It's another Fab Friday and today's featured author is Danyelle Scroggins. She's here to share her novel, Enduring Love. The plans of our lives don't always align with the plans of God. When we become lost in our thoughts and plans, the Lord has a way of bringing things back to reality. Read on...

No one ever truly realizes the power of their love, until love is tested and they have to endure things unimaginable and sometimes hurtful. And if the truth is declared, no one wants to but…
Sometimes we find ourselves standing in the test of love, and this is exactly where Priscilla Marshall finds herself. Married to Steven since she graduated college, together they were the perfect couple. Both making successful business moves, both loved their choices, but one had a secret that could change their lives.

Priscilla, now forced to make a plan to secure her future, finds out that a plan without God involved is not a plan at all because “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails” (Proverbs 19:21).

What will God use to make this woman’s plan come full circle with His own, and after the test, will they find that they truly do have an Enduring Love?

Priscilla is the wife of Steven Marshall and the owner of Marshall’s Mortgage. She’s too wise for her own good and has decided that instead of exposing her husband, she would rather clean him dry and leave the marriage. Her plan seems to be going just fine until Priscilla gets the shock of her life.
Now confused, she attends the Love Never Fails retreat in Loving, Texas hosted by her college friend and roommate, Serafine. Priscilla finds out that no plan will ever work outside of God’s plan which will always prevail. And this causes her to determine if she and Steven truly have an Enduring Love.
 
“Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil.”
1 Corinthians 13:4-5

Priscilla reasoned why God would choose her to be the carrier of life. Married for almost fifteen years, sexual pleasures only happened on special occasions. Often without romance, and starting with a touch here, feel there, and a real quick release on his part. The thought of making a baby vanished long ago.

In reality, indecisiveness plagued her like a severe toothache regarding being a wife or instead, being his wife. Her mind and ambitions settled on being the audacious executive she fancied herself. Relinquishing all thoughts of motherhood, that were now nowhere in the plan.
Many are the plans of man…but it is the Lord’s plans that prevail.

Dr. Thorpe’s private practice became her haven, the place where swift answers and solutions to her most pressing issues materialized. Today, he acted as the grim reaper delivering death-blows instead of solutions. Death to her plans, dreams, and her one hundred and thirty-five-pound figure. She worked hard for her body, and to destroy it for a child neither of them wanted put her in a complete stupor. 
      
As she sat in a makeshift gown barely covering her breasts, Priscilla sighed. Moving to get more comfortable on the green leather table-bed covered with a sheet of wrinkled white paper, she felt hopeless. Priscilla swung her legs as though they could propel her into another space in time. She took a deep breath. Lumps in her throat seemed to suffocate her and caused her to give in to the explosive stream of tears cascading down her face.

How am I going to care for a child in the midst of running a company? Marshall’s Mortgage a premier mortgage company and her baby, her purpose that bequeathed her employees who became family. A creative concept and idea birthed right after leaving college with a degree in accounting and nourished with intensity and integrity. The thought of leaving it with anyone for more than a day or two frightened her. Because of this baby, she would have no choice.

“Priscilla? Are you alright?” Dr. Thorpe inquired.

Startled by his voice and still confused, she hadn’t noticed his return. “Dr. Thorpe, I’m not alright. This pregnancy is so unexpected. I thought maybe the flu or a virus. But this? I took a darn pill every day since Steven and I married. They’re supposed to prevent this. I don’t understand how it could happen,” she responded with a pant and sniffle between words.
      
“I’ve been an OB doctor for well over twenty years, and I promise I see women who swear they took their birth-control pill on time and still got pregnant. I know you are quite familiar with God and His work. And, I consider us close friends so I can say this.”
 
Priscilla nodded.

“No matter what and how we try, we can never abort the plans of God. He knows this child is going to gain a complete knowledge of Him. The Father chose you and Steven to protect, nurture, and train him or her in the way they should go. Priscilla instead of the questions why and how be excited, and grateful God chose you.”

“I don’t feel like this is something I want to do. I don’t even know if I can do it.”

“Talk to Steven about this before you make any rash decisions. If you want my opinion, I believe you can do all things through Christ. Priscilla, He will strengthen you. Could this baby be the next president or a future author? Who knows? But one thing is for sure, you will never know if you don’t allow this child the opportunity to be presented to the world.” As Dr. Thorpe patted Priscilla on the shoulder he continued, “Now, you can get dressed. Here’s a little baggy with goodies in it like prenatal vitamins, iron pills, and a couple of packages of ointment for your skin to prevent stretch marks.”

“I guess. I sure would prefer some more birth control and condoms, but since it is what it is, my choice doesn’t matter. Gotta find a way to accept what God allowed. Thank you for my goodies.” She smirked, acknowledging the brown paper bag in her hand.

"Exactly.  Now get dressed. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Priscilla slid off the table, pulled the paper gown off, and glanced at herself in the mirror over the sink. She retrieved her panties, skirt, shirt, scarf, and blazer from behind the dressing area and in slow motion began to dress. Fully clothed, she threw the paper gown in the trash and peered at herself once again.

Noticing the trail of tear stains on her cheeks, she snatched a couple of the brown napkins from the dispenser. Priscilla turned on the faucet, wet the napkins, and wrung out the excess water before washing her face. She reapplied her makeup to restore the picture of perfection before she’d received the shock of her life. Priscilla’s mind drifted to the man who refused to pull out in time.

Steven warned her on rare occasions during sex God would not punish him for spilling his goods on the ground. He did what she cautioned him not to do. And now this. She felt upset, and by her book, had every right to be. Although being upset would not solve anything, at least having somewhere to direct her anger could bring relief. The more she thought of Steven, the angrier she got. So much she answered, “What?”, when Dr. Thorpe knocked on the door.

“Here’s the reminder of your next appointment date.” Even though she didn’t respond, he continued.

“On your next visit, you’ll have an ultrasound to determine the around about day of conception. We would like to get as close as possible to the date of conception so the little person won’t have to be in his or her mother’s womb a day or hour longer than needed”. 

At least he’s not like other doctors acting as if they could specify the date of conception to the tee. Heck, I know precisely when Steven bombarded his way into my private space.

After hugging Dr. Thorpe without saying one word, she gathered her stuff, walked out the room into the waiting area, and nodded goodbye to nurse Carol. Retrieving her keys from the bottom of her champagne colored Steve Madden bag, she sighed. Put your big girl panties on Priscilla.

Her navy wool blazer did little to protect her body from the sharp piercing Louisiana wind. Instinctively, she draped her beautiful pink multicolored scarf around her neck and used the excess fabric to cover her head. Moving in swift strides, with hopes of keeping as warm as possible, Priscilla pushed the button on her keychain to her convertible BMW 435i.

She opened the door, placed the brown bag of goodies in the backseat, then climbed into her car. After securing the locks and her seatbelt, Priscilla searched through her car’s artist collection for some music to minister to her broken spirit. She selected Marvin Sapp’s “Here I Am.” “Come on, Pastor Marvin, convince me please God has His hands on and around me,” she mumbled as the song began to play. “God, I know You will provide for me. This is Your will.”

Invasive tears cascaded down her face ruining her makeup again. This time she decided not to repair, because instead of going back to her office, Priscilla drove towards home. With a quick push of the phone button on the radio console, she instructed the voice-activated operator to dial her office. After the third ring, a female voice answered.

“Good afternoon, Marshall’s Mortgage. How may we be of service to you?”

Regina answered with professional charm because Priscilla would have it no other way. Greetings were Priscilla’s pet peeves. She desired warm and friendly interactions with her staff and demanded the same for the clients at Marshall’s Mortgage.
      
“How are you?” Priscilla asked Regina Jones, the best assistant and secretary ever. She valued her because she only instructed her once for anything and it happened.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Marshall. How did your appointment go? You sound a little different.”

“We will talk about it later, Regina. Right now I’m too weak even to hear myself explain it. Nothing too serious, so don’t get all worried. But it’s enough to alter my emotions.”

“Okay, I understand. But it won’t stop me from praying for you.”
 
“Thank you. While you are at it, ask God if He’s sure He picked the right person?”

“You know they say ‘nothing just happens,' so if God allowed, He will provide with all the provisions you’ll need. Are you coming back to the office today?”
       
“That’s why I called. I think I better go home and lie down. The doctor’s appointment drained me, and if I do not get some rest, I might hurt someone. Would you please phone all of my afternoon clients, apologize for me canceling, and reschedule them for Monday?”
      
“Yes, ma’am. I pray you feel better. I will only call you if anything comes up I cannot handle and I’ll tell all of your originators what’s going on.”
      
“Thank you. I appreciate you. And Regina, please don’t disclose or share concerning my doctor’s appointment. I’m not asking you to lie, but find a unique way to explain the cancellations to my clients and the staff.”
      
“Sure and you’re welcome.” Priscilla motioned to move the phone from her ear when she heard, “Mrs. Marshall!”          

“Yes, Regina?”
      
“Get some rest, please!”
      
“I will.” Priscilla smiled at the demand.

“See you soon, Mrs. Marshall.”

Danyelle is the Senior Pastor of New Vessels Ministries North in Shreveport, Louisiana, who is a dynamic author of both Christian fiction and non-fiction books. She studied Theology at Louisiana Baptist University, has a Psychology Degree from the University of Phoenix, an Interdisciplinary Degree in Psychology /Biblical Studies, and a Master’s in Religious Education from the Liberty University. She owns Divinely Sown Publishing LLC and is an avid reader. She is the wife of Pastor Reynard Scroggins and the mother of three.

To find out more about Danyelle Scroggins the pastor or author, and her ministries, visit www.danyellescroggins.com, www.newvesselministries.org, www.facebook.com/danyellescroggins, or www.twitter.com/PastorDanyelle.

Website & Blog: www.danyellescroggins.com
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A beautiful story of love between a man and a woman. Photographer Kennedy Holloway has changed her life, and is now pursuing her first love in a career of creating beautiful art from behind the lens of a camera. A freelance photographer for Courtside Magazine, she’s begun rubbing elbows with some of the NBA’s elite players. Running from heartache and disappointment, she’s come to the end of the road when she meets Atlanta Cobras’, Elias Dacosta.

Touted as the NBA’s #1 shooting guard and designated all-around ladies’ man, Elias’ private life is off limits to the paparazzi. No one really knows the man off the court, and he’s blocking every attempt from anyone getting too close, until he meets Kennedy on assignment. Her attempts to hide behind the camera only piques his interest further. He won’t rest until he wins at the game of love.
​
Follow Kennedy and Elias through three years of ups and downs, as they learn about one another and themselves. Deemed to be the “perfect couple,” Kennedy’s past rises up as a barrier between them. Will a lesson in sacrificial love keep the two of them apart, or will it be the bond that they need to bring them together again?

Finishing her last shot of the night, Kennedy had packed her bags away in her trunk. Tired, she had decided she was going home after capturing the last shots. The entire day had been spent running errands for her paternal grandmother, developing photos for a family she had recently taken family portraits of, and working on her own website.

She returned to get something to drink, when she heard the announcement about a new neo-soul band that she had been wanting to check out. Despite being tired, at the last minute, she chose to stay at the café, since she had nothing else to do. It would be a break from the monotony that had become her life. Most days she came home after work to develop photos, and when she finished that she would sit in front of the TV and veg out or read a good book.

Outside of her photography, Kennedy loved a good book and music. Her favorite music artists were Ledisi, India Arie, Kindred and the Family Soul, Floetry, and Lucy Pearl. Tonight’s featured groups included, Eggs and Toast, a pop band, and a neo soul group she had heard much about, RohoMalkia.

Their name, which meant Soul Queen in Swahili, was meant to empower and uplift black men and women alike. As important as they believed it was for women to be powerful, they also believed it was just as important to lift and support the black man, to keep the black community and families strong. Kennedy connected with that deep within her soul, because her family had failed all around.

“Thanks,” Kennedy stated, grabbing her cup of chai tea and fruit salad from the café attendant at the bar.

Smiling, she maneuvered her way through the growing Friday night crowd. Chairs were filled up with a few empty seats here and there. Couples and a few individual people danced on the floor in front of the stage. Kennedy spotted a free space near the tinted windows to the left of the stage, and quickly made her way there. Sitting down in the empty club chair, she set her food and mug on the table.

The fast, upbeat tunes made its way throughout the café, as she enjoyed her small meal. After a big lunch, she decided to go light on her dinner. Fruit and tea were the perfect recipe to keep her feeling light tonight.

Snapping her fingers to the frenetic, fast-paced beat, she enjoyed the atmosphere. The rhythm made her want to be wild and free in the outdoors. An hour had passed in no time, and Kennedy was feeling extremely relaxed.

A café attendant had come by and replaced her mug of tea, with a glass of white wine. She had placed the order earlier when she had paid for her fruit and tea. Laid back in the comfortable chair, she applauded with everyone else, as RohoMalkia came onto the stage.

Their reputation proceeded them, and she looked forward to what they had to offer. She wasn’t disappointed as the soulful, powerful vocals of the two sisters on stage took over the café. No music accompanied their lyrics, just the snap of their fingers, and the sway of their hips.

Kennedy’s shoulders loosened as she began to flow with their beat. Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the chair’s back. Fingers lightly gripping the stem of her wineglass she pulled it up to her lips and took a sip.

The taste was cleansing, light, and crisp. A soothing feeling coursed through her, as she let the power of the lyrics pour over her. The twang of a guitar kicked in with the tinkle of piano keys.

The song Pour It Out, talked about a woman being healed from a previous heartbreak by the love of a good man. It described a love that he poured into her, that was so amazing and powerful, it allowed her to pour out all her heartache and pain, and become a better, stronger woman. It talked about how her newfound confidence and power, became her new man’s refuge and strength.

Tears made their way down her face, as she let the meaning of the lyrics penetrate her brain. She pushed the thoughts that threatened to overwhelm her to the side. A cool breeze passed in front of her, and she felt something lightly brush up against her arm.

When the touch moved from her arm to her shoulder, Kennedy finally peeled her eyes open. Surprised to find Elias kneeling in front of her, he held a tissue out to her. Smiling she accepted the tissue from his hands.

“Thank you.”

Elias pulled his tall, muscular frame up to his full height. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched as he disappeared behind the stage and she turned her attention back to the group on stage. Kennedy worked hard not to get pulled too deep into the lyrics, because she was embarrassed to have been caught crying the way she had. She didn’t want to experience another crying jag.

Within moments, Elias returned with an armchair that matched hers, and sat it beside her. His long legs stretched beyond their table, as he crossed them at the ankle.

He never spoke, simply nodded his head to the beat of the music. What intrigued her the most, was the fact that none of the patrons seemed to be caught up in his presence. While they nodded and smiled when he came in, and appeared to display the highest level of respect, they did not flock to him and disturb his space. They simply enjoyed the live entertainment.

After that set ended, Groove Theory flowed through the overhead speakers, and Kennedy turned her attention to Elias.

“No groupies or fan clubs out tonight?” she asked, holding her hand midway in the air, one eyebrow lifted.

Elias held his head down and chuckled. “Nah, not here. This isn’t even that type of place.”

She nodded her head slowly. “I’d’ve thought a celebrity of your stature wouldn’t be able to go anywhere in public without a mob coming after you.”

“I get that some places, but there are many places celebrities can go and feel free to live without all of the attention and the paparazzi following us. I told you, we’ve got our spots. We pay a high price for our privacy, but it’s well worth it. This is one of those places. A chill spot that welcomes different people from different walks of life, but there are boundaries in place that must be respected.”

“That’s good, Elias. I always worry about that for you guys. I know that I couldn’t live my life in a glass bubble, always under the microscope, with someone dissecting my every move.”

She watched in the dimly lit room as Elias’ facial expression changed from light and fun-loving, to dark and grim.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“Nah, just lost in thought about some business I need to tend to.”

“I really like the groups you had out here tonight,” she stated, changing the subject. She somehow doubted the truth behind his words.

“Thanks. They’ve worked hard to get where they are, and they’re still putting it in to keep moving. I just do my part by supporting their dreams. Speaking of…what’re yours?”

Kennedy finished sipping the last of her wine, before handing it off to an attendant who had come to her side.

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning her head to watch RohoMalkia sign autographs.

“Your dreams? What are they? All I know about you is that you’re a beast behind that camera. You bring things to life in a way I’ve never seen before.”

“So, you’ve said. And you’re a beast on that court. You really did your thing by the way,” she said, lightly patting his hand.

Kennedy giggled.

“What’s so funny?” his low voice asked, sounding so intimate in the public space.

“Just that I’m not a sports fan, but I really enjoyed myself that night. I was so caught up in the energy that flowed through the arena, that I felt like a diehard fan, although I had no idea what was going on.”

“Do you do that often?” Elias asked, rubbing one finger on the back of her hand.

“What’s that?” she asked, dropping her voice low and her eyes to his finger.

Kennedy swallowed, pulling back the heat that surged through her. She wasn’t certain if it was the wine, the dim lights, or just his nearness. Biting her lip, she pulled her hand back from his touch.

“You always manage to turn the subject away from yourself. I know very little about you, even after the long talk we had the night of the championship game.”

Pressing her lips together, she wished in that moment she was anywhere else but there.

Women's fiction author and blogger, Chelle Ramsey brings a refreshing perspective into the lives of her readers and wants them to find entertainment, healing and inspiration in each novel. Using real problems and challenges faced by ordinary people, Chelle wants readers to become empowered to rise above life's adversities, with faith in God, and belief in themselves.

Her stories are relatable to individuals of diverse demographics, who have suffered a loss, been hurt, have low self-esteem, have lost hope, or need a word of encouragement. She strives to take your emotions on a roller coaster ride, one page at a time. Chelle holds an MBA in Human Resource Management, which she puts to use in her Human Resources role by day, while she writes her fiction novels at night. And in her spare time, she’s a blogger, freelance writer, and ghostwriter. 
Her most important roles are those of a wife and mother of three. During her “me time,” she becomes enraptured with the enthralling stories of Terry McMillan, Nora Roberts, James Patterson and Stuart Woods. Chelle Ramsey resides in a rural community in Atlanta, Georgia and enjoys writing, family time, and watching NBA games.
She hosts the annual 20 Days of Love authors’ blogging campaign, March Madness authors’ giveaways campaign, and showcases other authors on her blog at www.chelleramsey.com/beautifully-inspired-blog. Her novels can be found online at Chelle Ramsey Amazon.
 
LINKS:
WEB: www.chelleramsey.com
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EMAIL: chelleramseywrites@gmail.com
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28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30

What does the above passage of Scripture mean to you?

There is a church on the corner of Peachtree Street and North Avenue in Midtown Atlanta. In the mid-nineties, I used to walk by that church or ride by it on almost a daily basis. When walking my eyes would be drawn to a depiction of Jesus with His arms spread wide, in a welcoming embrace. Below the mural is the passage of Scripture from Matthew 11, verses 28 through 30 which I always found peace in reading as I walked by.

It was a comforting passage of Scripture, reassuring me that I could always come to Christ to be renewed, revived, and restored. It was a personal invitation to me that would be guaranteed to change my life if I accepted His offer. Through the next twenty years it would pop up in my mind again during my Bible reading, other readings that I would encounter, or if I passed through the area again.

Yet, it has not been until twenty years later that the Scripture took on a new meaning. Twenty years later and now I'm no longer living in the area, but working in that area and I still see the Scripture whenever I drive by. Recently, the Scripture spoke to me in a different manner. Last week, I read the Scripture in the daily meditation of Our Daily Bread. As I meditated on the Scripture and the message shared, I began to see my journey in a whole new way.

How do you find "Rest" in the Lord?

Rest. It seems as if I have been focused on the entire Scripture for so long, that I missed the power in the word "Rest." I worry and stress about things beyond my control quite often. Why? Because I like to have control over things circulating in my world. When they are evidently beyond my control, as is everything in this world, I try really hard to make things go the way that I believe they should. In the end, it always turns out some other way, or disastrous in the impact of the journey getting to the end. It's because I have no control over life's circumstances, none of us do. We can simply take every moment and give our best and trust the Lord Almighty to work out the rest.

There is that word again. Rest. This time as I focused on the word, I found Him telling me that I need to learn to truly let things go and allow Him to work it out for my good, and the good of the others who love Him and are called according to His purpose. I cannot force the ending that I believe is the best ending, no more than my readers can re-write my novels with a different ending. When I understand that He is good and He wants us to have the best life possible and live a life that glorifies Him, then I can let go of the stress and strain. Then I can move into a space of trusting Him and giving my best in every encounter, every interaction with others, and every situation.

This kind of rest in God allows me to be delivered, healed, and freed from the inner turmoil that comes from stress and worrying. It allows me to have peace knowing that He holds all things in the cradle of His arms and when I truly rest in the Lord, I can be still and know that He is God and I can have freedom in my mind and in my soul to follow the way He leads and guides me. When I have this rest, I can hear His voice clearly giving me guidance, wisdom, and speaking to me in clarity. It is at this time that I am able to move freely, because I know my steps are ordered by Him. It is now that I can say with sincerity of heart that "ALL IS WELL."

What is your favorite Scripture?

It's a Fabulous Friday and today's featured author is Ann Marie Bryan. Love can be difficult to work through in the most blissful situations. Throw in heartbreak, time and distance, and secrets from the past and it can be daunting. Will true love prevail in the end? Read on...

His heart rate kicked up and he raked a hand over his head as uneasy dread shot through his veins. Still, wisdom demanded he move speedily to help, even if the situation would force him to come face-to-face with someone he was unprepared to see.

“God, help her,” he prayed aloud, before jumping into action.

He moved swiftly to grab his Jeep keys from the coffee table then rushed through the door. He did not relish the journey that now lay before him. Nor did he wish to confront the one thing that would never let him rest—the one painful remorse that continually aggravated his gut. The one thing in his life he needed to fix—his relationship with the woman he had nicknamed Em.

Madison Emma Kanate. She was his first love….

Once his soul found her, he loved her.

One look and he was helpless to her pull. She had caught his attention and lingered in his heart ever since. He had endured two years of being near Madison—drowning in her love. She always stirred him. Around her, he constantly felt the flutter of butterfly wings in his stomach. She made him feel things he longed for… things he couldn’t have.

Despite all the love she offered him, he could not bring himself to reach for her. Fear held him bound, propelling him to escape the source of his misery.

At the first opportunity, he had left it all behind.

He ran.

He had run away like a frightened animal.

And he had kept moving. He hadn’t looked back.

But, he couldn’t outrun the memories or the guilt that haunted him.

Ann Marie Bryan is a dedicated, graceful, multi-talented leader with a passion for excellence. She is the CEO & Founder of Victorious By Design, an organization committed to providing top quality professional writing services, comprehensive personal and professional development programs and exceptional performing arts services to meet the unique needs of individuals and organizations.
 
A Christian Fiction author, Ann Marie writes to educate, inspire and empower others. She desires to tell great stories with fascinating characters to show the awesome power of God in the lives of people and places. Shades of the Heart is the first book in her bestselling, Encounters of the Heart series. Book 2 - Mirrored Hearts: Sealed By Fire was released February 2016. Book 3 - A Place For My Heart, the highly anticipated third installment in the series, was released in March 2017. Book 4 - Where My Heart Belongs was released in April 2018.
 
Ann Marie's greatest passion is to empower others to succeed by tapping into their God-given potential. She enjoys writing, reading, dancing, teaching, meeting people and traveling. With all the knowledge and experiences that God has so graciously blessed her with, Ann Marie is determined to make her life a ministry for the Lord.


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Standalone books in the Encounters of the Heart series:
Book 1 - Shades of the Heart (The story of Blake & Gabrielle Montgomery)
Book 2 - Mirrored Hearts: Sealed by Fire (The story of Larry & Rozene Kanate)
Book 3 - A Place For My Heart (The story of Chandler Peynard and Sabrina Benjamin)
Book 4 - Where My Heart Belongs (The story of Tyler Bradshaw and Madison Kanate)
 
 
Other books:
Unforgettable, My Love Has Come Along
Truth Awaits You on the Other Side: An Anthology about the Consequences of Sin
Mirrored Hearts (A Short Story)

Thanks for joining us for another Fab Friday! Please be so gracious as to leave a comment below, I'm sure Ann Marie would love to hear from you!

To join this blog simply click "Follow This Blog," "Subscribe," or "Email" links in the upper right corner.

It's another Fabulous Friday and today's featured author has a wonderful story to tell. Natasha Frazier is sharing her story, Kairos, which is a sweet romance that teaches us a little something about waiting on His timing, and not our own. Read on...

Delight thyself also in the Lord: and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass.

Those were the Scriptures that Kensi had chosen to live by, and her desires were simple: career progression and family. Today she was trusting God to bring one of those to pass. She could feel it in her bones; besides, she’d been positioning herself for this promotion since she was hired eight years ago.

Today was the day she’d dreamt about for the past few years— Kensi was certain of that fact as she strode into the editor-in-chief’s office, dressed in her favorite burgundy colored suit with matching pumps, pearls around her neck and hair straightened down her back. She was dressed for the occasion. When she entered Mrs. Samantha Elkins’ office, she accepted the bottled water offered to her, sat at the edge of her seat and crossed her legs at the ankles, excitement bottled up within her. She was ready. She smiled and nodded anxiously as her boss gave her accolades over her past assignments, one of which was the high profile story of Joshua Archer’s retirement from the NBA. Samantha Elkins’ praise was nice, but Kensi’s nods were intended to move her on to the good part
 — 
the part where they discussed her promotion.
 
“I’m impressed, Ms. Jacobson. You’ve outdone yourself this time and your efforts have not gone unnoticed.” Samantha tapped the most recent issue of The Big Apple Arts Chronicle as she spoke.
 
“Thank you, ma’am.” Kensi’s response was rushed. She’d been rehearsing this scene in her mind all morning and it was moving much slower than she’d anticipated.
 
“And you know what this means, right?” Samantha smiled, waiting on Kensi’s nod of confirmation. “I have an even more perfect assignment for you. You’re so talented, Kensi, and the world of journalism could use more journalists with your skills, so you’ll be working in Pepperton, Texas, training a few newly hired journalists for the  Pepperton Quad. You’ll also be covering Pepperton’s Christmas celebration festivities, which I believe will be the perfect piece for our Christmas issue. Something new and refreshing,” Samantha dramatized with her hands. “It’s a lengthy assignment, but I know it’s nothing that you can’t handle,” Samantha finished and handed the file to Kensi. With electronic media being a preferred method of communication for most, Samantha still preferred paper, as evidenced by the paper file she handed to Kensi; she needed something that she could  feel between her fingers, she’d always said.
 

 Kensi slowly reached for the file, waiting for the rest of the news. However, Samantha’s attention had turned to her computer and it seemed that Kensi had been dismissed. Kensi stood to leave when Adam walked into Samantha’s office, uninvited.
 
“What a great opportunity! Kensi, since you’re leaving, I’d like to inform you that Adam is going to be our new assistant editor-in-chief!”
 
Kensi glanced from Adam to Samantha, attempting to mask the scowl, confusion, and disappointment that crept across her features. Was she supposed to offer congratulatory remarks?
 
“Give us a minute, will you, Adam?”
 
“Yes ma’am.” Adam gave Kensi a pitiful look before turning to leave. He wanted to be the one to tell her about the promotion. He hated that she had to find out this way, especially since they were more
than just coworkers.

Thanks for joining us for another Fab Friday! Please be so gracious as to leave a comment below, I'm sure Natasha would love to hear from you!

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It's a Fabulous Friday and I'm honored to feature the award-winning, Angelia Vernon Menchan on today's Fab Friday Feature. She is the queen of writing when it comes to grown folks talk, and her female characters believe in owning their sexuality, knowing who they are, what they want, and letting nothing hinder them from getting it. Today's novel is no exception to the rule. So grab your favorite mug, curl up, and read along...

When Crea arrived, James was filling mugs with coffee and had blackberry bread and other pastries on a small glass plate with curls of butter. Crea swallowed down nervousness, sliding onto a padded chair. James sat across from her, those damn eyes staring into her. 


“Why didn’t you ever write, Crea? I loved you,” He asked and heat flew up her neck. 


She felt ambushed and wanted to flea but sat still. Inhaling and exhaling allowed her to control the agitation, filtering through her. Picking up a piece of bread, she buttered it, taking a couple of bites before sipping her perfectly brewed coffee. Only then did she engage his searching look. 


“I couldn’t. I knew you were doing something but I had no idea how deeply you were involved. When I saw you in cuffs, something in me died. By the time you were sentenced, my goal was placing one foot in front of the other. I was a nineteen, about to graduate college, and in love with a man who would be in prison for longer than either of us had been alive.” Her voice shook with emotion. “I couldn’t commit myself to that or you, James. Writing would’ve given you false hope and I couldn’t do that to me or you. I grieved you as if you died, and went on trying to live.” Her honesty and shaking voice touched his heart. He knew she did the right thing but it cut like a hot knife through his heart. 


“Did your mom advise you?”


“She didn’t know. Our relationship remained private. I told her several years after graduating.” Swallowing the sudden lump filling his throat, James accepted that Crea made her own decisions on not visiting or writing. 


“She didn’t seem surprised but she didn’t say anything. I know the image my mother gives off but she understands love. The thing is, I’ve always been her number one priority. James, all I had after you left was school and work and I made it work.”


“I hear you but that shit was like a shiv in my back. I adored you Crea. It was all you. When I was released three years ago with no parole and completely free, I moved to Miami. Then enrolled in school and never planned to return to this place...”


“You’ve been out three years...” she whispered, pain pooling in her belly, at the realization he hadn’t sought her out in all that time. Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he reached for her hand. 


“I have and planned to stay in Miami longer, but Janice reached out and I couldn’t refuse. I avoided you. I was no longer hurt or angry but... seeing you at the rec center raised up my feelings again. I had to know.” He said. “Thanks for being straight with me.” Crea nodded, extracting her hand from his. 


“Was that your man at Ms. Roberta’s?”


“No, he’s one of my teachers,” she replied, realizing he meant Tony. “We both love her.”


“He was looking at you like a shark...” James said, causing Crea to look up at him. The way he was staring liquified her insides. “I understand, I want to devour you right now on this damn table.”


The room suddenly seemed tilted, Crea stood, gathering her plate. 


“James, I can’t do this... right now,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion betraying how affected she was. 


“Right now... right now gives me hope.” James smiled and her heart seemed to still. “Get out of here before I change my mind and turn you into a buffet.” Grabbing her things, Crea raced out to her car. Her entire body aflame. Quickly turning they key, she turned up the air conditioning, sitting until her mind recalibrated and her heart rate returned to normal.

Angelia Vernon Menchan is wife, mother, nana and mentor. Since January 2006, she has published 34 printed books and an additional 124 ebooks through her small publishing company, MAMM Productions. She is also the Co-founder of Honorable MENCHAN Media, through which she has published books for 15 authors to date.

Her personal motto is, ‘There is abundance through God for all of us; we simply have to be open for our blessings.'

In 2017 she decided to add her hallmark phrase “Just LOVE” to coffee mugs and tee-shirts. This phrase has taken on a life of its own! In addition, Angelia is a prolific public speaker and mentor to women of all ages. She resides in Jacksonville, Florida with her husband and cover designer, Maurice Menchan.                
CONNECT WITH ANGELIA:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/angeliam
Twitter: https://mobile.twitter.com/AngelMenchan

IG: https://www.instagram.com/angeliamenchan7oo/

Thanks for joining us for another Fab Friday! Please be so gracious as to leave a comment below, I'm sure Angelia would love to hear from you!

To join this blog simply click "Follow This Blog," "Subscribe," or "Email" links in the upper right corner.