Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off: BIRD'S EYE VIEW by TK Ray #fiction #family

  

A tragic saga of deception and devastation of one family with different truths…

by TK Ray

Title: BIRDS EYE VIEW
Author: T.K. Ray
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 103
Genre: Fiction/Family

BOOK BLURB:

A Bird’s Eye View is a twisted tale of deception with acts of love overshadowed by the pains of a trouble teen. As traces of laughter and love are left amongst the whispers of chilling prayers, this once tight knit family faces a rollercoaster of emotions and a call to heal. This blindsided attack leaves the family devastated and takes this family on a journey none of them could prepare for.

“If you are looking for an edge of your seat, what happens next, I can’t stop reading book, well STOP & LOOK NO FURTHER. This is exactly the book you are looking for. As you are reading you will be able to vividly paint a picture as you turn the pages, diving deeper and deeper into the story. It’s so good you could read it over and still have the excitement as if it were the first time. Trust me, you won’t be disappointed.” – AMAZON READER/REVIEWER

“This book was a great read! The family dynamic in this book took me through all kinds of emotions that families have! The writing was amazing and very descriptive! Highly recommend it!” – AMAZON READER/REVIEWER

“What an amazing read. I love the short chapters because I have a hard time putting a book down in the middle of a chapter. Very easy to read and such an amazing story. WOW….Very well written and easy to follow. I hope there is a 2nd book soon. You can tell that the author poured her heart out and really wanted to capture the reader. I recommend this book 100000%.” – AMAZON READER/REVIEWER

Chapter 8: Revelations 21:4

CARA

“911, what’s your emergency?”

As she dialed her sister’s number from the landline, faint screams in the background caused Tammy to struggle to hear the operator.

“Mom is throwing up! I don't know what is going on. I called the ambulance for her. Her arm is waving wildly in the air. I don't know what to do!”

Mirabel held tight to a deepened exhale within her. She sat there in silence, praying hard within her subconscious. She slowly dialed her daughter's cell only to be greeted with her cheery voicemail repeatedly. “Hey, hey. You've reached —” Click.

She dialed again. This time, her fingers moved independently of her mind.

“Hey, hey —” Click.

Frustrated and anxious, Mirabel shouted upstairs for her sleeping husband. Tiny hands and feet came trickling into her home daycare, ready for what they expected to be another fun-filled day with Ms. Mirabel.

Tammy, still frantic on the phone with the 911 operator, began to tell her the events of the morning.

“No, she didn't sleep much last night.”

“I’m not sure.”

Sharon faded in and out of consciousness. She looked to Tammy with a look of despair in her eyes. Tammy, the youngest, and Sharon shared her a tiny two-bedroom apartment that was located down the street from Mirabel. The apartment suddenly felt vast and foreign.

While on the phone with the operator, Tammy grabbed a few essential items to take to the hospital. She shoved the sadness down deep within her as she packed Mom's bag with uncertainty filing its brim.

“She just started throwing up as I was getting ready for work and complained of her right arm hurting…”

“Ma'am, I've called the ambulance. They should be there shortly.” The operator phoned in dispatch, “We have an African American female. Sixty years old. Possible cardiac arrest.”

And just like that, Tammy’s ears fell deaf, and she dropped the phone as first responders rushed passed her to revive her ailing mother. Then they all went off to the local hospital.

Back at Mirabel's home, the children played quietly while the phone rang off the hook. Mirabel, who is unable to focus fully and unable to reach her daughter, began calling her daycare parents to notify them of a pending family emergency.

Tiffany awoke from a drunken night of irresponsibility to her phone vibrating under her pillow. As she attempted to accept the call, her phone died.

 She’d spent the night at a friend's and slept right through the eight calls from home. 

What the hell happened?!

Tiffany jumped up, rushing out of her drunken slumber. As she peered out the window, she noticed birds chirping and the sun peeking over the fence in what looked to be a beautiful day ahead. Tiffany gathered her items and hurried out the door into her car to charge her phone. She called her mom as she zoomed up the highway, not knowing what to expect when she arrived.

“Hey, Mom —”

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?!” interrupted Mirabel.

“I was sleep! What’s going on?” Both of them frantic. Both unable to fully uncover the very real elephant in the car, in the room, on the phone.

What the hell happened?!

“They rushed Grandma to the hospital.” Silence ensued.

“I’m on the way.”

They both hung up and sent up the same prayers.

Speeding up the highway, Tiffany began to draw inward. How could she be so stupid to be in a drunken slumber as her precious granny was being rushed to the hospital? A thought flashed into her head. Granny had left her a voicemail a few days ago, but she hadn't had time to return her call or stop by.

“Hey, Sweet Pea. It’s Grandma. I made you some ribs. I know they are your favorite. Let me know if you can stop by. Remember, Grandma loves you. Don't forget me.”

And the tears fell uncontrollably, unmasked, and ugly. The tears fell because Tiffany knew deep down what she might not have wanted to admit at the time. And so the tears continued to fall.

What the hell happened?!

By the time she made her way home, Tiffany had managed to dry her eyes and look somewhat presentable. She could show up and be a rock for her mother.

Mirabel opened the door, and the look on her face was unforgettable. Her mother's face was frantic. It was the face of a mother unsure of how to live without her own mother. It was a face full of fears hidden by the tears that continued to fall. They embraced one another. As the last of the daycare children left, Mirabel, Farrell, and Tiffany made their way to the local hospital where they would meet Tammy and await their fate.

Tiffany made calls to work while grabbing a cup of coffee to awaken her own dying spirit somewhat. Ugh, must give up vodka. She phoned work to let her boss and staff know that there was a pending emergency with family, and she wasn't sure if and when she'd be in.

At the hospital, they made their way to the fourth floor, Cardiac unit. Nurses flashed by. Doctors answered pages. They stood there, unaware of what those elevator doors would reveal.

They sat in the family waiting room, quietly updating family members and responding to texts. They were so unnecessarily busy to keep from the pending thoughts of doom ahead.

Dr. Jeffries was the presiding doctor that morning. He approached the family with eagerness and delivered the news many hoped would be positive.

“Your mom is a very sick lady. She had a massive heart attack. Her heart is only working at about twenty percent on its own right now. We put in a stent; however, it's only a temporary fix. With her being a Jehovah's Witness and not taking blood, our options are limited. We have her sedated right now, and you can see her once we move her to ICU, which should be within the hour.”

As the news penetrated each eardrum in that small space, the weakening of knees soon followed. Tiffany watched her mother go weak as Farrell attempted to hold her up. Tammy fell into Aunt Sally as she tried to walk away, only finding stability and comfort against a wall. Tiffany walked away. Stark in her spirit, she walked towards an abandoned corner and let out her fears and tears. Her wail seemed to instinctively break her own heart right there in the Cardiac unit, go figure.

Back in the family waiting room, Mirabel, Tammy, Tiffany, and Farrell sat waiting. Everything was uncomfortably still. The news on in the background, nurses and hospital personnel rushed by as the elevator opened, and what they all saw could never be forgotten.

Sharon’s body nearly lifeless strapped to the hospital bed. A protruding belly and IV lines tracing the perimeter of her sweet face. Beeps and buzzing of heart monitors disrupted the silence in their hearts. In and out her inhale and exhale assisted, tubes running down her throat, eyes closed seemingly dreaming of a better day.

The family watched their mother and grandmother be carted away up to ICU, where they would soon follow. All of them sat in stillness as the sting of being in the hospital for a loved one continued to pierce.

“Here. Tiffany, you need to eat something.” Mirabel said while handing Tiffany a pack of vending machine graham crackers.

“No thanks, Mom. You go ahead and eat it.” Tiffany, pushed the graham crackers back towards her mother.

“No! You need to eat something. Here!” Mirabel shoved it back to Tiffany, as she held a lost look of a mother trying to comfort her daughter when she needed comforting herself.

“MOM, I DON'T WANT IT!!!” and everyone in the family waiting room started laughing. Laughter was our thing, and Tiffany smiled at her mother with content.

It was nothing but a mother feeling helpless in her role as a daughter. The only way to combat that was for her to feed and console her own. Here's the thing, the laughter is what satisfied Tiffany's soul the most. It had nothing to do with that stale graham cracker. Laughter in her family was familiar, it was comforting and meant that no matter what, we would see this through and keep our spirits light as we go, at least that’s what she thought.

Approaching the family, now in full cackle and banter, Dr. Jeffries and his nurse came into the waiting room. They gave the family the green light to see Sharon.

As they transported her up to ICU, the pain of what they were witnessing started to set in. Dr. Jeffries made it clear that she probably should have died during that attack, another sunken feeling of defeat. As she arrived in ICU, the family followed suit forming a line of love to see their ailing mother and grandmother. Her eyes flickered open and closed, and she tried to make sense of her new view. Unable to fully speak, a teardrop formed at the corner of her eye and like a worn levy gave way to her sadness. Scared and unaware of what was coming next, Sharon closed her eyes and prayed to her God. The family filed in attempting to display a strength they only got from her.

Through all the excitement and sedation, Sharon found the strength to speak to her loved ones. “Make sure they know I am a Witness and don't take blood.” Holding Tammy's hand, Tammy and Mirabel reassured her that it's in her chart, and everyone working on her case will be made aware.

“I had a heart attack? They said I had a heart attack? I — I just can’t believe it.” Sharon whispered in complete disbelief and shock.

Mirabel stroked her hair, “You did, Mom. Dr. Jeffries is going to take great care of you. In the meantime, try to rest. We'll come and check on you tonight. Aunt Sally is talking to the nurses to make sure they are aware of your case. Don't worry. You're in good hands, Mom.”

Sharon drifted off to sleep. The family filed out of the room and back into the waiting room, where they dried their eyes and prepared for whatever was coming next.

That night Sharon slept somewhat peacefully as the beeps and buzzing persisted and penetrated even in her dreams. That night she dreamt of the new system. A faint smile quivered on her lips as she dreamed of green grasses, feeding the elephants, living amongst the land, no pain, no sadness, and pure tranquility. She drifted off to sleep, reciting the lines silently to one of her most teachable scriptures. Revelations, the power of God's will, was seen there through passages emphasizing his beautiful work. For the first time in weeks, she was able to sleep peacefully.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelations 21:4.”

A month had passed since Sharon's initial attack. I, on the other hand, had made great strides with the chemotherapy rounds. My hair was completely gone; Bald as an eagle. I didn’t mind because my nieces and daughters continued to make me feel beautiful as I went through this process of unveiling. One of my nieces did those fancy eyelash extensions once when I was hospitalized a few weeks ago. Gosh, I felt so beautiful that day! I wore a wig from time to time; A short one with a bang that fed into my sunken cheeks. I walked with a walker now. Since the cancer had metastasized to my bones, I had to have rods placed in both femurs to prevent a total break of the hip. So I'd gotten really acquainted with said walker. I visited Sharon when I was able to; When my levels were at a decent range to tolerate the germ-infested walls of the Intensive Care Unit. Go figure, and I thought I would find myself here for an extended stay rather than visiting my eldest sister with our mother in tow.

Another week went by. The doctors were now at the point of removing the balloon that was inserted into Sharon's heart. They explained to the family that for someone as sick as my big sister, this was a temporary fix in preparation for open-heart surgery. Because she was a Witness and couldn’t take blood, the options were severely limited. They were running out of time. They explained that once the balloon is removed, there was a high chance of her passing shortly after.

Moments before her surgery, the family filed in one by one meeting Sharon at her bedside with warm smiles and aching hearts to send their love and well wishes. She laughed and joked as if she were in the hospital for a routine checkup and not to check out ultimately. Elders from her congregation made their way to read their scriptures. They facilitated Sharon in finding a level of peace that could only be brought on by none other than the Holy Spirit.

Mirabel, Tammy, and Tiffany entered her room shortly before she was carted off and prayed with her. Unsure of what was next, each of them took what they could from the moment. They tried to be as strong as possible for her.

Her hands quivered in fear, a fear she hid from the rest of her visitors. Sharon spoke to her girls, “This might be it for me, ladies. If anything, I really want you to get to know Jehovah, our God.”

Mirabel's eyes met Tiffany's and Tiffany's to Tammy and back to Sharon as she worked to hide the affliction on her face while fidgeting with her signature red nails.  “He's done some beautiful things. I want you guys to know all about him and his amazing works. I want to see you in the new system. I gotta have my girls with me in the new system.” She smiled, fighting back the tears.

That was the first time since her initial heart attack that the three of them felt the panic in her already breaking heart. Tears fell from each of their eyes. She quickly instructed them not to cry, be strong, and be like she raised them to be — fearless in the face of adversity because God was on their side. And like she always told them, “I didn't raise no weak women.”

Everyone waited patiently for the procedure to commence. The surgeon gave notice that her heart could possibly give way in the next days. Sharon continued to laugh and joke and was extremely vocal with nurses and hospital staff just minutes after the surgery. A medical marvel yet again. With a heart working at only fifteen to twenty percent, Sharon was supposed to be in critical condition, unable to speak, let alone laugh and joke.

Growing a little more stir crazy as the hours passed, Sharon was adamant about getting someone to smuggle food onto the ICU floor. She phoned Tiffany and requested a Slurpee. Tiffany declined. Sharon called Mirabel, but before she could even get her request out, Mirabel informed her that she was unable to bring her any food. Sharon, with an attitude, hung up the phone.

Sharon then phoned her son-in-law Farrell. She was sure he would do it. He always went above and beyond for everyone in the family, so she called him and put her request in for a Dairy Queen ice cream sundae with sprinkles and whipped cream. “I'm sorry, Mom. I can't do that. You know the situation. I'm sorry, Mom.”

CLICK. That was Sharon; She wanted what she wanted when she wanted. Unfortunately, this was not a fight she would win with her family.

Sharon's prognosis worsened after getting the report from her surgeon about the state of her aching heart. Arrangements were made to move her to hospice care (up a few floors in the hospital) until the family could decide what was next. As the chosen ones to make the final decisions, Tammy and Aunt Sally agreed on a charming hospice home not too far from the hospital. Sharon would go there in a few days when a bed was available.

The family then decided that they would allow Sharon to have what would become her last meal. Her request: lobster tail and an ice cream sundae. The family obliged, and Sharon had a last meal of her favorite comfort foods as hospice arrangements were being made.

Mirabel's birthday was fast approaching, and she had plans to have a big fortieth birthday bash. However, given the circumstances, she was unable to get into the birthday spirit fully.

Friends and family came together to celebrate her while silently wondering if these would, in fact, be Sharon’s last days. Family arrived for a night of fun at the Davis home. They hosted a pajama jammy jam to bring everyone together to laugh a little and enjoy these quick moments of respite from dealing with doctors, nurses, phone calls, etc.

Everyone just needed a break, and I, for one, needed to just see my family in good spirits again. We got together for a family game night and pot luck. Everyone came dressed in their favorite jammies. We played games, laughed, ate way too much, and for a moment, let the sadness slip away.

We played the Wii game, Michael Jackson I think it was. I watched my girls, my nieces, and nephews let loose in a fashion that had been prevented given the recent lemons life so graciously provided.

 The next morning, bright and early, Mirabel was frightened out of her sleep from a phone call from the hospital. This time it was from Sharon's hospital room.

“Hello, Mom. Is everything okay?”

“I'm scared, Mirabel.” Her voice was drowned out by the constant beeps and buzzing of her monitors.

“I know, Mom. But, you're going to be okay. You're going to be transported to the hospice house later this evening, and we'll come down to get you set up and situated so you are comfortable, okay?”

“Okay. I'm terrified, Mirabel. Please come down here soon.”

“Okay, Mom. We'll be down soon.”

Mirabel hung up the phone and prayed. This entire time she was only able to hold herself together because of her mother’s strength and tenacity. Today she heard something different in the quiver of her voice. Mirabel's mother was approaching the end of her life. Sharon was frightened to the point of needing to hear her eldest daughter's voice for reassurance.

That evening Sharon was transported via medical transfer to the hospice home where she would be made comfortable. It was a cozy home in a lovely quaint neighborhood not too far from the beach. Sharon's hospice home was one just like any other home with four bedrooms. Each room was equipped with a hospital bed, small sofa, television unit, and a window or sliding glass door.

The home smelled of lavender and lemongrass; Calming and suitable aromas to satisfy the nerves of those entering and ultimately exiting. There was a kitchen where home-cooked meals were prepared and a common area with artworks of serene landscapes. It was a beautiful home with a staff that prided themselves on exceptional bedside manner and a level of compassion comparable to angels themselves.

The family arrived in the late afternoon. By this time, Sharon was unresponsive and nearly comatose. The family was told she was aggressive, slightly insulting, and combative upon transfer. So, she was administered Ativan to ‘relax’ her during her transition into the hospice home, and well, you know the rest.

“Wow, this place is really nice. I am so glad we decided on this rather than bringing her home. That would've been way too difficult to handle.” Mirabel said as she walked through the room, making sure things were in tip-top shape for her mother.

“I wish she could see it. She would be so happy to be out of that hospital finally!” Tiffany said, followed by a nervous laugh. Tiffany had already decided she was going to spend that evening with her beloved grandma. She’d vowed to stay as long as possible to make sure she was comfortable in the days to follow.

It was the evening of May 22. Tiffany made herself comfortable on the small sofa, which was situated just to the left of the hospital bed. Her grandmother lay in peaceful slumber in her favorite nightgown and pink bonnet. They spent the evening scrolling the TV as Tiffany continued to speak to her in standard nature. As the sun began to set, Tiffany went into her duffle bag where she’d packed her Nikon camera, Johnson's baby lotion, and her journal for the evening. Sharon loved Johnson's baby lotion even at sixty years old. That was her go-to after shower moisturizer. Tiffany brought her journal to capture her emotions as they spent this time together. She brought her camera to capture what could be her last photos. Everything became so surreal.

Tiffany pulled back the blanket to her grandmother's hospital bed and revealed her weeping extremities. She pulled out the pink Johnsons baby lotion and squeezed a dime-sized amount into her hands. She began to effleurage up her grandmother's calves, around her knee, circling down around the ankle. She made swift strokes around the feet, through her toes that were painted the color of love. Tiffany massaged her way up to her arms and poured her way up, circling her grandmother’s elbow. She noticed the moisture in her skin, its elasticity, and luster. She continued to massage past the veins of her arm and beyond the bend in her flesh. She softly pushed her way up to her shoulder and spilled on to her chest and back down, dividing amongst her fingers. She gently caressed each finger, studying her nails in their natural state, painted red with joy, long and beautiful.  She worked her way across her chest, making peace with the gold chains around her neck. The simple gold chain was the second half of a best friend necklace. She began to sing. She sang a song that came so natural, one that she never sang before but felt compelled to sing it to her grandmother in her passing days, one that she once sang to her as a little girl.

 

Summertime and the livin’ is easy,

Fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high,

Oh, your daddy is rich and your ma is good lookin’,

So hush little baby don’t you cry.

 

Sharon opened her eyes almost as if to say a quick ‘thank you. I love you’ to Tiffany. Then,  she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Tiffany continued to sing and massage her favorite lotion into her skin.

The hours passed, and the day transitioned into dusk. Sharon continued her slumber as Tiffany watched her intently praying, finding peace, and reminiscing on their lives together.

Early the next morning, nurses and hospice staff came in. They asked Tiffany to step out while they cleaned and changed Sharon. At this time, her breathing was slightly labored yet productive; however, she was still unresponsive. Tiffany stepped out of the room as her phone rang.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, babe. How are you? How’s she doing?”

“She opened her eyes briefly for me. I don't think she was really there, there, but it was nice!”

Mirabel could hear the tears swelling up behind her smile.

“The nurses called late last night and said that she is actively transitioning and they don’t want you there alone. Why don’t you come home and we’ll go back together this afternoon?”

“No, I'm not leaving her alone.” Tiffany growing in frustration, paced the living room area of the hospice home.

“Come on, babe. Do this for me. I don't want you there alone, either. Besides, Tammy is going down there soon so she won't be alone. Come on, babe.”

“Tammy is coming?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, fine. I'll go into work for a bit and leave around twelve and meet her down there.”

“Okay, sounds good. I love you. Drive safe.”

“Love you too, Mom.”

Tiffany went back into the room to gather her items. She snapped a few pictures of her beloved before kissing her softly on her cheek. “I love you, Granny. Always and forever,” whispered Tiffany before making her way through the home. As Tiffany made her way through the house, she found herself taking in its sights and smells as she exited the door to her car and off to work.

She arrived around 9:30 am to a desk piled with work and coworkers who gave her the space she needed to just to be. One by one, she was greeted with a soft embrace and warm condolences as no one really knew what to say. Tiffany was the youngest in this small office of women. Right now, they were the moms and aunts she needed to survive the hours to come.

Two hours passed. Tiffany instinctively checked her phone every five minutes for updates and to respond to texts and well wishes. Her phone rang, and it was her mother.

“Hey, Mom.” Tiffany's heart raced. She pushed her chair back to step away from her desk for another quick break.

“Hey. Tammy is there with Aunt Ann and Zora. The Elders are going to come to pray with her. They say it’s going to be soon.” She did it. Maribel got through the words on her very first call about her dying mother.

“Okay. I'm leaving work and heading down there. I'll call you when I get there.”

“Okay, babe. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

This time it felt just a little stronger. The love, the intent, the meaning held each of them together just a moment longer.

When Tiffany arrived, she was greeted by Aunt Tammy, Zora, a family friend, Aunt Ann, another sister of Sharon's, and three elders from Sharon’s congregation. The Elders were there to pray over her grandmother in her last moments. What a sight to see. Never in a million years did Tiffany ever imagine herself in this moment.

They all sat around her bedside, staring at the muted television. Tiffany scanned the room and noticed no one was watching the TV; just a room full of low gazes over the screen nearly hypnotized by the bitterness of this harsh reality.

Sharon's breathing became more and more labored. She struggled and gasped for each breath as if she was still holding on to the possibility of life — of true healing. A wave of silence swept the room as each space between her breaths became more substantial, more real. 

Tiffany attempted to use the restroom a few times but was unsuccessful as other families were visiting and there were only two bathrooms to accommodate. She tried again anyway. She met Aunt Ann in the hallway, and they waited for the restroom together. They consoled each other and shared quick stories about their beloved grandmother and big sister. They sat on the ledge of the window in the dining area. They waited what seemed like fifteen minutes, where they shared in a few laughs and admired how beautiful the home was. Sharon would have been proud there.

Zora came out into the lobby and made eyes with Tiffany and Aunt Ann. Then, without saying a word, she nodded her head, blinked her eyes, and subtly summoned the two of them to the room. That was it. Sharon passed away at 1:39 pm on a Monday in May.

Tiffany could not bring herself to enter the room, but she had to get her phone. She had to call her mom. She walked in and placed her hand near her head, blocking her grandmother from her eyesight. She reached for her bag and glanced quickly at her beloved. Tiffany bid her sweet dreams and made her way out of the home and down the street.

She tried so hard to contain it, but Tiffany had the breakdown that had been looming over her shoulder for months. She walked down the road into a cull de sac trying to make sense of the moment they'd been anticipating for months. Nothing could quite prepare her for the depth of pain that she finally was forced to surrender to.

She was met shortly after by Cousin Marshall, who was visiting in from New York for Mirabel's birthday festivities. Marshall caught Tiffany on her way down and met her with a warm embrace. He held on to his baby cousin for as long as it was necessary to shield her from the pain ahead.

Sharon's death was a hard blow for everyone because Sharon hadn't been sick on that level. At least that's what everyone thought. Tiffany didn't know what to do with herself at this point. She had spent the last three months practically living on the third floor of the hospital. She knew the Intensive Care Unit staff, and their shift start and end times. Tiffany knew what time they came to reposition her grandmother, and even when her next medicine dose was due. She was right there for every minute of it. She lived on hospital coffee, hot Cheetos from the vending machine, and fast food delights from when friends would visit. She set up an area complete with her pillow, blanket, and laptop so she could do homework. She was attending her last set of classes at the local college before transferring. She was a busy young lady but made it her responsibility to be there for her grandmother every step of the way. Today she was relieved of her duties. The family decided to meet over Grandma Bella's home to discuss arrangements.

Her funeral would be a week later. Sharon's service would take place at her local Kingdom Hall, where family and friends would gather to pay their respects to the family. She would be cremated as this was her choice, and ashes would be split between her daughters. The repast took place at Mirabel's home, where most family and friends attended. The Witnesses from Sharon's congregation planned a separate repast. Tammy and Mirabel attended to express their gratitude for the outpour of love they received for their mother, a Witness of nearly thirty years.

Back at Mirabel's home, family and friends gathered to enjoy an evening of celebration in honor of Sharon. A close family friend of Tiffany’s offered her voice as a gift to the family. She sang Sharon’s favorite song by her favorite artist: Etta James’ At Last.

 

At last, my love has come along,

My Lonely days are over, and life is like a song, oh yeah,

At last, the skies above are blue,

My heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you,

I found a dream that I can speak to,

A dream that I can call my own,

I found a thrill to press my cheek to,

A thrill that I’ve never known,

You smiled and then the spell was cast,

And here we are in Heaven,

For you are mine at last.

 

Not a dry eye in sight. The lyrics of the melody were the perfect send-off for a soul ready to be reunited with the love of her life. Mirabel and Tammy’s father had preceded her in death many years before. We all believed her heart never fully recovered from that. That day they met again, at last.

 

“Write what hurts and watch it heal.” That is the mantra that has empowered the imagination and willpower to tell her story for upcoming Author, TK Ray. Using colorful language and descriptive tone, Tk provides a safe space to unpack a beautiful and twisted tale based on a true story of real family dynamics.

TK Ray was born in San Diego, California to a fifteen-year-old mother and fourteen-year-old father in the late eighties. Born to two young teens, TK found herself tainted by the statistics of becoming a teen mother herself. She found solace in the world of literature as her own private journals became her voice when shyness took over.  She began to understand the world in more intuitive way and birthed that intuition into an imagination that has fueled much of her writing. Much of her writing is personal however as the years have gone by, have included poetry, music, obituaries, blog posts and now literature.

TK is a certified Holistic Health Practitioner and practicing Massage Therapist in southern California. She fuses her knowledge in holistic health with that of her knowledge of her bachelor’s degree in health science to better serve her community in wellness and education. Her wellness blog embodies all of who she is as she has expanded on her writing style to help others follow their passion, peace and purpose. Tk’s writing style is sure to leave you on the edge of your seat as she paints a portrait of pain drawn out by the light in her own fighting spirit.

WEBSITE | FACEBOOK

Sponsored By:

⭐Pump Up Your Book Virtual Book Tour Kick Off⭐Blue Haven by Lisa King @kingerlisa #BlueHaven #sciencefiction

 

Blue Haven is a science-fiction thriller that explores what innovation can achieve—and destroy—despite the best intentions. King’s imaginative world-building and use of moral ambiguity make this page-turning novel a thought-provoking thrill that’s impossible to put down…

By Lisa King

Welcome to Blue Haven, the world’s most lucrative condo corporation—so exclusive that only five lucky residents live in this lush, tropical paradise, housed in a top-secret location.

Among them is twenty-five-year-old Aloe Malone, an introvert and former waitress who traded bussing tables for lengthy sleep-ins, ocean dips, Michelin-star restaurants, spectacular sunsets, and unlikely new friends—all thanks to a spurious lottery win.

Life’s good.

Damn good.

That is, until Aloe discovers a journal.

Seemingly left by a past resident named Eloise whose entries are both sad and evoking, Aloe quickly suspects there’s more to Blue Haven than meets the eye.

Her suspicions are confirmed when visions arise, gruesome hallucinations she can’t understand, followed by a strange yet familiar man lurking in places he shouldn’t. Something’s wrong. Or maybe it’s all in her head. Regardless, she vows to uncover the truth.

Except someone wants to keep her quiet, and it’s the last person she ever suspected.

Blue Haven is a science-fiction thriller that explores what innovation can achieve—and destroy—despite the best intentions. King’s imaginative world building and use of moral ambiguity make this page-turning novel a thought-provoking thrill that’s impossible to put down.

Book Information

Release Date: May 31, 2022

Publisher:  The Story Plant

Soft Cover: ISBN: 978-1611883206; 336 pages; $26.95; E-Book, $7.49

Book Trailer https://youtu.be/DgnqxcZLRcg

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3LVsZB0

Barnes & Noble: https://bit.ly/3waPpHv  

Indigo: https://bit.ly/3MWRayO

IndieBound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781611883206

Book Depository: https://bit.ly/3kNK4kk

Day One

​

Less than twenty-four hours earlier, Aloe Malone was sitting on a tattered couch, a distinct eagerness coursing through her veins. She shivered; her radiator was on the fritz again, sputtering from one side, cackling, rendering her tiny bachelor apartment bone-cold uncomfortable. She curled into a sweater, still freezing, slowly succumbing to the chronic, aggravating chill.

 

And then she laughed, her breath puffy with condensation. She’d worked her last shift at the diner, and said her meager and limited goodbyes—except the one owed to her crummy apartment.

“Sayonara, shithole,” she whispered under her breath.

Now, she squinted into the radiant sun: hot but not fierce, a tempered warmth that was perfect and satisfying. She pressed her feet into the fairy dust sand and gave her toes a wiggle. She’d never felt sand like this before: white, delicate, possibly otherworldly, like it’d been manufactured in a laboratory or harvested from another universe. Like someone had broken one million hourglasses to populate this beach.

She turned to her personal concierge, Amir. “Is this … real sand?”

Surely, it couldn’t be.

He nodded. “Real indeed. One of the many reasons we chose this location.”

This location: a mysterious venue somewhere on planet Earth. She’d love to know the actual coordinates and considered asking (for the third time) but confidentiality was part of the deal. If you wanted to live in the world’s most lucrative beachfront community, secrecy was paramount.

​

Still, she dug her toes deeper into the cushy grains. What part of the world produces sand like this? Aruba? Somewhere in South Asia? The Philippines?
 

She stared skeptically at Amir. His natural tan and dark features were clearly exotic. And his name, Amir. Was that Arabic?
 

“Aloe?” He touched her arm. “Are you feeling okay? You look a bit dazed.”
 

Her mind floated back. “Yeah, sorry. Still a little groggy.”
 

“That’s a very common side effect,” he replied. “Rest assured, you’ll be back to normal in a few hours at most.”
 

She nodded, somewhat attuned to the aftermath of drugs slugging through her arteries. The whole “going under” aspect had been daunting: a white mask, followed by slow, deep inhalations; counting down from ten, as requested; waking somewhere new and unknown— though it made good, logical sense. How else were people supposed to fly to a top-secret paradise without discovering its whereabouts?

Besides, look at this fucking view. The oceanfront, steps away, was a prism of blue light. Turquoise lapped at the shoreline, fading to a sumptuous cerulean. The sky was a lovely robin’s egg, swept with long, lazy clouds. Her eyes found the horizon. There was nothing in the distance, no islands, shorelines, or glimpses. Just pure, unadulterated space.
 

Aloe turned to the billowing palm trees swaying in her periphery. Not an imposing number, just enough to provide a calculated amount of shade. Unlike other beaches she’d visited, Blue Haven’s was devoid of human life; and that, was its true appeal. No sandcastles or shoddily impaled umbrellas or squawking birds begging for scraps of potato chips. Blue Haven was a stock-grade computer background that didn’t exist in real life—except it did, to her absolute astonishment.
 

“Paradise,” she looked at Amir and smiled. “Y’all weren’t lying.”
 

“We aim to please,” he replied. “Go ahead, test the water. Dip your toe in. We’ve installed top-of-the-line thermoregulators to ensure the perfect temperature. Always.”
 

“You’re heating … the ocean?”
 

“Only as required.”
 

“Wow,” she replied, stepping forward.
 

A wave drifted over her toes, warm as bathwater, and she instantly unwound. A salty gust of air filled her lungs, causing her chest to lift.

​

And just like that, the unshakeable sense of irresolution that’d been following her for years was suddenly gone. All that mattered was here and now—this moment.
 

“How’s the temperature?” Amir asked.
 

She returned to his side with a lightness in her step. “Perfect.”
 

“Excellent.” He tucked a fuchsia hibiscus behind her ear, and for some reason this motion summoned a pang of guilt. Her stomach lurched, and the weight of her body returned.
 

Did she really deserve this new life?
 

The answer was clear and undisputed. Of course not. No cognizant, twenty-five-year-old could honestly admit otherwise. She’d simply gotten lucky.
 

Then again, who was she to contest the force of luck?
 

“Are you ready to continue with the tour?” Amir asked.

 

She took one last glance at the ocean, nodding. The view was dreamy, glorious, enchanting—beyond any adjective she’d ever learned. Maybe she didn’t deserve this life, but it had found her. The only choice now was acceptance.
 

Even if Blue Haven seemed too good to be true.

 

Lisa King is a Canadian fiction author and researcher whose work on veteran mental health has been published in numerous academic journals. She holds degrees in psychology and neuroscience, both from Western University. Aside from writing, she enjoys family outings, ample coffee, and unapologetic napping. She lives in London, Ontario with her husband, daughter, and wonky-eyed cat.

Her latest book is the adult science fiction/psychological thriller, Blue Haven.

You can vist her website at www.AuthorLisaKing.com or connect with her on Twitter and Instagram.

Sponsored By: