Coming Soon... Bittersweet Chocolate

Picture of the Day:

Okay...I'm back.

I've finished re-writing my four previously published books ̶The Revenge Series̶ which includes

Bittersweet Chocolate

Clandestine Impasse
Bouzwha Princess - Final Reckoning
Cruise Into Jeopardy

Bittersweet Chocolate is coming soon  ̶  publisher ExtasyBooks.com

Will let you know the exact date, when I know. Here's a sneak peak at the cover art, the logline,  blurb, and an excerpt.

Marissa’s belief, revenge never ends until all the players are dead, or one left standing, becomes fact when enemies from her past re-emerge seeking vengeance.

~~

It’s the social unrest era of mid-nineteen-sixties Philadelphia. For Marissa Wells, a young black woman, surviving increasing gang violence trumps civil rights, with good reason. Gang culture is part of her lifestyle, affiliation that molds character, skews ethics, and leads to her brutal assault. Marissa retaliates, and her lover forfeits his life saving hers. Guilt-ridden, she severs all ties and moves away. Her mistake―she leaves enemies alive to retaliate.

Transitioning from segregation to integration, she settles in California, meets Tristan Corbett, a white southerner, discovers love is colorblind, and happiness is fleeting.

Marissa’s past starts intruding on her present. Enemies re-emerge, jeopardizing her new life. To eliminate the threat and cycle of revenge, aware she might die trying, she lures her nemesis into a confrontation.

~~

Excerpt:

Prologue

Well hell, it’s true what they say―whoever they are―about life goes on regardless of prior debilitating mental and physical life experiences. Who’d know what that meant better than her.

After a betrayal of trust led to her brutal assault and she’d been left to die, despite the scope of her injuries, with indomitable tenacity, she survived. Wounds healed, demoralizing humiliation faded, and even learning the extent of the internal damage, implying she’d never have children, gained acceptance.

What was irreparable, unforgettable, and unforgivable was the death of a man who loved her enough to forfeit his life to save hers. A man who deserved better died because of the arrogance behind her blind determination to settle a score. His irrevocable loss would remain her cross to bear, in addition to the promise she’d made him about changing her gangster ways, after she had her revenge. Though failing to achieve that goal, she intended to keep her promise.

So, damn straight, she signed up for the life goes on circuit. She had a purpose. For him, she’d prove she could change.

No doubt, she accepted partial blame for what had happened, because she’d chosen to ignore innate instincts and clear signs of imminent disaster. With her customary overconfidence, she’d set out to navigate unfamiliar environments of sex and romance, the venture that almost cost her, her life.

How could she have been so naïve?

Sure, she’d been young and a catholic with all the related moral baggage. Combine that with parent-imposed Emily Post niceties of social etiquette, might lead one to assume those qualities accounted for her gullibility. Uh-uh, wrong. Human anti-social conduct of deception, or violence and retaliation weren’t unfamiliar to her. Her youth coincided with the turbulent years of the civil rights movement―discrimination, segregation, and integration. Were there better examples of aggression and backlash?

What’s more, during that period of social unrest, in her Negro community, efforts to survive escalating gang violence trumped civil rights. Sadly, the gang environment was an integral part of her lifestyle. Related to, and affiliated with gang members was an alliance that molded her character, skewed her moral compass, and turned friends into enemies. Being a poster child for miz goody-two-shoes naïveté, she was not.

Yet oddly, considering her background, acts of, and reactions to violence were never up close and personal, only life observations. Until that son of a bitch slithered into her world with his brand of harsh reality. Her psyche had tried to warn her that he wasn’t what he seemed. Ignoring common sense and years of learned street smarts, she became involved with him.

Believing he was the man of her dreams, she thought she was in love and he was the man she would marry. She let her guard down and the ensuing devastation taught her two object lessons.

One…as a victim of a heinous act of brutality, she’d learned the true meaning of hate. Driven by her hate, she’d gone after the bastard who orchestrated the attack on her, willing, capable of, and had attempted to kill…uh, no attempt to kill. She’d set out to commit premeditated murder. But the bastard didn’t die, and her lover’s death was the result of that oversight. Hatred for each other, her and the bastard, escalated to toxic, and led to her second, most significant lesson.

Two…failure to attain payback, her psyche implemented an acceptable philosophy of revenge never ends until all the players are dead, or one left standing. A mindset intended to keep her vigilant and prepared, just in case.

In retrospect, she should’ve recognized signs of her unruly youth spinning out of control. If she’d noticed, perhaps she could’ve redirected the course of her devastating actions, which might have kept her lover alive. Overall, she would’ve avoided becoming the target of revenge possibly lasting the rest of her life.

Damn. All those would’ve, could’ve, should’ve, and might’ve been’s…why continue berating herself about things she can’t change. Besides, having survived, and given a second chance, she intended taking the opportunity to amend her ways, and keep her promise.

Opting for self-imposed exile, and abandoning her justifiable vengeance, helped to temper her one left standing doctrine. She also planned to utilize key elements of her downfall, arrogance and obstinance, to restructure her lifestyle choices…hmm. It’s possible her good intentions might be useless gestures. She was leaving behind people who thought they deserved reprisal.

Starting with her chief adversary, who alleged he owed her. Like her, he’d an ingrained sense of gang justice, values that made vows of payback credible. His vendetta wouldn’t end until he’d attained his goal, or died trying, and didn’t that darken her prospects for a happily-ever-after.

Hell. If he thought he had a grudge against her, maybe she shouldn’t ignore other wanna-be enemies as threats. Though she couldn’t imagine why any others would consider their mickey-mouse-rancor worthy of reprisal…oh, except…no, couldn’t be that stupid. Furthermore, if other erstwhile enemies wanted revenge, he or she would have to form a line then get to her first.

Folkes―homie gang-speak for unrelated people―questioned how she’d acquired one enemy, much less several, back when. Had the curious known her like the folks―relatives―knew her, the answer would’ve been obvious.

To know her was to love…uh hate…um, want to kill, and she’d started at such a young age.