For this week's "Writer Wednesday" I decided to feature one novel in particular. Take time to read the excerpt and enjoy. The purpose of these Wednesday features is to give extra exposure to authors who I truly believe in. Remember to show love and support to the independent authors that I showcase. I truly appreciate it.
SYNOPSIS
An
evening of doing laundry turns into pleasure and chaos for middle school
teacher, Greta Stevenson and principal, Austin Johnson. When Austin makes a
comment about her thong, Greta blushes in embarrassment, but secretly, she’s
turned on. The more she thinks about Austin, the hotter she gets. Betrayed by
her hormones, she finds herself in an uncompromising position on top of a
washing machine. While in the throes of passion, the two have no idea their act
has been been caught on tape.
The videotape falls into the sinister hands of Larry Newsome, another teacher. Since he has a sick obsession for Greta, he tries to use the footage as a way to get her into his bed. He also attempts to blackmail Austin who he considers a weak “pretty boy.”
Austin and Greta devise a plan to get the infamous videotape back. When Larry is confronted by Austin and a dangerous woman from his past, will the situation spin out of control?
The videotape falls into the sinister hands of Larry Newsome, another teacher. Since he has a sick obsession for Greta, he tries to use the footage as a way to get her into his bed. He also attempts to blackmail Austin who he considers a weak “pretty boy.”
Austin and Greta devise a plan to get the infamous videotape back. When Larry is confronted by Austin and a dangerous woman from his past, will the situation spin out of control?
EXCERPT
Greta arrived
at the school at little after seven o’clock. That would give them plenty of
time to discuss whatever Mr. Johnson had to talk about. The children weren’t
supposed to arrive on the school’s grounds until 8:15 AM, but she saw a few
already sitting out front.
“Good morning,” she greeted. She always made
it a point to speak to every child she encountered. You never knew just how
much a smile or a kind word could make a child’s day.
“Hey, Mrs. Stevenson.” She recognized Jamisha, the student that dressed
inappropriately and came out the mouth wrong with her the day before. An older
woman with a two-toned hairdo stood next to her, frowning deeply.
Lord, please don’t let my morning start off
with a ghetto-style brawl, she prayed silently. She
didn’t want to come up out her high heels and use one. But, she would if she
had to. She surveyed the other semi-large woman. She could probably take her
down. Most ghetto chicks were all talk and no action anyway.
“Hi, Jamisha. How are you, this morning?”
Jamisha rolled her eyes. “And how are you?” she greeted the woman.
“I’m
jus’ fine. I’m Ms. Bethune. Jamisha’s mama. Now, Misha tells me dat you sent
her out ya class ‘cause of what she was wearin’ yesterday. I wanna know what
she had on.”
“I already told you, Mama,” Jamisha whined.
“Shut ya mouth girl. I am talkin’ to ya
teacher,” Ms. Bethune hissed.
“Well, she was wearing a half shirt. The
school’s policy informs that tank tops or half shirts aren’t allowed. Had she
put on a jacket, as I suggested, I wouldn’t have sent her out of the classroom.
It’s just that, wearing something so revealing can be distracting to the other
students,” she explained to the obviously irate woman who glared at her.
The woman’s neck turned so fast Gerta
thought she might have caused whiplash. “A fuckin’ half shirt?” she yelled at
her daughter. “What da fuck you come up in school wearin’ some shit like dat
fuh?” The mama chastised.
“Mama, I’ll wear whatever I wanna wear.”
“See, you lucky dis teacher standin’ here.
‘Cause if she wasn’t, I’d beat ya ass down where you stand. I ain’t raisin’ no
damn tramp. You supposed to wear the clothes that I buy fuh ya ass. I didn’t
buy no fuckin’ half shirts.”
“I didn’t say you did.” Jamisha sucked air
through her teeth and rolled her eyes again.
“Gurl.” Ms. Bethune drew back her hand and
that’s when Greta felt it was best to intervene.
“Ms. Bethune, don’t.” She quickly stepped
between mother and daughter. “Obviously there’s a communication break down
between yourself and your daughter. However, getting upset in public is never a
good idea. Perhaps it’s best that you discuss this private matter at home,” she
suggested.
“Ain’t nothin’ to discuss. She gonna do what
da fuck I say do. She gonna go to school to learn and not to pick up nasty ass
boys. All dey want is what’s between ya legs anyways.” She pushed her
daughter’s forehand with her index finger.
“Mama.”
“Don’t mama me. Shit, how da hell you think
I got five kids now? Men tell one lie afta a fuckin’ nother one to get ya
stuff. You don’t wanna have no kid. Raisin’ kids ain’t no damn joke. I’m tryin’
to keep you from goin’ thru the shit I go through erry day.”
“You don’t go through nothin’. I’m the one
got to babysit all the time,” Jamisha grumbled. “Besides, I ain’t even doin’
nothin’,” she griped.
“And you won’t if I can help it. You got me
comin’ up here all upset, ‘bout to go off on dis lady and all she tryin’ to do
is tell you right from wrong.” She turned an apologetic look toward Greta. “My
bad ma’am. Dis gurl is jus’ fast. Thank God the res’ of my kids is boys.”
Greta smiled slightly. She couldn’t fathom
having five kids. Hell, she didn’t think she’d ever have that many unless she
pushed out quintuplets.
“Ms. Bethune,
I understand your concern. However, Jamisha is one of my most promising
students.” Greta could see the girl’s eyes light up and the angry look left her
face. “Do you know that she scored the highest in the whole classroom on the
FCAT test in reading?”
“Nah, I
didn’t know dat. Is dat so?” Her face seemed to lose some of its irritation.
“Yes, it
certainly is. Jamisha is also an incredible writer. She’s extremely talented.”
“I knew she
liked to write and thangs. She always readin’ too. I jus’ don’t like huh choice
of books. Zane. Dat woman is too graphic. No teenager ain’t got no business
readin’ dat. Now, myself, I like readin’ some Eric Jerome Dickey.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Sho nuff. I buy erry one of his books.
He sho nuff can write for a man, and he is fine too.” Her eyes narrowed as
though she saw something she wanted really badly. “But not half as fine as dat
nigga comin’ dis way.” She put her hands on her hip and just gawked. Girlfriend
didn’t have any shame in her game.
Greta turned
in the direction of Ms. Bethune’s gaze. Principal Johnson. For a second her
heart rate increased. She quickly composed herself.
“Good morning
Principal Johnson,” she said calmly as he approached.
“Good
morning, ladies. How are you this fine morning?” The man was pure charismatic.
It was plain to see that Ms. Bethune was smitten.
“You’re the
principal?” Her eyes said, “Damn.”
“Yes, I am.
And you are?”
“I’m Brenda
Bethune, Jamisha’s mother.” The woman extended a hand with long acrylic nails.
Of all designs, she had President Obama and his wife on the thumbs. Now, if
that didn’t take the cake, Greta didn’t know what did.
Damn, look at
how fast that bitch switched from ghetto queen to sophisticated lady, Greta thought dryly.
“I’m pleased
to meet you.” Austin threw her a dazzling smile that enhanced his dimples.
“The pleasure
is all mine,” Ms. Bethune drooled. “I was just speaking with Miss – er, I
didn’t get your name.”
“Stevenson.
Mrs. Stevenson,” she answered with a tight smile.
“I was just
speaking with Mrs. Stevenson regarding Jamisha’s behavior yesterday. She was
out of line and it definitely will not happen again. You have my word on that.”
“I’m happy to
hear that Ms. Bethune. It takes a village.” He threw out the cliché with
another dazzling smile.
“Well, I have
to get to work. If there are any further problems, don’t hesitate to call me.”
She stared directly at Mr. Johnson when she said the last part.
“You have a
good day ma’am.” He was just eating up the attention while Greta silently
burned with annoyance.
“You too,”
she purred. “Oh, and you too,” she added for Greta’s sake.
Bitch please. “You do the same.” Greta wanted to roll her eyes, but she just smiled
sweetly.
“Mrs.
Stevenson, I’ll be ready to meet with you in a minute. If you want, you can
wait for me in my office. I have to make my rounds,” Austin said.
He showed no
indication that he had anything but business on his mind. It was as though
yesterday evening had never occurred. For some reason, Greta felt slightly
disappointed.
“I’ll put on
the coffee,” she said, walking off briskly.
Spin Cycle can be purchased from the following
websites:
Barnes
& Noble: http://www.amazon.com/Spin-Cycle-ebook/dp/B003E7F3Z8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1348688775&sr=1-1&keywords=Spin+cycle
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| Author Teresa D. Patterson |
