Traveling the Writing Journey with Author Ava Bleu

The Writing Journey ~ In Ava's Words

I’ve always loved films of historical dramas and epic romances. I love those period pieces set in England and France. I love the atmospheric beauty of dramas set on a cliff on a moor in Scotland or in green hills of Ireland or the vast, expansive beauty of China or Russia. And because I’ve loved these stories all my life, it only highlights the fact that I’ve never seen an epic love story or historical drama based upon Africa.



Ava Bleu lives and loves in the Midwest, countering bitter winters with smooth jazz and tasty edibles. Ava Bleu is the author of the contemporary romantic comedy, The Diva of Peddler’s Creek and Glorious Sunset, an edgy inspirational romance with a time-traveling king, an angel, and a love for the ages.
Ava can be found in bookstores and the public library camped next to the cookbooks and/or on the town keeping an eye out for hero-material. She can also be found at her website, Facebook, and Twitter.




There is a history there that is not really referenced in the history books I grew up reading, and I’m embarrassed by how little I know of my ancestry beyond our start in this country, but my story is not unique. I feel loss when friends talk about tracing their families back to their European roots, and I can only trace as far back as Alabama. But there is something to be learned even in that. Just because African Americans don’t know from whence we come doesn’t mean the link is not still there. Not knowing our history prior to transatlantic slavery doesn’t mean that no history exists. That’s kind of the theme to my new story. Just because we don’t have a thing we desire at this place, in this time, doesn’t mean we never will and just because we don’t remember as a people doesn’t mean it’s never been or that we'll never find or know it.

So, I decided to write my own story of an epic love, and because I do what I do, it became a romantic comedy. I’m always drawn to the link between history and present day, and this story is no exception. I drew upon methods of literature that I loved to craft my story, which ended up including a guardian angel, a time-traveling king, and magic. The theme? It is about the lessons that history—even tragedy—can teach us to better our lives today.

African King Taka Olufemi has traveled over four hundred years to find the woman who holds the soul of his murdered queen and he’s a little cranky. With a ruby brooch as his vessel, the former king is forced to grant wishes to ungrateful mortals hoping to one day find, and win, the heart of his lost love.

But it will take more than good looks, superior intelligence and an impressive pedigree to earn the love of Violet Jackson. The ambitious interior designer doesn’t remember Taka or their history. Love—with its inevitable heartbreak chaser—has no place in Violet’s immediate life plan. All the handsome “genie” can do for her is pony up on the three wishes he’s promised and try not to be a pain while he’s at it.

While the arrogant king is praying for his submissive queen and the faithless object of his affection isn’t praying at all, guardian angel, Aniweto, is praying for them both. With Ani’s help, Taka and Violet’s epic love will be rekindled and this royal couple-behaving-badly will finally earn their happily-ever-after through the grace of the Almighty.

You can order Glorious Sunset on Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

It’s hard enough to get a novel published today in one genre, but stubborn me, I had to go and write a book that spans many. I love the story. But, alas, agents and publishers wanted nothing to do with it. After offering up my baby to industry experts who looked at it and simply were at a loss as to how to define it, I wrapped up my baby and put it away for about three years, all the while cursing my own inability to stick to a simpler formula.

Eventually, I decided I needed to see my book in print and planned to self-publish it. But, as these things often happen, at the very point I decided to no longer allow the industry to govern the value of my little story—that I loved it and I knew someone else would—I met the acquisitions editor of Urban Christian Books. I sent in my manuscript and waited for the rejection that never came. Not only did she not reject it, she told me how lovely the story was, how wonderful it was, and how it was fresh and new and exciting. I cried and laughed with joy at the same time.

It’s an emotional rollercoaster, this writing game. The world says they want originality, but the industry says originality doesn’t sell. The world says it wants a new trend, but the industry says a trend that hasn’t been tried and true is not worth putting money behind. Writers want to be creative, but the industry pushes us to conform to each other, muddying our voices and creating a pool of sameness that can stifle new talent. It is not wrong to stick to a genre or style, I only suggest that if a work is screaming to be something other than that, maybe the industry is short-sighted not to allow that work to blossom into whatever it is meant to be.

As for my own little story, I am so grateful someone saw its worth, and I hope it touches others as much as the writing of it touched me. A lifetime of exposure to others’ cultural history had planted a seed of longing in me to know my own. And while I have a ways to go to (Africa is a huge continent, and I don’t even know where to start!), in the meantime I can do what novelists do best: weave a tale of epic love that spans the ages and remembers its glory even when flawed, wounded humans forget. Because despite all our ancestors went through, I have no doubt the memory of love and loved ones is what brought them through the fire, hope for love and loved ones kept them moving forward. Maybe my little story can inspire someone to wonder just exactly who those people were whose blood runs through our veins, those people who gave us the strength to survive what was to come. It can’t all be sadness when we are still here to live, breathe, love life, and seek to remember what our hearts have never forgotten: We are the history we acknowledge and the love we embrace.

Excerpt from Glorious Sunset

1600 A.D., Jaha, West Africa

The acrid smell of a burning village brought King Taka Olufemi awake, sputtering, coughing and wincing in pain as he did so. Slowly memory returned and with it the horror. He cracked his eyelids open, his eyes immediately burning with the pebbly smoke that floated in a low hanging cloud. Pushing himself upright from where he lay causing sharp pain to streak through his torso and the agony brought his gaze down as he sucked in his breath and jerked his hands to the source. Seeing the jagged, torn flesh of the wound in his side, the rest of his memory came and with the memory…

“Oh no … no, no, no….”

He forgot his pain. He fought off the sway of the world as he stood, struggling to focus and see through eyes watering with smoke and something else he didn’t dare identify. He didn’t need to see when he could smell. He was a king and warrior; battle was in his bones and death always a close companion. He smelled both here.

He looked around. Men, women, children; the massacre was complete. Beyond the hall huts and houses of his village were blackened ash. The air still burned with the stench of fire. He couldn’t understand this. In all his life he’d never seen such brutality; never known such dishonor. Still, he firmed his jaw and kept looking, turning in a wide circle until his feet staggered to a stop before his brain could even register.

His body knew how to find its heart…

You can order Glorious Sunset on Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Lorie Hardy

Lorie Hardy, is CEO/Founder of Empowerment4life.com, an organization focusing on the four main aspects of life; finance, health, employment and love, with an emphasis on love. Blessed with a genuine love for humanity, a positive outlook on life, she believes there is someone for each of us and desires to see everyone in happy and healthy relationships.

Lorie works as a Compliance Manager for the County, but has a passion for writing. She is the mother of three beautiful children, Amanda, Shannon, and Houston who were partially responsible for the completion of her first published book There Are No Good Men, Because There Are No Good Women. Her goal was to take what she’d learned through her troubling relationship experiences and share it with them to ensure that they would be better equipped to understand and to deal with the complexities of similar problems that might arise in their futures.

During her life journey, Lorie experienced things that would cause her to question God, "Why am I going through all of this grief?" She was a good person and didn't think she deserved being treated in such an extremely undesirable way. We always think we know what is best for us. I had to learn that God was in control and knew what was best for me and mainly to seek Him before we make decisions.

Without pointing the finger at anyone else, she learned from a previous involvement, that you can’t always put the entire blame on the other person when your relationship isn’t working. “Even if you’re not causing the friction, you are equally as responsible if you’re not holding the other person accountable for the friction they’re causing.” It took 17 years for Lorie to understand and acquire the knowledge to pen her first book.

Once out of the storm, she realized that what she had experienced, wasn’t just for her personal growth and benefit. She had a testimony and a duty to share her story to empower every woman she encountered. She slowly began the task of writing her book, but it wasn't until random women, strangers with similar plights, began to share their personal stories with her that she really became driven to complete her book.

Listening to the women, she began to realize that at some point in time, women had lost their self-esteem, their self-worth, and their power. “We as women have so much power, but we have relinquished it just to say that we have a man or simply because we don't wish to be alone.”

There Are No Good Men, Because There Are No Good Women is geared toward single women, single men and married couples who desire to be in healthy, successful, and loving relationships.

Lorie is currently a Board of Director for Praying Single Mothers and is a weekly guest on the “Straight Talk” show broadcasting on starplanettv.com.

Lorie also is currently working on her second book and a play that will coincide with her first book. Lorie can be booked for speaking engagements through her website, www.empowerment4life.com, Twitter, Facebook, and e-mail.

[Buy your copy of There Are No Good Men because There Are No Good Women today from The Empowerment 4 Life Website!]
This book is about situations and actions that women accept from men who continually treats the women badly; and the advice and solutions women can use to gain back their power.

The Passion for Writing - From Lorie's Pen

Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion for writing comes from my life experiences. I used to be such an introvert and didn't feel I belong with any group of people that I encountered. So I would be by myself a lot and write. But I didn't bring my passion to fruition until about 10 years ago. Little by little I would get these ideas and write them down and that lead to plays then to my book ideas and to my first publish book.


If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
If my passion were a color it would be purple. I love purple and purple is royalty. Purple is passionate to me and I'm a firm believer you have to be passionate about anything that you desire to achieve in life or you are wasting your time on that project.


How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
Well this is my first published book and it's about relationships, but there is no real storytelling in my book. Mostly information for the individual looking to acquire a healthy and successful relationship. I do tell some stories, not that aren't untrue, just the names have been changed to protect the innocent...or guilty, however you view it...lol.

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Kai Leakes

From Iowa, but later relocating to Alton, IL and St. Louis, MO, Kai Leakes was a multifaceted Midwestern child, who gained an addiction to books at an early age. Sharing stories with her cousins as a teen, writing books didn't seem like something she would pursue until one day in college. Storytelling continues to be a major part of her very DNA, with the goal of sharing tales that entertain and add color to a gray literary world.

In her spare time she likes to cook, dabble in photography, and assists with an internet/social networking group online. Loving to feed her book addiction, romance, fantasy and fiction novels are her world. Reading those particular genres help guide her as she finds the time to write and study for school.


You can learn more about Kai at/on: [Her Website] [Facebook] [Twitter] [Tumbler] [Freado]


The Passion for Writing - From Kai's Pen
Where does your passion for writing come from?
Ever since my mother indoctrinated in me the love for reading, the passion to create my own world of stories, filled with fairy tales, mermaids, and later as I got older, superheroes, magic, vampires, romance, and more, I believe that passion had always been there. It was encoded in my DNA from a family who loved to read. The craving to actually sit and write out that passion only sparked later when I was in college and later after I had graduated, but before that, the oral storytelling started in my teens when I would create my cousins stories at our sleep overs.


If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
My favorite colors are always purple, and sometimes red. If you think on a color wheel, in order to create purple, you need two colors, red and blue.  They say blue is a calming color and red is a passionate color, I think it's perfect that I have the equal balance of both. I am a Libra so, for me, writing gives me the chance to balance out my desires to just disappear into my own mind, yet still be in the present. This is why I overall chose purple for my writing color.


How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
Now this is a slightly difficult question.  For me writing and storytelling are two completely different things. I call myself a storyteller before a writer. So, for me, in order to keep my passion burning with both, I oftentimes find myself either reading other books when I have the time, or watch a good movie or television show. I also enjoy being a procrastinator which lets me just sit and be in my own mind, telling myself various storylines, that I may or may not use in the future. I also have conversations with one of my muses in the flesh, which helps me divvy out the clutter in my mind, that may be holding back a great story, plot idea, or character. Otherwise, you can find me nose deep in a book or watching a great show or movie.

Buy your copy of Sin Eaters today from one of the following locations: [Amazon] [BN.com] [Apple] [Google Play] [Walmart] [International Purchases]

Khamun Cross was born to do one thing and that was to watch Sanna Steele, a woman so unique and special he would risk his all to have her. So what, that in his job of watching her, he happens to prowl the streets, hunting the very things that go bump in the night. Even monsters or everyday looking people that steal humans' souls become Khamun's victims, and he brings with him a power, a vampirism, that would send one straight to the dark.

Khamun craves the darkness in his victims as if it were his own personal dinner, but not as much as he craves the very woman he has been ordained to watch over as her Guardian Angel. Sanna Steele is just your average twenty-seven year old, with your everyday hopes, dreams and insecurities. She is clueless about the war that is secretly raging around her in the streets of St. Louis. A war she will soon become a part of. But what is so special about Sanna that the very things that go bump in the night, seeks to snatch her from her very existence in life?

Excerpt from Sin Eaters

Chapter One

Today…

Metallic, sweet and mind intense flavor filled the air. The quiet that floated around made the hairs on passerby’s in the night to stand up as if the already chill filled wind wasn’t enough to have them shivering. Rich, black ebon swallowed the alleyway keeping the individuals who occupied it secured and sequestered away from all who dared peek down the tight tunnel. Water idly sliding down the asphalted street, mixed with oil and idle trash skating against the cracked surface, cushioned midnight colored Timberland’s as the flash of twinkling light cascaded in a flash like a pulse near the booted body.

Inhaling even shallow breaths, the individual listened as all sound seemed to be absorbed away as if in a tornado. This silence triggered the timed attack, which had the anticipation in the individual’s body expand with power, velocity, speed and well checked strength.

If one was to be one of the many idle flies which hovered in the nearby dumpster, they would be amazed at the sight of the super human individual running in an almost flying position and landing on the second hulking form in the alley.

The rise of a scent that had cats meowing and arched in defense on the railings of a window and under a parked car filled the air again as the crisp white flash of light slashed in the night air, landing against the second balked individual as the attacker hissed.

In a fraction of a blink, claws the size of an oversized lion slashed in the air as tentacles dipped out near the blind spot of the attacker, making the being jump in the air. Bringing down a flashing light of metal unto the second balked former human looking being but now entity of horrendous looks, the precise slash against the entities flesh caused the now familiar smell to fill the air once more.

The attacker crouched low in a resting battle position, taking in shallow calm breaths as the thing turn to attack again, running full speed. Its Italian leather wing tipped shoes creating a rhythm of tapping song on the alleyway floor, causing the attacker to hum, throwing the entity off its thoughts.
Light sheen of perspiration kissed the attacker’s forehead with each calm inhale. The attacker lived for this, loved it and desired the hunt of creatures such as this.

Strategizing the next move, the attacker thought back to how this prey was hunted. A quiet smile flashed across the attackers lips. It wasn’t hard to get to the sick bastard, the attacker posed as the entities preferred targets, an angry teenager, who wanted nothing but to get away from their parent. It made the attacker clutch the blade that nestled comfortably against his palm, in anger at the obscene and pornographic discussions that would occur with the demon.

It made it even easier to identify that this monster wasn’t the shrewd Italian entrepreneur he portrayed to be, but was in fact a succubae level soul polluter demon. These breed of evil were the most degenerate of demons, they enjoyed feasting off the pain of the victims through lewd sexual means, physical decapitating torture and flesh eating.

Knowing this, it silently pleased the attacker to stalk and mentally threaten the demon’s territory by baiting it, since these demons were known for their territorial nature.

Allowing the demon to believe they were to meet up outside of a popular artist’s concert, the attacker led the demon to the alleyway through simple mind manipulation and the rest is history. Shuddering with a lethal dose of pleasure and battle tactics, the attacker’s body tightened with the wait as the breeze in the alley lightly brushed against skin.

Side stepping within the low crouch, the attacker pivoted and flipped forward with the lithe agility of a panther producing a silver gun. Suddenly as if time stopped, bullets exploded in the air as the glimmering and glowing objects penetrated the thrown back body of the beast, causing it to howl in pain.

The attacker ran full speed, watching the bullets hit each expertly calculated point on the beast’s body. Landing a blow to the entities ribcage; the muscles in the attacker’s bicep tightening with the impact of breaking bones and tearing flesh.

Seething in anger, contempt, disbelief and hate, the monster attempted to slash at the attacker with its claws, its teeth dripping with a mixture of its own blood and a liquid miasma. The beast successfully slammed the attacker into the side of a building, breaking bricks and creating a crater in the wall, rushing like a bull to launch another attack of teeth and claws. Pivoting out of the way with a deep guttural grunt, the attacker let another round of bullets to release and absorb into the slashing and bleeding beast, watching him fall.

High pitched human screams burst from the beast as it lay on the cold glistening wet pavement, its twisted and contorted body writhing as the attacker casually walked over it kneeling down and grabbing it by its neck.

Watching slowly as the entity howled, hissing and fighting back, its eyes begged to be left alone as its tentacles and claws melted away into a very human hand. As the once beastly thing revealed itself during its cries, a disheveled looking handsome muscular man, dressed in an Italian designed straight from the runway suit, coughed up spewing blood and wheezed in agony. The clawing man, murmured in unintelligible sentences, his sun kissed olive skin, slowly fading into a murky grey.

Wrinkles of decay and diseases, emitting from his once handsome frame, seemed to slosh away with every scream of pain and anger. Flowing oak colored hair, drifted away as if it was dust in the wind. The man reached out attempting to tear at the attacker’s throat as flashes of the demon’s past life of darkness flowed into his vision through the eyes and briefly flashed smile of the attacker’s photogenic face.

Hunching over in a swift movement that would rival and shame a snake, if a snake could be shamed, the attacker hissed, claw palmed the man in the chest clutching at his engorged heart to pull it to its surface, beating against rapidly thinning skin, as the man screamed in garbled terror.

“Ashes to ashes…”, was whispered in the air as the attacker pulled the heart from the man’s cavity and ferociously bit into the side of the screaming man’s neck tearing and cavernously biting until the attacker’s mouth seemed to fuse with the writhing man’s jugular, as rivers of blood fluidly glided everywhere.
-Sin Eaters by Kai Leakes ©copyright 2012-

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Stacy-Deanne

Stacy-Deanne (Dee-Anne) is a novelist of mysteries and interracial romantic suspense. She started writing professionally in 1997 when she was nineteen years old. Stacy grew up loving the suspense genre. Her idols are Edgar Allan Poe and Alfred Hitchcock. Her love for Psycho and many of Hitchcock's movies fueled her fire for suspense. Stacy´s books include Everlasting (Simon and Schuster, 2007), Melody (Simon and Schuster, 2008), Giving up the Ghost (Peace in the Storm Publishing, 2011) and The Season of Sin (Peace in the Storm Publishing, 2012). She was born, raised and currently resides in Houston, Texas.


You can learn more about Stacy-Deanne at/on: [Her Website] [Facebook] [Twitter] [Mailing List]


The Passion for Writing - From Stacy-Deanne's Pen
Where does your passion for writing come from?
Writing is a huge part of my life. It makes me happy, keeps me satisfied, and even grounded. I’ve always struggled with horrible anxiety since childhood, and when I got older, I realized I had anxiety disorder. It is incredibly hard to live with anxiety disorder. It's almost like living in a prison at times because you're paralyzed about the simplest and most common things. It can become crippling at times, and writing is one of few things that calms me and relaxes me. Due to my disorder, I struggle with stress, which can take a toll on my health. Writing rescues me from succumbing to my nerves, and it actually gives me a sense of purpose. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t a writer. I'd probably be in a state of depression or so full of anxiety I'd be in a constant panic. I couldn’t see myself without the craft. My passion comes from the hope and comfort writing gives me. It’s not just something I do; it's a necessity to live.

If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
It would be every single color of the rainbow. For me there are just so many sides to writing and how I feel about it. Writing is such a versatile craft, and it deeply impacts my emotions. It can bring out many sides to how I feel. I think of colors as being mirrors to our emotions, and since my emotions during writing changes from time to time, it can be any and every color to me.

How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
Easy because without writing I'd be a basket case. Seriously. I'd be a complete wreck. I might be an alcoholic or pill popper if I didn't have writing to stimulate me and keep me calm. Like I said, writing fulfills me unbelievably. I feel like I was put on earth to do this. I didn’t know where I belonged or what I should do before becoming a writer. I had other dreams, but once I ventured into writing, I fell in love. I love storytelling because it allows me to live through my characters. I’m not outgoing; in fact, I consider myself reclusive. I don’t live my life through the outside, but I live it through the inside, which is my imagination. Ever since I was a child, I imagined things and pretended to be other people. Through storytelling I’m in control of other people (characters) and that’s the most exciting part. I also love the fact that something stems from my mind and others wanna read it. LOL! That’s just too cool.

[Buy your copy of The Wild Life today from the publisher's site!]
When Albany Detective Brianna “Bree” Morris learns that Cuban crime lord Milan Varela wants her estranged father dead, she heads off to Miami to find out why. With Homicide Detective Jayce Matthews and her ex-lover Detective Steven Kemp she devises a plot to get close to the Varela organization.

Brianna finds herself attracted to the older Milan and falls deep into his web of seduction while fighting to keep her mind on her mission. Milan is equally drawn to Brianna and vows to win her trust and her heart.

Is Milan really the villain when it comes to Brianna’s father? Or is he the victim?

Is Brianna’s father really in danger or is there more to the story than anyone could ever imagine?

Brianna risks her life to save her father’s but will she end up losing her own?

The steamy, explosive, and super-hot new installment in the Bree and Steven Series!

Excerpt from The Wild Life

“What do you expect me to say, Steve?” Brianna sat beside Jayce. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”

He bent over her. “Can’t anything go well for you, woman? Why do you keep getting yourself in these predicaments?”

“Oh excuse me for coming home and finding a man in my kitchen!”

Jersey tugged on her ears. “I have a huge headache and one of my officers has just been attacked. The last thing I need is for you two to argue.”

Steven and Brianna made faces at each other.

“We’re worried about you, Morris. Tell us what’s going on so we can help.”

“I don’t know if you can help.”

Davis slunk into the room and rested at Brianna’s feet. She scooped up the brown feline.

“The guy that tried to kill me…” She scratched Davis’ ear. “Well he worked for Milan Varela.”

Steven gaped. “What the f*** did you just say?”

Brianna shrugged.

“Are you f***** kidding me? A man who worked for the head of the Southern Cuban Mafia was here? Here?”

“I was telling Bree that a friend of mine in the FBI might be able to help her,” Jayce said. “It’s about her father. They’re looking for him.”

“George?” Jersey’s green eyes beamed from behind her glasses. “What the hell would the Cuban Mafia want with George?”

“No telling. You know the life my father lives. It’s full of risks and he makes no apologies for it.”

Jersey touched the back of her neck. “How the hell could he even get close to Milan Varela in the first place?”

“So this is the type of stuff your father’s always into?”

“Jayce my father has never been a father to me. He stays gone for decades at a time and pops up probably once every ten or fifteen years when he wants something. I wonder if he even remembers he has a
daughter half the time.” She kissed Davis’ head. “Right now what’s important is this mess he’s got going with Milan. Why would he want my dad dead?”

“I just can’t believe this. I mean your dad has been involved in some shady things during his life but nothing like this. What are you gonna do, Morris?”

“As much as I hate him, I can’t let anything happen to him. I gotta find out where he is.”

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Jacqueline D. Moore

Jacqueline Moore is a Christian author who offers spiritual words of encouragement daily on her website at http://www.jacquelinedmoore.com. She resides in Detroit, Michigan with her two sons, James and Joseph. Jackie has taken courses towards an undergraduate degree in religion and has served as a Deaconess, as well as served on various boards and committees at her church.

She is the author of "Serving Justice" which won an award for 2009 African American Literary Show romance author of the year, and "Caught in the Middle under the Peace in the Storm Publishing Company imprint. Her third novel "Chains of Deception" is now available at the publisher's site, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.

Jackie is also a contributing author to several anthologies including releases, "Triumph of my Soul, Stories of Hope, Triumph and Inspiration" "Journeys of Love, Voices of the Heart" and "Gumbo for the Soul, Here's our Child Where is the Village."


You can learn more about Jacqueline at/on: [Her Website] [Facebook] [Twitter] [Publisher] [Barnes & Noble]


The Passion for Writing - From Jacqueline's Pen
Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion for writing comes from my love of books. Growing up, I always had a book in my hands even when I wasn't supposed to. The stories captivated me and wouldn't let me go until they were finished. A really good story would keep me up late into the nights and even now, when I am caught up in a story, I find it hard to put it down until it is finished. That's what I strife for. To create stories that readers have a hard time putting down.


If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
My passion for writing would be Gold. Gold is a color that is hard not to notice. It shines brightly even when the world around it might be dark. Gold is a color of hope and illumination. As a Christian author, I strive to show hope in my stories even when the world around my characters grows dark. Sometimes, we have to be the light that leads the way out of a situation and we might find it necessary to shine the light on a situation so that you can see how wrong it truly can be for you and the ones you love.


How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
I love to observe the world around me, ask questions and play the what if game. By looking at various situations that may be going on around me and constantly asking what if, I find the opportunity to come up with an abundance of things to write about. In addition to writing fiction, I also write daily devotionals. I love taking the scriptures and creating real life situations that allow others to see Gods word in action. As a writer, all one has to do is open their eyes and look around them to tell a story. After all, everyone and everything has a story to tell.

[Buy your copy of Chains of Deception today from one of the following locations: publisher's site, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble!]

“What Happens in this house, stays in this house.”

Renee was a woman who seemed to have it all; a wonderful husband, loving family, wonderful church family, great job and the house of her dreams. She and her husband Gary have a very loving relationship. Or do they?

From the outside, Renee’s world gives the appearance of perfection. That is until a mysterious new broker by the name of Stephen Morretti begins working at the same firm with Renee. He is very charismatic and there is definite sexual tension between him and Renee.
He will become the catalyst for Renee’s voyage into a world of addiction.

Regina and Joseph Michaels are Renee’s doting parents. They are pillars of the church and looked up to in their community. They were always an integral part of Renee, who was their only child’s life. Or were they? They know the truth behind the veil of lies that
Renee has created for her survival.

Aunt Lucinda is not only Renee’s shelter in the storm; she holds the secrets of the past in her memories. She is who Renee turns to when her life starts to unravel; she will become the balm that allows her to begin to heal from the wounds of her present and her past.

Uncle Larry is Lucinda’s husband and her grandfather, Marcus Caine’s, brother. He holds three generations of guilt and will try to make amends to his family for all the pain and grief that his brother has inflicted upon the three generations of women.

Chains of Deception will take you on a journey of family secrets, betrayal, lust and lies.
Generational curses and soul ties abound in this story of learning to heal from the wounds of our past and learning to forgive others as well as ourselves for the mistakes of our present.

Excerpt from Chains of Deception

Journal Entry - Broken

The pain that one feels when the world around them has been totally and utterly destroyed can never truly be described. The simple act of breathing takes indescribable effort. One has to make a conscious decision to inhale and exhale in order to sustain life. One who has been broken feels an undeniable urge to simply cease to be.

I have been broken most of my life. At least as far back as I can remember. I don’t ever remember what it must feel like to be whole. There was always something missing. Beauty and confidence are two attributes that have never belonged to me. I was always that little girl standing at the back of the room no one seemed to notice unless she was the object of someone’s anger and wrath; tormented by teachers and bullies alike.

I felt lucky when a man actually wanted to marry me. You see, as one who has never found anything attractive about themselves, marriage seemed to be one of those unobtainable goals that most young women hope and dream of. I had never even been on a date before I met my future husband. And then, when I met that man who let my soul feel, for the first time in my life, I felt pretty. Then one day he too looked at me and realized I was still broken, no matter how much I tried to pretend I was not.

How does one repair the brokenness that permeates every single aspect of who they are? How does one continue to function when the world around them never lets them forget that they are damaged? How does one recover when life once again allows a few moments of happiness before tearing down their façade of happiness?

Yes, I am broken. It will take everything within me to suppress this undeniable urge within me to simply cease to be.

The Passion for Writing Series: Author Donneil D. Jackson

Donneil D. Jackson is a writer by nature and a Jersey girl by heart. Growing up a sheltered child, she used writing as an escape from her everyday life. She discovered that with writing she could be someone else, do things Donneil would never do and entertain others. Donneil has been writing for as long as she can remember, ever since her mother placed a pencil in her hand. The girl has a niche for painting an elaborate scene while telling a descriptive tale. One day she began writing Chante’s Song, marking the beginning of her professional writing career.


You can learn more about Donneil at/on: [Her Website] [Facebook] [Twitter]


The Passion for Writing - From Donneil's Pen
Where does your passion for writing come from?
My passion for writing comes from my desire to want more, to want something beyond what is currently available to me. It started as a child. Then I wrote about having the best cars, clothes and loving the neighborhood boys. I later graduated to loving Omar Epps, Nas and Denzel, and living in the best of what New York City has to offer.

Writing for me is an escape. It’s a mini vacation.


If your passion for writing was a color, what color would it be and why?
All I see is pink. It would be every shade of pink from a blush down to a hot pink changing into magenta bordering on red and purple. Why? Because I am soft and pink on the inside, yet when feelings are involved and emotions are racing, the color can quickly fade to red.

I write about love; I write about sex. I write about real life situations, and I use real emotion and experiences to carry out my thoughts. Depending on my demeanor, that would determine what shade of pink I am working with.


How do you keep the passion burning in your relationship with storytelling?
I create characters I like and let them lead me to where they need to go. Sometimes I need to steer them down a different path, but in the end it all works out.

[Buy your copy of Foolish today from one of the following locations: Amazon, BN, and Indiebound!]
As one of the hottest radio personalities, Kayla, the Gossip Queen, has the fast-paced, glamorous life that many dream of. But one thing eludes her. Love. Growing up in a family where her father was nothing more than a monthly check, Kayla sets her sights on finding true love, even if he comes attached to another. She’s determined to create the perfect family of husband, wife, home, and children--even if she has to slip up and make a ton of mistakes along the way.

After a decade of being with a man who constantly makes her question her role in his life and her vision of the perfect family, Kayla has to ask herself, "Am I right to fight for this love, or am I being foolish?"

Excerpt from Foolish

The lights were dim in the Sugar Bar. The spotlight was on a woman singing her rendition of Teena Marie’s “Lovergirl.” Shawn bopped his head to the music as he swirled around on a barstool. He didn’t expect the Sugar Bar to be this crowded on a Tuesday. But it appeared Open Mic Night brought out a crowd.

“Here you go, sir.” The bartender placed a shot glass in front of him.

“I didn’t order this,” Shawn said, placing his cell phone to his ear.

“It’s from the young lady at that table right there.” She pointed.

The young lady at a nearby table raised her glass with a smile.

Smiling back, Shawn passed the drink back to the bartender. “Tell her thank you, but no thank you.”

Shawn turned his back to the bartender and stuck one finger into his ear as he spoke into his cell phone. “Kayla, this is me. Babe, I’m at the Sugar Bar and I really would like you to join me for dinner. I’ve been calling you since seven. It’s nine p.m. now. I feel like ever since that day you stopped by you’ve been using me for sex. I don’t mind, but I would really like you to come back home. I’ve tried my best to prove to you that I’m the man you need me to be and dating you all over again. Call me back please.”

He ended the call and circled around on the barstool after being tapped on the shoulder. My baby made it. Shawn’s smile faded as it was not Kayla who tapped him; instead, it was another beautiful woman. His eyes explored all five-foot-four inches of her, from her designer shoes up to her hips that fit lovely in her black slacks. His eyes lingered on to breasts that looked as if they were trying to escape her blouse. Her fingers swooped her bangs from her eyes, which brought his attention to her face.

“Is there a reason why you returned my drink, handsome?” “You have beautiful eyes.” He continued to smile, although disappointed.

“Thanks. But that doesn’t explain why you returned my drink.” She placed her hand on her hip.

“I’m waiting on my ex…my girlfriend.” He looked toward the door.

“And?”

“I didn’t want to lead you on.” She looked puzzled.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Monica.”

“Monica, women have a habit of saying men lead them on. I didn’t want to accept your drink and then not leave with you or with your phone number and then have a stalker on my hands. So to eliminate all the drama, I rejected the drink. I’m good. But it was a very nice gesture. Thank you.”

“Who’s to say I wanted anything from you other than to buy you a drink?” She sat down next to him once a barstool became available.

He laughed. “Monica, it was nice meeting you. But if you don’t mind, I’m waiting on my lady.”

“It’s like that?” She licked her lips.

Shaking his head and grinning, Shawn replied, “Like I said, it was a nice gesture. But I’m good.” He motioned to the bartender to pour him another drink before checking his cell phone for any missed calls.

“I got love on my mind,” the next singer belted out, commanding the crowd’s attention.

I know that voice. Shawn turned around toward the stage. There Kayla stood with a microphone in her hand, wearing a sexy red freak’em dress. He began to walk toward the stage.

“That’s my lady.” He pointed toward the stage as he passed Monica.

He stood blocking the view of others in amazement. Not only is she beautiful, she’s talented and all mine. Kayla worked the mini-stage singing Natalie Cole’s classic, yet her eyes remained locked with Shawn’s.

“I love you, baby,” Kayla said into the microphone before handing it back to the emcee.

Kayla spoke to patrons and shook hands as she walked toward Shawn. Before she could utter a word his lips were all over hers. “I love you, too.”

New Exciting eBook Series for Preteens

If you have preteens, you definitely should check out the first two stories in Julian T. Nichols' Treasure Protector Series! Travel with Anna through her dreams as she meets the Treasure Protectors. With each meeting, Anna gets closer and closer to her true destiny. Joy and Kindness detail her first two encounters.

[click cover to purchase story]

What's Joy about?
Anna is excited about turning nine and getting her birthday wish. What she does not expect is to have a dream where she meets a real live princess. Anna goes to sleep and wakes up in a new world where she meets the one trusted to protect one of the world's most precious treasures.

Joy Sneak Peek
Anna looked on as Damisi pulled items from her bag. “Get ready for what?” she asked.

Damisi laughed. “You will be crowned today. You are one of us.”

“One of us?”

Damisi stopped and looked around the seemingly empty forest. For the first time, Anna felt a twinge of fear, like she was not supposed to be there. She could feel Damisi’s tension.

Damisi leaned over and whispered, “A Treasure Protector.”

[click cover to purchase story]

What's Kindness about?
All Anna wants to do for her 10th birthday is celebrate with her best friends. When a bad decision threatens to ruin her birthday, Anna has to dream up a way to make things better.
In her birthday dream, Anna will learn the true meaning of kindness in the strangest way and get one more birthday closer to her destiny.

Kindness Sneak Peek
The sky was pink and orange with hints of blue, and it seemed as if the clouds were dancing.

“Ouch,” Anna cried as she looked around for the person who had thrown a pebble at her.

“Ouch!” She lifted her hand to shield herself.

“Stop it. She can’t see you!”

“Well then she needs to move,” a boy’s voice responded.

Suddenly, two forms materialized as if a curtain had been pulled back. A pretty, pale girl with strawberry blond hair and an equally pale boy with brown hair and green eyes walked toward her. They seemed to sparkle as they got closer to her. Before Anna could say a single word, more children appeared all around her, throwing pebbles!

The boy moved quickly, grabbing her out of the way. “Well, you can’t just stand in the middle of the battlefield. We are at war!”


About the Author

Julian T. Nichols is an avid reader and lover of books first and author second. Nichols is a Certified Rehabilitation Counselor who currently lives with his two children. They serve as inspirations for the Treasure Protector series.

You can follow Nichols on Twitter and Facebook.