excitement of the solar eclipse this weekend, I have the perfect book to show your children how an eclipse works. Free on Smashwords this weekend only. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/34889 CODE: EV94P Amazon:http://amzn.to/hugsun

Who Will Hug the Sun

Mhia is so upset about not being able to hug the sun her mom tell her the story of the antics the sun goes through to get a hug and she learns a little science in the end. Who Will Hug the Sun is part of a series of picture books titled IN MY SISTER’S WORLD .
Kindle , Smashwords , Sony or Kobo,
Nook and iPad

"This is a beautiful short children's story. Very cleverly written, with a wonderfully moving story line. My children loved this story when I read it. It also included a very clever little method of explaining to children what happens during an eclipse (making a difficult concept understandable for them)."

EXCERPT

The sun was very hot. No one would touch her. This made the sun very sad, because more than anything, she wished she could be hugged.

Every day she saw mommies hugging their children.

She saw children hugging their pets.

She saw mommies and daddies hugging and wanted to be hugged even more.

She tried to hug the birds, the airplanes, and the balloons that escaped from the children…but they all flew too low.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Come Meet The Take No Crap Mothers

2012-05-11T14:33:00.000-07:00

Many things happen in life that can turn a sweet even tempered mother into a force that out rivals a whirlwind tornado.

In "The Women of the Hill"        Mona of The Perfect Solution     Debney made a mistake and
5 women accept help and hell in    made the mistake of stalking         became pregnant. She won't take
order to care for their children.        and taking Catrine's 3 year         the bullying from her classmates.
                                              old son. Oh, yeah, she'll pay
                                                          .

Review: The Women of the Hill
Once you let Sam into your life all control is relinquished and you become just a number. He steals your soul....This is a story well worth reading. A story of friends bonding over soda and Oprah I felt I knew these women. Ms. Wade has brought them to life and given us a very real peak inside the hearts and minds of women who struggle to put food on the table, laughing and loving each other and their children. They are any of us.Free this weekend- https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/13767 Coupon Code: CR76W Expires: May 14, 2012

Review: The Perfect Solution This was an intense read. I found my heart beating from chapter one to the ending chapter. I recommend this book for parents to read. It was a quiet a startling book.

Free this weekend: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/13640 Coupon Code: WJ75P
Expires: May 14, 2012

Review: D.N.A.
This book's for you if you love wrenching personal trials, emotional highs and lows, terrific descriptions of a young woman's movement through life and her internal dialogues, and beautiful writing.Free this weekend. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/84319 Coupon Code: DX25W Expires May 14, 2012

Coming to an e- Reader Near You

2012-05-08T09:40:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day is approaching and I have the perfect book for you.

THE PERFECT SOLUTION-A three year old is mistakenly given to a stalker by his preschool teacher.

See the epitome of a mother's love, feel the disillusion and heartbreak of one who wishes to be a mother and never can, and observe the mistakes made by the ones a mother places her trust in.

It is also a part of 'Mom Loves 2 Read" Mother's Day Give Away Event. Please check it out. http://lovez2read.blogspot.com/2012/04/sponsor-spotlight-2-mothers-day.html?m=1

Loves2Read

Check out the giveaway post to learn more and win over $600 in prizes. http://lovez2read.blogspot.com/2012/04/loves-2-read-huge-mothers-day-giveaway.html

A Guide for Teens on Sex & Relationships + Video

2012-05-07T11:15:00.000-07:00

EY WADE: Hi, thank you so much for coming back and visiting my blog. Today I want to shine a light on a new book with a topic that puts tension in every parents mind. Teens and Sex.

A friend of mine, Matt Posner and J.C. Scott have collaborated on an invaluable guide- Teen Guide to Sex and Relationships. The following letter explains the premise. I think it's a great idea.

Feel free to share all information here and be sure to visit both authors to learn more. about them and their book.

Dear Ey,

What a pleasure it is to appear on your blog to talk about Teen Guide to Sex and Relationships. I know you are a person who cares very much about young people, because of your lovingly written and illustrated picture books, and I know you like to write about relationships and conflicts in your novels, so I’m sure you will relate to the material in the book Jess and I have written.

As a teacher I see young people every day who are going through a variety of troubles. Most are troubles related to love and relationships, but there are serious troubles I see as well: depression, unintended pregnancies, severe emotional problems. There is not much a teacher can do for kids in these situations, but I have always wished I could do something, and so I’m trying in the way I can, as a writer.

I conceived Teen Guide as a book that would let me give young readers all the advice that I can’t give to my own students. Teens want to know when they should fall in love, or whether they can feel okay about who they are, or what does and doesn’t happen in a physical encounter, or how to think through tough decisions about their bodies and their connections to others. And yes, there are other books about these subjects, but this one is unusual for a lot of reasons.

There are two sets of answers to all the questions. There are two authors, one female and one male, each with a distinct view and the ability, when necessary, to address the experience of a particular gender on the issue. Also unusual is the fact that we are from different generations – I am in my early 40s, Jess in her late 20s – so that we sometimes look at things differently for that reason.

One thing both authors have in common, though, is caring about kids. We give the best advice we can based on our knowledge and experience. Sometimes this advice may be controversial, but a lot of the time it’s just common sense, and it’s spoken directly without being buried in a lot of the jargon and formula and unnecessary elaboration that you will find in the slick volumes that sell for three and four times as much as the price of Teen Guide’s e-book editions.

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Also for sale at Smashwords, Google books, and in many other venues.

Best,

Matt Posner

There is also an instructional (clean)video. 'How to Put on a Condom' Please watch at your discretion.:

Ey Wade: Audience, wonderful letter don't you think? So, again thanks for taking the time to stop by and please, remember you are welcome here anytime. Visit Matt on FB J.C. on FB

Welcome to the Party

2012-05-01T11:20:00.000-07:00

http://bit.ly/ReviewThis

THE AUTHOR: We're so glad to see you here! Today is a celebration. A party given by all of the characters from my novels in celebration of the new venture for Debney of the novel D.N.A. - She is to be published by an innovative company, Ink'nBeans Press. So, without further ado, go on in, grab something to eat, take a peek at the novels and enjoy yourself.

Catrine (The Perfect Solution) placed the last of the wine glasses on the table in preparation for the party. Spinning slowly she smiled at the enormous amount of paraphernalia decorating the room.

"You girls think you have put up enough?" She directs her question to the women sitting in the room and waves her hand to indicate the balloons, streamers, and odds and ends.

"There are never enough decorations when it comes to a major life change." Raine (The Women of the Hill) "Am I right, girls?"

Frankie Duz, also from The Women of the Hill, released a hand full of balloons and watched as they floated to the ceiling and joined the many others. Their colorful strings swinging happily in the small breeze.

"I agree, especially when Debney will be working with a new bunch of people. Our author, Ey Wade did a great job choosing the publishing company InknBeans. I see great things coming from this venture."

"Me too. I'm so excited!" Debney, her friends and family from D.N.A. entered the room. "I feel really special to have been chosen as the novel to be published by an outside company. Not because I think Ey is doing a poor job, but because I think this will be an opening for everyone else. I just can't say enough about how happy I am."

"I'm happy for you, too." Durham from The Fishing Trip, followed by every male from each of Ey's other books, entered the room and sat at the table "To be honest, I wish it were me. Until then, I'll lift my glass and cheer you on, Debney."

"Thank you, Durham and thanks everyone for coming. After the party, run over and check out the writings by Ey Wade and view the awesome Ink'NBeans website. Let's eat."

D.N.A.

On the night before a planned family vacation, Debney is inexplicably excluded. After a bitter argument with her mother at being barred from family vacations, especially one so close to her eighteenth birthday, Debney arranges a romantic dinner with her long time crush. During the chaos of dinner turned teen party, she learns of the death of her family. Yes, sometimes relationships in families end tragically. People leave; parents die, and lives change. But does it all have to bring out the skeletons in the closet?

Debney Nichole Armstrong thought she knew everything about her family. She knew her dad worked hard at everything, except building a relationship with his family. She knew her younger brothers were typical little kids, and she knew her mother, for some unknown reason, disliked her first born and only daughter.

What she really needed to know was did her mother contribute to the ‘accident’? Who is the man repeatedly mentioned in her mother’s journals? Where were the bodies of her ten year old twin brothers, and who is the father of the child she now carries? No matter what the answers are, Debney knows, nothing will ever be the same.

Excerpt Chapter1

Excerpt Chapter Two

Kindle , Smashwords , Sony or Kobo,
Nook and iPad

Just Who is Sam? 5-women/1Relationship

2012-04-29T10:38:00.003-07:00

"Ms. Wade has given us a story that both captivates and alarms......This is a story well worth reading. A story of friends bonding over soda and Oprah I felt I knew these women. Ms. Wade has brought them to life and given us a very real peak inside the hearts and minds of women who struggle to put food on the table, laughing and loving each other and their children. They are any of us."

"The Women" just received a great review and I must shout and dance.Go on over and read the review.

This is just a sample of life on The Hill.

The very first time I came in contact with Sam, life had already beaten and humiliated me into thinking I was a worthless human being. I’d talked myself into having a very low opinion of the sorry way I was living and providing for my six-month-old daughter. We were trying to live off funds acquired before I was terminated from my job as a medical office assistant and it wasn’t working. Things were so tight I was having a hard time keeping food on the table and the bills paid. After three months of scrimping, I was just about ready to give up and move in with my mother and when my friends hooked me up with Sam.

Whenever my girlfriends and I got together for our daily ‘4:00 Bash the Stress’ sessions (which was really our way of legitimizing watching Oprah everyday), I cried on their shoulders. I’d been doing this so often they began to laugh at me as soon as I opened my mouth to complain. Each one in turn advised me to get in touch with Sam. ‘Sam is the man’ said one. ‘He could solve all of your problems’ said another. I heard them say ‘Sam could do this and Sam could do that’ so often that one day as we sat in my living room chewing on chips and watching Oprah, I found the courage to ask….

******

“Who is Sam?”

“Girlfriend…”

This was Tone’ya Knoes about to answer. Tone’ya is thirty-two years old, the encyclopedia of our group. She’s loud, assertive, and the well-informed mother of two daughters. No truer friend could be found.

With a Humph at the end of the word, she stood in front of me with her hands resting on her well-endowed hips and shook her head from side to side like a broken shutter. She snapped her fingers two times in an arch above her head and clicked her tongue to the rhythm of the snapping fingers.

“Girl, don’t you know anything? Wake up, girl.” She snapped her fingers under my nose.” Sam is the only person that can help you. He takes care of us.” She swung her arm to include the three women sitting in front of the television. “How do you think we all make it?”

“I thought you all had a ‘man’.”

They all laughed.

“Of course we do. The thing is; can we depend on them?” Tone’ya questioned with a smirk.

“No.”

All of the women shouted in unison and laughed even louder. They shared high-fives and fell all over themselves in merriment.

“How many of you here can depend on your ‘man’ to remember that you need your bills paid?” She pounded her fist in her opened palm like a frustrated lawyer making a final statement. “Food on the table, pampers on the baby’s butt and most important…money in your pockets?”

Tone’ya did the snap and arch thing again and everybody in the room cheered while laughingly bemoaning the faults of their men.

“Well, I can.” Skinny Rayne Moore, the youngest woman in the group stood next to the television and put her hands on her hips in imitation of Tone’ya.

Whoever this Sam was, I thought. It was obvious it didn’t matter to him how old or young a woman was. Rayne was just making twenty years old. She shook her shoulders, making her breast bounce heavily and gave a very seductive smile.

We continued to laugh.

“You laugh, but I know my man takes care of me.”

“Who are you talkin’ about girl?”Jenny Needs questioned. “I know you not talkin’ about that fat, sorry ass, cradle-robbin’ Shamel.”

“Honey, please.” Rayne raised her opened hand, in that talk-to-the-hand fashion, towards Jenny.”You know what Shamel is for and he’s not ‘fat’ he’s muscular.” We all snickered. “I’m talkin’ about ‘Sam’.” Rayne ignored our side comments and continued. “Sam will do me no wrong. Sam is the man. Can I get a witness?”

She raised her arms in the air and danced around as if she had gotten the Holy Spirit. Amen sister and you go girl were repeated over and over as we laughed.

“So all of you get something from Sam, huh?” I asked after the laughter stopped. “Did you all meet him at the same time?”

“No.” They all answered together.

“I hate to ask this and don’t get mad or think I’m skanky, because y’all just don’t seem the type, but do you all sleep with Sam? Cuz I’m gonna let you know right now, I’m not into ‘kinky’.” I quickly added the last so they would know where I stood. Getting help was one thing, selling my butt and odd sexual acts were another story.

“What? Are you kidding?” Jenny giggled. She pressed her hands over her mouth as if she were trying to hold in a secret. “Girl, you don’t know what you’re missing.” She looked around at the other women and began chuckling like an idiot.

“Oh my….” Frankie choked back laughter by making quick fanning motions near her eyes with the fingers of both hands, as she tried to finish her sentence. “Oh, my God we all meet at Tone’ya’s house…” Tears of merriment ran down her face. “Around midnight on the first Wednesday of each month and take turns screwing him on her kitchen table.”

Letting a loud burst of laughter erupt into the room as she finished speaking, Frankie fell backwards on the couch laughing uncontrollably. Her shoulder bumped Jenny who fell on the floor chuckling and snorting. Rayne and Tone’ya stared at me opened mouthed, before they too started laughing. Rayne, jumped around in small circles in her delight and Tone’ya, in her enjoyment practically skipped around the room. It was a little while before the loud laughter quieted down to giggles, suppressed snickers and one of the women were finally answer.

“Girl, I think you need some help.” Tone’ya tapped me on the shoulder in a consoling manner, wiped her eyes and resumed her seat. “I’ll have Sam come over here next Wednesday and we’ll do it in your kitchen.”

The raucous laughter started in the room again. The merriment was contagious and this time I had to join them. Ignorant to what they found so funny, but happy to shed some of my misery.

“Seriously now,” Frankie straightened herself before continuing. “Girl, are you crazy. No one sleeps with Sam.”

Stunned, I looked around the room at the smiling women.

“Okay, so none of you go that way, thank God. So why does he help?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Tone’ya swiveled her neck side to side. “I don’t ask why when someone is giving me something. I just take it.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’.” Rayne agreed. “If I can get me some money and some help and don’t have to give up no coochie…I’m there.”

Rayne and Jenny high fived each other as everyone else concurred with the statement. Still not convinced, I questioned them further.

“Tone’ya, how long have you known Sam?”

“Let’s see, my girls were three and seven when I first became involved. That makes it three years. John and I had recently separated and somehow he’d gotten into the house and taken everything. On that day, I’d just come home from a horrible day at work. As a matter of fact, I’d just been fired, ‘downsized’ as the boss said, but same difference as I see it. John had cleaned me out. He’d taken everything, the furniture, the food from the cabinets and even the furniture from the girls’ bedroom. To make things worse, when I went to get the girls from the baby-sitter, they were gone. Oh, my God I could have killed John. It's only by the grace of God he’s alive and wherever he is, now. I couldn’t believe he would do such a thing. I was afraid I would never see my children again. This is how it happened, a few days before the big clean out, John and I had a serious argument, you know me, if it comes to my mind, it comes out of my mouth.” Tone’ya nonchalantly shrugged off her fault. “God, I can remember that argument, I should say fight, as if it were yesterday…
*****

"Tone'ya, I've had it with you.” John held Tone'ya pressed against the wall by the grip he held around her throat. “I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but I'm sick of you thinking you can order me around.”

The malodorous smell of his breath rushed through her nostrils and made her want to vomit. Trying to keep herself from gagging, Tone’ya twisted her head from side to side to move her nose from his breath's direct noxious path and he pressed his face closer to hers until the tip of their nostrils touched.

"If you went out and got a job," She belligerently squeezed the words around his clenched fingers. “I wouldn't have to feel like the man in this marriage. I'm tired of taking care of your business. And I’m not a dog that you can curse and kick whenever you feel like it. I won't accept it in my house.”

"Yeah, you’re a dog. You seem to keep forgetting you’re my bitch and you do what I say when I say it. You seem to have a hard time remembering that you talk when I say so. You don't know when to keep your mouth shut.”

John stressed the last four words by banging the back of Tone'ya's head against the wall. The pain of her head hitting the wall, and the vibration of the thuds ricocheting through the bones in her head brought tears to her eyes. She could feel that her nose was still bleeding from the slap received when he had slammed the back of his hand into her face. Its warmth was sliding down her lips and dripping off her chin to the top of her shirt. As a matter of fact, her nose felt like it was broken. It hurt miserably.

"Okay. Alright, alright John, come on. Let go. You're hurting me.” She implored hoarsely.

Tone'ya pulled uselessly at his arms. Her nails scratching his skin, put gauges in the flesh, but nothing could dent his anger. The tears were running down her cheeks and air was becoming harder to drag in around his clenched fingers. She looked into his eyes in useless appeal, John was beyond caring. Turning her head to the right, she could see their youngest daughter standing and brokenheartedly crying in the bedroom's doorway.

"John," She looked back into his eyes. “The baby is in the door; please stop this for their sake.” She pleaded.

"You're damned lucky.” He pulled her from the wall and shoved her towards the king sized bed where she landed awkwardly. “I'm gonna get me a beer. You better make it your business to hurry downstairs and get my dinner on the table. Come on kid.” Picking up the little girl when he reached the doorway, John carried her away as he left the room.

Read their interview

Purchase-Amazon
Enjoy intimate, light hearted conversations with the characters from many of the stories in my ebooks. A way to really get to know the people you read about. They talk on Wednesdays and Fridays. Have fun reading the interviews with the characters.

Each e-book is available for download on Kindle , Smashwords , Sony or Kobo, Scribed
Nook and iPad here & here. and ready for (whatever model) your eReader to eat them up.

Be Thrilled By Books From Ey Wade

2012-04-22T14:27:00.000-07:00

I'm as proud as any parent with a house full of beautiful, talented children. I want to brag on their abilities and share their accomplishments. Below is a chapter or more of each of my books, wade in and enjoy.

Books by Ey Wade are found for the Apple Products: iTunes (http://bit.ly/EyinApple) and for Kindle (http://amzn.to/wade-inbooks)

( http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/writerswrite ), Smashwords , Sony, ( http://bit.ly/EyWade-sony) Kobo (http://bit.ly/EyWade-kobo ), and Nook (http://bit.ly/EyWade-BN ).

By the way, if anyone is willing to read and review, I'm willing to do the same for you. I can give free code through Smashwords or give a PDF. Are there any Indie souls out there searching (as I am) for reviews for their books? So far I have garnered a few very good reviews, but can always use more. As I am sure you can. I am willing to give honest reviews for an exchange of the same. Read excerpts (from each book pictured) below and let's get it started. If you are willing to swap reviews, leave your response in the comments. Thanks.

These are also places I am willing to post reviews. Other places included are Goodreads, Wade-Into Book reviews (my blog http://wade-intobookreviews.blogspot.com/). If you have a trailer for your book I will post it on my Video Blog site

( http://wade-inbooktrailers.blogspot.com/) Without further ado, let's get to it. Feel free to scroll down or click on link for your choice of book:

THE FISHING TRIP (Thriller)

What readers are saying about THE FISHING TRIP

Child Molesters Are Dead Fish In This Thriller,Debra Johnson

"This was a realistic tale of taking justice in your own hands. What stood out was the characters. I could feel their anger and taste their need for vengence. You hate to sympathize with this varied group of outlaws but you find yourself rooting for them as they take child rapist off the roles of society. Ms. Wade has done her home work on this book. Five stars....a great read at a steal of a price. Highly recommend"

A Perfect Read !!!!, sjp (uk) - Ms Wade, has shown the mastery that she truly has in the writing, construction, and execution of this book. It tells of how once you are something, no matter how well you try to mask yourself, the truth will ALWAYS rear its ugly head. The jumping back and forth works perfectly, as does all of the situations Ms Wade has created. I would highly recomend this book as a must read. I was unable to put it down, and felt a part of the story imbedding itself into me. 100% perfect !!!!

Brian Springer "Springer13" "A cleverly spun tale of retribution featuring a well-rounded cast of characters. It's clear the author has done extensive research on the subject of child abuse and is truly trying to make a difference with this book. I wish the nefarious nature of the town were explained a bit more but overall there was a nice balance of dialogue and exposition. A solid read, well-written and engaging. "

EXCERPT: CHAPTER 1

kerplunk

“My arms are tired, Durham. I’ve been rowing this boat for the past twenty minutes. My fingers are getting blisters. And if it weren’t so dark you would see I have a huge splinter in my palm. Why is it you always make me do the rowing on these trips?”

“Stop whining, Penny. Do you want to do my job? Do you think it’s easy to do what I do? Do you think it doesn’t tire me to crack someone’s neck with my bare hands?”

“I’m sure it does. I don’t know how you do it. Just hearing the sound of a person’s bones breaking makes me shudder and gag. Knowing I am hearing them release their last breath makes me wanna vomit.”

“That’s how I felt at first, but now I just want to get the job over and collect my pay. You can stop rowing we’re almost there. Pull the oars in and be careful with the poles. I don’t want you to hit this fool on the head.”

“What difference would it make? He is dead right?”

“Yeah, but I want no excess marks on the body or blood in the boat. Give me that rope from behind your back so I can tie this tarp around his body.”

Penny reached behind her and felt for the presence of the rope. Her fingers sliding on the damp wood encountered what she thought was rope, the slimy patches of surface causing doubt and illusions of Water Moccasins to cross her mind. Pumping her bravery she yanked it up, held it far away from her body, and pushed it towards Durham. The heavy weight and wiggle of the object not counteracting her thoughts of clearing the fear from her mind, for all she knew what she held gingerly between her fists was really a snake.

“Here it is, Durham. Stretch out your hand its right in front of you. Damn it’s dark. I can barely see your hands.”

“You tryin’ to say I’m too black to see in the night?”

“No. I know those are gloves you have on. I’m just saying it’s too dark out here tonight. I don’t even know how you know what’s really going on around you. We’ve been on the water three times this week and each time you knew exactly where to stop and it has been dark as all hell.”

“Experience pays off. I’m a creature of habit.”

“Sometimes that’s not a good thing, Durham. It could be your downfall.”

“It will never be mine. Cover your face there’s going to be a big nasty splash when this sloppy fat bastard hits the water.”

As the water rushed into the air and the odor of rot and death seeped in through her nose and flowed quickly and deeply to the pit of her empty stomach, she gagged. The small indention behind her ears began to burn, bile rose to her throat and she fought hard not to release the contents of her stomach in retaliation.

“Oh hell….” Retching fruitlessly, Penny pulled the neckline of her shirt to cover her mouth and nose. “You weren’t kidding. That….damn….water….stinks.” Her retching sounds causing a pause between each of the four words. “How many bodies have you fed to the fishes?”

“Too many to count and if I tell you….well you know the old saying. Hand me the oars. I’ll row back.”

“Thanks.”

Penny gripping the edge of the rocking boat tightly looked around at her surroundings. It was nightmarish dark. No stars, eerie clouds moved stealthy across the sky and a sliver of moonlight peered through the thick foliage of the trees surrounding the spot where the body had disappeared. It was damned spooky. If any kind of water monster wanted to jump up and grab them and pull them into the deep blackness, this would be the perfect spot. They would disappear and no one would have any idea where to search for them. She shivered in the cool darkness; they were as much a part of the shadows as death was a part of the waters.

“Where do you think the bodies go, Durham?” She whispered just in case one of those monsters from her childhood nightmares was more than a figment of her imagination. “I’ve never heard of anyone talking about bodies resurfacing so they must fall pretty deep or something eats them.”

Durham laughed at the fear showing in the expanse of the white in her eyes. She held her arms crossed tight across her stomach, the rocking of her body having nothing to do with the movement of the water.

“You’re not afraid of the dark are you Penny?”

“Hell fuckin’ yeah. Petrified pissless and I’m not ashamed to say it, either.”

Durham chuckled between the strokes of the oar.

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard anyone say that. You can stop being afraid. Nothing is going to stick its long slimy arm out of the water and yank you out the boat.”

“That’s not funny at all Durham.” She looked around and shivered even more. “Now that you’ve read my mind I’m really scared. It makes me wonder if you’ve ever seen anything creepy out here.”

“Well, if you must know, sometimes when I’m sitting on the porch of that little cabin up there, I look across the water and think I see a specter of a woman or a girl. I’m not sure which it is.”

“Really?” She didn’t know whether to be excited of afraid. “Where exactly does she be when you see her?”

“I’m kidding Penny, geeze. I’m probably just seeing the smoke from the cigar I smoke. In a couple of minutes we’ll be close to the shore. And don’t worry about any of those bodies coming up because I know for a fact they fall into a huge cavern and just keep on going. The cavern has a vacuum like suction, things go down and nothing comes up. That’s why I always make you stop rowing at the large cluster of branches jutting out at the curve back there. The current is strong and I don’t want to get sucked in. If there were any stars in the sky I would be able to show you where the safety rope was tied. It’s there in case we ever fall into the water. Remind me to bring a flashlight the next time we come out so I can show you. Talk about a scary adventure falling in the lake and catching the ends of that slimy rope at just the right moment, exhilarating. ”

“You get a thrill from danger, don’t you?”

“Yup, I get more of a thrill from getting paid big bucks for dropping sloppy fat bastards in a watery hole.”

“I think the real thrill for you comes from getting rid of perverts. These guys deserve everything they get.”

“You know it. This last one wiggled his way into the life and home of a single mom with three little kids. Poor woman really thought he loved her and all he wanted was to get into her bank account and to rape her children.”

“Sorry bastard.”

“Sorry dead bastard. I hope he rots in hell.”

“You know I think it’s a good thing to get child molesters off the street…hell out of the world, but how are you so sure you’re are getting the right people? What if you make a mistake and take the wrong person on a trip?”

“I don’t worry about it.”

“Wha…?”

READ INTERVIEWS (video)WITH THE CHARACTERS

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My Multi-Racial HIstory-Beads on a String

2012-04-22T13:32:00.001-07:00

View a little project close to my heart. America's on written celebration of multiracial history.

"....This is the story of the heroes of our collective past. What is incredibly moving is that so many of these heroes have gone unsung for so long. I can gladly recommend this book to anyone interested in the historical journey of the land we live in. Beyond that, I can just as easily recommend it to anyone who just likes a great read."Jonathan Ellis "

Books by Ey Wade are found for the Apple Products: iTunes (http://bit.ly/EyinApple) and for Kindle (http://amzn.to/wade-inbooks)

( http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/writerswrite ), Smashwords , Sony, ( http://bit.ly/EyWade-sony) Kobo (http://bit.ly/EyWade-kobo ), and Nook (http://bit.ly/EyWade-BN ).

( http://wade-inbooktrailers.blogspot.com/)

Beads on a String-America's Racially Intertwined Biographical History

"If you enjoy reading good genuine history, which is all about people, this is the most innovative and intriguingly honest perception yet, of America's roots and growth. Ey, An amazing work - very labor intensive - and worthy of a PhD (in my humble opinion, but what do I know). Your index is just as intense as the text, for God's sake! Finished your book, "Beads On a String!" Perfect for home-schooling; very complete, heartwarming and winning material" Kathy Brown

"Ey Wade has written a unique and important book that put all racial History under one umbrella. Wade has done a tremendous job collecting information on all races, and all subjects related to them. "Beads on a String" is a piece of History that was missing until this book came out. I highly recommend this book to anyone wishing to understand more about how multiple cultures shaped the US to what it is today. Two thumbs up! " Lola

DESCRIPTION: Ever wondered what America's history would look like if every race was included in one book? Celebrated daily? History was written in more than Black & White and Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History lauds loudly the accomplishments of all races that helped make America the great country it has become. America’s glorious multi-racial history is finally acknowledged.

EXCERPT: ABOUT THE BOOK

This is an independent research and education project

Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History is a recording of America’s glorious multi-racial history, celebrated within one cover.

Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History lauds loudly the accomplishments of all races that helped make America the great country it has become.

It celebrates such people as Hiawatha, who fought for freedom of his people. It applauds Lonnie Johnson who invented the ‘Super Soaker’, Dalip Singh Saund a member of the United States House of Representatives and Rev. Rick Warren who blessed the 2008 Presidential Inauguration. Beads on a String continue with the recognition of others such as, Arpad G.C. Gerster who was one of the first surgeons in America, and Yamato Ichihashi, one of the first academics of Asian ancestry in the United States. Antonio Meucci invented the telephone, Michael Jackson entertained; Minoru Yamasaki second-generation Japanese-American architect designed the World Trade Center, and Amadeo Peter Giannini who founded the of Bank of Italy, which later became Bank of America.

Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History never stops celebrating our heritages from the naming of the country by Martin Waldseemuller to the elimination of overt racial discrimination, through education, entertainment and to the glorious day of racial, political and social unification with Barack Obama’s Presidential election.

Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History will be a great asset to the educational system as well as in the lives of people all over the world. With the election of Barack Obama as President, it is clear; America is ready for a change. That change should take effect within the history books.

Video1:

A Change Has Come

The inauguration of President Obama ushered in a giant change in America.

Dr. Joseph Lowery former president of Southern Christian Leadership conference delivers the benediction as Barack Obama takes the oath as the 44th President of the United States of America.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure….”

Marianne Williamson

“Salvation for a race, nation or class must come from within. Freedom is never given; it is won.”

Philip Randolph

The Purpose of This Book

As a homeschooling parent it came across the mind of my youngest daughter to ask about a history book which talks about all the races within its bounded pages. She is a born optimist and hates the way we as adults seem to enjoy racial profiling. I as the mother and her instructor in life wanted to give her what she wanted, but I could find none. So, as a home-school project we decided to write our own, Beads on a String-America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History.

America has had great contributors within every century working hard together and yet each race would like to pull out their certain pages and categorize them into their own history book. And we truly believe if someone has a problem with our choice they would have to deal with it or well, get over it. Our main focus is to try and eliminate the division of a great nation by a single line, the hyphenation.

America as a nation has many problems and yet what other country in the world can attest to the fact that people or dying to be here? There is a dream in their heart to be a part of this great nation and to live in the land of good and plenty as a member of one body. So why do we keep the line of separation as a constant reminder? The hyphenation, a line that separates all races and the word American.

Beads on a String- America’s Racially Intertwined Biographical History chooses not to be about a certain color, but about a certain nation, America.

It is time for America to let go of the past and heal itself. The grieving period should have been over and the healing started. But every year, old wounds are torn open by the words Black History Month. Why don't we teach the children about America's History with everyone included? To me it seems as if only a few Black people are pulled out of the closet, dusted off the shelves and paraded in front of America as if to say, 'this one wasn't worthless', this one wasn't stupid'. Why is the ‘black’ in capital letters? Is it to point out a person of color has a brain or is it to pronounce to the world we have pride? If there is so much pride in America for Native, African, Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Iranian-Americans and other 'hyphened Americans, drop the hyphen and pull together and teach our children that every bead has a purpose and should be celebrated.

Visit the interview page

If you are interested in reviewing this book, please contact me. imtheauthor@gmail.com

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Sample Two of Ey Wade's Novels (Kids/YA/)

2012-04-22T12:39:00.000-07:00

This is my second selection of novels. I'm as proud as any parent with a house full of beautiful, talented children. I want to brag on their abilities and share their accomplishments. Below is a chapter or more of each of my children's books, wade in and enjoy.

Books by Ey Wade are found for the Apple Products: iTunes (http://bit.ly/EyinApple) and for Kindle (http://amzn.to/wade-inbooks)

( http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/writerswrite ), Smashwords , Sony, ( http://bit.ly/EyWade-sony) Kobo (http://bit.ly/EyWade-kobo ), and Nook (http://bit.ly/EyWade-BN ).

( http://wade-inbooktrailers.blogspot.com/)

Without further ado, let's get to it. Feel free to scroll down or click on link for your choice of book:

D.N.A (YA/Women's Fic)

CHILDREN'S BOOKS (Kids)

D.N.A.

a YA novel.

"....This book's for you if you love wrenching personal trials, emotional highs and lows, terrific descriptions of a young woman's movement through life and her internal dialogues, and beautiful writing. Full of extraordinary events, DNA will keep you turning pages until the very end." Carolyn Chambers Clark

"....This was beautifully written by Ey, mostly in flashbacks. Debney is a well-conceived character with spunk and intelligence, and despite the disinterest and lack of love from her mother, or maybe because of it, she is a warm and selfless character. Her closest friends, although diverse in character are likeable and their mixed ethnicity bonds them tightly. All the characters in this book were well-drawn, the story is nicely paced and the result is a delightful YA novel" Beeshon

DESCRIPTION: Debney Nichole Armstrong thought she knew everything about her family. She knew her dad worked hard at everything, except building a relationship with his family. She knew her younger brothers were typical little kids, and she knew without doubt, her mother cared nothing for her first born and only daughter. But what she hadn’t known was, DNA could ruin your life.

Eighteen year old Debney Nichole Armstrong, found out about her parents’ and little brothers’ death during the night of her eighteenth birthday party. Yes, sometimes relationships in families end tragically. People leave; parents die, and lives change, but does it all have to bring out the skeletons in the closet?

After one of her reoccurring bitter arguments with her mother, Debney is left home alone while her family goes away on summer vacation. In the chaos of a romantic (with her long time crush) dinner turned teen party, she learns of the death of her family. What she really needed to know was what role did her mother contribute to the ‘accident’? Where were the bodies of her ten year old twin brothers? Who is the strange man in her mother’s journals, and who is the father of the child she now carries? No matter what the answers are, Debney knows, nothing will ever be the same.

EXCERPT:

i. Sometimes Life Sucks

Debney clasped the rail to the stairs tightly, slowed her steps in an effort to control her odd side to side waddling movements, and hoped to forestall the possibility of losing her balance and falling over. No mean feat considering the large backpack pressing into her side weighed more than ten pounds and the huge odd shape of her near nine month pregnancy caused her to lean dangerously forward.

Looking down and into the hallway, she met the animated gaze of more than two dozen pair of eyes. It was easy to see that the giggling groups of students standing and gawking around their lockers were getting a kick out of her precarious situation, none were worried about her.

Straightening her shoulders and tightening her jaw she urged herself to show confidence. One stupid mistake and they would all laugh and she would have to spend the rest of the day trying to live with an added humiliation. It would be the last twang on her already bruised nerves, and she knew she would probably lose all of her self control.

Releasing each shaky breath, she exhaled slowly with each successful step she took. If she did fall,it would be her third tumble within one week and obviously not a good thing for her or the baby, but a definite show of entertainment for the uncouth high school ensemble. The pain from the fall she knew she would get over, but the embarrassment and the ridicule would be way too hard to swallow. Debney held the rail tighter and continued moving cautiously, she refused to let herself be the brunt of their humor once again.

"Fat pig on the stairs." chortled one as she elbowed Debney in the side.

"Girl roll on down and get out the way." Another laughed loudly.

"Yeah you're blocking everybody."

“They shouldn’t allow people like you in here, anyway. What kind of model are you for the freshman? A stupid girl, that sleeps around and then doesn’t have the sense to use protection, idiot.” The fourth turned and sneered at Debney as she bounced down the stairs after her friends.

Breathing in deeply, Debney let the long fall of her hair hide the mixture of fear and anger in her face, while provided her with a curtain to shield her emotions behind; the small gesture pulled in check her urge to retaliate. What she really wanted to do was grab them, one at a time, slit their throats and then throw them down the stairs. The visualization of their bodies slamming against the lockers and exploding amused her. She smiled slightly, as she imagined herself standing on the stairs, hands on hips, big belly bouncing while she laughed loudly like a raving maniac. And it would be their faults for driving her to insanity. The juvenile hate filled mass campaign the students of King’s Multicultural High School had organized to do her harm became more and more evident as her days to give birth grew shorter. It was no longer a laughing matter. True, she may have unwittingly caused some of the animosity to be pointed towards her, but endangering the life of an innocent baby was uncalled for.

The sudden flurry of independent movement of her shirt drew her attention from the chaos and noise around her to the presence of turmoil within. The baby’s hearty kicks seemed to mirror the anger burning through her veins. Resting her palm on the freakishly rolling inch of flesh under her shirt she whispered quiet words of comfort. Here she was nearly ready to give birth and she still hadn’t gotten used to the dance movements going on inside of her body. The small kick of the child against her ribs was the only hold to her restraint and sanity.

“Are you okay?”

Lifting her head and lowering it just as quickly when her gaze smacked straight into the concerned eyes of Giante’ DeVries, Debney sighed and cursed under her breath irritably. Not bothering to answer she continued on her measured course down, the action successfully causing him to move with her.

Giante’ walked the stairs backward and directly in front of her. His left hand sliding unhurriedly down the rail with the arm held stiffly, successfully giving the impression he would protect her from falling. His hands were huge, smooth and long fingered. And from what she tried hard not to remember, extremely gentle.

She felt the heat rise in her face as quickly as the shame entered her thoughts. Above all the others, she remembered him. Every thought she ever had of him caused her to ridicule herself. If the imminent danger of falling wasn’t weighing heavily on her mind she would have closed her eyes to avoid the compassion in his.

“You know it wouldn’t hurt you to pretend you know me, Debney. Hell we’ve spent every summer together for as long as I can remember. I’m just worried about you Deb.” His voice softened as he whispered the last part.

“I’m fine.”

Her voice came out in little more than a whisper. It had been days since anyone had spoken to her. Weeks if you subtracted the cruel, sarcastic tones of voices. She quickened her steps, trying to brush past him as soon as her feet hit solid ground but he as usual blocked her path.

“I haven’t seen you in a while. What with football practice and Spring Break, I haven’t had time to roam the halls, but I’ve missed you.” He bent down a little to try and see her face through the curtain of her thick dark hair.

His smile was encouraging and the only thing she could see of his face without boldly throwing her head back. No way would she be doing that, she just didn’t feel brave enough to follow through. The last time she let her emotions rule her actions all hell had fallen into her life. She kept her head down and watched her hands gently rubbing her stomach as she encouraged herself to respond.

“That’s fine. Giante' it didn't matter. Everything has been the same.” She sucked in a deep breath and tried to go around him, but was forestalled by his evasive movements. “Can you get out of the way? I have things I need to do before the bell rings.”

“Why do you always run from me, Debney?”

Closing her eyes briefly, Debney sighed deeply. She just didn’t have time for an interrogation. She knew anything she did out of her ordinary habit of scurrying through the crowd would draw unwanted attention in her direction. Standing still in the middle of the hallway was something she avoided as much as possible. When it came to finding a victim for harassment she was the biggest target and she preferred to be a moving one. Peering around his shoulder at the students in the hallway she took a steadying breath. Maybe if she let him have a few moments of conversation he would hurry and move and she would be free to go on her way.

Pressured beyond belief knowing she had a short space of time to get through the hallway to the restroom and yet not willing to give him access to such information, she fiend irritation, executed her best wiggling neck in the current attitudal broken hinged fashion, she answered louder than necessary.

“Why do you always stand in my way, Giant?” Her irritation at being confronted plainly showing.

"You know I don't like you calling me that, Deb."

Of course she knew. He had been teased with the nickname from the third grade onward. Ever since kindergarten he’d been shoulders and head taller than the other boys his age and after the summer of their fifth grade year he’d outgrown those same boys by another nine inches.

Tossing her head back to clear the hair from her face she commanded herself to look him boldly in the eyes, and immediately disobeyed. At almost seven feet tall, Giante’ looked like a god. A tall muscular well built beautiful Asian god and she loved him. A fact he seemed unaware of.

Looking around anywhere and everywhere but in his face, she noticed the movements and shuffling of the other students had practically stopped and the volume in the hallway lowered as it filled with more bodies. The sudden drop in the decibel of noise was a blatant sign of interest in the couple’s conversation. It was obvious the crowd of students were either pretending to retrieve articles from their lockers or outright listening to their discussion. She lowered her voice.

“I’m sorry, Giante’. I didn’t mean to shout or call you that. My last class was a nightmare and I really have something I need to do before the next one. Listen….” she grabbed the strap of her sagging backpack in preparation to swing it to her other side and he yanked it from her hand. The action caused her to lean forward precariously, only to be saved from falling by him stepping forward and bearing her weight in his arms. Moving quickly she righted herself and stepped back a few paces. Using both hands to brush the hair from her face she sighed and wiggled her shoulders in relief at the momentary removal of the added weight.

“Are you supposed to be carrying things this heavy?” Giante’ raised the bag up and down testing its weight. “It’s as big as your stomach and probably heavier than you are.”

“Obviously you know nothing about social graces when it comes to talking to pregnant women.” She reached for her bag and he switched it to his other hand and higher than her reach. “Or should I say women in general.”

She saw the heat rise in his face and felt ashamed again for causing him embarrassment. He used to be one of her best friends, one of the last ones to stand by her side, and all she could do whenever they met was ‘cause him shame.

“You know what, Giante'? Don’t worry about the size of my stomach. You should mind your own damned business.”

“Should you even be walking downstairs in your condition? Isn’t the baby due soon?” He ignored her small tirade, the concern for her welfare plainly seen through the softness of his eyes. “You should ask your mom….”

Debney interrupted his reprimand angrily. Moving without thought she stepped towards him and in less than a second she was so close to Giante’ that their stomachs touched. His immediate step backwards spoke volumes to his revulsion of the contact and she lost it. In her anger she poked his chest with the nail of her pointer finger.

“You know what; you should mind your own business and quit worrying about me. And just what should I ask my mom, Giante’? Ask her if she misses me? Ask her if she ever gave a crap about me? Ask her what she thinks of her only daughter being pregnant? If she’s glad she gets to spend eternity away from me? Or should I just ask her how she feels being dead?”

Stunned at voicing the questions she only repeated to herself when she was alone at night, Debney covered her mouth with her hands and stared at the hurt, mortified look on Giant’s face. She regretted hurting him, but she just didn’t have the energy to coddle anyone. All she wanted was to be left alone.

Before he could answer, a crowd of his football buddies and their cheerleader girlfriends surrounded and maneuvered themselves between the couple, successfully separating them. The interruption felt like a godsend and Debney decided to take the gift and slip away. Knowing it wouldn’t be long before their inane conversation would be directed towards her with derivative criticism, Debney reached for her bag, again, Giante’ held it out of her reach.

Taking Giante’s actions as a sign to continue the daily ritual of mocking and ridicule, Roody the jock nearest to Debney, jumped back as if it were detrimental to avoid any physical contact from her. He brushed his hands across his shoulders and down his clothes. His nose turned up in disgust.

"Man Giante' you need to stay away from DNA." He uttered the now hated acronym made from the initials of her name.

Looking around the group of laughing mocking teens, Debney admonished herself for having stood still and out in the open for far too long. Like a deer in a pit of lions she knew she had left herself vulnerable and open for attack. As usual she was stared at, criticized, and her stomach poked.

“You weren’t saying that when you were at my house.” Debney returned Roody’s look with equal disdain and stepped up to him. “I’m the one who should be wiping the disgust away.” Looking him up and down Debney turned her back and dismissed him from her mind. “High school is too damned typical and cliché. You guys need to grow up.”

“Hey if I knew I was going to be used like a piece of meat at that party,” Roody continued. “I would have stayed home.”

Debney scoffed at the rebuke and fruitlessly reached for her bag again. Giante’ ignored her frustrated glare and reached for her hand. Before their fingers touched they were separated again by the movements of the group.

"Yeah, Giante, you better stay away from her. From all of the guys I heard she slept with that baby can belong to any male in this school." Fabeola the head cheerleader poked the kicking twitching mound. “Eww and it moves.” She jumped back screeching and they all laughed.

“Hey, your momma named you right, DNA.” Another member of the team jumped into the conversation. “You’re a walking advertisement for the paternity test. Why don’t you go on that TV show, what’s it called?” He turned to the crowd in the hallway and they all shouted I’m Not Your Baby Daddy with loud laughter and cat calls before he turned back to her with pointed finger and continued talking. “You can find out who that baby’s daddy is for free. And that way you can scratch my name off the list.”

Horrified at the suggestion and the burst of guffaws and snickering laughter, Debney was stunned into silence. One of the three cheerleaders started pointing at the male students milling in the hallway one at a time. She twirled around slowly until she had pointed in all directions.

"You the daddy, and you the daddy, and you....”

Taking advantage of his divided attention Debney grabbed her bag from Giante’s loose grip and stomped away as quickly as possible. She wasn’t quick enough to avoid the laughter and the now familiar taunt which followed her and become the chant whenever she entered a room. DNA go away. Don’t spread your germs this a-way. If they only knew how much she wished she could get away from the life she was living, they would realize their chant was useless.

Her only wish at the moment was to get into the restroom and behind the doors of a stall before she broke down and cried. But as usual it wasn’t her luck. The girls who were at the sink washing their hands when she entered the room rushed back into empty stalls and those about to exit stalls stepped back in, their uniformed laughter and cheering her undoing. Those four were the main pain to her existence.

Where she had walked in the restroom feeling pity for her situation and hanging on the verge of tears, she now felt blinding rage. For nearly nine months she’d put up with their ignorant picks, taunts and their meanness as a deserved punishment for wishing her family dead. What she had failed to realize was her punishment did not include the right to let them focus their persecution on her innocent baby. This group of girls, which usually included Fabeola, had made it their daily mission to find a way to humiliate her. They'd pushed her down the stairs one too many times and only because of the unforeseen luck of always finding someone standing in front of her, she had not fallen too hard or been hurt.

Just the day before this same callous act of holding the stalls had caused her to wet herself and miss all of her afternoon classes. Today she was prepared. She’d made an elaborate plan the night before and payback was going to be a ‘muther’. She was tired of being a victim and tired of sitting back, letting others treat her as if she didn’t matter. It was time she stood up and protected the child she was carrying.

Stuffing the drains of the six sinks with paper towels Debney turned on the waters full force and watched as they filled quickly and began to over flow. The girls in the stalls so proud of themselves with their laughing, and cruel jokes missed the sarcasm in her voice as she repeatedly begged loudly for them to come out so she could go in. Every word from her; caused them to get louder and more rambunctious. Like idiots, they banged on the stall doors and laughed loudly. Unzipping the side opening of her back pack, Debney pulled out a wide roll of grey packing tape. Banking on the fact their loudness was drowning out the sound of the tape tearing, Debney moved quickly to tape the doors of the stalls shut. She knew it probably wouldn’t hold them in long, and they wouldn’t drown but it would make a point. Pulling a tube of lipstick from her purse she wrote a message on the mirror making it plain she was no longer playing. When she felt the water rising at her feet, she smiled at her success.

“Fine, stay in there for all I care. I hate all of you and I’m tired of taking crap. I’ll stay here as long as you’re in there.”

“Go ahead.”

“We’re not the one that has to pee.”'

“And we sure aren’t going to be the one who pees on herself.”

And the jokes and laughter continued. If she had felt an inkling of remorse for her actions, it was now gone. Pushing the tape back in the side pocket Debney pulled the typed ‘do not use’ sign from her bag and slapped it to the outside of the door, as she walked into the hallway. Just before she walked away she turned back and rammed the rubber door stop under the door in mimic of one of the tricks they had played on her.

Shouldering her way through the chattering students rushing through the hallway to their last class of the afternoon, Debney smiled to herself. She barely made it through the door and squeezed her big belly into her seat and under the desk before the bell rang.

****

She was flipping listlessly through the pages of her American Literature book when three of the girls from the restroom entered the room followed by the senior guidance counselor.

Debney’s gaze never wavered from the counselors face. She listened to the squishy sounds made by the shoes of the girls as they crossed the room to their desks and snickered. She tried not to laugh out loud when the one sitting closer to her swung her leg to cross it at the ankle and the water from the soaking hem of her jeans splashed onto the calf of the girl sitting in front of her. The accompanying protest and complaint was immediately quieted by the whispered explanation. Within seconds the bathroom incident was shared with the entire class and all faces were turned in Debney’s direction. The ensuing rush of bitter stinging comments of outrage and taunts were cut into silence by the upraised voice of the counselor.

“Debney Nichole Armstrong will you follow me to the office please.”

Without a word Debney slid out of her seat, sighing in frustration because she had to struggle a bit to pull the backpack along with her. Its cumbersome shape and weight causing her to bend and lift to get it through the small opening between desktop and seat of chair. As unintentionally as it may have seemed to the class, she swung it out just in time to smack the pointed end of the pen out of the hand of the girl sitting across from her. With repetition came knowledge. She had been stuck too many times and as she had said before, she was tired of taking crap.

Standing in front of the teacher’s desk Debney ignored the counselor and held out a card to the teacher.

“Ms. A, I just wanted to let you know I finally got around to filling thank you cards from my family’s funeral. I know it’s taken a long time. Put it down to too much going on in my life. I appreciate all you have done for me. I just wanted to let you know I decided last night that this would be my last day here. Since there are only two weeks left to graduation I won't be coming back. I’ll have my own baby to take care of in a few weeks and I’m tired of dealing with other people’s immature little children.” She turned and looked over the class with a sneer before turning back. “Thanks so much for your kindness.”

“You’re welcome Debney. Take care of yourself.” The teacher walked around the desk and gave her a hug.

“I will. My number is on the card. You can call me if you ever feel like it.”

Before she crossed the threshold for the last time Debney looked back into the room. “Most of you people are people I have known for my entire school career. We grew up together, learned a lot of things and have made mistakes I thought we were friends and yet you are the only people who have made me regret not having died with my family. Well, after today you'll never have to say ‘DNA you go away’. I’m gone.”

Following the counselor out of the room, Debney walked slowly through the empty hallway towards the administration side of the school building. The memory of four years of happiness was blurred by the horror and loneliness of the past nine months.

“Sit here, Debney.” The counselor opened her office door and pointed towards the sitting area of the room.

“Oh, God is this going to take long? Are you about to lecture me again? I’ve heard enough. Once a week I’m in here for something or other. I can’t take anymore I’m really tired.”

Debney crossed the room to the nicely arranged furnishings and let herself flop into the thick cushions of an armchair. Breathing in deeply she closed her eyes and tried to relax. She hated this room. She had been in the office more times over the past few months than the entire four years she had attend the high school. It was always the same thing. Nothing was her fault and yet, everything was her fault.

The moisture from the cold wet container being placed in her hand brought her back to the present. She looked at the item with disgust.

“Ewww gross. Why are you giving me orange juice Mrs. K? You don’t have a Cherry Coke?”

“Coke is not good for the baby.”

“Depends on the kind of coke it is. Some kinds can really quiet the kid.” She rubbed the now quiet mound of her abdomen as she looked the counselor in the eye. Debney getting a kick out of the look on the Mrs. K’s face sat back and laughed uproariously. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

Stepping away from Debney Mrs. K dropped herself into the other recliner; her arms spread wide, the flesh jiggling a little when hitting the armrest of the chair. The combined bounce of her wrist and the flop into the chair caused a small splash from her can of coke to spill down her hand and plop onto the carpet. Shrugging nonchalantly at the small mess Mrs. K. lifted and crossed her legs onto the coffee table in front of her as if she were tired as hell, and closed her eyes.

“You had better be. I know you don’t want CPS in your business.”

“God no not again, it took months to get them out of my life when the family first passed away. I don’t know what Good Samaritan called thinking I was a little kid on my own, but they very nearly caused me and the baby our freedom. Anyway orange juice makes me puke.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” She reached out and switched drinks. “Have you been eating regularly? You seem thinner than you used to be.”

“I eat three meals a day while at school alone. Can I help it if the alien within me sucks up all my nutrients?” Debney lightly tapped the bulge of her stomach and was immediately kicked in response. She laughed softly. “Already like his mom, rebellious as hell.”

“What about the father Debney? What are you going to do about him?”

“Which ‘him’ are you talking about?”

“Whichever ‘him’, you choose.” Mrs. K. sat up straight and took a sip from her drink. “Don’t worry you know I’ve heard all of the rumors.” She smiled a little. Having known Debney for a few years she fell into the casual joking mode. “From what I’ve heard there is a choice between quite a few from the football team. If it were me, there would be only one I would choose.” She gave a one-sided lift of her lip and sucked down the rest of her drink. The youthful action caused Debney to giggle.

“I shouldn’t have ever told you about my crush. Don’t worry about anything, I have it covered.”

“I’m really worried about you Debney. You may think you’re all grown up but you’re still a kid. Is anyone staying with you? Have you been to the doctor lately?”

“I’m using a midwife. Why do I need anyone with me? I’m an adult. I made eighteen a couple of days after….I’m eighteen now. I don’t need a babysitter. I may seem like a kid, but I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m filthy rich and want for nothing. I’ve got it better than a lot of the other girls running around school in the same situation.”

“No, you don’t have it better. All of those girls have a family. Whether they like it or not there is someone for them to run to. You’re alone and you need a friend. Hell girl what you really need is someone to talk you out of having a baby at home. Your first child and you so young, you need to be in a hospital with someone there when you go into labor.”

“Someone will be there. Don’t worry. I have all the money I need, a big house, and I don’t ever have to be alone.”

“Yeah, but you can get lonely. Who’s there with you at night? Who do you confide in Debney? Whose shoulder have you cried on since your entire family died in that accident?”

“Listen, Mrs. K. I made the mistake of crying on one too many shoulders the night I found out my family died and look what it’s gotten me.” She pushed herself into a standing position and rocked just a little at the shift in altitude. “I don’t need a shoulder. Feeling sorry for myself makes me jump to too many conclusions. I believed it when they told me my little brothers were dead and I gave up on them. You know they weren’t in the wreckage and I keep having the feeling I need to go find them, but I turned around, swallowed my feelings and had a funeral for them.”

“Debney you have to face facts, they haven’t been found. You yourself told me there was a cliff under the wreckage. They may have fallen over and into the ocean and will never be found. I know that’s harsh, but you need to face facts. You made a crazy trip out of the country hunting for them and nothing has changed. You have to accept the realities of life and concentrate on the next few weeks. Big things are about to happen in your life and it may be the change you need to pull you out of the dumps.”

“I know all of that and so I made up my mind last night that it’s ridiculous for me to keep coming to school. I don’t need any credits. My grades got me a scholarship and role as Valedictorian. And yet every day I continue coming here I run the risk of being killed because too many jealous ignorant little girls keep trying to push me down the stairs, or humiliated because they hold up the restrooms until I pee on myself. So if you took me out of class to lecture me about today’s restroom incident, forget it. I’m not hearing it. Bill me for the cleanup I’m good for the money. At least my parents left me something.” She turned to stomp out of the room but stopped and turned around at the sound of clapping.

“That’s good Debney. I’m glad to finally see some kind of reaction coming from you. I watch you daily trudging the halls, head down and looking at no one. You eat alone, you walk around alone on the campus and you go home alone. I heard you even fired the household staff. Who is taking care of you? Who’s cooking for you? Making sure all the bills are paid? I’ve talked to your teachers and we are all worried about you. Sure you do your work as usual, but you have lost yourself. You’ve locked down and closed out people in this school who care about you."

“People like who Mrs. K.? The girls I thought were my friends are now ignoring me and the ones I never had anything to do with have made it their life’s mission to make my days a study in mental and physical torture. It’s not that I want to be alone, it’s that I’m afraid to be around anyone.”

“Why do you think that is, Debney? Why have you allowed them to treat you so horribly?”

Excerpt Chapter Two

Smashwords

Amazon

PICTURE BOOKS
I believe the trailer is the best piece of excerpt for each book.
Visit "The Children's Corner"

BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM explores the advantages and disadvantages of being the middle child and shows how Gillean discovers she has the uniqueness of being the only sister with the ability to be either the eldest or the youngest child in the family.

What would you do to ease the fears of your child’s nightmares? In prose and illustrations, NOT A SOUND, NOT A PEEP shows how the family handles the nightmares of Mhia, the youngest child in the family

If you would like to review either of the books, please contact me.

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Wade In and Sample the Mind of Ey Wade (Women's Fiction)

2012-04-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

Books by Ey Wade are found for the Apple Products: iTunes (http://bit.ly/EyinApple) and for Kindle (http://amzn.to/wade-inbooks)

( http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/writerswrite ), Smashwords , Sony, ( http://bit.ly/EyWade-sony) Kobo (http://bit.ly/EyWade-kobo ), and Nook (http://bit.ly/EyWade-BN ).

( http://wade-inbooktrailers.blogspot.com/)

Without further ado, let's get to it. Feel free to scroll down or click on link for your choice of book:

THE PERFECT SOLUTION (Women's Fic/Suspense)

THE WOMEN ON THE HILL (Women's fic)

If you are interested in reviewing this book, please contact me. imtheauthor@gmail.com

THE PERFECT SOLUTION--A SUSPENSE OF CHOICES

Anger destroys a relationship. A teenage babysitter decides to go to college. A single parent places her child in daycare. A three year old is mistakenly given to a stalker by his pre-school teacher.

Mona Boots, deciding she wanted Brhin as her own, spent weeks stalking him and his mother. In her delusion to finally do something right in her life she enters The Perfect Solution Childcare Center and leaves with Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi in her arms. It’s a choice she is prepared to defend.

EXCERPT

Chapter 1-INTENTIONS

“Austin”

Yanking his coat from the back of the wood slated chair and practically tipping it over with the momentum of his movements, Austin Sanchez practically ran out of the detective's office. Outside of the door, he angrily pushed his arms into the sleeves of his smoke gray leather jacket and jabbed the 'down' button of the elevator.

"Doctor Sanchez." The detective poked his head out of his door. "Don't forget that you have to remain in town. Until your son is found, you are unfortunately considered a suspect."

"I'm not about to forget that too soon." Austin answered in a flat furious tone. He stepped into the elevator and stalled the door's closing by putting his foot in the doorway. "Just keep my name and number close at hand; you may want to put it on your list as a murder suspect before the night is over."

"Listen, Doctor Sanchez, don't do anything you’ll be sorry about," Warned the detective, pointing his pen towards Austin. "You'll find yourself right back up here and not sitting comfortably in my little office."

"Never fear, if I do anything, I can guarantee you I won’t be sorry." He jabbed his finger into the button that closed the door.

Shaking his head as the doors closed, the detective empathized with Austin's feelings. What a hell of a way to find out you’re a father. He had seen and heard a lot of things during his years as police detective, but this was a new one. To never know that you are a parent and then to get the knowledge when your child is missing had to be a horrendous blow to both your ego and your sense of righteousness.

Remembering the shocked look on Austin Sanchez's face, he had no doubts that the man knew nothing about the child's whereabouts. As a matter of fact, he had been afraid he would have to call the paramedics. The poor guy had looked like he was about to have a stroke.

"Man, what way to find out you are a father," The detective repeated out loud. Slipping his arms into the sleeves of his coat, he too left the building.

Unknowingly echoing the detective's thoughts, Austin stepped from the elevator and walked out of the police station. He was so pissed, the words swirled around in his head at such a rapid pace, he could barely think. If it hadn't been for the fact he was dead tired from spending the past eighteen hours between two different surgeries, he felt as if he could drive straight to Catrine's apartment and beat the life out of her. But then again, he was really tired. He needed a shower, a bottle of extra strength aspirin and a cup of coffee.

From the moment he had gotten home from work and heard the message on his answering machine telling him to report to the detective's office or face the possibility of being arrested, Austin had thought that there was nothing left in the day to shock him. Finding out he was a father and being accused of that child's abduction, had definitely taken him on a trip to another dimension. He recalled each step of the visit with each step he took towards his car.

******

"Come in Doctor Sanchez."

The detective ushered Austin into the cramped little room and directed him to a slate backed chair at a long wooden table. Shutting the door, he sat opposite of Austin with his arms folded, rocking back and forth on the rear legs of the chair. He studied Austin as if he were staring at a specimen under a microscope. Then, without uttering a word, the detective let the chair fall back on all four of its legs, the sudden thud startling in the quiet room. Tapping the unsharpened end of his pencil on the table as he studied the notes in front of him, the detective repeatedly hummed a couple of tuneless notes.

Austin, assuming that this was another form of police psychological torture, nervously glanced around the small room. It was a mess. The clutter made him fill slightly claustrophobic. Shelves, floor, and table were packed with files, office equipment, and other office paraphernalia. There was barely enough room for him to move. Breathing slowly, Austin strove to put on the face of extreme confidence. After all, he had done nothing wrong. He had stolen nothing. No one had died on the operating table while in his hands and he owed no one any money. So what was the problem? Why had he been called here? He could feel himself slipping into the Black man's sense of injustice and fear. No matter how professional a Black man became, the idea of dealing with the law could put mortal fear into his soul.

Examining the tips of his manicured nails and then the tips of his well shined shoes, he waited for the detective to stop the tuneless humming and speak. When the humming stopped, Austin thought he was about to learn the reason for his summons and he sat up straight, but he was mistaken. He watched the detective with a burning anger as the man tossed the useless pencil, pushed back his chair and moved away from the table, crossing the room to the coffee maker.

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Doctor Sanchez?"

"Why not, I guess I have nothing to lose by taking a cup." Deciding to get the show on the road, he employed sarcasm as his tool. "Maybe after that, you will tell me why you requested my company. Unless you called me here because you were lonely."

"No." The detective returned to the table and placed one of the cups he was carrying, in front of Austin. "Loneliness doesn’t happen to be one of my problems. As a matter of fact, my problem is really your problem." He took a sip from his cup.

Copying the detective's moves, Austin irritably took a drink from his coffee. The damned little detective was working on his last nerve. Having to sit at the beck and call of a White man made him want to return to his belligerent, defiant, and ignorant days in the Hood. The gulp of scalding coffee brought his control into focus and he coughed in annoyance. Slamming the cup on the table and spilling a few drops in the process, he then mimicked the detective's rocking movements.

"Doctor Sanchez where is your son?"

"What?"Austin let the chair's legs fall back to the floor with a bang. "I don't have a son. If you called me in here to badger me about some unknown child, then I'm afraid you called in the wrong person." Austin stood to leave.

"Do you know a Catrine Nechelle Teddi?"

"Yes," Austin answered hesitantly before he turned and gazed doubtfully on the detective. "I haven't seen her for a few years, though."

Pointing to the empty chair with an ink pen, a sure sign they were now getting to work the detective resumed his interrogation.

"When was the last time you saw your son?"

"I have never seen my 'son', because I don’t have one." Austin getting more irritated as the moments passed emphasized his response angrily as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"From what Ms. Teddi has told us, you do. The child is three and a half." He picked up the sheet of paper. "He was born on the twentieth of September."

"What?" He resumed his seat slowly, staring at detective in astonishment. "You mean you're telling me that Catrine had my child and she didn't let me know?"

"Is that what you’re telling me?"

"Yes."Austin covered his mouth in shocked disbelief. "How could she do such a thing? Isn't there a law against that or something? How can a woman keep the knowledge of a child from its father and there not be a law against it? Wouldn't that be like kidnapping or something?" He stared at the detective, but did not really see him. His mind, desperately trying to assimilate what it had heard, refused to take in anything else.

"Have you and Ms. Teddi had an argument lately?"

"I just finished telling you that I haven’t seen her in a few years. I'm talking about over four years, here."

"Four years," The detective repeated the words in disbelief. “So you're trying to tell me you don't know where the boy is."

"He's missing? You brought me here, tell me about a child I have never seen and then you tell me that he is missing. Am I going to be considered a suspect? Wait a minute; I am a suspect, right" Austin stood in agitation and paced the room. “Do you think that I took him?"

"Sit down, Sanchez." The detective stood and put his hand on his hip. His solid stance and the hand nearest the gun in his holster intimidating as hell and Austin sat."The mother reported the child missing and we always check with family members, first. You are not the only one we will question."

"I just can't believe this." Austin shook his head in stupefaction. “Catrine had my child and didn’t let me know. Do you have a picture of my son?" He looked across the room at the detective.

"No, an officer is on the way to meet Ms. Teddi now to get one." He sat back down. "I won't be able to keep you too long, but I do have a few questions that I want to ask you. I want to ask you a few questions about your activities throughout today. So sit back and calm down."

Taking a deep breath and picking up the cup of coffee so his hands would be occupied, he had spent the better part of the past two hours sitting in that hard bottomed slate backed chair, repeatedly answering the same questions until he thought he would burst with anger and frustration.

"Listen, I don’t know how differently I can answer you. I have never seen him. I have already told you the same thing repeatedly I have no ideas about an abduction. For all I know the child is not even my son."

He had stressed the statement. Losing all patience, but to no avail. The questions continued. Do you know Catrine Teddi? Where does she live? When was the last time you had any contact with her? How long have you known her? Do you think she would harm her own child? The same questions, the same answers except for the one that he had no answer for. Why had Catrine kept the boy a secret?

Angrily striding through the parking garage without a glance to his surroundings, Austin walked past his car and huffed irritably when he had to turn and retrace his steps. Pushing the button that activated the engine of his car, he cursed extensively when the car protested with an irritating grinding squeal as it was thrown into the wrong gear.

"When I get to my apartment and take a shower, I'm going to call Catrine," he promised himself aloud as he restarted the car. "I should just pop up at her house. I still remember her address. Hell, I should. It took me damned near a year to stop driving past there. This time, I will be damned if I just pass by."

Fifteen minutes later, Austin was parking his hunter green Chevrolet Crossfire near the door of his apartment when he noticed a police car sitting across the street and cursed again as he slammed the car's door.

"When I get close to Catrine it will be nothing nice," he muttered aloud.....“It will be better than beating it out of her, which would still be better than what I will do to the person who took my son."

Read interviews (video)with the characters If you are interested in reviewing this book, please contact me

THE WOMEN OF THE HILL
"The Women of the Hill took me by surprise. More a novelette than a full length novel, it's packed full of personality and energy. Within the setting of a close-knit circle of friends, realistically drawn with razor-sharp, true to life dialogue, a plot is woven of African-American women struggling to survive economically and raise their children in the face of marriages and relationships gone wrong. The ending was so surprising and shocking that I was literally biting my nails as I whipped through the pages. Ey Wade knows how to portray real characters and tell a story with equal parts humor and pathos...a story that never loses its punch." Georgina Young-Ellis

EXCERPT:

PART ONE

Initiation

Placing the nearly empty glass of orange juice back on the table and wiping the excess moisture from her palms Bianca picked up her journal and read the words she had just written. The words were an accumulation of at least three years of a relationship and a life time worth of change. Even the names in the journal were fictitious.

*****

I’m not even going to lie to you, yes; I was a whore for Sam. At one time I would have done just about anything asked of me to be a part of Sam’s world. Yes, Sam took care of me and he did a very good job of it, too. The degradation of the arrangement was the horror of it. I guess you would wonder how, huh? Well, Sam is not my lover. As a matter of fact our relationship was not of the intimate kind, at least not physically. The truth is I have never met Sam on a personal face to face level. Every facet of our relationship had been arranged through another.

What distresses me the most about letting Sam take care of me is the reality that for such a long time I depended on him to be my only source of support. From the very beginning Sam gave me everything food, clothing, money, housing, and medical coverage. When he turned his back on me without warning, I was truly devastated. With him, I wanted for nothing. Nothing but a peace of mind that is, because Sam was extremely jealous.

In the beginning, he was like a fairy godfather. Everything he promised he delivered, eventually even this began to pall. He was so demanding. In order to continue receiving support from Sam, I had to report all of my personal and private affairs to his hired financial wizards every three to six months or within ten days if any kind of changes occurred in my life. Sam found it hard to understand that having a minimum wage job, going to school, or getting a hand out from a friend did not generate funds into a bank account. At the crucial moment when it looked like I was about to step out on my own, Sam would turn his back on me. He would toss me to the side like worthless trash with barely enough to survive and then my only recourse would be to crawl back to him for help.

Whenever my girlfriends and I got together for our daily ‘4:00 Bash the Stress’ sessions (which was really our way of legitimizing watching Oprah everyday), I cried on their shoulders. I’d been doing this so often they began to laugh at me as soon as I opened my mouth to complain. Each one in turn advised me to get in touch with Sam. ‘Sam is the man’ said one. ‘He could solve all of your problems’ said another. I heard them say ‘Sam could do this and Sam could do that’ so often that one day as we sat in my living room chewing on chips and watching Oprah, I found the courage to ask…

“Who is Sam?”

“Girlfriend…”

“I thought you all had a ‘man’.”

They all laughed.

“Of course we do. The thing is; can we depend on them?” Tone’ya questioned with a smirk.

“No.”

All of the women shouted in unison and laughed even louder. They shared high-fives and fell all over themselves in merriment.

Tone’ya did the snap and arch thing again and everybody in the room cheered while laughingly bemoaning the faults of their men.

“Well, I can.” Skinny Rayne Moore, the youngest woman in the group stood next to the television and put her hands on her hips in imitation of Tone’ya.

We continued to laugh.

“You laugh, but I know my man takes care of me.”

“Who are you talkin’ about girl?”Jenny Needs questioned. “I know you not talkin’ about that fat, sorry ass, cradle-robbin’ Shamel.”

She raised her arms in the air and danced around as if she had gotten the Holy Spirit. Amen sister and you go girl were repeated over and over as we laughed.

“So all of you get something from Sam, huh?” I asked after the laughter stopped. “Did you all meet him at the same time?”

“No.” They all answered together.

“I hate to ask this because you all just don’t seem the type, but do you all sleep with Sam? Cuz I’m gonna let you know right now, I’m not into ‘kinky’.” I quickly added the last so they would know where I stood. Getting help was one thing, selling my butt and odd sexual acts were another story.

Letting a loud burst of laughter erupt into the room as she finished speaking, Frankie fell backwards on the couch laughing uncontrollably. Her shoulder bumped Jenny who fell on the floor chuckling and snorting. Rayne and Tone’ya stared at me opened mouth before they too started laughing. Rayne, jumped around in small circles in her delight and Tone’ya, in her enjoyment practically skipped around the room. It was a little while before the loud laughter quieted down to giggles, suppressed snickers and one of them could finally answer.

The raucous laughter started in the room again. The merriment was contagious and this time I had to join them. Ignorant to what they found so funny, but happy to shed some of my misery.....

"Listen, Phyl.”Tone'ya reached over the coffee table, deftly took the television's remote control from Rayne's slack fingers and flicked it on. This was an action that successfully put an end to the conversation.”You can't do wrong with Sam even if you use him for a little while. Instead of you questioning us, go and try him out for yourself.”

If you are interested in reviewing this book, please contact me. imtheauthor@gmail.com

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Readers are Enjoying The Perfect Solution~ Reviews

2012-04-20T11:17:00.000-07:00

Great Story, By

Cassondra - See all my reviews

This review is from: The Perfect Solution-A suspense of choices (Kindle Edition)

Ms. Wade, WOW, that's my feeling right now, after reading your book. I too was a single mother of a 3 yr old once upon a time and I had to place my child in the care of someone else, while I went to work. I tell you, one of my biggest fears was something happening to my daughter while in someone else's care. Fortunately, I was blessed and found a center that was excellent, but there are many centers that don't deserve a license. Childcare is big business now days and some owners will cut corners for the almight dollar. The regulations should remain strict, with a better check and balance system in place to avoid the scenerio portrayed in your story. I found myself holding my breath throughout the book, wondering what was going to happen next.

The relationship between Austin and Catrine was brought back on point, but it was sad that something tragic had to take place for them to come back together again, realizing how immature they both were in the past. Even though Mona had been abused both mentally and physically in her youth, her issues with mental illness remained. It is a disease that is taken too lightly. More research needs to happen, which may help in the development of medication that can bring balance to those affected. I will be reading more of your work.

Karen Doering "Parent's Little Black Book"

In this fictional story one mother finds out the hard way that appearance can be deceiving. Placing her child in a day care that seems to have everything, computer monitoring, adequate staffing and well decorated surroundings our mother thinks she has found the solution to her child care needs. But things are not as they seem in "The Perfect Solution" child care center. In fact, they are far from ideal. Lax security measures, untrained staff, monitors not operating when they should be make the center ripe for a kidnapping. All it needs is for one day to go horribly wrong and a child could be missing. This story has a good premise, interesting characters and a situation that all parents fear. How that situation plays out will keep you turning the pages.

Lisa -

This was an intense read. I found my heart beating from chapter one to the ending chapter. I recommend this book for parents to read. It was a quiet a startling book about how badly things can go wrong if you or the caregivers of children aren't alert about safety issues concerning children. I was appalled at the mistakes that were made by the school staff, and asked,"Could this really happen?" And the answer is yes. Ey Wade is a talented author and I definitely will be reading more of her work and expecting more good works from her.

Janet Brown "

I found this story to be very interesting as I was a daycare teacher for a few years myself for 2-3 year olds! Three and a half year old Brhin gets stolen from a daycare that seemed to be a fantastic place to be at on its looks but it really depends on the staffing if a daycare is any good. A lady who was abused as a child steals him away from the new substitute teacher and the police call in his father as a possible suspect who never even knew he had a son! The story goes from there with dealing with the complications this all creates! I enjoyed reading this story even though there were just a few misspellings that might have been done by the formatting. Looking forward to reading more of Ey Wade's books!"

Patricia Hardy "patticake 545"

The story dealing with the abduction of a pre-K student from a day care center shows the necessity for more stringent safety measures to be applied to all day care centers. The characters are sympathetically protrayed and you do feel concern for their perdicament, but you just wanted to shake the people who ran the day care center and ask "What were you thinking" I would recommend this to anyone who would enjoy a well-paced suspense story.

P is for....Pursuing the Possible

2012-04-18T10:06:00.000-07:00

I have had the honor of being included on the blog of a fantastic writer/interviewer, Mysti Parker.. As part of the A_Z Challenge I had the opportunity to write a post for the letter 'P'.

Check it out P is for...Pursuing the Possible

Perhaps the chase begins at the moment of the first perfect poom poom of our newly developed heartbeat. From that first blood rushing introduction into life we have kicked, punched, and struggled against the bounds to reach our goals. Pulled from the warmth of our mother's body we began our quest for pure happiness. Stand tall, believe in what you want and go for it, which brings us to the letter ‘P’, one of my favorite letters of the alphabet. It stands between the two fattest letters O and Q, Opportunity and Quitter and yet it always looks forward. READ MORE
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Debney Chats With Manasa of the novel Sari Caste

2012-04-14T08:45:00.000-07:00

Hello readers, thank you so much for joining me in a chat with Manasa. I'm Debney Armstrong a

Debney- http://bit.ly/Kidscrnr

character from the novel D.N.A. As my author, Ey Wade sat and read the novel Sari Caste I watched and read over her shoulder and was astounded by the incidents and indecencies this young girl Manasa had to endure in order to survive in a world dominated and ruled by cruel men. By the time the last page of the book was turned, I knew without a doubt, I had to talk to Manasa face to face. This is the outcome of our authors getting together and allowing this conversation to happen. Sit back, get comfortable and enjoy yourself.

Book description via Amazon: A courageous voyage through destitution, intrigue and murder. Manasa is abandoned by the man she should marry. He marries her sister instead. Meanwhile Manasa finds herself pregnant with his child. She flees her Bengali village wondering where to go. Eventually, she finds herself wandering the streets of Calcutta. Without money or food, life is a daily struggle. Finally, she is taken on by a brothel. She is desperately unhappy until she meets a different sort of man. This man she marries in secret and together they plan her escape from the brothel.

So, let's get started I am so anxious to talk to my guest. Manasa please have a seat.Feel free to be as comfortable as you want. First of all let me tell you, I was really surprised at the many things you went through in your life. Totally shocked at the ease in which you let yourself be drawn into the brothel. Your total acceptance of domination bothered me and I just wanted to fight someone for you. I guess because your lot in life is so different from mine in America. By the end of the book I totally understood your behavior. My first question for you is:

What do you like about your situation in your book? When I look back at all that's happened I'm amazed. I was terrified at the beginning of the book. Terrified but hurt, deeply wounded, and once I'd given birth...I'm sorry the tears came so suddenly with those memories.

Oh, don't worry about it I totally understand how easy tears can fall. I've been through a little drama myself. I'll try to focus on your questions. My situation back then was desperate. I did my best with what little I had.

For a little bit through the book I wanted to punch people for you. It was hard to sit and watch you go through some of the situations. What do you dislike about your situation in your book? It would be easy to say I dislike everything. It was painful and humiliating. After a little consideration, I would say that I would never be without my darling daughter Lipika; Dinesh, my husband; Supriya, my dear friend; and the other children. They sustain me and my sanity. Love is a simple word that exacts a demanding currency.

If you had a chance to rewrite your 'story', what would you change? Perhaps, I would be more accepting of Dinesh, but looking back gives the kind of perspective that my emotions would not allow at the time of events as they occurred.

What would you keep? Lipika, always Lipika. I would keep all I'd lost, but then there would be no story, or at least it would be much different. I shall keep the thought of how courageous I became, and the courage and faithfulness of my friends.

Believe me I understand that feeling. Once I had my child, I realized I would do anything for him. I don't know if I could be as brave and forgiving as you are. My family life was horrible before the death of my parents. Where it was your dad who rejected you, for me it was my mother. I don't know if I can ever get over that. How is your family life now?

My family, oh my family - the cause of my undoing. Maybe I shall see mummy and Kajal again one day. My family now are those with me here in Darjeeling: Dinesh, Supriya, Lipika and the other children. These are the ones who are important to me. I wonder sometimes about my father. I hope he treats mummy better these days. I still don't trust him.

I have thought about her with him, also. After all is said and done what do you hope people will learn/enjoy about your story? I hope they will learn about women like Mona, and how they deceive families and destroy children. When they learn about my story, I hope they will try to understand how hard I tried to help the children. I just couldn't do more. It was too dangerous for me and for them. I have nightmares about it still. Maybe one day the bad dreams will stop.

What do you really think about your author? My author became so involved with our story we decided to ask her to stay until the end. She asked many questions. It irked us at first, but she was patient as well as persistent. We knew she sympathized, because of the huge amount of time, energy and interest she showed in us. Our motivations, likes, dislikes, our backgrounds, and our living conditions and surroundings all seemed to matter intensely to her. She even wanted to know about the water, the electricity supply, and whether or not there was street lighting. Of course, the electricity is often unreliable, but we manage. She did sometimes come a little too close. We saw her tears while she wrote everything down and we forgave her curiosity then. She's our sister, and we know now how much she cares for us. Eventually, she had to say goodbye. There is always a place at our table for her, should she come to visit us again.

That is so sweet. I think Ms. Catherine Kirby did an awesome job in telling your story. I know you have to leave and I want to thank you for coming and visiting with me, Manasa and sharing your story with the readers of IN THE CHAIR . I really learned a lot reading Sari Caste so much so I have reviewed it here.

For now let's enjoy a word from the author: Catherine Kirby

Thanks for inviting me [and Manasa] to your blog, Ey. I've had a lifelong interest in reading and writing. I love the classics as well as modern literature. I think it's important to read a lot. At the moment, there are a lot of free books on Amazon to choose from, so finding something appealing to read is quite easy. If you discover an author of a free book you can then go and read some of that author's other works. It's a good way to develop new tastes and sample other genres.

For me, reading seems a way to share ideas and experiences that may not be possible to know about so intimately in any other way. It also creates a sort of interaction because you need to use your imagination to become involved in the story. Theatre and cinema are completely different media, of course, and very enjoyable. However, while you don't need your imagination to help create the scenes, you don't get to know the characters' thoughts in the same way as you do in books either.

I try to think of these things when I write. I've always loved creating stories even though some of them were abandoned mid way to begin with. It's so wonderful to become absorbed in the characters I'm getting to know, and their reaction to their situations I've landed them in. I like to explore relationships between family members and between friends and colleagues with the characters I create. I think it's important to make them rounded so that the drama is occasionally off-set with humour and vice versa.

Sari Caste required a lot of research, which I thoroughly enjoyed. It helped in directing and creating the story. See Through was entirely different. The research was minimal. How do you research invisibility anyway? I've found that the characters are the most important part of my stories and so these days that's where the research will be centered if necessary.

My present novel is typical of this. It focuses on four women and the way in which their lives impinge on each other, their reactions to this and the results of those reactions. I'm enjoying writing this. I don't have a great deal of time for writing, so I also do a lot of thinking about the story in between times. Writing is not always easy and there are times when it just doesn't flow, at all, but over all it is a wonderful process and I couldn't be happier doing anything else.
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See Through (UK) http://dld.bz/aHwyM (US) http://amzn.to/AxB7dC

Sari Caste (UK) http://amzn.to/xC5GbF (US) http://amzn.to/yIbEn8

Chat With Author-Danielle Nicole Bienvenu

2012-04-08T08:08:00.001-07:00

Hi, Readers. Thanks for stopping by 'IN THE CHAIR. It's a beautiful day outside today so I thought we would have our little chat in the garden. So, grab a glass of lemonade, choose any chair and as usual take a seat and get comfortable. Feel free to take your shoes off.

Today our esteemed visitor is author Danielle Nicole Bienvenu.
At 25 Miss Bienvenu is a professional author (Against All Odds: The Ruby Princess, 2004 paper back), (countless E-readers) and poet (Le Beau Coeur- The Beautiful Heart, 2009 paper back). She wrote her debut novel, \"Against All Odds: The Ruby Princess\", at 14 years old. She published it at 17. She became a professional model in print and on runway at 10. Danielle became a professional actress at 12; doing commercials and acting in a pilot series with Haley Duff and Shelley Duvall. She\'s won many international pageants and has been dancing from an early age, winning awards for her choreography and dancing; performing internationally. At 18 she received her Coat of Arms from France.

Danielle began song writing at the age of 6 and writing stories at 10. She is a graduate from Lamar University with a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science, and minors in French and Writing. Danielle is fluent in French as well as English. She is also a seasoned missionary. She enjoys playing guitar to her own beat, dancing in grocery store aisles and singing whenever the urge strikes. Danielle often travels with pen in hand.

Danielle currently resides in Texas where she teaches French. She lives with her two dogs: Annabelle and Toby. She is also a member of Faith Writers, an online forum for Christian writers. She is best known for her mystery and psychological thrillers, romance novels, poetic symbolism, and works against social injustices.

Hi, Danielle. Thanks for coming. The first question I am always curious about when chatting with an author is, is why are you a writer? When did you start writing, and what did you write about?

I first began writing lyrics as a young kid then later short stories when I was ten years old. I laugh when I think about it now because I wrote silly preteen stories of a group of friends in a series and illustrated it. There wasn't much to it. Thankfully, I grew drastically in writing.

What is the difference in your perception between now and the time you started writing?

The experiences I've had as I grew from a preteen to now have enlarged my scope. I've seen and experienced so much more so I'm able to write about it. My advice is to be open to opportunities and experiences. I write about every day people and I write about people of privilege, from love stories to murders. Not that I've ever witnessed a murder...

Please write a few lines about the books you have published, and what brought you to publishing each one of them.

"Against All Odds: The Ruby Princess"- I wrote it when I was fourteen years old and published it at seventeen years old. I had so much to learn and still do. It's embarrassing to admit but I'm a genealogy nerd so when my dad and I connected our family tree and found these royal families we came from it sparked my imagination as a kid. I thought, 'What would happen if a normal girl could change what her ancestors couldn't?'

"Le Beau Coeur-The Beautiful Heart" is quite honestly one of the most terrifying things I've ever done. It's so honest and bare. I literally took the pages from my poetry and lyrics journal and published them. My friends would tell me a poem or song really resonated with them so I thought the best thing would be to reach out to others with it.

"Running From My Shadow"- I'd have to say this is probably my baby out of all my books. The main character loses the love of his life then remarries. Years later he discovers the love of his life is actually alive but now he can't be with her. It's filled with suspense and a surprising twist. This book was born from me losing the person I deemed to be the love of my life and when we found each other again we couldn't be together.

"My Brother's Keeper" is also close to my heart. It's about twin brothers. One is murdered and the surviving twin seeks to find his brother's killer and avenge his brother's death. I played on the stories of Cain and Abel and Isaac and Esau in the Bible. It's a high pace thriller.

"The Gilded Mirror"- An Austrian girl is forced to become a maid against her will so she can return home. It brings light to social injustices and the idea of hope.

"He's Mental, That's Why"- A girl in a small town wants to see the world then she comes across a boy who makes her second guess everything. He leaves but when he returns she's gone after her own dream. I used to be a lot like the main character in high school.

"Escaping Lila"- Lila feels her death coming on slowly and no one else seems to notice it. I took a fragment from my love life and showed the aftermath of lost love.

"The Elopement" is loosely based on my Grandmere and Grandpere's story. He was a poor Frenchman from Louisiana and she was a wealthy girl with the world at her fingertips who eloped to be together. I grew up listening to the stories of their love.

"Roberts, Dana, 21." is another psychological thriller. Dana is a case study to everyone around her. She lost the memories of who she is, what happened to her and with it, the very person she was seeking when the worst thing imaginable happened to her. I played it on my own previous memory struggles about a relationship and amped it up times a thousand.

"The Life of Virgina Wargenheimer" is a comedy I wrote in high school for a good laugh. No one listens to the main character and she has a dramatic sense of humor.

"Once In A Lifetime" is very loosely based on my first love that began very much like best friends, Kate and Anderson's story, including the separation only their ending and mine was completely different. I wanted a character women could say "Hey, that's me. I've been there." I wanted the reader to think about how she directs her own course.

"Taming of the Free Spirit"- Is about two young people's transformations to become the people they will be while forced into marrying each other. The girl is a total free spirit and her future husband seeks to tame her.

"Changing Stripes" is a short piece against racism and what happens when a Caucasian girl falls in love with a Hispanic boy. Their cultures try to keep them apart and the main character cannot fathom why people won't see her for who she is and not for the color of her skin. Racism separates two people that are very much in love. This was another one I pulled from my experiences. Are you noticing a pattern here?

"The Right Kind of Perfect" is another comedy about teenage Tessa who is accused by the entire town of being a bird killer.

Beautiful covers. With your extensive library I see you take your gift as a writer very seriously. Are you working on another book?

"Sarah's Secret" is my latest e-book. This was a difficult one for me to publish but I'm so glad that I did. I've had more people generate an interest over this book than I thought possible. Sarah was molested as a child. Rejected by her family she starts a new life, one where she can save other children from what happened to her.

Sergeant Elijah Ryan is caught in Iraq fighting a war he isn't sure anyone wants him to win meanwhile he is angry with God for taking his family. I'll admit, I have a thing for soldiers so it was easy for me to paint Elijah with words. I went through a similar situation as Sarah when I was a child so writing this book was really more of a therapeutic experience for me to be heard and to reach out to others.

Wow, I bet having such a similar experience would make the telling of the story hard, but most definitely would be filled with emotions. Sarah's Secret sounds as if it would be a good read. Now, that you have bared your soul, what are you writing about now and why are you writing this book?

Oh boy. The tentative title is "What Am I?" about two souls that knew each other intimately in heaven's holding place of unborn souls that were later separated when they were sent to earth. Danny, the main character never feels complete without the other soul, Jade, and has reoccurring memories of his time before earth with her. He struggles in what would otherwise be a comfortable life. The story takes place on Galveston Island which is close to home. I've toyed with the idea of writing a story that takes place there for some time.

Tell me, how do you go about writing your books? Do the ideas just pop in your head or do you have to plot and plan?

Honestly, majority of the ideas do just pop into my head. My family and friends always ask me, "Where do you come up with this stuff? How do you have time to write?" My answer is I write instead of sleeping or eating. It's a passion really. No writer writes unless they are compelled by a fire inside them to do so. Sometimes my work is inspired by similar events I've experienced and twisted around to create a more intense pull to readers. It's the "What would I want to read while curled up on my sofa?" thought. I've always had a wild imagination.

How would you describe your writing style?

I use a lot of symbolism and metaphors, not just in my poetry but also in my books. I've been known to use storms to usher in someone or something in my plots. I love storms.

Where can the audience purchase your books?

Since I have paperback and e-books by different publishers it's easiest to go to my official author website at: www.DanielleBienvenu.com. Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Books-A-Million, and Borders all have my paper back books for sale online and Le Beau Coeur as an e-reader. My 13 e-books are at: www.smashwords.com/profile/view/daniellebienvenu

I have a habit of talking (interviewing) to the people in my books. How do you communicate with your characters?

No, I don't communicate with them actually. It's more of a conversation between myself and myself. Or I think what would I do in this situation? What would a normal person do? What would my ideal man do? Most of what I put on a page I've thought before.

If I were to interview one or two of the characters from your novel what do you thing he/she would say about the role you put him/her in? Do you think they would like the book?

I'll draw from my latest book, "Sarah's Secret." Elijah Ryan would probably say, "Why the hell did you have to blow my leg off and kill my family? I'm supposed to be the hero." Elijah would like that he gets what he wants in the end but I think his war buddies, like Mitch, might enjoy it even more.

What hobby or activity do you enjoy other than writing?

I love anything creative. I write lyrics and record them on my guitar. I'm still such a book worm. My mother used to tell me to put my stack of books down on summer vacations. I love dancing in nearly any style you can think of. Black and White photography is also a guilty pleasure of mine. I love traveling, specifically doing mission work. I'm a foreign language and history nerd. I like the outdoors and rough-housing with my dogs.

*Ey laughs softly* Wow, you do stay busy and I see our time has run out so why don't we go and mingle with the guest.. But before we sign off, I want to thank you, Danielle for taking time out of your busy schedule to share your life and writing experience with our visitors. Feel free to stop by anytime so we can chat again.

Visit Danielle on Facebook

Checkout here books on Smashwords

Visit The Book Promo Group

2012-04-07T09:41:00.000-07:00

Check out this site, Book Promo Group it is the most awesome place for the readers to find and connect to fantastic Indie authors. Facebook

My pages:

http://bookpromo.weebly.com/ey-wade2.html CHILDREN

http://bookpromo.weebly.com/ey-wade1.html THRILLER

http://bookpromo.weebly.com/ey-wade-1.html NONFIC

http://bookpromo.weebly.com/ey-wade.htmlWOMEN

http://bookpromo.weebly.com/ey-wade3.htmlYA

A Small Taste of The Perfect Solution

2012-03-25T07:44:00.001-07:00

Anger destroys a relationship.
A teenage babysitter decides to go to college.
A single parent places her child in daycare.
A three year old is mistakenly given to a stalker by his pre-school teacher.

Mona Boots wanted Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi as her child. She watched over him daily, as any mother would. In her delusion to finally do something right in her life, she enters The Perfect Solution Childcare Center and leaves with Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi in her arms. It’s a choice she is prepared to defend.

The Perfect Solution is a suspenseful analysis of choices and how those choices affect the people around us. It entertainingly highlights the misguided parental trust and negligence in the childcare system.

Enjoy interviews with the main characters.

Free today @ Smashwords use code Tj57c during checkout.

Chapter 1-INTENTIONS

“Austin”

"Doctor Sanchez." The detective poked his head out of his door. "Don't forget that you have to remain in town. Until your son is found, you are unfortunately considered a suspect."

"Never fear, if I do anything, I can guarantee you I won’t be sorry." He jabbed his finger into the button that closed the door.

"Man, what way to find out you are a father," The detective repeated out loud. Slipping his arms into the sleeves of his coat, he too left the building.

******

"Come in Doctor Sanchez."

"Would you like a cup of coffee, Doctor Sanchez?"

"Doctor Sanchez where is your son?"

"Do you know a Catrine Nechelle Teddi?"

"Yes," Austin answered hesitantly before he turned and gazed doubtfully on the detective. "I haven't seen her for a few years, though."

Pointing to the empty chair with an ink pen, a sure sign they were now getting to work the detective resumed his interrogation.

"When was the last time you saw your son?"

"I have never seen my 'son', because I don’t have one." Austin getting more irritated as the moments passed emphasized his response angrily as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"From what Ms. Teddi has told us, you do. The child is three and a half." He picked up the sheet of paper. "He was born on the twentieth of September."

"What?" He resumed his seat slowly, staring at detective in astonishment. "You mean you're telling me that Catrine had my child and she didn't let me know?"

"Is that what you’re telling me?"

"Have you and Ms. Teddi had an argument lately?"

"I just finished telling you that I haven’t seen her in a few years. I'm talking about over four years, here."

"Four years," The detective repeated the words in disbelief. “So you're trying to tell me you don't know where the boy is."

"I just can't believe this." Austin shook his head in stupefaction. “Catrine had my child and didn’t let me know. Do you have a picture of my son?" He looked across the room at the detective.

"When I get close to Catrine it will be nothing nice," he muttered aloud. "First, I get the humiliating visit with the police and now I have a police car sitting outside of my apartment, watching me as if I’m some common criminal."

Running up the stairs and opening his apartment door, Austin immediately went over to the telephone and punched out Catrine's number with the tip of his middle finger, cracking the nail with the force of his anger.

"Same number," he grumbled when he heard her voice on the machine. "I bet the girl is still driving that dangerous little sporty Jaguar, and with my son in it, no less."

Barely able to restrain himself from voicing his anger and frustration, he left a brief message on her answering machine; he let out an utterance of irritation which sounded more like a growl before slamming down the receiver and began to strip for a shower. Standing rigid under the water and hoping that the soothing drops would calm him, he closed his eyes and turned his face to the stinging hot spray. As the water ran down his cheeks he let himself remember the last night they had spent together.

Over the years that they had been apart, he had dared himself to even bring her name to memory. It had hurt him deeply when their relationship ended and his male pride refused to let him go crawling back. Until the day Catrine had thrown him out of her life, he had not realized just how much she had meant to him. He’d felt as if he would die and had spent many days on the verge of tears. For a man of his years that had been a new experience. He had walked around his apartment with barely enough energy to move. He couldn't concentrate. A terrible thing when you are a surgeon. Finally, he had run to his mother like a wimpy little woman and cried on her shoulders. He told her how clinging Catrine had become. How much the girl wanted him in her life and how much the idea of living with someone frightened him.

"Tin," his mother sat on the sofa looking up at him in barely disguised amusement. She patted the palm of her hand on the cushion next to her

"Honey, sit. You’re hurting my neck. What with me looking up at the ceiling and swinging my head to follow you as you wear out the carpet with your incessant pacing; I may never be able to use my neck again." She laughed and patted the spot again when he scowled. "Honey, if you cared that much for this girl, why in the world did you break up with her? She sounded like a dream to me."

"What are you talking about, Mom? Didn't you hear what I said? This woman believed that she owned me. Every time I turned around, she was there."

"You mean she stalked you," his mother stated, tongue-in-cheek, almost laughing when he threw his hands in the air.

"No." He stood back up. "No, I mean it was like we were never apart. She was just always there. When I got off work, I went to her apartment or she came to mine. When we could, we ate lunch together. She was just always there, washing dishes, clothes, cleaning the apartment, cooking, relaxing...Mom. Mom, stop laughing this isn’t funny. I just felt… I don't know."

"Loved? Wanted?"

"No, trapped." he sighed in disgust. "Mom you think this is funny but it isn't. No matter what I did she never trusted me. She was always thinking that I am messing around with someone else."

"Was she seeing anyone else?"

"No. As a matter of fact I'm the only one she ever...why am I having this conversation with you? I'm going to Dallas' house. He and Houston are watching the game on television."

"Yeah, you do that. Your brothers could probably help you a lot better than I can. I think that sometimes you forget that I am a woman. And as such I can understand how this girl feels. If I caught your drift, you're the only person this girl has ever slept with, right?" She continued when he put his head down and studied the circle he was making with the toe of his shoe and didn't answer. "Just that fact would make the girl very emotional. She.... Uhm, what's her name?" His mother stopped in mid sentence.

"It doesn't matter. I won't be seeing her again."

"Right," She scoffed in disbelief. "If it doesn't matter, tell me her name. Would I like her? How old is she? Where does she live? How long have you been seeing her? Who are her parents? And she doesn't sleep around, huh? She sounds like a winner to me."

Austin looked at his mother dubiously.

"Mom, don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

"If you answer a few of the questions I would be able to give you an answer.”

"That's okay Mom. Let it pass. I'll be back." He walked backwards to the door.

"Fine, go talk to your brothers. Just don't let those chauvinistic macho older brothers make you feel or do something you'll regret later in life. Let them make you wimp out of your true feelings. Make you believe you are whipped or anything. I know how men get when they’re together. You know I always tell you guys you can tell me anything. This time I think you may have to do this on your own. Maybe even think with your heart and not your head."

He opened the screen and stepped onto the porch. "Yes, Ma’me I will." He turned and almost ran to his car. Laughing to himself as he got behind the wheel.

Old habits die hard. His could mother always make him admit more than he wanted. Just by sitting and listening. She had never made judgment on them for whatever they had done. She had let them do it to themselves. Using subtle questions, knowing smiles, and well-placed remarks, they had always known how she felt about an incident and what their responsibilities were.

During the many more conversations he and his mother had while he was visiting, he never told her how much he missed seeing Catrine's smile and hearing her tell the corniest jokes. Nor did he tell her how he missed the conversations he and Catrine would have after making love.

And she, as his mother, never dug too deep. She just fed him delicious home cooked meals and sat near him when he was at his lowest. For the two weeks he lived in her house, moped around, and welcomed her comforting words until she had booted him out and ordered him to go back to work with the promise that his heart would heal and he would live. Austin hadn't believed his mother's words just like he hadn't believed that the last night with Catrine would really be the last.

We're Free This Weekend

2012-03-24T09:19:00.001-07:00

A Conversation from the characters of THE PERFECT SOLUTION

*A three year old is mistakenly given to a stalker.*

Brhin-Kristoffer Teddi

My mom says our author, Ey Wade has set us as 'free' for this weekend and if you go here you can get a whole book for NOTHING! All you have to do is put in these letters: tj75c . I don't know what they mean, but I like free books.

Austin Sanchez-Father

I'm so glad the story is free for all to get. This book took me through a whirlwind of emotions. The only good thing that came out of it was the fact I now have a son I knew nothing about *side eyes Catrine* I am so glad its over and I can start living a normal life.

This is a good thing Ms. Wade has done. Even though the story of when you were mistakenly given away, Brhin was scary and entertaining for the readers, it also taught me a lot about dealing with daycare centers and being observant to what is going on around us.

So, everyone go here and download the book by putting in the code tj75c that Brhin mentioned earlier and enjoy a memorable read.

If you want to read interviews between us and our author visit here

Little Girls and Easter Bunnies

2012-03-20T18:37:00.000-07:00

A strange thing has happened- our IN THE CHAIR studio has been taken over by little girls and the Easter Bunny.

Ian's Facebook Avatar

Since it is so close to Easter I have gladly stepped back and let my characters Gillean, Mhia, and JaKarra from the picture book series 'In My Sister's World' interviews Charlie Rabbit from the novel Charlie Rabbit-The Easter Bunny by author Ian Davies . Read my review of the book here.

Charlie Rabbit is available as part of 'Charlie Rabbit's Adventures' series on Amazon.. Other single stories available in this series include:

Charlie Rabbit Discovers Christmas Day

Charlie Rabbit and the "Haunted House"

Charlie Rabbit Goes Fishing

Charlie Rabbit Goes To The Seaside

Charlie Rabbit - Train To Funtown Park

Charlie Rabbit Goes Pony Riding
Charlie Rabbit Goes to Zoo

Okay, now that the business part of this is over, let's move on to the interview. From where I'm sitting (far off into the corner) The little girls are sitting at the cutest little table all set up for a tea party. Think Alice in Wonderland cute.

An Interview with Charlie Rabbit!

JaKarra, the eldest of the three sisters starts the interview by introducing everyone and placing trays of snack on the table. She and her sisters take turns shaking the paws of their fuzzy guest.

Jakarra: Hi Charlie, So glad you could make it. Where are you from?

Charlie: Hi, I live in my very own little house at the base of an oak tree in the New Forest in Hampshire England. It is a lovely place to live as you know from my Christmas story, it is so pretty there and the other animals are so friendly.

Gillean: What has been your worst day ever? (She pours and hands him a cup of tea

Charlie: Well not a really bad day, but when I went pony riding for the first time I did get a little sore and I am pretty sure my best friend Red the squirrel thought it was highly amusing. But then he does find a lot of things amusing and we often end up having a lot of giggles when we are together. He is a great friend and we often help each other out.

Mhia (the youngest. Just adores ponies):Tell me about the pony ride.

Charlie: Well it is in my 'Goes Pony Riding' story already, but the pony is called Mack. Apparently, he told me, he was named after an American truck and his ancestors came to England from New York.

Mhia (quickly shoves a plate of cookies in front of Charlie. She wants one badly but was instructed by her mom to wait for her guest to eat first) How did you come to meet Red the Squirrel?

Charlie: Hahaha ! That was a funny day. We met when I was being nosey really. I had a look around this very old derelict house and he made me jump. Well not scared you understand, but I did wonder what the strange noise was. This is explained in my 'Haunted House' story, but of course it wasn't really a haunted house. Red and I have been best buddies ever since and his family are so nice and thoughtful.

Mhia: I just love animals.What other animals live in the forest?

Charlie: Well there's Mr Badger, I don't often see him as he really does not like the daylight, and hides away when it is sunny. He talks really slow and low and sounds asleep even when he is awake :)
Then there's all the different birds in the trees, they sing a lot and make a very pretty noise.
There is also Farmer Michael, his children and the children of the other farmers. We don't spend a lot of time together but at Christmas and Easter it is nice to do something with them like playing in the snow and throwing snowballs. That is great fun! and of course there is Easter and the egg hunt when I get to be the Easter Bunny.

Jakarra: How exciting! I love Easter and the candy. (JaKarra laughs little)

Mhia: I like holding bunnies. (Charlie wiggled his ears nervously and scooted out of reach.)

Gillean: Mr. Charlie doesn't like to be held, Mhia. What is your favorite story and why?
Charlie: I like the Christmas story the best. Partly because it was my first adventure and my first ever Christmas and the wonderful surprise it was for me. I will always remember that day for sure. Also because I learned a lot that day and the time spent playing outside made it even better. I will always remember that Christmas.

Gillean:What is your favorite food?

Charlie: That's an easy one. I am a rabbit so it has to be carrots, though I do like cabbage as well and quite a few other vegetables. It is lovely when Red's mother does the cooking and invites me round for dinner.

I see our time is up and we have to say good bye.Thank you for coming by Charlie.
Charlie: You're welcome, and if you ever get to the New Forest be sure to look me up. I will be happy to make you a nice cup of tea!
Gillean: Don't forget, all books mentioned can be purchased through Amazon.
Visit Charlie Rabbit on FB
View each of the books here

Debney's Visit at Character Interviews

2012-03-13T08:49:00.001-07:00

Hi, Debney here. I'm the main character from the novel D.N.A. I'm living a major 'soap opera' of a life. And not just because I'm a teen. There's death, betrayal, bullying, pregnancy...must I go on?

Ey Wade

Anyway, I just wanted to pop in and share with everyone the interview I had with a very nice lady, Greta Burroughs. She invited me to her page "Character Interview' and my author Ey Wade very graciously allowed me to go. I had a super time. Was a tiny bit nervous, but Mrs. Burroughs kept the questions simple and she was really kind. So, go on over to Character Interviews and check out the interview.

Feel free to read:

Excerpt Chapter1

Excerpt Chapter Two

BUY THE BOOK HERE:

Kindle , Smashwords , Sony or Kobo,
Nook and iPad

Living Reality

2012-03-01T11:17:00.002-08:00

Hello readers. I know it has been a while since we had an interview with one of the characters. Today we welcome Debney Nichole Armstrong from the novel D.N.A. to THE CHAIR.
Please note, D.N.A. is available for FREE download until March 10th on Smashwords. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/84319

Author: Please explain to the audience in your own words what D.N.A. is about.

Debney: The novel explores the emotions I have to suffer through while living in a super dysfunctional family, my horrible mistakes in judgement, the fact I end up pregnant after a wild party and hopefully shows a powerful act of survival.

Author: So, Debney. I'm so glad you can take a few minutes away from your busy life to explain this chapter. Looks as if you are on a reality show. With all of the drama you have been through lately, what would make you do such a thing?

Debney: Believe me. Appearing on that slush of a show was the last thing on my mind. Between the guys from high school and Giante' s mother I had no choice. It is an experience I never want to go through again. All I want to tell your audience is, please enjoy the excerpt and leave comments on your opinion.

Author: Thanks. You heard her audience. Please read and leave a comment.

D.N.A.~ On the night before a planned family vacation, Debney is inexplicably excluded. After a bitter argument with her mother at being barred from family vacations, especially one so close to her eighteenth birthday, Debney arranges a romantic dinner with her long time crush. During the chaos of dinner turned teen party, she learns of the death of her family. Yes, sometimes relationships in families end tragically. People leave; parents die, and lives change. But does it all have to bring out the skeletons in the closet?
EXCERPT:

x. And Nothing Will Ever Be the Same

Pulling the Mercedes to the valet parking area of the 'You’re Not the Daddy' studio, Debney grabbed the diaper bag from the passenger seat, got out and folded the driver's seat in preparation of removing the baby and his carrier from the car.

"Let me give you a hand."

Debney looked over her shoulder at the man standing near the car’s side-view mirror. She read the name 'Phil' on the tag around his neck, proclaiming him as a member of the studio's valet parking staff, but still felt reluctant to put her trust in him.

"That’s okay. I got it."

Phil chuckled loudly, his overweight belly shaking in merriment. "I don’t blame you. This is a beautiful car."

"The car can be replaced."

"You must have a rich daddy."

"I used to. This--" she reached into the body of the car and pulled out the infant seat. "Has more value than anything in the world." Maneuvering the molded plastic chair between the man, the car and herself she turned the baby so he could be seen. "Believe me I would give up everything for the safety of Baroque. I'm even coming on this dumb-assed, degrading show just for him."

"Only goes to show you're already a good parent. I’ve seen some pretty ignorant people drive up here and age didn’t matter. Most of them just cared about themselves. Waltzing in here like they was walking up a red carpet. Ordering people around and being downright ignorant. By starting off putting him first in your life, you’re making very adult choices." He stretched out his hand for the car keys. "The assistant is coming to show you where to go. I'm going to give you this stub. Just give it to the valet attendant when you're ready to leave and your car will be returned."

Debney accepted the slip of paper and turned to face the assistant who was now standing near her right shoulder.

"I need to get something from the trunk first."

The valet walked to the back of the car. "What is it you need?"

"The stroller frame to attach the seat makes it so much easier to travel around."

"Ms. Armstrong?" The assistant tapped her on the shoulder to grab her attention. "Hi, I'm Dustin, Floyd Joy's assistant. Follow me and I'll show you where you will be waiting until it’s your turn." Without a second glance he began to walk away. He turned to look back over his shoulder and noticed Debney was walking slowly behind him and struggling with the combined cumbersome weight of the baby’s diaper bag and her over-sized purse. "Let me carry that for you. You should ask your momma how to pack this thing. I bet you have too much in it."

"I wouldn’t ask her if she were alive."

Debney pushed the stroller with a little more speed than necessary which caused her to out-distance the assistant and him to scurry to catch up.

Quickly scanning his notes, he obviously found something which caused him to blush in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I should have read my notes. Here, this is the waiting area. Feel free to get drinks, snack, or whatever." He opened the door for her to enter before quickly making his escape.

Pushing the baby in the ridiculously expensive travel system, Debney was glad she had allowed Nadine to talk her into the purchase. There was no way she would have been able to walk the long route to the green room, lugging the heavy carrier and all of the paraphernalia in her hands. The baby looked safe and happy and it gave her something to concentrate on other than the enormous butterflies fighting to get out of her stomach. She was so nervous and very irritated at the fact she had to be there.

Following the assistant's gestures she entered the small room. It consisted of a couch, stained carpet, an armchair and a table holding a variety of snacks and iced beverages. Nervous and definitely feeling parched, she immediately crossed the room and chose a cold drink.

"Okay, Ms. Armstrong sit here, and try to relax. You can have a snack and make sure you sit on the right side of the couch and try to face that light." He pointed to a red bulb stationed above a small TV screen.

"Every time it turns green it means they are scanning to your face. You won't have to say anything and nothing you say back here can be heard out there." He looked at his watch. "I need to go. F.J. will come and speak to you in a few minutes and just before it’s time for you to go on stage, our staff member, Amber, will come in so she can sit with the baby."

"That won't be necessary. I'll keep him with me."

"Sorry, it doesn't work like that."

Startled, Debney turned to the sound of the voice coming from the entrance to the room. It was Floyd Joy James. He stepped in, hands stretched in welcome and she moved away to stand closer to her baby. She had seen his show many times in the past few days and he was ruthless. The premise of his You're Not the Daddy'sshow was to tear down the esteem and reputation of the girls brought into the arena. The guys were brought on first, interviewed as the victims, praised for trying to be responsible and then the girls came on and shot themselves in the foot. Usually they were the satirical ghetto girls. Didn't matter what their ethnicity was because they all came on screen loud, vulgar and defensive. But who could blame them? The negative portrayal of them, the disrespect from what most of the girls believed to be the love of their lives, fueled on by the jeers of the audience would light the flame of any woman. And to make it worse, you could tell F.J. was getting a kick out of the drama because every time the camera panned on him, he would be smiling and sweating, looking like a pervert getting his rocks off at the expense of ignorant teenagers. Debney had already slotted him in her mind as a woman-hating, depraved idiot and she refused to shake his hand.

Holding the cool can tighter she studied his face. He didn't look like the cruel uncaring person she had seen daily on her TV screen. Here, his hair was soft and curly and his face was kind and encouraging. He smiled slightly and spoke softly.

"Don't be nervous, Debbie. Everything will be alright. We don't allow the children on stage because sometimes things get really emotional and we like to keep the babies out of harm’s way. You understand, right?" He put his hand on his chest across where his heart was supposed to be. "Do you mind if I take a peek?"

"No, go--" She paused to clear her throat. "Go ahead. Just try not to wake him."

F.J. pushed back the canopies covering the baby and smiled what seemed more of a genuine smile than she had ever seen on him. But of course, small infants and baby animals always made people smile.

"Beautiful and his name is Baroque? Did you name him after the time period in history or is it pronounced differently?" He asked with a smirk.

"Time period and please don't call me Debbie." She refused to elaborate.

F.J. was her enemy and as sure as day, she wasn't handing out any weapons to be used against her. She had seen the shocked faces of some of the girls from the show. They had obviously spilled their guts to him at what was obviously a staged, impromptu visit and once in front of the camera, he used their words to nail their coffins. Idiot was nowhere in her name. After a few more pleasantries and instructions, F.J. and his assistant left the room.

Debney sat down as soon as the door snapped shut. F.J. was good, but she hadn't watched his show just to be a voyeur in the lives of others, she had watched to make sure she wouldn't be dragged into any traps or fall into any molds. Her goal was to remain a lady and keep her cool. And she had dressed the part. She'd gone out, purchased a just-below-knee, flowing ivory dress because she didn’t want it to slide too high when she sat. She also wore a matching lace cardigan with pearl buttons. She'd taken time putting on her makeup and wore her hair loose with a hint of curls. She intended to be the opposite of everyone ever on the show.

Sitting in the green room on the designated spot, it was obvious whenever the camera was pointed in her direction because the light would flash a bright green just before the monitor would switch on. After her first startle of the process, she relaxed and sipped on her drink. Eventually, she had to mask her annoyance at the constant flash on/flash off when she realized it was a ploy to fuel irritation. After getting up and being able to walk the room in ten easy steps, she deduced everything was designed to cause anger.

The room was claustrophobic, the piped-in music was mind-numbing and if the baby had been crying, as she had seen some of the girls’ babies doing, she would go crazy. After five minutes, the piped-in music was replaced with the dialogue from the stage. It took everything in her to ignore the lies and bank down her anger.

If it weren't for the calm voice of Gianté which was periodically being allowed to break through the shouts of the others, she would have grabbed the stroller and gone the hell home. At just the moment when she made up her mind to do just that, the door opened and an Amazon of a woman walked in. She tiptoed to the stroller, peeked at the sleeping baby and whispered, "Hi, I'm Amber." She held out the badge swinging from a chain around her neck and bearing the station's emblem. "I'll sit with the baby. I promise I won't touch him. You follow him." She pointed at the assistant standing outside the door. "I promise the baby will be safe until your return."

"Okay, Amber. You're his first babysitter and I'm putting my trust in you, but before I leave I’ll just take a quick picture." She pulled her cell from the pocket of her dress. "Just a quick snap for his memory book and plus, if I come back and he’s gone, I’ll know who to come after. Just call me paranoid."

Debney followed the assistant through the maze of hallways to the small sitting area, stood to be connected to a wireless mic and then was left to await the cue for her to go on.

"Oh, and Debney, just a small reminder, don’t call him anything but ‘F.J.’ because he hates being called Floyd."

"I remember reading that in the paperwork and rules mailed to me."

"Great. So all’s set and you should be called in a couple of minutes. I'll go take care of a few things." He moved away to talk to a stage hand and she stood quietly to wait for her cue.

With eyes shut and frequent drags of deep breaths, Debney stood at the entrance to the stage and listened to the voices of her former male classmates. The outrageous berating lies they were spewing whipped the audience into a frenzy of hate and mockery towards her. She was so angry it took all within her to keep from storming up the steps and slapping them all.

******

"Okay, please welcome Debney Nichole Armstrong to the show."

F.J. stood, smoothed down the ridiculously fluorescent, blue and orange pinstriped jacket of his suit and turned to the camera with his trademarked snicker/joker look of a smile plastered on his face. He loved this part of the show, all hell usually broke loose. After being forced to sit in the green room watching flashing lights and listening to their lives and reputations being torn apart by what really amounted to worthless callous boys pretending to be men, the teenage girls always stormed on stage ready to bust heads. From what he had seen of her nervous posture in the dressing room and her outfit chosen with the sure intent to play the innocent victim, Debney Armstrong was about to be torn apart by the audience. He couldn’t wait to see her lose control. The excitement had him feeling giddy with anticipation.

The audience's boos, ridicules and catcalls were so loud, Debney almost didn't hear F.J. James announce her. Nervous and a little reluctant to move, she almost stumbled up the steps when the assistant prodded her with a jab to the back to go forward. Hurrying up the small ramp to the stage she faltered at the rush of angry, cruel energy in the studio. The smothering urge to turn and run caused bile to rise in her throat and she thought she would pass out. The wave of F.J.'s hand in front of her face was the distraction she needed to bring her back to reality.

As she walked down the remaining steps and in front of the panel on the stage, she reminded herself that if it weren't for the future of the baby, she swore she would just turn around and walk out of the room. She had very little urge to expose her life in front of a group of people who didn't know her from the proverbial Eve, let alone to those who had already made up their minds to condemn her as a free-flying, teenage whore.

Taking in a deep breath and releasing quickly, she focused her attention on the widely smiling host of the show. The man looked more like an idiot up close than she had thought. What the hell had he done to his hair during their time apart? The change in his persona was mimicked in the change in hairdo. The softness was gone.

"Hi, Debney." He pointed to the only vacant seat out of the five chairs beside his stationed on the stage.

"Here have a seat. Mind if I call you Debbie or should I call you by the name the kids call you in school? What was that?"

"DNA."

Three of the guys shouted. Standing and waving their hands in the air like idiots to incite the crowd. Gianté moved his chair just a bit to his left to distance himself from the others and lowered his gaze to his clasped hands before looking away from her.

Sliding slowly into the chair, Debney forced a smile to her face before answering F.J. James. Obviously the gloves were off. The smile on his face was brittle and dangerous. Nothing like the gushing, smiling man she'd met earlier in the green room. The glint in his eyes just before he transferred his gaze from her to the audience promised to draw blood.

Scenes of Love & Romance

2012-02-14T12:03:00.000-08:00

SCENES OF LOVE & ROMANCE

Join the character's from the novels by Ey Wade as they share their most memorable love scenes.

D.N.A.

[Dysfunctional family, trials, and a teen struggling for her physical and mental survival after the loss of her family.]

Scene: Chance meeting between Debney and Giante' on the stairs inside of King’s Multicultural High School

"Are you okay?"

Lifting her head and lowering it just as quickly when her gaze smacked straight into the concerned eyes of Giante’ De Vicari, Debney sighed and cursed under her breath irritably. Not bothering to answer she continued on her measured course down, the action successfully causing him to move with her.

Gianté walked down the stairs backward and directly in front of her, his left hand sliding unhurriedly down the rail with his the arm held stiffly, successfully giving the impression he would protect her from falling. His hands were huge, smooth and long-fingered. And from what she tried hard not to remember, extremely gentle.

She felt the heat rise in her face as quickly as the shame entered her thoughts. Above all the others, she remembered him. Every thought she ever had of him caused her to ridicule herself. If the imminent danger of falling wasn’t weighing heavily on her mind, she would have closed her eyes to avoid the compassion in his.

"You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to pretend you know me, Debney. Hell, we’ve spent every summer together for as long as I can remember. I’m just worried about you, Deb." His voice softened as he whispered the last part.

"I’m fine." Her voice came out in little more than a whisper. It had been days since anyone had spoken to her. Weeks, if you subtracted the cruel, sarcastic tones of voices. She quickened her steps, trying to brush past him as soon as her feet hit solid ground, but he, as usual, blocked her path.

"I haven’t seen you in a while. What with football practice and Spring Break, I haven’t had time to roam the halls, but I’ve missed you." He bent down a little to try and see her face through the curtain of her thick, dark hair.

His smile was encouraging, and the only thing she could see of his face without boldly throwing her head back. No way would she be doing that, she just didn’t feel brave enough to follow through. The last time she let her emotions rule her actions all hell had fallen into her life. She kept her head down and watched her hands gently rubbing her stomach as she encouraged herself to respond.

"That’s fine Gianté, it didn't matter. Everything has been the same." She sucked in a deep breath and tried to go around him, but was forestalled by his evasive movements. "Can you get out of the way? I have things I need to do before the bell rings."

"Why do you always run from me, Debney?"

Closing her eyes briefly, Debney sighed deeply. She just didn’t have time for an interrogation. She knew anything she did out of her ordinary habit of scurrying through the crowd would draw unwanted attention in her direction. Standing still in the middle of the hallway was something she avoided as much as possible. When it came to finding a victim for harassment, she was the biggest target and she preferred to be a moving one. Peering around his shoulder at the students in the hallway, she took a steadying breath. Maybe if she let him have a few moments of conversation he would hurry and move and she would be free to go on her way.

Pressured beyond belief, knowing she had a short space of time to get through the hallway to the restroom and yet not willing to give him access to such information, she feigned irritation, executed her best wiggling neck in the current, attitudinal, broken-hinged fashion and answered louder than necessary.

"Why do you always stand in my way, Giant?" her irritation at being confronted plainly showing.

"You know I don't like you calling me that, Deb."

Of course she knew. He had been teased with the nickname from the third grade onward. Ever since kindergarten, he’d been shoulders and head taller than the other boys his age, and after the summer of their fifth grade year, he’d outgrown those same boys by another nine inches.

Tossing her head back to clear the hair from her face, she commanded herself to look him boldly in the eyes and immediately disobeyed. At almost seven feet tall, Gianté looked like a god. A tall, muscular, well-built, beautiful Asian god and she loved him. A fact he seemed unaware of.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

THE PERFECT SOLUTION

[About the book: A three year old is mistakenly given to a stalker]

Scene: Austin Sanchez at his home.

After his harrowing interrogation in the police station, where he learned of the existence and kidnapping of his child for the first time, Austin Sanchez stands in the shower ruminating about his relationship with Catrine Teddi.

Standing rigid under the water and hoping that the soothing drops would calm him, he closed his eyes and turned his face to the stinging hot spray. As the water ran down his cheeks he let himself remember the last night they had spent together.

"Tin," his mother sat on the sofa looking up at him in barely disguised amusement. She patted the palm of her hand on the cushion next to her

"What are you talking about, Mom? Didn't you hear what I said? This woman believed that she owned me. Every time I turned around, she was there."

"You mean she stalked you," his mother stated, tongue-in-cheek, almost laughing when he threw his hands in the air.

"Loved? Wanted?"

"No, trapped." he sighed in disgust. "Mom you think this is funny but it isn't. No matter what I did she never trusted me. She was always thinking that I am messing around with someone else."

"Was she seeing anyone else?"

"No. As a matter of fact I'm the only one she ever...why am I having this conversation with you? I'm going to Dallas' house. He and Houston are watching the game on television."

"It doesn't matter. I won't be seeing her again."

Austin looked at his mother dubiously.

"Mom, don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

"If you answer a few of the questions I would be able to give you an answer.”

"That's okay Mom. Let it pass. I'll be back." He walked backwards to the door.

He opened the screen and stepped onto the porch. "Yes, Ma’me I will." He turned and almost ran to his car, laughing to himself as he got behind the wheel.

Catrine Teddi

Scene: In Catrine’s home after returning from confrontation with the director of the daycare center.

Turning, and retracing her steps to the living room, Catrine paused in the doorway and immediately felt discomfited at the sight of Austin sitting in the chair and dragging his hands tiredly across his eyes before pressing his face in his hands. He looked just as exhausted as she felt. The way his shoulders were hunched over brought back memories of the times she would massage them for him until the fatigue slid away to be replaced by other emotions. Shaking her head clear of the reverie, she cleared her throat and walked into the room.

"I'm going to go and lie down for a while. My head hurts," she said, not expecting or even caring whether he replied.

Taking slow steps to the liquor cart and grabbing a small bottle of water from one of its three shelves, she shook two aspirin from their container on the desk and tossed them into her mouth, drinking from the bottle of water as she walked to her room.

Stopping in the doorway of her room, she flicked off the forgotten light, dropped the empty water bottle to the floor, slipped out of her shoes and padded across the thick peach colored carpet to the bed. There was such a deep hole of sadness in her heart that it ached. Feeling like she could just lie down and die, Catrine collapsed onto the thick king sized comforter that covered the bed. She wiggled to its middle and pulled the smallest pillow into her arms.

It was Brhin's favorite. With her face pressed into its softness, her heart overflowed when Brhin's powdery baby smell wafted into her nostrils. Unable to hold back the tears, she sobbed in abandon. The thought of forever being alone flitted through her brain and she felt like dying.

"Oh, my God, oh my God," she repeated over and over. "How will I live without him?"

The tears ran unchecked down her cheeks and the misery she was feeling drowned out all sounds of Austin entering the room. Her back was to the door and she lay trembling in a fetal position. He stood on the side of the bed and watched her as she cried. Unsure of what action to take, he removed his shoes and lay on the bed beside her.

Pulling her into his arms he held her close and rocked her trembling form in comfort. Holding her in his arms felt so natural. She had always fit just right in his arms and he missed her. He turned her to face him and let her cry into his chest.

"Shhh, you'll make yourself sick," he murmured softly.

"I'm already sick," she barely whispered the words.

“You know what I mean." He pulled her closer and tightened his hold on her trembling body.

"How can I know? I don't know anything anymore." She whispered into the now damp material covering his chest. "I don't know which is worse. Losing the father or losing the son.”

Catrine put her arm around his neck and pulled herself further up on his body. Searching for strength in his arms, she pressed her face into his neck. She breathed in deeply in an effort to stop her tears. And for the second that her nostrils were cleared, Brhin's little baby odor was replaced with Austin's cologne and the masculine scent of his body.

A deep shudder of appreciation and recognition shook her body. She pressed the length of her own body closer to his and remembered how it used to be when they were together. She had missed him. She missed the way the smooth skin of his chest felt under her fingertips.

Putting her hands under the hem of his sweater she ran her hands around and across his stomach and up to his chest. Stopping to lay the palm of her hand flat on his chest, she trembled at the way the rate of his heart increased.

She remembered how he had loved it when she drew small circles between his breastbones. Slowly, knowing that it would be his undoing, she slid her index finger against the small indention in his flesh and intentionally drew soft circles around the tiny goose bumps that sprang up.

His hands trembled as they lifted her sweater and quickly unclasped the front opening of her bra. She gasped when his fingers closed around the nipple of her breast and he captured her mouth with his. For endless moments they forgot everything and became engrossed in each other. Like a slow moving fog, reality slipped in and they remembered. Shifting away from each other, they stood and adjusted their clothing, neither looking at the other.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." She slung her hand in the general direction of the bed in disgust and walked to the door. Never looking up, she put on her shoes. "I'm going into the living room."

She was pacing the room and smoothing down her hair when Austin entered and stopped when he started talking.

"Don't say anything, Austin." She held up her hand. "It's just something between us. Not a thing that can be fixed." She shrugged her shoulders in dismissal. "But nothing has changed. I still want the same things I have always wanted in life and more. I’ve made promises to God, to myself that I cannot go back on. I won’t let myself get into the same situation I was in before. I'm sure that nothing has changed with you. I see no ring on your finger. You're probably still running around and breaking hearts. I just can't deal with the physical and the personal emotions right now. I have Brhin to think about."

"I know that and I didn't come here to have a scene in the bedroom. I went in there to offer you comfort and, you know how it is between us.” He cleared his throat. “Let's change the subject.

♥♥♥♥♥♥

THE WOMEN OF THE HILL[Five women share a relationship with the same man}

Scene: In the home of Phyliss (our narrator) and her initiation into life with Sam

“Who is Sam?”

“Girlfriend…”

“I thought you all had a ‘man’.”

They all laughed.

“Of course we do. The thing is; can we depend on them?” Tone’ya questioned with a smirk.

“No.”

All of the women shouted in unison and laughed even louder. They shared high-fives and fell all over themselves in merriment.

Tone’ya did the snap and arch thing again and everybody in the room cheered while laughingly bemoaning the faults of their men.

“Well, I can.” Skinny Rayne Moore, the youngest woman in the group stood next to the television and put her hands on her hips in imitation of Tone’ya.

We continued to laugh.

“You laugh, but I know my man takes care of me.”

“Who are you talkin’ about girl?”Jenny Needs questioned. “I know you not talkin’ about that fat, sorry ass, cradle-robbin’ Shamel.”

She raised her arms in the air and danced around as if she had gotten the Holy Spirit. Amen sister and you go girl were repeated over and over as we laughed.

“So all of you get something from Sam, huh?” I asked after the laughter stopped. “Did you all meet him at the same time?”

“No.” They all answered together.

Letting a loud burst of laughter erupt into the room as she finished speaking, Frankie fell backwards on the couch laughing uncontrollably. Her shoulder bumped Jenny who fell on the floor chuckling and snorting. Rayne and Tone’ya stared at me opened mouth before they too started laughing. Rayne, jumped around in small circles in her delight and Tone’ya, in her enjoyment practically skipped around the room. It was a little while before the loud laughter quieted down to giggles, suppressed snickers and one of them could finally answer.

The raucous laughter started in the room again. The merriment was contagious and this time I had to join them. Ignorant to what they found so funny, but happy to shed some of my misery.

“Seriously now,” Frankie straightened herself before continuing. “Girl, are you crazy. No one sleeps with Sam.”

♥♥♥♥♥♥

THE FISHING TRIP [ A trial by water, execution and deliverance of retribution. Durham killed his abuser at the age of ten. As an adult and
tired of pedophiles having free reign on innocent children, he decides to take the law into his own hands]

Scene: Penny and Joshua’s home after the explosion in the woods.

Penny heard the ting of glass breaking the same time Graham did. He raised his head and she reached for the gun hidden by the foot post under the bed. She was sitting crossed legged on the floor at the foot of Jamie’s bed, a habit she had gotten into whenever Joshua was out late, scanning through Bertrand’s notes. Closing her computer she put it under the pillow of Graham’s bed.

Signaling for Graham to be quiet and stay put, she squatted low and tiptoed out of the room. There was no way it could have been Josh entering the house, no reason for glass to break.

Down the stairs and at the edge of the couch, she stopped and squatted lower with her position hidden by the large ottoman. She was more angry than nervous and promised herself she would hurt anyone who dared to come into her house. Whoever this person was in her house they were about to die trying to get out. As the figure in black drew near to where she was hiding she quietly waited for his feet to appear to make her move. As soon as both feet were in sight she punched him as hard as she could in the groove between the back of his knee and calf, causing the pain filled body to fall face forward. Still in her lowered position, she pressed the gun to his temple.

“Move and I kill you.” She threatened between clenched teeth. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

“Honey, I live here.”

Even through the moans of pain, Penny heard the humor in Joshua’s voice.

“Damn it, Josh.” Penny stood and put the gun in her pocket. She reached down to help him up, but he refused to grab her hand, preferring to rub the pain in his leg. “What the hell was the glass breaking about?”

“I accidently knocked the cookie jar off the cabinet.”

“Accidently?” She pushed the heel of her hand hard into his shoulder and he lost his balance and fell back on the floor “I’m not buying that, you broke it on purpose. Be honest, admit it.” She smiled down into his face. “You know how you hated the thing. Couldn’t wait for the opportunity to get rid of it huh?”

“Well, big green frogs with warts have no business holding cookies in their bellies. Gross.” He laughed and changed the subject. “Anyway, I thought you were going to be waiting up for me. If I’d known this was how it was going to be, I would have put on armor.”

“That was also nearly two hours ago. Where were you?”

Josh reached for her hand and pulled her down to his side.

“I did come home earlier, but I saw someone had tried to break in the garage.” He nibbled her ear lobe and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I can only assume they were trying to get in the house. Good thing your car was in there are it would have been vandalized.” He paused to nuzzle the side of her neck. “I went down to the station to get some extra patrol around here. The feel in the station has changed. The guys are looking kinda nervous.”

“I bet they are. Probably all wondering if their names are on one of Bertrand’s lists. Bethany called earlier; she thinks someone followed her home.” She turned to face Josh and kissed him full on the lips. “Come on, let me help you upstairs.”

Penny stood and reached for Josh’s hand again and this time he complied. Limping slightly he used the stair rail as his aid.

“Shit, maybe you should go and protect her from whoever thinks they are brave enough to fight you off. I think you broke my leg. Where the hell did you learn such a move?”

“I’m sorry. From the self defense classes I took. Being a CPS worker can be dangerous.”

“Being your husband can be dangerous.”

“I’m really sorry, Josh. We can warm up your water in the tub. The heat will do you a lot of good.”

“Only if you get in with me.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.”

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When One Door Closes

2012-02-12T09:59:00.000-08:00

WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES

Heartstrings, soul-ties and wishful thinking. Four shorts and a long tale of fortitude through difficult relationships, tugged heartstrings, soul-ties and wishful thinking.

Lesson Between the Lines- A woman ruminates on the lessons learned from an ex lover.

The Battle is Not Between Us-A woman confronts whom she thinks is the person having an affair with her husband.

No Regrets- A rejected wife and mother of eight finally takes a stand and puts an end to the mistreatment she receives from an ex-husband.

The Cooking Class- Franklin Henderson finds his true love behind the recipes in a cooking class.

Betrayal- A young mother, thrown out of her home by her husband and her child taken away finds out love can heal a broken hear.

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Excerpt:

The Battle is Not Between Us

A woman is accosted in her home by the wife of a co-worker.

Turning the burner off under the pot of rice and wiping the flour from her hands onto the front of her jeans, Quentin Alexander went to answer the knock on the apartment’s door.

The simultaneous opening of the door and the power of the unanticipated punch in the face knocked her flat to the floor. Without a pause a body landed on her stomach and she was immediately struggling and blocking blows to her face. Adrenaline rushed through her veins like electricity through wires. Her heart felt ready to burst from fear and confusion.

Unable to return any of the blows that made contact with her body Quentin concentrated on blocking the blows to her face by holding her arms in a crossed position. Afraid the stranger beating her would kill her, she wrapped her legs around the lower torso of the person above, pushed her crossed arms into the chest of the assailant and at the same time rolled her body until she was on the top of what she now knew to be a woman. The quick roll of the self-defense move had her as superior and she looked into the stunned gaze of her attacker.

Breathing heavily, Quentin sat on the woman’s legs and held her straining arms stretched above her head and pinned to the floor.

“Be still because if you hit me again I will kill you. Who the hell are you?” she questioned.

“I’m Josiah’s wife.”

“What?”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t know.”

“He’s not married. I asked him.”

The woman bucked her body to try and knock Quentin off.

“You are a liar.” She bucked again. “Get the hell off of me.”

“Hey, you’re a damned maniac. Bustin’ in my house and attacking me. I don’t know what you’ll do next. For all I know you could have a gun. I should call the police.” Quentin bounced on the woman’s legs. “Be still.”

Quentin, taking advantage of the power of her position to lift the woman’s head and chest for enough off the floor that the impact of the thrush downward would jar when her head hit the floor, Quentin slammed it down to her second command of be still.

“Hell,” the woman gritted through her teeth. “You’re the one that has been screwing with my husband.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. Let’s get a couple of facts straight. I’ve only known him three weeks. No sleeping around here.”

Using her hands she pressed her weight into the woman’s chest and stomach to aid her in crossing over and standing, Quentin climbed across the woman, stood. Grabbing the loose ends of her below shoulder length hair in one hand she stooped to retrieve the rubber band torn from the strands in the struggle and started to return it to the ponytail style she had been wearing. Her hands were shaking too much and she tossed the band on the island countertop in the kitchen.

Glaring at the heavily breathing woman still lying on the floor Quentin took two cokes from the refrigerator and walked back into the living room. What she wanted to do was bash the can in Josiah’s wife’s face, instead she silently handed the woman one before taking a seat on the couch.

From the corner of her eye Quentin watched as the woman opened the can, took a sip and rubbed her empty hand across her face with shaky movements. Taking a big gulp from her own can, Quentin leaned her head back while keeping her glance on the woman from the corner of her eye.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Shanel.”

“I’ll tell you this much, Shanel,” she sat up and pointed her finger at Josiah’s wife. “Before you think about bustin’ into some other woman’s home you’d better lose a little weight, take some self-defense classes and then change your mind and kick Josiah’s sorry ass. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you’re fat.” she raised her hands in a defensive mode. “I’m just sayin’ you’re breathing all hard like you’re gonna have a heart attack and If you hadn’t caught me by surprise I could have hurt you.” She looked at the strands of her hair entangled in the rubber band. “And why the hell did you come to fight me? Do you see how much of my hair you pulled out?” She tossed the band towards the woman and it hit her in the face. “This shit right here,” Quentin lifted a hand full of hair to show and then let it fall back down. “Is real and your pulling it hurt like hell.” Quentin got up quickly, rushed across the room and examined her face in the mirror. “Oh my God, you better be glad I don’t have any photo shoots for the next two weeks or I would press charges on you.” She looked at the woman searchingly. “You must not have any children.”

“We have two, a two year old girl and a three month old boy.” She answered after taking another sip from her can.

“Oh, that explains the mushy body. Okay, sorry that was low of me.” Quentin raised her hands in the air and apologized at the look the woman gave her. “Well, I can tell you definitely don’t care about your children. You could have been killed. You don’t know me. You don’t know what kind of weapon I have in this house. I feel like coming over there and slapping some sense into you. I can’t get over you bustin’ in my house and hitting me in the face.”

“I can’t get over you screwing with my husband.”

“Whoa, wait a minute. I’m not messing with your damn husband. I met him three weeks ago and went out with him once. He’s not my type. He said he was not tied to anyone, not married and didn’t have any children. This battle you wanna have is not between you and me it belongs between you and Josiah. Get off the floor and sit on the chair over there.”

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Love & The Women of the Hill | Valentine's Day

2012-02-09T18:23:00.000-08:00

The Voice: Continuing with today's theme of love I've invited the women from The Women of The Hill or better known as residents of 'the hill'. These five friends all share a relationship with the same man. Love comes in all forms. Today Phyliss and three of the ladies are here to share her story with us. Welcome Ladies. I hope you are comfortable with all of the chairs in here.

The three women concur in various degrees as they fidget in the chair.

"Since we have never interviewed any of the ladies from the hill , I'll give a short introduction. Through the writings of her memoirs, Phyllis Price employs flashbacks and subtle weaving of conversations with her friends to explain the presence of Sam as the heavy observance of a jealous lover. Tone'ya Knowes is a divorced mother of two daughters and attending college in the hope of starting a nursing career is the group’s know-it-all. Rayne Moore, the youngest member of the group, is mother of a son and is living with an older man. Frankie Duz, home schools her children baby sits on the side and Jenny Needs is a parent of four children and a teacher in the public schools. At four o’clock in the evening on a daily basis the women get together at Phyllis’ house to watch Oprah, eat snacks and discuss the events of their day. They call it their ‘Stress Bashin’ Session’. The ladies are going to share one of the times the consoled Jenny through an impending and potentially emotionally damaging holiday visit with her family.

Phyliss startes the conversation.

"We've all decided I will do the talking. It all started with Tone'ya telling of a horrible visit with Sam. I remember as if it were yesterday. Tone'ya walked into the room and sat dejectedly in a chair and said....

"Well hell, I'm doing my best and what do I get - Damned brushed off. I found me a job, don't cheer, yet.” She waved our adulation down. "You haven't heard everything. The job would have fit in with just what I need. Do you think Sam gives a damn?" She gave me an apologetic wink because she kew I didn't like cursing in my house. “Nooo, he just put me completely off and took everything away. What the hell am I supposed to do? How am I going to take care of the girls? The damned job is part time. I'll have to pay everyday for transportation to and from school and work. I'll barely be making enough money to bring any home. Hell, the only good thing I have going for me so far is my housing. That's if they don't take that away. I really thought that going to school was a good thing. That shrewd little deceptive bastard knows how to keep a woman tied to him, but he is a liar and I'll be damned if I go crawling back.” Tone'ya leaned back in her seat with a defeated look plastered on her face and sighed deeply.

I'd looked around at my friends. Defeat was definitely smothering the joy out of the room. Each one of them sitting and contemplating their own situations. As unobtrusive as possible, Jenny stood and cleared her throat.

"I'm gonna go in the back and check on the kids.” She announced to no one in particular and walked quickly out of the room.

Jenny was the less vocal member of our group. A substitute teacher in the public schools and we respected her immensely. Maybe it was because she was the oldest of us all. Forty years old. Not that her age would make a difference, because it was hard to tell just how old she was. She was a beautiful forty-year-old woman. I felt that she was a little too thin. She looked really young and dressed very nice. Her dark skin was extremely pretty. Smooth, unmarked and unwrinkled and her hair was always neat. Jenny rarely complained of her financial problems and never mentioned the fact, her husband of twelve years, had recently left her for her younger cousin. The sad droop of her shoulders as she walked out of the room made me leave my place on the floor and follow her into the hallway.

Half way down the hall, I could hear the soft sounds of her smothered crying coming through the closed bathroom door. Putting my ear to the wood, I tapped lightly.

"Jenny? Why don't you let me in so we can talk? Things always seem better when you let it out.”

"I'll be all right in a minute.” Sounds of Jenny trying to get control of herself could be clearly heard. "Just give me a couple of minutes to get myself together. I'm a little overwhelmed, that's all. It seems that things are falling apart all around me. I just don't feel like talking about anything right now.”

"Jenny.” I turned at the sound of Tone'ya's voice coming from behind me and saw that all of the other women had gathered at the door. God, I loved these women. No matter what, they always rallied around.

"Jenny," Tone'ya repeated. “You come on out of that bathroom. If you stay in there and try to smother down your feelings they will just fester and the next thing ya know, we'll be visiting you at the hospital because you have either stroked out or gone crazy. Things can't be that bad. Just think of all you've gone through in the past year. You've handled those things. You can handle this. We'll be right behind you.”

“That's right.”Frankie tapped on the door. “If you want, we'll go to that fool's house and burn it down for you.”

"Yeah," agreed Rayne. “We'll even cut up his tires.”

"I'd rather go to my cousin's house and kill her.”Jenny's muffled voice came through the door.

We all laughed.

"Not a problem.” said Frankie.

"Sounds like a plan to me.” Tone'ya agreed.

"Come on, girl.” I twisted the doorknob. “Come on out. The kids are starting to gather in the hallway. Lookin' at us like we're crazy and wondering what we are all doing out here.”

Tone'ya ushered the children back to the den and refilled their snacks and bottles while we continued to coax Jenny from herself imposed prison. By the time Tone'ya returned, we had accomplished our feat and returned to the living room. Oprah was on, and since it wasn't a show we were particularly interested in, we were staring at the muted screen. Everyone involved in her own thoughts.

Sitting in her favorite spot, Tone'ya swung her shoe and looked from one of us to the other.

"Well?" She asked after a few minutes. “What the hell is the problem? Jenny? Anyone?"

"It's nothing, really. I was just being silly. I guess all of the emotion that was flowing in this room just got to me.”

"Yeah, right" Tone'ya snickered. “You're not the type to run out crying. In the famous words that I heard uttered earlier, fess up, girl.”

"You all will probably think that I am just being stupid.”

"Why in the world would we think something like that?" Rayne asked.

I stretched my legs under the coffee table that sat in front of the couch.”I think you are one of the smartest people in this room. Who else can take care of four little children, two of them still babies and then hold down a job?"

"And to top all of that, you are always in such shining spirits. It's just not like you to be so down. Just tell us the problem and maybe we can help out. I'll even baby sit for you so you can take a night out, if a break is what you need.”

"Sure, I could use a break, but that's not the problem. Easter is coming up this weekend, you know.”

"And?" We questioned in unison.

“Well, I can't stand the idea of spending another holiday with my family.”She lowered her head as if stating the fact made her the worst person in the world.

"Is that all?"

"I don't want to see my mom, either.”Rayne stated emphatically.”All I ever hear is something sarcastic or derogatory about Shamel. The only thing my parents want to know is the date Shamel is going to make an honest woman of me. Or the day he moves out. They keep on telling me I can do better and that Shamey needs a real father. Ugh, now I feel like crying.”Rayne gave a very dramatic presentation of crying and we all laughed.

"I wish it was that easy.” Jenny continued. "When I say family, I mean my entire family. That includes my cousin the little skank. She and my husband were at my Granny's house for Christmas. My own flesh and blood. How in hell they were invited I don't even know. It doesn't seem fair. I'm the one that has been screwed and yet I get treated like the outcast. We're not even divorced, for God's sake. My husband sat in my Granny's house like he and my slutty cousin were doing nothing wrong. They blatantly walked around acting all lovey-dovey. Hugging and kissing all over each other like no one else was in the house. I was miserable, my girls were confused and the entire family was divided. It was the sorriest thing I have ever had to live through. The family didn't know how to react. I'm not going to go through that again. I couldn't believe they had the balls to show up there. Especially not him, not after all he had been telling me.”

"Girl, you know he was probably just trying to get him some draws. You know how men are.” Rayne smirked knowingly.

Jenny: "I should have known, but I guess I just wanted to believe what he was telling me. I had loved him for such a long time. You know how hard it is to let them go. Women were just made to be fools. That bastard had spent the previous week trying to talk me into taking him back. He was always telling me how much he loved and missed being with the children and me. Telling me that we have to be together before the New Year arrived and then he goes and shows up at my Granny's house with my cousin. I started to grab Granny's biggest knife and cut them up like a Christmas ham and feed them to the damned dogs. In the end, I left with my tail between my legs. Took my children's gifts and damn near had to fight him to get out of the house. Men are ignorant. He thought we could all play like one, big happy family and pretend like nothing was wrong. He thought he could screw my cousin one minute and then run to me the next. Freakin' bastard, I still can't believe that my Granny even allowed them in her house. Then I had to remember that the little slut is Granny's favorite and could do no wrong. My granny even took the little cow's side. She said, 'Baby, maybe the two of you weren't right for each other. I think he has the woman that's best suited for him. You just need to just face facts and get on with your life.' Granny even had the nerve to stand over me and pat me on the head like I was a cowering dog when she saw me crying in a corner of the kitchen. That made me so angry. That old lady just doesn't know how lucky she is that I have control over myself. I started to beat that old woman with her own cane.”

We all looked at each other with astonishment plastered on our faces. Frankie burst into a roar of loud laughter, which caused a domino effect and had us all falling over ourselves in merriment.

"Whew, remind me not to ever get you angry.”I gave an expressive shudder.

"Girl, I didn't know you had it in you. You had me sitting here picturing nasty ham on the table and old ladies walking around with cane lumps on their heads.”

"You're so stupid.”Jenny threw a small pillow from the couch at me.”It's not really funny. This is a tragedy."

"Well, I have a plan that will eliminate the stress from all of us, at least for one night..."

The Voice: Well let's talk about that some other day, we've run out of time. Thank you folks for stopping by. Come again anytime.

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Love and the Perfect Solution|Valentine's Day

2012-02-09T18:19:00.000-08:00

In honor of Valentine's day character's from The Perfect Solution are sharing their views on love.
Sometimes you can share the same story, and have different views.... Austin & Catrine are asked 'why did your relationship end?"

AUSTIN-- Sits in the chair, elbows resting on his knees.

Well this is what I remember....

On that night, Catrine called me and invited him over for what she called a 'last get together'. She said she wanted to end the relationship on good terms and so I had gone. The candlelight meal had been delicious as was our 'get together'. I had been lying next to her with my eyes closed, enjoying the fragrance of her perfume, wishing we didn't really have to break-up, and basking in her closeness and the way she was slowly caressing my chest when her words abruptly scattered the mist of self-satisfaction clouding my brain. I remember as if it were yesterday.

"Austin, don't you think it would be nice if we could be like this every night?" she asked softly.

"Oh, Damn!"

"I remember jumping from the bed, grabbing my clothes from the floor and virtually running from the room. Standing in front of the sofa in the living room, I made two futile attempts at pulling on my pants before succeeding. I remember how Catrine looked when she entered into the living room from the bedroom. She had been securing the belt on her robe and as she tossed back her beautiful shoulder length hair with one hand, her small breast had swelled against the silk of the robe, practically begging for my touch. Giving in to the enticement, I stepped towards her and stopped short at the fury bursting from her lips.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Austin?"

"She'd put her hand on her hips and removed them just as quickly when the lapel of the robe gaped open to expose her nakedness. Closing the gap, she pulled the belt tighter and I smiled at her belated sense of modesty and pulled on my shirt before answering."

"I'm not the one with a problem."

"Well, it sure as hell isn't me."

Austin pauses in his narrative to drag his hand through his hair. "Her voice rose as did the anger in her face and I knew the argument was about to start and I wasn't disappointed."

"I'm not the one that jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. You act like I'm trying to take away your freedom. Like you think I'm going to chain you to a wall or something!"

"Or 'something' is right. You want to tie me to you."

Austin looks towards the interviewer."All I could do was pace the living room angrily and when I got near the sofa, I picked up a small pillow and threw it against the furthest wall in frustration and question her motives."

"What in God's name do you want from me?" I asked her. "You know I work constantly."

"Damn it!"

"Catrine had picked up the pillow and took her time replacing it on the sofa. I watched her as she bent and plumped up the pillow. The delightful shape of her bottom embossed on the silk of the gown made my mind wonder in other directions. It was a wasted trip."

Austin pauses and smiles before continuing .

"I remember how Catrine had turned and saw the look on my face and had stiffened, and looked me over with a slight sneer from feet to head. She stood in front of me as if she believed she could knock me down to her size and then had the nerve to blatantly prod me in my chest in her anger before continuing the argument. She had a lot to say or should I say we had a lot to say...."

"Austin I want you to be faithful to me and if you can't be faithful at least be honest."

"I am honest with you. Is it my fault you think so much of me that you believe every woman that sees me, wants me?"

Catrine scoffed in amusement."You are so full of yourself, Austin. Do you honestly think you mean so much to me that I have a need to tie you to my side?"

"Hell, yes. Girl you know you love me and you'll love me forever."

"I can get over it."

"Yeah right I believe that as much as I believe there’s a man in the moon. I don't know how I can be more honest. I tell you my job schedule. You know where I am all of the time. My life is not my own. When would I have time to run around on you? When I am not at work, I am with you. It's up to you whether or not you believe me. I think the best solution for us is to be apart."

"Austin, I can love you for the rest of my life, but that doesn't mean I have to be a fool for you. You can't give me a clear reason why you won't live here with me and that keeps me from believing you. We don't even have to live here. If you worry because the townhouse is mine, I could move in with you even though this place is larger. Or we can buy something else. We don't have to live here."

Austin sighs deeply and leans towards the interviewer. "Listen, all I can say is this, the argument became much more heated with each one of us saying hurtful things until I stormed out of the apartment and didn't her from her again for four years. The day I was hauled into the police station as a suspect in the kidnapping of a child I never knew I had. "

CATRINE-- Catrine walks into interview room and sits in the chair.

"Okay since this is Valentine's day I'm going to let myself go to a dark place in my life. Just give me a moment."

Leaning her head on the backrest of the chair, she took deep breaths and concentrated on remembering the last day that she and Austin had spent together. She had purposely not let herself dwell on thoughts of Austin because she knew that deep inside she still cared very much for him. She and Austin had deliberately said some of the cruelest things to one another.

Before the breakup, the arguments had been trivial, but after a very heated confrontation, she and Austin had decided to call it quits. She could remember the conversation as if it were being reenacted in front of her. Even after all most four years the remembered pain felt as if it were happening at that very moment. Taking a deep breath and keeping her eyes shut she began her story.

"Okay, as I remember Austin had been standing in front of the very sofa where she was now sitting, opening and closing his hands and breathing so hard I thought he would lose control of himself and hit me. He had frightened me with the stillness of his body and the glaring looks he kept throwing at me. I had never seen him that furious, but then again, I was experiencing something I had never felt myself. The huge uncontrollable rage that had been engulfing me made me want to explode. And so I sat on the sofa tapping my feet in irritation and bemoaning the way the night was ending.

In my imagination it should have been a magical affair. A definite liberation from the tensions and arguments we had been having throughout the previous two months. We had eaten a lovely dinner, cuddled, talked, made love and all of a sudden we were slipping into the same old mode. Pacing the room and having another one of our stupid arguments.

Catrine was barely able to keep myself from running up to Austin and punching the hell out of his face as I sat and watched him angrily pace the room. His six foot-three inch stride was continually making short work of the width of the entire room. He looked like an animal trapped in a small cage. Stopping in front of the sofa, he bent and yanked a small pillow from its resting place on the sofa and thrown it angrily towards the wall before shouting at me.

"What in God's name do you want from me, Catrine?" He turned to face her.

"I remember stooping, to retrieve the pillow and replacing it on the sofa before getting all in his face or as near face to face with him as my foot shorter frame would allow and I poked his chest hard with my index finger as I stressed every word.

"I want you to be faithful to me and if not faithful, at least be honest."

"Honest about what? What else can I tell you? How honest can I be to a woman that is so paranoid that nothing I say makes a difference to her? You know how I work. I'

m a surgeon for Christ's sake." He shook his head in thought of the futility of the situation. "My life is not my own." He sighed irritably. "I do not have time to go running after some other woman. I tell you I have been seeing no one else and you choose not to believe me."

"Of course I don't believe you. How can I? You won’t commit yourself to me, or this relationship. We’ve been seeing each other for almost a year and a half, I suggest that you move in here and you turn cold. What is the big deal anyway? This apartment is larger than yours and you act like you're comfortable while you are here. Maybe you just have a problem being here with me."

"That's not it at all."

"Well, make me understand, Austin. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. For the past two weeks you’ve found it extremely hard to be civil to me. You barely talk to me and you only touch me during sex. What's the problem? Do you think I want your money? I'm not asking for you to take care of me, I can take care of myself. I have a great paying job and can pay my own bills. I just thought that it would be perfect to go to sleep with my arms around you and then wake up with you next to me in the mornings. I had stupidly thought that you felt the same."

"That's bull and you know it."

Austin slammed his fist on the table, causing a flower vase to fall and spew its contents of water and dead leaves across the table and onto the floor. Its muddy substance staining the rose colored carpet.I was so pissed I gave him a shove in the chest and then had the nerves enough to order him to clean it like I thought I was his mom or something and he laughed at me.

"You do it. And if you know what's good for you, you would back your short little tail up."

"Am I supposed to be afraid of you?"

Catrine looks towards the interviewer who is jotting down notes. "I moved back a bit, hands on hips and measured his length with her eyes. He just ignored the anger in my face, stepped closer and tapped me on the forehead with the tip of his pointer finger. I wanted to hurt him but all he did was laughing when I angrily slapped at his hand and missed."

"Yes," he continued talking. "I don't know what makes you think you can run my life. You want total control of me. You want to know my every coming and going. You are worse than my mother. I can't live with that."

"You are one selfish bastard, Austin. You want me to save myself for only you while you go out and share yourself with the masses. So I’m just going to tell you this one time, from now on I’m out to please myself. I no longer want you in my life."

"You mean to tell me, you are going to stand there and break up a terrific relationship because I won't move in here with you?"

"Hell, yes and you know as well as I that it doesn't just have to deal with you moving in here."

"Right, I wouldn’t bet on it"

"Yeah, right I have the feeling that you only want me for sex."

"Wait a minute. Don't go there. I can get sex anywhere, any time. Don't think there is none better than you."

"You know I'm better than ice cream."

She looked at Austin with a beguiling smile and her hands on her hips. He laughed out loud, forgetting for a moment that they were in the middle of an argument. He shook his head as if to clear his mind.

"You forget that ice cream comes in a variety of flavors. Not that I want to try any." he raised his hands in defense. "I think you need help Catrine."

"Not to deal with you." I looked him up and down.

"To be able to deal with life, you're delusional. I know a couple of psychiatrists that may be able to help you. No, just listen," he held up his hand to silence me. "I am not about to get in another argument with you. If you want to give up something that could be the best thing you ever have in your life, it's your choice."

"It's you that's throwing me away. Why in God's name would I want to be with someone that just wants to fu…?"

"Don't say it." He grabbed her hands and held them within his own. "You now I hate that word especially when you use it in that context. It sounds like we are just animals taking a random plunge. You mean more to me than that. It means a lot to me that you thought me worthy to be your first lover, but I don't want to live with you."

"I yanked my her hands from his grip, and turned my back on him, wiped my tears and smoothed my hair before turning back to face him. I just knew whatever I said that this would be the end. Unable to hold his gaze I looked at my feet and pushed my hands into the pockets of my robe before taking another deep calming breath."

"You know Austin I love you to death. I would rather be with no one else but you," I stepped back as he stepped forward. "But I cannot go on the way we have been. We argue all of the time lately and I can't deal with it. The best thing we could probably do for each other would be to not see each other again."

"If that is the way you see it, then this will be your choice. Just remember that you are the one making this decision for us."

Catrine looked towards interviewer. "I lost it then and my rage just erupted."

"How can you say that? I am not making the decision to get rid of you. I want you and you have your own reasons for your decisions. They just don't happen to flow with mine. I will not sit here and continue to pretend that things can work between the two of us when I know in my heart that you don't care for me. So, take your damn little duffel bag and get the hell out of my house!"

"I picked up the small red bag that he always used when he stayed overnight and threw it towards him and he caught it in mid-air before crossing in front of me and walking to the door."

"All right, I will go with pleasure. I had already tired of your little cling-on attitude and had wanted to call it quits. Just remember, it is not me that's ruining what we had, it is you. You just have the hots for some other guy and can't be honest about it. I have always believed that you have the potential to be one terrific bitch and now I know that I am right."

"If I do, it's you who have taught me. I learned from the master slut."

"You just can't wait to drop me. Don't call me when things start to fall on your head."

"I will never call you for anything. This is the last time you will ever hear from me!"

Catrine stands and smooths her dress. "Listen, I can't do this anymore." She wipes a tear from her face. "Let's call this interview over." She leaves the room.

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