exclusive sneak peek
Aug 15, 2022 6:48 pm
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Number 51!!!
My cover made it to the second round of votes! Thank you, your support always humbles me. In the first round, you helped put me in the top 100. I made it all the way to 51 in the second round. Unfortunately Indomitable will not be going forward for the next voting session. Honestly though, I am happy that I made it as far as I did. This just means I need to keep writing more stories with killer covers that you love.
Just a lil' taste
Here's a sneak peek of next month’s new release, A Test of Fayth. I haven’t shared this excerpt with anyone, so you are the first.
Dear John,
I feel like I always have to preface my letters to you by saying this isn’t one of those Dear John letters. Don’t mind my sense of humor, it will grow on you. I hope you are well and keeping as safe as you can considering you put your life on the line to protect people like me every day.
You probably have people worrying about you a lot. That and thanking you for your service. Well, just add me to the list. Learning about your mom supporting you really hit home for me because I can’t always rely on my family to have my back. I’m happy you have that kind of support and you deserve it.
By the way, you can add a kindergarten full of kids as new fans. I hope you don’t mind, but I mentioned I had a pen pal in the marines to my kids and they went over the moon about you. Like super-charged sugar-high level.
Have you ever seen a five-year-old when the sweets kick in? It’s not for the faint of heart.
I can’t complain, though. You’ve surpassed super-hero level awesomeness for them. For me too. Not even my not-so-little Maine Coon, Snugglepuss, gets the fandom treatment like you do when they ask me for updates about you. And don’t say it’s because I fangirl for you. I do, but you don’t have to repeat it.
Next time, I’ll tell you about some stories they make up, starring…you guessed it. You. I hope they’ll entertain you as much as they have me. In the meantime, I’ve enclosed some of their drawings for you.
Sincerely
Fayth Love
Lei-clad mourners in bright aloha wear mill through the house and backyard. They share funny stories full of affection and intimate knowledge. While their sorrow-filled joy surrounds me, it becomes too much all of a sudden. I seek a few seconds to pull myself together.
I only need two.
Liar.
Two deep breaths become three, four. With each breath, the sweet-scented maile lei around my neck helps to thin the fog clouding my mind. The murkiness I’ve been swimming in since I heard of my mother’s illness probably won’t disappear for a long time, if ever. Right now, these precious seconds will give me the wherewithal to do my duty to my mother, Makana Kekoa, who I laid to rest this morning.
I wasn’t ready for her to go. For the past seven years, I’d barely come home, and now I have to face the embodiment of my shame every day.
The haunting voice of my mother’s kumu draws me out to the bustling backyard. People seat themselves on the lawn to listen to the traditional Hawaiian words in the oil.
My heart thuds a bittersweet tune. Like many of my responsibilities, I have allowed distance to separate me from many parts of my culture. As the hālau teacher chants a send-off for my mother, I soak in the moment. Hope springs inside me that the words will help to heal me of this festering wound I’ve been living with for too long.
As everything winds down, I realize that I’ve let my mom down again. I walk through the house searching for Vivian, but there is no sign of her.
I stop my mother’s long-time neighbor on his way out. “Thank you so much for coming. My mother would be glad to know how well the community remembers her.”
“Sure thing, Keoni. She was vital to the neighborhood and so proud of you. She always bragged about her son, the best marine that ever was. Now that you’re retired, I hope to see you more often.”
“Of course. By the way, have you seen Vivian?”
“Vivi—oh, I forgot. Makana always called her Apikalia. I’m sure I saw your daughter following Faith next door. Your mother hānaied the young woman when she moved into the neighborhood two years ago. Makana had a big heart for everyone, and Faith turned around and adopted your mother, too.” He pats me on the shoulder as he leaves.
I can’t argue with him. Learning my mother took a stranger in as a daughter is not surprising. She had a soft heart for everybody. My mother was the first to forgive my wife once she couldn’t hide her treachery any longer. I should be over what my wife did to me. It’s been over six years. Yet rage continues to turn my vision red every time I think about that woman.
In the few seconds I take to clear my head so I can retrieve Vivian, another funeral goer that I can’t place pats my arm, stopping me from leaving.
“Keoni, if you need anything, and I mean anything, you give me call. I no like hear dat you struggling when I stay around the corner.”
“Thank you. Right now, I’m looking for Vivian. Someone said she may be at the neighbor’s house.”
Instead of talking story with me, he nods and lets me pass. On the walk, I try to recall what this woman looks like. I should know since Vivian spends a lot of time with her. The neighbor seems like a nice enough woman. While handling the doctors’ visits and keeping my mother comfortable, I haven’t had to worry about food. Faith not only organized the neighborhood with routine house cleaning and food drop-offs, she makes the best pasteles on the island.
Despite her generosity to my family, I can’t help the resentment springing up inside me. There is still so much to do regarding my mother’s estate and finding a new job now that I can no longer serve.
Each item on my list of shit I never wanted to deal with adds fuel to the fire and more weight beneath each step as I stomp past the mango tree filled with ripening fruit. At her front door, I bang, realizing too late that I need to temper my emotions.
I’m used to holding things in and presenting an unbothered front. It comes…came with my job and has helped me avoid situations and questions that could undermine my hard-earned control.
The door swings inward to a vision of gleaming dark brown skin and glossy black curls pulled into a thick ponytail that takes my breath away. Immediately, I recognize the unique lehua pattern on the dress covering her generous curves because I’ve seen the back of it so much today. But the dress only helps me place her.
Her face stamps itself in my long-term and short-term memory with one glance. There’s no way I’ll ever forget her full, rounded cheeks or her pretty nose. Not even the shiny dark eyes narrowing in speculation as I stand speechless.
I know I’m staring and I need to look away or say something, anything to not seem like a creep, but the power to do so has deserted me.
Although she has been on the periphery of my existence over the past three weeks, we’ve never exchanged words and I’ve never seen Faith until now. I only know she’s stopped by the house from the notes signed with an F that she leaves behind. At first, her mysterious appearance felt intrusive, but after discovering she was my mother’s hānai daughter, I had no room to argue.
I shake my head, trying to put a coherent thought together. With everything going on around me, I have no time to pursue anyone. Not when I’m still smarting from the desertion of the woman who almost made me believe in love again.
First my wife and then—
“Keoni?” Her throaty voice has a New York accent, though I can’t place which borough, and reminds me of the seconds passing without me saying a word. She licks lips that are in no need of moisture. Could she be attracted to me too? I shake the thought from my mind. I’m not here for her.
“Yes…I’m looking for Vivian. Is she here?”
“Vivian…Apikalia.” The question in her eyes clears and with it the beginning haze of desire I have no business wanting to see. She pinches her lips letting me know I’ve done something wrong, though for the life of me I can’t imagine what. “Yes, she’s in the backyard keeping my cat company. I’ll take you to her.”
I remove my slippers as I enter her house, a new irritation growing inside me. I can’t put my finger on why, but I sense she isn’t my biggest fan. I shrug off the sensation.
Evidence of partially unpacked moving boxes is in every room we pass, reminding me of my previous conversation with my uncle. “My neighbor said you moved here two years ago. How are you liking the island life?”
“A lot, really. It took some getting used to as I moved from the Bronx. As you can see, I haven’t found a place for all my stuff yet, but I have a system right now where I know what’s in each box.”
I nearly stumble when I hear where she’s from, but recover quickly.
What are the odds? There’s no way.
The Fayth I’ve known through letters spells her name with a Y. All this time I assumed the F my neighbor signed meant hers had the more common spelling.
I shake my head free of suspicions. The world may be small, but not enough for a coincidental meeting like this. The letters from the Fayth I knew had gotten me through the hardest heartache I’ve ever experienced. When I thought I was ready to try again with her despite the distance, she ghosted me. And she didn’t have the nerve to send me a real Dear John letter first.
We come to the French doors that open to her lānai and I can see Vivian petting and talking to a cat that probably weighs close to twenty pounds. This Faith pauses with her hand on the door handle.
“Look, I know this is probably the worst time to say this, but you aren’t the only one who lost someone.”
“You’re right. It’s none of your business.”
Faith turns glittering eyes on me. “You’re wrong. Apikalia is my business, has been since the moment she asked me if I had to move so far away because my daddy doesn’t love me either.”
I rear back from the metaphorical slap to my face.
Her eyes widen with guilt and she places her hand on my arm before snatching it away. Did a bolt travel through her as it did with me? My skin pulses. I yearn for another caress, no matter how brief.
She clears her throat. “I’m sorry, I know better than to let my emotions fly so freely. If you can’t tell, I’m very protective of her, and now that she’s lost the only constant presence in her life, I’m particularly sensitive to her needs.”
The words to cut her remain lodged in my throat because all my concentration is on the warmth emanating from the brief touch on my arm. As innocent as the physical connection was, it distracts me beyond reason. I like it and want her hand back on my arm where it belongs, although the tongue lashing she is holding back from issuing should rile me.
“It’s my job to look after her needs, not yours.”
“True, but you’ve been absent for most of Apikalia’s life and she needs you to try harder.”
“Her name is Vivian, and you have no idea what I do for her.”
“That’s fair. And I don’t need to know, but Apikalia does. From what she tells me, she doesn’t know if she can rely on you.”
“Listen, lady, butt out.” I storm by her into the yard while she dogs my heels. “I came for Vivian, not a lecture.”
Vivian peers up at the sound of my voice, and I can’t deny the uncertainty in her eyes or how tightly she grips the large cat to her chest. Shame washes over me at the second reminder today that I am failing my mother.
“Apikalia, amorcita, you’re squeezing Snugglepuss really tight.”
My neighbor’s voice runs down my back like warm molasses until I register the name and I freeze. One name is a coincidence. This cat isn’t.
“I’m sorry, Auntie.” Vivian leaks contrition and sets the feline down.
“What kind of cat is that?” The words barely leave the constriction of my throat.
Faith, who I’m suspecting is actually Fayth, eyes me warily. “Snugglepuss is my not-so-little Maine Coon.” She kneels and the cat goes to her.
“By any chance, is there a Y in your name?” My heartbeat nearly drowns out my words.
Her forehead furrows, but she responds with a hesitant, “…Yes. Most people don’t know that unless I tell them.”
Shit! This isn’t happening.
“Lucky guess,” I say as I pick Vivian up and book it to Fayth’s front door.
“Listen, I can stop by and help with the clean-up once everyone leaves,” her voice follows me outside.
“No need.” My throat almost closes at the end of my response. Without stopping to look back, I shut Fayth down. Right now I don’t care about being polite, not that I’ve paid too much attention to niceties during our interaction.
With the past three weeks dealing with my mother’s declining health, I have zero capacity to deal with the woman who ghosted me. I’m a coward. Rehashing the empty days and lonely nights where living without Fayth’s letters almost broke me worse than my wife’s betrayal.
Fayth Love is a danger I need to avoid if I’m going to survive living next door to her.
Not difficult at all.
I ignore the scoff that escapes my lips. Of course, I can resist her and everything she represents. I’m a marine.
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of A Test of Fayth. Want to know how long he holds out for? A Test of Fayth is up for pre-order now.
Because you deserve this and more
My Media Addiction
TV I'm watching: The Sandman. So, apparently, this was a comic? I’d never heard of it, but the show is great. I loved the diversity with powerful Black women and gender fluidity. The dream world spoke to my love of high fantasy because the visuals were so stimulating. This isn’t the show for eye candy, at least it wasn’t for me. But storytelling and the breaks in character archetypes did it for me. Also, it didn’t hurt that I felt like I was revisiting the show Lucifer, another entertaining watch. If you haven’t seen it yet, tots recommend.
Movies I've watched: Uncharted. Okay, I know I should be commenting on if this movie was entertaining or not, but I have to tell you I was distracted by one thing the entire film. Like, I know Tom Holland is a heartthrob. He’s got Zendaya on lock, the chiseled jaw, and the athleticism. But…where are his lips? I said it. Sorry, not sorry. I feel like I needed a magnifying glass because I spent the whole movie looking for my man’s mouth whenever he spoke. If you can’t tell, I love a good pair of lips. All that is to say, I’m not sure if I paid attention enough to like this movie. If you’ve seen it, what are your thoughts? Does it deserve a rewatch to properly assess or should I pass and find more actors with noticeably kissable lips?
What I read: Waylon. If you can’t tell by now, I love Theodora Taylor. She writes hot sex scenes and she has a way of drawing me into her stories that I forget to think how crazy the story actually is. Waylon was like this for me. I was immediately caught up and it wasn’t until after I read it and started reflecting that I was like, wait, did that actually happen? It wasn’t a book that I immediately had to reread (God knows she has a few that I’ve done that with), but it entertained me.
What I’m reading: Hidden Witness. Posey Parks is a new-to-me author. I just started and am reading while getting the last pieces of A Test of Fayth together so I can upload it to the Zon. I’ll get back to you on my findings, but so far there’s so much mystery surrounding the main character that I want to read more.
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