{"id":724,"date":"2009-02-07T23:16:00","date_gmt":"2009-02-07T23:16:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/2009\/02\/bittersweet-memories-the-prologue.html"},"modified":"2014-08-17T19:07:35","modified_gmt":"2014-08-17T23:07:35","slug":"bittersweet-memories-prologue","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/2009\/02\/bittersweet-memories-prologue\/","title":{"rendered":"Bittersweet Memories – The Prologue"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

What does chocolate have to do with today’s post? Absolutely nothing! However, when I think about the title for my next novel, Bittersweet Memories<\/strong><\/a>, the first thing I think about is chocolate. The word bittersweet reminds me of chocolate, although, chocolate has NOTHING to do with the story! I received the author galley for Bittersweet Memories <\/strong><\/a>yesterday, and I have to have it read and returned back to Barbour by February 16. Below, I’ve copied and pasted the prologue for you to enjoy.<\/p>\n

PROLOGUE<\/strong>
\nKaren burst through the church doors, tears streaming down her face. \u201cPastor Smith, I can\u2019t believe Lionel is still missing!\u201d<\/p>\n

The reverend and his wife, Candace, pulled the hysterical woman into a hug, patting her back. After they released her, Candace stroked Karen\u2019s hair. \u201cHoney, thanks for coming as soon as we called. The police detective is in the boardroom, waiting to talk to you. Are you sure you\u2019re up for this?\u201d<\/p>\n

Karen wiped her eyes, struggling to gather her thoughts as the events from the past couple of weeks played through her mind like a nonstop movie. Her fianc\u00e9, Lionel Adams, had been fired as church treasurer after being accused of stealing thousands of dollars from their megachurch. And it was rumored that the assistant treasurer, Michelle James, who had recently resigned, had aided him with the theft.
\nLike the rest of the congregation, Karen had been shocked when the allegations against Lionel were announced at church two weeks ago. And since Lionel had left town the day before, she hadn\u2019t been able to contact him to find out what was going on.<\/p>\n

Karen turned toward Candace, her trembling lips attempting a smile. \u201cI\u2019ll\u2014I\u2019ll do the best I can to\u2014to answer his questions.\u201d<\/p>\n

The threesome began walking slowly down the hallway, toward the boardroom. A moment later, the pastor stopped outside a closed door, placing his hand on Karen\u2019s shoulder. \u201cKaren, Michelle is missing also.\u201d<\/p>\n

Karen gasped, stepping away from the pastor. \u201cThat. . .that can\u2019t be true.\u201d<\/p>\n

He nodded. \u201cUnfortunately, it is.\u201d Speaking softly, he said, \u201cThe church leadership team is concerned for both her and Lionel\u2019s welfare. We want to find them, but we can\u2019t ignore what\u2019s happened.\u201d<\/p>\n

Candace took her hand. \u201cHoney, we have to do all we can to locate them. What if there was foul play involved? Don\u2019t you want to make sure Lionel is safe?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears rushed from Karen\u2019s eyes, and she wiped the moisture away. Her head pounded as she leaned against the cool wall, the contact bringing relief to her heated skin.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay?\u201d asked Pastor Smith.<\/p>\n

Pulling herself away from the wall, she silently prayed, God, give me strength. \u201cI\u2013I\u2019m okay now.\u201d<\/p>\n

The pastor\u2019s kind dark eyes offered comfort. \u201cThe detective is in here. We called you to be questioned first since you know Lionel so well.\u201d<\/p>\n

Karen glanced at Candace. \u201cNobody told the congregation exactly how much money Lionel may have stolen. We just know it was thousands of dollars. How much cash was
\nmissing?\u201d<\/p>\n

The woman released Karen\u2019s hand and looked at her husband, frowning. In a calm voice, the pastor paused before speaking. \u201cFifty thousand dollars.\u201d<\/p>\n

Karen\u2019s head started spinning. With a muffled sob, Karen turned away, wiping her eyes. \u201cLord, please help me deal with this pain.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll take this one day at a time,\u201d Candace said. \u201cThe Lord will see us through.\u201d
\nKaren looked back at the closed door, hesitating. \u201cIs it okay if I go to the restroom be\u2013before talking to the detective?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course,\u201d Candace said with an understanding smile.<\/p>\n

Leaving the couple, Karen walked to the bathroom, pushed the door open, and entered the room, desperately seeking a private moment with the Lord. Her heart skipped a beat when Tara Baker, the church secretary, dressed in an immaculate cream-colored suit and sporting stylish hair and polished fingernails, stepped out of the stall. Spotting Karen, her dark eyes widened.<\/p>\n

While the secretary wordlessly washed her hands, Karen regarded her own worn jeans and faded T-shirt before touching her hair, which she\u2019d pulled into a ponytail in her
\nhaste to get to the church. She suddenly felt rumpled and dowdy. \u201cI always thought Lionel and Michelle were up to no good,\u201d Tara finally mumbled, drying her hands with a paper towel while glaring at Karen.Karen gritted her teeth, shocked at the rudeness of a woman who\u2019d once flirted with Lionel.\u201cI find it hard to believe that you had no clue what your fianc\u00e9 was doing behind your back,\u201d Tara said then turned on her heels and strode out of the restroom.<\/p>\n

Waves of pain floated through Karen\u2019s head as she struggled to blot out the secretary\u2019s words. Turning her focus to the Lord, she prayed, \u201cGod, please help me. Help us to find Lionel and Michelle. And keep them safe. Amen.\u201d<\/p>\n

Somewhat soothed, she rejoined the pastor and his wife. Pastor Smith gestured toward the now-open door. \u201cKaren, I\u2019m so sorry about this.\u201d<\/p>\n

Karen gave him a halfhearted smile then entered the room, praying for strength. The detective sat in a chair near the front of the room.<\/p>\n

The minister spoke, his voice full of kindness, \u201cDetective Ramsey, this is Karen Brown.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning, Karen,\u201d greeted the detective.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood morning,\u201d Karen mumbled, taking a seat near the detective. She turned to her minister. \u201cCan you stay here with me, Pastor Smith?\u201d<\/p>\n

The clergyman touched her arm, gazing at the detective. \u201cIs that okay with you, detective?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ramsey shrugged, opening his notebook. \u201cIf she wants you to stay, that\u2019s fine.\u201d
\nPastor Smith settled into the empty chair beside her.<\/p>\n

The investigator asked his first question. \u201cDo you know where Lionel is?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI. . .\u201d She paused, chewing on her lower lip. \u201cThe day before the church announced he was fired, he told me he was going to go out of town to visit his cousin. I haven\u2019t talked to him since, and th\u2013that was two weeks ago.\u201d She paused, gripping the arms of the chair. \u201cI\u2014I haven\u2019t been able to contact him since he left.\u201d She took a deep breath. \u201cHe won\u2019t answer his cell phone. I figured he wanted some time alone and I would see him when he returned for his hearing.\u201d<\/p>\n

The detective looked up from the notes he was writing. \u201cWhere does his cousin live?\u201d
\nAs Ramsey\u2019s questions went on and on, Karen felt overwhelmed with worry, fatigue, and nausea. Hot tears flowing down her cheeks, she prayed, Lord, will I ever feel normal again?<\/p>\n

Her head pounded with pain, and she began rubbing her temples.<\/p>\n

Pastor Smith touched her elbow. \u201cAre you all right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy head. . .hurts.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDetective, is it okay if we stop the questioning for a few minutes while I get Karen some aspirin?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t mind at all,\u201d said Ramsey.<\/p>\n

Karen heard Pastor Smith\u2019s retreating footsteps as she closed her eyes and rubbed her aching head. Her pain worsened as she leaned back into the chair. And then the world faded out.<\/p>\n

I hope this prologue whets your appetite for the rest of the novel! Purchase it today!<\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

~Cecelia Dowdy~<\/em><\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

What does chocolate have to do with today’s post? Absolutely nothing! However, when I think about the title for my next novel, Bittersweet Memories, the first thing I think about is chocolate. The word bittersweet reminds me of chocolate, although, chocolate has NOTHING to do with the story! I received the author galley for Bittersweet […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[5,28,35,34],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-724","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-african-american-novels","category-barbour-publishing","category-cecelia-dowdys-books","category-heartsong-presents"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/paovYP-bG","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/724","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=724"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/724\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2523,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/724\/revisions\/2523"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=724"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=724"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ceceliadowdy.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=724"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}