Love is an ideal dream for most, and an unattainable
illusion for many. We all want it—need
it. Depending on who you ask it’s either
the most sought after thing in our lives, or the most feared. Either way, love is a huge component of what
brings meaning to our lives. So what
happens if you’re never fortunate enough to have it? What happens if you walk through life from
the cradle to adulthood without ever truly having known love?
My book, My Beginning, was born out of several
questions. The first, can you truly love
someone that you’ve never met? Although
the main characters know of each other through mutual and familial connections,
they have not had contact with one another.
How then can love have lived in their hearts? Can mutual love of a treasured friend and
family member be enough of a tie for two complete strangers to bond and fall in
everlasting love?
For many of us, we scour our workplaces or clubs, or friends
of friends, or various social connections to deepen our dating pool. Would you ever consider that it could
flourish from a helping hand extending beyond the grave?
Well, that’s what happens in My Beginning. Death is not the end of love, it’s the
Genesis of it.
Take a moment to read this excerpt:
“Angela Johnson
was a special woman. She had the ability
to see what a person’s need was, and would do her best to meet that need even
if it meant inconveniencing herself. She
was kind, gentle, and a great listener.
She had the ability to just listen to you, without passing judgment, without
inflicting unwanted advice, she just listened and let you vent if that was what
you needed. I know there was many a time
when I would just talk to Sister Johnson, because I felt there was no one else
that could listen objectively. There
were times when I felt I couldn’t talk with my family, or even my husband for
that matter, but Sister Johnson was always there to do nothing more than listen
to me talk.
“I found it so
amazing that over the many years that our families were intertwined, that as
close as Drew has been to my family over the years, and as close as I have been
to Sister Johnson, this is the first time that either of us has laid eyes on
one another. But even though Drew and I
have never been formerly introduced, Drew, I have to tell you that I feel as if
I’ve known you for years. Many of the
conversations I had with your mother were spent with her expressing her pride
in her beautiful son.”
Genesis paused
for a moment watching Drew. He slowly
raised his head, and looked up at her.
For the first time in the ten years since Genesis had first heard her
brothers mention Drew’s name, she saw his face.
His smooth skin the color of buttered toffee was covered by a thin
shadow of dark brown hair. Genesis
wondered if Drew usually wore a beard, but when she looked closely at him she
realized the unruly tight curls that were beginning to creep up on his head
probably meant he needed both a haircut and a shave. The raven circles that were his eyes were
filled with unshed tears. The redness of
his eyes told the story of his weariness and his pain. The droop between his shoulder blades voiced
the heavy burden Drew was carrying.
Loss usually
had that effect on people; it had a way of beating a person down until they
were weak with a broken spirit.
Genesis
understood loss all too well, more than she ever wanted to admit. Still, she realized this moment wasn’t about
her grief, but the grief of Angela Johnson’s son. She took in a slow breath and continued to
speak.
“Drew, if
there’s one thing your mother always wanted you to know, it was how much she
loved you, and how proud she was of the man you are. She worried for years that she would never be
able to teach you how to be a proper man, because your father died when you
were so young. But in the end, you
surpassed all of her expectations, and when she died, she died knowing that she
had done her job and been a good mother to you.
“Your mother
called me a few weeks ago and told me she needed me to come to New York. I didn’t ask any questions, I got myself
together and found my way to her doorstep.
She told me she wasn’t long for this life, and she wanted to make sure
she asked a personal favor of me while she still could. She said, ‘My boy, Drew will hurt when I’m
gone. He doesn’t have any other family
other than the Lawrences. Please,’ she
said to me. ‘Please, sing His Eye is on
the Sparrow at my homegoing. I’ve
always loved hearing you sing that song; it’s always given me untold
comfort. I want that for my boy, I need
for him to feel that.’ So I slowly
nodded my head and told her no matter where or when it happened, I would stand
for her at that time and sing this song for you, Drew.” Genesis nodded to her mother, and Charlotte
began to play the first notes of the somber song.
Something began
to happen as Genesis sang; the sadness in the room began to be slowly blanketed
by a gentle relief. People began to
stand and clap, and dance in the aisles.
The congregation was cheering her on, but to Genesis, the only person
she saw, or even cared to see at that moment was Drew. As she continued to sing her song, she
stepped out of the pulpit, and walked to where Drew was sitting. She placed a hand on his sagging shoulder
trying her best to comfort him through the words of her offered song.
As she sang,
tears fell from her eyes and onto his shoulder.
Drew stood for the first time during the ceremony, he clapped, he
released the tears he had been holding back, and he allowed the celebration of
his mother’s spirit and life to fill him.
As Genesis
sang, she watched Drew raise his hands and just release the pain, the hurt, the
sorrow he’d been bearing in the moment.
When the last notes of the song passed through her lips, she opened her
eyes, and they immediately locked with Drew’s.
No words were shared between them; she stepped into his awaiting embrace
and the two just held each other until there were no more tears to cry.
Her sense
memory of what it felt like to be wrapped in Drew’s arms brought the electric
static she’d felt traveling across her skin back to her remembrance. She’d needed to hang on to him, for as long
as she could. Fortunately, the cover of
grief had made it appropriate for her to melt into the strange man’s arms in
the middle of her father’s church for the entire congregation to see.
The unexpected
rattle of turbulence snatched her from her reverie. The shaking cabin seemed to shake her mind
clear of the vivid images flashing before her eyes. That day of Angela Johnson’s funeral, Drew
and Genesis had shared something profoundly intense. Now a year later, her devotion to her
brother, her fondness of Drew’s late mother, and the intense momentary
experience shared between herself and Drew had her traveling three thousand
miles to help a man she barely knew.
BLURB
Genesis Lawrence left her home and family in Brooklyn, New York ten years ago and never looked back. When you've spent your entire life protecting yourself from the ones that are supposed to love you, running to the other side of the country seems like the best idea ever. Emotionally bankrupt, she begins rebuilding her life after failed familial connections and a broken marriage leave her too raw to ever believe happiness exists for her. Work as a Physical Therapist in her rehab clinic is all she knows and all she wants.
Drew Marrack has spent the last year of his life trying to end the soul-searing pain of losing his mother by any means necessary, even if that means ending him—literally. After a tragic accident and a resulting disability that devastates the tattered remnants of his world, only one name can give him a brand-new start: Genesis.
Pain, heartache, secrets, and tragedy from the past bring them together, and then fight to tear them apart. Is new love strong enough to give them the fresh beginning they both need, or is this simply the beginning of their end?
AUTHOR BIO
A native of Brooklyn, New York, LaQuette spends her time catering to her three distinct personalities: Wife, Mother, and Healthcare Provider. Writing: her escape from the everyday, has always been a friend and comforter. She loves writing and devouring romance novels. Although she possesses a Masters degree in English Lit, she'd forego Shakespeare any day to read something hot, lusty, and romantic.
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