Archive | June 2013

An Excerpt of Finding You…When Love Called

orange finding you

Chapter 7  Taming of a Diva (Lisa)

Lisa ran behind the moving men, directing where to place her furniture. “Hey! Watch how you lower that glass top!” she exclaimed as she nearly ran to the dining room. The movers were lowering the glass top to the base just as she entered the house. The top was extremely heavy and that alone would make it cost a fortune to replace, she continued grumbling. Eric could hear her from a connecting room and he began rolling his shoulders, in an effort to relieve some of the tension that was quickly building. “Yes, Ms. Grant,” said one of the men, thinking his response would soften the woman. But one look at her face and Eric knew instantly that they were in for a rough day on this job. Looking around at the sprawling two story Spanish accented home, it was huge and the layout alone could present its own unique challenges. However, he had no doubts about his crew. They were the epitome of professional; he knew it because whatever skills they didn’t have when they started, he equipped them with through many hours of training.

Mistakes did happen, of course, but that was why he had insurance. So what bothered him the most about this job, despite the quality of the things in place, was the petite little barracuda running around behind them, spouting words like, authentic, priceless, original and heirloom. What really irked him was the fact she hadn’t credited any of them with knowing the difference between what was “authentic” and as far as he could tell, everything, while expensive, was merely a reproduction. It was almost like she had spent an afternoon in a Bombay store. In fact, everything about this move seemed to have a rushed feel to it, starting with the fact that she’d only called three days before, but what business was it of his? He had encountered women like this one before—the Diva’s, he called them. He realized there was the professional that acquired new money and then immediately surrounded themselves with status symbols. Things that were purely to signify to other people they had it because they could, decisions like that rarely made people happy or if so, only in a transient way. He didn’t have anything against having nice things. He had a beautiful home himself. It was the place in people’s lives that things seemed to occupy, that was the problem. Instantly, he chided himself. Maybe if he hadn’t lost the most precious things in life to him, he may not feel too differently from the type of people he was now condemning. He sighed, and wished that he still had his precious gems and that he never knew what it was to have lost them. Suddenly, he could hear her sandals clicking on the tile. He tried to duck inside the library. But it was as if she had a heat seeking missile, the way she seemed to walk directly to where he was. He had turned to face the wall extended bookshelf.

“Hey! Are you sure you all are professionals? I have to tell you, I am a little concerned with the way they are placing my furniture. Do you realize those are Golden Cinema stone and granite tile floors? I’m afraid they are going to scratch the floors any minute.” Eric took time to inhale deeply, before responding. The truth was, he had been battling a migraine headache for the past hour, the exact moment that she’d had gotten on his last nerve.

“Ms. Grant, I assure you that my crew are well trained professionals. Since we are still speaking of something that hasn’t happened yet, I want to encourage you to think positively. Perhaps you could . . .use a few minutes to grab a cup of coffee or tea?” He knew the moment the last word left his mouth, it was the worst possible suggestion he could have made. The expression on her face told it all.

“If I came in here to ask your advice on how and when I should take a break, I could understand the reason behind a statement like that. However, the only expertise—and I use that statement loosely, that I hired you for is to make sure this move is smoothly, and expeditiously completed. That’s the only advice that you should be espousing and not to me—to them!” she said, while pointing out toward the hall to no one and yet everyone in particular.

“Yes ma’am,”” he managed to bite out, under a poorly composed guise of meekness. She promptly spun around on her heels, her glossy curls flowing behind her as she immediately began to light in to the first person she must have encountered.

He could hear her from where he stood, yelling at the top of her voice, “Listen, I worked hard for everything I have. I refuse to have them destroyed in a move!” Then lower but considerably audible, she added, “I knew I should have hired white people!”

That statement instantly cut Eric to the quick. He worked hard, and was always professional and insisted that his team do the same. The customer was always right. That was his motto. Doing their jobs well along with excellent customer service had done a lot to expand his business. Yet the statement that she made had always bothered him, when thrown from the mouths of fellow black people. It was as if the expectation of greatness couldn’t be expected among his own culture and he wanted to be among the many that discredited that far too prevalent attitude.

So before he thought better of it, he was walking toward her. “Uh, excuse me, Ms. Grant? May I speak with you for a moment?” Everyone within earshot immediately scurried. They probably knew she had finally reached their boss’s limit.

She turned and for the first time actually found herself noticing the face of the man that she’d been reprimanding almost since they’d arrived. She was taken a bit off guard as she felt pulled along into the gaze of the clearest brown eyes she’d ever seen. As her eyes flitted over his face, she could tell that he was way past irritated. For the first time in a long while, she felt just a bit intimidated. It kind of threw her momentarily, “Yes–Mr.? What is your name?”

“My name is Eric—just plain Eric. Now Ms. Grant, I can understand that you want the best service possible. However, you have to remember that moving is what we do. We understand that it involves more than simply transferring furniture from one place to another. We realize it’s more about moving the things that reflect your memories, it reflects the things that make your place a home. Yet despite the care we may take, things happen, unfortunately, that’s what insurance is for. At the end of the day, we want to please you. We want each bit of furniture exactly where you would like; therefore, your direction is expected.

“However, I will not tolerate you berating my employees or our race—that, is where I draw the line and if you insist on spouting phrases like the one you just made, where you expressed your racial preference as your choice of superiority when selecting a moving company, you will get your wish. Because the truth of the matter is, you chose this company, not because of the race, but because of how we managed to place you within our schedule before the end of the week and because of the rate we charge. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will get back to making sure your move is smoothly and expeditiously carried out—since it clearly is the only subject I should claim to have any expertise of.

Then he abruptly walked away before he did any more damage. He was immediately regretful. He had never lost his temper with a customer before. The bad part was that he was going to have to apologize before they left her premises that day. In fact, he was probably going to have to send her a gift basket to appease her. Word of mouth was an essential part of advertisement.

Lisa continued to stand before him as she digested the words form this man, said gently in a level, yet forceful tone. She searched for words to respond. She sought to put this man—this blue-collar worker—in his place. The nerve of him, to speak to her as he had. But even if she could bring words to mind, they would be too late. She was suddenly facing his back as he walked away from her to rejoin his team while they arranged the last of her dining room.

“Uh. . .Eric, before you leave I’d like the name of your supervisor.” She had no intention of calling, but the phrase usually struck fear, at least momentarily, in most people. She watched as the toned broad back slowly turned to her.

“Sure thing, Ms. Grant. Did you have a complaint you’d like to leave with the supervisor or owner, as it were?”

“Yes, I certainly would. Please write his name and telephone number here.” She said as she thrust a pad and pen that she’d grabbed off the ledge of the half wall that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

It took him less than a second to cross to her and gently take the pad and scribble before returning it to her. Inside he chuckled as he awaited a final response, but from the corner of his eye he noticed she, without even so much as glancing at the pad, simply placed it back on the counter where it had been.

She seemed to get absorbed in unpacking a box of pictures and assortment of decorative items—the things that really made a house a home. Now that she was quiet he could, for the first time, see how truly attractive that she was. He noticed that her hair had been roller set, the way his sister tended to get hers done, and it was cute the way it seemed to swing at the slightest movement of her head. It shimmered with a soft sheen that made it look black, but at that moment, a ray of sun danced onto one of the curls, and he could see the subtle shades of brown that highlighted throughout. It lay against the soft pecan brown of her cheekbones, which held the most exotic shaped eyes that when they weren’t flashing anger, were quite beautiful. As she stood up from bending over a box of pictures, he noticed how she leaned all the way back and then placed both her hands into the small of her back.

He thought how odd that she did that. It was almost like…well, like she was pregnant. Then all of a sudden she seemed to wobble. As quick as Eric began moving, it still wasn’t fast enough to catch her before she crumpled to the floor, although it all seemed to happen in slow motion.

“Someone call 911,” he heard himself yelling as he lifted her head up and placed it into his lap. He began checking to make sure she was breathing and then checked her pulse points. Her pulse seemed quite rapid; her breathing seemed just a bit shallow or was it merely his imagination. He chided himself to be cautious, not to jump to a diagnosis since he wasn’t a doctor. He hadn’t even realized how he seemed to be holding his own breath until he breathed a sigh of relief upon her regaining consciousness. While it had only been a few minutes, it seemed so very much longer. Her lids began to flutter and she found herself staring up into brown eyes—those brown eyes. He watched, as the confusion seemed to settle across her face. Before she could panic or become angry, which in the short time that he’d made her acquaintance, he knew could very easily go either way—he thought he would calm her by attempting to explain.

“Ms. Grant, you fainted, and have been out for a couple of minutes. The EMT’s have been called and should be here shortly. As she attempted to rise, he gently but firmly held her in place. “Perhaps you should remain completely still until they arrive, particularly in your condition,” he added. Surprise lit up her face and she opened her mouth as if to speak just as the EMT’s were moving toward her.

“I feel much better. I actually don’t think it’s necessary to go to the hospital,” she said, while she was being examined.

“Are you sure you want to take that chance? Eric found himself asking. He surprised himself actually—he had learned from experience to not get involved and the fact that he had imposed himself into her life twice already, was completely out of character. Yet he knew that she was stubborn enough to ignore clear signs that she should be taking seriously.

He ignored the nagging pull of memories that he spent years burying. Somehow, this dragon of a woman had struck a chord with him. Maybe because he sensed that beneath all the huff was a very vulnerable person. However, she was full of surprises that day. He would have bet money and lost before he would have given her the benefit of the doubt in agreeing and yet she did.

“You are right. I should go.” She said it so softly that he nearly missed it and the softness that came over her face seemed in some ways, a look of resignation, although the first word that came to mind was defeat and that nearly made him chuckle out loud. “Is there anyone that I should call for you?” he offered after they had lifted her onto the gurney.

“No!” Then catching herself, she added, “No, I have no one to call, but thanks for offering. Especially after I wasn’t particularly kind. . . ”

Before he could respond, she simply fell unconscious again. Everything moved quickly after that, while they began moving her toward the ambulance and continued to monitor her vitals. After they took off for the hospital, Eric turned and directed his guys to move the last of her things within the house. Fortunately, he was able to find her house keys.

“Boss, we can continue putting her furniture in place if you like.” His brother and assistant manager, Ted said, as they stood by his side.

“Do what you can,” he said absently while continuing to stare into space. “I’m going to lock up the house and then take her the keys. We don’t need a liability on our hands.” He answered shaking himself back into reality.

Ted looked at him knowingly, but held his thoughts to himself. He could see already that somehow this woman had gotten under his brother’s skin. Yet another person he probably was going to try to save. He sighed, but then again it had been years since he tried to save anyone—even cared enough to. He just wished someone would care as much for him.

“Alright, T. Call me when you get home.”

“Alright man!”

“Tell the other guys we will regroup on our schedule for next week.”

“I’m just glad that the big man was here today. I’d hate to think what would have happened had the boss man not been here.”

“You would have done the same thing, I’m sure.”

Great Reviews for In Search of a Healing Place!

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I am so appreciative of all the reviews that I’ve gotten so far for In Search of a Healing Place.  I appreciate all feedback–even if you don’t like it!  Thank you so much and I hope to continue to write what touches people’s hearts.  Please don’t hesitate to post a review for my books and if the word ‘review’ scares you, a blurb is just fine!  Thanks a bunch!

Here are some that I’ve gotten so far:

Wow!  At first when I read the introduction, I thought another rape book. But I got an eye opening on allowing God into your life and how healing can happen. Before I read this book I could not imagine forgiving someone for committing crime of that nature. Cherise example of forgiveness as being part of the healing progress can be utilized with any problems. Ty came off with just enough arrogant  after getting out of jail to keep you wondering if he would remember the counseling he received and the constant reading of the Bible to learn about a God he didn’t know. Jon story caused the most compassion in the book. Being a twin, cleaning up messes, and nurturing his fragile relationship with his wife showed the depth that a man would go through for the love of his woman. A story well written. I wish I had read the first book before I read this one. An excellent read.

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Straight up, Tyrone was a mess. He was arrogant, snide, and rude and had no problem taking what clearly was not his. At least that was the old Tyrone.  The Tyrone in this story has taken advantage of the opportunity to grow and mature while in prison. Yet there are still those closest to him that do not fully believe that he is redeemed because of all of the drama and havoc that he created. It is time for Tyrone to talk the talk and walk the walk, but can he? Can a man that has been so careless with his own life, reconcile his past and move forward?? Read it the book and find out. Excellent read.

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The second chance Diva is back with book 3 in the Redemptive Series and I don’t hate Tyrone anymore. How she did it? Enter this journey of self evaluation, self forgiveness and self deserving. Nikki Walker weave a tale of fragile binds and uses faith, love and trust to strength them. After reading parts I and II can you forgive like Cherise? Trust like Farryn or change like Tyrone. These books makes you question your faith, your ability to forgive and understanding and embracing your self worth. This is the best book in the series!

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I liked this book its good to see Tyrone get his act together and find happiness . Diamond stole the show here character bounced off the pages made me want to hold her an get one of her kisses. If you are looking for a sweet love story this is the one for you.

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In Search of A Healing Place brings healing to Jonathan, Cherise and Tyrone.  Jonathan and Tyrone are twins.  onayhan has been the “clean -up guy” after Tyrone rapes and impregnates a  young, innocent student,  Cherise.  Jon marries Cherise and Tyrone serves jail time.  Ms. Walker has written a beautiful story of forgiveness, love and healing.  I need more stories like this.  🙂

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I have read the Redemption Series by this author and I think this is close to being my favorite book in the series.  The author shows how one man, Tyrone Wheeler is forced to come to terms with the mistakes he made including serving jail time for the rape of his now sister in law, Cherise. When Tyrone re-enters the world, he has to make adjustments as life as he knew it has changed.  No longer is everything served on a silver platter for him.  He is living in an apartment with hardly any of the bare essentials.  He no longer has the high powered position in his family’s company.  He has been demoted to mailroom supervisor.  Tyrone has come to terms with his wrongdoing but will he be forgiven by his family?  Will Cherise allow him to see the little girl that was conceived from the rape?

If you have read this Redemption Series, you will find you are able to relate to one character or another.  It causes us to look within ourselves and make decisions that we might not have normally made.  Are you ever able to forgive the wrongdoer?  One click and see how you will feel if you were Cherise, Jon or Tyrone.

**** I was a beta reader for this book ****

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I’ve read all of the books in this series and while I enjoyed them all, this one is my favorite. This book continues the story of twin brothers Jonathan and Tyrone, sons of wealthy hotel owner, Blake Wheeler. While Jon turned out to be mature and responsible in spite of their privileged upbringing, Tyrone took full advantage of his good looks and access to the Wheeler fortune to become a womanizer and ultimately rapes and impregnates Cherise, a shy college-aged girl. While trying to figure out what to do, Cherise meets and marries Jon, who always seems to step in to fix his twin’s issues. Once the baby is born, they all begin to see how Tyrone’s selfish act has affected the entire family–and they are all in need of healing. I highly recommend this book as it has situations and circumstances that everyone can relate to. Author Nikki Walker handled the many twists and turns in the story masterfully. I guarantee you will find yourself in at least one of these well-crafted characters and maybe even find your own healing place.

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thCAPDKV5A   An Excerpt:

Cherise awakened as the sun rays danced across her face.  She stretched and reached across to Jon’s side of the bed, but realized quickly she was alone.  Maybe she knew that before she opened her eyes.  Still, her mind replayed the love play that had gone on between them until the early hours of the morning.  For the first time, she felt that Jonathan had held nothing back.  She smiled as she thought of the way he’d held her, loved her, kissed her passionately with a need they both had between them.  A need she had been aware of somewhere deep down within her inner depths.  She had cried when they finally collapsed against the sheets.  She dragged her hands against her mouth and smiled even as tears slid down her face.

She hadn’t known it could feel that way—that anything could feel that way.  Never had she felt so loved and cherished.  She turned over, grabbed his pillow, and pulled it close inhaling his scent.  The ache within her opened and she sobbed.  She missed him.  She wanted to awaken in his arms this morning and instead he was gone.  She couldn’t help wondering if the impasse that had been bridged the night before was only temporary.  Throwing the covers back, she dragged herself upright.  She felt love drugged.  She moved into her bathroom and took the time to draw a hot bath.  She poured her oils into the water and as she sat on the side of the tub, she inhaled the fragrant water.  She regretted that it was about to quickly cover the scent that they’d created together.  With a sigh, she slipped into the water and let her head loll back on the bath pillow.

Suddenly her head snapped up.  She looked into the dark eyes of her husband.  Their gaze remained connected, neither of them saying a word.

He had a mug in his hand that he slowly placed on the lip of the tub.  He smiled.  “Good morning, my love.”  He leaned down and kissed her softly on her lips.  “How are you?”

She smiled and then felt the tears slide unbidden down her face.   He knelt down and moved closer to her pulling her against him.  “What’s wrong babe?”

“I-I thought you’d left without saying good-bye,” she whispered before sobbing against his shoulder.

“No.  Oh no, sweetheart.  No, I could never do that after…I could never, sweetie.  I love you so much.  Do you hear me?”

Cherise nodded, feeling silly.  Of course he loved her.  He stood by her didn’t he? He took her in against his own brother’s actions, right?

He pulled back from her and began to undress swiftly before he slid into the tub pulling her onto him.  “I know we’ve been through… something, but I love you, babe.  I will never stop loving you.  You should know that.  Look at me.  Don’t you know that?”

She wanted to tell him— she did.  She wished that she could say that she was sure beyond anything in life, but the truth was there was this whisper of doubt that seemed to permeate her very being.  It colored things and it made her feel like she was losing him even when he was in front of her.  She didn’t say any of this, though.  She was too afraid of ruining this moment, so she merely nodded her head and lifted the corners of her mouth into what she hoped was a sexy moue, before she leaned forward and kissed him.  She pulled back, and looked into his eyes and was happy to see that she’d pleased him.  She liked that.  She wound her arms around his neck and let him take the lead in the dance to which she was quickly growing adept.

The Ones We Leave Behind

Check out Nia Forrester’s, The Ones We Leave Behind!

Woman-Centered Fiction for Today's Woman of Color

alone-beautiful-black-and-white-girl-lonely-Favim.com-356698Last night, I was inspired by two posts made in a shared Facebook writers’ space that I’m a member of (the Writers Review and Support Resource Group), I decided to go digging for some of my old work that I’ve never published. I found lots of pieces that will–justifiably–never see the light of day, a few that might be worth sharing with some polishing, and some that I’m not quite sure why I left them behind.

The thing of it is, writers have dozens of voices in their heads almost all the time. Characters whose voices you can hear as clearly as though they stand next to you whispering in your ear. But you have to be selective. Some you listen to, others you leave behind. Not because their voices aren’t valuable and poignant and full of promise, but because there are, after all, only so many hours in…

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Excerpt from, Life Unraveled…Diary of an ordinary Bi-Polar Chick

Life Unraveled... Diary of an ordinary Bi-Polar Chick Cover1

Subject: Worried
Hi Ryan,I know you have been busy. You told me your new venture would take a lot of your time. I tried to call your phone, but I only get your voice mail.I miss you, please reach out to me, it will set my mind at ease to know that you are okay.Love Rida

Chapter 2.  (9 Mos. ago)            White Knight to the Rescue

His name was Ryan Phillips. She’d met him at a gas station on a day that she discovered she’d left her wallet at home.  She had been enroute to a job interview only to discover her tank was on empty.  She pulled into the first gas station she’d come upon and that’s when she’d realized her error.  The day hadn’t been good from the beginning.  In fact, when she awoke that morning, she had been overwhelmed with the desire to remain under her covers.  Her heart wasn’t into the “sell pitch” needed to interview.  She didn’t feel competent, she didn’t feel confident, she didn’t feel any of the qualities that was going to be required for her to convince the hiring manager.

But she was nearing the limit of the unemployment she had been drawing since being displaced from her previous job.  She had two months to find the replacement and out of the hundreds of applications she had submitted, this was the first to extend an interview.  Glancing at her watch, she was appreciative of the fact that she’d given herself an extra hour to find the business park.  She looked over toward the convenience store.  Sighing inwardly, she pulled herself out of the car and while biting her lower lip walked toward it, .  Once inside she walked toward the man that was behind the counter.  So far there seemed to be only one other customer in the store, and she was in front of  her.  Good, she thought.  It would be doubly embarrassing to have to explain this dilemma in front of someone else.

Just as the woman finished her transaction and headed toward the door, she said a silent prayer and started to plead her case, when a man came up behind her.  She’d already started her sentence so she had no choice but to continue.  She could tell halfway through her story that the man behind the register was not going to extend her the credit.  Even the offer of leaving her driver’s license didn’t budge him toward her in the least.  So she thanked him and walked out the door wondering what to do next.  All her friends were at work; she glanced at her watch again and opened her car door preparing to get back in when she heard someone call out to her.

She turned and watched as a man approached her.  It was the one that had entered after she had. He was nicely dressed so she knew he wasn’t going to beg her for anything.  Still she kept her guard up, she’d recently heard on the news about a few women being absconded from gas stations.  She smiled as he approached with her hand resting against the top of her opened car door.

But he stopped at a distance that respected her. “Hi Miss, I was behind you in the store so I couldn’t help hearing about your dilemma.  I paid for you to get thirty dollars’ worth of gas.  I could not believe that the man wasn’t more empathetic toward your situation. I just can’t make sense of people these days.  Anyway, I hope your interview is successful.”

She was struck dumb with surprise.  Finally she gushed, “I simply can’t thank you enough for your help.  Could I please arrange to meet you back here tomorrow to return your…?”  She could see him shaking his head no before she finished her statement.  “I can’t tell you how thankful I am to you,” she said while reaching into her wallet.  Pulling out a business card left over from when she did her custom gift basket gig, she gave it to him .

“Here is some contact information; it would make me feel better if I have the opportunity to repay you.”  She said as she handed the card to him.

He looked at it. . . “From Your Heart To Mine, by Sherida, that’s a nice name.  Well why don’t you climb in your car and let me pump the gas for you?”

As she began to protest, he held up his hand gesturing for her to stop.  Between that and the look on his face, she could see he was a very decisive man that brooked no arguments or waste of time, so she instantly paused thanked him and after wishing him a good day, slid into the car.  This day might actually be a good one after all, she thought to herself.  They waved to one another as he walked to his car.  She started her car and pulled off.

That one moment in her day was like an infusion of positive energy that made her perception of the day turn completely around.  She was sure that it is what put her at peace.   As a result, her interview went through smoothly.  She would know by the end of the day if she got the job or not.  Smiling to herself while she waited at a light she reflected on the stunning smile of the guy that rescued her.  He had eyes the color of Cognac . . .it was only when he came closer that she was aware of flecks of green that added to their intensity. Dressed in a suit, that she had no  doubt was tailor-made, told her that at the very least he worked in an office.  Authority seemed to exude from him, it was clear to her that he was at some level of management.  All of this she assessed in the few minutes of their interchange.  She had worked in a corporate environment all of her working career.  During that length of time, it had seemed like she had come across every type of personality.  She knew quality when she saw it and especially when she was responsible for ordering and putting it in order for many of the executives she had assisted.

Entering her home, she could see the light blinking on her message machine.  She got excited when the message indicated that she call the manager she’d interviewed with.   After the conversation, her heart leapt with joy.  She was to start the following week.  That gave her the weekend to get things organized.  A dismal feeling settled over her upon entering her bedroom as she looked from one stack of clothes to the other, each stack graciously held by her two wing chairs. Nothing to do but get started she sighed.

Sherida’s cell phone rang.  Her eyebrows raised in question.  “Hello?”

“Hi have I reached Sherida?”

“This is Sherida?”

“Hi Sherida.  This is Ryan.  We met at the gas station earlier today. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Sherida smiled. “Thanks so much for calling.  I managed to get home fine.  Actually, I just got off of the phone.  I got the job!”

“Wow! That’s great Sherida.  I’m really happy for you.  I hope I’m not keeping you from getting ready for your date.”

Sherida blinked in confusion.  “My date?”

“Yeah, I figured your husband is preparing to take you out to celebrate your new job.”

“Uh no,” she laughed.  “I’m not married.”

“I see. Did you have any plans for this evening?”

She sat down on the side of her bed and pulled her hair back behind her ear.  “No I was just about to do some cleaning.”

“Aw I can’t let you spend your evening like that.  Why don’t you let me take you out?”

Sherida hesitated.  She  didn’t know anything about this man.  She only knew that he was kind enough to fill her car up with gas so that she could make her interview.  Was that enough indication of his character?  One thing she did know, she wanted to go more than anything.

“I can meet you at the Olive Garden on Midlothian Turnpike.  How about that?”

She knew he was giving her a reason to feel safe by saying that.  She sighed.  It was enough.

“Okay, you persuaded me. You can pick me up. You have a pen? I’ll give you my address.”

“It’s six now.  How about eight?”

“Eight is fine.  See you there Ryan.”

She disconnected and felt a flurry of excitement rush through her.  She jumped up and walked toward her closet.  What would she wear?  She pulled out a black crepe wrap dress.  She loved the way the dress accentuated her small waistline.  She didn’t have a pronounced shape, her hips were slight.  The dress would make her feel attractive but wouldn’t seem too sexy.

She walked in her bathroom and began to fill her tub.  She had enough time to take a luxurious bubble bath.  She pulled her hair into a ponytail on top of her head and eased into the bath.  Her mind skipped back over what she remembered about the kind stranger from this morning.  She remembered he stood a good two inches over her, which made him at least six feet.  As she used the sea sponge to lather the scented soap on her skin, she reflected on the cinnamon brown complected man.  His head was clean-shaven. That seemed to highlight the clear brown eyes fringed by lengthy sable lashes.  He wore the shadow of a lined beard and mustache that accented his lips.

He had on a casual shirt and slacks that hinted of the hard body beneath.  She sighed. She doubted they would remain in contact after tonight, but she would thoroughly enjoy being accompanied by the gorgeous man in the meanwhile.

An hour later, with her heart all a flutter, Sherida pulled the door open and was simply awestruck.  With shirt and slacks he was handsome, in a suit he was jaw dropping.  “H-Hi, won’t you come in?”  She said as she stepped back.

“These are for you.”  He said extending a bouquet of pink roses toward her.

She blinked and her mouth widened in shock before the corners lifted into grin.   “This is so nice Ryan.  Let me put them in water.”  She took them from him and rushed into the kitchen where she laid them on the counter before opening her cabinet to reach for one of her vases she’d collected over the years.

“Let me get that for you.”

She jumped at the sudden proximity of him.  “O-Okay.”  She tried to step out of the apex of her counter space, but he simply reached past her, as if unaware of her hemmed position.

He handed the vase down to her and let his gaze rest on her face.  “I didn’t mention it, but you look very beautiful.”   He lifted his hand to touch  the tendril of hair that had escaped the up-do arrangement of her curls.   “This might be forward,” he said as he moved toward her and reached for her hair comb enclosure. “But I can’t resist doing this…” He said as he unsnapped it and her curls fell in waves down past her shoulders.  He gently smoothed the hair from her face now holding it between his large hands.  “Breathtaking!”

Their gazes fused.  She was speechless.  She ‘d never met anyone like him.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready?”

“To leave.”

“Oh sure.  I just need to grab my wrap.”  She looked at him waiting for him to allow her to pass.  He smiled as she eased past him and they walked toward the coat closet.  She placed her purse beneath her arm while he settled the wrap around her shoulders.  He pulled the door open and she walked past him into the lit hallway of the apartment building.

They walked toward the elevator and her mind wrestled to find companionable conversation.  But when her eyes found his, she would falter.

As she envisioned a long evening of painful silence, she began to have second thoughts.

Just as the elevator chimed, she turned to him.

He smiled, “You know first dates are always challenging.  You can’t imagine how hard it was for me to gather the courage to call you.”

The elevator door opened.  As if it were the most natural thing in the world, his hand slipped to the small of her back, guiding her inside as he continued to catch her up on what transpired in his day before he called her.  Before long, he had her laughing, relaxed as if they were old friends.

They exchanged stories over his steak, baked potato and her…”

Ways to Show “I love you”…

Wonderful thoughts from Aja Graves on ‘Ways to show Love.’
http://ajathewriter.wordpress.com/2013/05/05/ways-to-show-i-love-you/#comment-69

Aja

Black_Love_2
Love is a rather heavy emotion. That feeling that we feel, that we call love, cannot be described….easily, if at all. We try, but ultimately we fail.

The Bible has a pretty simplistic definition in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. It says that , “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

I like this definition even if it’s hard to abide by every day; it gives you something to work toward. But if you pay close enough attention, you’ll see that The Bible doesn’t’ talk about emotions. It talks about the way that Love acts. So I say all of…

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