When Life's Challenges Are Hard to Run From

What Reader's are Saying:

Why Write Companion Novels? Not a series, but mates. Ribbons & Bell and Ismet's Honor Coming June 2016 #romance #reallifehappens #abortion #infertility

After a beta reader told me her feelings on Ribbons and Belle, she expressed the need to know more about the character, Sunny Verde. From that, Ismet's Honor was written. I wanted to explore the feelings of loss and abortion from a male's perspective.

 Ribbons & Belle/Ismet's Honor: 2 novels. Loving the people, they're tossing my emotions like free play at an amusement park.‪#‎amwriting‬ ‪#‎feelingsareexposed‬ ‪#‎reallifehappens‬ ‪#‎infertility‬ ‪#‎abortion‬
Coming: June 2016 Check out the excerpts below.

Gorgeous, dedicated fertility counselor Tyson Ribbons, has admired and loved embryologist, Anabelle “Belle” Lee for along time. When she comes in for counseling he fights everything within him not to deter her from her plans.
Doesn’t stop his heart from wishing it could be him fulfilling her desire.
BLURB:Ribbons & Belle
Anabelle Lee, mourning her inability to have a child of her own-suffered through two miscarriages, a heartbreaking late-term abortion, and a soul crushing divorce. As an embryologist, she has protected the potential life of many frozen specimens, and lived envious of the women choosing In Vitro fertilization as their form of reproduction.
After a bit of encouragement from her best friend, and counseling from the very perfect Dr. Ribbons, Anabelle takes steps to fulfill her desire to become a mother.
Problem is, the announcement brings more of a shock than a gift.

EXCERPT: Ribbon & Belle
“So, go on. Let’s get to the part of your past that has you so upset. Tell me what happened in your life that could possibly make me dislike you?”
“Are you sure you want to hear it?”
“Only because I know talking about it would be a way to help you. Are you sure you want to sit there?" He pointed at the chair. "I can’t cuddle you if you get upset.”
“Yes,” she burned at the memory of the last time he cuddled after she became upset. “I’ll be fine. From here, I can look into your eyes.” And see when the tide turns in your beautiful blue orbs.
“Well, if you sat close to me, on the couch, you could...okay, okay.” Tyson raised his hands in surrender at the quirk of her lip. “I’m sorry. I just want to make you feel comfortable. To take away those wrinkles between your brows. ”
“I know.” She ran her fingers through her hair. The bright red strands became trapped between and around the wings of the ornate butterfly ring she wore. The same way sorrow and memories clung to her heart. With a flick of the wrist, she threw them off. Her gaze moving to the clock on the wall. It was already eleven o’clock and she lived forty-five minutes away. *God, will I be able to drive that long after talking about Fawn?* The soft sound of her breath, like the release of pressure from a balloon, opened the door to the heartbreaking memories and the words escaped, slowly. “I took Wednesday off from work last week. Not because of the flimsy excuse I gave the girls of needing my nails done, but because I knew I wouldn’t have been able to handle the day. Just the anticipation of having to watch or listen to couples a they celebrated the newly acquired news of the imminent arrival of their child, hurt. The way the women almost always burst into tears of joy. The husband, inevitably runs overs, yanks a few tissues from the purposely placed box at the station, rambles the reasons for the tears and goes back for more wet laughter and ginger hugs until the elevator opens and shuts them in to follow their rainbow.
Last Wednesday would've been Fawn’s second birthday” She paused when his hands reached out and wrapped around hers. The warmth, a solace as they rested on her lap. For a moment, she watched herself in his his eyes. Floating in the compassion and sympathy reflected. The tap on her hand, encouraging, she resumed. “Fawn was a beautiful baby. They gave her to me- wrapped in the soft hand crocheted blanket I’d made for her. She was wearing the first dressed I purchased when they told me I was having a daughter. Pale pink with a cocoon and a string of tiny butterflies on the collar. The design traveled down the neck of the dress to to end with a large butterfly applique on her tummy. It said, “I evolved just for you,” and I cried when I saw her in it. All alone and guilty. Guilty because I was the cause of her death.”

BLURB: Ismet’s Honor
Sunny Verdi has always wanted the “good-life.” Husband, home, lot’s of children. After cheering on her best friend and fellow embryologist Belle, through her successful quest for her dream, she wanted those things even more.
Unfortunately, Sunny broke the heart of her fantasy years earlier and it would take m9re than wishful thinking to get him back.
At 17, unable to voice his opinion against an unwanted abortion, Ismet Honorable O’Neal ran from the girl who killed his dream of the perfect life and the white picket fence.
Now he spends him time aiding other men in being the voice in the lives of their children.
Years later, he returns and Sunny is waiting.
She’s going to need more than the love in her eyes to repair the fences.

EXCERPT: Ismet's Honor
“You really gonna let her make you do this? You gonna let her kill our baby?”
“I don’t have a choice. She’s my momma. I’ve only been sixteen two weeks and here I am pregnant with a baby. Met, what can I do with a baby? How can I finish school? Go to college? I can’t be a mom, right now.”
“I thought you loved me. Wanted our baby.”
“I do.”
He felt her put her hands on his shoulder, he shook it off. The contact seeming to burn him with desire and freeze his heart at the same time. This is the person who in one night soared him to the sky with the announcement she was pregnant and then casually tossed him to the pits of hell with the plans for an abortion. She sat in silence as he opened the door of the car and went to sit on its hood. With every step, he wanted to fall apart. There was nothing he could do. Nothing or no one able to help him. It wasn’t possible to make her carry the baby and then give it to him. Sunny was right, they couldn’t go above her mother’s demands.

With a small turn of his head, he glanced in her direction. There she sat, stone-face in the car. He wondered if she even cared. If the whispers of love she’s mouthed for years was just the fantasy of a teenage girl in her first relationship. Did she even care for him? From the corner of his eyes he watched her staring, as if she were unable to move and join him.

The hurt he was feeling, there was no way Sunny felt anywhere near as helpless and devastated as he was feeling. She had the upper hand. It was her body, her child- until it was dead. The finality, took the last bit of strength from his body and he fell across the hood of the car, crying loudly in despair. The deep sobs tearing his heart apart. The thud of the metal hitting metal roused him from is misery. A simple hug would’ve meant a lot. A word of comfort or remorse would’ve balmed his spirit.
 Instead, he watched her shoulder her purse and without a glance in his direction, she strolled up the walk to her mother’s house. The taps of her heels as they walked the sidewalk to the front door, the closing snap, an end to his wishful dreams. All sounds that echoed in his nightmares for years. They were the symphony of the end of his life and the catalyst to many changes.
Read More

Price of Honor Excerpt:Ismet's Honor #romance #abortion #companionnovel

Sunny stood on the outside of the glass doors, waiting for someone on the inside to let her in. She did her best to ignore the sarcastic remarks from the tiny group of women peering through the windows of the childcare center. It was bad enough she’d stood in the midst of the fan girls, wasting ten good minutes as she built her nerves to ring the bell,but now she had to listen to their snide remarks.
“Good luck with trying to get in there.”
“Must be your first time. You know women aren’t allowed.”
“Not allowed?” She questioned the statement. “It’s a daycare center, not a monastery.”
“And so? Those faggot muthafuckers want to be able to do whatever they want with those little children. As if they’re safe behind those glass walls. Messing with those babies without anyone knowing.”
Sunny turned to see where the derogatory venom was coming from. Her search stopping when her eye connected with those of a huge angry man. He refused to drop his gaze from hers or retract his statement. The business suit he wore put him in odds when compared to the casual dress of everyone else on the sidewalk. 
“Yeah, I said it, you people make me sick. Uppity Black pervert who runs the place thinks he’s the king of the world.” 
The burning, unblinking hate in his eyes was hard to turn away from and it frightened her. The force of the anger he harbored spewed from him like stink on a skunk, unpalatable. She let her gaze slide away slowly, the clinching and unclinching of his fists, grabbing her attention and she looked back at his face. Her immediate instinct was to run. 
“That’s some pretty horrible and disgusting accusations. Just because men are taking care of children they have to be perverts? What does that make you? All dressed up and standing out here like a fan girl.” A middle aged woman pushed her way through the crowd to stand practically nose to nose with him. Her finger wagging in his face in rhythm to her word.
“What are you?” He asked. Slapping away her finger. His lip nearly touched his nose, twisted as it was in disgust. “A dirty nigga lover? All you stupid White women standing out here with this tribe. Hoping to get you one of those things in there.” Spittal flew out of his mouth and landed in the face of the closest females. Their unified, horrified movement of removal, a perfect performance in synchronization. 
Sunny giggled softly in a shocked nauseated reflex.The idea of it landing on her making her gag and shudder.
The guy paced in a small circle. Waving his arms in dismissal of whatever the women shouted in their own defense.
“You ignorant women make me sick. I see you,” He pointed at each in turn. “Or some other version of you standing out here, everyday. Get your lazy asses a job. Peering in those windows as if you’re watching heroes. These are animals. Every last one of them. Carry your butts away from here before something happens to you.” He pushed the shoulder of the first women. Her struggle to remain in a standing position- lost. She fell to the ground which angered everyone and the verbal attack became louder and physical as they all took a swing at him.
“You sound like a raving maniac. A race baiter.” Someone shouted from the now swollen pond of onlookers.
“This man and this center helps fathers who want to take care of their children.” Shouted another.
Sunny looked around. Where there had been a few quiet bystanders, now there were at least fifty people. Ranting, pushing and instigating. Many agreeing with the profusely sweating, profane angry man. Most simply there to poke a bear and get a video on their cell phones. The smiling faces, manic in their glee at having something to post on their social media accounts.
“And now, here come the stupid media.” The man used his calloused thumb to point at the collection of camera carrying paparazzi making their way from across the street where they’d been stationed at the courthouse. “Everyday they keep the news flooded with some time wasting nonsense about this damned place and that useless waste of skin, Ismet Honorable O’Neal. Honorable,my ass. What they should be doing is filming the broken heart mothers-not some disgusting child stealing lawyer. He’s not a hero, he’s a home wrecker.”
“What do you know? Screaming and being prejudice because you hate Black people. You’re just another racist.”
“Probably an undercover gay. All dressed up like a giant Ken doll.” A cellphone holder raised his arms a little higher. Hoping to catch the man’s reaction above the heads of the other people.
“You call me an f’ing race baiter? A gay? The hell I am. I was a grandfather. I was a grandfather until that rotten bastard stole my granddaughter from my little girl. Took her and gave her to some lowlife who’s gone now. Flew away and we’ll never see that baby again. My family is torn apart.”
Sunny watched the tears roll down his cheeks and immediately soften the persona of a gruff, belligerent, racist. For a moment she felt sorry for him.Tears burned her eyes. The urge to go through the crowd and offer him a hug, halted by three things happening simultaneously.
Someone called his daughter a worthless whore who probably deserved to lose custody, Ismet finally opened the center door, and the man, in his hurt and rage, pulled out a weapon.
In one flashing instance, Sunny was yanked securely into the building, bullets flew and everyone scattered. Few making it to safety away from the automatic shots.
Read More
Powered by Blogger.

© 2011 Companion Novels: Ribbons & Belle and Ismet's Honor, AllRightsReserved.

Designed by ScreenWritersArena