Authors: Lutishia Lovely

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Literary, #United States, #African American, #Christian, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literary Fiction

Heaven Right Here

Also by Lutishia Lovely

Sex in the Sanctuary
Love Like Hallelujah
A Preacher’s Passion
Heaven Right Here
Reverend Feelgood
Heaven Forbid
All Up In My Business
Mind Your Own Business

Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

H
eaven
R
ight
H
ere

LUTISHIA LOVELY

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

Table of Contents

Also by Lutishia Lovely
Title Page
Dedication
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
1
-
Baby Daddy
2
-
Too Much Drama
3
-
Babies Are Blessings
4
-
Baby-Mama Drama
5
-
Let It Go
6
-
Long Time No See
7
-
Mysterious Ways
8
-
The Devil’s Playground
9
-
Family Feud
10
-
Darius’s Crew
11
-
All These Things
12
-
Delicious Chocolate
13
-
Cheering for God
14
-
Show and Tell
15
-
Still in Love
16
-
Friends for Now
17
-
Church Girl
18
-
Follow the Leader
19
-
Sixteen Will Get You Twenty
20
-
Chocolate Twinkies
21
-
No Ill Will
22
-
Forgiving Ain’t Forgetting
23
-
Dreams
24
-
Grown-Folks Business
25
-
Just Maybe
26
-
True Ecstasy
27
-
LA’s Finest
28
-
Marital Privileges
29
-
Watch Your Man
30
-
Lord, Help Us
31
-
Like Paradise
32
-
No More Tears
33
-
Thank You, Lord
34
-
Watch Your Man II
35
-
Right Now
36
-
The Tea Party
37
-
Life and Death
38
-
Tempt a Godly Man
39
-
Guys and God
40
-
Don’t Get Played
41
-
Why I’m Here
42
-
Baby Mama
43
-
The Glamorous Life
44
-
Party Over Here
45
-
Nothin’ Nice
46
-
There Is a God
47
-
Come Over
48
-
If It Don’t Fit . . .
49
-
She Said You Did
50
-
Believe That
51
-
Take Care
52
-
I’m Okay Now
53
-
House Calls
54
-
It Hurts
55
-
New Friends
56
-
WTF
57
-
The Truth
58
-
Remember That
59
-
Shall We?
60
-
Doctor’s Orders
61
-
Lover of My Soul
62
-
Right Here
63
-
Talk to Me
64
-
Runaway Child
65
-
Good Lovin’
66
-
Another Beat-Down
67
-
Counting Blessings
68
-
A Different Appetite
69
-
The Proverbial Straw
70
-
Push
71
-
Down the Aisle
72
-
The Ladies
Mind Your Own Business
Copyright Page

This book is dedicated to everyone who believes they can experience heaven . . . right here, right now.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I thank Spirit, the connecting force in all of us.

As always, a huge thank-you to Selena James and the entire Kensington crew, my agent Natasha Kern, and all of the fellow writers who help make this a journey where one can always expect the glorious unexpected.

In addition to Kensington’s Adeola Saul, I am happy to have the support of publicist Ella Curry, whose company, EDC Creations, and the BAN Network Internet radio show are vehicles through which writers thrive. And to Debra Owsley, your Simply Said reader aids are simply wonderful. These products are excellent additions to the writer’s arsenal of promotional and marketing materials. My readers love them, and so do I.

A special
I love you
to Pat G’Orge-Walker and Naleighna Kai. Good looking out, ladies! I also want to give a thumbs-up to West Coast Biz, a hardworking up-and-coming writer who in his own words knows how to “push a pen.” I agree—your street lit drama kept me turning the pages, and I look forward to future works.

To all of the book clubs, Internet radio shows, and bookstore owners—especially the independent Black bookstores, which sadly are too few and are growing fewer. You were there for the African-American writer from day one, and I pay homage to your tenacity, strength, and courage in the face of a changing global marketplace.

I am continually amazed at the power of the reader in spreading the word about this series, whether it be within an organized format such as a book club, reviewers who take the time to post their comments on Amazon or other Web sites, or individuals who make my cause their own by telling all their friends and family about what they’ve just read. This word-of-mouth sharing is truly love in action, and I feel it. Your thoughtfulness and active participation propel me as, with your help, I continue to write and grow as an artist. I couldn’t do it without you . . . and I am very grateful.

Now, sit back, turn the page, and indulge yourself in a little
Heaven Right Here
.

Baby Daddy

Stacy Gray, Hope Taylor, and Frieda Moore sat enjoying the breeze coming off the Pacific Ocean. Stacy’s son, eighteen-month-old Darius Crenshaw Jr. sat cooing and clapping in his high chair, obviously enjoying the early November weather as well. Stacy and Hope belonged to the same church and saw each other almost every week. Hope and Frieda were cousins. But it was the first time in months that all three of these thirtysomething ladies had hung out together. The good food and great conversation was just what the doctor ordered.

“I don’t care about what she did—I love
Conversations with Carla
. That sistah keeps it real!” Frieda jabbed a fry in the air for emphasis.

“I like her too,” Hope said. “I’m just saying it’s amazing how someone who fell so low could rise again so quickly.”

“I’m with Frieda,” Stacy added, taking a napkin and wiping mashed potato from her son’s face. “She did wrong, and she was punished. She lost her husband, her ministry, dignity, respect. No one on the outside looking in will ever truly know how much her present success cost her.”

Minister Carla Lee Chapman had paid dearly for the scandal she had endured a year and a half ago. A secretive, short-term affair with a church associate had become very public via a cuddly, late-night photo and tell-all article in
LA Gospel
, a Los Angeles–based magazine targeting the Black church community. Her husband had promptly divorced her and married the woman who had revealed Carla’s secret. Carla’s base of Christian women supporters—that had once numbered in the hundreds of thousands—dropped to four figures, and all but a handful of Christian bookstores pulled her DVDs. But now, less than six months after her nationally syndicated television show debuted, Carla was attracting a following that promised to eclipse that of her former popularity—a new popularity that included women of every race, religion, and socioeconomic status. Her Dr. Phil–style directness and Oprah-like warmth, combined with her religious sensibilities and Southern charm, had endeared her to the masses. Fortunately for both her and the MLM Network, her scandal and shame had garnered sympathy from the secular public. They embraced the contrite woman whom the religious community had ousted. The show’s sky-high ratings were her final vindication.

“Did you see the girl on there the other day?” Frieda asked. “The sixteen-year-old who already had two kids? I wasn’t expecting Carla to get with girlfriend like she did, but telling that little sistah to put a closed sign on the punany was real talk!”

“She said that?” Hope exclaimed.

“Pu–na–nny. On national TV. That’s why women love her.”

“What did the girl do?”

“Boohooed and then promised Carla she’d put her stuff on lock and focus on taking care of her kids.”

“What I liked,” Stacy interjected, “is that Carla offered to be her personal mentor—that she cared enough to get involved with a guest like that.”

Stacy and Frieda kept talking, but Hope didn’t hear. Idly twirling a strand of jet-black, shoulder-length hair, she tried to stave off the wave of depression that often accompanied any talk about babies. She and her husband, Cy (pronounced like the
sigh
his fine frame evoked from most women), had been trying for almost two years to get pregnant. She’d gone to several doctors and gotten mixed diagnoses: one said she was fine, another that her uterus was tilted, and a third said something about low-producing ovaries. Her first lady at church, Vivian Montgomery, had told her she just needed to relax and stop
trying
to get pregnant. But Hope had just turned thirty. She and Cy wanted at least two children. It was time to make it happen.

“I know one thing,” Stacy was saying when Hope finally began to listen again. “If Darius thinks he’s going to force me to have my son stay in that den of sin he and Bo call home, he’d better think again.”

“But he the daddy, girl,” Frieda reasoned. “Let that boy get to know his father and his ‘uncle,’” she said with a wink, referring to Darius’s lover, Bo Jenkins.

“You can’t keep the boy away from his father,” Hope agreed. “A child needs both parents.”

“Yeah, well, his
father
should have thought about that before he chose Bo over me!”

Stacy flung her black, sixteen-inch Indian Remy weave away from her face so hard the hair slapped the face of the man sitting at the table behind her. He turned and glared, but Stacy didn’t notice. She was too busy looking at yesterday.

Time had not dimmed her resentment at the way Darius had chosen to end his bigamous ways—to remain in the civil union with his male lover and have his marriage to Stacy annulled. It hadn’t helped matters that his subsequent coming out hadn’t received the backlash she’d hoped it would. Granted, it had generated all types of controversy in religious circles, and he wasn’t getting many requests to play in churches, but his concerts were selling out, and his attempt to cross over from gospel into R & B was proving successful.

“Having a child is a blessing, Stacy,” Hope said softly. “Don’t miss out on the joy of it by holding on to anger. I’d do anything to have a baby right now.”

Just then they were interrupted by a well-dressed man stepping up to their table. “Stacy Gray?” he asked, looking from one woman to the other.

“I’m Stacy.”

“This is for you.” He handed her a large envelope. “You’ve been served,” he added brusquely and quickly walked away.

“What the . . .” Instead of finishing the sentence, Stacy put down her drink and tore open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the papers quickly.

“Oh, my God, I don’t believe this crap. He cannot possibly have this kind of nerve.” She flipped through the pages quickly before throwing the document on the table. “He’s out of his ever-loving—”

“Calm down, Stacy,” Hope interrupted, putting her hand on the woman about to go postal. “What is it?”

“It’s Darius, acting like the asshole he is,” Stacy responded, her eyes welling with tears. “That fool is taking me to court. He’s suing me for full custody of my child!”

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