Ghost Writer (Raven Maxim Book 1) by Tiana Laveen Page A

trail of silence between them, but one that softened the mood.
    “You think I’m mean, Emerald?”
    “It’s no coincidence you live on a street called Grim Avenue. You are mean, Sugar… just a mean old lady walking around killing people’s good mood,” Emerald teased behind a tearful chuckle and wiped another tear from her right eye.
    “Am I?” The woman cackled. “I guess a little bit. I’ll have to pray on it I suppose, but let me tell you something. I’ve always worried about you, told James that all the time, too, because a little girl needs her mama. I did the best I could from long distance, here in Waco, but nothing can replace a child’s mama. You turned out just fine though, divorced ’nd all, ’cause prayers work.”
    “I could feel your prayers.” Emerald made her way to the kitchen sink and poured herself a glass of water from the tap.
    “When Bea died, I was overcome with grief. She was just a baby, but you were my strength, Emerald.”
    She felt more tears welling in her eyes and fought them as she looked down, her vision blurry, proving it was far too late to get off the emotional rollercoaster now. The glass teetered in her hand. Daddy’s birthday was proving to be a bit too much. He was gone too early—far too soon, just like her little sister, Bea.
    Bea had suffered with sickle cell anemia. The little girl was so young during the time of her passing, but she still recalled Bea’s strawberry shaped face and wide smile.
    “James lost a good job racing around to the hospitals, the clinics, everywhere he could go to have her looked at. He was determined to help his baby girl, but he was boxing with the Devil, Emerald, so the odds weren’t in his favor. You know diseases are creations from the Devil now, don’t you?”
    “Sugar, I think that no matter how we look at it, whatever I, you, or anyone else believes, we know they aren’t good. Bea’s death happened only a few months after Mama left, and I think… I don’t think daddy was ever the same after that. I think his heart was broken so badly by that point, he could probably never make a full recovery.”
    They were quiet for a good while.
    Mama didn’t come to the funeral. No one even knew if she realized her youngest baby was dead. We found out later she didn’t… and I hated her even more for that…
    “Sugar, I gotta finish these up.” Emerald sighed as she laid out her escape from the conversation, unable to take one more draining moment.
    “All right, baby. Call me later, here?”
    “I will.”
    “I love you, understand? Always will.”
    “I love you too, Sugar… Now please don’t forget to take your medicine and I’ll call you later tonight and check in on you.” And then she reached over and disconnected the call. But Emerald’s brain was far from finished. It didn’t shut off or disconnect from the conversation. No, it just kept on churning and burning and yearning for a closure her heart would never fully receive…

CHAPTER THREE
    I Hate People
    The fastest way to get over old pussy is to get some new pussy…
    R etro-style buttercream chairs with dark chestnut leather binding lined the crystallized amber and gold bar table that seemed to go on for miles. A live jazz band stood in the not so far distance doing a catchy rendition of ‘Woman’ by John Lennon. Mike’s shoulder bumped into his a time or two as he and four of his friends chatted it up after a long day of sightseeing and visiting the ‘Dead Flowers’ shop for kicks and giggles. Sloan slid his fingers along the Guinness pint mug, latched hold to the handle and chugged back, soon feeling a light layer of froth tickle his upper lip as tiny bubbles burst against his skin.
    “Now they’re cookin’!” Mike slurred, half drunk, as an interesting interpretation of Toto’s ‘Africa’ began to play. “Yeah! Takes me back to my college days.” His full, plump cheeks pushed upward, almost swallowing his tiny, glimmering eyes. “Remember?”
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