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Renee` Allen McCoy |
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About Titles
The Kiss of Judas
Justine Dasant walks the earth in search of something
that always seems to be just out of reach. After she's promised herself that she would leave her past in the past, history
starts to repeat itself when her current boyfriend, Isaiah Johnson, shows interest in someone other than her. Justine makes
it known that she'll stop at nothing to get what she wants, no matter who gets hurt along the way. Isaiah Johnson, a young, black CEO, has climbed himself to a life of wealth. He's worked hard to open his own business
and just when success peaks, he's faced with some life-altering decisions. Not only does he regret meeting Justine, but it's
difficult for him to escape her real-life fatal attraction. Isaiah finds himself struggling to defend a future of uncertainty.
The main characters take
the meaning of love to a different platform. It's not just about love or being in love, but how naive and vindictive lovers
can be. The invite of immaturity into a relationship can tear anyone apart. Instead of inviting havoc, try inviting JESUS!
Losing a childish behavior is more profitable than losing a soul. It's a roller-coaster event
that'll keep you guessing. This spine-tingling novel takes twists and turns that'll have you questioning, "Could that ever
happen to me?" Beware of The Kiss... Preview of The Kiss of Judas
1 Isaiah
I was running from the devil as fast as I could. My hair raced in the opposite direction, my feet floated
like raging currents of an ocean. Desperate, petrified, jittery, strapped—something familiar snatched me back. “Isaiah.” She loved calling my name with the sweetest voice I’ve ever known. My ears
attentively waited for the next words she’d release. Caressing my hair that stretched to my shoulders, she rendered me helpless. Her femininity stifled my
flow and tackled me to the ground. I knew from the moment we met, something just wasn’t right, yet I went with my loins
acting in place of my brain. Her beauty slapped me every time I laid eyes upon her. Pimp slaps to my face. Karate kicks to my heart.
She presented herself as every woman, every woman indeed. Her eyelashes fluttered the sweet song of seduction. Her lips pouted the hymn of fornication. And the
rest of her wanted me to partake of the forbidden fruit. Movies, dinner, nightcaps, intercourse—her marathon tested my stamina. I never had a chance. Our bodies intertwined as one recreating the effects of a Twizzler stick. She moaned
my name. I groaned hers, “Justine.” She grabbed my head in the heat of passion and marked her territory with scratches on my back. I winced
a little, but didn’t want to disturb the groove. She’s my love, my one and only. The woman I wanted to marry one
day, the woman I wanted to carry my seed. The motion of her hips stirred up my desire, enticed my heart, and quenched my thirst. Her beautiful
hazel eyes lured me in. Excuse me, her beautiful hazel contacts lured me in. She presented me with every quality I asked for
in a mate. Perfection should have been her name. I met this woman at a restaurant while I was having a Boys Night Out with my fellas. She was wearing
an orange halter-top-tie-thing with some jeans that accentuated her booming system. Her toes, oh her toes...I’m a sucker
for pedicures. Her hair was in an up do that swung in opposite directions when she walked. She has strikingly smooth, ebony
skin tone that should have been featured in the latest issue of Jet magazine. She should have been a beauty of the
week—captivating smile, alluring fragrance, reputable intelligence, and justifiable conceitedness. The single candle lit above our heads represented the year we had been together and the pictures on the
wall displayed our loyalty to one another. At least it should have. I peered up at her, remembering what my best friend had told me and suddenly my desire for her left.
The feeling of insecurity injected a glacier into my heart, but I still loved her. She had my soul, I prayed that I had hers
yet envisioning her with another man killed my appetite. I rolled over to my side of the bed, yanking the sheets up to my chest. “Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, placing a petite palm on my left shoulder. I turned around to answer, almost wanting to ask her if it were true. The thoughts were driving me crazy,
but I had to know. I had to know if
the woman I had been idolizing for the past year was creeping behind my back. “Baby, is there something wrong?” she repeated as her mesmerizing eyes put me right back
in her trance. She had me. I was on lock down. I tried to fight my way out, but she always managed to wrestle me to
the mat. One, two, three… the championship was her victory—I lost. I think I’ve lost more than I bargained.
The successful Jermaine Grant seems to have it all together on the surface. He's handsome, young,
and headstrong. He has the right job, the caring family, and most of all, the love of his life backing him. In the midst of
turmoil, Jermaine steadily endures the roughest times of his life through unsolicited changes. As he battles with demons
in his life, Jermaine is forced to face the fiercest of them all. Nia Thomas, Jermaine's number one counterpart, diligently
prides herself on the effort of taking care of home while she internally struggles with keeping herself together. The only
constant factor in her life is change. As Nia enters a new stage of her life, she goes through transformations of her own,
keeping secrets that may affect her for the rest of her life. This couple suffers menacing moments of failed intimacy. Each in their own worlds, Jermaine and Nia assemble lives that
defies their reality. Traveling down a road of uncertainty, Jermaine and Nia are pushed to an edge where confessions
are revealed without consent. Neither one thought that telling a lie would hurt so much. This novel picks right up where The Kiss of Judas leaves off. It takes more twists and surprising turns
just as the first. Keep an eye out for the third installment, The Eleventh Hour. I was sitting in hell’s domicile—poisoned by impurity, damaged by immaturity,
suffocated by insecurity, and drained of tranquility. I thought I knew everything there was to know in my life. I was sure
that I had it all—the right job, the right girl, and the right family. It was perfect to the point of nausea. I prided
myself on knowing the fact of us all being born with a soul, a body, and a spirit, carefully noting that the only thing separating
us is our level of education and determination. Looking at myself and judging from today’s circumstances, I don’t
know a thing. My love for this
world was a façade, pretending to be what I thought it already was. The beautiful furnishings that accompanied my being were
props, carefully set up around corners of my life, fooling more than myself in a world that never even existed. I don’t
even know who I am anymore. Balancing a thin
rope of fear catapulted me into a place I never thought I’d be. The Unknown is a familiar room right now with an adjoining
suite called Deceit. The entire house was shielded by a sign that now reads, Do Not Enter, on a street entitled Dead End. Player hater,
that’s what people used to call me. I don’t think I ever had too many friends because of my self-proclaimed independence
and go-getter attitude. I used to be the kind of guy that never trusted women further than I could see them. And people looked
at me funny when I had the same protected love for my boys. I’m not one to let anybody I’m down with get taken
for a ride. My boys and I have been hanging
strong ever since I can remember and the bank we’ve made deserved to be under wraps. Why is it so hard to be a man trying
to make ends meet with some change left over? Well, I found out the answer not too long ago. I had a role model in my life
that always seemed to put my attitude in check, my main man, Isaiah, who was down with me from day one. |
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