Cover Reveal: The Divorce Chronicles 2

I am so excited to show you all the book cover for Book 2 of my series, The Divorce Chronicles (which I designed myself). I got so many compliments on the cover for Book 1. I wanted to make the covers and colors pop and stand out. Due to the fact that there are limited stock images featuring African-Americans, it’s easy to see why so many author’s book covers and models look the same; so I decided to go with vector images instead, and I absolutely love the results.

If you haven’t read book one yet, click the link to get your copy.

http://www.amazon.com/Divorce-Chronicles-Simone-Book-ebook/dp/B01F99ZSTO

Readers thought Book 1 was as informative as it was hilarious, so you won’t want to miss it. Also, Book 2 picks up where Book 1 left off, only instead of focusing on Simone, I’ve shifted focus to her best friend and confidant, Danielle, who has discovered that her marriage to her husband, Mike isn’t as solid as she thought it was. Check out the cover for Book 2 below.

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The Divorce Chronicles now in Paperback

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The Divorce Chronicles ebook is holding steady at #16 on Amazon Best Sellers list in the Family Relationships >>Divorce category and it’s now available in paperback. I couldn’t be more proud of the compliments I have gotten so far on the cover, because I designed it myself. And the content between the front and back cover is just as great. Click the links below to order your copy.

Kindle:

https://www.amazon.com/Divorce-Chronicles-Simone-Book-ebook/dp/B01F99ZSTO

Paperback:

https://www.createspace.com/6264682

Sample Sunday: Sugar Daddies

I walked into the restaurant and looked around trying to locate Donnell. I didn’t see him. I looked down at my watch. We’d agreed to meet at seven o’clock. It was six-forty five. I was a little early, so I didn’t trip. I walked over to the bar, which was close by the door, to wait for him. I watched people walk in and out, but after twenty minutes, still no Donnell. I was beginning to think I’d been stood up, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I swiveled around on the bar stool and came face to face with an older gentleman. My purse was setting on the stool beside me, and I assumed he wanted me to move it so he could sit down.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” I said as I reached for my purse.

“Simone?” the man asked.    sugar

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen this man before. “Yes, I’m Simone.”

“I thought so. I’m Donnell.”

I simply stared at the man. I know he didn’t just say what I thought he said. I did a quick scan of him. He was bald, except for the hair on the sides of his head. He was short and fat- he put me in the mind of Carl Winslow from that Steve Urkel tv show. He had none of the features that the man I’d conversed with online had. I quickly decided that he couldn’t be the same Donnell I was there to see.

“Oh, nice to meet you, Donnell,” I said before turning my attention back to the football game that was playing on the tv mounted up on the wall.
I felt another tap on the shoulder. The old man was still standing there staring down at me.

“Yes, can I help you?” I asked with a smile. He was starting to agitate me, but I was raised to respect my elders.

“Yes, we agreed to meet here. I’m Donnell…from the dating site.”

My smile slowly morphed into a frown. No way was this the man I’d been talking to online. This had to be a joke. I looked around the bar, expecting the real Donnell to be standing in a corner laughing at the joke he was playing. Well, ha ha…jokes over.

“No…that can’t be. The man I was talking to online is…”

“My son,” he said before I could finish.

“Your what?!” I exclaimed, my voice raising a few octaves.

He sat on the bar stool beside me and gave me a sly grin. “Let me explain.”

“Yes…please do.” I tried not to notice that his feet dangled from the stool and didn’t touch the floor.
“Well, my name is Donnell, but I used my son’s pictures to create the profile on my online social sites. I have a hard time meeting women, both in person and online. They take one look at me, and run for the hills. So, I’ve started using his photos to get women to talk to me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“So, you deceive women for your own personal enjoyment?” I asked him. “And what happens when you meet them and they realize they’ve been bamboozled?”

“Well, you’re the first woman who’s ever agreed to meet me in person. I guess I never expected you to say yes,” he said sheepishly.

I can’t believe this. I’ve been freaking catfished. I took in Donnell’s appearance. At least I know what the 65 in ‘browngirllover65’ stands for. He’s got to be at least that old, if not older. He had on a tweed blazer jacket, corduroy pants, and the white dress shirt he had on looked as if the button were struggling not to pop open. First Gary, now Donnell. I wish I would see Cupid’s little ass right now. I’d take his arrow and beat him with it.

“I apologize for lying to you, but it’s so hard trying to find a woman who doesn’t judge me based on my looks alone. I’m really a good guy, but nobody will give me a chance because I don’t look like a supermodel.”

I was initially mad at Donnell for his cruel joke, but I felt my heart softening and I began to feel a little sorry for him. Would it be wrong of me to try to get him to hook me up with his son, though?

“So, since we’re both here, would you like to have a drink with me…my treat?” he asked me.

“Sure.”

Author’s Note: The Divorce Chronicles

I am so excited about my upcoming book, The Divorce Chronicles.

Read my Authors Note and check out the book on May 6, 2016 on Kindle

When I got the idea for writing The Divorce Chronicles Series, divorce chroniclesI was newly separated. My own four and a half year marriage had run it’s course. My now, ex-husband and I started dating in 2007 and we got married four years later. We divorced in 2015. The nearly nine years worth of headache, heartache, blood, sweat, and tears that I had given this man had me all in my feelings, so I started a blog titled Not So Happily Ever After. I’m not much of a talker; I’ve never liked talking to anybody much, especially about my feelings, so writing this blog was the most logical way to go for me. It was an almost therapeutic way for me to express the feelings that I’ve kept bottled up inside of me and craftily concealed, hidden by my smile, my praise for my ex-husband, and the seemingly perfect image of marriage that I showed to outsiders.
I started writing The Divorce Chronicles back in 2015, during what had to be the fastest separation and divorce process I’ve ever seen. We became separated in mid-September and by mid-November, our divorce was final. After all of those years together, it was all over in a couple of months. During my marriage, I often referred to myself as an actress who’d auditioned for and won the role of a happily married woman, and I played the hell out of that role. Everyday, I got up, got dressed, put on my clothes, shoes, my smile, and my game face on. Ex-girlfriends (who were still very much present), ex-baby-mama’s, random chicks that he’d been involved with-they all found their way right in the center of our relationship at some point or another, but I was ready to deal with any and everything they wanted to bring my way. Because at the end of they day, I had the ring and his last name…they didn’t. From the outside looking in, people thought I was as happy as I portrayed myself to be. On the inside, I was far from happy, but I still continued to hype up my husband the way a loving wife should. I made him seem like he was as close to perfect as one could get. I had taken a vow to stay with him for better or for worse, til’ death, and I was determined to do just that. Even though the trust had been broken long before we ever even thought about marriage- which meant our foundation already had a crack in it and we would crumble eventually- I was still determined to play the hand I was dealt to the best of my ability. Eventually, I lost myself while playing this role. I started thinking, “Why are you trying to prove to these other chicks how much your husband loves you and how happy you two are? That’s not your place to do that…that’s his job.”
I was miserable inside, regardless of how happy I appeared to be in our couples selfies and the numerous photos we’d take together. The fire had long since died out in our marriage, but still I hung in there, hoping that something would spark and re-ignite the flames, and we’d get that old thang back that had kept us together for so long. I told myself to just keep smiling, that I could handle whatever was thrown at me, as long as my kids were happy. In the end, I finally realized that I deserved to be happy too, and I wasn’t. Like myself, many women stay in unhappy marriages everyday for different reasons. The ridicule and criticism from family and friends was another reason I sucked it up and dealt with it. Sometimes, your family members think they know what’s better for you and your life more than you do, even though they’re not the one’s who have to walk in your shoes.
My blog became my diary that I chose to share with the world. And as I blogged, I started seeing characters in my head who were going through their own divorces, which is how the concept for this series came about. Lastly, none of this is to bash my ex- or any man- but rather to help me. Each time I purge myself of the many different emotions I have felt over the years that I kept hidden from everybody on the outside looking in, I’m able to exhale and I feel better about myself and the decision I made to finally stop pretending and truly be happy. Hope you enjoy! XOXO
Joyce

Sample Sunday: The Divorce Chronicles (Book 1)

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**Unedited & subject to change before publication**

Over the next couple of days, Mark and I kept in contact and it was like old times again. He called me every evening after I got off from work, and we’d talk for hours about any and everything, just like we used to do in high school. I’d gotten comfortable on my favorite spot on the couch when he’d called me two hours ago, and I still wasn’t tired of talking to him.

“I can’t wait to see you on Saturday,” he said Tuesday night as we talked.

“I can’t wait to see you, either,” I blushed and giggled. Mark always did have the ability to make me feel like a teenage girl.

“What are you wearing right now? I’m visualizing you in some sexy lingerie, or a cute little nightie,” Mark said.

“Ooh, you naughty boy.” I looked down at my blue Betty Boop pajamas- the material worn out and torn due to the friction caused by my inner thighs rubbing together- and faded due to repeated washing and drying, and my baggy t-shirt- my usual lounge around the house attire. Completing the look were my pink house shoes, and the black, satin bonnet I wore at night to protect my hair from breakage as I slept.

“I hate to ruin your visual, but what I’m wearing right now isn’t sexy at all.”

I made a mental note to upgrade my nighttime wardrobe as soon as possible. Being married to Chauncey, I got comfortable wearing my ratty pj’s around him. He’d made a comment one night a while back that he wasn’t turned on by my bed clothes. I’d told him that if I could deal with his old, holey draws, he didn’t have a thing to say to me about my sleepwear. And anyway, I wasn’t trying to turn him on…that was the whole point of wearing the most unsexiest garments I could find to wear to bed at night. Now that I’m single, maybe it’s time add a few slinky nightgowns or something to my wardrobe.

“Anything you wear is sexy,” Mark said.

Before I could respond to him, I heard Bryceson calling my name loudly as he entered the front door, and I was annoyed to see that he wasn’t alone.

What is he doing here, now? “Uh, Mark, can I call you back, or we can just talk tomorrow? Bryceson just walked in.” I purposely left out the fact that my ex-husband had walked in behind him.

“Sure, babe. I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night.”

We ended our call, and I immediately wished that I wasn’t sitting around in my raggedy pj’s. Even though Chauncey has seen me wearing this many times before, I don’t want him to think that I’m sitting around like an old maid who’s content with the fact that she has no dating prospects lined up.

“Why are you here now, Chauncey?” I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance at his presence. Bryce had sent me a text earlier saying that Chauncey had picked him up from school and they’d gone to shoot basketball and to the gym. However, he didn’t need to get out of the car and come inside just to drop him off at home.

“Well, I uh…I have a big problem,” Chauncey began.

“What’s your problems got to do with me?”

“Well, uh, after we got done at the gym, we went back to my house for a little while, just to hang out because Bryce wasn’t ready to come home yet. We were in the living room when we heard this loud noise. Turns out, my hot water heater busted and now water is all over the place.” He paused, as if he expected me to say something.

Sounds like a personal problem to me, I thought. I remained silent while Chauncey finished telling me about his heater bursting. I wonder if my facial expression is showing how truly uninterested I am in what he’s talking about right now. I’ve almost learned how to keep my mouth under control, and not say any and everything that comes to mind; but my facial expressions…that’s another story.

“Oh; well thanks for bringing Bryce home. Bryce, lock the door behind Chauncey when he leaves,” I said after he’d finished talking, not the least bit sympathetic to his situation.

“That’s just it. I won’t be able to stay in my place for a while, so…it looks like I’ll have to stay over here for a few days, until I get everything cleaned up and get a new heater.”

“Like hell you will!” I responded. It was then that I noticed that Chauncey was carrying a suitcase and a duffle bag over his shoulder. “I know you don’t think you’re staying over here?”

“I don’t got nowhere else to go, Simone.”

“Uh, what about your child’s mother?” I asked, trying to refrain from referring to her as his baby’s mama. Even though she looks like a little hoodrat, I’ve never liked the terms baby mama/baby daddy.

“Uh, she uh…don’t got her own place. She’s living with her mama. And anyway, I’m not even sure that baby is mine.”

“Humph! Well again, that has nothing to do with me. There are plenty of hotels, motels, and Holiday Inn’s around here…take your pick.”

“Simone, I don’t have money to stay in no motel, and it might be a few days before I can get back into my place.”

“Don’t you have a mama? Go stay with her.”

“You know my mama lives over an hour away from here…that long commute will make getting to and from work everyday hard on me. Please, Simone, I just need to stay here for a few days.”

“Ma, don’t be like that…he has nowhere else to go,” Bryce decided to add his little two cents in.

I slanted my eyes at him. Traitor. He knows how I feel about Chauncey…we just had a talk about him being around me a few days ago. But if I don’t let my ex-husband stay here, I’ll look like the bad guy in Bryce’s eyes. I wouldn’t put it past Chauncey if he didn’t cause the damage to the hot water heater himself. He’s a sneaky little devil, and ever since he snooped through my emails that day and found out about my tryst with Mark in Vegas, he’s probably trying to find a way to mess things up for me.

Both Bryce and Chauncey stood there watching me with pleading eyes. I sighed heavily before I spoke my next words. “Fine, you can stay here for one week. That should give you enough time to get the heater fixed or find somewhere else to stay.”

Chauncey smiled and headed down the hallway, towards the bedroom.

“Ummm, hold up…pump your brakes,” I said when I saw him getting ready to walk into my room. “You’ll be sleeping on the couch, and you can keep your things in Bryce’s room.” The devil is a bold-faced lie if he thinks Chauncey will climb his butt back up in my bed. Hell to the nah!