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Give the Gift of Knowledge 
Join Our Online Book Tour!

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!   

Each new year, we encourage readers to purchase books to give as gifts 365 days a year.  Listed below are just a few of our book suggestions. Each week we will bring many more!  Let's all agree to "Give the Gift of Knowledge" and help to strengthen our future generations by sharing our wonderful literary legacy!  We have selected several hundred books for your library, check them out at our bookstore, go here.  Please consider share this page and the featured books with your network!

Ella Curry, President of EDC Creations
Black Pearls Magazine Online-Founder
Black Authors Network Radio-Founder
Social Media Strategist - Internet Publicist - Branding Coach



Meet the Publisher of Black Pearls Magazine

EDC Creations is the parent company of the Sankofa Literary Society, the Black Authors Network Radio Show and Black Pearls Magazine, a AALAS award-winner. With a combined reach of potentially 400,000 readers per week, the Black Pearls Magazine, BAN Radio Show and the Sankofa Literary Society are keeping readers well informed on what’s on the book shelves!  

Sankofa Literary Society consists of authors, librarians, 80 established bloggers, 42 nurses, 15 independent bookstores,  45 reviewing bookclubs and  has over 2,700 members online and offline in total, with 877 of those members coming from bookclubs or established reading groups.  Quarterly the SLS publishes the popular TOP 100 BEST BOOKS lists. Each summer the SLS hosts the annual Chocolate Socials which brings more than 400 readers and authors to Atlanta, GA and New Orleans, LA for the private literary events.

The popular
BAN Radio Show offers a diverse group of international authors a chance to showcase their books to thousands readers weekly.  BAN Radio reaches more than 118,000 readers per week via newsletter and has produced 24,500 downloads per featured show.  The syndicate feed reaches thousands per week.  

As the host of award-winning BAN Radio Show and editor of Black Pearls Magazine, Ella has interviewed award winning authors, celebrated journalists, and community leaders such as: the legendary Dr. Maya Angelou, Alexis M. Herman former U.S. Secretary of Labor, The View's co-host Sherri Shepherd, Pulitzer Prize winning columnist Leonard Pitts Jr. Also, New York Times bestselling authors Walter Mosley, Kimberla Lawson Roby, Mary Frances Berry, Brenda Jackson, Mary B. Morrison, Francis Ray, and Wahida Clark.

In addition to interviewing change agents, she has showcased such top-selling authors as: Sue Monk Kidd, Dr. Bernard Walker former US astronaut, Dr. Daniel Black, Dr. Cornell West, Dr. Sampson Davis,  Paula Giddings,  Sonia Sanchez, social activists Dr. Dorothy Irene Height and Jayne Cortez, Olympian Devon Harris, children's book author Eloise Greenfield, and  Flo Anthony host of  the syndicated radio shows "Gossip On The Go With Flo" and "Flo Anthony's Big Apple Buzz.   

Black Pearls Magazine
, is an award-winning (AALWS) online literary destination for thousands bookclubs and social network fans around the globe. Black Pearls Magazine has more than 79,000 subscribers. BPM also has 165,000 loyal newsletter readers. The newsletter click through rate is at 81% as of August 4, 2013.  

Ella D. Curry, the editor-in-chief, has interviewed award-winning actors and actresses such as Hill Harper, Queen Latifah, Jennifer Hudson, Dakota Fanning, Pam Grier, Tristan Wilds, Tyrese Gibson,  Bern Nadette Stanis, Eriq La Salle and international motivational speaker Lisa Nichols from the Secret DVD.  While providing media coverage for the Congressional Black Caucus Author's Pavilion and Book Expo America for the last 6 years, Ella has found that interviewing profound community leaders shaped her own life and Black Pearls Magazine. 

She has interviewed and learned from: Dr. Julianne Malveaux, political commentator and 15th president of Bennett College; award-winning journalist Gwen Ifill; Dr. Brenda Greene, Exec. Dir. of the Center for Black Literature, Medgar Evers College; Annette Gordon-Reed, American historian and Harvard Law School professor; MC Lyte, BET Lifetime Achievement Award winner; and Lynn Richardson, the Mortgage Guru and leader of MC Lyte's Hip Hop Sisters Foundation.


Ella D. Curry
,  the president of EDC Creations, brings more than twenty-five years of PR and marketing experience to clients in film, music, publishing and corporate event planning.  Widely recognized as a leading expert on African American Internet book promotion she is asked to speak and/or moderate panels at literary events and conferences across the nation. Her client list reads like the Who's Who Elite of publishing.

Ms. Curry lives in Maryland with daughter and life partner. When she's not working, she loves to travel, write short stories, and chatting in Internet groups with her international group of friends. As her entrepreneurial spirit guides the way upward, she continues to involve herself in challenging, life enhancing projects.

If you would like more information or have comments, you may reach her via email at: or visit the parent website at: Visit Ella Curry’s Media Room:  



Who are the Black Pearls Magazine and BAN Radio Fans?

Based on a survey we sent out October 20, 2013 to our email database of 165,000+ subscribers, we found out the following information about our readers. These numbers are based on 91% participating in the survey. The readers were surveyed on the Black Authors Network and Black Pearls Magazine potential to educate and entertain them weekly. Read the summarized data below to obtain a snapshot of the purchase power of our readers and subscribers. We use this information to determine our campaign approach. 

Age of Subscribers for Black Pearls and BAN Radio

7%----19-29 years old
51%---30-39 years old
37%---40-49 years old
4%---50-59 years old
1%-----60-79 years old


Gender and Sexual Preference

27%----LGBT or Alternate Lifestyle

Race or Cultural Identity of Subscribers

91%----US readers and fans
9%------International readers and fans
51%----African American
2%------Middle Eastern

Education of Subscribers

5%-----High School Grad Only
3%-----Some College
67%----College Grad
25%----Advanced Degree

Annual Income of Subscribers (only 81% answered)

1%----20k or under

Reading and Shopping Habits of Subscribers

61%--Wanted more diverse races and topics on the radio show
73%--Watch TV online via the networks, Hulu, Crackle or Netflix
77%--Still purchased printed books or read printed books
75%--Own a eReader, iPod or iPad
95%--Have smartphones or iPhones
67%--Post product reviews at online retailers
87%--Purchase based on recommendations vs. paid ads
76%--Have Blog or Tumblr account
86%--Have Twitter accounts
93%--Have Facebook accounts
81%--Have Youtube accounts
88%--Have Pandora accounts
73%--Have Instagram accounts

78%--Have Goodreads accounts

81%--Have Amazon Kindle accounts
19%--Have B&N Nook accounts
94%--Prefer Texting over actual phone conversation
74%--Prefer Facebook over Twitter
81%--Prefer ooVoo or FaceTime over Skype for video chats
85%--Prefer YouTube as video provider
86%--Prefer online media versus printed media
44%--Still buy newspapers, magazines and CDs
85%--Our fans stay online 8 hours or more per day
77%--Check their email at least 5 times per day
84%--Will open email eblasts or newsletters
67%--Subscribe to opt-in email newsletters
91%--Prefer subscriptions to their inbox versus surfing the web
83%--Prefer live author readings over reading pdf excerpts
81%--Download favorites radio shows to share
92%--Download shows to personal listening devices
86%--Tell at least 5 people about the show
87%--Join Twitter chats and Facebook chats
66%--Add the radio widget player to their own blogs
55%--Hate auto-responders and email forwards from friends
54%--Spent more than 6 hours per month researching on Google

Attitudes, Values and Lifestyles

71%-----Read more than 5 printed books per month
78%-----Downloaded more than 10 books per month
63%-----Purchased books after listening to our radio show
53%-----Stated that price determined the purchase of ebooks
66%-----Gave books featured on the show as gifts
51%-----Joined book clubs online or Facebook groups
68%-----Purchase books for children or teen themed books
71%-----Favorite genre, Fiction
35%-----Favorite genre, Motivational
68%-----Favorite genre, Adult Content
49%-----Favorite genre, Non-fiction or poetry
89%-----Shop online weekly
14%-----Homemaker or stay at home parent
88%-----Spend more than $100.00 monthly for online entertainment
68%-----Married over 5 years
47%-----Single, without children
67%-----Single, but with children
82%-----In Committed relationship
68%-----Teenage children in the home
47%-----Caregiver to aging parent or relative




The Last King 
by A. Yamina Collins

The Last King went #1 on the Free Amazon Kindle bestsellers list in three categories:
African American literature, historical fantasy, and African-American romance.

The Last King: Book 1, Volume #4 by A. Yamina Collins.  Available for download now: 

In episode #4 Emmy accepts an invitation to the home of Gilead and Markus - and when she enters their home, a whole new world of wonder opens up to her.

Twenty-eight year Emmy Hughes has never quite fit in---she's six feet tall, dark-skinned, and daydreams of being Galadriel from Lord of the Rings. But when she is badly injured in a car accident that kills her mother, Emmy does not dream of fantastical worlds anymore---she just wants her shattered life to be normal again.

Unfortunately, normalcy is the last thing in store for her once she meets Lake George's newest arrival, Dr. Gilead Knightly. Granted immortality from a line of people whose Great Ancestor marched into the Garden of Eden and ate from the Tree of Life, Gilead has been alive for centuries and has met everyone from Nubian kings to Napoleon.

But Gilead and his eccentric family are also hunted beings because God considers the Edenites' possession of immortality to be theft. And for thousands of years He has dealt with their transgression by sending each of them a "Glitch" ---an unsuspecting human meant to retrieve this stolen "property" of immortality and kill them off.

When Emmy discovers that she is Gilead's Glitch, she is not only thrown into a world of immortals who eat bone marrow, panthers who read minds, and a family whose blood is made of pulsing gold, but she finds herself the target of Gilead's vengeance: he must get rid of her before she gets rid of him.

Easier said than done. Because Glitches are not only an Edenite's greatest threat---they're also their greatest love. 

Excerpt The Last King: Book I - Series 1

Chapter 1

It is doubtful the Master will ever hear of what is about to take place, Markus thinks, standing at the bank of this deserted lake. The branches on the trees around him sway peacefully, and the evening air hums a lullaby.

Markus does not suppose that the Master will hear about this and, really, what difference should it make if he does? It's just an old homeless guy that is going to die: Markus feels no guilt about it, so how could his thoughts give him away?

In a moment, he removes his hand from the old man's mouth because he knows the poor fool is too stunned to scream anyway---people are always speechless when they first see Markus's wings, stretched out as they are, twenty feet on either side of him, and tonight the old man simple blinks and lets spittle hang from the corners of his lips.

Markus does not know his victim's name, but his victim certainly knows it: Johnnie is what they call him, Johnnie Kubrick, and his very soul seems to have unzipped itself from his body and stepped outside of him. He is not just rigid but catatonic, and he longs for this to be some terrible dream he will soon wake up from.

But this is no dream, this is reality: there is a man standing before Johnnie who looks human, yet has glass wings on his back that are yellow and whose edges taper off to a thin, razor like end. The wings make a sound like metal crashing against metal as they flap - it is a harsh sound, a cold sound. And yet the wings themselves do not frighten the old man as much as what is attached to the wings do.

Johnnie's pale lips tremble.

"Wha---what are you?" he finally stutters. He does not mean to ask questions. He means to beg for his life because he does not want to die like this---not in these shabby clothes, near a bed of water where he can easily be disposed. He wants to die in a warm room, with someone who loves him holding his hand; Johnny Kubrick wants to die with dignity, different from the way he lived.

The old man chokes on his tears, wishing he was important again, the sort of man who would be missed in death, and he tries to recall how he ever became the sort of person other people diverted their gaze from on the streets. How had he become nameless, faceless, and useless to the world? When he was a boy, he never imagined the day his red hair, so straight and neat, would be constantly matted against his head.

Johnnie wants his mother here with him, so he could take in the soapy smell that was always on her, and smile at the sight of her emerald green eyes. If Johnnie's mother were still alive she would shield him from this boogeyman, and sing to him, like she did that Christmas morning when the cold of winter snapped at his bones but he happily cradled a shiny new firetruck in his arms.

( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, A. Yamina Collins. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.

Excerpt The Last King: Book I - Episode 2


Kill her, a voice in his head tells him.

Yes, of course, he responds. That's what I have to do.

And how should he do it? Should he follow her home when the lecture is over, come up behind her in her driveway, or wherever she lives, and snap her neck like a twig?

Whatever he does, he needs to be cruel. He needs to teach her and the One who sent her a lesson. Yes, that's it. He will do to her what his brother Micau did to his own Glitch: something so physically twisted that it would make the ears of any human who hears about it and finds her remains, shutter.

Slowly he starts to straighten up and just in time. The door to the auditorium swings open suddenly, and out it walks.

He cannot make out her whole face because her hands are covering her mouth and nose, but he can see her big eyes, and the alarm in her face.

Two other people are following it - following her, and making a commotion behind her.

"Hold your head back," one of them is saying, trying to still the bleeding woman's franticness.

But blood has already seeped onto her white dress, and Gilead can hear her saying, "Not again, not again," as she rushes past him.

Not again. So it's happened before. Gilead thinks. Of course it has It happened the other day, while Gilead was standing outside the restaurant, didn't it? She was somewhere around the vicinity that night, near the boardwalk, wasn't she?

In a moment, the woman, looking a bit disoriented no, disappears into the bathroom and Gilead closes his eyes and bites his lower lip.

Now he knows why he missed the fine print on the flier, and why he had a desire to come to this lecture in the first place.

It's Him.

Gilead curses under his breath; curses Him with everything he's got.

Her? he thinks, in disgust. Against the greatness of me? That simple-looking thing?

It's insulting.

Opening his eyes, he takes the opportunity to move toward the exit as a few more new comers enter the building. It's all Gilead can do to appear as normal as possible---he stands up straight and forces himself not to clutch his stomach.

Outside, he takes in several quick breaths of air, and doubles over again.

Why should he fear her?

"I will break her," he mutters to himself. "If I have to rip off her whole face, I will break her."

Something about him saying this brings him a feeling of relief. He is clear-eyed and focused for a moment, even self-assured, for he knows that once he makes up his mind about reaching a goal, it's as good as done.

He will kill her tonight, somehow.

But before he can contemplate how to execute his plans, he cups a hand over his mouth, rushes toward a nearby bush, and vomits onto the leaves and branches.

( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, A. Yamina Collins. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.




Introduction to the Order of the Seers Trilogy 
by Cerece Rennie Murphy

What would you do if you held infinite power in the palm of your hand?

The Order of the Seers trilogy poses this question within a story that fuses action, mystery, romance, and adventure in a science fiction novel that keeps you at the edge of your seat.

Order of the Seers begins with the journey of Liam and Lilith Knight, a brother and sister who are hunted by The Guild, a ruthless world organization that seeks to capture and exploit Lilith’s unique ability as a Seer to envision the future. Soon after they are forced to leave their home, Lilith and Liam discover that she is not alone. Other Seers like Lilith are routinely kidnapped and enslaved by the Guild for the purpose of consolidating wealth and power around the world. But from within the organization, Marcus Akida, a captured Seer with powerful visioning capabilities, quietly plots his daring escape with the help of a beautiful and tortured Seer named Alessandra. When the escaped Seers are drawn to the same remote commune in Iowa as Liam and Lilith, they each find a place where they can rebuild their lives and rediscover their passion for life and love. 

As the Guild’s efforts to find them intensifies, the Seers ban together with outlaws from the commune to fight back against the organization that threatens their lives – setting off a chain of events that will unleash the full power of the Seers and change everything we know about the true potential that lies dormant in each of us. 

The Red Order - Book II  in the Order of the Seers Trilogy continues the epic battle for freedom which began in Order of the Seers, revealing the secret motives behind an organization that exists to exploit and a renegade movement that seeks to usher in the next phase in human evolution. 

So begins The Last Seer - Book III  in the Order of the Seers Trilogy - When the fall of one nemesis unleashes an even greater danger into the world, Lilli, Joel and the Lost Seers must stand against a new enemy with the means and the will to destroy all of mankind, starting with those they hold most dear. As the Seers mobilize to confront this new evil, the Guild tries desperately to uphold the crumbling world order on which it depends. When their attempts to manage the crisis fail, the members of the Guild are forced to place themselves at the mercy of an unlikely ally. 

But the Guild isn't the only one interested in maintaining control. An agreement made in secret threatens to destroy any hope of a peaceful alliance before it can be made and as the betrayals unfold, no one is safe against a power that will stop at nothing to get what it wants. 

To defeat this threat and ensure the survival of the human race, the Seers must push the boundaries of their abilities beyond any limits they have known and risk crossing the line between life and death. How far would you go to protect what matters most?

Purchase The Last Seer (Book 3 in the Order of the Seers Trilogy)


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: 




The Clairvoyant of Calle Ocho 
by Anjanette Delgado

"A thrilling, hilarious, and mysterious romp." --Patricia Engel, It's Not Love, It's Just Paris

Two divorces have taught Mariela Estevez that she's better suited to being a mistress than a wife. Whose heart needs all that "forever after" trouble? Still, her affair with her married lover, Hector, has become problematic--especially because he's also a tenant in her apartment building in the heart of Miami's Calle Ocho in Little Havana. But when Hector is found dead just steps from Mariela's back door, on the eve of her fortieth birthday, she's forced to examine her life--and come up with a plan to save it, fast...

Complicating matters, Hector's passing sparks the unexpected return of a gift Mariela rejected years ago and thought she'd never have to face again: clairvoyance. Suddenly, Mariela's visions come swiftly and unbidden, as do revelations about her other tenants. Lost loves, hidden yearnings, old jealousies--all reside on Calle Ocho. Most of all, Mariela's second sight awakens her not just to the truth about Hector's death and the secrets in others' lives--but to the possibilities blooming within her own.

With warmth, wit, and insight, award-winning author Anjanette Delgado explores one woman's flawed but heartfelt attempt to live and love well, transporting readers to the center of contemporary Little Havana and a community of uniquely human, unforgettable characters.

"The Clairvoyant of Calle Ocho reminds me of why I started reading in the first place--to be enchanted, to be carried away from my world and dropped into a world more vivid and incandescent. Anjanette Delgado loves her characters, even the miscreants, and makes us love them too." 
--John Dufresne, author of No Regrets, Coyote 

Read an Excerpt from The Clairvoyant of Calle Ocho


No hay peor ciego que el que no quiere ver. There is none more blind than he who doesn't want to see.

In my life, I've found that this is most true of women married to unfaithful men. As for the mistress in the equation, the truth is that being the other woman is a decision. A conscious one. Don't believe any woman who tells you she didn't know what she was doing when the penis belonging to your husband just happened to land inside her vagina. Walk away if she starts with "I didn't know," "We started out as friends," or "By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late and we were in love." Because this woman isn't stupid, innocent, or deluded. She's lying.

I can assert this with such conviction because I've been both: the blind woman married to a man who likes to spread it around and the other woman with no excuse.

Or at least that's who I was that afternoon, casually checking into the Hotel St. Michel in Coral Gables. Me, walking into the freshly cleaned room with its French hay-yellow walls, blue-and-white chinoiserie-patterned linens, and dark wood furniture. Me lighting tea lights inside the whiskey glasses I'd lugged here in my environmentally conscious, recycled cotton "Feed" tote, before slipping into the sheer, navy blue, boatneck baby-doll I'd picked up at a Ross Dress for Less discount store for a quarter of its Victoria's Secret price. And none other than moi, waiting for my married lover, Hector Ferro, to walk through the door.

Yep. All me.

A new me. An unmarried me. A me without an owner. Where before I'd wasted life hours straightening my long, wavy black hair because "my husband likes it this way," I now sported honey-colored, neck-length curls around my too-pale face and wide-set brown eyes. Where I used to wear A-line skirts to hide my protruding backside, I now sported snug- enough jeans all the time (high-waisted, low-waisted, skinny, or destroyed to a literal inch of their useful lives), like a symbolic uniform, to show I belonged with the strong, the sexy, and the free.

As I walked around the cozy little room making myself at home, early afternoon sun shafts of light seemed to slip in through the shutters, igniting the yellow walls and making it seem as if the whole room were aglow. In that light, it was easy to imagine I was in Paris instead of Miami, to accept the role of mistress, to allow myself its perks. I was glowing too, more so at thirty-nine than I ever had at twenty-nine, and looked as radiant as if I'd just had a facial, thanks to the green vegetable shakes my neighbor Iris swore by and had taught me to make. That, and a recipe for Dr. Etti's fruity rooibos tea drink, had helped me eliminate almost thirty pounds from my five-foot-five-inch frame in mere months. (Place pineapple and apple peels and a handful of goji berries in a pot of hot water. Allow to boil. Add a few tea bags of African red bush, also called rooibos, set aside to cool, and then refrigerate. Drink with a squirt of raw blue agave nectar for a delicious diuretic.)

Of course, there was more to my glow than tea. I was now, for the first time in my life, enjoying being the object of a man's reckless desire and nothing more. I'd played the role of the betrayed wife twice before. Wasn't I entitled to be on the other side of the broken vows for a change?

A single rap on the hotel room door told me he was here, and I rushed to open it, loving that he jumped all these hoops for no other reason than to make love to me, while resting in the complacent knowledge that the unfaithful ways of the man now slowly and knowingly taking me in with his eyes were someone else's problem.

Hector was in his late forties and attractive in a sophisticated, sexy, citizen-of-the-world kind of way: strong jaw, dark blue eyes that crinkled at the slightest smile, ash-brown hair parted on the side like a newscaster's, and the lean, lanky build of those who can eat what they want without putting on weight.

He'd been a college professor in Argentina and still dressed like one: tan slacks, slightly rumpled cotton shirts always open to reveal crisp, white undershirts, and the same careless khaki trench coat that he must have worn around his Buenos Aires campus, because even in Miami, he never took it off, rain or shine. I could imagine him walking to classes, absorbed in his thoughts, never imagining his country's economy would get so bad he'd have to emigrate to the United States with his wife, a nutritionist of some sort, and use what savings he'd protected to buy a small bookstore in Miami's far-from-gentrified Little Havana.

He was one of those men whose thinning hair did nothing to diminish the power of his charm and undeniable masculinity. I could almost see how his unruly brows coupled with the smile I'd come to know so well, always somewhere between properly friendly and slightly mischievous, might have been hard to resist for even the most emotionally stable of his students.

He was smiling that smile now, as his eyes took in my feet and then my hips, lingering for a moment on my breasts. Next: the outlining of my mouth, and finally a full stop right into my eyes, before grinning with feigned modesty, as if the evil of his thoughts were too much even for him.

"Hey," I said.

"Ey," he returned my greeting, forgetting the h, stepping into the room, and kicking the door shut with his foot before wrapping his arms around me and walking forward, all the while holding me tight, so that I was forced to walk backward in a jumbled tango two-step past the suite's little salon and into the bedroom area, where I heard him toss what I knew would be a book onto the bed behind me.

"I brought you somesing," he said into my ear, the thick Argentinean accent that seemed to underline every sound before it came out of his mouth seeming, to me, even more sexy than usual that day.

I scurried away to see what message might be hidden in the book he'd chosen to bring me this time. It was the pocket version of Chiquita, a novel about a real-life Cuban burlesque dancer who drove men crazy in the late 1800s despite being little more than two feet tall. I smiled. Hector had placed a piece of cigarette box foil on page 405, marking the beginning of a paragraph that I proceeded to read out loud while fighting his efforts to liberate my body from the baby-doll.

"A scandal like that was in no one's best interest so, with all the pain of their souls, the lovers had to separate," I read, then closed the book, confused.

"What's wrong, flaca?" he asked, using his favorite endearment for me, which means "slim" and is common in Argentina.

"Trying to tell me something, mister?"

"What? No! Of course not. The marker, eh, how you say? It must've slipped. You can see how sophisticated it is." He smiled, taking off the trench and slipping off his shoes. "Nah, I just love the author. And, you know, he's local, comes into the store a lot, so, if you like it, I can introduce you to him one of these days."


"Why? Were you scared I was telling you somesing?"

"Pu-leeze," I said, pursing my lips to the side like a good Cuban.

"You do look a little scared," he said, coming closer with pretend concern.

"Nope. I don't do scared, and, frankly, my dear, you think too damn much of yourself," I finished, making my voice deep and husky, my best imitation of Rhett Butler.

He gave me the puzzled look he saved for trying to figure out what movie I was quoting or referring to.

"Gone with the Wind? 'Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn'?" I said.

"Aaaaah, my God, why don't you quote books? Books make good quotes."

"It is a book. A book with over a thousand pages I'll never read when there's a perfectly good movie to tell me the story."

"But if you read the book, you'd know the quote is 'My dear, I don't give a damn.' None of this 'frankly' business. Simple. As it should be. That's why you should quote, and read, books."

"Yes, Professor Ferro," I mocked him, making a mental note to buy the book and read at least the first few chapters, see what I'd been missing.

That was one of the great things about my affair with Hector. Though I never went to college, I wanted to learn and had long before decided to make up for the formal education I'd denied myself by reading everything I could get my hands on. I'd spent countless hours learning all kinds of things: art history, math, philosophy, politics, biology, and enjoying nothing as much as I enjoyed fiction. Literary or trashy, it didn't matter. I craved stories and felt frustrated when my limited education prevented me from fully understanding the old English expressions in a great love story like Wuthering Heights. (I'm sure I'm still missing a lot of it, though I've read it twice.) But now, with Hector, it was like having a private tutor who could unlock any book's secrets. He called it providing context. I called it finally connecting the dots I'd been accumulating for years and loved the thrill of "getting it" when he explained something I'd missed.

"Oooh, forget what I'm saying. A beautiful woman in my hotel room and me a terrrrible, terrrrrible bore," he was saying now. "Why should I tell you what to quote? We're different people with different lives. If you want to watch the movie, you watch the movie, and I'll read the book. Perfect, eh? We'll complement each other."

"Exactly," I said, unsure I liked this interpretation of us.

"Too bad I'll never know what you're quoting," he said, kissing me, his hands searching my willing hips, the keys to my common sense relinquished so many months ago.

"We're not that different," I said, eyes closed, trying to fix what was bothering me. "You're the one who says we have the story chemistry, and—"

"Wait! What is this?" he asked suddenly, focusing the tips of his fingers on a particular spot along my outer thigh.

"What's what?"

"This," he said seriously, lowering himself until he was sitting on his haunches, pretending to examine my thigh with his hands, dragging the tip of his index finger softly over my upper leg, as if outlining something.


"This, eh, like a circle, right here."

"Oh. That. It's a birthmark," I said. Then trying to give the smooth, round, cinnamon-colored stain a positive spin, I added, "My mother had it too," as if that settled that and made it a family heirloom.

"A birthmark. Interesting," he said, closing his eyes and kissing the fleshy top part of my leg where he'd been "tracing."

Then, "Hey! Where did it go?"

I shrugged my shoulders innocently, holding my arms straight and close to my body in order to help the baby-doll fall to the floor, then putting my hands on my hips and looking directly into his eyes.

"A vast improvement," he said, eyes slowly traveling up my body, reaching and meeting my gaze.

"I thought I'd show you I have nothing to hide," I said.

"Clever," he responded, imitating my pure business tone. "Maybe now we'll be able to find it."

"Maybe," I said, thinking men can be endearing when they're being ridiculous and preferring this Hector to the one who lived to argue and to lecture, but could never admit to being wrong.

"Unless you're hiding it," he said, kissing a line across my pelvis. "You do understand, I must be thorough in my search?" he continued, effortlessly coming up to my belly button, kissing it, then my right rib cage. Then, "Wait! I think it may have hidden under here," he said, slipping his palm under the slight curving of my breast as if to cup it. "Um-huh. Yes. Right here."

( Continues... )

Excerpted from The Clairvoyant of Calle Ocho by Anjanette V. Delgado. Copyright © 2014 Anjanette V. Delgado. Excerpted by permission of KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.


"When you're going through hell, keep going." -Winston Churchill

Anjanette Delgado is an award-winning novelist, speaker, and journalist who has written or produced for media outlets such as NBC, CNN, NPR, Univision, HBO and Vogue Magazine’s Latam and Mexico divisions, and for Telemundo, among others. She’s covered presidential coups, elections, the Olympics, both Iraq wars and the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

Early in her career, she became fascinated with heartbreak, the different ways in which it occurs, and the consequences it brings. Her human-interest television series “Madres en la Lejanía” won an Emmy award for its depiction of Latina mothers working as undocumented nannies in the United States, while living with the consequences of having left their own children behind in search of a better life.

Her original screenplay for HBO, “Good in Bed,” was a thesis on the life moments in which sex, love, identity, self, and society collide. 

Her first novel, The Heartbreak Pill (Atria Books, 2008, 2009), about a modern-day Latina enmeshed in a battle between her brain and her heart, won first prize at the Latino International Book Award for Best Romance in English, was a Triple Crown Winner for Best Romance Book in Spanish in 2010, and first prize for Best Romance in Latino Literacy’s “Books into Movies” competition in 2011.

The Clairvoyant of Calle Ocho is Anjanette’s latest novel. Set in vibrant Little Havana, it tells the story of Mariela Esteves, a woman whose choice to renounce her true calling results in two failed marriages, a brush with murder, and a lot of heartbreak. It will be released in the Fall of 2014 by Kensington Books Publishing, and in Spanish in the U.S. and Mexico by Penguin Random House. Both novels have also been optioned recently for film and television.

Anjanette has an MFA in Creative Writing from Florida International University and was admitted as a contributor to the prestigious Bread Loaf Writing Conference in 2013 and in the upcoming 2014 session. She teaches writing at the Miami International Book Fair’s Florida Literacy Arts Center and lives in Miami with her husband Daniel and her mini dachshund Chloe. She is a native of Puerto Rico, has two daughters, and drinks a café con leche made with almond coconut milk every morning at precisely 7:45 a.m. You can learn more or connect with Anja via this site:

The Clairvoyant of Calle Ocho by Anjanette Delgado
General, Women's Fiction 
Released on August 26, 2014 



The Bishop by Patricia G. Pope

Bishop Sullivan B. Kirk, a charismatic and wildly popular church leader, is challenged beyond the comfort zone of his well-ordered and successful lifestyle when two young boys, a vengeful father, and the transparency of truth all converge to bring Babylon to his doorstep.

After years of successfully providing educational and recreational programs for numerous underprivileged pre-teen and teenage boys, the secrets, lies and deceptions that Bishop Sullivan B. Kirk has worked hard to shield from everyone, is now about to destroy his well-ordered and successful lifestyle; and, possibly, land him in jail. Two of his most trusted young followers, now of the age of consent, have come forth to announce that they have been sexually abused by Bishop Kirk since they were young boys in the Bishop’s care. And they have hired one of the city’s most formidable attorneys to sue the Bishop for a huge amount of punitive and financial damages.

Jabazz Williams, a senior youth leader and paid employee of Bishop Kirk’s Walking in Faith Church, and Antwan Graham, his best friend, have recently been cast aside by the Bishop in favor of younger boys. They can’t get the Bishop to return their phone calls; he refuses to have anything more to do with them, and they are angry. Together, they agree that it is time to “bring the Bishop down.” After all, they have been with the Bishop since they were five or six years old; and they know what the Bishop has been up to, then and now. Lately, they have come to see the Bishop for who and what he really is---a pedophile.

Charismatic and popular, Bishop Kirk is head of one of Atlanta’s largest and most successful Black churches; and he is not about to allow his young accusers to bring down his empire and ruin his name and reputation. But what the Bishop does not know is that others are beginning to suspect the same truth about him; including Josh Crenshaw, owner of Titan Arms Security, the firm that provides personal bodyguard and protective services to the Bishop. Josh’s best friend and business partner, Devon Spencer, is even more committed to blowing the whistle on the Bishop, even if it means the potential loss of the services contract with the Bishop; or of jeopardizing his relationship with Josh.

For nearly ten years, Josh Crenshaw has quietly managed to look the other way in order to maintain his lucrative contractual obligations as head of security, as well as his loyalty to the Bishop. But, lately, sparked by his fiancée Wendy’s concerns about the rumors swirling around the Bishop’s activities with young boys, Josh is becoming increasingly concerned that what he knows might place his personal integrity at risk; not to mention the possible legal ramifications that could ensue.

Devon Spencer, on the other hand, possesses no conflicts about his willingness to see justice done by blowing the whistle on Bishop Kirk. So he offers his support to Jabazz and Antwan, and the stage is set for a confrontation that threatens to involve the entire Black community of Atlanta. Along with Darryl Sawyer, another former favorite of the Bishop, the four of them present their case to Attorney Judy Goldberg, and the stage is set for a potentially dirty and vehement confrontation.

Once the matter is settled, Jabazz’ estranged father, consumed with guilt for abandoning Jabazz and his mother when his son was a baby, vows to avenge his son’s treatment at the hands of the Bishop; plotting to take matters into his own hands. In his drug-induced state, he sets out to confront the Bishop, in what may prove to be a lethal and inevitable climax. 

Excerpt from THE BISHOP by Patricia Pope

Wendy one of the female characters in the novel has come to a crossroad in her life where she has run out of options!

She promised Jesus and all the saints that if she could survive this deadly sin, she would turn her life around forever. She promised that she would make a choice and stand by that choice under all circumstances. That choice would be God. She needed just one more chance. A chance to stand.

The fourth week of fasting from drugs, food and praying, she opened her email and the results of her HIV test stated: negative. One other line warning her to be tested again in six months seemed irreverent but she understood to be necessary. She sensed the tender voice of Jesus as she had not experienced before and a realization that held her steadfast.

The Holy Spirit touches the heart and the mind, the spirit and the soul of those called. No man, no demon or any form of command can change that or control God's will. Falling to her knees for a second time, she thanked him for replacing her fear with faith. She went into drug rehab that afternoon. Because it was her third trip to rehab, she was placed on the outer perimeter somewhere near London's mountain range in a therapeutic community. 

( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of Dwan Abrams on behalf of Patricia Pope, the author. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. 

Purchase from Smashwords 

DISCLAIMER: This book is based on some true events, however, has been fictionalized and all persons appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Meet the Author

Patricia G. Pope is an award-winning author, featured speaker, and celebrated freelance journalist.

A sought after speaker, Patricia was referred to as a “younger Maya Angelou,” during a book signing and a CBS affiliated filming in Harrisburg, PA. She responded by stating “Having my name in the same sentence with Maya Angelou is all-inspiring. Maya Angelou is of royalty in the literary world and the world of humanity.”

Patricia is the holder of many awards and medals with a degree in Drug Management and Supervision. She studied drama in Los Angeles, CA including a two year stint with Jed Horner at Screens Gems. She is a retired Federal employee and is noteworthy as the first black, female, minority to be promoted within the ranks of the Public Safety Service. She views writing as her “go to” stress reliever.

“Colored Waiting Room”, which deals with the conflict of a Black female entangled with the good ole boy system in rural East Tennessee, is an award wining novel and has received rave reviews. A second novel, “The Bishop”, recently released, examines misconduct and misconceptions within the wall of modern day churches. Both novels have been optioned for major movies with “Colored Waiting Room” currently in development.

Awards: Mary Walker Foundations Image Award, Forensic Award, Black History Month Honoree, Bessie Smith Foundation Honoree, Operation Push Honoree, Honoree of Positive Minds Book Club, Honoree of Friends of Black Children.

Patricia G. Pope Contact Info  



For the Sake of Love by Dwan Abrams 

Spade Spencer’s life seems to be coming together. He’s engaged to be married to the love of his life, Bria Murray, and he’s an up and coming rapper who recently signed a major record deal. When Spade gets diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, rather than lean on his fiancée for strength, he calls off the wedding, leaving Bria feeling alone and rejected. 

In an effort to move on with her life, Bria pours her energy into running her new company, The Spa Factory. Kerryngton Kruse, CEO of the record label that signed Spade, begins to pursue Bria romantically. Bria finally allows herself to develop feelings for Kerryngton, only to discover that Spade has different plans. Caught in the middle of a love triangle, Bria must make the difficult decision between love and money. Does she follow her heart and marry the one she can’t live without, or does she marry for security, in hopes that love will eventually follow? 

Excerpt: For the Sake of Love by Dwan Abrams 

When they returned, Chance had freshened up and changed clothes. They were right on-time for one of Chance’s corny jokes.

“Knock, knock,” Chance said.

“Who’s there?” Nya and Kola said in unison.


“Doris who?” They continued to indulge him.

“Doris locked; that’s why I’m knocking.”

As lame as Bria thought that was, Chance’s joke actually got a chuckle out of her. 

“Ready to grub?” Chance asked.

“Yeah,” Bria answered, patting Chance’s oversized belly. “I can see that you’ve been doing a little bit too much grubbin’.”

“As long as my pookie butt likes it, it’s all good.” He gave Nya a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Negro, please. Your plump behind better go to the gym before you run, I mean walk, around here looking as fat and bloated as the Goodyear Blimp,” Bria said.

“Are you going to let her talk to me like that?” he said to Nya. He turned his face up and stared at her.

“Just call me Switzerland. I’m neutral,” she said.

“That’s right thickalicious.” She acted like he was the Pillsbury Doughboy and poked his belly with her finger. “Now what?”

“Why don’t you take the Tyson approach and bite me?”

“Too much grease and blubber is bad for my cholesterol. “I’ll have to pass on biting you today. Thank you just the same.”

“Kids, kids, please,” Nya interjected.

Kola and Spade were busy cracking up laughing.

“Let’s eat,” Nya said.

They went in the kitchen and fixed their plates. The food smelled delectable. They said grace and then ate until they got the ‘itis.’ The food was so good that the only sounds being made were chewing and finger licking.

When Chance finished eating, he said, “Now I got the black people syndrome.” He rubbed his stomach.

They laughed and Spade added, “I feel ya.”

“Anybody want dessert?” Nya offered while clearing the table. She and Bria usually ate a scoop of vanilla ice cream after dinner.

“Not right now,” Chance said.

“None for me,” Spade echoed that sentiment.

“What cha got?” Kola asked.

“Ice cream or cake?” Nya told her.

“I’ll take a slice of cake, but I can get it.” She pushed her chair back and got up. The ladies went in the kitchen and fixed their desserts. They returned to the table already eating their sweet treats.

“I don’t know how you all have the room,” Chance said. “I feel like a stuffed pig.”

“And you look like one too.” Bria couldn’t resist. She burst out laughing. In between laughs she managed to say, “I’m just kidding.” Bria realized that in the presence of a stranger her teasing may seem a bit harsh, but that’s just how she and Chance have always interacted. Chance mean mugged her.

“You’ll get used to these two,” Nya said to Kola. “They act like real brother and sister.”

( Continued... )

© 2014 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, Dwan Abrams. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. 


Barnes & Noble 



Locked in Purgatory 
by Nakia R. Laushaul

A wise man leads his family by example.

AFTER TEN LONG YEARS LEFT TO ROT IN A NURSING HOME, LUTHER BENNETT is plum sick of this life. Paralyzed from the waist down after suffering a series of strokes, the man who once held power, wealth and prestige in the palm of his hands, now has nothing at all unless you can count his disturbing memory bank of dreams from his past. Luther’s son, SAMUEL BENNETT, heir to the misfortune of his father’s wealth has grown weary of slipping into Luther’s shoes and desperately desires an identity all his own. Trapped in a relationship that doesn’t exist and a mounting mistrust of all men, Luther’s only daughter, LYNNE BENNETT just can’t seem to find the love and validation that should have come from her father.

As their lives begin to unravel, the Bennett family must finally make a decision. Live the way they’ve always lived—rooted in secrets, denial and festering anger or change. Can Luther, a mere shell of his former self, save his shattered family from the devastating purgatory he’s created?


There will come a time when wealth means absolutely nothing. And then what? Meet Luther.


“Come on, baby, be nice for a couple of hours,” I said, entering our master bedroom. I had planned to reason with her one last time before I left her at home—alone with her attitude for company. I wasn’t up for another one of Marian’s hateful moods. She yanked the closet door open and shuffled hangers around noisily.

“If this was Woody, would you want me to miss his graduation?” I already knew that the answer was a firm, no. It had always been clear that Marian cared very little for my other two children. “You have five minutes and I’m leaving.” I swallowed my drink.

Marian knew what she was doing when she put that skirt on. It was her way of upstaging Sylvia, who was very modest. I didn’t feel like a woman war that night. It was all about Samuel. I wanted my wife and my other son, Woody, there, but I wasn’t going to fight. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips together. The silent treatment again. I walked into the bathroom, washed my face, and gargled with a little mouthwash to rinse the bitter taste of bourbon out of my mouth.

“I’m sorry for getting mad, honey. You’re right.” Marian had walked up behind me and wrapped her hands around my waist from the back. She rested her head between my shoulder blades. “It’s just that I love this skirt and never get to wear it,” she said, whining.

“Get the camera and I’ll take a picture of you wearing it to remember how good you look in it,” I said jokingly. “But you still have to change or I’m leaving you behind.

“Okay.” Marian went back into the bedroom and I was so glad that she had agreed to change. A few moments later, she called out to me, “Come on, honey. I’m ready for my close-up.”



My father stopped and turned around slowly.

“What is this?” My mother barely whispered, tears still pouring down her face.

“I’m sorry, Sylvia. I was going to tell you. I—I. . .” He held up his one free hand in a gesture of apology. “Samuel? Samuel.”

“Yes, sir?” I jumped to attention. It was the first time since I had been home that I had been acknowledged. As I walked toward him, half of me hated my father and felt guilty for it. The other half of me didn’t and loved him unconditionally. Either way, I still had to speak to him with a respect that I didn’t feel. I folded up the acceptance letter and put it in my back pocket.

“Come and get your mama. I’m going to need you to be the man of the house for a little while. Take care of your sister too. I’ll be back to check on you.” He didn’t wait for a response. He didn’t address my mother any further. He walked out the door and closed it behind him.

My mother used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe her face, leaving brown and black smudges on it. Then she closed her eyes, fanned her face with her hands, and let out a long sigh. And as if nothing had happened, she asked, “What’d the letter say?”

“Huh? What letter?” I asked, confused.

She didn’t say anything more, but waited until I caught on to what she was referring to.

“Oh, it said I got accepted,” I said dryly. Although I was excited, it just didn’t seem right to celebrate getting accepted to Texas A&M when my father had just walked out the door, most likely for good now that he’d gone off and married Marian.

“Well, that’s good for you, son. I guess you’re gonna be an Aggie man just like your daddy.” She tried to smile. “That’s really good news, honey.”





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