Up Close and Personal with Author E N Joy


Joylynn M. Ross now writing as

BLESSEDselling Author E.N. Joy (Everybody Needs Joy)

BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy is the writer behind the five book series, “New Day Divas,” the three book series, “Still Divas,” the three book series, “Always Divas,” and the forthcoming three book series, “Forever Divas,” which have been coined “Soap Operas In Print.” She is an Essence Magazine Bestselling Author who wrote secular books under the names Joylynn M. Jossel and JOY.

After thirteen years of being a paralegal in the insurance industry, E. N. Joy divorced her career and married her mistress and her passion; writing. In 2000, she formed her own publishing company where she published her books until landing a book deal with a major publisher. This award winning author has been sharing her literary expertise on conference panels in her home town of Columbus, Ohio as well as cities across the country.

Her children’s book titled The Secret Olivia Told Me, written under the name N. Joy, received a Coretta Scott King Honor from the American Library Association.  The book was also acquired by Scholastic Books and has sold almost 100,000 copies. Elementary and middle school children have fallen in love with reading and creative writing as a result of the readings and workshops E. N. Joy instructs in schools nationwide.

In addition, she is the artistic developer for a young girl group named DJHK Gurls. She pens original songs, drama skits and monologues for the group that deal with messages that affect today’s youth, such as bullying.

You can visit BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy at www.enjoywrites.com or email her at enjoywrites@aol.com.

Did I Choose or Was I Chosen?

By E. N. Joy

There are Christian fiction writers and then there are Christians who write fiction.  There is Christian fiction, then there is what some consider to be church fiction or church drama.  You have some authors who didn’t necessarily set out to write Christian fiction, but they were placed in that category by either their publisher, or the book stores simply shelved them that way.  And of course you have the writers whose work is categorized as Christian fiction but they do not write for a Christian fiction imprint, which means they are not necessarily writing with any type of guidelines.  I can’t speak for any other Christian fiction author or author who either chose or by default was placed in the Christian fiction genre, but I am a Christian fiction writer who writes for a Christian fiction imprint.  That is my choice on purpose.    I’ll be the first to admit that, yes, I have a ghostwriter; the Holy Ghost! I take dictation from the Holy Spirit when I write my stories.  My Holy Spirit does not cuss nor does He describe explicit sex scenes for me to deliver to God’s people. I write Christian fiction, not inspirational fiction, not faith based fiction or anything else.  Christ is in what I do; “CHRISTian” fiction.  I’m not solely concerned with keepin’ it real as much as I am keepin’ it holy.  The Bible is as real as it gets and if the Holy Spirit didn’t instruct the authors of the Bible to cuss people out and describe explicit sex scenes, then I’m okay with Him not choosing me to do it either.  I believe that in my writing I have managed to both “keep it real” (as the world would say) while keepin’ it holy (for the kingdom).  My ultimate goal is, yes, to please the readers, but I must first please God. I believe with everything in my heart that God will get my book into the hands of those He intended to receive it…With my hard work and obedience of course. I urge every author to be obedient to what their own assignment is and the instructions as to how they are to complete it.   Do books with cussing, sex or even things that some Christians might find offensive to the Word of God minister to people’s heart, spirit and soul? Absolutely. To this day the book I get the most feedback on from readers as to how it changed and/or saved their lives is from my secular book titled If I Ruled the World. So with that being said, who am I to say who and what God will and won’t use to deliver His children a message? Sometimes other authors get offensive when I say I don’t use cussing and sex in my books. They begin justifying why they do. It shouldn’t provoke a person to go into defense mode just because I’m following specific instructions. Some even get mad at me. All I do is shake my head and say to myself, “Don’t get mad at me, get mad at the Holy Spirit, because it sure ain’t me who is making you feel convicted or some sort of way. I don’t have that kind of power.” Real writers, on the other hand, are totally unaffected.  Real writers write what they want no matter what anyone says or what other writers are writing.   My writing style and who I am as an author is personal for me. Never do I try to push my style of writing on anyone else. I ultimately turned my pen away from writing street lit, erotica and women’s lit filled with sexual tension and expletives in order to serve God with my talent.  God has always been there keeping, watching over and protecting me, but it wasn’t until I accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior did I acknowledge and understand just how much God loves me.  Now I live to glorify Him in everything I do, including my writing.  So I’m not only proud to be a Christian, but proud to be a Christian who writes Christian fiction. In writing in the Christian fiction genre, I try very hard to keep my mind clear; to make sure I’m in tune with the Holy Spirit when I’m writing.  But I’m going to tell the truth and shame the devil; I’m human, so just like in everyday life, when it comes to my writing, I do sometimes allow my flesh to rise up and do its own thing. I have written things that I thought the reader might want to read without consulting the true author.  Do I get convicted for it? Yes, via readers’ emails and reviews…And some of them, unlike God, have no mercy.  So I try my best to stick to ghostwriting…Holy Ghost writing that is. When I dedicated my life to Christ, a great deal of things changed for me and in me.  I couldn’t do some of the things I used to do.  I couldn’t say some of the things I used to say and I couldn’t go some of the places I used to go.  Well, I soon found that I couldn’t write some of the things I used to write.  That’s what prompted the change in the genres I chose to write in.  Joylynn M. Jossel and JOY the authors are retired for good.  Are the Joylynn M. Jossel and JOY books still available?  Yes, they are.  They can still be found and ordered in bookstores and are in pretty much every online book store. My die-hard fans can even still find Joylynn at www.joylynnjossel.com. That’s part of my testimony, my history and foundation as an author. But for readers who want to know what flows through my spirit today can find me at www.enjoywrites.com. Let me close by saying that once upon a time my goal was to write what readers wanted to read and become a famous author through my writings. But now I know that my purpose is to make God famous through my writings, not myself.   Author Interview :

1) What is the one thing you would like all of your readers to know about you?

  • That I live breathe, eat and sleep (well, not much sleep) this literary thing. It’s real. It’s not a hobby. It’s not something I do on the side. It’s my life. I take it serious. It’s my craft, my career, my first love and now it’s my ministry. With that being said, readers need to know that when I put something out for them, I’m truly giving them my all. And if I fall short of their expectations, I’ll do everything I can to try to do a better job next time in order to earn and keep their readership.

    2) What distracts you from writing the easiest?

    I’m easily distracted if there is clutter amongst me. It doesn’t even have to be within my view. If I just know there is clutter around me, I can’t focus or concentrate. If I walked past a sink full of dishes an hour ago and know they are still sitting in the sink, I can’t sit down and write. The same goes for if there is a load of laundry that needs to be put away or lint on the carpet that needs to be swept. I can’t function until it’s complete, decent and in order. My atmosphere must represent what’s going on in my mind. I can’t operate under clutter…Physically, literally or in the mind. Clutter blocks my creative flow. I can write a novel with my kids arguing, fussing and fighting in the background…As long as their rooms are clean (smile).

    3) What do you do for relaxation?

    For relaxation I read; go figure. Hey, for an author, any type of reading is called homework. That’s just one way of studying the craft. I also belong to a breakfast club in which a group of us ladies get together every month and take turns hosting breakfast. You should see us going on YouTube and looking up recipes trying to outdo each other. Every other year we go out of the country and sample breakfast foods from other cultures, and of course enjoy the beaches and sunsets. Every single year without missing a beat I go on a family vacation with my husband and children. Just spending time with them always give me amazing joy.

    4) How did you become a writer?

    I have been writing since the days of elementary school journals and rainy day writings. I started out just writing poems, then graduated to short stories. My first self-published book, Please Tell Me If the Grass Is Greener, was a mixture of poetry and short stories. Well, actually it’s poetic short stories; short stories told in a rhythmic flow. Kind of like a Dr. Seuss book for Grown-ups-LOL. I love La La Land. Growing up, my escape from reality was the La La Land I invented with pen and paper. So, I guess that is truly what drove me to pick up the pen for the first time and begin to take a genuine interest in writing. It was an escape. Some people use drugs, some people use alcohol, some people use sex to escape while other people might use guns. I used a pen and the wonderful English vocabulary. I’d always been a reader, as that was another escape of mine. Ramona the Pest, Nancy Drew and those Little House on the Prairie books were my favorites. But then one day I got my hands on one of my auntie’s grown-up books, which was Black Girl Lost by Donald Goines. It was the first book I’d ever read with main characters that looked like me. With characters that walked, talked and thought like me. I just remember sneaking the book out at night time and reading it while lying in bed. I was so deeply enthralled that I felt like I became that little girl who was lost. I just remember closing that book upon the final chapter and saying to myself, “One day I’m going to write a book that does that to people.” I think I’ve accomplished that.

    5) If you could interview one of your favorite authors, who would it be? Why?

    Everyone who knows me knows that Brenda Jackson is my idol. I virtually stalk her. I sign up for her newsletters. I friended her on Facebook. I like her fan page. Whatever she is doing, I want to know about. Now, the great thing about this is that I don’t have to interview her. Over the years, just by watching her—just being quiet and sitting back watching everything she does—I’ve learned an abundance of PRICELESS information. See, we don’t always have to inbox or send emails to folks and ask them a string of questions. We can learn far more by being quiet—watching and listening—than we ever could with a list of ten questions or a thirty minute Internet radio interview. In any field a person might want to go into, I always suggest they find that person who is doing what they want to do and who is successful at doing it. They should study that person and follow their blueprint; not to become that person, but to become better than that person. We have to always be mindful to raise the bar.

    12029135_10153520539107631_672069261_nLorain has been a prisoner of her secrets for almost her entire life. At the age of thirteen, she managed to keep her pregnancy a secret, discarding the infant and leaving it for dead. Years later, Lorain’s mother finally met the love of her life, and Lorain couldn’t find the courage to tell her mother that her new beau was the man who molested Lorain and impregnated her. Now, to complicate matters, Lorain discovers that the baby she abandoned all those years ago survived, and God has placed Lorain in her now adult child’s life. It seems like the legacy of secrets has been passed on, too, as Lorain helps her daughter conceal the true details behind one of her own pregnancies.

    Lorain has managed to maneuver the secrets and lies like pieces in a strategic game of chess and is now living the lavish, fairy-tale life of a doctor’s wife. But even that is a lie. With the rug about to be pulled out from under Lorain by the woman who raised her abandoned child, all Lorain prays for is that everything will end well. In this cycle of lies, secrets, shame, and guilt, will Lorain get what she prays for?

    Purchase link :


    12030696_10153520629252631_2131180114_nIt ain’t easy being saved, sanctified, and single. Try being a once divorced, now widowed single mother of two on top of that. Thank God the Lord built Paige Vanderdale to be able to bear all of those titles without becoming weary to the point of giving up. From the outside looking in, that life looks good on her. On the inside, though, Paige is coveting what so many others around her seem to have, which is true love.

    In the past, everything that she thought was love was either something far from it, or was taken away from her. Now Paige is afraid to let her hair down and open herself up to love again.

    Paige struggles with the decision to reach out to an old flame to rekindle their spark. When the blaze gets too high, will Paige do what she always does, which is grab the nearest fire extinguisher and try to put it out? Or will she utilize her backup plan and run? The decision is abruptly removed from Paige’s hands when something else begins to pull her away–something that just might be the thing that finally breaks her.

    Pre- order  Purchase Link:


Under Covers Virtual Tour


rhonda Bowen Pic

Author Bio

Rhonda Bowen knew she would be a writer as early as eighth grade when she wrote her first

novel with a classmate in a dollar notebook. While waiting for the day to come she completed a

degree in Communications and spent a few years working in Public Relations and Event

Planning. Throughout this time however, her desire to write stayed alive. She eventually

completed her first novel, Man Enough for Me, which was released under Kensington Books’

Dafina imprint in February 2011.

Several years, a stint in Asia and a career change to youth work finds her still writing. She has

written four romance novels and her books have been featured in PUBLISHERS WEEKLY and

LIBRARY JOURNAL. Her latest novel Under Covers was released March 16, 2015. She writes

about the themes of Real Life, Real Love and Real Faith, weaving stories about strong women

who must deal with life and love without losing themselves. Sometimes they succeed, other

times they make a mess of things while trying.

When not writing or being schooled on what’s current by the youth she works with, she enjoys

chilling with her family, trying on shoes she can’t afford, bargain hunting online on Asian clothes

websites and enjoying the great outdoors. Visit her online at http://www.rhondabowen.com ,

http://www.facebook.com/RhondaBowenBooks or drop her a note at rhondakbowen@yahoo.com


Synopsis /Excerpts

Naomi Savoy is five days away from marrying Jordan Lennox, the man of her dreams, when she

is faced with her worst nightmare. Her sister is missing. When her search for her sister sets her on

a path into her past, she is forced to ask for help from the last person on earth she ever wished to

see again – Garth Duhaney – a man she has both loved and hated for most of her life and whose

power over her she has never been able to break.

Jordan Lennox knows his wife-to-be is hiding things in her past. But his love for her keeps him

believing that one day she will come clean. But when the secrets force him on a trip across the

ocean only days before their wedding, he begins to question whether love is really enough.

Will love keep them together or will it all fall apart when everything is uncovered?

[Medium Length Description]

Naomi is days away from marrying the man of her dreams when she must face the man of her

nightmares. But even though it is an encounter she would like to avoid, the clock is ticking and

she is running out of other options. Jordan knows there are layers to his future wife that he has yet

to uncover. But when he starts peeling them back will he be able to handle all he discovers? Find

out in Under Covers

[Short Description]

Naomi Savoy is ready to leap into her future with husband-to-be Jordan Lennox. But can you

really plan for the future if you haven’t dealt with your past?

[Short Description 2]

Jordan has everything: money, power and respect, and he is ready to put a ring on Naomi’s finger

and make it hers. But is it enough to keep her from running to a man in her past for what she


Under Covers Excerpts:

Excerpt 1:

The first sign was the milk. The glass bottle hit the ground as soon as she opened

the fridge door. It shattered into a thousand pieces. Naomi’s body went still. She watched

the white fluid seep through her toes and spread across the floor while the feeling of

dread seeped over her stomach.

Her mother always had a thing about milk. She said the milk had been sour the

morning Naomi’s grandfather died. The creamer had leaked all over the fridge the day

her cousin, Marika, lost her baby. And even Naomi, who was usually the more practical

one, couldn’t forget the fly she found floating peacefully in the saucer of white liquid the

night before she lost her job at Whisper. Bad milk was a bad sign – especially the week of

your wedding.

Excerpt 2

She slipped out of the office and down the corridor to her own space. Jordan must

have heard her voice. He leaned lazily against the door frame, looking better in a collared

shirt and jeans than the photo-shopped image of a bare-chested J. Cole that she had seen

just moments earlier. Naomi felt the heat begin at her toes and travel all the way through

her as their eyes locked.

How had she gotten this lucky?

“Good morning, Red.” His eyes devoured her as the distance closed between


“Good morning.”

He pulled her into his arms. Naomi sank into him willingly as he parted her

smiling lips with his.

“Babe, the whole office can see us,” she murmured against his delicious mouth.

“Good.” He kissed her again. “Let them see what Black love looks like.”

Excerpt 3

Naomi rolled her luggage behind her as she headed to check-in for her flight.

“Natasha, you’re making way too big a deal about this,” Naomi tried to sound

rational. “The way I see it, I’ll be in Port of Spain by midday, sort this crap out in twenty

four hours and be back by Thursday night, three whole days before the wedding.”

“And how exactly do you plan to find your sister whom you didn’t even know

was going to Trinidad and has a twenty-four hour head start on you?” Natasha’s heels

clicked as she walked along behind Naomi. “I know Trinidad is small, but it’s still more

than 5000 square miles with over a million people. You got some special resources I

don’t know about?”

Naomi wrinkled her nose but didn’t look at her friend. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Natasha echoed. “Like wha…”

Natasha grabbed Naomi’s arm so suddenly, she nearly fell on her behind. But

before Naomi could protest, Natasha had whirled her around to face her.

“Naomi, please tell me you didn’t….”

Naomi couldn’t hold her friend’s intense gaze. “I had to…”

“Oh my God…” Natasha seemed to lose her strength as she sat down hard on

Naomi’s suitcase.

“He’s a police officer, a Sergeant,” Naomi protested. “He can help me find her…”

“He can lead you off a freakin’ cliff,” Natasha hissed. She stared incredulously at

her friend. “Are you seriously this dense that you would even consider having anything to

do with that man again?”

“’Tasha, he’s not that bad….”

“Not that bad?” Natasha screeched. “Have you lost your long term memory? Do

you remember what happened ten months ago? I almost lost you!”

“That wasn’t his fault….”

“It was completely his fault…”

“But things are different now,” Naomi protested.

“They always end up the same when he is around,” Natasha argued. “It was like

that in college, and it was like that last year when he came to visit.”

“But I am different now,” Naomi insisted. “I am not that girl anymore.”

Natasha shook her head. She dug into her purse. “I can’t deal with this. You want

to pour your life down the drain again fine, but someone else will have to supervise it.”

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “I don’t have the energy to watch you do

that to yourself again. I’m calling Jordan.”

Excerpt 4

His voice was rough. It hit Naomi like the bark of a tree against her bare back.

When she turned to look at him, she found that he looked just as wild, the uniform and all

it represented did nothing to tame him. Dark eyes, the color of coffee, stood out against

nutmeg toned skin. Naomi had thought that officers were required to be clean shaven, but

with the deep shadow on his square jawline, Naomi saw that Garth still broke the rules.

But the scruffiness didn’t take away from him at all. He was still as handsome as she

remembered. That never changed.

“Garth, wow, a uniform,” Latoya said dryly. “Never seen you in one of those

before. Does it help you remember that you’re a cop?”

“Nice to see you too, Toya.” His tone was dismissive, partly because there was no

love lost between the two of them, but mostly because he was too busy staring Naomi

down. And as she stared right back without flinching, Naomi suddenly knew exactly why

Natasha and Latoya were concerned. Truthfully, they had every right to be.

Waves of hot and cold rushed over her. Her mouth felt dry. Naomi was sure that

at any moment she would start shaking.

Social Media Link

Rhonda Bowen www.rhondabowen.com


facebook : https://www.facebook.com/Rhondakbowen?fref=ts

Author Rhonda Bowen

Purchase Links :



Barnes and  Nobles :

All Torn Up

11014636_10206068898220474_11406295747753375_nComing April 21st

All Torn Apart.

Can one woman tame the biggest philanderer to walk the streets of Memphis? Gunner Hawthorne is the sexiest, wealthiest, and the most colossal prick you’ll ever meet. He’s at the top of his career game and has everything to show for it. Gunner is preparing his team for one of the biggest takeovers in cosmetic history. Gunner, as usual, is full of himself as he insults the female owner of his company’s biggest competitor, Vrede Cosmetics. He is now forced to make what he wronged back right. But, can Gunner woo Vrede without falling for her in the process?

Teardrops Know My Name



She regarded him silently for a moment, gazing into his dark brown eyes and watching a smile curve his lips. “I think that it would be. You don’t know me very well. I’ve had too many heartbreaks, and I’m in a vulnerable state right now where I may be incapable of making good choices. I don’t ever want to end up where I am right now—in this same place—again. For God’s sake, my last boyfriend was married, and I had absolutely no idea. How could I not have known? Other people were able to see the red flags, but I didn’t see a thing.”
“I hear what you’re saying, and I understand, but you can’t live the rest of your life that way. You can’t shield yourself from getting to know someone and never open yourself up to love again because of your past relationships.” He sipped water from the glass in front of him. His eyes were fixed on hers.
He stood and came around to her side of the booth, sat next to her, and reached for her hand, taking it into his and intertwining their fingers. He slowly lifted her hand to his mouth and gently pressed his lips to the back of it. Feeling his warm breath against the skin of her hand made her tremble. “I promise you that if you give me a chance, you won’t need to worry about anything. You will see no red flags when it comes to me. I have no secrets and no hidden agenda,” he said softly, lips brushing against her hand again. He lifted his eyes, looking her straight in the face.
Damn. He’s making this difficult. She couldn’t think clearly. Her senses had been heightened by his sensual touch, his silky smooth dark skin, and his masculine musk mixed with the spicy cologne he wore. She had to stop herself from being drawn in by this magnetic force that threatened to take her over mentally and physically.
He tipped her head up with his finger and lowered his mouth onto hers, brushing his lips against hers, teasing her, barely touching them at first. Then he whispered against her lips, “Please give me”— soft kiss—“a chance.”
Linda had to admit that she wanted Sean. There was something about him that stirred her soul. But was she willing to throw caution to the wind as she had done in the past? When she thought about it, she had always jumped from one relationship to another without giving herself a break in between. Maybe that was the problem. Was she codependent? Did she need to be in a relationship in order to feel whole? She needed some distance from Sean to find out more about who she was and what she wanted for herself in life.
It took every bit of her self-control and willpower to pull away from his kiss. She breathed in deeply. She knew she needed to say what she didn’t want to say. She mentally prepared herself to resist what she knew would be another attempt from him to pursue the idea of them being in a relationship. She slid a few inches away from him in an effort to prevent any further temptation, and she watched his shoulders droop.

Purchase Link:


Cover Reveal for The Enclave of Jyme


Blurb :

As a child, Jyme Samson believed his family trait was a curse and he tried his best to cope with it. His high school sweetheart Elle was there for him every step of the way until betrayal sat foot on his doorstep and tore them apart, making him doubt everything he ever believed. All he wanted was to leave the past behind. When he met Cricket Hooper, his desire to be everything she needed forced him to enclave into the real Jyme—the man he’s always wanted to be. Every story has two sides. In Heels of Love and Wounded Love, Cricket had her say. Now it’s time to see the story through Jyme’s eyes. This is his story from the first moment he laid eyes on her and knew she was the real meaning of his existence.

COMING February 12, 2015

First Family Secrets Blog Stop

Book Title: First Family Secrets

Paperback Pages : 290

Genre : Christian Fiction

Publishing Company: Dorsey Publication

ISBN:  0692250905

ISBN: 978-0692250907

Meet The Author

Makasha Dorsey Headshot

Makasha Dorsey Bio

Makasha Dorsey is an award-winning author, motivational speaker and publishing industry

publicist.  In May 2014 Dorsey released “First Family Secrets”, the first book in The Church

House series. In addition to writing full length literary works, Makasha likes to challenge her

creativity by writing shorts stories and personal essays. She published her first short story My

Best Friend’s Brother in early 2012 and is a contributor to Surfacing … Phenomenal Women on

Passion, Politics, and Purpose (2006, Outskirts Press) and The Motherhood Diaries (2013,

Strebor Books). She blogs about being a writer, mother, wife, woman and Christian over at a

http://www.MakashaDorsey.com and has written for Bridal Tribe Magazine, The Midwest Book

Review, The Daily Times Leader, and ModVive Magazine.

FFS 742014 ebook cover

“A secret worth killing for threatens to destroy two families and an entire


Synopsis :

As a child, Tangela Houston experienced “sanctified” cruelty at the hands of her doctrine driven

mother. Had it not been for her father’s kind, faithful heart and a desire to find her true self,

she would have gladly exchanged Christianity for a pair of designer boots. But when she accepts

an invitation from Felecia Williams, her mentor and direct supervisor, to visit Greater

Tabernacle Christian Center, Tangela rededicates her life to God at the feet of Pastor Keith

Mitchell, a man who would do anything to keep secrets from his past hidden. She even bumps

into college crush turned professional football player Eric Parker and rekindles the old flame.

Her confidence in her newfound relationship with the Savior and Eric is shattered when she

finds herself accused of murdering Felecia and in the arms of David Moss, the newly appointed

minister of music, who is tied to her in a way that will change her life forever.

Excerpt :

Tangela waited for her mother’s loud, commanding voice to slice through the morning’s thick

quietness. Terrified that something would tick off the woman, who was already short fused and

looking for a reason to spank the child, Tangela scanned the room and decided to straighten

her covers, fluff her pillows, and tuck the stray hairs back under her headscarf. She lay on her

pillow, staring up at the pink floral printed canopy delicately tied to the white washed, solid oak

four-post bed.

It won’t be long now, Tangela thought as she listened to her mother make her way down the


As much as she wished her father would make the morning wake up rounds, Tangela knew it

was totally out of the question. Her mother, First Lady Ruthie Houston, thought it totally

inappropriate for a man to see a young girl in her pajamas, even if the young girl was his

daughter. Mama, as Tangela called her with biting contempt, would rather have her teeth

knocked out than to allow her daughter to live a normal life. It would take a strong person to

knock out those teeth as Ruthie stood at five-foot-eleven and stoutly weighing at least 240


Everyone outside the walls of the Houston home pegged Ruthie as a loving wife and doting but

strict mother. Unfortunately, Tangela knew the real woman behind the long skirts and loud

amens. Ruthie took being the wife of a Church of God in Christ pastor to a whole new level. The

woman enjoyed her husband’s position and absolutely refused to have anyone, especially their

child, cloud his name. Tangela had to be well-behaved at all times and adhere to all of the rules

set forth by the Church and by God’s Word.

Other children could watch television, go swimming, and ride the bus to school. Tangela’s

mother subscribed to the belief that everything fun was sinful and didn’t mind letting her

seven-year-old daughter know it.

“Amy can do whatever her parents allow,” Tangela’s mother told her after she asked to go to

the girl’s birthday party. “No child of mine is going to a pool party. Good girls don’t wear

swimsuits and should not be seen in public in soaking wet t-shirts.”

“But,” Tangela said.

Ruthie slapped Tangela across the face and proclaimed, “You will do as I say.”

Tangela ran her hands across the spot her mother slapped the night before. She looked at her

closed door and then at the old-fashioned alarm clock on her night table. The short hand

pointed to the seven—the long hand, to the four. Since it was Sunday morning, Tangela’s

mother wouldn’t come into her room for another twenty minutes. School days were different.


Monday through Friday she left home by 7:30 a.m. dressed to the nines. Tangela road forty-five

minutes to attend Holy Lambs Christian Academy. She didn’t know what was so private about

the school because she knew everyone there.

“The school is private because unruly children cannot attend school with good kids like you,”

Ruthie explained while looking at Tangela through the rearview mirror at the beginning of the

school year. “Public schools are for them, the bad kids.”

Saturdays brought about entirely different challenges. While other children slept in or rose

early to watch cartoons, Tangela got up at six for breakfast and then accompanied her parents

to the roughest parts of town to witness to sinners.

She liked visiting sinners because they usually had children. While the grown-ups talked in the

living room or the kitchen, the kids played outside. If it was cold or rainy, they watched

television in another room, away from the adults.

A few Saturdays ago her parents went on vacation, so she went witnessing with Leroy and Judy

Rice, members of Tangela’s father’s church who happened to teach at Holy Lambs. Tangela

liked Mr. Rice more than she liked Mrs. Rice. Judy was almost as mean as Ruthie.

The sinner she visited with the Rice’s lived in Open Arms Housing Projects. Tangela looked

fearfully at the broken windows and graffiti brick as Judy urged her to walk faster. A man

wearing a torn, red plaid shirt and white tight underpants limped quickly toward the trio

shouting cuss words, angry that Leroy refused to acknowledge him as he begged for money.

The sinner woman opened the door and invited them in just as the man started cussing.

Tangela had never seen a home so poorly kept. Papers with crayon scribbles covered the glass

coffee table, stuffed animals made a soft mountain on the blue velvet love seat, and the carpet

had visible dirt stains. But the woman, who introduced herself as Karen, proudly offered

everyone a seat and then called for her children to come into the living room.

Two girls, who appeared to be seven or eight, ran into the living room still in African-American

Barbie pajamas. Tangela had never seen Black Barbie dolls. The girls were not dressed properly

for company but appeared happier than all the kids who went to church with her.

Tangela looked around and waited for the rest of the family. No one else came. There was just a

mommy, no daddy—and the two girls.

Leroy and Judy followed the same routine as Tangela’s parents, adults in the front talking, kids

playing somewhere else. The mom with no dad for her children told the kids to play in her

bedroom because it was the only one with a television, and the crime was too bad for them to

play outside.

The girls decided to play dress up. Tangela stared around the room, amazed at all of the grown

up girly stuff. There were red dresses, see through animal print scarves, and perfume bottles.

Make up and nail polish littered almost every surface. Karen’s clothes looked like they belonged

to a rich woman, nothing like the old-lady clothes her mom wore. A thick, satin red bedspread

with matching pillows covered a heart-shaped bed.

The oldest girl, who couldn’t have been more than a year older than Tangela said, “Before we

get started, we should introduce ourselves. I’m Mercedes, and this is my sister, Lexus.”

Tangela laughed and said, “Those aren’t your real names. You’re trying to trick me. Mercedes

and Lexus are cars.”

“We know they’re cars, but they’re our names, too.”

“My name is Tangela. I’m sorry for making fun.”

“That’s okay, your name sounds like a fruit,” Mercedes said while looking in her mom’s vanity

mirror trying to untie the knot in her headscarf. “You are pretty and light skinned like my sister.

I’m black ‘cause my daddy is real black. Is that your momma and daddy up there talking to my


“No. My mom and dad are on vacation.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes. “So, who do you look like?”

“I don’t know,” Tangela said after she thought about it for a few moments.

“Your momma and daddy must be light just like mine,” Lexus said.

“Nope. My mom and dad are the same color as Mercedes.”

Both of the girls looked confused. Mercedes said, “Then your momma don’t know who your

daddy is. My momma’s girlfriend doesn’t know who her little boy’s daddy is. It’s okay ‘cause

your daddy must be too stupid to know. His feelings won’t be hurt ‘cause he’ll probably leave

your momma to raise you by herself just like our daddies.”

Tangela shook her head. “My daddy loves me. And I don’t have to look like anyone. I look like

my own self.”

Lexus yoked her neck as she scolded Mercedes. “Momma told you about being in grown folks’

business. You’re gonna get a whuppin’ if you don’t shut your mouth.”

Mercedes sighed, sucked her teeth, and said, “Come on, girl. Let’s put some make-up and high

heel shoes on.”

Excited, Tangela mimicked Mercedes’ dress up technique. She had never played dress up. Her

mom didn’t have stuff she wanted to play with anyway. All her mom ever wore was long-

sleeved black dresses and skirts that nearly touched the floor. She didn’t wear makeup and only

wore white on first Sundays.

“Tangela,” Judy called, “let’s go.”

Tangela rushed to put on her shoes and headed up the hallway. The girls waved goodbye to

each other.

“Where do you think you’re going looking like a Jezebel?” Judy grabbed her and wiped her face

with a Kleenex, and said, “You just like your momma looking like some street walker.” She hit

Tangela hard on the back, just above her shoulder blade.

“You can take a child from its momma, but can’t take the momma out the child,” Leroy said.

Mercedes and Lexus’ mom looked embarrassed and asked Judy and her husband to leave. She

screamed something about them being hypocrites and that God would get them for mistreating

a child like that.

“We didn’t mean you,” Judy tried to clean up her statement.

“You just meant people who wear make-up like me.”

Tangela went home that day, not mentioning any of the things that was said or done while out

witnessing. Mercedes’ words did cause Tangela to wonder because she really didn’t look like

her mother or father.


“Maybe my daddy really isn’t my dad, and it makes Mama upset,” she said to Lily, her pillow

baby. Tangela used a small pillow as a baby doll.

“Dolls are not allowed in my home,” her mother told her grandmother, who had purchased

Tangela a Cabbage Patch Kid with real hair. “It encourages girls to become unwed mothers.”

“Tangela,” her mother called from the hallway, “get out of that bed.”

Tangela tucked the pillow baby under the other pillows, and jumped out of bed. One foot

landed on the light green, shag rug and the other slid into her slippers just before her mother

turned on the light. She stood in place and squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light beaming

from the 100-watt bulb overhead.

“Stop looking crazy! You know that since your daddy has been elected regional superintendent

of our church we have to get there on time!” Her mother walked over to the closet, pulled out a

long sleeved, ankle length, navy blue sailor girl dress, hung it on the back of the door, and said,

“Make your bed! Only nasty people leave their beds unmade.”

After straightening out the fitted sheet, Tangela crafted perfect hospital corners with the flat

one over the mattress at the foot of the bed then made sure it laid smoothly over the fitted

sheet. She placed her perfectly-fluffed pillows in front of the headboard before going into her

bathroom to wash up.

She took off her pajama top revealing her white spaghetti strapped tank top, turned on her

bath water, and drug her step stool over to the sink. Tangela grabbed her toothbrush from the

holder and placed it on the counter. Knowing that it would be difficult to get anything out of

the flat tube of Crest, she rolled the tube from the bottom and tried to force at least a dab of

the green gel onto her toothbrush. Nothing. Tangela turned off the bathtub’s running faucet

and headed up the hall to the main linen closet to retrieve a new tube of toothpaste.

“Get back in your room, walking around half-naked,” her mother yelled.

“Momma, I don’t have any tooth…”

Her mother slapped her in the mouth, causing her to fall to the floor. Tangela wailed as her

mother hit her repeatedly. “Shut up when I am speaking to you. And do what I tell you.”

“Ruthie!” Tangela’s father grabbed the woman’s arm. “Stop hitting my child.”

“Do you see what she’s walking around the house in, Kevin?” Ruthie said.

“She’s a seven year old wearing pajamas.” He took Tangela’s hand and started walking toward

her bathroom.

Tangela sobbed. “I need toothpaste.”

Her father grabbed a new tube of toothpaste for Tangela’s bathroom, took her into her

bedroom, and told her to close her eyes. She obeyed and listened to her father’s footsteps fade

into the distance and then return.

“Open your eyes,” her father said.

When Tangela opened her eyes, she saw a three ruffle, yellow taffeta dress with a matching

purse. She ran over to the garment and caressed the fabric. “Daddy! “It’s so pretty and my

favorite color.”

“I know, baby. You look like a ray of sunshine in yellow. Did I ever tell you that your very first

dress was yellow?”

“Yeah, Daddy.” Tangela looked at the floor.

“What’s wrong?” Her father picked her up.

“I know why Mommy doesn’t like me.”

“Who said your mother doesn’t like you?”

“No one, but she is always mean to me. I think she knows that you are not my real daddy

because I am light-skinned, and you guys are dark. She’s mad about it because you’re going to

leave her to take care of me all alone, with no help.”

He stroked Tangela’s long, curly hair, reassuring her in a loving, fatherly tone, “That’s not true.

We are different skin tones because God, our father, made us that way. Your mom has had a lot

on her mind lately, but I will have a talk with her.” He kissed Tangela on the forehead and left.


Tangela heard her parents screaming at each other through the adjoining bedroom’s wall.

“Kevin, you have got to stop spoiling that girl.”

“How is being a good, caring father going to spoil Tangela?” he asked his wife.

“You keep buying her all them colorful dresses. You’re turning her into a Jezebel just like her…”

Tangela’s father interrupted so she did not hear the last part of her mother’s statement.

“Don’t you ever say that again,” Kevin warned. “I treat you so kind. Why can’t you treat Tangela

that way? If you didn’t want her, we should have never-”

Tangela ran into the room, completely dressed in the new outfit her father laid out for her, and

screamed, “Stop it. Just, stop it. I hate having a momma and a daddy. I saw two girls last week

and they were happy with only a momma. I wish I only had a daddy!”

Purchase Link: Amazon


Connect with Makasha online:

Website: http://www.MakashaDorsey.com

Facebook: makashadorsey

Twitter: @makasha

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Angela Benson Author of Delilah’s Daughters and Many More


Though Angela Benson began writing fiction in Miss Milizo’s fifth grade English class, her first book was not published until 1994, more than thirty years later! Since then, Angela has published thirteen novels, two novellas, and a nonfiction writing book. Her books have appeared on national, regional and local bestseller lists, and she has won several writing awards, including Best Multicultural Romance from Romantic Times magazine, Best Contemporary Ethnic Romance from Affaire de Coeur magazine and the Emma Award for Best Inspirational Romance.

After publishing seven romance novels and one novella with Kensington’s Arabesque Books and Silhouette Special Edition, Angela made a faith move to Christian fiction in 2000 with the publication of Awakening Mercy, the first book in her Genesis House series from Tyndale House Publishers. Awakening Mercy was a finalist for both the RITA Award for Excellence in Romance Fiction given by Romance Writers of America (RWA) and the Christy Award for Excellence in Christian Fiction. The second book in the series, Abiding Hope, was awarded the Emma Award for Best Inspirational Romance.  Angela’s first hardcover title and her third Genesis House book, The Amen Sisters (Walk Worthy Press, 2005) made the Essence Bestseller list and won the Emma Award for Best Inspirational Romance.

HarperCollins has published Angela’s most recent titles. Up Pops the Devil (2008) was named an African-American Book Club Pick at Books-A-Million and was featured in an issue of UPSCALE Magazine. It was followed by Sins of the Father (2009) and Showers of Blessings, a novella in the A Million Blessings anthology (Dafina Books, 2010).

In 2009, Angela was diagnosed with breast cancer.  After completing a rigorous treatment plan that included surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation coupled with a huge dose of faith and prayer, she resumed her writing career with the publication of Delilah’s Daughters (HarperCollins, 2014).  She recently learned that Delilah’s Daughters has been named one of the Library Journal’s Best Books of 2014 and a finalist for the 2014 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award.

Angela is currently working on her fourteenth novel, The Summer of Me, which will be published by HarperCollins in August 2015.  In 2012, Angela began releasing revised, e-book only editions of her early romances.  Updated versions of Friend and Lover (novella), The Way Home and The Nicest Guy in America are currently available.  Bands of Gold, For All Time and Between the Lines will be available in Spring 2015 along with her fourth Genesis House title, Enduring Love.  An updated version of Telling the Tale: The African-American Fiction Writer’s Guide (Berkley Books, 2000) is also available in e-book only format with the new title, Telling Your Tale: A Beginner’s Guide to Writing Fiction for Print and eBook.

Angela has a diverse education and work history. She majored in mathematics at Spelman College and Industrial Engineering at the Georgia Institute of Technology (Georgia Tech), and worked for fifteen years as an engineer in the telecommunications industry. She holds Masters degrees in operations research and human resources development. Her most recent degree is a doctorate in instructional technology from the University of Georgia. Dr. Benson is now an associate professor of educational technology at The University of Alabama

DeliliahMore about Delilah’s Daughters

ISBN-10: 0062002716 ISBN-13: 978-0062002716 Publisher: William Morrow Paperbacks Available: January 28,

“I could not put it down. The themes of faith, family and forgiveness drew me in and wouldn’t let go until the very last page.” -Vanessa Miller, bestselling author of How Sweet the Sound

An inspirational story about the allure of fame and the faith that binds a family forever . . .

Delilah Monroe has done everything in her power to keep her three daughters strong since the death of her husband. And a big part of that connection is their singing group, Delilah’s Daughters. Veronica, Roxanne, and Alisha each have their own unique sense of self, but they all share the dream of Delilah’s Daughters hitting the Billboard charts.

Now, just as they enter the final round of a national talent show, a record producer approaches Veronica with the promise of fame . . . if she goes solo. Then the man Delilah has always leaned on wants more from her than just friendship, and someone from her past comes calling with a shocking secret. Will Delilah be able to hold her family together?





On days like today, Rocklin “Rocky” Monroe hated being dead.

He eased down on the bench next to his wife, Delilah, who sat at the piano near the back of the stage, beaming with pride as their three daughters, “Delilah’s Daughters,” as he’d named their singing trio, took their bows to a standing ovation at the annual Gospelfest in Birmingham, Alabama. The sassy and upbeat rendition of “Revive Us Again,” arranged by their youngest, Alisha, had brought the house to its feet. He put his arm around Delilah’s shoulders. You did good, sweetheart, he whispered, even though he knew neither she nor those around her could hear him.

She shivered, rubbed her arms, and he knew she felt his presence. “These are our girls, Rocky,” she murmured softly. “I’m so proud of them, and I know you would be too.”

I am proud of them! he wanted to shout, but knew it would do no good. He could see her, touch her, smell her, but she could only sense his presence. As he’d learned in the three years since a blood clot in his lung led to his untimely and totally unexpected demise, being dead was certainly a limiting experience.

The applause grew amid chants of “Praise Him!” and “More, more!” The girls glanced back at their mother, whose fingers flowed across the keyboard as they launched into Alisha’s rendition of “Take My Life and Let It Be.” Their eldest, Roxanne, who had the best voice of the three, brought the lyrics alive. When she crooned, “Take my voice and let me sing,” he jumped to his feet along with the audience. Who could keep sitting when his baby poured out her heart and soul that way? It was as though her words became the words of the hearts of her listeners. It wasn’t her song anymore; it was everybody’s song.

Alisha and Veronica backed Roxanne up in perfect harmony. Their choreographed movements, which he knew to be the work of Veronica, the born entertainer of the family, were every bit as powerful as the lyrics. The three of them were angels, singing and dancing with joy before their Lord.

The song ended with the audience on its feet in another ovation and moment of praise. He rushed toward his girls, his heart more full of love now than it had ever been. He wondered how that could be possible, since he had loved them with all that was in him when he was alive. Maybe his heart had grown larger in death.

He reached Alisha first. His baby girl was the shy one who had always been closer to her mother than to him. He brushed a kiss against her forehead and whispered, I love you, in her ear. When he pulled back, her eyes were full of tears. She missed him, he knew, but she also knew he loved her and that he was there with her.

He moved next to Roxanne, favoring her with a kiss and the same I love you. Parents weren’t supposed to have favorites, but God help him, Roxanne had been his favorite. He guessed it was because she was most like him. While Alisha and Veronica enjoyed singing, Roxanne had to sing. The music gave her life and purpose. She sang when she was happy and when she was sad. He knew, too, that she sang when she missed him, sang until she felt him in every part of her being. In those times, he saw her heart in ways he hadn’t seen it when he’d been alive. Sometimes he ached for Roxanne because along with sharing his love for music, she also shared his willingness to do anything for it. Praying she would make better choices than he had, he pressed a second kiss against her forehead, then moved on to his middle daughter.

Ah, Veronica, the child he least understood. She worried him more than the other two. He reached her as the trio moved down the stairs in front of the stage and toward the audience. He managed a whisper kiss against her cheek, so fleeting he was unsure she even felt it. His heart ached that Veronica was as elusive to him in his death as she had been when he was alive. Her thirst for the limelight scared him at times. While he was glad that she was so at ease with the spotlight, he didn’t want it to consume her. He’d hoped her marriage would provide her with some much-needed perspective, but her husband seemed to fuel that fire rather than help calm it.

Shaking off his melancholy, Rocky stood back and watched with pride as his girls mingled with the audience, showing their appreciation with handshakes and hugs. Many of the audience members knew the girls, had known them since they were kids, which made the sharing now even more special. He glanced back and saw Delilah looking on them with pride as well.

He turned to go back to his wife, but a tall, slender man reached her first. Who is that? he wondered.

“Hey, Mrs. Monroe,” the man said, causing Delilah to look up at him.

“Roy,” she said, getting up to give him a hug. “It’s so good to see you. I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

Roy? Rocky thought. That’s Roy Stiles? Well, that boy sure has lost a lot of weight. How long has it been since I last saw him?

Roy hugged Delilah back. “I missed Gospelfest the last couple of years because of American Star commitments, but I’m back now. I don’t plan to miss another one.”

“We understand, Roy,” Delilah said. “We’re all so proud of you. You’re an example to all the young people. Us old ones too,” she added with a twinkle in her eye.

“I can feel the love, Mrs. Monroe. Some people look at me and think I was an overnight success. I have to tell them that my overnight took fifteen years.” Delilah laughed. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Rocky agreed. He’d watched Roy’s career, and he’d wanted what Roy had for his girls: to be given the opportunity to sing before a television audience of millions. Like Roy, his girls sang a blend of gospel and pop that he called “gospel for the world,” and as with Roy, he hoped a television audience would embrace them and their sound. You couldn’t pay for that kind of exposure. Roy pulled a folded sheet of paper out of his shirt pocket. “Delilah’s Daughters is special, Mrs. Monroe, really special. They’ve only gotten better over the years.”

Delilah beamed. “That’s nice of you to say.”

Roy shook his head. “I’m not being nice. I’m being honest. They need the kind of exposure that I got on AS.

“If only there were an American Star for groups,” she said.

Rocky had been thinking the same thing.

Roy chuckled. “Well, there is, or there will be.” He handed her the paper he had pulled out of his pocket. Rocky moved over to stand behind Delilah so he could read it too. “It’s a spin-off of American Star that’s going to be filmed in Atlanta,” Roy said. “They take solo acts and groups. I think Delilah’s Daughters should try out.”

I do too, Rocky said, forgetting that nobody could hear him. According to the flyer, the winners of the Sing for America competition would get a recording contract worth around $300,000. Right then, he began praying Delilah’s Daughters would win.

“I can’t believe this,” Delilah said, still staring at the flyer. “This is perfect for the girls.” She looked up at Roy. “I don’t know if they’re ready, though. Since their father died, they haven’t had much of a rehearsal schedule. Getting ready for Gospelfest each year is a major effort.”

What are you saying, Delilah? Rocky shouted at his wife. The girls are more than ready! If they could pull themselves together for a Gospelfest performance a few short months after I died, they can certainly get ready for this contest.

“Believe me, Mrs. Monroe,” Roy said, “they’re ready. Of course, more rehearsal time will help, but to be honest, I don’t see how they can pass up an opportunity to try out. If they’re chosen to compete, it can be a life-changing experience.”

Not only will they compete, Rocky said, touching Delilah’s arm and willing her his confidence, but our girls are gonna win this thing.

“I’ll talk to the girls about it,” Delilah said, with a little bit more enthusiasm. “What could it hurt?”

Roy smiled again. “That’s exactly what I thought when I tried out for American Star, and look what happened.” He hugged her again. “I need to head off to the green stage for my performance. I’ll look for you and the girls in the audience.”

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Delilah said. She stared at the flyer after Roy left. “If only Rocky were here,” she murmured.

I am here, Rocky said, his frustration at being unheard growing. Though this was his third Gospelfest visitation, the boundaries between the living and the dead still grated on him. The girls have to try out. They’re going to win this thing. It’s their destiny. I feel it, Dee.

He watched his wife as a light chuckle escaped her lips. She felt the girls’ destiny too. He knew she did. When she quickly sobered, he knew she was thinking about him and his dream for Delilah’s Daughters to one day become a chart-topping gospel group. It was a dream that had begun forming early in their marriage, after they’d survived a major challenge to their love and recommitted themselves to each other and their family. It was a dream that later had been put on hold so the girls could complete their education. The plan had been for them to resume their careers after they finished college, but he’d died soon enough after Alisha’s graduation that the dream had been lost in their grief over his death.

“Maybe it’s time,” Delilah murmured to herself. “The girls have to do this for Rocky; I have to do this for Rocky.”

Rocky smiled, his heart full. He never knew what to expect during his yearly visits with his family, but this year was proving especially gratifying as he got to be a part of the moment when his daughters restarted the music careers he had always known were destined to be theirs. He pressed a kiss against his wife’s forehead, thankful for her continued belief in their daughters’ gifts. By the time he returned next year, Delilah’s Daughters would be well on their way to bringing their brand of music to households all over the world.

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You Get What You Pray For

Book Title  You Get What you Pray

Paperback Pages 288

ISBN-10: 1601626975 

ISBN-13: 978-1601626974

Publisher : Urban Books (January 27,2015)

Genre : Christian Fiction

About The Author:


Joylynn M. Ross now writing as BLESSEDselling Author E.N. Joy (Everybody Needs Joy)

BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy is the writer behind the five book series, “New Day Divas,” the three book series, “Still Divas,” the three book series, “Always Divas,” and the forthcoming three book series, “Forever Divas,” which have been coined “Soap Operas in Print.” She is an Essence Magazine Bestselling Author who wrote secular books under the names Joylynn M. Jossel and JOY.

After thirteen years of being a paralegal in the insurance industry, E. N. Joy finally divorced her career and married her mistress and her passion; writing. In 2000, she formed her own publishing company where she self-published her books until landing a book deal with a major publisher. Under her company she has published New York Times and Essence Magazine Bestselling authors in the “Sinner Series.” In 2004, E. N. Joy branched off into the business of literary consulting where she provides one-on-one consulting and literary services such as ghost writing, editing, professional read-throughs, write behinds, etc… Her clients consist of first time authors, Essence Magazine bestselling authors, New York Times bestselling authors and entertainers. This award winning author has been sharing her literary expertise on conference panels in her home town of Columbus, Ohio as well as cities across the country.

Not forsaking her love of poetry, E. N. Joy’s latest poetic project is an ebook of poetry titled Flower In My Hair. “But my spirit has moved in another direction,” E. N. Joy says. Needless to say, she no longer pens street lit (in which two of her titles, If I Ruled the World and Dollar Bill, made the Essence Magazine bestsellers list. Dollar Bill appeared in Newsweek and has been translated to Japanese). She no longer pens erotica or adult contemporary fiction either, in which her title written with New York Times Bestselling Author Brenda Jackson, An All Night Man, earned the Borders bestselling African American romance award.

You can find this author’s children’s book titled The Secret Olivia Told Me, written under the name N. Joy, in book stores now. The Secret Olivia Told Me received a Coretta Scott King Honor from the American Library Association. The book was also acquired by Scholastic Books and has sold over 100,000 copies. She also has a tween/young adult ebook titled Operation Get Rid of Mom’s New Boyfriend and a children’s fairytale ebook titled Sabella and the Castle Belonging to the Troll. Elementary and middle school children have fallen in love with reading and creative writing as a result of the readings and workshops E. N. Joy performs in schools nationwide.

E. N. Joy is the acquisition editor for Urban Christian, an imprint of Urban Books in which the titles are distributed by Kensington Publishing Corporation. In addition, she is the artistic developer for a young girl group named DJHK Gurls. She pens original songs, drama skits and monologues for the group that deal with messages that affect today’s youth, such as bullying.

You can visit BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy at www.enjoywrites.com or email her at enjoywrites@aol.com

enjoywrites.com | BLESSEDselling Author, E. N. Joy


E.N. Joy takes over 14 years of wisdom, knowledge, expertise, research, hard work and experience in the literary industry and assist aspiring authors or authors who just don’t know what to do next to reach their dreams of becoming published… more
About the Book
Lorain has been a prisoner of secrets almost all of her life. At the age of thirteen, she’d managed to keep her pregnancy a secret, discarding the infant she’d given birth to and leaving it for dead. She also never revealed the fact that the baby’s father was her middle school guidance counselor. Years later, Lorain’s mother had finally met the love of her life, and Lorain couldn’t find the courage to tell her mother that her new beau was the man who molested Lorain. To complicate matters, Lorain discovered that the baby she’d abandoned all those years ago had survived, and God had placed Lorain in the now adult child’s life. It seemed liked the legacy of secrets had been passed on, too, as Lorain helped her daughter conceal the true details behind her own pregnancy.

Lorain has managed to maneuver the secrets and lies like a strategic game of chess, and is now living the lavish fairytale life of a doctor’s wife. But even that is a lie. With the rug about to be pulled from underneath Lorain by the woman who raised her abandoned child, all Lorain prays for is that everything will end well. In this cycle of lies, secrets, shame, and guilt, will Lorain get what she prays for?

Excerpt From You Get What you Pray for :

“I wouldn’t change this million dollar lifestyle for two million,” Lorain said as she stood in the middle of her great room, admiring the soft yellow painted vault ceiling and custom designed crystal chandelier. Sitting on the sand colored couch with yellow accent pillows always made Lorain feel as though she was sitting on one of the beaches of St. Maarten. Although she, her husband and twin daughters had lived in their built from the ground up house for almost a year, every day that she woke up in her home was still like a dream come true. For the first couple of weeks she would wake up, run downstairs, go stand in the middle of the great room and not only admire it, but she would spin around in awe; kind of like Belle when Beast introduced her to the library in his castle.

She had been introduced to something all right; the good life. And just thinking about how good her life was at that very moment, she felt the urge rise up inside of her to give it a good ole spin. So there she went doing her fairytale, Gone with the Wind I’m so fabulous and so is life spin. As her spinning came to a slow, winding halt she asked herself, “How does a wretch like me go from the hood life to the good life?”

Dressed in a white, silky-satin, short sleeve, puffy shoulder with ruffles down the front blouse, a red pencil skirt, and crystal studded, strappy four inch heels, all by designers whose names she couldn’t pronounce without practicing several times out loud, Lorain felt like a queen. And no one could tell her she didn’t reside in a palace. The five bedroom, four and a half bath, finished basement with a grand wine cellar, stainless-steel gourmet kitchen, exquisite dining room, to die for great room, six thousand square feet home was everything she had prayed for…and then some. The lower level mini theatre that could seat a little over a half dozen and the modest indoor pool was the then some. The gray, black and white marble Jacuzzi in her master suite that could fit four adults was just heaven. The custom made walk-in closet was the size of her bedroom when she was a little girl. As a matter of fact, Lorain had subconsciously had it painted in the same teal green color of her childhood sleeping quarters.

But she had come a long way from those days. She was now living the life she’d dreamed about. Her heavenly father had gone above and beyond in fulfilling her heart’s desires. There wasn’t a thing left she could dare fix her lips to ask for. So now that Lorain had everything that she had ever prayed for, who needed God? Her answer would soon come.

Purchase Links
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The Fall of the Prodigal Blog Stop

Author is giving away two $10.00 Amazon Gift Cards.

 Two winners will be randomly chosen via


Enter contest below.

Book Title: The Fall of the Prodigal

Paperback: 288 pages

Publisher: Urban Books (January 27, 2015)

ISBN-10: 1601626983

ISBN-13: 978-1601626981

Genre: Christian Fiction

Michelle Lindo Rice 2

Michelle Lindo-Rice enjoys crafting women’s fiction with themes centered around the four “F” words:

Faith, Friendship, Family and Forgiveness. Her first published work, Sing A New Song, was a Black

Expressions featured selection. Originally from Jamaica West Indies, Michelle Lindo-Rice calls herself a

lifelong learner.

She has earned degrees from New York University, SUNY at Stony Brook, and Teachers College,

Columbia University. When she moved to Florida, she enrolled in Argosy University where she

completed her Education Specialist degree in Education Leadership. A pastor’s kid, Michelle upholds the

faith, preaching, teaching and ministering through praise and worship. Feel free to connect with her at


You can read her testimony, learn about her books, PLEASE join her mailing list, or read a sample

chapter at michellelindorice.com

 Michelle Lindo Rice
About The Book

A condemned man, his two brides, and one untimely death.

Michael Ward is at the top of his game and he doesn’t need anyone or anything. Money is his new best

friend–until he’s arrested for a heinous crime. As much as he hates to admit it, Michael needs his

brother, Keith Ward, the man who stole his wife and children. Will Michael open his heart to forgive his


Verona “Tiger” Stachs has been Michaels’ attorney for years. She’s in love with him, but is tired of being

treated as his guinea pig. A lapsed Christian, Verona finds herself being drawn closer to God. She

thought she was through with God, but soon discovers He’s nowhere through with her. Which

relationship will she choose?

Keith Ward’s a prominent minister and family man, yet he yearns to rekindle his relationship with his

brother. When Michael calls him explaining that he desperately needs his help, Keith jumps at the

chance to set things right with Michael. Will Keith be able to lead Michael into the light?

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Tamika Newhouse reflects on her humble beginnings #PassionateSpot

Check this out!!!

Tamika Newhouse's Passionate Spot

That was then, circa 2009

I remember that moment when I gassed up my PT cruiser and hit the road for 30 days in the pursuit to promote my latest book, Kisses Don’t Lie. I drove from Texas to New York City by myself. I had a trunk and a back seat full of books and I just knew that I was about to do it big. I was hungry. I was motivated and I didn’t care that I was spending my last dime to live out my dream. And I did spend my last dime. I ran out of money on the road that I literally stood on the corner in Harlem to sell books just so that I could pay the toll to get out of the city. And some how I made enough to drive into Maryland where i slept in a friends basement. Just to wake…

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