On My Own...
The last couple of months I have had various authors as guests sharing their works and giving away gifts to you, the readers. Today is the first day that I'm back with #WriterWednesday and I cannot wait to share with you. We're one week away from the release of A Woman's Design: Redemption and I'm so excited about the release.
I am giving two lucky readers a free e-copy of A Woman's Design: Redemption upon its release date. Simply share this blog post and tag me in it, and you will be entered into the giveaway. Read the excerpt below...
I was so excited, I couldn’t contain it! I had forgotten one thing after another that morning and probably would have forgotten my head if it hadn’t been attached. At 11:15, I was going to my closing and finally purchasing a home. On my own.
Patti LaBelle’s lyrics to her song, On My Own, flowed through my head as I drove in silence to my destination. I looked forward to settling down in Santa Monica, claiming my new life, and staking a claim for my future.
During negotiations, the buyer had insisted on a quick closing. This was no problem for me, since I was ready to put behind me the memories of Denver and Felice, which haunted my apartment. We had agreed upon a purchase price of nine hundred and five thousand. Chiku was right when she said the seller was ready to get rid of this property. I was glad to be of assistance.
Pulling up into the parking lot of the law offices where we would conduct our business, I found a spot underneath the shade of a large palm tree. I admired the landscaping. A blanket of lush green grass spread out across the office park. Stately columnar symmetrical-shaped incense cedars lined the walkway leading to the building. Orange-gold buttercups blossomed at the glass double entrance doors, creating a glorious welcome to visitors. I had a brief flashback of my home in Atlanta. Eric and I had spent a mint on landscaping, and I could appreciate the beauty of what lay in front of me.
Quickly pulling my attention from my past and into the present, I glanced into the overhead mirror. I grabbed my makeup bag and freshened up my lip gloss. Smiling at my reflection, I was proud that I was about to become a homeowner on my own for the first time.
My heels clicked across the marble flooring once I stepped inside the building. The blast of cool air from the air conditioning instantly dried the moisture that had begun to bead at my hairline. It was a sauna outside, and I was thankful for the cool air flowing inside. It was rare that the temperatures would rise to the sultry eighty-three degrees we experienced this day. So, I really couldn’t complain. I enjoyed Santa Monica’s balmy temperatures year-round. Surely, I could put up with the sporadic extremes.
“Hi, I’m here looking for the offices of Everly and Goldstein,” I said, approaching the security desk.
“Second bank of elevators. Third floor. Right off the elevator and straight ahead. Double glass doors with their names etched on ‘em. Can’t miss it.”
The bored and tired-looking security guard never glanced up from the game he was playing on his phone. Clearly, he had better things to do than direct visitors around the facility. That surely left me with a feeling of safety. At least I knew if someone came in to pose a threat to the safety of the building’s occupants, we had the protection of Elite Security Forces’ finest on duty.
I glanced again at his name tag underneath the company’s name and logo. “Earl Montgomery.” I laughed. “That figures. I bet he’s about as goofy as Martin was in National Security,” I mocked aloud.
Stepping away, I looked back once more. He was not the least bit concerned about my commentary. He probably had never seen the movie anyway.
Despite his oblivious attitude to the facility’s visitors, the security guard gave excellent directions. I arrived at my destination determined not to let anything deter my happiness that day. I was prepared to close on the place of my dreams. At least for now, anyway. If I ever planned to marry and start a family one day, this place would be an excellent rental property or vacation spot for my friends coming to town.
I knew Chiku had not arrived yet. She had sent a text informing me she would be fifteen minutes late. I was offered a cup of tea and some cookies by the receptionist, who was much more alert than the fake security guard downstairs. She showed me into the conference room where we would be meeting, informing me that I was the first to arrive. She would notify the attorneys when everyone was present.
I took an opportunity to gather my thoughts as I stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Little seeds of doubt started popping up in my head. Was I making the right decision? I had abandoned everything to come here. My family. My friends. My memories.
Eric’s constant reminder of his infidelity.
This wasn’t the first time my thoughts wondered to his son.
Although Eric’s brother, Stephen, sent receipts to me showing proof of the monthly allotment of four hundred dollars sent to Kendra to take care of Eric’s son, I couldn’t help but wonder about his overall well-being. Then I began to wonder if I would ever have children of my own. I whispered a silent prayer, asking the Lord to free me of the envy I often experienced when thinking of Eric’s son.
“I see I’m not the first to—” My thoughts were interrupted by the presence of someone walking into the conference room.
Turning around, all thoughts and words flew from my head. My heart sped up as my breathing became labored. I sucked in dry air, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone formulate verbal communication. A prickly, stinging sensation took over my body. I felt as if a thousand pin pricks were poking me at once, while my eyes were burning. As instantly as I had been overwhelmed with the sensation, it left me. I felt incomplete.
A different energy replaced the first one. This one caused me to feel warm and sensual, all woman-like. I suddenly became aware of every thick curve of my body. My femininity was accentuated by the racing of my pulse, the heaving of my breasts straining against my simple, white blouse. The jeans caressing my thighs wanted to peel off all by themselves. Surprised at the unexpected moisture, I clenched my thighs tight. I needed to get out of the room. My thoughts took over and turned my body into the enemy.
That smooth caramel face, chocolate, almond-shaped eyes, and full lips did something to me. The smoldering look he gave me made me feel as if I was standing before him naked. I wanted to prance, letting everything loose…letting him see what he could not have. Allowing him to take a glimpse at all that I knew he desired from the look in his eyes.
Then I recalled running my fingers through those dreads in the heated throes of lovemaking. I flushed as I realized he was having those exact thoughts. He stood before me making love to me with his gaze, biting his bottom lip. I wanted to taste it. I needed to taste all of him.
Pissed at myself, I released a verbal assault that in the physical, would have brought me up on charges.
“What the hell are you doing here? You know what…save your sorry ass excuse, because whatever it is, I’m sure I don’t want to hear it. You fucked up a good thing, but I’m glad I missed out on the best thing I never had!”
I felt Beyoncé’s lyrics in my heart and soul and understood with clarity what she meant. My hands squeezed shut into fists, and I breathed deeply in and out, attempting to control my rage and hurt.
“I’m…I’m…why are you here?” Nick asked.
“Not that it’s any of your damned business, but I’m going on with my life! I’m here to close on my home!”
Slowly, Nick’s eyes widened at the same time mine did.
I shook my head, laughing in the face of fate. “You’re the real estate developer?” I asked, pointing at him, disgust evident on my face.
“Yeah…uh, I…Yeah,” he repeated, pulling his hand down his beard.
If you haven't read book 1 in the duology, A Woman's Design, click the image above to download A Woman's Design: Afflictions.
About Chelle Ramsey...
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.
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