I know! I know! have been missing in action. I made a promise to you as readers that each week there would be a chapter posted. **long sigh** It has been a struggle for me to keep that promise. I am a mother, wife, full-time employee and author. Most days I can't remember what I had for breakfast by the time I eat dinner. Still, that is no excuse. I realize that when things get tough sometimes I retreat. I run away from myself and hide in a mental hiding place. It is a coward's way out. Things in my life have been up (for example my vacation to Jamaica!) and they have been down (the loss of a loved one who leaves a huge void in my life). Through it all, one thing remained the same...my passion for writing.
I say this all to make the point that there are no more excuses that will prevent me from finishing
1 Night Stand--the free novel I promised to you. No more excuses that will keep me from providing you with your weekly chapter. No more excuses that will keep me away from the one thing in my life that is always there when things get tough. MY WRITING!
Chapter 3---Lyric will be posted in a few days! Thank you for remaining loyal to this storyboard. I promise I will never let you down again.
Love,
Amaleka
Amaleka's Story Board
The purpose of this blog is to bring readers into my world of fiction. There will be a free chapter of my novels posted each week! How exciting! You get to read and I get to write! But best of all we get to meet! Enjoy!
Monday, August 06, 2012
Monday, June 25, 2012
1 Night Stand---Chapter 2 Melody
Here is chapter 2 of 1 Night Stand. You'll notice that this chapter is written in third person while chapter 1 is in first person. I'd like to get your feedback on which you like best. I think it will be fun to explore different methods. I'm interested in your feedback. Happy reading!
Chapter
2
Melody
Melody knew she was special from the time she
was a baby. Even strangers often told her, that she was a beautiful girl. She believed that one day, with her
looks and singing ability, she would be a huge star. As an adult, Melody
pursued that dream relentlessly until she topped all of the charts. She dedicated her life to her craft and
she excelled because she worked harder than any other diva in the industry.
It was during an early
morning rehearsal for her upcoming “1 Night Stand” tour that she received the
news about her mother. Gary, her
manager/BFF, came into her home dance studio, flailing his left hand
effeminately to get her attention. She was in the middle of a set for her
Billboard hit “Liar, Liar,” and she wasn’t about to stop. She was feeling the vibe and the backup
dancers had finally gotten their routine correctly after hours of coaching and
screaming. Melody ignored Gary and
rolled her eyes but he continued to wave like a little bitch.
Melody set her jaw and
twisted her hips to the swell of the music. Everybody knew that when Melody
Love rehearsed, the DO NOT DISTURB sign was turned on. Melody started to move into the next
set in her routine when Gary did that stupid, desperate hand motion again—only
this time he bounced on his legs like a child about to throw a tantrum. The mere sight of Gary was wreaking
havoc on her concentration.
Gary and Melody had been
friends since she’d gone solo. He knew firsthand how mercurial her moods could
be and how quickly her temper could flare.
Melody stopped rocking
her hips, kicked off her heels, and sighed loudly. She signaled Leslie, her assistant, to stop the music. She crinkled
her face into a hard scowl, letting Gary know he was about to get his ass
cussed out. He waved again, a
boyish grin spreading over his face.
Breathing hard, Melody
stomped over. “Gary! Are you
fucking serious right now?!” she barked before the idiot. He moved listlessly now, like he had to
pee. “You know damn well not to
disturb me while I’m rehearsing and in my zone! I was in my zone, Gary! Or did you fucking forget the tour is
really fucking close?!” Melody
snorted at him like a bull seeing red at a Spanish bullfight.
The look on his face gave
her pause. Gary was as pale as a piece of loose-leaf paper. His natural complexion was a high
yellow, but right now he looked plain ghostly. He was standing stiffly, like someone had put a rod up his
ass and not the way he liked it either.
The last time Gary looked this upset was when he had told Melody she’d
been turned down for the leading lady role in the movie version of Dream Girls,
beat out by her nemesis in the R&B world.
“Melody…we…we
need to…um…we need to talk,” Gary stammered out, his eyes roving over towards
her assistant and six dancers. “In
private,” he said in his stage whisper.
“Gary,
I am rehearsing! Do you or do you
not know the tour starts next week?!
This has to be perfect! I
have a reputation to maintain!” she hissed, yanking out the scrunchy that held
her long weave in a high, loose ponytail.
She smoothed her hands over her head and wrapped the scrunchy tighter
this time. Playing with her hair
had always been like a nervous tick.
She hated to show emotion, but Gary had her heart racing like a pack of
wild horses right now. He was obviously scared shitless about telling her the
news.
“It’s
your mother…I mean…Ava Love…” he stuttered. A hot feeling came over her. Just the mention of Ava’s name made her
sick to her stomach these days.
She was an embarrassment to say the least. Being associated with Ava was not good for her image or
career.
“Ava
Love? What now?” Melody sucked her
teeth, disgust painting her face into a mean mug. “Is that what the hell you
interrupted me for? To tell me some
dumb shit about Ava?” She had told
Ava six months ago that she didn’t want shit to do with her, even though she
still sent her a monthly allowance. Melody didn’t send her the money out of the
kindness of her heart, but more so to keep her away.
“Melody,
I know how you are about getting emotional in front of people, so why don’t we
step out of the studio and talk…in
private?” Gary implored. His
voice was high-pitched and quivering.
His eyes were bugged out like he was holding back his tears.
“This better be
important, Gary,” she whirled around.
“Ladies, take your steps
from the top. I have to take this
call and I’ll be right back. I
expect perfection!” Melody hollered at her dancers, a few of whom she knew she
would be firing because they either weren’t coordinated enough to dance or they
were too damn pretty and thus made her look less attractive in comparison. There would be no upstaging Melody
Love. When the cameras rolled, there could only be one shining star.
Melody
reluctantly followed Gary out of the dance studio doors and into the small
private changing room near her home dance studio. They stepped inside the room, the air stale and filled with
tension. Admittedly, her insides
were churning with curiosity and anxiety.
“Mel…you
might want to sit down, honey,” Gary said softly, his mouth sagging at the
edges.
“Just
tell me what’s going on Gary. I have a tour coming up. I don’t have time for another Ava
antic. How bad can it be? I mean shit; did she get drunk again
and make a spectacle of herself for the paparazzi? Did she go harass some record executive, screaming
about how great she once was? Or wait, let me guess, she got caught giving head
to another much younger NBA player? No, I have a better one! She’s gone to the Ritz and asked to be put up in the
presidential suite because she is the mother of Melody Love?” Any of these scenarios were highly
likely where her mother was concerned.
Although Melody was a big name in the music industry, she was still
embarrassed by her mother’s outrageously juvenile behavior.
“No
Mel…it’s worse, hun,” Gary murmured.
He lowered his head, wringing his fingers together. “Mel, Ava is dead,” Gary said in a rush
of breath. “I got the call from
Murray today,” he mumbled. Gary
hugged Melody around the shoulders. Her body was rigid and cold as ice. She
kept her arms down and did not return the embrace. His words felt like a strong stab in her gut. She set her jaw and pursed her lips. You better not cry Melody. Crying is for weak people. Crying is
not for the famous. She took a
deep breath, swallowed hard, and pushed Gary away. She felt a very painful, hard lump forming in her
throat. It took a few seconds
before she could speak.
“Is
that what you interrupted my rehearsal for?!” she growled, jutting a chastising
finger in Gary’s face. “Fucking
imbecile! Never interrupt me from
something as important as my tour unless Jesus lands in my backyard and wants
to sing a duet with me.
Understand?!” Melody screamed, her face filling with blood. Her chest was tight; it was difficult
to breathe. “Don’t sit your ass in here worrying about me! You have a job to
do, so go do it! You need to be out there promoting the 1 Night Stand tour. I have rehearsal to attend,” she
snapped, giving him her back.
“You
can front for everybody else, but I know you Melody Love! She is your mother and she is
dead! It’s okay to feel sad!” Gary
called out, his voice cracking.
Melody almost turned around and slapped the shit out of him, but she
resisted the temptation and kept walking.
“Your sisters will be
coming to town! You will have to
face them--like it or not Melody!” Gary fired back. His words made her pause. Melody felt a sharp pain in her heart, filled with fear and
remorse. She leaned against the wall to brace herself against the onslaught of
emotions. She really didn’t have
time today to think about any of those bitches from her past—mother or
sisters.
**********************
The last time Melody saw her sisters was the day
Ava and Murray announced that she would be going solo. She remembered the warm sense of
satisfaction that filled her chest as she watched her sisters’ defeated
expressions at the news.
“Just like that? She can leave us, just like that?”
Harmony’s lips quivered.
“You knew she was the
star from the beginning. You knew
this was coming…Supremes…Destiny’s Child…the star always leaves,” Ava responded
smugly, a sinister grin on her face.
Murray nodded his head in agreement.
“You just used us! All those practices…all of the things
we gave up. All so you could have
your favorite stand on our backs to make it to the top!” Lyric screamed, her
face a hot shade of red. She
stormed out of the studio, nearly smashing the glass pane in the door.
“Ava, I thought you
couldn’t stoop any lower than some of the shit you put us through in the name
of fame. But blindsiding us like
this is your new low. And you,
Melody, I guess it wasn’t enough that you were the top earner. It wasn’t enough that we lived in your
shadow. I guess none of that was enough for you – you had to have it all to
yourself!” Harmony accused.
Ava laughed maniacally at
Harmony’s outburst, turning her venom on her eldest daughter.
“Your ugly ass should be
grateful Melody let you stay in the group and get some fame! You should be kissing the ground she
walks on!” Ava spat cruelly.
Before anyone could
react, Harmony was on top of Ava like a lion on a gazelle. “I hate you! I hate you! I never want to see you
again!!” Harmony was devil-possessed; she screeched at her mother while biting,
clawing and kicking. “You ruined
my life! That wasn’t enough!
Nothing was ever enough for you!” Harmony growled. Ava screamed at the top of her lungs in agony. Murray tried
futilely to loosen Harmony’s grip on Ava’s hair.
It took four studio
security guards to get Harmony off of Ava. The fire flashing in Harmony’s eyes reflected pure,
unadulterated hatred.
“You will never prosper
this way,” Harmony huffed, her evil eyes trained on her sister as the security
guards dragged her from the room.
“You’re just jealous of
me—always have been, always will be,” Melody snarled. Melody felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and
a bad taste in her mouth. It was
the taste of regret. But once spoken, the words could not be taken back.
**************************
Melody returned to the rehearsal with a
renewed sense of purpose. She watched her dancers move in unison. It was an acceptable performance, but
not good enough. Melody wouldn’t
accept anything less than perfection.
“Let’s take it from the top!” she ordered, clapping her hands as she
made her way to the middle of the floor.
They all halted mid-step, as if she’d hit the pause button.
“Is everything okay, Ms.
Love?” Leslie asked.
“Start the fucking
music,” Melody snapped. How dare she question me! She snatched
the scrunchy out of her hair and shook her hair until it fell like a wild mane
around her shoulders. “Hut! Let’s
fucking go! No distractions and no more stopping. Period!” she called out as
she slipped into her stilettos.
All six dancers fell into line and proceeded to do the first set. Melody swung her head up and down,
gyrated her hips and moved to the music.
She got to the fourth count and suddenly her face hit the hardwood
floor. A sharp pain shot from her nose
straight up to her brain. She
could taste blood in the back of her throat and see small flashes of light
invading her peripheral vision.
“Oh my God!” Leslie’s
screeched. “Ms. Love! Are you
alright?!”
Melody opened her eyes
slowly, pain shooting through her skull. The dancers had all gathered around
her. Leslie bent down and helped
her to her feet. The pain
intensified as she stood.
“Ms. Love, I…I’m…so
sorry. My leg caught a cramp and I
almost fell. I didn’t mean to use
you to break my fall. Oh my God, I
am so, so sorry,” one of the dancers said apologetically.
“Are you ok?” Leslie
asked again. Melody blinked
rapidly as things started coming back into focus. Blood pooled under the skin near her eyes. A fucking broken nose a week before her
tour kicked off! The reality
caused a fury of white heat to rise from her toes to her chest. She squinted her eyes into little
dashes and looked at all of their faces.
The adrenaline coursing through her veins seems to numb the pain. Everyone in the room was seemingly
rooted to the floor, scared to death, as well they should be.
Melody calmly stepped out
of her stilettos, bending over to pick up a lone shoe, as if to examine the
heel. “I am fine,” she said in a
low growl. They all looked relieved. “Yes, I am perfectly fine,” she said
more calmly. Before anyone could move, she spun around and drove the five-inch
heel right into the guilty dancer’s head.
The girl emitted a blood-curdling scream. Melody raised the high-heeled shoe over her head and hit the
girl over and over, like hammering a nail into a piece of wood. Blood was everywhere. Tears ran down her face like a gushing
stream. Spit escaped her mouth and
sweat drenched her forehead and back. She could taste the girl’s blood as it
splattered against her lips.
“You’re going to kill her!” someone in the room screamed. But the only sound Melody heard was the
pounding of her own heart.
Monday, June 11, 2012
1 Night Stand--Chapter 1 Harmony
Chapter
1
Harmony
I
was never one to dream. As a kid,
I would wake up each morning trying desperately to remember my dreams but I
never could. This morning was
different. I jolted awake, my mind
flooded with images and scenes so clear it was like a movie playing in my
head. The ringing. The loud ringing was what jarred me awake. I was running fast from something. So fast I could feel the wind whipping
over my face. I was running for my
life. My chest heaved up and
down. And then an obstacle blocked
my path. A large, tarnished brass
bell prevented me from running any further. The footsteps behind me progressed from rapid taps to
gallops. It was hot on my heels
and closing in. Whipping my body around frantically, I saw a shadow of a figure.
I had no choice. I forged ahead towards the bell. It was my last resort and only
possible hiding place. I ran under
it and stood perfectly still. The
strong smell of old metal and mildew settled in my nostrils. Chills covered my body but I wouldn’t
be deterred. Inside the brass, the
whirring sound of the tarnished gong came alive. It began to rock slowly at first, creaking like it needed a
good oiling. The half-hour ringing mark was upon me. Desperate to escape, I dodged to my left as I seemed to be the
gong’s intended target. The pain
in the center of my ear radiated through my skull. Instinctively, I lifted my hands to cover my ears. It hit again and I fell into a black
abyss.
Squinting my eyes, I reached over and grabbed
for the ringing nuisance on my nightstand.
“Hello,” my gruff, sleep-filled
voice droned into the receiver. I
could hear a male voice, but with my mind still fuzzy with sleep, I could not
register the speaker’s identity. The fact that a male was even calling my house
was strange in itself. My husband’s
few male friends almost never called our house.
I
sat up straight and opened my eyes wide when I was able to identify the caller.
It was Murray Fleischer, a long
time associate of Ava Love, my mother.
I hadn’t spoken to Ava in three long years. Why would he be
calling me?
Murray cleared his raspy
throat and inquired in his nasally, New Jersey-Jew accent, “Is this still
Harmony Love’s residence?” A flash
of panic overcame me. Inadvertently,
my eyes darted over to the cable box; it was 4:20 in the morning. The pre-dawn light from the window cast
an eerie glow over my small bedroom.
“Yes,
this is she,” I answered. Listening to Murray’s labored breathing, I pictured
his beady eyes, wrinkled Olive colored skin, dead-rat looking toupee, and
Ichabod Crane nose. I couldn’t
help the feeling of resentment that sprang up inside of me. Murray had been a part of our life when
everything had gone awry. I often blamed
Murray for the events that transpired, but he certainly wasn’t the only
culprit.
“Oh Harm…I’m so glad to
know this is still your number. I
really thought I was going to have a hard time finding you. Ava Love really had high hopes for
you. She really loved you. As her eldest, she always bragged about
you. You know despite everything,
I always knew you were the smartest one…”
Murray’s rambling, fake-ass
small talk had always irritated me. Along with the fact that he was a snake in
the grass who helped Ava rob my sisters and I blind.
“Cut the shit, Murray. What
do you want? Is Ava okay?” We didn’t need to exchange pleasantries and he
didn’t need to go on and on about how much my mother cared about me. We both knew he was full of shit.
Murray was silent for
what seemed liked an eternity. He let out a long sigh and a short snort. Is
he crying? My fingertips grew cold as I gripped the phone. My stomach
quivered in anticipation of the bad news that would surely follow. After all,
Murray wouldn’t be calling me otherwise.
“Murray? Out with it!”
“Well, Harmony, you were
the first person I called,” he blew out another windstorm. I could hear him choking on his words. “I really didn’t know who else to call. You know your sisters are both…” Murray
nervously tiptoed around the subject.
Did he realize it was four o’clock in the morning? “Please
Murray, just tell me what’s going on,” I interrupted, wishing he would put us
both out of our misery.
Finally,
Murray mustered up the courage and got straight to the point.
“When?” I asked in an
almost inaudible tone, the words caught in my throat like fish in a net. I swallowed hard. My heart pounded through my silk
nightgown. I was on my feet and
pacing the floor. The temperature
in the room seemed to have dropped drastically. My bottom lip trembled and I had to fight to keep my teeth
from chattering.
With a flash of clarity,
it occurred to me that Ava didn’t have my new contact information. How had Murray
gotten my number? I shook my head
and quickly rid the suspicious thoughts from my mind. Paranoia and suspicion were my natural defense mechanisms,
but this was not the time or place for them to take root.
Murray provided me with all the details,
none of which I cared to know. I felt like I was slipping off the slope of a
tall mountain. I looked down at my
husband who slept soundly. His chest rose and fell, peacefully oblivious to the
chaos of my thoughts and emotions; I envied him greatly.
“Murray,”
I said unsteadily. “Thank you for calling me. I know things weren’t…I know Ava
and me had…I appreciate you not letting me find out from the television or
media. I will be there as soon as
I can,” I promised. My brain
wasn’t connecting with my tongue as usual. I tried my best to keep it together,
but my voice cracked on the last sentence. Crying over Ava was not something I thought I’d ever do, but
the tears still came fast and hot down my cheeks. She was, after all, my mother.
I
placed the phone back into the cradle with shaky hands. My body flopped down on the side of the
bed like a sack of bricks; the strength seemed to have left my legs entirely. My abrupt motion caused Ron to
stir. I quickly turned my body
away, giving him my back. I didn’t
want him to see me cry. I don’t
know why I was hiding from my husband, who was also my best friend. Ron had never been anything but
supportive of me since we met three years earlier. If it hadn’t been for our relationship, neither of us would
have survived the crises we experienced when we first met.
“Harm? What you doin’ up?” Ron asked groggily.
He reached out to embrace me from behind and I cringed. Giving and receiving affection was
still something I struggled with.
I suppose a childhood of no love and affection will do that to a
person.
“W’sup
Harm?” Ron asked again, touching my back gently. My shoulders quaked slightly and I hid my face with my hands. I didn’t have to see Ron’s face to know
that he was alarmed. The bed
depressed as he propped himself up on his elbow, gazing at my curved back.
“Harmony…what
is it? Is the baby okay?” Ron
asked, slightly alarmed. I opened
my wet eyes and stared at the floor.
My conscience was riddled with guilt. If only I had seen her
one last time and told her how I felt. If only she had been a
normal mother. I should have been
a better daughter. The sobs
escaped my lips freely. I couldn’t
help it. Within seconds, Ron was in
front of me on his knees. He
continued to ask me what was wrong as he tugged my hands from my face. I wanted him to hold me. I moved my hands and looked at his
beautiful, cinnamon face. Concern
filled his beautiful brown eyes. I
opened my mouth but the words seemed to stick like hard marbles in the back of
my throat. Ron shook my shoulders
slightly, encouraging me to open up to him.
“C’mon
Harm, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me w’sup,” he urged. The heat from his arms soothed me, but
it still wasn’t enough to warm my chilled body.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I
began. “My mother…um…Ava…” Just
saying the word mother burned on my tongue.
I felt Ron’s muscular
body tense at the mention of Ava.
He was one of the very few people, aside from my sisters, who knew the
truth about Ava. “What the hell
she do now?” Ron asked, interrupting me.
His voice took on a dark tone.
He knew all about my relationship with Ava, none of it good. I shook my head from left to
right.
“No. Nothing. It’s…she…Ava…she…I mean…she’s…dead,” I managed to croak out,
my bottom lip trembling. I never
expected to have such a visceral reaction to her death. I must have wished her
dead a thousand times while she lived.
“Oh
shit!” Ron gasped. At a loss for words, he simply hugged me. I leaned into his body, so close I
could feel his chest hairs pricking me.
It felt so good to have someone like Ron by my side. I melted into my husband’s tight
embrace and neither of us said a word.
I closed my eyes and let Ava’s image come into focus in my mind—her
butterscotch skin, long, silky black hair, and her eyes—those famous, deep-set,
glaring, chestnut brown eyes.
There was so much to think about, so many emotions to sort through. As hard as I tried to put my past to
rest, Ava’s death seemed to reawaken memories and emotions that I believed long
dead.
**************
It was the summer of 1998 in Brooklyn, New York,
and I was thirteen years old. My sisters, Melody and Lyric, were twelve and
nine respectively. Our musically
inspired names were indicative of the fact that our mother, the great Ava Love,
related everything in her life to
music, even her children. It was a
blazing hot summer day and we had been outside in our backyard from five
o’clock in the morning. The sun burned brightly at this early hour and we knew
it would be one of those unmercifully hot summer days.
After fifteen minutes
outside, I was already sweating. Without a doubt, this would spell disaster for
my thick, kinky hair. My hair was
already folding in on itself to form what Ava referred to as “nigger naps.” I knew
my mother would have something degrading to say about my hair not being soft
and silky like hers, about how she can’t figure out why I have such nappy-ass
hair like a runaway slave. Ava
thought these harsh criticisms made her sassy and sophisticated. I always
believed it made her appear crude and racist. I guess it was the time and place
she’d grown up in that made her so disdainful of her own people. Ava had left South Carolina for New York
when she was twelve and had never looked back.
Generally, the darker
your skin was, the worse Ava felt about you. Unfortunately, my skin was as dark as coffee beans. Under
the summer sun, I would become at least three shades darker. I never had a chance to consider my
black beautiful, not with Ava as a mother. “Harmony…child you look like a underground railroad
escapee. Stay your ass out of the
sun before we have to use your teeth to find you in the dark,” she’d say
cruelly. It was just one of the reasons I dreaded the summertime when most kids
looked forward to it.
Just the day before our
forced rehearsal, the news had announced a heat wave sweeping through New York
City. “Well if the heat wave
starts at nine in the morning, y’all asses will be out there from five,” Ava
had announced. Sure enough, she kicked us out of our beds at five o’clock sharp
the next morning.
My mother, who made us
call her by her first name instead of “mom” or “mommy,” was a royal bitch and
sorry excuse for a mother. I hated the sight of her every single day.
“Start
over!” Ava screamed like a banshee, her fair skin turning bright pink. She folded her arms across her chest
and glared at my sisters and me.
We all stopped mid-motion and turned towards her. We had been practicing for four hours,
with no breakfast or lunch in our stomachs. Lyric whimpered, her feet struggling to stay in the
over sized stilettos. Even Lyric,
my baby sister was only nine years old, Ava made us all practice in five-inch
heels.
“You
bitches wanna be stars or you wanna be in the same position next year?! Practice makes perfect. Y’all think any great girl groups got
to the top of the charts laying around and not practicing hours and hours? Hell no! It don’t work like that! These record labels ain’t gonna
even sneeze at ya’ll asses if y’all don’t step the fuck up and get it right!
Now start over!” Ava barked, pacing like a prison warden in front of us, her
heels clicking on the backyard pavers.
I squinted my eyes into dashes. I couldn’t believe this monster had
given birth to me. The only thing
that ever made me proud to say she was my mother was the admiration I got from
other kids in our neighborhood for being Ava’s daughter. Everyone thought Ava was a beautiful
star of a mother.
Ava
was stunningly gorgeous in a regal Lena Horne mixed with Dianne Carol sort of
way. She had a blemish free
complexion and butterscotch colored skin.
Her eyes were striking, both slanted and deep set. She had perfect heart-shaped lips and
even after three kids, her body was still a shapely hourglass, boasting a flat
stomach and cellulite-free legs.
Ava never left the house without a full face of flawlessly applied makeup. Her hair was naturally long and most of
the time she wore it in a regal chignon, only letting it hang when she went on
a date. Ava preached that real
women always wore heels and makeup.
Ava never wore flats or sneakers; instead, she donned the most fabulous
stilettos and pumps. Her shoe
collection could give Emelda Marcos a challenge.
In the late 70’s early
80’s, she had been the great Ava Love, a chart topping disco diva. Ava graced every major stage in every
major city in the United States, but she never got any further than an opening
act for disco queen Donna Summer. Getting
knocked up with me had dashed her dreams and changed her life for the
worse. And she never failed to
remind me of the burden of my existence.
“Get
back into position right now or we’ll be out here until the sun cooks ya’ll
asses dead! Lord knows if Harmony
bakes anymore we won’t be able to see her ass at night!” Ava growled. I hung my head. Those words hurt like a
hard slap in the face. I rolled my
eyes and bit into the side of my cheek as I reached down and rubbed the calf
muscle on my left leg. I could
literally feel my muscle bunch into a ball, an advanced warning of the Charlie
horse that would surely follow. I
punched at my muscle, praying the knot would dissolve.
“You better get up,” my
little sister Lyric whispered, her eyes as big as dinner plates. She knew what
Ava’s wrath was like—the black and blue on her left cheek constant proof.
We had all given up our
childhoods to become “the greatest girl singing group since the Supremes.” Ava didn’t allow us to go swimming because
it would ruin our chest muscles and voice boxes. She didn’t allow us to eat
candy because a rough piece might pierce our throat muscles or ruin our pristine
smiles. We ate only salads and
very lean meat because we all needed to be perfectly proportioned. Fat girls,
after all, would never make it in the music industry. We never went to the movies or amusement parks—these were a
waste of our time and a strain on our voices. Forget the zoo, class trips, and eventually school. We were
all home schooled by a lady Ava hired while she was on the road trying to
breathe life back into her own fading career. I was thirteen and had only attended public school for three
years before my mother pulled me out. Melody and Lyric never had a chance to
attend school and meet other kids their age. We had no friends, but we did have each other and our music.
On
cue, I slid my foot back into the stilettos and gritted my teeth against the
pain. For what seemed like the
thousandth time that morning, Ava looked at us evilly and ordered, “From the
top! Five, six, seven, eight…” Like show dogs, we responded instinctively to
the commands. We moved
rhythmically, swaying our hips seductively in unison. I was painfully aware of strained muscles in my legs and was
careful to not twist my ankle.
We harmonized the
interlude three times before Melody came blazing through the middle, one leg
forcefully jutted in front of the other in her model-on-the-cat-walk-style. Her
stilettos rang like gunshots on the backyard pavers. Melody was younger than me but much thinner and taller. I
suppose she took after her father. My sister was beautiful and talented and of
the three sisters, she resembled Ava the most. It was both a blessing and a curse.
Melody had very slanted
eyes, coupled with honey-colored, radiantly clear skin. Her body was slim but curvaceous. Even after horrendous practices, when Melody’s
oval face gleamed with fine beads of sweat, she still looked beautiful. Her long, sandy hair, wiped around as
she sang and she could move her body like a grown woman. She strutted in those stilettos like
she had been born in them. I
envied her greatly for her effortless beauty and grace but I also loved her dearly
since she’d been my only friend since her birth. With each practice, however,
the strain on our relationship was almost more difficult to bear than that on
our muscles.
Melody’s
red painted lips were pursed into a seductive kissing position and she licked
them and opened them wide. I could
see her in the large mirror Ava kept in front of us so we could see how we
looked. I rolled my eyes
again. At that moment, I couldn’t
love my sister if I tried. Lately, she was acting more like Ava than herself. I
moved my body harder, trying to imitate her moves. The heat of envy rose onto
my face like a red mask setting my cheeks on fire. I wanted to impress our mother too. But Ava’s eyes remained steadfastly focused
on her favorite.
“I
don’t love you no more! Boy you
played me for the last time!” Melody belted out in a range that could hold
court with any superstar. “I…I…I
don’t love you no more! Nooo! You played me for the last time!”
Melody crooned, the microphone gripped tightly in her hand as she whipped her
hair and body like a diva. She bent
forward and sang her next note like her life depended on it. With the next bar of the instrumental
music, she fell back into step with me and Lyric. We all stepped sideways in unison, our hips moving together
like soldiers in formation. Ava smiled,
pride in her eyes. I rolled my
eyes and bit my bottom lip against the pain—both in my leg and in my
heart.
“For
the last time!” Lyric and I harmonized, stepping back into our rightful places
behind our newly dubbed superstar sister.
Sweat dripped down my back, the sun was beating down even more fiercely
now. I lifted my arms up and then
out and my muscles burned. I
looked over at Lyric. She was also
wincing from the pain. Still, we
picked up our cue and harmonized yet another note, swayed our bodies in
opposite directions and fell into step with Melody who was out in front of us
again reveling in the spotlight.
“Harmony! You missed that entire step!” Ava
chastised loudly over the music. I
kept on going. I jerked my back
and sashayed as hard as I could.
Lyric and I crossed each other and did our rehearsed parts. I never let Ava’s voice ruffle me. I knew Ava’s dirty tactics by now. I also knew I hadn’t missed any steps; this
was just several of her “tests” to make sure we were able to handle any
distractions from the audience. If I paused in response to Ava’s distraction,
she surely would’ve gone off the deep end and made us start from the beginning.
Lyric
was panting like she only had one lung and I felt so sorry for her. I could tell that her mouth was cotton
ball dry because mine felt the same.
Finally, Melody held her last high note, slung her head back and lifted
her arms Dream Girls style. Ava
clapped and smiled with pride.
“Bravo,
Melody! This apple didn’t fall far
from my tree for sure,” Ava complimented.
“Those other two…we gotta work on them,” she snickered as Melody basked
in her praise. I could feel my
insides on fire. Ava never gave
Lyric and me compliments.
“Good enough for
today. Everybody go inside and get
some tea and honey right away.
Rest those voices, especially you little diva,” Ava called out, patting
Melody on her shoulder. I let out
an exasperated sigh, kicked off my shoes, and limped over to an old, rickety
patio chair in our small backyard.
All of the patio furniture had been purposely crowded to one side to
make space for our “stage.” As hot
as it was, I was in no rush to go into the house and listen to Ava critique my
appearance or performance.
Lyric
took a chair next to me as we watched Ava and Melody disappear into the house,
laughing like two school friends.
I often wondered if Lyric was too young to understand what was really
going on, but sometimes she seemed quite intuitive. I’d hoped to spare her
feelings in regards to my mother and Melody, but sometimes the bias was too
obvious to dispute.
“I
can’t stand her,” Lyric pouted. I
raised my eyebrow at her. “Mothers
are not supposed to favor one kid over the other one, but Ava sure doesn’t hide
it. Melody this…Melody that. Why don’t she just make her a solo
singer then. I hate singing and I
hate her too,” Lyric complained, folding her arms across her chest.
Lyric caught on quickly. I couldn’t agree with Lyric more, yet I
didn’t voice my opinion about it. Why
rub salt into an already opened wound?
“She
just wants us to be great. One day
all of these practices will pay off when we all make it to the big stage,” I
said, smiling as I leaned back and looked up at the sky dreamily. Lyric wasn’t buying it. She sucked her teeth and blew out her
breath. I knew she was probably
thinking I sounded like a sell out.
“Look, you’re too young
to understand her right now, but she loves you Lyric,” I tried to assure with a
phony smile plastered to my face.
Lyric looked over at me out of the corner of her eye and I could see the
doubt in her eyes. I felt the same
level of doubt in my heart but I reached out and hugged my baby sister
anyway. Even if our mother didn’t
love us the way she would, at least we had each other.
*****************
It seemed like Ron had been holding me in his
arms for an eternity. Finally, I
pulled away. My tears had dried
into two ashy lines on my face.
Ron smiled and used his thumb to wipe away the tear marks. “I love you, Harmony, this is going to
be alright,” he comforted. I
smiled back. “I know. I just …I just have to be prepared to
see my sisters again after everything that’s happened,” I said sadly. Ava’s death wasn’t going to be the hard
part. Facing Melody and Lyric after three long years of having no communication
was going to be the challenge. If
I could purchase a mental suit of armor, I would. Considering my last encounter
with my sisters, I would need that and more.
1 Night Stand Cover!!
I am so excited! Let me hear your feedback! Chapter 1 will be posted today. Be sure to join the blog for updates on the weekly chapter posts.
Saturday, June 09, 2012
1 Night Stand (Book 1 of the Sister's Love Series)
As promised, I will be posting a chapter a week from my new FREE novel "1 Night Stand." This is the first book in the Sister's Love series. Here is the synopsis
I hope you're looking forward to it as much as I am looking forward to posting it! Give me some feedback.
Until the first chapter.
Stay Blessed,
Leka
Three sisters, one music group, and
a past filled with a thousand secrets.
Sister’s Love
was a chart topping girl group that had it all—fame, fortune and failure. Harmony, Melody and Lyric haven’t
seen each other since their group broke up three years earlier, but when
tragedy strikes the sisters have no choice but to face each other again.
Harmony, who retreated from the limelight years ago, lives a
modest life in the suburbs with her new husband—an ex-child star and recovering
drug addict. Harmony wants nothing more than to be a wife and mother.
Melody, who abandoned her sisters for a solo career, is now
a wealthy mega-star who tours the world, buys whatever her heart desires and lives
in the spotlight. Melody would
stop at nothing to ensure that she always gets whatever she wants, even if
money can’t buy it.
Lyric, although once a part of a chart topping group and now
the baby sister of a superstar, has become a B-list celebrity desperately
trying to make it back to the top.
Lyric lives for the rush of the nightlife and would do anything or
anyone just to get the public attention she once received.
Will the sisters let their forced reunion rekindle past hurt,
lies, and deceit or will they try to put it all behind them and be a family
once and for all before new lies and jealousies creep in and takes hold of their
fragile relationships?
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