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EDC Creations, The Sankofa Literary Society and The Black Authors Network are proud to announce the launch of the 2014-2015 "Give the Gift of Knowledge Campaign," bringing readers and authors together to help improve literacy. You can join the campaign too, go here!

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Black Love on BAN Radio

Listen to the broadcast now.

We are celebrating Black love, showing 5 Tenets towards:
* Love for the Creator
* Love for Self
* Love for the Family
* Love for the Community
* Love for the Black Race

FEATURED AUTHORS AND SPEAKERS
* Michelle Monkou
* William Fredrick Cooper
* Shakir Rashaan
* Zuri Day
* Lutishia Lovely
* Naleighna Kai
* A. Yamina Collins
* EN Joy

If You Don't Know Me
by Mary B. Morrison

MOVE OVER REAL HOUSEWIVES…

If you can’t get enough of all things reality television get ready for the drama like only New York Times bestselling author MARY B. MORRISON can bring it! New York Times and #1 Essence best selling author Mary B. Morrison knows how to write stories that will have readers on the edge of their seats.

Her critically acclaimed debut series Soul Mates Dissipate explored the topic that puzzles most of us: how to find— and keep — your soul mate. The series did so well that Morrison received a multi-film development deal. Publishers Weekly noted Morrison’s sensual novels “pack in dozens of juicy episodes” in her “high drama page turners” and described her as “prolific.”

Her new series which introduced readers to sexy vixen Madison Taylor and a whole cast of juicy new characters has continued to keep readers panting with Elev8.com noting “Mary is at the top of the African-American fiction genre” and Library Journal praising the second installment and encouraging readers to “buy in anticipation of high demand.”

Mary returns in April with IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME; the third installment of the If I Can’t Have You series being published by Dafina Books in hardcover original.

Two women, a sizzling wager, and the fallout that would turn their lives upside down, that’s exactly what readers will find in Mary B. Morrison’s newest release. Sindy Singleton isn’t about to lose Chicago DuBois to Madison again. But getting him to open his heart once more won’t be enough to satisfy her. Enlisting the help of Chicago’s worst enemy is the fastest way she knows to expose Madison’s most brazen deception yet. But Madison has more than one devastating card to play.

If there’s one thing Madison has learned from her disastrous bet, it’s how to turn catastrophe into opportunity. Playing on Chicago’s fatherly instincts will maintain her access to the DuBois fortune—and keep her family’s empire successful. Using sweet Sindy’s niceness against her will knock her out of the running. And the cherry on top: Madison’s got the perfect scheme to finally take care of her ex-lover, her rivals, and the husband she’ll never let go.

EXCERPT: IF YOU DON’T KNOW ME

CHAPTER 1

Sindy

"When he walks in, you'll walk out."

"Are you sure?" Nyle asked me after the prison guard closed the door to our private glass-enclosed room.

We sat facing each other. The chill from the stainless steel chair made me sit on the edge of my seat. The rectangular-shaped metal table was cold enough to keep my favorite butter pecan ice cream from melting. Three feet of space separated us.

I stared into his crystal-blue eyes as I said, "Help me get Granville Washington back behind bars and you'll be discharged the same day he's booked. The remaining two-and-a-half of your three-year sentence will be dismissed. You'll be on a one-year probation with an officer that you'll meet face-to-face one time. After that you'll check in over the phone. A few people owe me favors. If you complete the assignment to my satisfaction, your early release is guaranteed."

Nyle sighed heavily. His neatly arched brows drew close together. His eyes darted to the left. He blinked. When he opened his eyes, they were intensely on me. Instantly, I became motionless.

"I've already done what you've asked of me."

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly my ass." Veins protruded from his neck. His voice escalated in anger. "The outcome isn't what either of us anticipated but I did my part. Now you want me to do you another favor? Fuck the money you paid me. I want out of here today."

That wasn't happening. When we left this room, I was going home; he was headed back to his cell. I did not influence him to commit a crime. That was his choice. Helping him get out was mine.

"What if what you want now isn't what you expect later? Then what? You walk away and leave me to do all of my time?"

Precisely. In my mind, I nodded, but didn't move my head. He had nothing to lose. I did. I needed him to calm down so he could focus on what was important to me.

I softened my tone. "Fair enough. Regardless of what happens this time, I'll keep my word." Not sure if I were lying, I extended my hand and shook his. I had to tell Nyle what he needed to hear.

Getting men to do whatever I wanted—with the exception of my father—that was my strength. Loving another woman's husband was my weakness.

Better for me to pursue the man I wanted than to allow my dad to arrange for my husband the way he'd done with Siara. I missed her. Skype was nice but I hadn't seen my sister in person in twelve years. Her being sold by our father wasn't my fault but she didn't feel the same. Occasionally, she still says, "You are my big sister. You were supposed to protect me." I think our father or her husband told her not to come back to America and not to let me visit her in Paris. I wasn't sure how or when but one day we would reunite.

Trust your gut instincts. That was how I lived. My word used to be a firm commitment. Since I was a little girl, when Sindy Singleton made a promise, I kept it. Truth or lie, right or wrong, my love for Roosevelt "Chicago" Dubois was gradually overruling my senses. Lately I'd been doing what was in my best interest. When things didn't go my way, I didn't hesitate to change my mind.

This morning I'd smoothed back my long straight cinnamon hair and coiled it into a bun that sat at the nape of my neck. My cream-colored pants, which I only wore when I visited the Federal Detention Center, were loosely fitted. A simple short-sleeved matching blouse draped my hips. Comfortable leather flats clung to my feet. No lipstick. No perfume. No jewelry. My purse was in the trunk of my Bentley that I'd parked in a downtown lot a block away. My keys were secured in one of the small lockers in the lobby. My Texas driver's license was left with the guard at the security entrance.

Sitting in a room reserved for attorney/client visits, I was the attorney. Nyle Carter was my protégé. I needed this inmate's help the same as he desperately desired mine.

"Let me get this straight. I have to find a way to bring Granville back to prison before you'll get me out of here?" he lamented.

Peering through the glass door, I scanned the visitors' room. There was a handful of folks who had come to see what I called "the mentally ill and prayed up." Prison made grown men ask the Lord, Buddha, Allah, Jehovah, or whatever higher power they believed in to set them free. Forgiveness wasn't practical for repeat offenders. I wished repentance wasn't an option for them either.

A lot of the criminals I represented were guilty but the majority of them had raised their right hand and sworn on the Bible that they were innocent. I was paid to defend, not to judge. Ultimately, that was God's job.

Nyle had pleaded the Fifth on his charges and still had to do time. He'd become known to those on the inside as G-double-A. Some youngster by the name of No Chainz had given Nyle the name saying it meant "Got All the Answers." I wished that were true for me. I wouldn't be sitting in this cold room trying to convince a man to entrap another man so that I could be with the man I loved.

"I said you were to make sure he never got out."

Nyle remained quiet.

On a scale from one to ten, Nyle was handsome above average. Put a suit on him the way he used to dress prior to getting locked up and no one would believe he was forty years old when he was arrested. Not that there was a better age to be charged but with his thick blond curly hair and smooth pale skin he could easily pass for thirty.

"I paid you twenty thousand to give Granville advice that would get him convicted with two consecutive life sentences."

He slid his hand from his forehead to the nape of his neck. No response.

Nyle could benefit from a daily dose of natural vitamin D. The inmates didn't get much sunlight. Everything was indoors, including the gym. The few windows they had were high above the basketball court. Nyle deserved to be here but didn't belong. There were some people you never envisioned behind bars. Others you knew it wasn't if they were going to do time. It was when and for how long?

"Why did the judge overturn the jury's decision?" I asked.

Getting myself this involved, I could risk being disbarred and losing Roosevelt if he thought I was part of the conspiracy to kill him. I was undoubtedly determined to have that man.

Secretly, I was attracted to Roosevelt well before we'd met. A schoolgirl crush, more like college, was what I had. We didn't go to the same university but I'd gone to his football games. Unlike some of the other players, Roosevelt never had a bunch of groupies tailing him. For me it was one of those situations where I liked him, but never thought we'd meet. After his engagement was announced on the news and he married Madison, I'd given up on my fantasy of being with him until his brother came to my office one day for business. Chaz suggested Numbiya and I stop by Eddie V's. Roosevelt was there. Instantly, we hit it off. Initially, I wasn't, then I was, then I wasn't saving my virginity for him but now that I knew him better, I'd decided Roosevelt—not the billionaire who had paid my father for my hand in marriage—was the one.

How long was Nyle going to hold out without answering me? I refused to say another word. If he was done, so was I.

My father was a self-made multimillionaire. If Charles Singleton owned all the gold in Fort Knox, it wouldn't be enough and it'd never make him happy. He was so driven by greed he didn't know how to enjoy life or value people. Money was his god.

I still didn't believe my mother accidentally fell down the stairs. Never saw her insurance policy but knowing my father he'd probably collected a hefty seven figures. My father told us he had our mama cremated. Her family begged for a memorial service. They had no legal rights. Jasmine Singleton had no funeral. Dysfunctional as we were, until the day Mama died and Siara was sold, we were a family. Shortly after Mama's ashes were scattered over the Gulf of Mexico, my daddy became richer. My gut told me there was no wake because there was no death. Perhaps that was my wishful belief.

The man that I wanted couldn't be bought. If I were more like my father, I'd pay Roosevelt's wife to leave him alone. If she'd refused, I'd hire a hit man.

Nyle had ten minutes. If I stood, I was leaving and not coming back.

I was thirty. Ready to walk down the aisle and eventually breastfeed Roosevelt's children. Unlike my father, I knew how to be happy. I think.

Tired of Madison Tyler-DuBois interfering with my getting her husband, I added her to Sindy's shit list. I was about to strip that bitch of her last name like she'd lost an all-or-nothing game of poker. It was time for her to find herself another man. The horrible things she'd done, she should've petitioned for their divorce.

Madison was responsible for her husband having been shot, then she'd taken him off the respirator hoping he'd die. God had a different plan. Her soon-to-be ex-husband had survived. And rather than her letting him love me, she'd prefer to keep him and smother his generous forgiving spirit. Her having his baby was the last lucky charm I was going to snatch from her.

Roosevelt had no idea what to do with Madison. Keep her? Let her go? Stay for the baby? Men generally embraced the "Do as I say" philosophy. The women, "Do as I do." Neither gave a damn about how the other felt as long as the other obeyed. Madison wasn't the conforming type. Neither was I. I was a true Southern belle born and wrapped in a Republican cloak of cutthroat confidence.

I was soft, only on the outside.

Three minutes.

When I saw on the news that Roosevelt "Chicago" DuBois had been shot three times, I had to find out who wanted him dead and why. Granville pulled the trigger but that imbecile could never mastermind an execution. Right now, I was getting involved with every aspect. That was why I was sitting in this freezing room instead of being outside in the sunny eighty-degree weather.

Nyle stared at me. "Welcome back," he said.

"Same to you." I'd drifted into my own world but where had he gone?

"Granville is so dumb he's actually smart. Tell me what I need to do to walk out of here. I'll make sure it's done."

Nyle's son was in my I'm Not Locked Up nonprofit program for kids with parents in jail. His son was an amazingly brilliant child. Landry was so impressive that six months ago I accompanied him on a visit here to the Federal Detention Center to meet his father.

I had to know what kind of man could have single-parented a brilliant child then end up behind bars. I'd learned that Nyle had an office downtown. He represented hundreds of clients for a decade. Problem was, he'd never passed the bar. His degree was real. His credentials weren't valid. How could people retain a lawyer without certifying if the attorney was legit?

I agreed. "Granville is the smartest dumbest person I've witnessed as well. Do you know how many inmates represent themselves and get off? Almost none. Hearing Granville question Chaz, watching him get Loretta arrested, seeing him present that sex tape of Madison, made me realize we cannot underestimate this guy. When he degraded Roosevelt on the stand. Made a mockery of my man. That was it. We've got to get him to state and I'm not talking about a high school championship. Prison is where Granville belongs."

"What do I need to do this time?" Nyle asked.

"Tell the guard to inform the warden that Granville Washington is attempting to kill Roosevelt again. Then—"

Shaking his head, Nyle interrupted. "How do you know this?"

"Trust me. I do. All I need you to say is Granville told you this in confidence before his release. Then you must insist that they issue a search warrant for all of his property. His apartment, his car, his mama's house, and her grave."

Leaning back, Nyle said, "Her what?"

I was the type of woman who believed in staying three steps ahead of all men. Perhaps Granville wouldn't do such a thing but the gun hadn't been found after the shooting. He either knew where it was or now that he was out of jail he had it in his possession. The guy had proven he wasn't dumb. Playpens, cemeteries, cereal boxes, diaper bags were just a few of the countless places I'd discovered where criminals had hidden weapons.

"You heard me right. Her grave. Her services are tomorrow. If Granville has that gun, he's going to get rid of it. Tell them to dig up Sarah Lee Washington, search the soil, and her coffin. Roosevelt's life is dependent on you." I'd make a few calls later today and have someone secretly videotape Sarah's funeral from beginning to end.

Roosevelt was a good man. He was the youngest vice president/general manager in the league and we were blessed to have him for our football team. After all the wrong his wife had done to him, he did all the right things for her. A man that wonderful deserved a wife like me.

I didn't disclose to Nyle the details of what the authorities would find. What my father had done, I was about to undo.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from If You Don't Know Me by Mary B. Morrison. Copyright © 2014 Mary B. Morrison. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

If You Don't Know Me (Book 3: Series If I Can't Have You)
Books by Mary B. Morrison: http://www.amazon.com/Mary-B.-Morrison/e/B001ILIDYU

About Mary B. Morrison
New York Times bestselling author Mary B. Morrison believes that women should shape their own destiny. Born in Aurora, IL, and raised in New Orleans, LA, she took a chance and quit her near six-figure government job to self-publish her first book, Soulmates Dissipate, in 2000 and begin her literary career.

Mary’s books have appeared on numerous bestseller lists, and she’s a frequent contributor to The Michael Baisden Show. Mary is also actively involved in a variety of philanthropic endeavors, and in 2006 she sponsored the publication of an anthology written by 33 sixth-graders.

In 2010, Mary produced a play based on her novel, Single Husbands, which she wrote under her pseudonym, HoneyB. In addition to her novels and play, Mary has a multi-film development deal with Codeblack Entertainment for her Soulmates Dissipate series.

Mary currently resides in Oakland, CA, with her wonderful son, Jesse Byrd, Jr., who is following in his mother’s creative footsteps and pursuing a career in TV/film and writing. Visit Mary's website at www.marymorrison.com

The Series in Order of Publication
Book 3: If You Don't Know Me
Book 2: I'd Rather Be With You
Book 1: If I Can't Have You

Purchase the entire series today!

The Real Thing
by Brenda Jackson

What happens when a pretend boyfriend wants more than make-believe? Find out in this Westmoreland novel from New York Times bestselling author Brenda Jackson!

No red-blooded man turns down the chance to escort gorgeous Trinity Matthews—and Adrian Westmoreland is definitely red-blooded. For her, he'll pretend to be her man. But keeping his hands to himself? That is impossible. A Westmoreland always keeps his word, but how long before Adrian turns this fake affair into something real?

Excerpt from The Real Thing by Brenda Jackson

"I understand you're in a jam and might need my help."

In a jam was putting it mildly, Trinity Matthews thought, looking across the table at Adrian Westmoreland.

If only what he'd said wasn't true. And.. if only Adrian wasn't so good-looking. Then thinking about what she needed him to do wouldn't be so hard.

When she and Adrian had first met, last year at his cousin Riley's wedding, he had been standing in a group of Westmoreland men. She had sized up his brothers and cousins, but had definitely noticed Adrian standing beside his identical twin brother, Aidan.

Trinity had found out years ago, when her sister Tara had married Thorn Westmoreland, that all Westmoreland men were eye candy of the most delectable kind. Therefore, she hadn't really been surprised to discover that Thorn's cousins from Denver had a lot of the same traits-handsome facial features, tall height, a hard-muscled body and an aura of primal masculinity.

But she'd never thought she'd be in a position to date one of those men-even if it was only a temporary ruse.

Trinity knew Tara had already given Adrian some details about the situation and now it was up to her to fill him in on the rest.

"Yes, I'm in a jam," Trinity said, releasing a frustrated breath. "I want to tell you about it, but first I want to thank you for agreeing to meet with me tonight."

He had suggested Laredo's Steak House. She had eaten here a few times, and the food was always excellent.

"No problem."

She paused, trying to ignore how the deep, husky sound of his voice stirred her already nervous stomach. "My goal," she began, "is to complete my residency at Denver Memorial and return to Bunnell, Florida, and work beside my father and brothers in their medical practice. That goal is being threatened by another physician, Dr. Casey Belvedere. He's a respected surgeon here in Denver. He-"

"Wants you."

Trinity's heart skipped a beat. Another Westmoreland trait she'd discovered: they didn't believe in mincing words.

"Yes. He wants an affair. I've done nothing to encourage his advances or to give him the impression I'm interested. I even lied and told him I was already involved with someone, but he won't let up. Now it's more than annoying. He's hinted that if I don't go along with it, he'll make my life at the hospital difficult."

She pushed her plate aside and took a sip of her wine. "I brought his unwanted advances to the attention of the top hospital administrator, and he's more or less dismissed my claim. Dr. Belvedere's family is well known in the city. Big philanthropists, I understand. Presently, the Belvederes are building a children's wing at the hospital that will bear their name. It's my guess that the hospital administrator feels that now is not the time to make waves with any of the Belvederes. He said I need to pick my battles carefully, and this is one I might not want to take on."

She paused. "So I came up with a plan." She chuckled softly. "Let me rephrase that. Tara came up with the plan after I told her what was going on. It seems that she faced a similar situation when she was doing her residency in Kentucky. The only difference was that the hospital administrator supported her and made sure the doctor was released of his duties. I don't have that kind of support here because of the Belvedere name."

Adrian didn't say anything for a few moments. He broke eye contact with her and stared down into his glass of wine. Trinity couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

He looked back at her. "There is another solution to your problem, you know."

She lifted a brow. "There is?"

"You did say he's a surgeon, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I could break his hands so he'll never be able to use them in an operating room again."

She stared wide-eyed at him for a couple of seconds before leaning forward. "You're joking, right?"

"No. I am not joking. I'm dead serious."

She leaned back as she studied his features. They were etched with ruthlessness and his dark eyes were filled with callousness. It was only then that Trinity remembered Tara's tales about the twins, their baby sister, Bailey, and their younger cousin Bane. According to Tara, those four were the holy terrors of Denver while growing up and got into all kinds of trouble-malicious and otherwise.

But that was years ago. Now Bane was a navy SEAL, the twins were both Harvard graduates-Adrian obtained his PhD in engineering and Aidan completed medical school- and Bailey, the youngest of the four, was presently working on her MBA. However, it was quite obvious to Trinity that behind Adrian Westmoreland's chiseled good looks, irresistible charm and PhD was a man who could return to his old ways if the need arose.

"I don't think we need to go that far," she said, swallowing. "Like Tara suggested, we can pretend to be lovers and hope that works."

"If that's how you prefer handling it."

"Yes. And you don't have a problem going along with it? Foregoing dating other women for a while?"

He pushed his plate aside and leaned back in his chair. "Nope. I don't have a problem going along with it. Putting my social life on hold until this matter is resolved will be no big deal."

Trinity released a relieved sigh. She had heard that since he'd returned to Denver to work as one of the CEOs at his family-owned business, Blue Ridge Land Management, Adrian had acquired a very active social life. There weren't many single Westmoreland men left in town. In fact, he was the only one. His cousin Stern was engaged to be married in a few months; Bane was away in the navy and Aidan was practicing medicine at a hospital in North Carolina. All the other Westmoreland men had married. Adrian would definitely be a catch for any woman. And they were coming after him from every direction, determined to hook a Westmoreland man; she'd heard he was having the time of his life letting them try.

Trinity was grateful she wasn't interested. The only reason she and Adrian were meeting was that she needed his help to pull off her plan. In fact, this was the first time they had seen each other since she'd moved to Denver eight months ago. She'd known when she accepted the internship at Denver Memorial last year that a slew of her sister's Westmoreland cousins-in-law lived here. She had met most of them at Riley's wedding. But most lived in a part of Denver referred to as Westmoreland Country and she lived in town. Though she had heard that when Adrian returned to Denver he had taken a place in town instead of moving to his family's homestead, more for privacy than anything else.

"I think we should put our plan into action now," he said, breaking into her thoughts.

He surprised her further when he took her hand in his and brought it to his lips while staring deeply into her eyes. She tried to ignore the intense fluttering in her stomach caused by his lips brushing against her skin.

"Why are you so anxious to begin?"

"It's simply a matter of timing," he said, bringing her hand to his lips yet again. "Don't look now but Dr. Casey Belvedere just walked in. He's seen us and is looking over here."

Let the show begin.

Adrian continued to stare deep into Trinity's eyes, sensing her nervousness. Although she had gone along with Tara's suggestion, he had a feeling she wasn't 100 percent on board with the idea of pretending to be his lover.

Although Dr. Belvedere was going about his pursuit all wrong, Adrian could understand the man wanting her. Hell, what man in his right mind wouldn't? Like her sister, Tara, Trinity was an incredibly beautiful woman. Ravishing didn't even come close to describing her.

When he'd first met Tara, years ago, the first thing out of his mouth was to ask if she had any sisters. Tara had smiled and replied, yes, she had a sister who was a senior in high school with plans to go to college to become a doctor.

Jeez. Had it been that long ago? He recalled the reaction of every single man at Riley's wedding when Trinity had showed up with Thorn and Tara. That's when he'd heard she would be moving to Denver for two years to work at the hospital.

"Are you sure it's him?" Trinity asked.

"Pretty positive," he said, studying her features. She had creamy mahogany-colored skin, silky black hair that hung to her shoulders and the most gorgeous pair of light brown eyes he'd ever seen. "And it's just the way I planned it," he said.

She arched a brow. "The way you planned it?"

"Yes. After Tara called and told me about her idea, I decided to start right away. I found out from a reliable source that Belvedere frequents this place quite a bit, especially on Thursday nights."

"So that's why you suggested we have dinner here tonight?" she asked.

"Yes, that's the reason. The plan is for him to see us together, right?"

"Yes. I just wasn't prepared to run into him tonight. Hopefully all it will take is for him to see us together and-"

"Back off? Don't bank on that. The man wants you and, for some reason, he feels he has every right to have you. Getting him to leave you alone won't be easy. I still think I should just break his damn hands and be through with it."

"No."

He shrugged. "Your call. Now we should really do something to get his attention."

"What?"

"This." Adrian leaned in and kissed her.

Trinity was certain it was supposed to be a mere brus...

( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Brenda Jackson. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this sneak peek.

About the Author
A NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling and award-winning author of more than one hundred published romance titles, Brenda Jackson is a recent retiree who divides her time between family, writing and traveling. Readers may write Brenda at P.O. Box 28267, Jacksonville, Florida 32226, by email at WriterBJackson@aol.com or visit her website at www.brendajackson.net.

The Real Thing by Brenda Jackson
Series: The Westmorelands
Available Mar 4, 2014
Link: http://amzn.com/0373733003

Open Door Marriage
by Naleighna Kai

“Open Door Marriage is a page-turner from start to finish, uniquely written to explore the emotions of three people who have bonds that seem unbreakable. That is, until they are tested in a relationship that causes their families, religious leaders, and the public to be up in arms. Naleighna Kai has written a provocative novel that is about a relationship that is as complicated as it can get.” –Valarie Prince, author of The Lair of the Python

A chance encounter lands NBA star Dallas Avery back in the arms of the woman of his dreams. A woman he hasn’t seen in years. A woman he soon discovers just so happens to be his fiancée’s aunt! But Dallas’ fiancee, Tori, isn’t ready to give up all that she’s worked for, so she makes him a shocking offer – go through with the wedding and she’ll still allow him to be with the one woman he now can’t seem to do without. Dallas will get a family, something her much older aunt, Alicia can’t give him. Tori will get the lifestyle she clamors. And Alicia will get the love she’s longed for all her life. Everyone will get a little of what they want . . . and maybe a whole lot of what they don’t.

The details of the trio’s love life play out in the tabloids and on talk shows, making Dallas the center of an NBA scandal. And eventually, the doors slam shut on this open marriage and Dallas is forced to make a choice to end the chaos. But moving on is easier than it looks and by the time all is said and done, secrets will be revealed, passions will be extinguished, and everyone’s lives will be forever changed.

“Open Door Marriage is a page-turner from start to finish, uniquely written to explore the emotions of three people who have bonds that seem unbreakable. That is, until they are tested in a relationship that causes their families, religious leaders, and the public to be up in arms. Naleighna Kai has written a provocative novel that is about a relationship that is as complicated as it can get.” –Valarie Prince, author of Lair of the Python

“While a few books have tackled this subject in different ways, the way Naleighna Kai approaches a difficult situation is sure to be fuel for heated conversations for years to come. Open Door Marriage proves many things, but mostly that the title of my novel holds true.—Janice Pernell, author of There’s No Right Way to do a Wrong Thing.

Excerpt from Chapter 1

THANKSGIVING - CHICAGO, ILLINOIS

NOVEMBER 22—7:23 P.M.

“You slept with my aunt?”

The words still didn’t register, even though this had to be Tori’s fifth time saying them. She glared at her fiancé, still desperately trying to come to terms with the information her mother had blasted to everyone at the packed Thanksgiving dinner table.

“Seriously? How is that even humanly possible when you didn’t know the woman four hours ago?” Tori shouted.

“Tori, l-let me explain,” Dallas stammered.

Twelve pairs of eyes were now focused on the not-quite-blissful couple standing at the bottom of the stairs just off from the dining room.

“But not here. Let’s go somewhere and talk. It’s not what you think.”

“What did you do?” Tori snapped, glaring up at Dallas. “Trip over the sheets, and your penis somehow landed in a woman nearly twice my age?”

The drumstick in Uncle Bill’s hand paused in midair on its journey to his wide mouth. Cousin Tiny’s fleshy hand flew to her overexposed bosom and came to rest somewhere above her heart. Even Tori’s father’s frozen expression of alarm would have been Three Stooges comical if the situation weren’t so tragic.

Aunt Yoli was the first to recover. “Did they just say what I think they said?”

In unison, everyone nodded.

“Girl, shut the front door and run out the back!”

A few bursts of nervous laughter sprang up around the table, but they were not nearly enough to chase away the unease that had flooded the room when Tori stepped into the house. She’d gone to drop off Aunt Rose’s drunk self at home. Tori hadn’t even been in the house good when her mother, Bernice, blurted out that she’d caught Alicia and Dallas together. Alone. In bed. In the nude. Tori had picked up from there and summed it up in one sweep. “You slept with my aunt ...”

“Nothing happened, Tori,” Dallas said, his voice shaky. “I didn’t sleep with her.”

“So, my mama is lying?” Tori asked.

Dallas shifted uneasily.

“Hell naw. I know what I saw,” Bernice snapped. She had moved from the dining room table to the end of the staircase, right next to her daughter, poised as if she was ready to go to battle. “Both of you were in bed butt-ass naked.” She jabbed a finger in her sister-in-law’s direction. Alicia hadn’t moved from her spot at the top of the staircase. Probably, because she knew what was best for her. “She was butt-naked. And he was nut-naked,” Bernice yelled. “Wasn’t an inch of space between them.” She flickered a gaze a Dallas. “Look at him. You can tell he just got dressed!”

Tori closed her eyes and took deep breaths to calm the emotions that warred within her.

“See, I told you Alicia wasn’t worth a damn,” Bernice, crowed with savage satisfaction. “And looks like Mr. NBA ain’t much better. You thought he was all that and a side order of fries.”

Dallas Avery was the NBA’s most valuable player, and a man most women would give their right and left ovary to call their own. But Most Eligible Bachelor or not, he had set Tori’s bitch meter into overdrive. Even with his chiseled, handsome face, towering muscular frame and million dollar bank accounts, he was now worth next to nothing in her eyes. Too bad her aching heart didn’t get that memo.

Tori didn’t know if she was more enraged or hurt that her mother had been all too willing to drive this stake through her own daughter’s heart in order to publicly disgrace Alicia.

“Tori, we need to talk about this,” Dallas repeated before adding, “in private.”

Bernice wore a satisfied smirk as she glared openly up at Alicia, who just kept staring stoically at them from the second floor landing. “The angel of the family has fallen,” Bernice said.

“Hey, Bernice,” Bill taunted with a hearty chuckle. “Bet you won’t say that when Alicia comes downstairs. You know she’s gonna put a hurting on you.”

“You mean put another hurting on her,” Aunt Yoli added, doubling over with laughter.

Tori wanted to scream. Her life was unraveling in front of her and her family was cracking jokes.

Instinctively, Bernice inched away from the staircase and back toward the dining room table. Her hands went up to the small scar on her neck, probably remembering that a year ago on this very same holiday, Alicia had ended a vicious blow-for-blow fight with a knife at Bernice’s throat. Almost gave the woman a “Sicilian Smile”—an ear-to-ear slice across the throat.

Dallas reached for Tori’s hand. “It’s not what it seems.”

She snatched away, parted her lips to give him what was left of her mind, but Cousin Tiny chimed in first. “Alicia had every right to take Bernice to the floor last year for that foul mess she said! I would’ve pulled out my own can of whoop ass behind that one.”

Tiny’s husband, Thomas nodded his watermelon-sized head.

The rest of the family finally sprang to life, also chiming in at once to defend Alicia, the one woman everyone could count on in a time of need, to lend an ear when it was called for and to dry a tear when no one else bothered to care. That she would do something as low as sleep with her niece’s soon-to-be husband was unthinkable. So the family sidestepped that issue for as long as they could, finding it more comfortable to speak on the reason no one had expected Alicia home for Thanksgiving—especially since none of them had heard from her for an entire year.

Dallas maneuvered so he was in front of Tori. “Nothing. Happened.”

“If Bernice had said that bull to me,” Bill responded, still trying to tackle the last of the drumstick, “an ass whipping would’ve been the least of her problems.” He beckoned toward the last slice of sweet potato pie at the other end of the table. “That has my name written all over it.”

“Bernice is lying,” Martha said. “Alicia’s still got looks and all, but that young stud wouldn’t pick her over Tori.” She shot an appreciative glance toward Dallas, then leaned to her right and whispered loudly in Yoli’s direction, “But, girl, he is finer than frog’s hair.”

Yoli gave him a lusty once-over. “I’d give him some my damn self. He’s the type of man who can make a woman put a for sale sign on one thigh and an open for business sign on the other. Yes, Lawd!”

Tori tried her best to tune out her family. She didn’t have the stamina to deal with them right now. “How could you do this? You’re my fiancé.”

“You’re Tori’s fiancée?” Alicia finally spoke out. She eased down the stairs, looking first to Tori then to Dallas. Her panic-stricken expression gave Tori pause. Could her aunt really have not known?

Alicia turned back to her niece. “Oh, my, God, Tori. I had no idea. I’m so, so sorry.” She didn’t give Tori time to reply as she brushed past Dallas, slipped into the nearest pair of shoes—her brother’s—and ran out of the front door, oblivious to the fact that she barely had on enough clothing to protect her from the chill in the room, let alone the sub-zero temps of a Chicago winter.

The whole crowd gasped in disbelief as Dallas grabbed his leather coat from the foyer closet. “She can’t go out there with nothing on,” he said as he stepped into his Timberlands. “I’ll be right back.”

Tori was ready to spit fire. “Are you kidding me?” she screamed as he quickly laced up his shoes, then darted toward the door. “You’re going after my aunt? My aunt!” she yelled, following him. “My heart is bleeding all over the carpet and you’re going after her!”

The front door slammed and Tori stood frozen, unable to believe what happened in the last ten minutes. Bernice’s voice snapped Tori out of her trance. “Girl, I taught you better than that,” Bernice yelled, gesturing to the door. “You’d better go get your man!”

( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Naleighna Kai. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Share a link to this page or the author's website if you really like this sneak peek.

About Naleighna Kai
Naleighna Kai is the national bestselling author of Every Woman Needs a Wife, with a spin-off titled, The Pleasure’s All Mine and Open Door Marriage. She started writing in December of 1999, independently publishing her first two novels before acquiring a book deal with an imprint of Simon & Schuster and most recently a book deal with Brown Girls Publishing--the offspring of mega-successful national bestselling authors—Victoria Christopher Murray and ReShonda Tate Billingsley. She is a contributing author to a New York Times Bestseller, an award-winning author, the E. Lynn Harris Author of Distinction, and a noted book club favorite on Oprah.com.

Naleighna works for a major international law firm and is the CEO of Macro Marketing & Promotions Group, as well as the marketing consultant to several national bestselling and aspiring writers. She is also the brainchild behind the annual Cavalcade of Authors events which takes place in her hometown of Chicago. Naleighna pens contemporary fiction, erotica, and speculative fiction and is currently working on her next novels: Was it Good For You Too?, Rich Woman's Fetish and Slaves of Heaven.

Find Naleighna on the web at: www.naleighnakai.com and www.thecavalcadeofauthors.com. Like on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/naleighnakai or Follow on Twitter: https://twitter.com/NaleighnaKai

Purchase Open Door Marriage by Naleighna Kai
Download Link: http://amzn.com/B00I5VFS3K

One Word at a Time...
by Cerece Rennie Murphy

One of the most frequent questions I get when someone finds out that I am an author is "How do you find the time to write with 2 young children and a family?"

To this, I usually try to come up with something that's encouraging like, "Well, I try to carve out a little time everyday" or "I write whenever I can," but the truth is that, most days, I am hard pressed to answer that question for myself. For me, it is a daily struggle to find the time and space to get into a consistent writing rhythm with my books. And if it was "challenging" with our first child, it pretty much all went to hell with our second. There were times when I doubted that my second book, The Red Order, would EVER get finished.

Sometimes, like this very week, I will come off a snowball of unexpected school closings, illnesses and last-minute emergencies to get a whole day off during the weekend to write {insert the sound of angels singing here} only to have those plans shot down by ME catching the illness of my "was ailing, but now fully recovered" child and lying in bed the entire day sick as a dog and unable to write. (As I write this, I am recovering from a wicked stomach virus that had me laid out after throwing up for 5 hours straight).

The point is, it's hard. You have to fight for it. Hunger for it and dream about that next chapter, that next scene. I keep a notebook by my bed so I can always get something done or sketch out a scene, even if it's only in broken phrases. And you know what, little by little, those sentences and phrases, snippets of dialogue slowly become a book.

I looked at my little notebook last night and was shocked to find that despite all the distractions, unexpected interruptions and mayhem that seem to make up the fabric of my life, I have outlined all 23 chapters of my next book. There may be a chapter or two added once the real writing starts, but I am done with this phase of my novel. I stared at my notebook in disbelief for a long time because I've literally been trying for months to get to this point. And the only reason it happened is because I didn't give up. I wrote it down, one word at a time.

And that's how I get it done.

View the Source on the CMG Blog

About the Author
Cerece Rennie Murphy fell in love with science fiction at the age of seven, watching “Empire Strikes Back” at the Uptown Theater in Washington, D.C., with her sister and mom. It’s a love affair that has grown ever since. As an ardent fan of John Donne, Alice Walker, Kurt Vonnegut and Alexander Pope from an early age, Cerece began exploring her own creative writing through poetry.

She earned her master’s degrees in social work and international relations at Boston College and Johns Hopkins School for Advance International Studies, respectively, and built a rewarding 15-year career in program development, management and fundraising in the community and international development arenas – all while appreciating the stories of human connection told in science fiction through works like Octavia Butler’s “Wild Seed,” Frank Herbert’s “Dune” and “The X-Files.”

In 2011, Cerece experienced her own supernatural event - a vision of her first science fiction story. Shortly after, she began developing and writing what would become the “Order of the Seers” trilogy.

Cerece lives just outside of her hometown of Washington, D.C., with her husband, two children and the family dog, Yoda.

Books by Cerece Rennie Murphy http://www.amazon.com/Cerece-Rennie-Murphy/e/B008G6XXBS

Making Better Decisions
By Dr. Daryl Green

Can we afford to make the same decisions this year? While politicians and media pundits seize the opportunity of each life-changing event, families seek to make the best of a struggling economy. According to the latest government job report this month, just 74,000 more people were employed in December versus 205,000 expected by USA Today's survey of 37 economists.

Life will become tougher for job seekers as globalization sweeps down on country after country. For some countries, they will become industry leaders while others will fade into the night of obscurity. Many Americans are retreating from the workforce, causing the unemployment rate to fall to 6.7% in December. In fact, only 62.8% of the adult population is participating in the labor market now; participation rates relate to those individuals who have employment or those actively seeking employment. Heidi Shierholz, an Economic Policy Institute economist, explains: "We're going to have a long-term unemployment crisis for a long time." This current low participation in the job market matches the lowest level since 1978.

Sadly, many folks fail to understand the consequences of their decisions. For example, Vanessa Williams was one of these fallen Hollywood icons. In 1983, Williams became the first African-American woman to be crowned Miss America. However, her immediate success was short-lived due to a scandal. Consequently, Williams was forced to relinquish her title; she probably did not think her youthful deed would come back and wreck her dreams.

Yet, the consequences not only damaged Williams but her family, friends, and millions of her fans. Nobel Prize author Albert Camus once noted, "Life is the sum of all your choices." In spite of all wise counsel, some people seem to have a knack for making poor decisions.

Sadly, many poor decisions have unforeseen impacts. Nancy Cavender and Howard Kahane, authors of Logic and Contemporary Rhetoric, argue for better decision making under this financial crisis: "Now, more than ever, we need to think critically about the world we live in and the decisions we make." They point to the dire consequences of poor decision making. In fact, these circumstances often can be traced back to a root cause.

The Law of Unintended Consequences relates to any purposeful action that will generate unintended consequences. This law can be categorized into several areas: (a) a positive unexpected benefit called serendipity, (b) a negative effect which is contrary to the original intention, and (c) a potential source of problems which is commonly referred to as Murphy's Law.

Like Murphy's Law, some decisions may appear to afflict some people as if their lives are cursed. Making the right decision is a difficult process. No one will applaud your many good decisions; however, you will probably catch heat over the bad ones. In fact, every person, regardless of their background or social standing, can benefit from good decision-making techniques. In this life, most people make decisions to the best of their abilities. When various things happen, especially bad ones, individuals must be ready to deal with them. Therefore, understanding unintended consequences can assist in helping us make better decisions for the future.

About Daryl Green
Dr. Daryl Green has done extensive research on cultural issues impacting today and future leaders. He is an author of several books including Breaking Organizational Ties: How to Have a More Fulfilled Life in Your Current Job. For more information, you can contact him at www.darylgreen.org. © 2014 by Daryl D. Green

You'll Sense It First In Your Spirit
God speaks in your spirit, not your flesh!
by Rugina Poellnitz

". . . I hear a mighty rainstorm coming!" 1 Kings 18:41 (NLT)

Are you going through a dry spell? Are you busy encouraging others while your own life seems to be falling apart?

Have you continually asked God to hear your cries and answer prayers in a certain area? Has He begun to speak promises and hope into your Spirit? Does His message and promises appear to be contradictory to what is happening around you?

Alternatively, have you ceased believing in the promises that He placed within your spirit due to delayed answers? After He spoke to your heart, did things get increasingly worse and more confusing causing you to doubt His promises? Did you sense a change within your spirit and quelled it because promises were simply too outrageous to become possible?

Maybe your business is floundering, or you're facing some unexpected health concerns or family problems. That's what happened to Elijah; this man who earlier called down fire from heaven suddenly found himself in the middle of a full-blown famine.

So what did he do? Listen: '. . . Elijah . . . got down on his knees, with his face to the ground' (1 Kings 18:42 TLB). Elijah chose to: (a) shut out his surroundings for a while; (b) focus only on what God was saying; (c) and he kept praying. And when he did, the Bible says he heard 'a mighty rainstorm coming!' What Elijah sensed inside was completely contrary to what was happening outside. His spirit sensed an 'abundance of rain' - before a single drop fell.

God speaks in your spirit, not your flesh; what He says there, is more real than anything that's happening around you! But be warned: what you sense in your spirit may go against what you have in the bank, or what's happening on the job, or what's taking place at home, or what's happening in your body. Elijah had to discount all the 'no rain' reports he kept getting. So will you.

When you know that God's promised you a certain thing, you must tune out all the negativity around you, reject your doubts and keep believing God!

Saints, when God is ready to change seasons or bring about a new beginning - you'll sense it first in your spirit. Although things may appear to be moving in the same direction, the truth is that God has already begun to steer things.

When God places something new into our spirits, let's lean in closer to determine what He is saying. As we continue to pray, clarity coupled with hope will burst forth. He is orchestrating blessings and maneuvering around mountains while strengthening us to fulfill the assigned tasks. Oftentimes, He will drop promises into our spirits that appear to be contrary to what is happening around or within us. Our minds may have a difficult time grasping the message from God especially when certain situations seem impossible. If we stay the course, our experiences will range from the miraculous to marvelous answered prayers. Without a vision of the completed picture, we may lose sight of where God is ultimately taking us. It would be overly tempting to bail out prematurely. God is faithful to perfect and perform things behind the scenes until our promise is manifested.

God does the lion's share of the work while our primary task is to believe. We are to trust Him no matter what our eyes see. Obedience is paramount when emotions and naysayers speak against God's promises. The path has already been laid out for us therefore we can humbly yet confidently walk in it until the end result manifests.

Your Sister in Christ,
Rugina Poellnitz

History of Morning Teas
Morning Teas were written by Diann Thomas and distributed by Linda Cunningham-Hames. My role in them is to (1) read as a personal devotional and (2) write a mini intro posing questions and a message of encouragement.

During 2011, Diann Thomas passed away unexpectedly and sadly, Linda Cunningham-Hames passed away on July 24, 2012. I've never met either in person, corresponded with Linda via email, and never corresponded with Diann. We were connected via technology and hearts for God.

Going forward, I (Rugina Poellnitz) intend to continue to share Morning Teas in their honor (as well as add my Mother, Evelyn Carter-Pete, since she prayed and inspired me (and others) to live faithfully and abundantly prior to her passing in 2007.)

Every Thing Happens for a Reason
Musing of a Freedom Fighter
by Darby West

I was born in the Bronx, NY and migrated to Queens to live with my father when I was five years old. The Queens neighborhood I lived in was a melting pot of cultures. We lived in a two family apartment home owned by a Jamaican family - the Andersons. Next door to them was a Puerto Rican family and beneath them was an African American family, though we were known as Negro and Black at that time. We had a pizza parlor, Chinese restaurant, A German deli...you get the picture. I went to PS-80 and my school was integrated. If there were any racial problems around me when I was a child I was not aware of them.

At 10 years old I moved to NC - a small town called Swan Quarter, it was part of Hyde County. Hyde County was one of the poorest counties in the state. Most of its citizens relied on the fishing industry or the farming industry to survive and take care of their families. My grandparents lived there, and my three older siblings. I moved in May and was enrolled in O.A. Peay School. To my surprise the school was segregated. There were two other schools. One was in Swan Quarter called Mattamuskeet School, but it was for white children only. The other school was in another city of Hyde County called Engelhard, it was called Davis School. It too was segregated and was the other Negro school. Both O.A. Peay and Davis School were considered historical landmarks because they were the oldest schools in the county.

In my neighborhood lived my Cousin Dolly, her daughter and son, my aunt Lucy and Uncle Milton, Cousin Andrew, his wife, son, and two granddaughters, down the road was a white family but I didn't see them for at least a year after I moved down south. This was truly a rural area.

There were only a few weeks of school left that year. I hated this place. At school I was teased for being smart. I was teased because of the way I talked. I was teased because of the way I walked. One boy in my class made a joke one day. He asked the group of kids outside for recess if they knew the difference between a city girl and a country girl. "If the wind is blowing a city girl will hold down her hair and a country girl will hold down her dress!" My classmates laughed loudly. I didn't get it!

My teacher was mean and cruel and would not call on me. She told me that she hated "uppity niggas that try to sound White and make their people look bad!" I had no idea what she was talking about, but those words I remember to this day. Teachers had a paddle and would beat any unruly student with it. The principal also had a paddle - The Board of Education- and he would beat students also. This was unheard of in my school back in Queens.

I wanted to go back home. I could not wait for school to end. I spent the summer with my grandfather's sister, Aunt Deecie. She kept two of her grandchildren that summer - Cynthia Crudup and her brother Ricky. When school started I dreaded it. Nothing had changed. The kids still hated my guts, and talked about me. The boy who told the joke about the city girl and country girl made my life miserable and so did his friend Gary. Gary had been the smart guy in our class, now he had someone in class that was just as smart and he decided to beat me up every day. The teacher did nothing when this child would attack me for no reason other than being jealous and insecure. To further aggravate matters if I raised my hand she ignored me and if I didn’t raise my hand she would deliberately call on, sometimes catching me off guard.

I could not imagine going to that school for the next six years. I had to run away! By the end of the school year we were protesting our civil rights. All I knew about it was that the white folks wanted to tear down one of the Negro schools and bus all the Negro students to that one remaining school. No! The Negro citizens determined it was time to integrate the schools.

I remember my grandfather first trying to reason with my grandmother, trying to talk her into not participating. She was determined that she would and would bring us all along. Then he begged her, to no avail. Finally, he threatened her, "If you fools cause me to lose my job, these kids are going to live with their daddy!"

That morning of the first march was so exciting. We had been watching on TV how Martin Luther King, Jr. was traveling all over the South, marching and boycotting buses, stores, and other businesses. I knew about Birmingham and Rosa Parks. I was ready and pumped!

My grandfather worked just a stone’s throw from the church we were going to meet at, Jobs Chapel Missionary Baptist Church. We were all trying to get dressed so we could ride with him. "Y'all ain't riding nowhere with me! If you wanna get there, y'all better walk!"

We headed out that morning walking the three miles to Jobs Chapel. When we got there a gazillion Negroes were there. I didn't even know that many of us lived in the county! Many of the people there I had never seen before. It was too many people so we had to meet outside. Our leader was Golden Frinks who was a member of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference or SCLC. We marched in twos, singing freedom songs all the way downtown Swan Quarter. As we passed the homes along the way, people stood on their porches watching nervously. They too had watched the racial drama unfold each night on the news. Martin Luther King, Jr. led non-violent protests and we were going to follow the same pattern.

We were out of school for an entire year protesting and marching for our civil rights. Finally, the schools were integrated and that led to another struggle, but now we were Freedom Fighters! Out of the poorest county in North Carolina rose medical doctors, college professors, school teachers, nurses, authors, journalists, fashion designers and more.

I do believe that everything happens for a reason and becoming a Freedom Fighter was my reason for being in that small rural community.

About the Author
Darby West was born in New York and moved to North Carolina when she was a child. The culture shock of being in the rural south during the 60s was not the place the young girl wanted to be. To escape the pangs of a hurtful and racist society, Darby began writing short stories that she shared with her English teacher. The teacher, Mr. R. S. Spencer encouraged her to continue writing.

In 1979 Darby began to work on her first novel, Through the Fire. It would take her over twenty years and much encouraging from her co-workers to get it published. By then she had nearly thirty-five manuscripts.

Darby moved to Winston Salem in 1989, a move she has not once regretted. Since being there she has become active in storytelling, and is a member of the National Association of Black Storytellers and its affiliate, the North Carolina Association of Black Storytellers.

She has shared her motivational stories from Tampa to New York, from North Carolina to San Diego. Follow Darby on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/darby.west

Ripples of Assassinations
by Minnie E. Miller

November 22, 1963. The day was humming with noise of a legal environment. Lawyers were checking their cases, staff typing indictments, orders, and motions on old-fashioned typewriters, and clerks penciling court orders in large, ragged journals. They stood behind a granite countertop half the length of the exceedingly voluminous space. At the end of that space was a glass-enclosed office consisting of one desk, a chair, and one man processing execution documents. My desk was the last in the large clerk’s office and directly in front of his office. I was one of the clerk typists assembling and typing documents being prepared for the execution of human beings.

The Clerk of the Criminal Division of the Court House in Chicago, Illinois, emerged from his sanctuary and announced, “The President of the United States has been shot. The building is closing. Please leave immediately.”

We stood in amazement, our faces frozen. Lawyers accustomed to trying gruesome murders of all types merged with common people for an instant, trying to understand what happened to our President. Law and tradition states that the President must be protected with security of the highest order. I thought, How could this happen?

I admired Senator Kennedy and nearly touched him (until secret service gently moved me further behind the barriers) when he visited Chicago to campaign for the presidency. Orders had come from top political bosses to be prepared to go to the airport. We were to greet the candidate the National Democratic Committee had backed for President of the United States of America. Buses were available at headquarters for those in need of a ride. No excuses accepted!

I was an assistant precinct captain at the time of his arrival, going door-to-door selling the candidate to voters. Nevertheless, it was a fun job for me. My job in the clerk’s office included, among other responsibilities, being a typist among four and the youngest at twenty-seven years old -- my first real job as a Six Ward Young Democrat. Rachel, (a fictitious name, of course), my immediate supervisor and deputy clerk of the criminal division, had taken me into her care. She was also my ride home so I ran when she ran, and followed as best my short legs would allow. Speed-walker best describes Rachel.

Rachel and I knew the workday was going to be short, but not because President Kennedy had been shot. Rachel’s Mother passed two days prior, and she being the oldest daughter had the responsibility of funeral arrangements. My Mom and I worked closely with the family during that stressful time.

The rush was on. Watching Rachel gather her belongings and people rushing by me was clue enough for me to move as well. It was a little past 1:00 p.m. -- lunchtime in the restaurant directly across the street from the Court House. Jimmy owned the restaurant for years. Always a gathering place for lawyers, ‘suspects’ and their families, members of the state attorneys, public defenders, and court stenographers; it seemed most of the criminal division walked across the street to the restaurant filling it to near overflowing.

Note: Some of those present have since moved on to judgeships, state offices and higher. Consequently, I will not name them here.

We all took seats at the selected tables and booths. Of course, all the lawyers were talking about the law, and capital punishment, and what will or should happen to the shooter or shooters. The television blared information from the Texas scene. Nevertheless, the lawyers examined all areas of criminal law in less than an hour.

Suddenly, the loud chatter changed to understated comments in confidential conversations. My mood had been following the crowd, but this shift threw me. Mystified, I mentally wondered what had happened and then followed the eyes of the group at our table. A man who had been on trial as a member of the mafia entered the restaurant with his lawyer leading the way.

Rachel whispered, “Watch me. Move when I move.”

The intrusive guest stood near the tables and announced, “Lunch for everybody,” waving his arms at us. “Jimmy ... steaks on me.”

Persons who knew the defendant uttered indistinctly their thanks, spoke excuses, and left immediately.

Rachel said, “Count me out. Have business to take care of,” and gently pulled me by my sleeve out of the big booth. We rushed to her car as she mumbled something about what the media would do with that stupid impromptu gathering with a member of the mafia.

Talk about unintentional significance!

That week and the following days were chaos for America, Rachel, and me. My Mother stayed close offering Rachel and family condolence even though she had only known Rachel for a short time.

April 4, 1968. Soon the assassination of another great man shook the nation. Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. He was the leader of the modern American Civil Rights Movement. At age 35, he won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964. Dr. King died on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee, from a killer’s bullet.

June 6, 1968. Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated at the Ambassador Hotel in the Mid-Wilshire district of Los Angeles, CA. I was in Los Angeles; my second home and near the hotel on Mariposa Street. At the time, I was working for Governor Pat Brown of California.

These particular events affected my drive to write. I believe my choices are metaphor for life and losses. Please understand, I am still involved in politics, albeit it armchair politics. Working in the background gives one a different view, especially in the case of President Barack Obama.

I believe history will treat our African American President with dignity and respect, unlike today.

About the Author
Minnie E. Miller presently resides in her native state of Illinois in Chicago's Hyde Park community.

She has traveled to London, Paris, Jamaica, and many United States cities where she met individuals of all persuasions. She was a curious kid, a news junkie even in high school, and has worked in politics since the age of eighteen even though she was not old enough to vote.

Miller spent fifty-three years in the workforce. Her last full time job was in the administration of the former Mayor of San Francisco as special assistant to his press secretary. She co-authored "The San Francisco Mayor's Summit for Women: Summit Report 1998." She retired in 1999, left San Francisco, and sped through Atlanta, Georgia. Still, she worked as a freelancer in Atlanta City Council's Communications Office for a year and a half.

Heeding a whisper from her subconscious, Miller returned to Chicago, Illinois. Unable to sit still as a retiree, she took a part-time job at NBC TV. She finally left the workforce May 2004.

Miller lives alone, devotes her time writing, and all things involving the book industry.

She has written many articles and essays. Books by Minnie E. Miller
* The Seduction of Mr. Bradley - Available for Kindle download
* Whispers From The Mirror - Available in Paperback
Purchase copies: https://www.amazon.com/author/minniemiller

Follow Minnie E. Miller Online
Writer, Essayist & Humanist
http://www.msminerva.wordpress.com

Living Free
Written by Peace Still

With each day that I am blessed to breath, I am more empowered to continue in my growth in Christ. I continue to let go and let God. I released the sadness of abandonment because I am never alone. I released the heartache and loneliness because I am never alone. I released the spirit of lack and inferiority, because God supplies all of my needs according to His riches in glory.

My soul is free from all regrets and I no longer have the spirit of shoulda coulda because all things happen for a reason. Nothing no longer surprises me especially with people. I have learned in my years that people choose to do what is important to them, that is ok. I have learned that no matter your growth there will be those who only see your failures all the while failing to see their own. There was a time where all of this mattered. No more. There was a time that I too felt that I was a failure, no more because I AM FEARFULLY AND WONDERFULLY MADE and you are too.

This life, we only get one. There is no do over. Once death comes at your door, you can not change a thing. Trust that death will come and for me, that is when I will truly be free. Full of joy and happiness. Completely healed from all infirmities. Why? Because this world is not my home.

Each day is a new beginning. Each day is a day to start anew. Each day is a day to say I love you and show it. Each day is a day to give praise to the author and finisher of our existence. We are in control of nothing but one thing is true, we all have the ability to do what is right in the sight of God. Remember the day will come when He will ask, what did you do with my son?

We are not a perfect people and we will never be. We do have the power over the choices we make. To be a blessing or a burden. Never sleep on this fact, what you reep you will sow. It is written.

Posted by The Unique View, Peace Still - view the source.
http://theuniqueview.blogspot.com/2014/01/living-free.html

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WHO ARE YOU?
by Diane A. Sears

“Who are you? Who or what defines you?” There is no other soul exactly like you existing on this place and space we occupy which we know as Planet Earth. You are unique. No one sees your view of the world in the manner that you do. They cannot. They are not looking at the world through your eyes. The person that you think or know that you are and how you define yourself, to an extent, influences your view of the world, your decisions, your happiness, and your success. It is up to you to determine who you are. It is up to you to decide who or what defines you. You should be relying on yourself and not others to tell you who you are. No one or no thing should be defining you, but Y-O-U!

So, how do you define Y-O-U? We can start by talking about who you are. You are the energy that flows through every cell in your body. You are your soul. You are your spirit.

Now, let’s talk about what you are not. You are not the “things” that you acquire or wish to acquire during your lifetime. “Things” do not define you. The job that you have, the amount of money you earn each week, the size of your bank account, the neighborhood that you live in, the car that you drive, expensive jewelry, and designer clothes are not who you are.

So, how do you determine who or what defines you? We can start by asking questions. Are you creative? Are you brilliant? Are you talented? Are you honest? Are you empathetic? Are you passionate about everything that you do? Do you have a sense of direction? Are you living your life with a sense of purpose? The answers to these questions will help define you who you are.

Your actions define you. The manner in which you treat the souls who walk among us who are erroneously characterized as “the least among us” – the homeless, the poor, the sick, the disabled -- is what defines you. Do you greet them with kindness and respect when your paths cross? Or do you summarily dismiss them, pretend that they are invisible, and greet them with disdain and disrespect?

Do you create chaos and dissension? Are you a consensus builder? When disputes arise and tempers flare, are you moving the sparring parties to seek common ground? Are you a peace maker or are you escalating a potentially volatile situation?

Keeping or breaking your promises defines who you are. If you make promises and do not honor them, your actions speak volumes about your trustworthiness. On the other hand, if you deliver on the promises that you make, you are telling the world: “You can trust me. My word is my bond.”

Your compassion or lack of empathy defines you. Your conduct and your character define you. Your beauty, your youth, your wealth, and your weight do not define who you are. Substance and not superficiality is what really moves the world. And substance is the only thing that you should allow yourself to be moved by.

You are defined by your courage . . . the courage to step out on faith or to stand in your own truth under the most difficult set of circumstances or when the odds are glaringly stacked against you . . . the courage to allow yourself to be vulnerable.

Your belief in yourself defines who you are. So, who are you?

Connect with the Author
D.A. Sears, International Men's Day - United States Coordinator
Managing Editor - IN SEARCH OF FATHERHOOD®
Website: http://globalfatherhooddialogue.blogspot.com
Member, International Men's Day Coordination Committee
Member, University Council for Fatherhood and Men's Studies Program at Akamai University

Unlock a New Year and a New You!

Annual Resolutions for African American Women
by author Hazel Mills

Release those Painful and Negative Bags! “Suffering is not holding you. You are holding suffering. When you become good at the art of letting sufferings go, then you’ll come to realize how unnecessary it was for you to drag those burdens around with you. You’ll see that no one else other than you was responsible. The truth is that existence wants your life to become a festival.” — so says Osho

A NEW YEAR, A NEW YOU! When people talk about making resolutions for the new year, it usually involves quitting or losing something or someone. For example, millions of people will resolve to quit smoking and twice as many more will promise to lose weight. Beginning the new year, we will be saturated with television and print ad campaigns for gym memberships, weight loss program and equipment deals as well as products to help with nicotine addiction. Although these changes in lifestyle are great and for some, can mean the difference between life or death, there are so many other things that we, as African American women, can do to make our lives more healthy, positive and meaningful throughout the new year.

What baggage are you leaving behind in last year? I'm leaving behind all doubts, fears, guilt and any unsaid thoughts! I'm starting new...new ideas, new friends, new projects, new goals, new is what's hot! Here are a few tips to launch a New You:

1. Resolve to spend more time with God. This should be non-negotiable and always first on everyone's to-do list for the new year. He has created so many beautiful and magnificent things, including you. Resolve to attend church or bible study more often than you do now. Make time in your busy day just to say a quiet "thank you".

2. Resolve to ditch the drama. I can't say enough about this one. The stress of living a drama-filled life can affect your mental and physical health. Find ways to get rid of your own and to avoid getting pulled into the madness of others around you. This is much more challenging to accomplish around the holidays.

3. Resolve to take control of your health. On the morning of January 1 and the rest of the year, ask yourself the following vital questions: What is my HIV status? What are my cholesterol numbers? When was my last pap smear and/or mammogram? When did I last see a dentist? If you can't answer these questions definitively, call your doctor(s) and make an appointment.

4. Resolve not to starve your savings account. Last year was a year of economic hell and we have all cut back on rewarding ourselves with luxuries like new cars and vacations. Some may have dipped into the piggy bank just to make ends meet. In the new year, try to make a point to put a little something away from each paycheck. It doesn't have to be much. Pennies add up to dollars.