December 2011 excerpt (FINAL)

CHAPTER 4

A few days later, Kidd was about to stretch out in Parke’s favorite chair when Parke strolled in. Rubbing the back of his neck and then squeezing it, Kidd recognized the sign of frustration because he had the same habit. In fact, he’d done it minutes earlier.

It had been a grueling week. Kidd was exhausted after hours of morning group interviews, networking luncheons, and evening seminars. His job prospects didn’t seem any better than in Boston. One thing he had to admit, this family really did have connections. Too bad he had burned so many bridges.

“Hey, man. Whatz up?” Parke didn’t wait for his response as he took residence in another recliner. “I’ve come to collect on your offer.”

Kidd froze and frowned. “What did I offer?”

“About Grandma BB.”

His heart sank. Strokes weren’t anything to play with. “Look, man, I’m really sorry she passed away.” Kidd felt like a jerk for giving Parke a hard time on the same day his friend suffered a stroke. Now she was dead.

“Are you kiddin’ me? Grandma BB is very much alive. We made arrangements for her to stay temporarily at Garden Chateau. It’s a skilled nursing and assisted living facility. The director is a friend of mine, and I’m also her financial planner. Hopefully, Grandma BB will be out in no time.

“But the way that woman was swearing at Cheney and me when we had her transferred today, I would say God’s giving her an extended stay in order for her to repent. I was so close—” he used his finger and thumb to demonstrate—“to scooping her up and dumping her in the prayer room until praise and worship filled her mouth.” He exhaled. “She clowned so bad at the nursing facility, we literally had to leave the building before we got put out. Cheney and I were down the hall and we could still hear her carrying on. Slur speech and all. Needless to say, I don’t think our presence is going to aid in her recovery at the moment.

The director of nursing will give us a call when she feels Grandma BB has accepted her diagnosis. The sassy senior has to be willing to become an active participant in her recovery. The nurse cautioned me that could be weeks or a month, depending on Grandma BB’s frame of mind. At this point, she seems agitated at this point because she likes to be in control.”

“She sounds like a character.” Kidd wanted to laugh at his cousin’s embellished description of some old woman.

“To say the least, Mrs. Beatrice Tilley Beacon aka Grandma BB is a spirited personality. She needs almost twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

“I wish there was something I could do,” Kidd stated offhandedly as he stood and was about to step foot in the kitchen. Mrs. Beacon was feisty. Too bad he never met her.

“There is. I have a business proposition. You may not think you need us, but we desperately need you right now.”

He had a bad sinking feeling he wasn’t going to like it. Business propositions were usually meant to take advantage of something or somebody. And he was nobody’s fool.

Available on eBook December 2012. Available in stores January 2012. Thanks for reading.

November 2011 Guilty by Association excerpt

Chapter 2 (unedited)

St. Louis, Missouri

Barely a month later, already there was trouble in Kidd’s promised paradise. He shifted on the sofa of Parke’s magnanimous turn-of-the-century home in an historic neighborhood of Ferguson.

At the moment, he was being chewed out royally by Parke’s wife, Cheney; Malcolm’s wife, Hallison; and another woman whose identity escaped his memory. They were livid because he refused to accept or retain any of the jobs they labeled as great opportunities.

Other than having the fear of God somewhere deep deep down inside of him, he wasn’t afraid of man or beast. But a double dose of beautiful tongue-lashing; long-legged females—with their hands hoisted on their hips, shooting darts his way—somehow made Kidd rethink his fearlessness. Their mug shots resembled his mother when she was about to take him and Ace down, once they began to tower over her as teenagers.

Even a pint-sized, adorable little girl named Kami stood staring at him with her arms folded. With two thick braids and wearing a karate outfit, she was the spitting image of her father. Without saying a word, the group’s expression conveyed, Looks are deceiving. We’ve got just enough ’tude to back up our demands.

“My father-in-law was cordial when he learned you walked away from the factory position. He had been tirelessly pursuing it for you since the day you got off the plane. Although Papa P. held his tongue,” Cheney smarted off. “Parke will be steaming that you did it again—turn down a job that hundreds of people want.”

“Same here,” Hallison added. “Malcolm even tried to set up an office position for you, and you declined it.”

“I don’t have a hubby yet, but if I did, he would have their back,” the third woman chimed in. “I see a beat down coming your way.”

Kidd grunted. “If you’re a fortune teller, then I’m sure you’ll see I’m not the man down,” he said smugly. It irritated him that he couldn’t recall her name. “And you are again?”

“Part of this family.” The woman was a looker: cute, shapely…and white—there no way she could be a blood relative, could she? She triple-popped a wad of bubblegum to indicate the question-and-answer period had just ended.

Really?” Kidd baited her.

“Never mind that, Imani,” Cheney said. “Our husbands are a piece of cake compared to a woman’s wrath.” She snickered. “Put it this way, you might want to start shaking in your boots right about now because we happen to love our men. And we’re not going to let anybody take advantage of them, including another Jamieson.”

“Just in case you don’t want to listen to them, I’ve got my rig outside and I’d be happy to repossess that nice ride of yours. Give me any reason. As a matter of fact, I don’t need one.” Then Imani added proudly, “I haven’t earned the company title of repo woman of the month for nothing.”

He contained a smirk at their bogus terrorization. And they professed to be peaceful, loving Christians. Kidd sneered. He didn’t doubt many people tangled with these Jamiesons, and he was just as much a reckoning force single-handedly.

Acknowledging his month of their hospitality was about to expire, Kidd decided to speak his mind. “Your family sought me out—not the other way around. I was happy in my Hyde Park neighborhood in Boston.”

“Mommy’s talking. Don’t interrupt,” Parke and Cheney’s daughter, Kami, warned Kidd. “Please.” Then she shifted into a martial arts stance then looked for confirmation. “Right, Mommy?”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

Kami beamed when Cheney nodded and gave her a heartwarming smile.

Is there a law against spanking someone else’s child? He wondered. In fact, he was about ready to strangle everybody in the room. If they had owned a bird and dog, Kidd wouldn’t spare them either.

“You ladies must think I’m a kid—”

“That’s what your name implies. What kind of nickname is that anyway?” Imani tempted for a response.

“Don’t let the nickname fool you. Last time I checked, I’m old enough to drink and drive.”

Kidd flexed his muscles. His father —whenever he made an appearance—addressed Kevin as “kid” as if he couldn’t remember his name. When his younger brother came along five years later, Samuel tagged Aaron as “Ace.” That nicknamed claimed the younger Jamieson to be his father’s “Ace in the hole” when he gambled. What Kidd couldn’t understand was why his deadbeat dad was adamant about them having the Jamieson last name. What a joke.

Guilty by Association Chapter 1 part 2

Nodding, Black Eye stepped back and let Kidd enter. As he wound his way through the lounge, he fist-bumped some, winked at a few ladies, and nodded at the bartender. Then he paused and took a deep breath. Yeah, this was his turf. If the relative imposter tried to put anything over on him, Kidd would personally break all two hundred and six bones in his body.

With the back room in sight, Kidd observed the three occupants. The light-skinned guy was buffed, maybe six—one or –two. Kidd was a wrestler in high school and a boxer on the streets. Either way, he could take him.

As he edged closer, his heart suddenly slammed against his chest. What if…what if this man really was his relative and knows something about his father? Kidd had no idea how to process that information. He took a deep breath. The only Jamiesons he knew in the world was him and his brother. He had never met any at school, at work, anywhere else for that matter.

As if sensing Kidd’s presence, Cameron glanced over his shoulder. He stood. Standing face-to-face, they eyed each other. Kidd squinted, looking for any familiar features—nothing—until Cameron worked up a cocky smile.

The moment of recognition was swift. The cousins weren’t a mirror image, but enough similarities were noted. Some of the same expressions that flashed across Cameron’s face when he grinned matched Kidd’s brother, Ace. Where Cameron was fair-skinned, Kidd had the richest deep brown tan a person couldn’t buy in a bottle or get in tanning booth. Both had thick wavy hair.

“Thanks for coming.”

Shrugging off his jacket, Kidd grabbed a chair, whipped it around, and sat without taking his eyes off Cameron. “Show me what you got.”

No argument. Cameron retook his seat and opened a thick folder. His two friends sat back, looked as if they didn’t want to be there. Cameron appeared to be confident and not intimated in the least. He whipped out a long sheet of paper with a maze of lines and names. The document peaked Kidd’s interest for a minute when the name ‘Samuel’ stuck out amid the sea of Jamieson descendants. “I brought copies for you—”

“I didn’t come to read. You said we’re cousins. Break it down, beginning with Samuel Jamieson.”

Cameron grinned. It was smug like his, and Kidd didn’t like it. “I don’t have to read it because it’s all up here,” he announced, while pointing to his head.

“My tenth great-grandfather, Paki Kokumuo Jaja, was the firstborn son of King Seif and Adaeze, which means princess. A member of the Diomande tribe, he was born in December 1770 in Côte d’Ivoire, on the Gold Coast of Africa. His name means ‘a witness that this one will not die.’

“In the fall of 1790, he and his warriors were attacked and savagely beaten by slave traders, chained, and kidnapped. He was among hundreds of thousands who were hauled to the Gates of No Return castle. As they waited, many captives prayed they would die, including my tenth great-grandfather. They were unmercifully stacked together in the bowels of a ship—not the ironic Good Ship of Jesus under the command of Sir John Hawkins—but Snow Elijah. The biblical reference is uncanny, isn’t it?”

Kidd’s head was spinning with the information. “Listen, my black skin could rival a panther’s, so there’s no doubt I’m from Africa. Why don’t you cross the water and stick to relatives who lived in the twentieth century?”

Cameron lifted a brow. “It’s rude to interrupt. You didn’t want to read the notes, so I’m giving you information verbally. I’ll bring you up to speed in less than five minutes.”

Backbone. Kidd admired that, but that didn’t mean he had to accept him as a blood relative.

“Snow Elijah landed first in the Caribbeans and dropped a payload of human cargo. Then headed off to the coast of Maryland, a state known for harsh slave laws. Automatically, my tenth great-grandfather was separated from his bodyguards. Because of his statute and strength, Paki was sold at the highest bid of $275 to wealthy slave owner, Jethro Turner, in front of Sinner’s Hotel. That purchase gave Turner exactly one hundred and thirteen enslaved people.”

“I’m warning you, Cameron, get to the point, or do I need to draw blood to get a DNA sample?”

“And I told you I don’t like to be interrupted when I’m on a roll.” Cameron snarled. “Paki married Turner’s daughter, Elaine. Besides my great—you know—grandfather, they had four other sons: Aasim, Fabunni, Abelo, and Orma. Orma was your eleventh great-grandfather. His name means free. Although he was born free, he sold himself back into slavery for a woman, Sashe, who was a runaway, but recaptured.” Cameron concluded and leaned back.

Figures, a fool from the beginning. Kidd had had enough. “That tells me nothing about my old man and how you and I are related.”

“Sure it does. It tells you that my tenth great-grandfather and your eleventh great-grandfathers were brothers. Your father and his children are direct descendants of Orma. If you want to know more, I have stipulations.”

“You sought me out. Not the other way around.” Laughing, Kidd stood and grabbed his jacket. “Whatever you want to drink, it’s on the house.”

Cameron also stood. “I can buy my own drink. And for the record, I’d make a better bouncer than that gatekeeper at the door. The Jamieson men are a force to be reckoned with.”

“I wouldn’t say that too loud. Black Eye has a short temper and he’s not empty-handed.”

“I never leave home without mine.”

Kidd looked Cameron up and down. “I’ll be in touch.” He walked out without looking back. Kidd would never admit it to everybody, but he like Cameron, whether he was a Jamieson or not.

Guilty by Association

Prologue

Boston, Massachusetts

“He called again,” Sandra Nicholson told her son, Kidd Jamieson, as soon as his commanding figure cleared the doorway of their Hyde Parke condo.

Grunting, he shut the door. Kidd’s nostrils flared as he swaggered across the hardwood floor. The persistent caller claimed to be Cameron Jamieson, a distant cousin who had tracked down him and his younger brother, Aaron “Ace” Jamieson through some genealogy nonsense.

Cameron said he was completing his second engineering degree at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. At first, Kidd wondered if it was a prank. After all, in the black community, everybody claimed to be a cousin.

“I told the man we weren’t interested in whatever he was selling,” Kidd spat before brushing a tender kiss on his mother’s cheek as he headed to the kitchen.

“Kevin Jamieson,” she said, following him then planting her hands on her hips. “He isn’t pedaling goods. He represents your father’s side of the family—maybe the good part. At least feel him out.”

Family, huh? More like… Kidd didn’t finish the thought. “Okay, I’ll put an end to this for once and for all. You have his number?”

Kidd didn’t need this added frustration. He was the older of two sons to a never-been-married mother. Kidd found no fault with her, just his absentee father. His priority was no matter what, to take care of mother, which had become a little harder after he was laid off from the Gillette Corporation—a job he labored at for eleven years—and forced to give up his apartment.

His mother tore off a sheet of paper and handed it to Kidd. Studying the number, he punched in the digits and leaned against the granite counter top.

“Hello?” Music was blasting in the background.

Assuming it was Cameron who answered, Kidd didn’t waste his words on preliminaries. “Let’s meet.”

And Cameron didn’t play dumb. That earned him a point of respect. Kidd heard him muffle the phone. “Hey, it’s my cuz. Turn it down,” then he repeated his order, adding, “lower!”

Kidd grunted. Cuz? The man didn’t know him, yet claimed Kidd anyway, which was odd, considering his worthless father had turned his back on him and his younger brother.

“I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Now,” Kidd demanded. Let the man come to his turf.

Cameron didn’t stutter or skip a beat. “You name the place and I’m there.”

Kidd did and disconnected.

“You could have invited him here, honey. He’s very polite when he calls, not rude like you just treated him. Don’t make me ashamed Kidd.”

Shaking his head, Kidd washed his hands in the sink, then grabbed a plate out the cabinet. “He may have our number, but he doesn’t need to know where we live.” Without a care in the world, Kidd began lifting lids and peering into pots. “Mmm, sweet potatoes and collard greens. Thanks, Ma.”

Sandra sat at the table, folded her hands, then cleared her throat. “How long do you plan to make him wait, Kidd?” She didn’t mask her irritation with him.

“He’s interrupting my dinner plans and I’m hungry. Job hunting isn’t what it was when I finished junior college.” Kidd took a seat at the table after piling enough food on his plate to feed him and his mother. Kidd bit off a chunk of cornbread without saying grace then made the mistake of glancing at his mother who raised a censoring brow. Kidd bowed his head, then sanctified his food.

As he chewed, he reflected on the pending meeting. What was the purpose? It never was one of Kidd’s goals in life to build a relationship with any Jamieson. As a matter of fact, he had considered changing his last name a couple of times to his mother’s name to her displeasure. He viewed Samuel Jamieson as a reproductive donor bank to replenish the earth—nothing more.

It wasn’t until Kidd was a teenager when his family learned—thanks to debt collectors trying to track down Samuel—that he had already been married twice, neither time to Kidd’s mother, and spawned eleven children. Kidd’s memory of his hide-and-seek dad began to fade as he grew into manhood. Now at thirty-one, it had been about twenty-plus years since he had last seen Samuel.

When Kidd finished eating, he went upstairs to change clothes and pack his pistol. He wanted to be ready for whatever would go down. Kidd drove the short distance and parked. What did this man expect? For them to shake hands and then shoot some pool? Kidd got out of his car and nodded to a few men loitering near the parking lot, which might seem suspicious to some, but not him because he could easily blend in with them. Kidd knew two or three of the men from tinkering on their cars. If this Cameron was a true Jamieson then the surroundings like these wouldn’t intimidate him.

“Whatz up, dawg?” Black Eye, a convicted felon, greeted him at the door of the club and slapped his back. He looked around, then glanced over his shoulder. “Kidd, there’s some light-skin brotha that walked up in here a few minutes ago like he was a regular—and he wasn’t. The guy claimed he was your cousin and you’re expecting him—a big guy. Had two other fellows with him. One could fit in and the other guy…ain’t no way—a tie? Up in here?” Black Eye roared. “You know, I’ve got ya back if you need me.” Black Eye thumped his chest.

So Cameron had sense enough not to come alone. Kidd smirked. “Don’t know him. I came to check him out.”

Black Eye reached into the waist of his pants. “I got this.”

Kidd reached out and stopped him. “No, I got this.”

March excerpt for Crowning Glory

This is the last excerpt for Crowning Glory before it is released at the end of the month.





Don't forget the contest. Post a review on Amazon during the month of April 2011 and enter a chance to win the crystal slipper table lamp. For more information, check my author page on Amazon or my website. www.patsimmons.net.

Excerpt from Chapter 4:

Karyn is having second thoughts about going on a date with Levi as she gnawed on her lips. She had too much on her plate without worrying about a romantic entanglement.

“I’m not going,” Karyn decided.

“Oh yes, you are.” Buttercup squinted.

“No, I’m not. I should’ve never encouraged him by accepting his gift. He said if I tried it on, it was a yes. Since the tag is still on it. I’m giving it back.”

“Well, I guess it’s settled.”

Something wasn’t right. Buttercup never backed down and rarely agreed with her. Karyn became suspicious as Buttercup towered over her. She walked out of Karyn’s bedroom through their shared sitting area to her bedroom then returned.

Karyn recognized her roommate’s on-a-mission expression. Karyn swiped the garment off the bed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

In a swifter action, Buttercup snatched it out Karyn’s arms. With one yank, Buttercup tugged on the tag until it came off. “Oops. Sorry, but scissors are prohibited. Hope I didn’t rip a seam.” She grinned.

“Give that back!” Karyn frowned at her vain attempt to wrestle the dress from Buttercup. Karyn was hot with disbelief.

“Sure.” Unzipping the dress, Buttercup produced a marker and scribbled something on the inside before tossing it back on the bed.

“Are you crazy? What did you do that for?” Karyn raced to her bathroom. “You’re nuts,” she yelled over her shoulder. She came back with a wet hand towel. “I hope I can wipe off those marks, or you better keep one eye open while you sleep, crazy.”

As long as Karyn had known her suite mate, Buttercup had never done anything without thinking it through since her release. Clearly, Buttercup’s blood sugar was low or something.

“I doubt it will come out. Permanent usually means permanent,” she said smugly. “And hey, I’m a jailbird. You know I know how to sleep with one eye cracked.” Folding her arms, Buttercup struck a pose that reminded her of the stereotype Indian stance.

Rolling her eyes, Karyn deciphered the messy inscription: Gift from God. “What is wrong with you? Now, I can’t return it. I don’t even know if it’s my size.”

“You better believe it’s your size. If not, you’re missing dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow. Don’t make me withhold water to squeeze you into that beauty.”

Tears of frustration temporarily blinded Karyn as she flopped on the bed. “This won’t work.” She covered her face with her small hands.

“Listen, Wallace, you’re a new creature. Jesus died on the cross to redeem us.” Buttercup pointed. “Old things are passed away. All things are new. Can’t nobody pin anything on us.” She thumped her chest, then joined her friend on the bed. “This Levi guy sees something in you God has shown him…”

Karyn temporarily zoned out. Hadn’t Levi said something similar? Buttercup’s raving snapped her out of it.

“People go on dates all the time, except for me of course. Halo and I are just bidding our time. Once we complete our parole, then look out. But for you, a date could mean dinner, dancing, or a movie, not a marriage proposal or a contract to bear his children.”

February excerpt

Here is February's excerpt of Crowning Glory. The release is less than 60 days away on April 1, 2011.
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CHAPTER 3

Rossi was one of the most sought-after youth ministers at Living for Jesus Church where two sets of the Tolliver family fellowshipped. He knew how to pray, and at times, God allowed him to discern demonic criminal activity around him. Levi was also the most sought-after bachelor at the church. Rossi relaxed and smiled as he closed his Bible. “Levi, you have really moved on with your life. You have been emotionally healed,” he spoke to the wind in his quiet third-floor condo.

He lived in an upscale building that was the brainchild of Tollivers Real Estate and Development. Business partners, Rossi and Levi’s company had overseen the renovation of the former sixty-five-year-old warehouse. The six-story building featured multi-level lofts, condos, and a penthouse. Several of their family members were residents.

The cousins were often referred to as the comeback construction kids. The Tollivers had an eye to discern when to renovate or when restoration was the only way. They were known for transforming long-forgotten black neighborhoods into majestic masterpieces. If an area was blighted, their crew gave it a facelift. If they couldn’t resuscitate a building, their demolition crew took it down.

As teenagers, Rossi, who was two years older than Levi, was the ringleader of seven cousins. As men, Rossi’s bond with Levi never waned, and their bloodline had little to do with it. When Rossi repented of his sins, he set a standard for salvation that most of the young Tolliver men followed.

Rossi and Levi were alike in many ways. They worked in the same profession. Where Rossi enjoyed buying up large tracts of land in depressed areas, Levi had the vision to develop them. Both were diehard college football fans; Rossi cheered for the Baltimore Ravens, Levi was behind the Philadelphia Eagles all the way, and the Tollivers believed in strong family ties. Levi and Rossi would take soul food over barbecue any day and had the same taste in clothes—stylish but conservative.

Most times they shared the same taste in women—physically appealing, not necessarily outright stunning, and a healthy dose of temperance in their response to situations. They had to know how to hold it together when things didn’t work in their favor. In the past, Levi and Rossi had a close enough relationship to sometimes guess what the other was thinking. They didn’t agree on everything, and that was the source of heated debates. Still, they loved each other and had each other’s back.

Levi and Rossi Tolliver were also distinguishable. Where Levi was barely six feet, Rossi made up for it at six five. Levi wore glasses, Rossi had perfect vision. Levi was too light skinned for Rossi’s taste, considering Rossi was a degree away from being called midnight black. Levi could thank his Jewish mother for that one. Rossi appreciated his sole African heritage.

It was argued that the Tolliver clan included cousins in every state. Rossi never challenged the assertion. With a Pentecostal upbringing, the Tollivers spawned babies as if they were in a race to see what the end would be. It was the norm for their households to have five-plus children. However, Levi and Rossi’s parents didn’t make the cut. Levi’s father, Victor, had three sons. Rossi’s father, Ross, had four sons; neither brother had daughters.

Before Diane came along, Rossi often joked, “If she has a sister, hook me up.” Well, Diane did have a sister, but the woman was crazy. Jesetta wasn’t a bad person or bad looking. She was a born dictator and expected everyone else to line up behind her without question. Following the death of her sister, her mood swings were almost unbearable.

Over the past four years, Rossi never left Levi’s side--always a phone call away. Levi had a massive hole in his heart and life. Rossi had silently prayed for his cousin to get out of his personal purgatory where the past seemed to have a steady grip. It would never close, but the right woman, the right circumstances, and the right blessings from God could keep it from growing.

Crowning Glory January 2011 excerpt

Coming April 2011...
Pre-order on Amazon.


“So, you finally asked her out—”

“Correction, Rossi, Karyn finally said yes. That woman hustled me, probably without knowing it.” There was no way Levi would disclose how he eliminated more of Karyn’s excuses. While shopping for Dori, Levi went to Macy’s to pick up a suit. As he walked through the women’s section, Levi devised a plan after a dress caught his eye on a mannequin. He envisioned Karyn’s face and body.

Turning on the Tolliver charm, he approached three unsuspecting ladies—probably another act of stalking—and asked if they wouldn’t mind helping him out. They eagerly agreed to model outfits until they learned it was for a woman who wasn’t his mother, sister, or cousin. After telling them the sad story about his wife, two ladies relented. They tried on several dresses until one held his attention. Although another woman modeled it, Levi envisioned Karyn Wallace enhancing it. He guessed the woman was about Karyn’s size.

Besides his daughter, Levi had never bought a woman a piece of clothing before. Not even for his mother, Sharon, who preferred cash, or Diane, who enjoyed the thrill of ordering out of catalogs. On the rare occasions when Diane did venture into the malls, she never deviated from her routine: Go into a store with a mission, come out with it completed.

“Seriously, Rossi, it’s something about Karyn that makes me want to jump into the water whether I can swim or not. There’s a certain level of mystique about her and that fascinates me.”

Rossi barked out a laugh before sobering. “Sounds like a Tolliver man talking. I just hope she lives up to your hype.”

Levi removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes “Although I wasn’t actively looking for a lady, it’s as if God placed her right before my eyes, sorta like ‘Here Adam, take Eve.’”

“I hope Jesetta will see that as divine intervention.”

Next excerpt February 2011. The release is April 2010. Pre-order your copy of Amazon now.