Janet had been there and done that when it came to love. After a broken heart love was no longer an option for her. No strings, meaningless sex, and random dates were now her top choices. Besides keeping men at a distance and away from her heart was safe right? You can t get hurt if you don't let anybody in.
But what happens when you suddenly meet someone who just gets you? The moment she met Denim she knew it was something different, something she couldn't control. And from day one she fought that four letter word, love.
Denim had loved and lost and vowed to never feel for anyone ever again and that had worked for years. A successful music producer but a womanizer by nature the day he met Janet his quest to be unattached was challenged. Janet and Denim both fight what was evident, that they both wanted and needed each other.
Vowing to just be in the moment and not commit to one another tension grows as their emotions can t be controlled. Random sex want do, the endless dates with unfamiliar faces is getting old, and everyone is compared to the one that matters, each other.
But when Janet fears confessing her deep feelings for Denim will push him away; things change. Denim although loves Janet is unwilling to commit and it is his the lack of effort to change on his end that ultimately changes them.
Words go unspoken as this romantic, sexy, dramatic novel unfolds leaving two souls lost within each other. And when a broken heart can't be mended it seems that their love will be lost forever without a real chance at happiness.
A love story not based on a fairy tale but solely on the fact that sometimes we run from the very thing that will make us happy.
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Excerpt from The Words I Didn't Say
I walked into the restaurant and asked the hosts for the party of a Denim Overton. She assured me that my party called and said they would be five minutes late and led me to my table. I knew that at meetings like this my bill was always covered by the client so I wasted no time ordering an appetizer and pulling out my laptop to work on my novel.
Thirty minutes and fifteen hundred words, and a plate full of bones later, I heard, “Janet Jamison?”
My eyes traveled over my laptop and trailed from the soles of the most expensive shoes I would never spend money on, up his leg, briefly stopping at his mid-section to examine the bulge but I made sure to not stare too long. His torso was broad, his arms were dark so he was a chocolate brother. Please let him be cute please let him be cute. I stared at his face and tilted my head to the side. Got damn this man is sexy.
Stuttering over my words and attempting to gain my composure I say, “Yes!”
He extended his hand and said, “Denim Overton. I do apologize for my tardiness. You can never be too sure with Atlanta’s traffic.”
I suddenly heard the sounds of “Freak Me”by Silk but I think it was only in my head. “Oh that’s fine. I had some time to write.”
He took a seat across from me and smiled. “You’re the writer that everyone praises up in New York. They say you’re the best.”
I blushed. “They speak truth. I’ve already been looking into your client’s life. I think this project is going to be a quick and easy one. He is pretty much an open book.”
“Yeah he is someone I can’t control and he is pretty open.” He said, referring to his client.
“I thought he was going to join us too?”
After ordering a drink Denim turned his attention back to me and said, “No, he had a show in Tampa so he left this morning. I didn’t want to cancel because we have pushed this back long enough. Tell me what you have in mind.”
I begin to lay out the idea for the memoir I was going to write for his artist. I had written for indie and mainstream artists and actors a dozen times and I was good at what I did. So good that my best friend, Claire, and I decided to open our own offices called From the Pen of Claire and Janet. We were both published authors, but we were currently working as ghostwriters for a lot of celebrities throughout the Atlanta area. For this project with Denim’s artist I would pocket over $75,000. So was I complaining truly about being behind on my own project? No. But then again I wrote for the love of it not just for the dollar sign.
“You are good,” Denim said, just above a slight laugh. He leaned back in his seat as our server sat a plate of salmon and rice in front of him.
“I try to do my best,” I said, as my plate of turkey and dressing was placed before me. “Have you read any of my works? Tell me what you know about me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Well I actually have been in Houston a lot working on an album with an artist so I haven’t been out of the cave in about two months. I hadn’t had the chance to do much of anything else.”
“Oh so what do you do when you’re in the studio?”
“I create beats. The sound of the music.”
“Oh that’s right?” I smiled and nodded my head while covering my mouth that was full of food. “You’re DJ Denim O!”
He had a look of shock on his face. I didn’t know why so I asked, “Thought I wouldn’t know about you?”
“Depends on what you heard.”
He took a bite of his food keeping his eyes glued to mine. I had to rearrange myself in my seat. Denim was more than handsome. He was so heavy on my eyesight that I took deeper breaths to maintain the anxiety building in between my legs.
“Well, I heard some things from back in the day. You’ve been in the game for a while now, huh?”
“Ten years,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “Started in small clubs back in Fort Worth, Texas.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I’m from there you know.”
He gave me the side eye and smiled. I nearly sunk in my seat. I could feel juices from the crevices of my lips seep through and threaten to wet my panties. I squeezed my pelvis really tight hoping my efforts to tighten my walls would create a stopper to the flow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You’re from Funkytown?”
“Yes. I’ve been here in Atlanta for about five years now. Came here for my career.”
“Small freaking world,” he laughed.
“Small freaking world,” I added.
There was an obvious pause in our exchange. I was too busy focusing on stopping the flow of my juices, but what the hell he was doing, I didn’t know. I was thinking to myself this man was obviously irresistible and he knew it. He sat there looking as if he possessed the most sought after tool in the world. Hmmmm his tool. I wonder.
I shook the thoughts out of my head and asked, “So you stay here?”
“I am in and out of almost every major city at some point. Nowhere is home really but Texas.”
He stared at me. His stare was like dare. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He had these seemingly innocent eyes that held a hint of grey.
“I like it here. It’s different from Texas,” I said.
“Very different. It’s a city of opportunities you know… And meetings such as this.”
I smiled and bowed my head as if I was a shy school aged girl when his cell phone buzzed. He glanced at the caller ID with a look of anxiousness. After apologizing for having to take the call, he picked up as I attempted to tune out his conversation. Although being nosey and writing about other people’s lives was how I made a living, for once I wasn’t trying to be.
Denim hung up and said, “I have to get to my next meeting but Janet I will definitely be in touch. I will let my client know what we came up with. He’s really excited about this opportunity.”
I stood up and shook Denim’s hand. When my hand landed in his I felt a rush of something. It was weird. I couldn’t explain why my palms became moist, my breathing became heavy, my heart began to race, and my mind was boggled. Denim tilted his head to the right and frowned. He feels it too.
I quickly let go of his hand and allowed it to drop to my side. “It was nice meeting you Denim.”
His confused look didn’t change as he stated, “It was a pleasure Ms. Jamison.” He slowly took a few steps backwards until he turned on his heels and walked out of the restaurant. I plopped down into my seat and blew out hot air. What the hell just happened? I think I stared at my computer screen for ten minutes before I managed to collect my items and head out of the restaurant pushing back what was obvious; I wanted that man in the worst way.
Tamika Newhouse is a self-published bestselling author who founded Delphine Publications, at the age of 21; Tamika appeared on various bestseller lists and won Self Published Author of the Year at the 2009 African American Literary Awards only 9 months after her debut novel. In 2010 she was inducted into Who’s who in Black San Antonio and she landed a major publishing deal without an agent and still continues to write independent projects. In 2011 her company Delphine Publications won an African American Literary Award for Best Anthology as well as Tamika won for the second time Self Published Author of the Year. She was also nominated by the National Women in Business Association for the 2011 Entrepreneurial Spirit Award. In 2013 she was honored with the Author of Distinction E. Lynn Harris Award. Her latest award for the 2013 African American Literary Award for self published author of the year.
Along with Delphine Publications, Tamika is the founder and President of African Americans on the Move Book Club (AAMBC) – an online book club and radio show catering to avid readers across the nation. She is also CEO of Obsessive Soul Media. With future projects in the works from short films, stage plays and much more, Tamika is a young woman on a mission. She has been featured in Uptown Magazine, Essence, Hello Beautiful, Juicy Magazine, and in Vibe Vixen Magazine.
Tamika presently tours the country speaking about overcoming her teen pregnancy to fulfill her dream, as well as teaching aspiring writers the publishing ropes. A former radio host, she hosted her own internet radio show (AAMBC) for over three years and continues to expand her brand. She is currently living in Atlanta with her son and daughter and is currently working on her next novel.
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