Authors: Stacy Campbell
Forgive Me
Dear Reader:
Stacy Campbell's debut project,
Dream Girl Awakened
, was a highly successful novel complete with twists and turns.
Forgive Me
is her sequel and as the title suggests, the author explores the quality of forgiveness. Sometimes one can forgiveâbut they will never forget.
After broken friendships and mishaps, will Victoria Faulk forgive her former friend, Aruba Dixon? Will Aunjanue forgive her mother, Tawatha Gipson, once she is released from prison after five years?
Facing the challenges of marriage and divorce, grief and female bonding, discover if these characters are able to pardon and move on with their livesâtogether or apart.
Stacy, who listened to her relatives' stories on her family's front porch, spins a wonderful tale that surely will appeal to all readers. Everyone can make a mistake. Everyone has faced the decision on whether to forgive.
As always, thanks for supporting Strebor Books, where we strive to bring you the most groundbreaking, out-of-the-box literature in today's market. If you would like to contact me directly, feel free to email me at
[email protected]
. You can also find me on Facebook
@AuthorZane
and on Twitter
@planetzane
.
Blessings,
Publisher
Strebor Books
This book is dedicated in loving memory of Lorraine Byrd Lawrence (5/18/1950-10/15/2013), Sister-in-law extraordinaire and a true friend, and to all the people who feel life isn't worth living. It is.
I've wanted to write since I learned to read. Stories transported me from my rural setting in Georgia. Thank you God, Sara, and Zane for making my writing dream possible. Thank you also to Charmaine Parker for keeping me in check and on point.
Special thanks to the early manuscript readers: Darlene Lawrence, Andrea Allen, Kimyatta Walker, Devetrice Conyers-Hinton, and Orsayor Simmons. Your input was invaluable and I truly appreciate you taking the time to give me feedback.
To my family, thanks for putting up with my disappearing acts in the writing cave.
To the industry champions and book ambassadors who continue to coax me out of my shell, thank you for your services and your voices. Keith Saunders, Editor Carla M. Dean, Lasheera Lee, Yolanda L. Gore, Johnathan Royal, Ella Curry, Tiffany Craig, Delonya Conyers, Kim Knight, Teresa Beasley, Readers Paradise, Naptown readers, and all the other book clubs and reviewers who took the time to give me feedback and spread the word about
Dream Girl Awakened.
Victoria Christopher Murray and Renee Swindle: your advice, character interview sheet, and character examination knowledge are making books three and four come to life. Thank you.
To the fellow authors I've met or connected with the past year,
thanks for the laughs, wisdom, and support. Sadeqa Johnson, Trice Hickman, Julia Blues, Adrienne Thompson, Author Saundra, Vanessa Harris, Michael July, Phoenix C. Brown, Donneil Jackson, Cathy Jo G., Alvin L.A. Horn, Karen Quinones-Miller, Shamara Ray, Ben Bennassi, Suzetta Perkins, Audrey Ford, Tracy Cooper, Cherlisa Starks Richardson, Curtis Bunn, Shane Allison, and Shelia Goss. I admire your journey and your words.
Special thanks to the Pike Branch of the Indianapolis Marion County Public Library system for the writing room and quiet space. You make writing enjoyable. A big-shout out to the representative of the National Suicide Hotline who provided me with valuable information, and the Marion County Jail officer who explained standard procedures.
Thank you, Peta Gay Campbell, for being the first reader to reach out to me after publication of my first novel to tell me you enjoyed it. I will treasure your email forever. I appreciate all the readers who've reached out to me and would like to give special thanks to the Atlanta postal workers; my Sparta, Georgia, hometown heroes who attended my first book signing; Sharon Simmons and the patients at Davita Dialysis in Jonesboro, Georgia; and the avid readers who've reached out to me on my website and through Facebook. You keep me going when the words play hide-and-seek. I'm truly grateful that you're taking this journey with me. Stay blessed and take one small step each day toward making your dreams come true. One move makes the difference.
T
oday is a good day to be released from prison,
Tawatha thought. She gathered her duffle bag and wondered what was taking Royce so long to pick her up. She glanced backward at the Indiana Women's Prison, her home for the past five years. She would miss the few friends she'd made, the Wednesday evening Bible study sessions, and the exchanges among the others who were also confined because of bad love choices.
She still wasn't convinced about spirituality and all the things she learned behind bars, but she was sure of one thing: her girlfriend, Jamilah, pulled a ram out of a bush and set her free. Not only was she free, but she'd also gained a certain measure of respect from the other prisonersâeven after killing three of her four children in a house fire.
“Tawatha,” a voice called out behind her.
Tawatha turned to see Faithia Perkins, a trustee and mother of the group. She'd embraced Tawatha from the beginning of her stint and kept the wolves at bay after Tawatha's first beating by the other inmates.
“I almost missed you. CO Morris told me you were leaving. I hopped all the way from the infirmary just to say goodbye.”
“I was hoping I'd see you,” said Tawatha.
“I just wanted to give you a hug and tell you to keep your head
up. I don't want to see you back in this place. You've got a second chance to get it right, and I want you to make good on it.”
I will not cry, I will not cry.
Tawatha opened her arms and let Faithia's embrace soothe her. She would miss the earthy smell of Faithia's skin, the gentleness of her hands when she braided her hair, and all the long talks they had about Faithia's sentence. “I knew saying goodbye to you would be hard. That's why I snuck out.”
“No matter what happens, you have to move on. Don't look back; move forward, Tawatha.”
Before Tawatha could shed a tear, Royce's Mercedes appeared. He smiled when he saw her and dimmed his lights at the sight of Faithia. He pulled alongside the curb.
Faithia watched the handsome, salt-and-pepper gentleman step out of the stylish car. Tawatha had mentioned her former boss would pick her up, but from the look in his eyes, Faithia picked up on more than an employer-to-employee vibe.
“Mr. Hinton, I'm so happy you're here,” said Tawatha. “This is Ms. Faithia Perkins, a prison trustee, and the only reason I survived in this place.”
Royce folded his arms, raised an eyebrow, and gave Tawatha a
tsk-tsk
look.
“Royce,
this is Ms. Faithia Perkins.” Tawatha corrected her formal introduction of Royce's name.
“That's better.” He extended his hand to Faithia.
“I trust you'll take good care of Tawatha. She's special to me. She's come to be like a second daughter.”
“I plan to take the very best care of her.” He took Tawatha's bag, popped the trunk, and placed it among the surprises he'd planned for her. He opened the passenger door as Tawatha eased into the seat, unsure of where they were heading.
She waved to Faithia one last time and looked ahead as Royce drove away from the prison. There was no need to look backâonly forward.
“So, where are we going?” asked Tawatha.
“Well, I figured you'd want to take a shower and perhaps go out to dinner. I remember you loved Olive Garden. I want you to unwind tonight.”
“Did my mother return your calls?”
“She did.” Royce sighed. “She said she's not ready to welcome you into her home right now and asked that you give her some time.”
Tawatha's countenance deflated. “So where am I supposed to go? She didn't write me in prison, and the few times she came to see me, she just stared at me like I was a monster.”
“Calm down. I anticipated this before I picked you up.”
“What about Lasheera?”
“Ditto. Since Lasheera and Lake adopted Aunjanue, they feel your presence will disrupt her life. This is Aunjanue's senior year, and well ⦔ Royce's voice trailed off.
Tawatha sat back in her seat, unable to hide her hurt. She almost wanted him to turn the car around and take her back to prison. She wondered about the kind of life would she have if the people she loved treated her like she didn't exist. Jamilah was the only crew member who still communicated with her and had her back. To everyone else, she was a child-murdering ogress who should have been given the death penalty.
“Is that okay with you?” Royce asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“What did you say?”
“The arrangement to stay at my place for a while. You won't actually be staying with me. There's a carriage house in back of my
property. You're welcome to live there until you get back on your feet. That is the address I gave the corrections system.”
“What about Millicent?”