Angelia Vernon Menchan, Serialist...

Angelia Vernon Menchan is an avid serial writer. Her goal is to engage readers in ongoing stories filled with people like them, who they can grow to know. Some will inspire love and devotion, others rage and ridicule, perhaps. They will all inspire feelings and generate conversation!


Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Girlish... Signed Copies

Girlish... To Woman

Review by Nikki Michelle

She's done it again, and by she, I mean Angelia Vernan Menchan. She has once again managed to take me through a barrage of emotions. Girlish was so different from Womanish in the sense that it was targeted at young girls and girls coming into womanhood. I know I've said it before when she wrote Womanish, but Mrs. Menchan always manages to show me myself in each of her characters. This time was no different. Let's get into it, shall we?
The first story was about a young girl named Trina. Her mother came running to Angel, desperate for help with rescuing the young girl from the clutches of a predator. When I tell you I hollered when Angel grabbed her glock, I ain't lying. But what took the cake was when she told Darnell she was going to lay him the hell down if he didn't bring her that young girl out of his house!
The next story was about a young girl named Jo and this story touched me deep down in my soul. I felt so many things for Jo, so much so that I can't even name them all. It's like Jo's soul took trips in and out of her body. One minute she was lucid and the next she was just floating, better yet dancing, on air, trying to get by. I feel that life, her adoptive mother and father had failed her in a sense. We've heard Jo's story time and time again and yet nothing is done to ensure these kind of people don't have access to the children. But as with any predator, they are good at hiding their hand.
I'm already laughing to myself because I'm about to talk about Vi. She was something else, but I'm not even going to say much about Vi. I'm going to let ya'll read that and be tickled on your own. I wonder if that smell ever fully went away. LOL!
With Lisa, all I can say is that I'm happy she found a way to live her life freely. Maybe Wanda will follow suit? With Glenda, in the end, I was happy she got something out of the deal because baby when I tell you I wanted to shake the ish out this girl, I ain't lying. Delia came through like a wrecking ball, kicking butt, spitting, and taking names. I felt sorry for her because I know her struggle all too well. And poor Debra... I still wonder what was going on in her home to make her turn to a vice at such an early age.
It was the last story that touched me the most because the author revealed some deep dark secrets of her own. This proves that many times we think we know a person and their story when we really have no idea. I won't speak too much on the last story because I really need people to get into this book and understand that sometimes, no matter how life tries to screw you over, you don't have to become what has happened to you. I want to thank this author for writing an inspirational book that actually teaches you without preaching to you. I know a lot of folk won't get that, but to those of us whom Mrs. Menchan has ministered to, we get it. Angel is the kind of Elder that is so desperately needed for the young girls and us young mothers, especially today. 
All-in-all, I give this book five pages (think five-stars). Nikki-Michelle recommends this book.

Purchase signed copies at right. 



Wednesday, November 9, 2016


Dr. Jesse Stafford, successful surgeon, husband and father of three lives in an exclusive enclave in Atlanta. He volunteers his time at a neighborhood free clinic in one of the roughest parts of Atlanta where his wife, Cydney's family still lives. When an unarmed thirteen-year-old boy is shot and killed by the police in this neighborhood, Jesse finds himself in an ethical dilemma and at odds with some family members. His involvement puts everything he’s achieved on the line.

Jesse Stafford sat on a hard plastic bench in a communal holding cell in the Atlanta City Detention Center waiting for his brother to bail him out. He’d been arrested for participating in what began as a peaceful demonstration in the neighborhood where his wife, Cydney had grown up and where he volunteered at the medical clinic.

For the past three hours, he and the other demonstrators went through the painfully slow booking process and waited to make their phone calls. He hated calling Vic at close to midnight, but he had no choice. Vic would be able to put up the money for his bail, and unlike Nick and Charles, he didn’t have sleeping toddlers who might be disturbed by the phone ringing late at night. Thankfully, doctors were used to being interrupted in the middle of the night. His older brother said he would be there as soon as he got dressed. Jesse asked him to call Cydney and let her know what happened and that he was okay. Of all the things to happen to him just days before the entire family got together for the July Fourth holiday at his parents’ house. He shook his head and uttered a pitiful laugh.

Tonight had been the largest demonstration since Darren Givens, an unarmed thirteen-year-old boy, had been shot by police on Donald Lee Hollowell Parkway back in June. Ironically, the street named for a famed civil rights attorney who’d lived near the area was better known by its former name, Bankhead Highway. The Bankhead area continued to be one of the poorest areas of Atlanta. Even with some recent improvements to the vicinity, it still left a lot to be desired.

For weeks after the shooting, the infamous street teemed with chanting, sign-carrying activists. Television trucks, their satellite dishes reaching into the chilly air like sunflowers, were a constant presence. Anger flared among residents sending young people into the streets. Hollowell Parkway had burned for two nights. Once the police and National Guard restored order, demonstrators from all over the country representing the Black Lives Matter movement came to show their support for the boy’s family. Eventually, their presence vanished, and the media turned their attention to more recent events. Until today, when the verdict was announced that the officers involved in the shooting had been exonerated. Now the heavy armored police vehicles and officers armed with high-powered rifles had returned to maintain the large numbers of demonstrators in the streets.

Jesse still didn’t know what had sparked the clash between some of the protesters and the police. Following hours of peaceful demonstrations, shouting and shoving erupted among the crowd. The next thing he knew, someone slapped handcuffs on his wrists and herded him into a police transport vehicle along with two dozen others.

“Stafford!” a loud voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “Jesse Stafford!”

He stood, excused himself through the crowded holding cell and moved toward the voice. “Right here.”

“Your bail’s been made. Follow me.” The uniformed officer hit a button on the wall and the door opened automatically. He didn’t take his hand off the weapon at his hip and never looked directly at Jesse, as though he were a non-entity. The door closed and Jesse followed him down the long hallway to an outer area he hadn’t seen when they were brought in.

Vic was leaning against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets. His heavy brows rose when he saw Jesse walking toward him behind the officer.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said and immediately moved on to some other business.

“Hey,” Vic said, giving him a wary look.

“Hey. Thanks for doing this, man.”

“Disturbing the peace, huh?” A hint of a smile crossed Vic’s face.

“That’s what it says?”

Vic handed him the papers he’d just signed. Jesse scanned them quickly and blew out a rush of air. “I guess it could be worse.”

“Oh, Daddy’s going to have a field day with this. What were you doing out there?”

“I’m a regular presence in the neighborhood. I have an obligation to show my support. It’s important to let the residents of the area know I don’t consider myself an outsider.”

“But you are an outsider. You live in a million-dollar house ten miles from there.”

He ignored Vic’s comment. “Trey and that kid they killed are the same age,” he said, speaking of Vic’s oldest son. His brother’s shoulders slumped. “I’d treated him twice for asthma at the clinic; I can’t imagine someone snuffing out his life. The pain his family must be going through is unimaginable.”

 Besides working in the clinic, some of the parents knew him from the times he’d spoken to classes during Career Day at a couple of the local middle schools. Each year he made it a point to be a part of the event to show the children, who never saw doctors, lawyers or other professionals living among them, they could accomplish anything with good habits and hard work. They never ceased to ask thought-provoking, often comical questions of him and the other speakers, and the day always turned out to be fun for the kids and him.

Jesse followed Vic out of the building to the parking lot. As soon as Vic pulled out onto the street, Jesse said, “Thanks again for doing this for me. I’ll transfer the money into your account first thing in the morning.”

“No sweat, man. Whenever you get the chance; I won’t go broke before then.”

Buy links:

Coming soon in paperback on

Contemporary women’s fiction/romance author Chicki Brown has been featured twice in USAToday. She was the 2014 B.R.A.B. (Building Relationships Around Books) Inspirational Fiction Author and also the 2011 SORMAG (Shades of Romance Magazine) Author of the Year. Chicki was also a contributing author to the Gumbo for the Soul: Men of Honor (Special Cancer Awareness Edition).

A transplanted New Jersey native who lives in Atlanta, Georgia, Brown still misses the Jersey shore, the pizza and the hot dogs.

Nia Forrester, Beverly Jenkins, Iris Bolling, Lisa Kleypas, and J.R. Ward are among her favorite authors.

Online contacts:

Amazon Central Author Page:

Monday, July 11, 2016


I Want You... And my Career



"What are you saying to me?" Alicia asked Jefferson, incredulity clear in her voice. Alicia Mattison-Frazier and Jefferson Frazier had been married for three months after dating for almost two years. Alicia was a marketing professional while Jefferson owned a financial consulting firm. He earned considerably more than she, but Alicia added significantly to their bottom line. Their intention was to have children in two years when Alicia was thirty-four and Jefferson, thirty-five, but when they found out Alicia was eight weeks pregnant, Jefferson's immediate response was for her to stop working. Jefferson's eyes met his wife's.


"I'm saying I want you to quit your job; maybe not immediately, but by the seventh month. I want you home and protected for the last couple months of your pregnancy and then home with my child until he or she begins school. That's important to me. We are not raising latchkey kids."


Alicia's mouth literally dropped open at his words, and she was almost convinced she was dreaming. He could not possibly be defining her entire future.


"Jefferson, that's the most archaic thing I've ever heard. I have a very real career, and I plan to work until I'm not able to. I feel twelve weeks is sufficient maternity leave. My agency offers onsite childcare that we can drop in anytime."


Jefferson pulled himself up to his considerable height and glanced down into the deep brown eyes of his wife.


"That's not good enough, Alicia. My mom was single and lost a child while at work. Not only that, but I came home every day to an empty house and a cold sandwich, only to be babysat by a television. I will not have that for my child."


Taking a deep breath, Alicia weighed her words before saying them. She didn't want to offend the man she loved, however, she had something to say. Reaching out, she touched the sleeve of Jefferson's fine wool jacket.


"Jeff, I'm a professional woman with ten years into a growing career, and I'm not interested in shelving all I’ve worked for. Your mom was working in a tool factory when she had a miscarriage. She returned to work because she had to and could not afford child care. That's not our situation. Besides we never discussed me giving up my career when I got pregnant. You should have mentioned it before."


Jefferson's nose flared as it was prone to do when he was annoyed. Alicia’s heart lurched because he was a handsome man whom she loved completely, but no one told her that love, marriage, and having a child meant she would have to give up her career.


"We are discussing it now, Alicia. I'm not risking my child."


"Jefferson, you have one more time to call OUR baby your child. I'm carrying our child, in our marriage, where we make life changing decisions together!"

His eyes narrowed before he turned and allowed the door to close behind him as he walked out of the house.


I think we just fought Alicia thought as she made her way to their bedroom. She was happy about becoming a mother and having their child, but giving up her career for over five years wasn't an option. She never agreed to that. She was not agreeing to that. She quickly showered and shook off the conversation. They would talk later. Jefferson was her husband, not her dictator.





Jefferson sat in the car, fuming. He wasn't pleased with how that went or how he said it, but he meant it. His dream had always been to be a man who took care of his family. He married Alicia, and with a career, home, and investments intact; and though they planned to wait two years, she was pregnant now. His goal was to ease her into being a stay-at-home mom, but life escalated things. Jefferson recalled meeting Alicia and being enamored with the soft spoken beauty, who was quiet and deep and knew a great deal about a variety of subjects. She loved sports and finance as much as he did. He actually respected her accomplishments, and she knew he did. Alicia was right about his traditional child rearing ideas not coming up until now. Jefferson had not wanted to scare her off or lose her. Rubbing his head, he pulled off into traffic. He needed to talk to a woman he was sure would understand; his mother Marie.


Pulling up to the ranch style home in an aging but lovely neighborhood, Jefferson smiled. His mom was in her mid-fifties and still unmarried. He had been able to purchase this home for her and afford her to live better than she ever had. Marie still worked for the same manufacturing company, but was promoted to supervisor ten years earlier and loved her job. Before he could even knock, the door opened, and Marie invited Jefferson inside. She looked around him as if she expected to see Alicia. Jefferson walked in and sat on the sofa.


"She's not with me."


"Is everything okay?"


Jefferson could hear the genuine concern in his mother's voice, and he knew she adored Alicia. That was a factor in his asking her to marry him when he saw the genuine love between Alicia and Marie.


"Yes and no. First of all, you're going to be grandma." Marie squealed, dancing a mini jig before grabbing her son in a hug. He stood, yielding to the hug. He had to smile at his mom's exuberance.


"Son, that's the best news, but why are you here, or more importantly, why isn't Alicia here with you?"


"We had a disagreement. I told her she needed to quit her job and plan to be home with our child, and she said some gibberish about her career." Marie's face quickly displayed a flicker of ranging emotions before she sat down next to her son.


"Why would she quit her job, Jefferson?" Maria asked quietly. His eyes didn't quite meet his mother's.


"It's just the right thing to do..."


"Because your mama didn't stay home with you and lost your little brother or sister, so you're going to recreate the wheel with your wife? Or is it because your daddy didn't take care of us, allowing me to be home every day with milk and cookies that you're going to reduce your wife to that?"


Shock marred Jefferson's face at Marie's words. "Huh?”


"You heard me. You married a smart career woman who already had great job, home, car and future, and because you want to prove something to the world, but mostly yourself, you want to turn her into your wish for a mama instead of leaving her to be the woman she is..."




"Shut up Jefferson. You are over here with your mama sulking when you should be home with your wife, rubbing her belly or getting her tea or something. I'm ashamed of you. I really am." Jefferson stared at Marie, unable to process what she said. He stood to leave, but Marie grabbed his arm. "Before you go home, you need to think long and hard about your motivation Jefferson. You might not have had your dad or a brother or sister, but you had a mom who worked her ass off to support and provide for you, and carved a career out of nothing for herself. You can be embarrassed about that if you wish, but do not penalize that woman who loves you and is capable of doing just that, raising a child and having a career. You think and make some decisions."






"I love you..."


"I love you, Jefferson but you are dead ass wrong, and you need to get it right."




Jefferson wasn't ready to go home. He drove to the barbershop. Cuttin' Up was owned by his cousin Morris, a confessed playboy, and he knew he would get some respect there. Walking in, he noted it was mostly empty except for a kid in the chair. The other barbers were cleaning up their areas.


"What's up married man? How did you get out the house?" Morris asked.


"I needed to. Can you hook me up?"


"I got you. I'm almost done with Youngblood. I'll take him next door then I'll set you straight."


When Morris returned from taking the kid, Jefferson was in the chair waiting.


"So what's up Jeff? With your life, and especially your woman, I would never leave home."


"I'm going to be daddy..."


"That's great. We need that. You sound happy, but something else is at play." Morris noted.


"Alicia wants to continue working. I want her home. I can take care of mine." For several minutes all could be heard was the buzzing of the clippers.


"Brother, you are ridiculous. If you wanted that kind of woman, then you shouldn't have married a got-it-going on woman. Brothers all over town want your problems, including me. Alicia is beautiful, smart, and paid, and she loves your dumb ass. You got first world problems," Morris said and continued the haircut. When he was done, he handed Jefferson the mirror.


"I'm good," Jefferson said, pulling out a twenty and throwing it on the counter. He embraced his cousin before heading out.


"Congrats man. Don’t be a fool." Morris said. Not responding, Jefferson waved, walking out.




Once Alicia was changed and preparing dinner, the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Jefferson, Alicia rushed to answer the door, and seeing that it was her mom, tears filled her eyes. Concern filled Phyllis as she wrapped her arms around her daughter, holding her close. Once Alicia was spent, she led her mom to the kitchen, filling her in. Alicia had always been reticent about discussing her relationship with her parents, but she felt overwhelmed. After hearing about the baby, Phyllis expressed her joy but knew she needed to bring balance and clarity.


"Did he demand or is that how you heard it?" Phyllis asked.


"He demanded and then he left. Mom, I'm not giving up my career. I love Jefferson, and I want this baby." He unconsciously rubbed her belly. "We did not discuss this. Not once. He always seemed to respect what I did and who I am. He came out of left field with this."


"I understand, but life and marriage are full of compromise. When I got pregnant with you, Forrest was a new dentist, and I would have loved to stay home a while, but I didn't have that option. My job teaching paid the bills. Forrest didn't want to work for anyone else, and we needed my check. That's why we didn't have another child. I couldn't bear to turn another child over to daycare. My career eventually flourished as did Forrest's dental practice, but I would have loved at least a year or two home with you. Sometimes we do what we want, always, and that's called being single. Other times we meet our loves, halfway. That's called being married." Alicia gasped at her mom's words. She never had an inkling.


"Mom I didn't know that. Are you suggesting I do as he wishes, my feelings be damned? I should just stay home, have babies and pretend I'm not career oriented?"


"Of course not, Alicia. Your situation is different in what your company offers with a childcare stipend and on-premises childcare, but there are compromises to be made. It does not have to be all or nothing. Perhaps you can take a longer maternity leave or perhaps work part time. There is also the option of hanging out your own shingle. You always wanted your own business. You're just like your daddy in that way. You could make that happen. There are always options."


The idea of starting her own small marketing firm was Alicia's dream. It would also allow her to work from home since much of her campaigns were done online and she could tailor her schedule. She would also get to be a hands-on mom, having the best of all possible worlds.


"Oh mom... Jefferson is so stubborn."


"Perhaps, but that man loves you… Talk to him. By the way, I felt something was wrong with my baby so I stopped by. Can I tell Forrest?"


"Of course." Phyllis wrapped her arms around her daughter, congratulating her again before leaving.




Alicia was pulling food from the oven when Jefferson walked in. He stood in the door watching her, and his heart filled with love. She was so pretty in her mini dress and the heat from the stove made her brown skin glow. He knew she would be a great mom. Turning to place the dish on the counter, she smiled at him.


"Go wash up. We have baked angel hair pasta with shrimp and garlic marinara." His stomach rumbled at the scent of the food, and he grinned before going to change. When he returned, Alicia had placed plates of food on the table, with a beer for him and tea for her. They sat, joining hands as they always did, and blessed the food. They ate quietly for several minutes before Jefferson spoke.


"I love you, Alicia." She continued eating. "I'm sorry. I was so happy to hear that we were going to have a baby, and I ruined it. I panicked and transferred my feelings about my childhood to you, to us." Placing her fork down, she looked up, giving Jefferson her full attention.


"How's Mama Marie?"


He grinned sheepishly at her insight.


"She's good, and she chopped me to bits. She cussed me out too. Most importantly, she made me think. I fell in love with a full woman. I love a full woman. I would be a damn lie if I said I am going to be happy with you going back to work when our baby is twelve weeks old, but I'll work with it. Believe or not, Morris also handed me my ass."


Picking up her fork, Alicia continued eating quietly until her plate was clean. Jefferson ate also, watching his wife. After they were done, she filled the dishwasher, and they cleaned the kitchen before she said another word. Once they were seated in the living room, Jefferson said, "Alicia, you're killing me."


"That's not my goal, but I also had a mama visit. Mine stopped by..."


"Oh no, now I'm in double trouble."


"Not at all, Jefferson. Mom actually saw both our positions." She filled him in on what Phyllis shared.


"Wow... You never knew?"


"I didn't, but what resonated was her talking about compromise. Neither of us discussed compromise. You demanded, and I snapped back. We are married, and on the parent road, I have a proposition."


"I'm listening..."


"I'll quit working at seven months..." He smiled almost smugly and that sent a frisson of desire through her, but it made her giggle. Jefferson was so sure of his charm. "However, I'm going back to work when our child turns one." As quickly as the smile appeared, it receded, though Jefferson tried to mask his dissatisfaction.




"I’m going back to work for me. I'm going to open AF Marketing from here and hire a part- time nanny and assistant. That way, I'll have the best of all possible worlds. So at the age we originally planned to have the baby, I can take care of our baby and birth a new career."


Jefferson allowed what she said to resonate and penetrate his mind, realizing he loved the sound of that, and he knew that AF stood for Alicia Forrest. Unable to speak, he covered her mouth with his, kissing her until they were breathless.


"I'm sorry baby, that's beautiful. I just want to love and care for you." Their eyes met, mirroring the love shown in one another’s.


"I know. I love you, and I want a career. It is possible you know, with love and compromise."


"Mostly love..."


Angelia Vernon Menchan

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Wednesday, May 18, 2016

WOMANISH: HOW SHE SURVIVED Coming in June Preorder

What is WomanIsh? It's all the things women go through. The day to day ish, the man ish, the raising kids ish, the I earn lots of money but still wanna be cherished ish, the I'm more than my womb ish... The what you mean I'm old ish... Sound familiar?
All of this and more is in WomanIsh: What She Survived, coming in June.

Excerpt: Her Unempowerment:

Men found Betta to be everything black men dreamed of at the time, she had light skin, was thin but shapely and could be sexy without trying. Many men vied for her attention throughout her late teens through her thirties but she ultimately
became involved with a violent man, who thought he owned her. At age thirty nine she was running for her life from one violent man, straight into the arms of another

Excerpt: I Had His Children... He Didn't Put A Ring On It

"Pregnant? I thought your doctor gave you some sponge or something?"
"I guess it didn't work." She said, watching him and his demeanor change.
He stood pacing around before he turned to her.
"You can't have it. I told my mama I wouldn't have no more babies." She stared at him in shock. He was weeks away from his thirty first birthday.

"Your mama?" A curl of derision filled her tone.
"Yea. I live with her. I'm all she's got and she's sickly. This might kill her." Sissy stood, brushing off her skirt.
"I'm having this baby. If your last child didn’t kill her, neither will this one. Deal with your mama and I'll deal with my brothers."

Friday, April 8, 2016


A few early birds sat in the white chairs that filled the elegant ballroom, so Nick took a seat in the back to wait for the start of the ceremony. He wanted to be near the door so he could make a quick exit once the wedding ended. He sat at the inside end of the row. The disdain on Mrs. Vernon’s face was burned into his mind. Not long ago, he had been one of her favorite people. Now she despised him for breaking up with Cher the way he had. If there had been some other way to handle this, he would’ve done it, but her daughter had completely shut him out after the last night they had been together. The memory of what he’d done to cause their break-up put an ache in his chest every time he replayed it in his mind.

“Do you realize we’ve been together for more than two years?” she’d asked him after they finished their dinner of homemade smothered chicken, rice, sautéed spinach and biscuits.
Cherilyn was a superb cook. She wasn’t one of those girls who agonized over every bite she put into her mouth for fear of gaining an ounce.

“Right. We met in January at Ryan’s New Year’s Eve party. I hadn’t been out anywhere in ages, because I was studying for the second phase of my licensing exam.”

“Are you happy with our relationship the way it is?” she asked, studying him intently.

“Sure I am. Aren’t you? I don’t think there are two people more compatible than we are.”

“That’s true, and it’s why I feel like we should be thinking about going to the next level.”
His eyes widened. Did she mean what he thought she meant? They were already sexually involved, so she obviously wasn’t talking about that. “Right now, we should stay right where we are. With school and all, this is not the time for me to make any major moves.”

She clasped her hands together and stared at them, lowering her lashes quickly. When she lifted her gaze, pain flickered there. “How long do you plan for us to stay where we are?”

“I don’t know, baby. Does it matter? I thought we were happy together. I am.” He smiled. She returned a blank stare.

Cherilyn spoke calmly, with no lighting of her eyes, no smile of tenderness. “Nick, you know I want to get married. I never made any secret about that. How would it change anything?”

“That’s what I want to know. How would getting married change an already great relationship?”

An expression of tired sadness passed over her features, and she sighed. “It would show me that you are serious about us. I’m not just a place to stop when you want to do your laundry or get a home-cooked meal, or get your rocks off.”

He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but the damage was already done. “I don’t think of you that way, Cher. You’re the only woman in my life, and I like it that way.”

“But I’m still not good enough for you to marry?”

“You aren’t the problem. It’s my life at the moment. School is about to kill me, and I still have years of residency facing me.”

“And you don’t think having a wife to help you would make your life easier?”

This time he was the one with the blank stare.

She rose from the sofa and clicked off the television. “My mother was so right. What reason would a man have to commit to a woman who’s already giving him everything? You should go now.”

“Baby, come on. I’m just trying to be realistic about where I’m at right now.”

“Right.” She stood with her hands on her voluptuous hips. “You’re going home, and I’m not playing wifey anymore. Lock the door on your way out.”

He gaped at her retreating back as she carried the dishes into the kitchen. “Cher…”

“Good night, Nick.”

Looking back on that night, Nick realized everything she’d said was true. Being with her had become so comfortable that he’d taken it for granted. Her sweet nature and sense of humor   calmed him after he’d had a grueling day. And she’d been there for him with the pleasure of her incredible body and her culinary skills. He was ashamed for lying to his family and telling them he and Cherilyn split because she thought he was getting too serious. He would’ve looked like a fool for letting such a wonderful woman get away.

Soft music began to play, and it played for a good twenty-five minutes with no appearance of anyone in the bridal party. The low hum of whispers gradually rose as the guests started giving restless glances over their shoulders. Everyone seemed to realize this delay was more than a bride being fashionably late, and their speculation was confirmed when the groom appeared at the front of the room with the best man at his side.

He looked visibly shaken. Nick held his breath as Derrick’s words came haltingly. “I’m sorry…but…but there’s not going to be a wedding today. Please enjoy the food and drink…and please return your gifts. I’m sorry.” The best man escorted him through a side door with his arm around the groom’s back as though he were holding him up.

Nick rushed out of the doors before he was detected by any guests who might know him. Little did they know he was as shocked by the turn of events, as they were. Cherilyn hadn’t given him any indication that she was having second thoughts. He’d needed to get away before the groomsmen or Cherilyn’s father spotted him. Mr. Vernon liked him when he and Cherilyn were dating, but their breakup had surely changed his opinion. He strode out of the ballroom as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. Once he closed himself in the car, he took out his phone and sent a text to Cherilyn before he passed through the front fountain garden and left the property. Can I come by your place? We need to talk ASAP.

Contemporary women’s fiction/romance author Chicki Brown has been featured twice in USAToday. She was the 2014 B.R.A.B. (Building Relationships Around Books) Inspirational Fiction Author and also the 2011 SORMAG (Shades of Romance Magazine) Author of the Year. Chicki was also a contributing author to the Gumbo for the Soul: Men of Honor (Special Cancer Awareness Edition).
A transplanted New Jersey native who lives in Atlanta, Georgia, Brown still misses the Jersey shore, the pizza and the hot dogs.
Nia Forrester, Beverly Jenkins, Iris Bolling, Lisa Kleypas, and J.R. Ward are among her favorite authors.

Online contacts:
Amazon Central Author Page:

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

WWAAnthology Still by Nia Forrester

'STILL' by Nia Forrester

(Mature Woman)

In her life, there had been three lovers. Leslie didn't lament the meager number, she only truly mourned the second one.

The first was her husband, Everly. They had married too young, and in haste. Leslie was only nineteen, and about to enter her sophomore year at Bryn Mawr when he proposed. They were high school sweethearts and Everly said he was eager to have things "settled" between them before she became even more "distracted" by her studies. The words 'settled' and 'distracted' should have been a clue about how he viewed her station in life, and in their relationship. Her attending college was to Everly a way for her to pass the time until she learned how to be a proper wife and mother. The proposal, earlier than they discussed, was his way of bringing her back to heel when it appeared she might instead decide to be neither.

That way of looking at her and at their relationship followed them into the bedroom. He seemed unsettled that she enjoyed sex as much as she did. Even the first time, though there had been pain, Leslie was also thrilled and aroused. She had an orgasm, and Everly was affronted by that, as though it was somehow ... unladylike of her to come. Over the remaining ten years of their marriage, Leslie gradually learned to lie still, and be quiet while he labored above her. If she got too excited, he could not perform, and after he came, he covered her chest and looked away, ashamed to have enjoyed it as much as he did. And soon, because she wasn’t allowed to be a participant so much as a spectator, Leslie didn’t enjoy it at all.

Everly died in a car accident just weeks after their tenth anniversary. She had loved him, after a fashion, and been a good wife but had not become a mother. Several months after the funeral, she met Fleming. He was a laborer she'd hired to do odd jobs around the house now that she no longer had a man. One day he caught her crying on her own in the kitchen and put his arms about her, and Leslie had practically attacked him, overwhelmed by the scent and feel of a man after so long. 

She and Fleming were lovers for almost a decade after that, on and off. Leslie was responsible for the "off" times. The Bryn Mawr Girl in her couldn't accept that the man who made her mind, her body and her heart sing only had a sixth grade education. Finally, during one of the "off's", Fleming found someone else and Leslie was alone. It took her a year to recognize that she was heartbroken, and another to admit to herself that she had been in love with Fleming all along. But by then he was irretrievable. Two years of celibacy followed, during which Leslie considered, but never acted on the urge to find a man just for sex.
Now, at 49, she had her third lover. He made neither her mind nor her heart sing. And he was only barely competent in pleasing her body. But he was a "proper" gentleman, and had courted her for months before broaching the subject of physical intimacy. His name was Anthony, and he needed extraordinary assistance before every erection, and to reach completion. Lying beneath him, her third and probably last lover, Leslie often squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and turned away from Anthony's hot breath on her face. If she concentrated really hard she could summon the scent, the taste, the feel and the bittersweet memory of Fleming, the second one.
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I Want You...And My Career in the #WWAAnthology

Jefferson's nose flared as it was prone to do when he was annoyed. Alicia’s heart lurched because he was a handsome man whom she loved completely, but no one told her that love, marriage, and having a ch...ild meant she would have to give up her career.

"We are discussing it now, Alicia. I'm not risking my child-"

"Jefferson, you have one more time to call OUR baby your child. I'm carrying our child, in our marriage, where we make life changing decisions together!"

His eyes narrowed before he turned and allowed the door to close behind him as he walked out of the house.

I think we just fought Alicia thought as she made her way to their bedroom. She was happy about becoming a mother and having their child, but giving up her career for over five years wasn't an option. She never agreed to that. She was not agreeing to that. She quickly showered and shook off the conversation. They would talk later. Jefferson was her husband, not her dictator.

Monday, February 22, 2016


Daniel Barnes stood as Arnia walked in. He allowed his eyes to inspect her. Arnia was a couple years younger than him and he remembered her as a very intimidating girl who looked straight through you and who people thought of as odd. She was born to an older mother with undisclosed illnesses and people whispered about her gifts. He wasn’t sure what those gifts were about but she looked as if she were very gifted indeed. Her attire was a bit too garish in his conservative opinion and her hair too short but the total package was something to behold. Reaching him, she offered her hand.

“Hello Daniel, it has been a long time.”

Daniel took her hand and actually kissed it but Daniel had always been the dressed up man who would kiss hands. He was moderately handsome and of average size and height with a receding hairline. His father before him owned the funeral home and he had always known what he would do. He was bedecked in a three piece suit and shiny shoes befitting his job. He offered her a seat and took one across from her.

“It is great to see you Arnia, you look amazing. What are you planning?”

“Something very simple, Ms. Ava had only one daughter and me and all her husbands and most of her friends are dead. We could do something here at the chapel and offer a repast…” a look crossed Daniel’s face.

“I think you should speak to Ms. Wilma, she wants it at St. Episcopal and a lavish feast afterwards.”

Heat rushed through Arnia; she needed to make her way to Wilma’s for sure. After all she was Ava’s only born child.

“Okay, I will do that could you help a sister out and tell me what lavish means?” Hearty chuckles escaped Daniel at Arnia’s question.

“She doesn’t mean caviar and champagne but she wants steak, sautéed greens, sweet potato soufflé and cakes by the Cake Lady for one hundred people with whiskey, she claimed her mom enjoyed whiskey.” Arnia grinned at that because Ms. Ava was known to take a sip of Johnnie Walker nightly before climbing in bed.

“That is good but where does she come up with her numbers. Most people think she was dead years ago and only me and Wilma visit her.” Daniel shrugged nonchalantly.

“That is what Ms. Wilma wants.”

“I am going to see her when I leave here and the funeral is two days later, I will let you know by tomorrow morning at the latest. In the worse scenario, we could allow people from the shelter to come eat it.”

“You are still that woman, aren’t you Arnia?”

“What woman is that Daniel?”

“The woman who cares about everything and everyone…”

“But who looks like she cares about nothing…” Arnia completed the saying for him.

“So, you knew that was how you were viewed?”

“Of course, I will be in touch.”

She walked out into the sunshine, stopping to grab a sausage and pepper roll from the food truck before getting in her car and taking the hour long drive to deal with Wilma.