Friday, May 16, 2008

The Breakfast Club - A Segment of the EVERY DAY IS MOTHER'S DAY BLOG TOUR!

Oooh this blog is so....




EMOTIONAL.






In honor of ordinary mothers, doing extraordinary things, APOOO is hosting an Every Day is Mother's Day Tour during the month of May. I was invited to participate in the tour and I jumped at the chance to honor my mother! Please leave a comment! Tell me what makes YOUR mother special!





This poem is dedicated to my mother, Patsy Ruth Nash. She is the light in my heart. Everything that I am, I owe to GOD for choosing her for me.











The Breakfast Club
By Ebony Farashuu

We thought it was the coolest thing…
Breakfast for dinner.

Captain Crunch, scrambled eggs, pancakes or French toast
It has to be one of the most
Profound memories from my youth.

“Hey, Girls, how about cereal tonight?”
She would ask.
And us girls…we would be overjoyed
Cuz only a mama as great as ours would even think to toy
With the idea of pulling out the Rice Crispies
And three bowls
And three spoons
And a carton of milk
And allow her kids to do what the other kids on our block could only dream about.

We didn’t know then that her smile was one of relief…
Relief that her girls didn’t question
Why we weren’t having pork chops like the Smith’s
Or
Why we weren’t eating fried chicken like the Johnson’s
Or why we were having cereal for the third day in a row.

We didn’t know that sometimes…cereal was all mama had to feed us.

We didn’t know that Mama sometimes lied when she said…
Oh, baby, Mama isn’t hungry.”

We didn’t know that Mama sometimes cried, wondering where our next meal would come from.

What we did know, what that she was the best!
We only knew that we were blessed
And she set an example for us through her hard work and dedication to her family!

Eventually, breakfast was served only at breakfast
And our evening meal was fit for the Queens she raised us to believe that we were!

But sometimes…She still let us eat cereal for dinner
Just because she could.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Have You Read SLOW BURN?


Ayzha Darwin is trapped in a marriage where intimacy is non-existant and the desire to cheat is overwhelming. Will she have the strength to stay faithful to her husband? When is a friendly lunch between platonic friends dangerous? When the platonic friend is a secret.....


Take a sneak peek at chapter 5 of SLOW BURN and tell me what you think!





Chapter 5



Thunder is the sound that lightening makes. I saw him leaning towards me smiling his electric smile, and heard his voice telling me all of the things I thought I wanted to hear. The low rumblings made me shiver. His cautious touch sent a jolt of raw energy through my body.

“So, when can I see you again?”

It reminded me of an old Babyface song. I loved the acoustic guitar on that track; and as I sat inside of Tyree’s car watching storm clouds slowly descend upon the park where we’d chosen to meet discreetly, that song played over and over in my mind.

I wasn’t doing anything wrong. We talked. I didn’t touch him, not even when he placed his hand over mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. I didn’t squeeze back so I was pretty sure it couldn’t be called holding hands.

“You shouldn’t be seeing me now,” I said glancing over at him.

His dark eyes flashed with amusement and a satisfied smirk eased itself over his face.

“I do believe the lady is still afraid.”

“Of you? Whatever.” I dismissed his assessment of my emotions with a wave of my hand.

“I want to kiss you.” He said it so simply he may as well have been telling me that he liked the color blue.

“What makes you think that I want to kiss you?”

“You’re here.” Tyree fingered the lace at the hem of my pink skirt.

He had no right to touch my skirt, had no right to squeeze my exposed knee, but I did nothing to stop him, just took a controlled breath and stared at his hand stroking my leg so familiarly.

“I’m leaving,” I said evenly.

“Now, you know you’re not leaving until I get my kiss.”

“Then I guess we’ll be stuck here for a very long time.”

“Would that be so bad?” Now, he was tracing lazy circles on my bare arm, “Stuck here with me in the middle of a storm?”

I didn’t answer. I reached for the door handle. He reached for my hand. I froze.

“I have to get back. I’ll be late.” I almost sounded as if I were begging.

“I know. The sooner I get my kiss the sooner you can leave.”

I took another deep breath, and then another, and then another. Panic was beginning to sink in but I couldn’t allow him to see the affect he was having on me. I should never have agreed to this. I knew that it was wrong. What had possessed me to agree to meet up with Tyree in such an intimate, confined space? Words like neglect, disregard, and despair popped into my head. Loneliness, frustration, stupidity… Oh just get it over with.

I leaned in and just as I was about to kiss him, Tyree shook his head and quickly exited the car. Dumbfounded, I watched as he walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for me. His strong hands grabbed mine, pulling me from the confines of his black Lexus. We were standing too close to one another. I couldn’t look at him. Sensing my embarrassment, Tyree turned me around, hugged me from behind, and planted the lightest of kisses on the left side of my neck.

“You look beautiful today.”

“Don’t say that,” I whispered.

“Why not? It’s the truth.” Tyree rested his chin on my shoulder.

I saw a flash of lightening. One Mississippi…two Mississippi…three Mississippi, thunder gently rolled in the distance. A significant amount of tension left my body and I began to relax in his embrace. Wobbly, my knees became. Rapidly, my heart beat. I felt as if I would slide right out of his arms and fold up like a chair after a tent revival.

“You’d better go.”

“Yes.”

He opened my car door and I quickly got in. My hands were shaking so badly I damn near poked myself in the eye trying to put my shades on. The sun wasn’t shining anymore.

“Thanks for lunch.” I allowed myself to look at him. I almost hated myself for liking what I saw.

“Anytime, Lady.” He replied.

I drove away slowly, gently fingering the sensitive spot on my neck Tyree had chosen to kiss. I dared to close my eyes at the stop sign. I could still feel the gentle pressure of his lips on my skin. Suddenly, my situation was very clear. I had just had lunch, in a park, in a car, with someone who was definitely not the man I’d pledged my life to in a church full of friends and family eight years ago. My skin began to itch and I nervously raked my fingernails up and down my arm.

I had just had lunch with another man and instead of feeling guilty I felt…rejuvenated. I giggled anxiously. My body began to tremble, but the nervous itch was gone, replaced by a tingling sensation I wasn’t accustomed to feeling. I spotted his car slowly approaching from behind me, and a smile overtook my mocha-glossed lips. Ohhhhhh….I’m in so much trouble.

Friday, May 9, 2008

FROM DAWN TO DUSK Virtual Book Tour!



Against All Odds 2008 Virtual Book Tour







From Dawn to Dusk
Niambi Davis
Parker Publishing, May 1st, 2008$10.95 US; ISBN-10: 1600430368


Meet Bilal and Ayo, two people who are polar opposites in every way. He’s 32 and she’s 42. Bilal is ready to get married and start a family. Ayo, on the other hand, is a comfortably relaxed, in- her own skin widow with a 20 year old son. And she's certain her child-bearing days are over. Bilal is Muslim, and Ayo is most certainly not. Neither Bilal's father, nor Ayo's son are too happy about the relationship. These two, having nothing in common, would struggle to even hold a conversation, much less fall in love? And after their disastrous first encounter, you’d think it was impossible. Or is it?


Niambi Brown Davis, debut author of From Dawn to Dusk, has asked me this question, "Which of these issues - older woman/younger man, different faiths, disgruntled family members, late in life motherhood/infertility issues - has the potential to wreck the most havoc on Ayo and Bilal's relationship and keep them from walking down the aisle?"

Now, of course, you know that I have a lot to say on everything and when I respond it will be in true Ebony Farashuu fashion. So, check out my response below and let me know if I've done it justice.

MY RESPONSE

Mama’s Got Some Business, Get Some of Your Own!

Oh my God! You just walked in on your mother locked in an intimate embrace with a man who is young enough to be her son! Well, maybe not quite that young, but he’s young enough to be your big brother from another mother and it’s just damned inappropriate! She should be ashamed of herself! What could she possibly be thinking? Perhaps it would be better if she was dating a man her own age! Close your eyes and picture your mama kissing a man with broad shoulders and hair that is neatly graying at the temples. Is that better? Probably not because, let’s face it. You can’t stand the thought of ANY man putting his hands on your mother. I mean after all, she’s only had sex one time in her life and that was for the sole purpose of creating you!

Niambi Brown Davis writes of such a situation in her latest book, “From Dawn To Dusk”. Ayo is a forty-two year old widow and the mother of twenty year old Kidar. In Kidar’s eyes, Ayo has committed the mother of all sins…pun intended. After years of catering to Kidar’s every need, making him the only man in her life and living for him alone…Ayo has the audacity to go out and get a life of her own. To add insult to injury, she’s actually giving this new man in her life some attention. The attention that in Kidar’s eyes, belongs to only him.

Bilal has come into Ayo’s life and reminded her that not only is she a mother…but she is a beautiful woman who deserves to be loved and touched. In Bilal, Ayo has found love, commitment, excitement, and passion. Her son, however, can’t see the new glimmer in her eyes or the new glow that surrounds her. He can’t see the playful pep in her step or the smile that seems to appear more often than usual. He only sees his laundry piling up, meals he has to cook for himself, and problems he has to solve on his own now that his mother is unavailable. Bilal has got to go!

My question to you is when does the responsibility of raising your children end? Boys typically have a hard time seeing their mother with ANY man, including their own father. I can attest to the fact that my son holds a special place in my heart and if you ask him, he will let you know that his daddy is my husband…but my son is my MAIN MAN.

When he was a toddler I vividly remember him showering my face with kisses and I would say, “Woogie, do you love me?” And he would smile and say, “Mommy, you my maaaaiiin man!” It was his way of returning my biggest compliment to him and it was just so cute that I never corrected him. When he was three or so, someone asked him if he had a girlfriend and he said, “My girlfwen’s name is mommy.”

Of course he didn’t mean that literally, but in his young mind, I was a girl and I was his mommy and I was his best friend! Daddy was fun, but mommy just had a way of making everything better. Mommy was da bomb!

Last summer, my husband and I took our children to a CAMEO concert. I jumped out of my seat and started dancing when they started singing “Single Life”. THAT’S MY JAM!!! When Larry Blackmon, in all his red cupped glory, said, “Single Ladies Clap Your Hands…” I was clapping along with all of the other women. My little boy, who was nine at the time, snatched my hands down and said angrily, “You’re not single!” Everyone around us started laughing but it wasn’t funny to my son. He was serious. It was his way of protecting his father’s interests as well as his own.

So what if something happened to my husband and I was left to raise my son and daughter alone? The very thought of it sends chills up and down my spine!

We tell our children that no matter how old they get, they will always be our babies. My mama said it to me and I say it to my kids all of the time. “I don’t care how old you get…you’ll always be my baby. Even when you have babies of your own…you’ll always be my baby.”

So when they ARE grown yet still our babies, it’s so hard for many men and even women to understand that, just like them, their parents are deserving of a life outside of their immediate family. And while the resentment and feelings of abandonment are understandable, isn’t it more than annoying to hear a grown man complaining about his mother going out on a date…a complaint he often makes while he is out on a date of his own?

Grown children I have a newsflash for you. You have a life because your mother made sure of it. She prepared you for all aspects of life but one…she never allowed you so see how lonely she was throughout the years. She always smiled her way through the pain and she always made you feel as if you were all that she needed. We were not put on this Earth to be alone. We were placed on this Earth to love and to be loved. It’s the only way that the human race can survive. A child’s love is a wonderful thing and the rewards are great….but what is your mother supposed to do when you leave and find a grown up love of your own?

I pray that if I am ever placed in this situation, my children will be understanding and will actually want me to be happy independently of them. I was always thrilled when my mother found love because it meant that she was happy and in my mind, when Mama was happy, the world was a better place. I loved to see her smile…still do. But for those you who have grown children who call you selfish for finally deciding to try and find your own happily ever after…

Tell them that you love them, tell them that they are still your babies, and then hang a sign on your front door that says… "DO NOT DISTURB. Mama’s got some business; get some of your own!”





Wednesday, April 16, 2008

SORMAG Reader's Choice Awards 2007




Ooh this blog is so....






....EXCITING! Whooo Hooooo!!!!!!






I just found out that the readers of Shades Of Romance Online Magazine.... have named ME the best Multi-Cultural Fiction Author of 2007, Best NEW Multi-Cultural Fiction Author of 2007, and my novel, SLOW BURN, has been named Best Multi-Cultural Fiction Book of 2007!




WOW! Talk about ELATED, EXCITED, ECSTATIC, OVERJOYED....you name any happy adjective, look it up in the dictionary, and you will see MY PICTURE cheesin' real hard like this..


THANK YOU to all of the readers who voted for me and for my book! YAAAAYYY!!
For more information on SORMAG and all of the winners of the READER'S CHOICE AWARDS, please visit the SORMAG BLOG

Sunday, April 6, 2008

The Message: 100 Life Lessons From Hip Hop's Greatest Songs




Ooh This Blog Is So...

...informative!



Recently I had the pleasure of reading Felicia Pride's new book, The Message: 100 Life Lessons From Hip Hop's Greatest Songs. As a fan of true Hip-Hop I was thrilled when TheGrits.com asked me to review her book for the online book club!

The Message, 100 Life Lessons from Hip-Hop’s Greatest Songs is a collection of short essays that reflect the authors interpretation of specific lyrics in 100 of her favorite songs and the impact those lyrics have had on her life. In this book, Felecia Pride quotes obvious greats such as Tupac Shakur, Outkast, Notorious B-I-G, and the Wutang Clan. She also quotes lines form obscure rappers that most of today’s hip-hop lovers have never heard of...

To read this review in its entirety, please visit THEGRITS.COM

Saturday, April 5, 2008

The Corner Bookstore LIVE

Ooh This Blog Is So.....


.....EXCITING!

Welcome to The Corner Bookstore, an hour long segment on 1340 The Groove, in Tulsa, Oklahoma! This segment is dedicated to advancing literacy in the community by discussing great literature! The show airs during the lunch hour on Fridays and will feature Author, Ebony Farashuu along with on-air DJ Big Druu! 1340 The Groove is committed to airing quality music and programming that can be enjoyed by all. Our show will consist of book reviews, book discussions, giveaways, and author interviews. For those who are unable to listen to the show LIVE on the air, don’t fret! We will also be airing the show via podcast, allowing our show to be heard worldwide at your convenience! Please join us as we strive to make The Corner Bookstore the place to be on Friday afternoons! So ADD Groove Books to your friend’s list today! http://www.myspace.com/groovebooks

If you’re an author who would like to be featured on The Corner Bookstore, please send only a Query letter to groovebooks@yahoo.com. Please DO NOT SEND MANUSCRIPTS! Please be ready to send a synopsis and the first three chapters of your book UPON REQUEST! Books submitted for consideration must be published and available via Barnes and Noble, Borders, and Amazon.com. Please NO EROTICA.

For information on writing Query letters, please visit http://www.selfpublishingsite.com/

Sincerely,

The Corner Bookstore Staff

Saturday, March 15, 2008

The Bunny Whisperer

Ooh This Blog Is So.....


.....Deranged, but sometimes you've got to get those thoughts out of your head and share them with the world. Easter is descending upon us, and I can't speak for you, but I find it weird that even people who aren't religious still celebrate religious holidays by simply buying into the commercialism and not really concerning themselves with the true meaning of the celebration. This blog is a humorous piece that was not written to offend anyone.

Without further explanation I present....



The Bunny Whisperer

I was walking through the mall, minding my own business when I heard the terrified screams of children reverberating throughout the customer service area. I ducked into a dark corner, expecting to see a masked man with a gun but instead I was greeted by a site that, to a child and any reasonable adult, was just as frightening. It was hideous. It was unbelievable. It was unnerving. It was a rabbit on steroids.

There are some poor misguided souls who would venture to call that monstrosity a bunny but I’ve never seen a bunny who could potentially slap a basketball out of Shaquille O’Neil’s hand and taunt “Get that weak mess outta here!” Bunnies are cute and cuddly with just a hint of mischief in their beady little eyes. That rabbit that had obviously indulged in one too many plutonium cocktails.

I boldly approached the offending beast and got all up in his face. “Where did you come from?” I wanted to know. “And just how the hell are you laying eggs, Mister? Wait! Don’t tell me. The visual is killing me.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying to shake off the unwanted image as the various smells of the food court suddenly collided with my nostrils, swirling about my head until I thought I’d throw up from the nauseating combination.

Now, you’re probably wondering how I could possibly be so brave while standing in front of that hideous creature but I’d just had a box of Krispy Kremes and a shot of espresso and the sugar rush alone was causing false courage to course through my veins. The caffeine chaser just made me jumpy and ready swing on a bogus hopper if the situation called for it.

“Explain yourself, rabbit.” I knocked the carrot out of his hand and dared him to do anything about it.

“I’m a bunny.” He answered snidely.

“You, Sir, are NO bunny.”

“Gimme a break, lady. I have a headache, it’s hot as hell, and I’ve already been pissed on three times.”

“Tell me what I want to know and I’ll be on my way.” I told him. “How in the world did a mutant rabbit become the symbol of Easter?”

The rabbit who claimed to be a bunny sighed softly, took me by the hand, and led me to his pastel throne. “Have a seat.” He patted his lap and I just stared at him with a look of disgust on my face.

“Pervert.”

“Oh come on. I promise not to molest you.’ He held up his furry hands and beckoned for me but his smile was freaking me out.

Rather than show him that I may have been a wee bit intimidated, I gave him the funkiest of sistah-girl neck and eye roll combinations and held my hand up as if to say, “critter please.”

“Didn’t you just tell me that you’d been pissed on three times? I’ll stand.” I held his carrot in my hand and made a bending motion. “Spill it, or I’ll be serving this carrot at my next dinner party.”

If his eyes weren’t painted on he probably would have rolled them. Instead, he just shook his head and began to tell me the story of Ostara, the pagan goddess of spring.

“I used to be a bird.” He said sadly. “I would fly from place to place singing a beautiful melody until one day, for reasons I’m still trying to figure out, Ostara decided to turn me into a rabbit. I was quite sad, as you can probably imagine, because although I could still fly, I really missed being a bird.”

“Shut up.” I poked him in the chest, “You can fly?”

“Please don’t say that too loudly. These damn brats will be begging for rides next.” He told me. “Anyway, Ostara felt sorry for me, but not sorry enough to turn me back into a bird. Once a year she allows me to lay eggs like a bird but I have to give them away. Only good children are supposed to get my eggs but as you can see..” he motioned towards a group of kids standing in line throwing tantrums and cussing their parents out, “…many parents have found a way around that rule.” He added angrily. “I can’t tell you how jacked up it is to see PAAS and Cadbury's making all of that money off of me and not giving me a dime. Hell, can a Bunny at least get enough to buy some carrot seeds? Those corporate fools have paved the way for ANY little heathen to get an Easter egg.”

“Well damn.” I had a newfound respect for this big hunk of fur. I mean, personally, he didn’t have anything to do with my beliefs surrounding Easter, but I guess, in his own way, he had a purpose.” I suddenly felt kind of sorry for him, getting peed on and having to deal with all of those crying babies and overzealous parents.” I handed him his carrot and smiled warmly at him. “I’ll let you get back to your job. Sorry about the threat of violence, I’m all jacked up on Krispy Kremes.”

It was a lame excuse but it made him laugh.

I started to walk away when he called out to me. “Hey, Lady.”

I turned just as he tossed me a large chocolate egg wrapped in beautiful gold foil.

“I laid that one just for you.” He winked at me.

“Thanks Easter Bunny!”