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CAT MEYERS


Ghetto princess


About the book

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Sasha was fifteen years old when she slipped out of the window of her grandmother’s house to run away with Linc, her first love.  But Linc had other plans.  Sasha quickly found herself caught up in the deadly world of sex trafficking.  Eight years later, Sasha comes home.  The neighborhood has changed a lot since she left.  Yet with the help of an unlikely collection of friends—a seventy-year-old diva, a six-year-old genius and a young cop who is madly in love with her—Sasha slowly starts to get her life on track. 

This is not an easy task because Sasha did not return alone.  She carries a load of guilt, regrets and so many ghosts from her past.  On top of all that, Sasha bears a deadly secret that threatens to destroy the fragile new world she has worked so hard to rebuild
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She ran away from home for love and love nearly killed her...  
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Sample 
​Chapter

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     I was sure that none of these new neighbors knew about my past, though.  I would’ve bet money on that fact…two days ago.  But now I knew for sure, they all knew.  The whole block knew.
    Two days ago, I was making my routine run to the supermarket.  I didn’t have a car so that meant I had to take two buses to get to the real market and not the corner store, where you had to brush off the mouse droppings to just to buy a six pack of cola—not Coke, plain old cola.  Every couple of weeks, when my shopping list had grown long enough to make the trip worthwhile, I took the two-hour trip. 
     The problem with waiting for the trip to be worthwhile was that it meant lugging a lot of bags from the market.  And is it just me, or are those plastic supermarket bags getting flimsier and flimsier?  Well, me and my flimsy shopping bags had made it halfway up the block when one of the bags fell completely apart, and all of my groceries spilled all over the ground.  I cursed and scrambled to pick up the cans of tuna, Oodles of Noodles, and frozen dinners that spilled all over the ground before the cats ran off with them.
     “Need some help?”
     Before I could say anything, the helpful stranger crouched down and started gathering up my groceries.  We tried to stuff some food in the rest of the bags, and what wouldn’t fit, he carried in his arms.
     “Thanks,” I said.
     “No problem.”  He walked along side me to my house.  “The name’s Dre.  And you are?”
     “Sasha.”
     “Sasha,” he repeated, adding a little more spice to my name than the way I said it.  “Yeah, I’ve seen you around the neighborhood a few times and kept meaning to say hi to ya but…”
     “But what?  Your wife wouldn’t let you?”  I had seen him around the neighborhood too.  And his woman and two kids were never too far behind.
     “Wife?” He laughed, nervously, as he followed me up the steps.  “Sh-she, she’s not…we ain’t married.”
     Well “hood married” then.  That’s when a couple has been together so long, lived together, had kids together and did so much other stuff together, everyone thought they were married.  “It’s okay.  None of my business.  Thanks for helping me with my bags.”
     “Hey.  That’s what neighbors are for…” He walked inside and was smacked in the face by the heat.  “Damn, it’s hot in here!”
      “I know.  The ceiling fan is broke.  And I can’t get the window open.”
      “Why didn’t you say so?”  He put some of the groceries down to free his one hand and started pulling on the ceiling fan chain.  It didn’t move.  He studied it carefully.  “Oh yeah, I can have this fixed in no time.”
     “You can fix stuff?”
     “They don’t call me the Fixer for nothing.  Let me grab my tools.”  He dropped the rest of the groceries on the dining room and started to leave.
     “Wait!  How much do you charge?  I don’t’ have a lot of money.”
     “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”  He winked at me and then he bolted.
     Wow, this dude must really love his job, I thought to myself.  I had never seen someone so excited to fix a ceiling fan.  I shrugged off that thought and went about putting the groceries away.  A few minutes later, I heard Dre return and immediately start working on the fan.  He was making a whole bunch of noise, so I turned on the radio.  The Isley Brothers, Groove with You, was playing on the radio.  I don’t know why, but I love the Isley Brothers.  I think it was because they were my mother’s favorite group.  And when she put them on, lit some incense and cleaned up her bedroom, I knew what was coming next:   “Sasha, put your pj’s on!”
     Her boyfriend, Uncle Mark, was coming over to “spend some time with her.”  And I would be spending the night at our neighbor, Miss Cassie’s house—which I didn’t mind.  She had two daughters about my age and they had more dolls to play with than any girl could’ve dreamed of.  I was really young when all of this was going on.  I knew Uncle Mark wasn’t really my uncle, but I didn’t know anything about sex or booty calls.  My mother worked really hard and Uncle Mark must not have lived close by, because he didn’t come over often.  But when he did, my mother transformed!  From stressed out, weary, single mom, to a vibrant, sexy woman.  She even put on makeup.  Sometimes I forgot how beautiful my mother was, but she really was gorgeous.  And for days after a visit from Uncle Mark, Mommy practically floated around the house. 
     That’s what I was doing now while I pulled out the ingredients for dinner.  Floating.  I floated into the living room where Dre was working and said, “You’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.”
     “Aw thanks girl.  You didn’t have to go through no trouble.”
     “Oh, it’s no trouble.  Just a token of my appreciation.”
     He gave me a sly smile.  “You appreciate me, huh?”
     “Uh huh.”
     “All right.  I appreciate that.”
     Okay, if it seemed like I was flirting with Dre, it’s because I was.  I flirted with him knowing that he was hood married.  What can I say?  He was fine.  He had that tall, muscular, blue-collar thing going on.  And I’ll admit it, I had my needs.  I was feeling a little lonely and this Isley Brothers’ music had put me in a mood.  But what happened next, even I wasn’t prepared for.
     I had the ground beef sizzling in the pan and had just added the Hamburger Helper, when I heard Dre say            “Mmm!   That looks good.”
     I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the food.  I let that roll off of me and said. “Did you get it working?”
     “Sure nuf!”
     “Yes!  Thank you so much, Dre.  You just don’t know…,” I said, so excited by the thought of not having to bake in that oven of a living room anymore.
     “Oh, I know.”
     I pulled out the chair for him at the kitchen table.  “Okay, so why don’t you make yourself comfortable.  I’m going to run upstairs and get something for you.” 
     I ran upstairs and into my old bedroom.  In the top dresser drawer, was where I kept my stash.  The money that I saved for emergencies.  I had about $120 saved.  I didn’t know how much it cost to fix ceiling fan, but he had only worked on it for about a half an hour.  So, I took out $20.  It seemed like a fair price.  If he pressed me for it, I might be willing to go up to $30, but I was hoping he would be happy with the twenty.
     Turns out that this fool would have been happy if I had come downstairs with a piece of gum.  Nothing else.  No clothes, no shoes, no panties, just butt naked with a stick of gum.   Because that’s what I found with I came down stairs and back to the kitchen.
     The twenty-dollar bill slipped out of my hand, as I shouted: “What the…why are you standing in my grandma’s kitchen butt naked?!!”
     He gave me that sly grin again. “Huh?  I gotta get home soon, so I figured we could just skip dinner and cut right to dessert.”
     “And you thought dessert was me?”
     “Yeah,” he slid back down in the chair, with his knees wide apart like he was expecting to receive something.  But all I kept thinking was:  You’ve got your naked black butt on my grandmother’s chair.  I know she’s rolling over in her grave.  Dre said, “Listen, I was talking to my boy, Craig.  He told me about you.  Said you were setting up your own spot here.  And I said, ‘Word! That’s a great idea.  I really admire women entrepreneurs.  She got my support.”’
     “You think I’m in the sex business?”
     He must have read the annoyance on my face, because he stood up and walked over to me then said in a soothing tone, “Look, it’s cool.  You don’t have to worry.  I won’t tell the cops or nothing.  I mean, why would I want to shut that business down?  I mean, all the fellas will be over here getting serviced.”
     “Serviced, huh?” I said, folding my arms.  Inside I was heated, but that didn’t stop him from running his mouth.
     “You’ll probably have to bring in a few girls to keep up with the demand.”
     “I will, huh?”
     “And of course, I’d be happy to be your personal handyman.”  His eyes lit up when he said this.  “I can put in a couple of air conditioners, so your clients will be comfortable.  I can even put in a stripper pole for ya.  I’ve installed a couple of them.  And them jawns are nice!  I wouldn’t even charge you full price.  I’d give you a special discount.”
     He leaned in close.  I could feel his ding-a-ling pressing up against my leg and his lips inching closer to mine.  I put my hand up and blocked his lips.  He looked confused, until I smiled and said sweetly, “Can you excuse me for one sec?  I just need to get something.”
     He kissed my fingers, which were still in front of his face.  “Sure baby.  I’ll be waiting right here.”  He sat back down, legs wide open, ding-a-ling pointing straight up in the air.  Then he licked his lips.  His idea of being sexy.
    “I’ll be right back.” 


     And I was.  I was back in less than two minutes.  But I wasn’t alone.  I had Lady with me …and Miss Lola.
     “The devil is a liar!  Boy, have you lost your mind?!!”
     At the sound of Miss Lola’s voice, Dre scrambled to his feet and scurried behind a chair to cover his goodies.    “Miss Lo-I…uh, Sasha—”
     “Sasha, what?  Sasha told me you fixed her ceiling fan.  And when she went to go pay you, she found you standing in her kitchen butt naked.”
     Which was the truth.  So, I stood by Miss Lola, nodding my head confidently.  I wasn’t the least bit worried about him telling her I was a prostitute because I knew she wouldn’t believe anything that came out of a naked man’s mouth.
     Miss Lola kept ranting. “…I mean, you fixed my ceiling fan last year and only charged me forty dollars.  Did your prices go up?  Please, tell me now cuz I was gonna ask you to fix the leak in my sink.  Am I gonna have to buy myself some rubbers too?”
     Dre laughed nervously. “That’s a good one, Miss Lola,” then he turned to me.  “Why’d you bring her over here!”
     “Don’t you dare yell at her!  Why wouldn’t she bring me over here?  She’s a single woman, living on her own.  The last thing she needs is some hound dog in heat, trying to hump all over her because she needs help.”
     The more heated Miss Lola got, the more Lady got heated too.  She started in with that loud, deep bark that I was sure the whole neighborhood could hear her. 
     “Aw, shut up, Lady,” Dre barked back.  “You ain’t gonna do nothing but make a lot of noise.”
     I guess Lady took that as a challenge, because all of a sudden, she took off after Dre.  He wasn’t talking so tough anymore.  His voice got all high-pitched and he started screaming, “Get the dog!  Get the damn dog!”
     The thought of getting gummed in the butt—or on the other side—by a toothless dog was enough to light a fire under Dre.  He shot out from behind the chair, trying to scoop up his clothes and protect his private parts at the same time.  Lady was right on his heels as he broke through the screen door.  Miss Lola was laughing so hard, she couldn’t even call Lady off of him.   The old dog ran out of energy half way down the block.  But she had hung with him long enough to prove her point.  She still had it.  And the rest of the block knew she had it, because they cheered the dog on and laughed at Dre at the same time.
     I made a special plate of Hamburger Helper for Lady, my way of thanking her.  I offered some to Miss Lola, but she politely said no.  She was too busy scrubbing off the chair where Dre had planted his butt. 
     “Gladys would have a fit if she saw that fool stinking up her nice kitchen set.  It took her three years to pay this off.”  When she finally finished scrubbing, Miss Lola glared at the chair, still not satisfied.  “I don’t know, Sasha.  You might have to burn this chair.”
     I looked at her, not sure if she was kidding.  Then she busted out laughing.  So, did I.  I had to sit down, I was laughing so hard.  All throughout the night, I found myself breaking into sudden laughter. I think when Misha came to see me in the middle of the night, she was laughing too.  The laughter continued off and on throughout the morning and into the late afternoon.  It had been years since I laughed so hard.  Belly aching laughter.  It felt so good.
     Until I heard the glass break.






To find out more about Human trafficking, please visit these sites:

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  • National Human Trafficking Hotline
  • Polaris:  Freedom Happens Now
  • Salvation Army:  Humans Should Never Be For Sale
  • SharedHope.org
  • Stop the Traffik
  • ​Covenant House
  • ​Truckers Against Trafficking

An Excerpt From:  Fear of Falling ...And Falling Again


I know most people would simply go to the virtual pet store, order up a pet, and boom!  An hour later, they’re a pet owner.  If I’m going to find a four-legged friend to cuddle up with and keep me company until Gen-Mate decides to be kind to me, I feel like this is a decision I need to make in person.  I may have decided to leave my future spouse in the hands of science, but my choice in pets will be based on good ol’ fashion instinct.  At least I can still have control in some areas of my life.
I choose an orange and white Calico cat.  I know Ma told me to get a dog—she was only half kidding.  But I certainly don’t want some furry monster drooling all over me and my pretty tiled floors.  As soon as I see her, there is an instant connection.  The way she looks at me with those piercing green eyes, like she’s saying: I don’t know why you keep walking by me.  You know you want to pick me up. And so, I do.  I pick her up and she curls up into my arms, purring for me the most beautiful melody.  Sold!!! 
I call her Love.  Yes, it’s kind of sappy, but this whole Gen-Mate drama has me in an emotionally fragile state.  I can see it now.  I come home and Love greets me at the door.  I’m having a bad day and Love cuddles up on the couch with me. I’ll never eat dinner alone again, because Love will dine with me every day.
 

           
Man, was I wrong!  Love hates me.
I come home after a long day at work, Love runs the other way.  I sit on the couch and wait for her to cuddle with me, she walks right by me, to the other side of the room, and stares out the window.  I’ve tried six different brands of food—really expensive food—and she turns up her nose every time.  As she struts away, she let out a tiny meow, as if to say, “somebody get meowt of this place!”
What happened to the sweet, little ball of lovin’ that wooed me at the animal shelter?  I’m starting to feel like I’ve been set up.  Like my girl Love took some advice from her shelter friends.  “Listen, you wanna get out of here, girl?” one of the other cats probably said.  I bet it was that smokey gray one with the two different colored eyes.  “Here’s whatcha do.  Find a mark.  Preferably a lonely woman.  Give her ‘the look.’  And when she picks you up, lay it on real thick.  Rub up against her and purr real sweet.  You’ll have her eating out of the palm of your paws.”
And Smokey was right.  Here I am, giving it my all—all my heart and my money.  Desperate for just one minute of Lady Love’s time and attention.  In return, all I get is her furry cold shoulder.
“Why did you get a female?” Aries says to me, as we’re on the way to the vet.  Things are so bad between me and Love, I decide to get her checked out.  To see if there’s actually a heart in there.  “Females are the worst.  They’re so cold and aloof.”
“I swear she wasn’t like that in the shelter.  She was all warm and affectionate.”
“Was she really warm and affectionate, Annie?  Or did you just see what you wanted to see?” 
At this point, I’m not so sure.  Because I’ve seen no trace of the love in Love since the shelter.  The vet says she’s okay.  A perfectly healthy, cold and aloof European Short Hair cat.
 
 
“Why didn’t you get a dog?” says my mother.  After I drop off Aries, I pop in to check on her.  She had gone off the grid again, plotting her next move in the Tech the Halls campaign.  She would have been furious at the idea of me checking up on her, so I come under the guise of introducing her to my new cat.  Not surprisingly, Love takes to Nova like a long-lost friend.  Love curls up on my mother’s lap and purrs so loud, I can barely hear my mother say,  “I told you to get a dog.”
“Seriously, Ma, do you really see me as a dog person?”
“No, but I don’t see you as a cat person, either.” She strokes Love in long deep strokes from her ears all the way down to her tail and the cat practically moans. I feel like yelling:  Get a room, you two!    Ma adds, “Maybe a fish. I see you more as a fish person.”
“I had fish, remember?  They died the day after I got them.”
“Oh yeah!  That’s right.  Well, you’ve had Love for three weeks now and you haven’t killed her.  So you’re doing something right.”
“Ma!” I nearly burst into tears.
“What? I’m sorry.  I was kidding.  You know I was kidding.”
Then really I do burst into tears.  Love can’t stand my weeping.  She hops off Ma’s lap and disappears.  I slide right into her place, plopping my head on my mommy’s lap.
Now that her hands are free, she rubs my back.  “What is it, honey?”
I know she’s just kidding, but that’s just it.  “This is serious for me, Ma.  I’m hurting and you don’t even care.”
She’s speechless. “I-I…What do you mean I don’t care?  You’re my baby girl.  Of course, I care.  I just want you to be happy.”
“So do I.”
“You want to be happy, so you get a cat as a placeholder until you get a man.  I never raised you to need a man for your happiness.”
“I don’t need a man to—”
“You don’t?  From Grayson to the man-of-the-week on those dating feeds to now letting some computer pick your husband for you.”
“I’ve got news for you, Ma.  It’s the twenty-third century.  Men are back in style.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, unlike you, we like men again.”
“Yeah, you like men.  The problem is, you like any ol man.  You let them pop in and out of your life—out of your bed, with no regard for what they’re all about?  Their passions.  Their future plans.  How those plans fit with yours.”
I pick my head up from her lap and just stare at her. “Are you seriously giving me advice on how to pick a husband?”
She sighs.  “Lord knows, I’m no expert.  But even you have to admit, you’re getting off course here.”
“What course?  What does that even mean?”
“It means, ever since your friends started getting married, you’ve put yourself into this competition to find a mate.  It’s not about finding love.  It’s about keeping up with the Lionesses.”
“That’s crazy.”

 
 

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“No, that’s truth.  The truth is, the child I raised has never been obsessed with finding a man.  Never cried over not having a man—”
“I’ve cried!  I’ve cried a lot.  I just wouldn’t dare do it in front of you because you’d call me weak…or just make a joke about it, like you did today.”
My mother knows me so well.  She knows she’s pushed me close to my breaking point.  She dials it back.  Squeezing my hand, she says,  “I know I can be tough on you…but it’s just because I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”
“I know.”
“And I know you just want to be happy.  But honestly, honey. The happiest I’ve ever seen you was when you were running your business and making—”
I pull my hand away.  I’ve heard this speech before and I wasn’t in the mood to hear it again.
“I know you don’t want to hear it.  But it’s true, Annora.  You were doing it.  You were doing your thing.  Designing homes. Positioning yourself to build the dream building, the Emerald—”
“The Diamond.”
“That’s what I meant, the Diamond. The Diamond.” She lets out a little snicker.  “I remember the first time showed it to me. In Cape May, remember?”
“Of course I remember.”
“You were seven years old and you sculpted it out of sand with your tiny, little hands…” Her eyes always get all dreamy when she remembers the ancient days when I was still moldable.  “I said, ‘what’s that you’re making there, honey.’ And you said, ‘I’m making—”’
“Making the future, Mommy,” I say along with her. 
“You were missing your two front teeth and you looked so cute.  So sure that you were going to make it happen.” She sighs and adds, “I hate that you let that Grayson rob you of your dream.”
“He didn’t rob me of anything.”
“You haven’t done the one thing you were passionate about since you broke up with him.  I call that robbery,” as she says this, Love returns to her lap.  It’s like they’re ganging up on me now. 
“No more lawsuits, no threat of bankruptcy, no more having my name dragged through the mud. I call it survival.”
“You were made to do so much more than survive, Annora.” She looks so earnestly into my eyes, I want to look away.  But I can’t.  “Live.  Live each day to the full.  Love the people God has put in your path.  Pursue your passion.   Love will find you.”
“Love may find me.  With Gen-Mate, love is guaranteed to find me.”
“There are no guarantees, Annora,” Ma replies.  And Love has the nerve to meow in agreement.


Love sleeps peacefully the whole ride back up to my skyrise.  As soon as I walk inside, set her carrier down and flip open the latch, Love makes a break for it, disappearing up the stairs. I should’ve left her in the Bottoms with my mother.  Those two couldn’t have been a better fit if Gen-Mate had matched them, personally. 

Speaking of Gen-Mate, it’s been a few weeks since I’ve checked my beta-mail.  After my talk with Perrin, I figured it was probably best for my sanity—as Libra would say—if I took a little break from it.  I had used my junk beta-mail for Gen-Mate, anyway, so it was no big deal to go weeks without checking it, unless I was looking for free porn or sexual performance injections, which for some reason always cluttered that beta-mail account.  Three weeks should be enough time to be chosen by somebody.  I hold my nose and wade through the all the junky beta-mails until I find it.  The most recent message from Gen-Mate.  I click on it.
Nothing.
Still no mate.  I don’t understand this!  Was this some cruel joke?  Was someone trying to mess with my head?  Who would hate me this much as to put me through this torment?  I stumble into my bedroom before the waterworks start again.  Love is sprawled out on my bed, preening herself like the Queen of Sheba.  As soon as she sees me, she scatters.
My mother raised me to be strong, but I feel myself breaking.
Rejected by Gen-Mate.
Rejected by Love.
The Jones streak, or should I say the Jones curse, must have mutated with my generation, so that, not only do our marriages not last past ten years, my generation must have devolved into not getting married at all.
I give up.  It’s too hard.  Too hard to keep my heart open like this.  It’s not just about the three fruitless months on Gen-Mate. It’s the years invested in a lie with Grayson.  And the seven-year void in between.  I let it all out.  In the privacy of my bedroom, in my luxury condo, I bawl my eyes out.  Ugly tears.  I sob into my pillow, near hyperventilation, certain that I’ll never stop, because it seems this pain has no end.
I notice a strange sensation.  Movement on my bed.  A light furry ball resting in the space beside my armpit.  I hear Love’s gentle purr.  Purrrr…Purrrrr…Purrrr.  A slow and easy cadence. It’s not long before my breathing slows down to match the rhythm of Love’s purr. 
I realize something about this little gift I brought home from the shelter.  Love may be elusive.  Love may be complicated.  But when I really need her…Love is here for me.
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Photos used under Creative Commons from zoetnet, Imagens Evangélicas