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.
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.”
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.
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