I am a Christian, a retired teacher, a mother and a grandmother. I love to read and I love the Lord Jesus Christ! Unless otherwise specified ,all visual illustrations are from the YOU VERSION APP of the Bible.
Author: vicklea
I love to read! I’m a retired teacher with a spouse of 45 years, three amazing children and nine wonderful grandchildren. I am blessed!
My husband is an avid gardener. His passion is for his vegetables, but a few years ago, he planted a beautiful flower garden right outside the window where I sit. It started with a rose bush and a few irises. It has since grown to multiple rose bushes, lots of irises, azalea bushes and seasonal flowers that he hangs for my enjoyment. Recently, he added a hummingbird plant to attract the little creatures that I enjoy watching. My husband takes joy in my pleasure of looking out to see the garden. My mobility is limited and my allergies keep me inside, but his love helps me to enjoy God’s beautiful creation.
My husband is the caretaker of the flowers, but we both know that God is the one who helps them grow and flourish. So when things happen that are unexpected, the challenges in life that throw curveballs my way, I only have to sit in my chair and look out the window to be reminded of how much God cares. My faith has grown in this season of testing (of the medical variety, mostly), and I have learned to lean hard into God, knowing that He loves me even more than my beloved spouse does. I can see the evidence of Harry’s love and God’s each time I glance out the window…it makes me stronger to face whatever the day brings. Harry lovingly transports me to all of my appointments and God stays with me throughout all of the procedures. They have a pretty good partnership going and I’m blessed to be the recipient of all of that love. In fact, like the flowers, I blossom under the mighty hand of God, the One that shows me through the kindness of my husband how much He (and he) cherish me. My faith grows and my thankful heart overflows with gratitude.
I sincerely hope that you see flowers in your life today and remember that God put them there for you to enjoy and to remind you that He is faithful. The answers are coming…just wait for the blossoms to unfold!
Prayer, as most of us know, is simply having a conversation with God. But what does it mean to be “devoted to prayer”? If you look up the word “devoted” in a dictionary, it means loyalty, strong affection or dedication. Prayer should be something that we do daily, all day long and we should miss it if we neglect to do it. Some synonyms of “dedicated” are constant and steadfast. Prayer isn’t something that we practice occasionally; it is a habit that we need to get into so that we are establishing a close relationship with our Heavenly Father. Those of you who are married know that your relationship with. your spouse would not last very long if you never communicated or even if you only talked to each other occasionally. The foundation of a strong relationship is communication and prayer is communicating with God and then giving Him time to communicate with you.
When we pray, our minds should be alert, watching for the enemy’s attack. For me, that usually comes in the form of distracting me away from prayer to something else. We also have to be discerning as we pray, alert and watchful to what God is doing. We should not assume that God will answer our prayers in our way and on our timetable. We need to watch for Him to act on our behalf and be ready to adapt to the way and time in which He is answering our call.
Finally, we are to be thankful, recognizing that there is nothing we are, nothing we have, nothing that has any meaning to us that did not come from God. Our prayers should begin with adoration for who God is and end with thankfulness for all that He has done and is doing. Again, relate this to your human relationships. If you are never thankful to the person with whom you spend the most time, are they likely to want to continue to spend time with you? Everyone wants to be appreciated, not just for what they do for us but for who they are in our lives and how much they mean to us. God wants to be appreciated because He wants to establish a close relationship with us, for us to know Him intimately just as He knows us.
Today is the National Day of Prayer. As you pray today, may you remember to be devoted, alert and thankful.
The answers to prayers come, in God’s time, but remember that He is constantly guiding and restoring you. So, be thankful for His presence in your life.
I have found that as I am aging, I am less alert, especially as the day wanes. I don’t sleep well at night so I try to nap daily for about an hour, but then by about 7-8 at night, I am ready for bed again. That’s not to say that resting is not a good thing. But I need to make sure that when I am awake, I need to be fully alert to attacks from the enemy. These attacks come in the form of doubt, my temper being aroused and irritability towards anyone who is nearby.
The attacks that you suffer may not be the same as mine, but they will come nevertheless because that is what our enemy does. He attacks when we seem to be vulnerable. That’s why we put on the full armor and keep it on! When we are alert and clearheaded, we can recognize the attacks for what they are and stand firm in our faith, being the person God wants us to be to represent Him to others. Sleep is necessary, of course, but not when you are supposed to be on guard duty!
By Wilferd A. Peterson (August 21, 1900 – June 2, 1995)
Slow me down, Lord! Ease the pounding of my heart By the quieting of my mind. Steady my harried pace With a vision of the eternal reach of time.
Give me, Amidst the confusions of my day, The calmness of the everlasting hills. Break the tensions of my nerves With the soothing music Of the singing streams That live in my memory.
Help me to know The magical power of sleep, Teach me the art Of taking minute vacations Of slowing down To look at a flower; To chat with an old friend Or make a new one; To pat a stray dog; To watch a spider build a web; To smile at a child; Or to read a few lines from a good book.
Remind me each day That the race is not always to the swift; That there is more to life Than increasing its speed.
Let me look upward Into the branches of the towering oak And know that it grew great and strong Because it grew slowly and well.
Slow me down, Lord, And inspire me to send my roots deep Into the soil of life’s enduring values That I may grow toward the stars Of my greater destiny.
I have a small plaque of this poem that my husband and children gave me about three decades ago. It hangs in my bathroom next to the sink, a place where I can see it each day if I choose to take the time to look at it. Lately, I have been seeing it a lot, first out of the corner of my eye, then taking it down and reading it carefully and finally, taking the time to read and think about what it is saying to me. This life that we live on earth goes fast. We are only here for a season and then we are gone, leaving footprints behind on the hearts of others. At least, that is our hope. I want to leave a footprint that says that I loved well and that I was well loved. I want to leave memories of activities together and laughter that we shared. I want to enjoy the moments, days, years that I have left on this earth making a difference in the lives of those whom I know best and love best. I can only do that if I slow down and take time to just be.
The world says to rush around and work hard each hour of each day so that you can make more money to buy more things. But Wisdom says to listen, to understand how quickly life passes and how important it is to take the time to be with God, to be with those you love. That is why we need to slow down, so that we can appreciate what we have and be grateful to the Father who gives us all things.
This is a poignant and heart-tugging story of a mother and a daughter and the other people who touch their lives at a vulnerable time. Dani Peterson is losing her vision. Her husband died four months before the story begins and Dani is struggling to find her footing with their pre-teen daughter Bella. Bella was very close to Matthew and is having a hard time with her grief. When Dani decides to leave her beautiful home on the Outer Banks to move inland to a farmhouse in Virginia, Bella is less than thrilled and her anxiety comes out in mini-rebellions against her mom. Dani decides to send Bella to a grief camp and that camp and dealing with grief is a central focus of the story. Bella makes a new friend, Reggie, at the camp and gradually learns to do the activities without too much difficulty. Both Dani and Bella are dealing with terrible losses—Dani, her vision, and Bella, her beloved father. Both of them have to come to terms with their love for each other as well as letting new people into their circle. The mother-daughter relationship is in the center of the well-woven and intricate plot, but there are so many developing relationships as Dani establishes a new home and a new business in a new place. There are also the farewells that have to take place, the letting go that is never easy and the author portrays well the grief that lingers and overtakes you when you least expect it. The plot moves at a good pace for the content, neither too fast nor too slow, but ebbing like the tide that rolls in and out. The characters are well-developed and likable, dynamically portrayed as they grow from bitterness and anger towards acceptance and moving on. I enjoyed every part of reading this book and was sad when the story ended, but I’m delighted to report that it is one of my top books for the year, with all of the emotion that can be packed into the pages of a really good book. Disclaimer Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the author via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guidelines Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
This verse is short but filled with wisdom and a call to praise God. We are praising Him not for what He has done for us but for Who He is. I hope that you will join me today, pause and just reflect on Who God is…His names and His greatness.
These last few months, I have felt as though I knew what it was like to be the desperate woman who reached out to touch Jesus for her healing. I have been to specialist after specialist and had more medical tests than I knew existed, but the answer to my fainting and dizziness has been elusive. Then on Thursday, I saw a Balance Specialist. If you are blinking and looking again to see if you read that right, I can assure you that there is such a thing although it’s a totally new concept to me, too. My cardiologist had done innumerable tests and suggested I see my ENT to check for an inner ear problem. My regular ENT referred me to a Balance Specialist, a physician’s assistant who is actually a specialized physical therapist. I must admit that I went to the office with a little trepidation, wondering what in the world the new test would be like. This likable thirty-ish young man spent about half an hour with me. First he used some goggle like instrument that made me feel as though I were playing a video game in total darkness. He said that was checking my inner ear and there was no problem there. Then he had me lie down on a table, took my blood pressure, sat me up suddenly and took it again. Voila! An answer! It seems that the med that I am taking for my high blood pressure is a Beta blocker that keeps my heart from speeding up as it needs to do when I change positions. As a result, I get dizzy and if it doesn’t correct quickly enough, I faint. So, I was given instructions to talk to my cardiologist about changing or modifying my medicine. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? But apparently it wasn’t since I have been to five different specialists since February and not one of them picked up on this problem. Anyway, I still have a few more tests to undergo to satisfy my neurologist but I am delighted to have an answer that seems to be something that can be easily addressed. What amazes me is that God knew all along what has been happening and has kept me right in the palm of His hand. I haven’t been frustrated, angry or discouraged as I am accustomed to getting when faced when plans that had to change. God has comforted me and encouraged me that everything will be okay if I am patient.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my “word” for the year is TRUST. I set out at the beginning of the year with the goal in mind that I will learn to lean into the Lord, trusting Him no matter what. God took me at my word and is helping me to fulfill that promise.
I would like to think that the worst is behind me, but even if that is not proven to be true, I know that I can completely trust God’s love for me. My health may not be what I want it to be, but my soul is thriving with God.
This is a quotation from a devotional that I read this week. Hudson Taylor had a lot of challenges in his life, yet he could still write these words and mean them with his whole heart. I plan to copy this and put it on a card on my bathroom mirror, just to remind myself that I am still moving forward and God is still with me, fulfilling His promises to me.
What has God done for you lately? What is your testimony of His greatness in your life? Small things, big things, all things. Give God all the glory!
Spring has arrived in all of its colorful glory and I am so thankful to see the beauty all around me. God has provided awesome displays of His handiwork everywhere we look. We just have to take time to appreciate it.
It’s the season of hummingbirds, flowers, blooming trees and blossoming roses. It’s the season when God makes all things new. Although sometimes the winter seems long and never-ending, we have to remember that spring is coming. Even as the snow covers the ground, the plants that will come forth in the spring are already getting prepared to come out and up and astonish us with their beauty. It’s all part of God’s plan…a stage of dormancy and then an eruption of beauty. I think that says something about God’s plan for us, too.
Most who know me well are amazed that I have not been “falling apart” lately as I go through multiple medical tests weekly, all without really coming to an answer for my medical problems. However, those who know me well also know that I have put my trust in God and my eyes remain fixed on Him. He knows the root of the problem and He has the answer. If He reveals it to a doctor and there is a treatment for it, that’s good. If not, that is okay, too, because He is in control.
That is not to say that I have been enjoying being poked, prodded, stuck and next week, I get electricity coursing through me as the doctors study my brain. No, no enjoyment here, but rather peace in the process. My mind is focused on the Lord, trusting Him to bring this all to an end in His time. I have had to postpone visits with grandchildren and other family, an extended trip with my husband to celebrate our fiftieth anniversary and other plans that I had looked forward to with great anticipation. That is all of little importance to me these days. I know that God is holding me in the palm of His hand and He knows what needs to happen for me to feel whole again. So, I wait, I trust and I keep my eyes on Him. I don’t want to be like Peter and lose my focus so that I start to sink into the deep waters; instead, I am spending more time in God’s Word, talking to Him continually and asking Him to show me what to do next. Trust is an easy thing when there are no tests or trials, but the more trials that come along, the harder it is to trust. I am determined to be steadfast in my pursuit of the Lord, regardless of outward circumstances. I hope that is where you find yourself, too…peacefully waiting for God to act and trusting that in His time, He will.
A heart-pounding, curvy romance about an indie bookstore owner who finds herself in a love triangle when she meets the author she’s had a crush on for years…and his best friend.
Zora has committed every inch of her life to establishing her thriving DC bookstore, making it into a pillar of the community, and she just hasn’t had time for romance. But when a mystery author she’s been crushing on for years agrees to have an event at her store, she starts to rethink her priorities. Lawrence is every bit as charming as she imagined, even if his understanding of his own books seems just a bit shallow. When he asks her out after his reading, she’s almost elated enough to forget about the grumpy guy who sat next to her making snide comments all evening. Apparently the grouch is Lawrence’s best friend, Reid, but she can’t imagine what kind of friendship that must be. They couldn’t be more different.
But as she starts seeing Lawrence, and spending more and more time with Reid, Zora finds first impressions can be deceiving. Reid is smart and thoughtful—he’s also interested. After years of avoiding dating, she suddenly has two handsome men competing for her affection. But even as she struggles to choose between them, she can’t shake the feeling that they’re both hiding something—a mystery she’s determined to solve before she can find her HEA.
My Review:
A good romance with some steam and a lot of innuendo going on, but also a little mystery, too. Zora is totally dedicated to running a thriving bookstore in her neighborhood in D.C. and invites a local author to speak. That’s when the book gets more interesting as two men begin to vie for her affections and Zora has to decide who is being real and who is playing a part. The romance was part of the book was okay if not totally engaging or realistic. I liked getting to know the characters, but I must say that Granny harping on getting grand babies got annoying after about the tenth time of her using the same lines. I liked the support and encouragement that Zora’s friends gave her and thought that added the friendship dimension to the story. Lawrence, the author, seemed to be arrogant at times so he was not totally likable or trustworthy. His friend Reid also seemed to be secretive about something but he was more likable although he was portrayed as grumpy. When Zora is wooed by both men, she has to determine who is most likely to be a good mate, demonstrating fidelity and honesty, and there’s a lot of humor built into her quest to determine who is portraying themselves and who is putting on an act. I thought it was obvious after a few clues what was going on, so that is not what kept me reading. I wanted to see how Zora discovered the truth and how she handled the whole dilemma that she had gotten herself into. Knowing this was a debut novel, I didn’t expect to have a lot of fun reading it, but I did, especially the parts in which Zora works at investigating and investing in a relationship. The dialogue was sharp and the overall story was satisfying and clever. Disclosure of Material Connection: I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley. I was not required to write a positive review. All opinions expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255, “Guidelines Concerning the Use of Testimonials and Endorsements in Advertising.”
Giving a debut author the benefit of the doubt, I rounded my rating up from a 3.5. The book is definitely a fun read but it is not for everyone and I would rate it a PG-15 for content.
About the Author:
Law grad Taj McCoy is committed to championing plus-sized Black love stories and characters with a strong sense of sisterhood and familial bonds. Born in Oakland, Taj started writing as a child and celebrated her first publications in grade school. When she’s not writing, Taj boosts other marginalized writers, practices yoga, co-hosts the Fat Like Me and Better Than Brunch podcasts, shares recipes, and cooks supper club meals for friends.
“Well, is he attractive? You know I don’t want no ugly great-grandbabies.”
“Granny!” Zora laughed, pulling books from the stocking cart to arrange on the shelving display for the storefront window. The sun poked through the cloudy morning, threatening to scorch another early September day. Opus Northeast had been open for less than fifteen minutes, and its owner was already rolling her eyes. Silly her for making the mistake of mentioning the man who hit on her as she walked from her parked car into the store. “There’s no such thing as an ugly baby.”
Granny Marion shook a ruby-red fingernail at her granddaughter. “Now, I know I taught you better than that. Ain’t no reason to lie, baby. You know good and well that the li’l girl two doors down from you has one, bless his heart.”
Zora stifled a snort as she stacked middle-grade fantasy books next to some young-adult ones. Stories of witches, magic, and other worlds rich in cultural traditions and majesty. Running her fingers over the foiled titles of their hardcover jackets, she pictured her younger self staring into the window in awe, ready to devour each word in the safety of her cozy bedroom fort. Her parents would shake their heads in amusement before turning her loose in the children’s section. She’d beg to take home every new story that she hadn’t previously spent hours poring over, eventually convincing her parents to allow her a new armful. “That baby is cute. He just has a big head.”
“Hmmph. I think the word you’re looking for is oblong. And why are his eyes so big?” Granny Marion widened her eyes until they bulged behind her wire-rimmed glasses, her taut brown skin hugging high cheekbones and a proud forehead. Her long, salt-and-pepper hair twisted neatly into a bun at the nape of her neck—a nostalgic reminder of her past as a professional dancer turned dance teacher. Every move of her petite frame flowed with grace and intention, even when she ridiculed their neighbor’s newest family addition.
“Granny.” Zora squeezed out from the window front, smoothing her hands over her shapely figure clad in her usual skinny jeans, camisole and cardigan—today’s was hip length and plum colored. She loved a layered look, and her sweater matched her matte lipstick perfectly. “I’m sure he’ll grow into his features as he gets older.” She leaned down to kiss her grandmother on the cheek. “Remember, I had to grow into my smile—I had that awful headgear the orthodontist made me wear.”
For her entire fifth grade year, Zora had been plagued with jeers and jokes about the metal contraption affixed to her upper jaw to help with her overbite. Her only reprieve was when she ate, but even then, her classmates would tease Zora about her protruding front teeth. She’d sit with her closest friends on benches outside to avoid the meanest kids posted up at tables in the cafeteria.
Granny Marion kissed her granddaughter back, eyes sparkling. “Mmm-hmm, I remember. That gear gave you character. But there ain’t no headgear to fix a misshapen head, baby.”
“Jesus.” Zora shook her head, unable to hide her smile. She grabbed Granny’s hand, entwining their arms, and led her farther into the store. “So what are your plans for today?”
They walked past rows of bookshelves, display tables full of must-read paperbacks, and the checkout counter to a large corner filled with comfortable furniture for patrons to enjoy their purchases. Four-top tables lit with antique desk lamps were often filled with college students studying or local writers needing a change of venue. Against the farthest wall stood a coffee kiosk operated by a local Black-owned coffee shop and bakery. “I’m going to grab myself a latte and a breakfast bagel before I enjoy today’s newspaper.”
Granny Marion visited the store daily without fail, only deviating slightly from her routine when the Kerri’s Coffee kiosk sold holiday-inspired treats and she craved a holiday spice latte with a splash of eggnog instead of her regular skim latte. From open to close, Granny was often the one constant, greeting patrons, playing with kids, sharing her favorite reads and best cake recipes and reading her morning paper. She set her newspaper down on her favorite plush, high-backed chair in the reading corner, winking at the barista as they neared the coffee kiosk. “Hey there, young man, how you doin’ today?”
As they approached, Brian, a shy college sophomore, circled in front of the kiosk to wrap his arms around her. “Good morning, Ms. Marion. I’m doing good. How you doin’?” He waved at Zora. “Hey, Z.”
“What up, B?” Zora slapped him five and grabbed her usual from the counter—a raspberry cheese Danish and an oat milk latte. Before she could grill Brian about his upcoming calculus exam, the bell on the front door jingled. She raised her latte in thanks, and left her grandmother to chat. On Zora’s way to the front, she picked up a folded paper towel from the floor and chucked it into a waste bin. “What’s this doing here?”
Rushing in with several bags in her hands and flushed cheeks was Emma, Zora’s best friend and roommate. Her box braids were swept up into a high bun and framed by a colorful head wrap. Big hoop earrings barely skimmed the shoulders of her chambray dress shirt, which was tied at the waist over a colorful pleated skirt. “Girl. It’s already hot out there—I’m sweating! Now, don’t get mad. I know I’m late.”
Zora bit into her Danish and chewed, waiting. “I’m not mad.” Ain’t nothin’ new.
“It’s just that, I don’t even know how to tell you this…” She shoved her bags into a cabinet under the checkout counter, clenching and releasing her hands as she shuffled from one foot to the other nervously.
Zora sipped her latte, side-eyeing her friend. Nothing was new about these antics. “Rip the Band-Aid off, Em.”
She blew out a breath, grimacing. “I think I lost the inventory tablet. I couldn’t find it last night. It wasn’t in any of my bags or at home. I am so, so sorry. If we can’t find it, I promise I’ll pay for a replacement.” Emma wrung her hands. “I’m kinda hoping you can do your Zor-lock Holmes thing and help me retrace my steps.”
Emma lost everything. Back when they were college roommates, she lost her dorm keys the day she moved in. She lost her car in parking lots, lost her water bottle at yoga, and lost good wigs on multiple occasions when there was no logical reason for them to have been removed in the first place. One time she lost her date, which Zora never let Emma live down. Emma tried organizing differently, or keeping a note on her phone so that she knew where she parked, but then she’d lose her phone. Their freshman year Zora spent all of her free time retracing Emma’s steps to find her lost items, eventually printing instructions to call Zora onto adhesive labels to stick onto most of Emma’s property for the next time it went missing. They used Emma’s number originally, but she lost her phone more than anything else that she owned.
Chewing on a bit of Danish, Zora interlaced her fingers, pushing her palms out in front of her to stretch her arms before shaking them out at her sides. She tilted her head side to side, cracking her neck. “Okay, so you stayed to do inventory last night. What section were you working on?”
“Cookbooks.” Emma bit her lip.
Zora pulled her lips into her mouth, pressing them together as she nodded. “What did you eat for dinner?”
“I bought a chicken wrap from Brian, but then I wanted French fries, so I grabbed some duck fat fries from next door.” The bistro next door boasted New American cuisine with a hefty price tag.
“Ooo, I love those.” Now I want some.
“Right? They’re perfection.” Emma brought her fingertips to her mouth, kissed them and splayed them wide.
“Hmm.” Zora sipped her latte thoughtfully. This is too easy. “Did you check the bathroom? On top of the paper towel dispenser.”
Emma frowned, hugging her arms over her stomach. “Why would I check the bathroom? This isn’t like that time I ate those deep fried Oreos…”
Zora giggled. “I promise you, I wasn’t thinking of the day you blew up the bathroom. Honestly, I’d rather forget that one. Just go check.”
In a huff, her friend turned on her heel, walking back toward the coffee kiosk. “Hey, B! I’ll be right back for my coffee.” The bathroom door opened. “What the— How?” Emma rushed back, tablet in hand, mouth wide open. “How did you know it would be in the bathroom?” She plugged it into a charger hidden behind the counter and grabbed the backup, which was fully charged.
Zora sipped her latte, serving enough suspense to make her friend bounce with anticipation. “You had a chicken wrap and then ordered duck fat fries. You brought the food over to the cookbook section, but you always forget napkins, so you went to the bathroom. You carried the tablet with you, because you were worried you’d lose it. I found a paper towel on the floor next to the cookbook display.”
“So much for keeping it safe,” Emma muttered, eyeing it like the device betrayed her.
“It’s fine, we found the tablet, and now we can keep going through the inventory. Are you still on cookbooks?”
Emma nodded. “One last shelf, and then on to travel.”
“Okay, well let’s try to get through travel and self-help today? I want us to get through a full inventory sweep so that we can place our next orders and start planning out the short-story contest. We only have a couple of months left.”
“You got it. What are you working on today?” Emma leaned against the counter, looking surprised when Brian brought over her cinnamon-topped cappuccino. “You betta stop flirting with me, B!”
He grinned, walking back to the kiosk, as several shoppers wandered into the store.
“I’ve got social media posts, graphics for event flyers, and I’m trying to nail down this author for a book signing in two weeks.” Zora logged in to her workstation, climbing onto her black mesh-back stool at the main checkout desk of the bookstore.
Emma surveyed and greeted the guests, offering a friendly nod. “You know you could work in your office, Z. Take advantage of the peace and quiet? I can handle this out here while you get through some of that computer work.”
“I know you can, but I like it out here.” Zora shrugged.
Emma sucked her teeth. “You should be a professional people-watcher, girl.”
She chuckled in response. “It’s an addiction. I really can’t help it!” Zora watched her friend turn toward the cookbooks, but not before giving Granny Marion some sugar. Squeezing the matriarch’s hand, Emma plopped a big kiss on her cheek before leaning down to whisper something in her ear. Granny chuckled and they slapped five, as Emma strode to the cookbook display, sat cross-legged on the floor and started reviewing inventory figures on the tablet.
Z exchanged an amused look with her grandmother, who blew a kiss in her direction. Catching it, she touched the tips of her fingers to her cheek. She blew a kiss back and turned her attention to her computer monitor. After pulling up the bookstore’s calendar, she made a list of the upcoming events for the next three weeks, putting together digital flyers using templates she’d made previously. She added book covers and author photos to author event flyers, candid photos of regular customers highlighting some of their favorite reads that year, and a photo of Granny Marion reading to a group of children to publicize upcoming story time events. She dropped links to all of the graphics into her social media spreadsheet, where she scheduled out posts weeks in advance, complete with post language, hashtags, author account handles, and registration links. Such a Capricorn.
Being organized was how Zora had gotten the business running smoothly so quickly. After her father died, she’d received a generous inheritance that allowed her to purchase Opus Northeast from its previous owner, Ms. Betty. A bookeller for decades, Ms. Betty had decided to retire and move to Arizona to be closer to her grandchildren. Betty had known Zora since adolescence, and she was delighted to sell her store to someone who loved the place just as much as she did. Zora took great pride in updating Opus Northeast in a way that invited the community to come in and stay awhile.
After a couple of hours of events and social media planning, she moved on to email, deleting all of the spam before responding to emails from book distributors, patrons inquiring about upcoming releases not currently available for preorder, and local authors replying to her invitations for in-store author events. Looking down at her desk, she clicked her tongue at herself for leaving her breakfast sitting there as she worked. She had a habit of leaving food sitting next to her for hours as she zoned in on a task only to pick at it once it was cold. She popped the last of her flaky Danish into her mouth, as a new email hit her inbox. “Oh, my God.”
“What is it?” Emma asked curiously as she advanced toward the counter, setting a fresh latte in front of Zora.
“He said yes.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She lifted the latte to her lips on autopilot, humming softly as she took in the scent. “Thanks.”
Her friend peered over her shoulder. “Is he who I think he is?”
Stunned, Zora looked up at Emma, her brows furrowed in confusion. “He said yes?”
“Are you having a stroke? I’m gonna need for you to use your words, sis.” Emma waved her hand in front of Z’s face.
She couldn’t find the words. Her mouth went dry. Helpless, Zora pointed to her computer screen.
Emma leaned forward. “‘Dear Ms. Dizon,’ blah blah blah. ‘I’ve spoken to Lawrence Michaels, and he would love to have an author event hosted at Opus Northeast! As you may know, he grew up not far from there, and he is excited for an opportunity to read an excerpt from Trial by Fire, which is also based in Northeast D.C. Following the reading, he can stay for a brief Q&A and a book signing,’ blah blah blah. Wow, are you freaking out right now?”
It was no secret that Zora had been crushing hard for years on bestselling author Lawrence Michaels, whose newest installment of his Langston Butler mystery thriller series was selling like hotcakes, and word on the street was that the first two books in the series were being optioned for film. Aside from being a local star, Lawrence’s good looks were undeniable. “I bet he’s tall,” Zora murmured, grabbing his book from a pile of new releases on the counter behind her. Opening the book to the author photo inside the back cover, she ran her fingertips over the image of his clean-shaven brown skin, a hint of a smile curving at the edge of his closed mouth. A cleft in his chin and strong jaw led down the column of his neck to broad shoulders cloaked in a dark blue blazer. “Wonder if he has dimples.”
Emma stared at her friend, pinging her eyes back and forth between Zora and the author photo. “I think you might need to break out the ol’ vibrator tonight, girl. This ‘hot for author’ thing is getting unhealthy. Look at you—you can barely string words together right now. What are you going to do when he gets here? Drool on him?”
Zora swatted her friend away. “I’m fine. It’s just… I didn’t think he’d actually be willing to come here.”
“Why? He’s too big and bad for Brookland? He’s from here!” Emma shoved her hands onto her hips.
Zora pulled at one of her tight curls, coiling it around her finger. “You know what I mean. Folks like that set their sights higher than modest indie bookstores like this. And he’s from Petworth.”
“He’s from D.C. And he could still be a total douche. Besides, when have you ever cared about someone having too much bravado to fit their big ass head through our doors? He’s lucky to be invited, girl. Don’t gas that dude up too much.” Emma dragged her fingers across her throat, deading the subject. She really should have gone to law school.
She struggled to find the words. “I just— I’m surprised is all.”
“‘Oh, Rexy, you’re so sexy.’” Emma quoted one of their favorite movie quotes from their college days—they’d scored a box of her sister’s old DVDs and binge-watched everything, but some lines stuck forever. Emma was forever quoting Empire Records, Center Stage, and The Cutting Edge. She curled her fingers into a claw and delicately pawed in Zora’s direction as she turned toward the travel section.
Exasperated, she pursed her lips, still tugging at her curls. “I hate you.”
Vickie's Book Nook and Meditation Corner 