HOSTED BY “OUR LADY OF VICTORY REMEMBERED”
LOCATED IN SOUTHEAST, MI SURROUNDED BY THE FIVE GREAT LAKES!!
AND HERE ARE THE WINNERS!
1st place – Lisa Kirazian
(1) 10.00 AMAZON GIFT CARD!!
2nd place – Yvette M. Calleiro
1 Autographed Paperback copy of OUR LADY OF VICTORY, THE SAGA OF AN AFRICAN-AMERICAN CATHOLIC COMMUNITY
3rd place – Beem Weeks
1 Autographed paperback copy of CRAZY! HOT! AND LIVING ON THE EDGE!!
4th place – Lizzie Chantree
1 Ebook Copy of RAVE SOUP FOR THE WRITERS SOUL 2014
HERE ARE MY SELECTIONS: A little something about me, and a blurb to acquaint you to what the titles are about.
I’ve been an Indie Author since 2007 when I came out with my very first book, Our Lady of Victory, The Saga of an African-American Catholic Community. I wrote it because I felt that our history was about to be lost forever and I had a strong urge, that I couldn’t shake, to make sure it didn’t happen. I re-published again under a different publisher and had a Facebook Re-Launch Party to introduce it through 4WillsPublishing. It has been an amazing journey.
Upon learning what these amazing pioneers did was a source of pride for me. We didn’t see much in our lives to be proud of and so any little found nugget was a delight. When I met Nonnie Jules on Twitter, it was the beginning of a wonderful relationship. She had a vision and my book was about to get some long overdue recognition. Plus she was a part of an elite few to give me an honest review. Before RRBC, people who did a review mostly wrote like they had to tell a story and do a lot of embellishment. You really have to know how to write a genuine review. And so I appreciated Nonnie so much for being so real. It started a conversation that I had been dying to have. Like most of us authors I was on my own, not realizing that in helping others I would help myself. Such a novel concept, but it works. I’m glad I found that out.
When we came of school age, my brother, sister, and I started attending George Washington Carver Elementary School. While living in Royal Oak Township we were not exposed to door to door evangelization. Here is how my mother found out about the church. For some time she had noticed a young boy walking, very early in the morning, past our two-story housing project unit at 10729 Hinsdale Court. He wore blue pants, a white shirt and a tie. She was so impressed with his appearance that she just had to find out where he was going. She stopped him one morning and asked. He told her that he was attending the new school affiliated with Our Lady of Victory Church. My parents immediately sought out this church and started taking instructions, because they wanted us enrolled in the school. Mother was doing just what the other parents were doing—looking for a good education for her children. The boy’s name was Frank Cryer, and we became classmates. Walking to school dressed in a uniform was a kind of evangelization, because it sure made an impression on our mother. As soon as the school doors opened, we were right there. Around this time my whole family started attending and preparing to become baptized Catholics…
My second book was created out of a need to share personal traumas experienced in a relationship gone bad; and life examples of the health problems that ensued from it. This book was never supposed to see the “light of day” but stranger things have happened.
I recall one night, while preparing my baby son for bed, I sat down and laid him on my chest to rock him to sleep. Suddenly, I started to feel this tightness in my chest. It felt like I was being squeezed and it got worse and worse until I was writhing in agony and pain. I had difficulty breathing. I tried and tried but I just couldn’t get enough air in my lungs. My mother called for help, but when the police arrived and offered to take me down to Detroit Receiving Hospital, she exclaimed: “Over my dead body! You are not taking my daughter downtown!” At that time, Receiving Hospital had a reputation for admitting a lot of violent criminals and crime victims and she didn’t want me in that environment. So the officers left. Fortunately, they returned with the decision to take me somewhere closer to my mother’s home. We rode to Mt. Carmel Mercy Hospital, right in our neighborhood. The doctors went through the normal line of questioning, including personal inquiries about my marital status. When I told them I was separated from my husband, they all looked at me with the same sympathetic but knowing expression on their faces…
Imagine experiencing emotions that have you questioning your sanity. Your body gets overheated at the least bit of excitement and you scramble to find a fan or some air. Or you find yourself in the throes of a panic attack and can’t understand how to shut it off, so you are filled with anxiety wondering when the next one is coming. What if every time you take a drug you experience side-affects that you are warned about on the label?
The title was conceived in my mind after I thought over all the situations I had found myself in, getting out of them, and the affect all of this had on my overall physical and mental well-being.
Crazy! Hot! And Living On the Edge!! Is the True Story of My Upside Down Life!
Rave Reviews Book Club put together this powerful anthology of the member’s works. I entered in two categories and WON!! I was so thrilled to have my work validated this way. Here are the winning entries…
Childhood Memories: A Walk Down Memory Lane
Love & Relationships: Go After What You Want
The RAVE SOUP FOR THE WRITER’S SOUL Anthology is a compilation of motivational, inspirational and humorous stories from some of the most talented writers of the RAVE REVIEWS BOOK CLUB. These stories and poems are meant to inspire you and lift you up at the exact moment you need it. We all know how soup warms our bodies, and there are so many different brands on the market to choose from, but for a writer, only RAVE SOUP FOR THE WRITER’S SOUL will do! So pick up your literary spoon and ENJOY!
Excerpt from A Walk Down Memory Lane
I will never forget being introduced to my own father. I didn’t know him because he was gone more than he was there. So we didn’t get the chance to bond with him. He told us to call him daddy. I looked at mother and she nodded her head in approval. I couldn’t believe she did that nor did I believe that he was my father. But I had to do what I was told. So I called him daddy – reluctantly. I never forgot that moment because it was traumatic. He had no one to blame but himself for this predicament. He actually seemed a bit annoyed that we didn’t draw closer to him. He was a stranger! How do you forget something like that?
Thank you so much for stopping by and joining the Party. Do share your comments and do stop by again. Please share this post on your way out.
I’ll see you at the next stop of the #RRBC BOOK and BLOG BLOCK PARTY!
Shirley Harris-Slaughter, Author