Character Voice: Mrs. Stowe

Tomorrow Never Comes

Mrs. Stowe is Bernice’s personal assistant in “Tomorrow Never Comes.”

I was born Eloise Douglas. Today, however, I’m known as Eloise Stowe, or Mrs. Stowe as people often call me, out of respect for my age. I’m 60+ years old. I stopped keeping track of my age when I got pass 60. I figured I’m just blessed to be alive regardless of my age.

Because Lord knows, I’ve been through some times that made me feel like life wasn’t worth living.

Such time was when I lost my son … my only child. Ed Jr. – my baby – had a problem with drugs; heroin to be exact. He got hooked on it right after his dad died. I spent a many nights praying for him to get off that mess, and he did for a while; a while being no longer than a month. He always got back on it. He just couldn’t leave it alone to save his own life.

Sadly, he overdosed at a rundown drug house in Birmingham. My baby died with his eyes wide open while lying on a filthy floor covered with syringes, bloody needles, and burned spoons.

He had his whole life ahead him, but with the poke of a needle, he was gone at 18. That was 30 years ago. The years haven’t faded my pain. I can never forget the joy and unconditional love I always felt holding my son in my arms – something I can’t do anymore.

Despite my never-ending pain, I go on living because in the end, I have to.

I hurt too from the loss of my husband, Ed Stowe, Sr. He was my high school sweetheart; the love of my life. I loved that man so much that I married him three days after he proposed to me.

It didn’t matter that we were only 18 and three months out of high school when we married. All that mattered was that we were deeply in love.

Out of love for my husband, I followed him to Birmingham when he got a job in a steel plant. We were both 19. Neither one of us had ever been outside of Selma, where we were born and raised. But we moved forward in life because we had each other … and we were so much in love.

We had so much love that we created our son, Ed, in 1965. Though I brokenheartedly suffered two miscarriages during the late 1960s, our family was still complete … until that fateful day on September 5, 1978.

That’s the day when my husband was hit by a drunken truck driver and killed. He was just 33 years old.

I felt like my world had turned into darkness when he died. We had so many plans and were still so much in love after 15 years of marriage.

I actually wanted to stop living, but at that time, I had a son to raise. So, I managed to live through my pain.

Even to this day, my heart longs for my beloved husband and son. I move forward though because, in the end, life gives you no other choice but to do so.

And that’s what I try to help Bernice do: live through the pain. I know exactly what she’s going through – the addicted relative, the death of a loved one. I lived through it.

And I survived. I know she can too because she’s a strong woman.

I’ve been working for her for five years. She hired me based on a friend’s recommendation. I’ve grown to love her and her family as if they were my own. They’re actually all I’ve got since I didn’t have much family to begin with: no siblings, nieces or nephews; my parents are deceased.

Because Bernice feels like family to me, I can’t help but worry about her, for she’s starting to lean on something that’s not good. I worry about her siblings too, but Bernice was undoubtedly the strong one.

But now she’s using a crutch called Blue Wave Vodka. There are days when she drinks as many as three glasses. This worries me a lot. It worries me just as much as she worries about her own family.

Read about Mrs. Stowe in “Tomorrow Never Comes,” available at Amazon. To download it, click here.

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Character Voice: Rico Brown

Tomorrow Never Comes

Rico Brown is Bernice and Marlena’s younger brother in “Tomorrow Never Comes.”

My name is Rico Brown. I got good looks that could’ve taken Hollywood by storm. It didn’t happen though for one reason: I’m a drug addict.

Yeah, Hollywood is loaded with drug addicted actors, but they made it big first. I couldn’t do that. I would be too high to go to auditions – not a good thing when you’re trying to break into the business.

It’s my fault that I missed my shot at stardom. I own that, but I can’t own the reason I got on drugs in the first place. I just can’t.

See, I started doing drugs before moving to Hollywood. I started when I was a teen living in Alabama. I smoked my first joint when I was 14 years old.

I could say I smoked it to be cool or to impress a girl. Either explanation would be a lie. The truth is I smoked it because I felt a void within me. It existed because of my parents’ absences.

I know cancer took my mama, and dad just walked away. My sister, Bernice, told me all about it. Regardless of the reasons behind their absences, it still hurt me to the point that I felt empty.

I was just six years old when all this happen. How can I feel mama’s love when I have so few memories of her? How can I believe that my dad cared about me when he never once tried to find me after leaving?

With all that going on, I couldn’t help but feel empty. My sister was a superb guardian, but I still couldn’t help being starved for parental love.

So, that’s why I turned to drugs: to kill the emptiness within my soul.

When I moved to Los Angeles three months after high school graduation, I was determined to be an actor. It was a career I felt destined to be in. I loved acting since joining the drama club in the 10th grade. Playing a character provided a way for me to live another life. I was able to momentarily put aside my soul’s emptiness – although I still relied on reefer too.

And when reefer was no longer enough, I moved on to cocaine. I made this move at a party in Hollywood.  This was a bad move, too. It was like a chain reaction of bad luck.

For starters, I stayed so high that I missed practically every audition I was offered. After my agent dropped me, word spread around town that I was unreliable. That was the death of my acting career.

With my career busted, I had no income. And with no income, I lost my apartment. So, I ended up sleeping on my friend’s lumpy couch, who was also an addict.

Yeah, drugs were my downfall, but I was so hooked by this time, that I just couldn’t give it up. Drugs were my only escape from reality. It was the only way I could block out my parents’ absence and my fall from rising stardom. I needed it as much as your body needs water. The only difference is water is good for you; drugs are not.

I knew this but did not care. I only cared about getting the money to get the drugs. And this wasn’t a problem – considering I have a rich sister.

I just asked Bernice for money. I always lied in order to get it: I was short on rent, I needed a new outfit for an audition, etc. I said whatever I needed to say in order to get the money … except the truth. I didn’t tell Bernice the truth because I didn’t want to disappoint her anymore than I had already disappointed myself.

But as life goes, the truth always comes out.

I nearly overdosed one time, and that’s when she found out. The hospital contacted her and she was on the first plane out to California. My troubled lifestyle was no longer a secret. She knew everything.

That’s why she put me in rehab – three times.

I tried to pull my life together after each rehab stint. I really did. I even got another job … at McDonald’s. I had no choice since I was bad news in Hollywood. A minimum wage job was all I could find in a city that acts like it’s a magical place where dreams come true.

And I hated that damn job too: low wages, rude customers, and an ass for a boss.

Worst of all, I always felt lower than a worm in the dirt whenever someone recognized me from my TV commercials. Their ugly comments and snickers always reminded me how low I had fallen – from a rising Hollywood star to a fast food cashier.

I swear; the humiliation from that damn job drove me back to doing drugs. Yeah, I started getting high again. I got so high that I missed work a lot. They eventually fired me after three months.

Big deal … my sister was supporting me financially, so I didn’t have anything to worry about. That is until I landed in jail.

I was getting high with my friend when the police busted the apartment. One of the damn neighbors called the police on us to complain about loud music. The idiot even told them they suspected we were drug dealers.

Instead, they didn’t find us dealing drugs … they found us doing drugs. We were high as kites when they hauled us off the jail.

That was a low point in my life, especially since I was beat up in jail.  Once again, Bernice was there. And again, she put me in rehab without passing judgment. This was the third and final time.

Rehab was also where I met Stacy Slaw, my girlfriend.

I loved Stacy and would’ve easily married her, but we both were struggling addicts, clinging on to life by a thin piece of thread. That’s not a good situation for marriage. We did shack up though. And it was good for a while. We both got clean and even got jobs.

Then the demons returned and with the demons came the urge to get high. We were just too weak to kill the urges. So, we started getting high again. And with the highs came bad times: fighting, job losses, near overdoses, and whole lot of other mess.

Then one day, after learning my friend had overdosed, something within me went off like a bell. I knew I was heading in the same direction if I didn’t change. I was on my way to the grave, and I wasn’t ready to go there. After all, I’m just 26 years old.

So, I called Bernice and asked for help. I’m so lucky to have my sister because she never once judged me or turned her back on me. And this time was no different.

She bought me a first class, one-way ticket to Birmingham and made arrangements for me to enter an outpatient rehab. I knew without doubt I had her and Alicia’s love and support.

I felt a sense of hope, yet at the same time, I felt a great deal of shame. I was leaving California as a failure. I left Alabama as a dope head and now returned as … a dope head.

That shame made me do drugs one last time before leaving California and Stacy, whom I still loved yet had to leave for my own life’s sake.

It was the biggest mistake I made in my life.

Read about Rico in “Tomorrow Never Comes,” available at Amazon. To download it, click here.

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Virtual Read: Love in San Juan

Love in San Juan

Love is beautiful. It’s because of its beauty that love stories are a pleasure to read.

And speaking of a good love story, I enjoyed reading a fictional love story last year. Its title is “Love in San Juan” by Vinny Kapoor.

Here’s my review of this 22 page eBook:

This is a beautiful love story. The author did a wonderful job in showing that love is not only beautiful when it’s between the right persons, but also between two ethnicities.

In fact, this love story is so beautiful that it’s more captivating than a story overfilled with explicit sexual scenes.

I like that Mr. Kapoor chose to write about two minorities from two different backgrounds falling in love. This is rarely written, so it’s refreshing to see an author’s vision of it happening.

I admire the determination of the characters to make their love work. I hope the author writes a follow-up to this story. You grow to care about these characters instantly, and I’m anxious to know whether they survive the dilemmas that often befall interracial couples.

In the end, it doesn’t matter what your ethnicities are. All that matters is love, for there’s nothing in this world more beautiful than it. And Mr. Kapoor does an excellent job in reminding his readers of this reality.

This is a must-read for people who believe in love.

“Love in San Juan” is downloadable at Amazon.

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Excerpt of “Tomorrow Never Comes”

Tomorrow Never Comes

© 2014 Pamela Jones. All rights reserved.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events or locales in this novella are either the product of the author’s imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

The following excerpt is from my short eBook, “Tomorrow Never Comes.” Bernice and her family have just received devastating news, and more trouble is on the way.

Mrs. Stowe quietly entered the room. “The baby is asleep,” she informed them as she stood before them.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Stowe,” Marlena said. “I really appreciate you taking care of Alicia.”

“It’s my pleasure. Is there any way I can assist you now?”

“Yes,” Bernice answered with a deep sigh. “Call Stacy and find out where Rico’s remains are. We need to get him back to Alabama and plan his funeral as soon as possible.” She lowered her sad eyes, never thinking the day would come when she’d bury her young brother. She always believed that being the oldest, she’d go first.

“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Stowe wiped a tear from her dark skinned face as she turned away. Now, she figured, wasn’t the time to break down. These two heartbroken sisters needed her to be the strong one, and that’s exactly what she intended to be. Nonetheless, she still couldn’t stop a second tear from flowing down her cheek. She was familiar with such pain: her own young son succumbed to a heroin overdose thirty years earlier.

“Oh, Mrs. Stowe,” Bernice called before she left the room, “before you make that call, please bring me a glass of Blue Wave.”

Mrs. Stowe worried that Bernice’s family woes were driving her to her own problem: alcoholism. While worrying about her siblings, she often consumed Blue Wave Raspberry Vodka. There were days when she drank as many as three glasses.

Her siblings didn’t know her secret, and Mrs. Stowe knew this wasn’t the time to neither reveal it nor express her concern about it. Instead, she offered an alternative. “How about a cup of chamomile –”

Mrs. Stowe’s suggestion was cut short when they suddenly heard the wood frame front door bust open as if the SWAT was invading the house. Jumping to their feet with their hearts thumping fast, they rushed to the damaged door to see a thick-bodied, bald head man standing in the entrance.

Standing at 6’4” with an angry look on his ugly face, the uninvited guest looked as intimidating as a gangbanger. However, he wasn’t a gangbanger.

He was Otis – Marlena’s abusive husband. He returned home early from his contracting job. When he didn’t see Marlena and Alicia there, he undoubtedly knew where she was and what she was up to.

I hope that you enjoyed this excerpt. To purchase this low-priced eBook (0.99), click here.

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The Meaning Behind “I Love You”

I Love You Pinterest Image

As we go farther in time, there seems to be a phrase that’s losing meaning: I love you. People seem to have the slightest clue what it means to love someone these days.

The above image, which I found on Pinterest, best explains what “I love you” means.

What “I Love You” Doesn’t Mean

There is power in words. That’s why people need to know what it means to love someone.

Loving someone doesn’t mean:

  • Beating your spouse/companion
  • Talking to him or her badly
  • Cheating on your mate

In other words, if you love someone, you’re not going to treat them like crap. You’re going to treat them as good as gold.

So, please read the “I love you” image above. Afterwards, ask yourself these crucial questions:

  • Do you love the person you’re with?
  • Does that person love you?

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Character Voice: Marlena Brown-Mason

Tomorrow Never Comes

Marlena Brown-Mason is Bernice’s sister and Otis’ wife in “Tomorrow Never Comes.”

My name is Marlena Brown-Mason. I’m a housewife … an abused housewife. Life has had countless twists and turns for me. I reckon that’s typical, but for some reason, it just seems to be especially hard for me.

The hard times started for me when my father, Haxton Brown, walked out on mama and us kids – all because she got cancer. People always said he was a selfish man, and I think they’re right. What man would reject his dying wife and his own children?

Did he even care that growing up without a father made me feel as empty as a hole in a doughnut?

However, as much as daddy’s departure hurt me, mama’s death hurts worse. I miss her so much. I remember feeling like the world kicked me in my stomach when she died. Although the sun shined that day, I’ll always remember it as a rainy day.

At least that’s how it felt in my aching heart.

After mama died, I was lonely for her for maternal presence. I cried a lot – inside and out – whenever my classmates talked about doing things with their mothers: cooking, shopping, learning how to wear makeup, etc.

I wondered nonstop why I couldn’t have my mother in my life like other girls had theirs. We missed out on so much!

I wanted her to see how happy I was when I became a cheerleader in high school and went on my first date. I especially would have love for her to meet her only grandchild – my daughter, Alicia.

I would love to have had her comfort me through all those heartbreaking times, such as having my boyfriend dump me in favor of my friend – the same guy who took my virginity.

There were so many other times I wanted my mother alive, just to hold my hand as I faced life’s trials and tribulations, but her body just couldn’t hold on in this world any longer.

I’m just blessed that I have my sister, Bernice. I appreciate that she raised me and Rico. Otherwise, I reckon we would’ve become children of the system. Some relatives even suggested we go into foster care. Being the angel she is, Bernice ignored them and honored mama’s wish: take care of her babies.

Bernice always supported me in my darkest hours. No matter how big the challenges were, she never turned her back on me or Rico. She’s so many things to me: my sister, a second mother, my best friend … a godsend.

I love my siblings. Along with my daughter, they’re my heart. The thought of them being hurt hurts me.

Family is so important to me that when a family member hurts me, the pain scars me to the depths of my soul. And that’s exactly how deep my father hurt me when he left.

To be honest, his selfish departure stirred my desperation for love. I wanted some man to love me; to hold me. Instead, I got a man who hates and hits me.

I got Otis Mason.

Otis and I have been married for five years. All of these years have been pure hell. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t feel like he’d kill me. With every slap, choke, and kick, I knew I was at death’s doorstep.

So why did I stay?

Because I had been beaten down to feel only one thing: fear. And that fear grabbed my heart like a robber snatching a woman’s purse. You know if you dare fight that robber back, he’s going to kill you. So, you’d best to let him have your purse.

The same thing goes for Otis.

I knew if I ran or fought back, he’d kill me. He’d do it too without an ounce of guilt – all because of his hatred for his mother.

That’s right – my husband hates his mother. His unwavering hatred for her was the driving force for every abusive act he afflicted upon me. It was the reason he forced me to quit my bookkeeping job and center my mere existence around him – so I could be more accessible to his brutality.

Why would I marry a man that hates the woman whose womb he comes from? The reason is simple: I was a broken soul in need of love from a man. Also, I was too blinded by the fantasy I created of him being the right man to actually see he was the WRONG one.

I should’ve known that he was no good from the moment he first hit me, which was three months before we married. Prior to that, he yelled at me a week after we first met in a grocery store.

One good thing did come out of my abusive marriage: my daughter, Alicia. She is the light of my eyes. I was beaten and raped the night my angel was conceived. Granted, she was conceived under ugly circumstances, but she’s still my beautiful, precious angel. I saw her birth as a blessing. She’s the reason I want to live. She’s the reason I smile.

She’s the reason I took a chance and left Otis Mason.

Read about Marlena in “Tomorrow Never Comes,” available at Amazon. To download it, click here.

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A Dash of Hope (Flash Fiction)

broken heart

Image courtesy of Salvatore Vuono at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

© 2014 Pamela Jones. All rights reserved.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Summary: Portia Sims is looking for love in the wrong place: the bedroom. When she’s having trouble finding it, she wonders is it because of her “secret.”

Portia stared at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was 11:45. It’s going to be another long, boring night, she thought, rolling her big eyes.

She longed to share her bed with a man instead of spending another lonely night lying between its cold, satiny sheets – alone. She wished she could snuggle in a man’s strong arms; her face pressed against his muscled chest. She’d give her soul to smell the masculine scent that derives from being a man.

She wanted to be in love.

Reality, however, stomped out her wishes. And the reality was that lately men ignored her like she was invisible. She couldn’t understand why they weren’t interested in a sexy woman like her anymore.

Maybe they know my secret, but how could they when I haven’t told anyone, she wondered.

At that moment, her smartphone rang. Recognizing the number, she smiled while answering it. “Hey Lamar,” she said erotically.

Since meeting a month ago at a party, Lamar Gaines only called Portia twice. Each call lasted less than 15 minutes. He never asked her anything about herself. To be exact, he was disinterested her … until now.

“Are you busy?” Lamar asked. Lamar wasn’t one to dwell in conversation circles. He preferred getting straight to the point; this way he got what he wanted quicker.

“No.”

“You want some company?”

“Sure!” After giving him her L.A. apartment’s address, he hung up minus another word.

Portia powered off her phone, bounced off her queen sized bed, and prepared for her midnight guest – as well as the possibility of finding love with Lamar.

Twenty minutes later, when the doorbell rang, Portia opened the door while wearing a red, lace teddy. “Hello,” she said, with a sexy smile. She looked like a Playboy model as she stood in the doorway.

“Girl, you’re fine as hell,” Lamar commented, looking her curvaceous body up and down. Stepping inside, he wrapped his strong arms around her waist while kissing her. Growing hornier, he swept her off her feet. “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked hastily.

She pointed straight ahead. He hurried towards it.

After entering the white walled bedroom, Lamar put Portia down near the bed. She slowly undressed while he quickly took off his white shirt and Nike sneakers. When he took off his blue jeans – underwear wasn’t his specialty -, his bloated cock popped out of his jeans like a nude person out of a cake.

Portia smiled at his sizeable maleness. She loved nothing more than a “big man” who could fill her up. “This night won’t be boring after all!” she exclaimed.

Lamar ignored her remark as he flopped onto her bed. With his dark, toned body stretched out, he motioned for her to come closer.

She strolled sexily over to the bed. Getting on top of him, she attempted to kiss him. His hand blocked her face. “Go lower,” he demanded.

Without hesitation, Portia moved south of his body. He breathed hard like a panting dog as his body shivered from the pleasure her hot, watery mouth produced on his maleness. As her head bounced up and down, he tugged at her long hair like a rope. He didn’t care if he pulled it out; he was too busy enjoying her mouth service.

“I love you, girl,” he claimed, through intense breaths.

Wanting more of her body, Lamar withdrew himself from her mouth. Moving his body forward, he instructed her to turn around. It was then that he entered her womanhood from behind. He pumped away as she rested on her elbows and knees. Pleasurable murmurs escaped from both their mouths.

Again, Lamar loosely claimed his love as he exploded inside Portia’s body.

Although she enjoyed their physical contact, Portia adored something more: hearing the “L” word: love. She embraced it each time he said it. It was a word that she longed to hear from a man, especially since she knew her secret would scare a lot of them away.

Resting on the bed, Portia smiled and professed, “I love you, too.”

Lamar got up and dressed. He didn’t respond or look at Portia. Assuming he didn’t hear her light voice, Portia repeated herself.

After zipping his jeans, Lamar glanced at her. “Did you say something?”

“Yes. I said I love you. You said love me, remember?”

Lamar stared at Portia like she was crazy. “I don’t love you! I just wanted to fuck you.”

Portia’s mouth fell open. “What?”  She moved closed to the edge of the bed. “You told me that you love me!”

“Look, I have a fiancée. I love her – not you! I’m only here because she won’t sleep with me until we’re married, and I’m horny. I knew you’d be as easy as a cold to get.” He grinned at having achieved his sexual goal.

Tears bordered Portia’s eyelids. She thought there was a dash of hope that Lamar was interested in loving her, especially since he said the “L” word. “How could I be so stupid,” she cried out.

“It seems to be a natural thing for you,” Lamar coldly replied. He exited the apartment without saying goodbye.

Burying her face in her pillow, Portia cried uncontrollably. Like some many times before, a man used her body and exited her life – without loving her. Why does this keep happening to me, she wondered.

Suddenly her tears stopped. She even eased into a devilish smile.

In his rush to satisfy his horniness, Lamar failed to use protection. And Portia didn’t demand it. In fact, she engaged in unprotected sex with every man she slept with.

Thus, she gave them her secret.

This four-letter secret would change them and their partner’s health and personal lives forever.

So, whenever a man killed her dash of hope for love, Portia Sims always ended her tears with a ruthless smile. For she knew she had killed their lives.

Now who’s naturally stupid, she thought, laughing devilishly over Lamar’s fate.

What are your thoughts on this flash fiction?  Please feel free to share by commenting in the box below (scroll down).

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“Tomorrow Never Comes” Video

YouTube_logo_standard_white

I’ve created my second YouTube video. It’s for my eBook, “Tomorrow Never Comes.” If you haven’t read this short eBook, I hope this video will spark your interest in doing so.

To view this video, click the following link: https://www.youtube.com/user/AuthorPamelaJones

After you view this video, please share your thoughts about it. I always love to know what you’re thinking! Just scroll down to comment in the box below.

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Virtual Read: A Day in the Life of the Pointless and Average

shelly hammond

Have you ever at one point in life felt like you didn’t have a purpose for living?

Surely, we all have. That’s the case with this eBook, written by indie author Shelly Hammond.

This short eBook is about Evan Smith, an average guy living an average life. Throughout the story, he believes that his life serves no purpose. Although he’s not suicidal, he is a bit “down in the dumps.” He’s feeling this way because he feels his absence on earth wouldn’t make any difference to anyone.

He’s wrong about this. While on his way to work, we see examples of how Evan’s life manages to impact others in a positive way – though he’s blind to this reality. The author wonderfully brings the stories together at the end; showing readers that one man does have the ability to impact others’ lives.

This story is one that’s believable because so many of us go through life believing we don’t make a difference. We feel that the world would either be better without us or others wouldn’t notice our absence. However, I admire how the author showed that even in the littlest of ways, we have the ability to impact others’ lives.

My favorite character throughout the story was Evan. He was a good guy – though I think he thought too little of himself. In fact, if I could change one thing about the story, Evan would have been aware of his value in this life to others.

Then at the same time, the author made an excellent point having a character like Evan. He shows that there are people of such nature in existence.

I could relate to Evan; I think anyone can. We’ve all at some point in our lives felt like we didn’t matter.

I liked this story. The characters were well-rounded and realistic. I think the author was right in keeping the story as short as possible. It was the right length to make its point. And some stories don’t require hundreds of pages to do that.

I recommend this story to anyone who feels they have little to no value in this world. It will clearly show him or her that we all have value. We all have a purpose for living in this life.

“A Day in the Life of the Pointless and Average” is downloadable at Amazon.

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Musical eBook Soundtrack: For All We Know by Donny Hathaway

Tomorrow Never Comes

Movies have soundtracks – always have and probably always will. What about books – be it print or digital? The only way a book has a musical soundtrack is when it becomes a movie.

Given my creative nature, I am going to give my eBooks a musical soundtrack. Moreover, given my love for old school music, I choose the following song to represent my eBook, Tomorrow Never Comes:

For All We Know by Donny Hathaway

Based on the lyrics, this poignant 1972 song is appropriate for my eBook because of the following reason:

The characters may never meet again. Dealing with circumstances such as drugs and abuse, there’s a possibility that tomorrow may not be a day meant for everyone.  It provokes a sense of regret that their time together might not be forever.

To listen to For All We Know by Donny Hathaway, click the box below:

Also, here’s a link to the song’s lyrics:

Donny Hathaway – For All We Know Lyrics

What do you think about this song selection for “Tomorrow Never Comes”?

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Until next time, have a great week!

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