Genres: Women's Fiction, General Fiction, Inspirational
Blurb:
Growing up was not easy for Chantelle. At an early age her innocent eyes witnessed some of the ugliness in the world. Determined not to be like her mother, she sets out to find her own path in life. With her new found freedom and her best friend Shaundra leading the way, Chantelle quickly falls into the fast paced night life but secretly longs for love. After a failed relationship leaves her feeling lost and alone, she tries to hold onto the one thing she knew to be solid and true, her deep rooted friendship. When life serves up another horrible blow she’s forced to question not only her friendship with Shaundra but also herself. Left with physical scars as a constant reminder of the things that happened to her, she struggles to heal emotionally as old wounds resurface. Join Chantelle on her journey as she learns how to love and when to let go.
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Blurb:
Growing up was not easy for Chantelle. At an early age her innocent eyes witnessed some of the ugliness in the world. Determined not to be like her mother, she sets out to find her own path in life. With her new found freedom and her best friend Shaundra leading the way, Chantelle quickly falls into the fast paced night life but secretly longs for love. After a failed relationship leaves her feeling lost and alone, she tries to hold onto the one thing she knew to be solid and true, her deep rooted friendship. When life serves up another horrible blow she’s forced to question not only her friendship with Shaundra but also herself. Left with physical scars as a constant reminder of the things that happened to her, she struggles to heal emotionally as old wounds resurface. Join Chantelle on her journey as she learns how to love and when to let go.
Excerpt:
After taking a few unsteady steps towards the house I was
stopped dead in my tracks by what I saw next. A cute little girl came bouncing
into the room. She wore braids with barrettes and ball balls all over her head.
She had on a pair of pink princess pajamas. She skipped across the room and
jumped on the couch next to him and said something. They both laughed and he
pointed the remote at the TV. They talked back and forth smiling and laughing.
I watched in awe as he tickled her and she laughed kicking her legs onto the
air and waving her arms all about. I even cracked a smile when she got up and
did a funny little dance trying to entice him to catch her before she ran and
jumped back onto the couch, only to be tickled again. My own laughter at this
heartwarming moment soon turned into tears. I stood in the yard watching them
like I was watching a movie about a warm and loving family that I was not a
part of. I was literally an outsider looking in. The warm and fuzzy feelings
that I got watching this little girl, my little sister, were overheating,
turning into rage in the pit of my stomach. Watching him interact with her only
fueled my now jealous, drunken rage even more.
He was so gentle with
her although she was obviously excited and couldn’t sit still. I knew if that
had been me as a child I would have been slapped across the face and my mother
beaten for not being able to control me. I never felt my father’s love, I only
witnessed his wrath. Now after all these years and so much damage done he gets
to live like the Huxtable’s while I still suffer. No! Not tonight. As I walked
closer I watched the little girl snuggle up next to him on the couch. She
seemed so content. She looked so safe and I began to have second thoughts. I
was still angry but thought about all the drama my parents subjected me too. I
thought about all the nights I laid in the bed crying listening to the
screaming and hollering and eventually the beatings. Just a few steps from the
door I had talked myself out of knocking. Not for him, not for me, but for the
sake of this child’s innocence.
I was robbed of my
innocent view of the world through a child’s eyes. I was forced to see so much
of its ugliness at such a young age and I didn’t want to take that from her. I
didn’t want her to have to be scared or try to figure out why some crazy drunk
lady was in her house cussing her daddy out. Disappointed in myself that I
didn’t get to tell him off, I turned away feeling even more rejected. Without
him even knowing I was there. As I walked across the street, on impulse, I
turned around and launched my half empty bottle of liquor towards the car
sitting in the driveway which assumingly was his. The only thing that startled
me more than the unexpected loud sound of glass breaking against the hard metal
of the back of the car was the blaring of the car alarm going off. I jumped at
the sound of both and ran full speed to my car, stumbling in the middle on the
street before I got there. I saw the figure of a man in my peripheral as I
pressed hard on the gas and sped off into the darkness of the night.
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Author Bio:
I was born in Louisville Kentucky where I still reside. I
have three wonderful sons and a supportive husband who I love dearly and come
second in my life only to God. I have been writing poetry and short stories
since junior high school and it has become one of my passions in life. I
published my first book of poems Words From A Sista in 2010. I have recently
completed my first novel Beautiful Scars and hope to write many more. I truly
believe anything is possible in life with not only God but with hard work,
patience and perseverance. I write not to be rich and famous but hopefully to
inspire and motivate others.
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