Saturday, December 30, 2006

Party ... Anyone?

You're Invited ...



Virtual New Year's Eve Party

Held Where: My New Blog

Date: Sunday, December 31, 2006

Time: 6:00 P.M. (EST)

Activities: Trivia, Guest Authors, Door Prizes, Contests and more...

If you plan to attend, please RSVP below so I know my catering numbers.

P.S. If you're an author who would like to have your book considered as a prize or contribute as a guest speaker email me.

P.S.S. If you're a bookstore and would like to offer a coupon or gift certificate as a prize email me.

P.S.S.S. If you're a book club and would like to tell us a bit about your club and supply a top 10 booklist of the books you've read in 2006 email me.

Thursday, December 14, 2006

Please Vote for Me!

Hi Folks,

Hope this note finds you well. While browsing the C&B Books Web site earlier today. I found out that AIJAN and I are part of a contest to become Author of the Month for December.

I'd love it if you'd place your vote for me. See voting instructions, as well as a note about the book itself.

Thanks in advance,


Monday, October 02, 2006

New Gig

Hi Folks,

Just a quick note to advise that I've now become a Blogging in Black Columnist. I'll be posting on the 11th of every month starting this month. I'm not sure what my topic will be as yet, but I'm sure I'll figure something out between now and the 11th.

Whatever the topic, I'd love it if you'd show up and give some support by way of comments.

Here's to new avenues of expression.


Sunday, October 01, 2006

Women's Ministry Sample Brochures

Design samples as of 10/1/07. Click on link to view photo: 

This post has now moved here (Women’s Ministry Sample Brochure Designs) at my new site location.  Feel free to contact me there if the design shown above piques your interest.

Friday, September 15, 2006

Age is Just a Number: Adventures in Online Dating

Title: Age is Just a Number: Adventures in Online Dating
Author: D.S. White
Publisher: Divine Truth Press
Release Date: September 15, 2006
ISBN-10: 0977810305
ISBN-13: 978-0977810307
Paperback: 124 pages
List Price: $9.95 (Paperback)
E-Book: $3.99 (PDF)
E-Book: $3.99 (EPUB)


MEET DIVINE: female, thirty-seven, slaphappy, young at heart, self-employed; an online newbie, living in New York. She is fresh out of a long-term relationship and has completed the two-year mandatory wound-licking I-hate-men mourning period. Unfortunately for Divine, someone neglected to inform her that dating has been upgraded to new millennium level. But maybe she shouldn’t worry…hemlines aren’t the only things that have gone up.Thirty-somethings are premium dating material now…at least for the twenty-year-oldsDivine’s experiences are the basis for the serial memoir I call “Age Is Just a Number,” a lens through which to view the world of online dating.

About the Author:

Her motto: I am who I am by the grace of God

An avid reader, D.S. White is the former proprietor of an online African-American bookstore and wholesale dealership. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a back up plan for 9/11/01.

She is the divorced mother of a fabulous 21-year-old who is in her senior year at the University of Pennsylvania. D.S. White loves traveling but most of it to date has been done within the pages of a book. While planning that mother/daughter trip in the distant future, she’s tried her hand at acting, singing, dancing, modeling, cosmetology and sales.

A budding wordsmith, she has few credits to date which opened her eyes to the need for a place where writers of color could congregate, a Water Cooler, if you will. There writers of all levels of experience can find awards, contests, markets, scholarships and more, specifically geared to writers of color.

Aware of the need for reading material which accurately reflects the look and mindset of the person of color, she decided to do her part to facilitate the same. If you remember nothing else from her bio, remember that she loves God and is always happy to share what He’s done in and for her life.

Read an Excerpt:

Purchase a Copy: (Kindle Edition)
IntroductionBarnes and Noble: (Nook Book)
Part I: 

Read a Review:

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

A Star is Born! - Part 2

Hi Folks,

I've just received an email from the director of the library. She will be placing an order for a copy of AIJAN tonight! Yeeee hawwwww!

In addition, the bottom of this post states that upon joining the mailing list your newsletter will contain the "secret site's" URL. That information has changed. Your finding the site has now become part of a three-day CONTEST:

See the latest newsletter and don't forget to subscribe! You gotta be in it to win it!

Yeah, I know ... I borrowed.


Sunday, September 10, 2006

A Star is Born!

Or something like that... LOL.

Hey people,

I'm iz back and have I got updates for you!

Well... updates and a little begging. The juice is loose! Not really, I
just had an all nighter so I'm loopy.

Now, now... think nice thoughts--I was typing and quite vertical, thank you verree much! LOL.

Anyways, the pic above is the final cover of AIJAN and as of last Thursday, I gave the printer the okay on my finalized proof and copies are being printed as we speak. The book is also available on Amazon, although my release date is not till September 15th ... grrrrr... but I'm too tired to fight with anyone right now.

Btw... I finally figured out what I wanna be when I grow up! A preaching author who does social work to pay her bills! Whaddaya think? LOL.

Seriously though, I'm doing a Temp gig at a children's agency and I'd say the timing was God's way of pointing me in the right direction. (Pardon me, if I'm rambling.)

Now to play catch-up, here are some links to posts written in the past month--If you're on one of my numerous mailing lists you will have seen one or two of the posts, but if not--grab a cup of coffee or your poison of choice and settle down for a bit of a read:

So there you have it ... all caught up now.

It's been a slow couple of months writing wise for me. What with bipolar overload, spates of connectivity loss and the finalizing of project AIJAN. Guess what? The work has only just begun!

Btw... did I mention that the Borders in my town will be carrying the book?

Yup, yup--I called them up and once I said the word local author it was on!

The library will also be ordering a couple of copies. I went by and I must shamefacedly admit that I was biased--I assumed that because the staff member I approached was Caucasian I'd have to do a hard sell. I forgot where I was--in a library with folks who love books ... period.

Once I said the word author, you would have thought I said Jesus! She ran off to get the director of the library and the next thing I knew I was autographing a copy of the book and promising to participate in a possible upcoming local author's do. I'm just so tickled pink!

So yeah... maybe I would do it all over again, just to experience that moment--maybe.

Thanks so much for all your patience and support. Oh, and I almost forgot: if y'all would start calling up your neighborhood bookstores/libraries and requesting AIJAN and acting REAL surprised when they don't have it. I'd love it a lot!

Now for the information I know y'all have been waiting for: where you can get AIJAN and how much of a discount you're going to get after waiting so patiently?

Well I've a standard 15% discount running for the general public; but for members of my lists I've created a secret site (as secret as a site can be on the Internet ... LOL) with special discounts and FREE reads and downloads. If you'd like to save an additional 5% and be privy to excerpts of my works in progress, join any one of my lists and you'll receive your copy of the newsletter within twenty-four (24) hours with the URL to the "secret site".

Yeah, yeah ... I know ... much drama, but cut me some slack I'm feeling mighty special right now--and that's special without the quotation marks ... LOL.

Peace and blessings,

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Queens Book Fair Update & New Author Shoutout

Good Morning Folks!

The Queens Book Fair went off without a hitch last Saturday. It was held in the lovely but sandy Rufus King Park. The sponsors Carol and Brenda of C&B Books Distribution, did it up nicely with an act that totally floored me: they'd purchased tents for each of the authors.

Although admittedly a smaller affair than the Harlem Book Fair, which I attended last month, I must say that it was a much more enjoyable experience for me.

The traffic was slower, which was not a bad thing, since it was just me manning my table. However, I practically emptied out my supply of handouts to browsers as well as to fellow authors.

My table was situated between Faye Thompson, author of In her Mother's Shadow and Bea Joyner, author of A Taste of Things to Come and Don't Need No Soaps, My Life is Soap Enough! two gracious women. It was a bit of a downer to not have any books to sell and at first the old green-eyed monster reared its ugly head as Faye proceeded to enthusiastically sign books for her fans. However, as the day progressed, I regained my perspective and began to enjoy her moment almost as much as she did.

After a while, with her mom's vigilant eye on my table, I was free to make my way around to the other tables to do what I love to do best: browse books, meet the authors who wrote them and obtain contact information to stay in touch and to give them a shout out!

So please bookmark this page and check back often as I commence my shoutouts. In the next few weeks I'll be introducing you to some rich and resonant voices starting with today's at age twelve.

Yes, age twelve. That would be Zykeya McLeod. A twelve-year-old author I was blessed to meet. I don't know if I was more flabbergasted at her age or her topic, but I was so proud, you would
have sworn that I was her mama. Her book, An Inner Child Speaks, deals with physical abuse. I found it to be a well-written, poignant, yet down-to-earth book, which begs for a sequel. (Hint, hint)

I also had a lovely conversation with Zykeya and her mother and promised to help get the word out about Zykeya's accomplishment as well at the topic which gels so closely with mine. I've two things in the works, on their behalf, but I
don't want to tip my hand until I get things nailed down, but do give them your support and be sure to tell them that Dee sent you. (By the way... when I say support... I was kinda talking about moving past the "Oh my! How wonderful" right on the, "I'll have one to go please."

Let's show that we know how to support our community--especially those hurting amongst us.

Till next time.


Wednesday, August 16, 2006

What Jogs Your Memory?

Good Morning People!

Singing: We made it! We survived... errr... da da dum, dum

Yeah, yeah I don't remember the rest of the words. I just know it's a gospel song from a bootleg CD ... ahem... CD I bought and those words describe exactly how I feel at this point in time.

Which reminds me of a question I'd meant to ask y'all a while back but before I do, do we have any "Living Single" fans in the house?

If so, do y'all remember Max? (played by actress Erica Alexander). The eat-too-durn-much-a-holic? It cracked me up in one episode when Khadijah (played by actress/model/songstress Queen Latifah) asked Max if she remembered a certain incident.

Max's initial response was no. Then Khadijah mentioned what Max was eating at the time and presto--her recollection of that moment in time was a miraculous thing.

Well, most of my memories are connected to music. I've been singing all my life and in fact, were it not for music I would not be here, much less the devout Christian I am today. There was a time when my life was so rife with strife that I had a hard time hearing the Word. I mean, who wanted to hear the Words of a God who allowed, wife beating, daddies who slept with their daughters and boys who kept going when you said stop? Oh come on now, I know someone out there knows what I'm talking about. The loss of hope, the feeling of worthlessness, the lack of friends because we push everyone away to ensure continued secrecy?[i]

Well--as soon as a preacher began to preach--I was present in body but absent in mind. But not so with music. The choir could sing all it wanted and that was enough of a sermon for me. I believe that is the very essence of and, to me, explains the universal appeal of music. It has the ability to go where no man has gone before. It is Godlike in its ability to reach down into the depths of our very being and melt a hardened heart, comfort a bruised spirit and soothe a chaotic mind.

I'd often say to all and sundry, "It's a wonder that I'm here today," or "I don't know how I made it." But in retrospect I knew--I just didn't know that I knew. Unable to reach me by spoken Word, God who is the Word, reached my by the constant repetition of Word wrapped in lyrics and accompanied by musical instruments was able to keep my demons at bay and imbue me with the strength needed to survive as well as plant a seed of hope which one day was watered by the spoken Word that I was finally willing and ready to hear.[ii]

Today, when I hear certain songs like:

Here and Now: It swoops me smack dab into the memory of my favorite sister's wedding. I had the honor of singing it. But above all that I remember her trembling but taking that huge step head held high, but what garnered my attention most was my brother-in-law, big strong
strapping ex-football player weeping unashamedly--in public! That was not a thing of my experience. Upon viewing that sensitivity, I think that's the moment we connected and what has enabled us to be close friends, family and eventually mentor (him) and mentee (me). But that's another issue.

Low in the Grave He Lay: Pulls me straight back to my homeland, Trinidad and Tobago in the West Indies.

I peered through the dusk at the scene which drew the focus of all present--the sight of a blindfolded man clad in white shirt and pants, being submerged in the water. I recall thinking that it seemed as though Elder had a tempo going. Wave one, wave two, wave three--submerge, resurrect, turn to the congregation, glare and demand, "Why aren't you singing? Sing!" Then assured of blind obedience he'd turn around and reach for the next candidate for baptism being ushered his way.

As I looked longingly at the boy, a relative of Elder's, who was allowed to sleep, the white clad members of the congregation renewed their efforts at singing Low in the Grave He Lay, the song that later explained to me the symbolism of the candidates being submerged in the cold surf and resurrected one after the other at that godforsaken hour of the morning. But at that point in time, all I could wonder was, Don't they know another song? How come he gets to sleep and I have to stay awake? Shucks there's another mosquito. Yeeech, this sand is sooo cold and it's all between my toes... Are we done yet![iii]

Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen: Wings me once again to the land of my birth and a clear cut vision of my eight or nine-year-old self, up under the house[iv] mumbling to myself in between stifled sobs and hiccups, When I get older I'm gonna leave this place and these mean people[v] behind. Always beating people, as if they her mother. My mammy's not here. She's in America. I don't see why I have to empty and wash the stupid poseys[vi] anyways. I'm the youngest and if I can hold it all night how come they can't? I'm going to stay here all day and not come out--that'll show them!

The Long and Winding Road: Transports me to the sense of accomplishment and belonging I felt at the eighth grade choir competition when our secret weapon (thirteen year old Tommy with a head full of red hair and a tenor to die for) stepped up to the microphone and flawlessly sang, "Many times I've been alone and many times I've cried, anyway you'll never know the many times I've tried" As though rehearsed, the audience rose for a standing ovation and we were awarded straight 1's. As he rounded our excited group up to board our bus for the trip back to our school, my eyes couldn't help but take in the huge first place trophy he held protectively (or was it possessively?) in his grasp.

Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me: Gives me goose bumps as I remember a balmy summer night back in 1988: my ex-fiancé and I singing along with the radio and singing to each other as we sat in his bright yellow Toyota in the parking lot at the beach. I can't remember who was Elton John and who was George Michael, but I remember thinking, Yes! This is the one, he's on key, knows all the words and is actually singing them to me! This is soooo romantic! I might even...

Okay now y'all didn't think I was gonna finish that thought did ya? LOL.

Now don't make me think that the mythical character Max and I are the only ones with memory joggers. What jogs your memory?

[i] If dealing with this situation please use this link to get help.

[ii] Which is why it is so important that we guard our souls. Guard our souls you ask? Yes. We need to take stock of what we hear constantly, what may seem harmless, funny even. Because whether we realize it or not, what we hear constantly becomes a seed planted in us that can later be watered. Our soul has no filter it just ingests data and the filter then becomes our connection with the Holy Spirit. The more we submit to the leading of the Holy Spirit the more we are able to filter out the unwanted data, however if there's little or no connection with the Holy Spirit, then our unawakened spirit has a whole lotta work to do trying to filter unwanted data on its own.

[iii] Oh wow! Lightbulb! I think I just connected my aversion to the beach and sand between my toes to this memory as its source. Phewww... that's why I love this business of writing.
The island’s uneven terrain had most houses on stilts.

[v] My sisters … LOL

[vi] Also known as the chamber pot. Indoor plumbing was not yet prevalent.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Queens Book Fair

I will be attending the Queens Book Fair on August 19th in Queens, New York. The timing is perfect because it will be four days after the official release of AIJAN (and my 41st birthday). To celebrate both I've set up a new discount opportunity.

Now call me prejudiced and in this instance I must say that I am, based on the fact that I was the proprietor on an online bookstore. It grieved me dearly to go out of business because I know for a fact that there were enough African Americans out there to keep me in business for years to come--yet it seemed as though they preferred to spend their dollars elsewhere.

I now know that it was really not a part of God's plan for me to continue as a bookstore proprietor but a part of His preparation process for my authorship. But the part of me that still whispers at night "I coulda been a contender" feels strongly about African American dollars going towards African American businesses. So to that end I've partnered with the proprietor of The Book ClubHouse, an independent bookseller, so that members of my lists may purchase AIJAN for $10.75 (less additional discount with special coupon code "queens06" at checkout making the cost $9.88 + $1.75 Standard S/H = $11.63 Total Cost).

NOTE: Coupon code expires August 31, 2006.

For those of you in New York:

Want to reserve it and purchase it autographed at the Queens Book Fair?

First 1-20 people to reserve a copy: $8.96 (25% off)
First 21-40 people to reserve a copy: $9.20 (23% off)
First 41-60 people to reserve a copy: $9.56 (20% off)

Remember ... the early bird gets the best discount!


Tuesday, August 01, 2006

A Bit of "Dear Abby" Humor

I received the following post in one of my Yahoo groups today. Now although it states that these are real letters received by Dear Abby ... I really didn't attempt to verify for the fact they're more hilarious than serious--Enjoy!

to share?? Reply with answers.

Dear Abby,

A couple of women moved in across the hall from me. One is a middle-aged gym teacher and the other is a social worker in her mid twenties. These two women go everywhere together and I've never seen a man go into or leave their apartment. Do you think they could be Lebanese?

Dear Abby,
What can I do about all the Sex, Nudity, Fowl Language and Violence On My VCR?

Dear Abby,
I have a man I can't trust. He cheats so much, I'm not even sure the baby I'm carrying is his.

Dear Abby,
I am a twenty-three year old liberated woman who has been on the pill for two
years. It's getting expensive and I think my boy friend should share half the cost, but I don't know him well enough to discuss money with him.

Dear Abby,
I've suspected that my husband has been fooling around, and when confronted with the evidence, he denied everything and said it would never happen again.

Dear Abby,
Our son writes that he is taking Judo. Why would a boy who was raised in a good Christian home turn against his own?

Dear Abby,
I joined the Navy to see the world. I've seen it. Now how do I get out?

Dear Abby,
My forty year old son has been paying a psychiatrist $50.00 an hour every eek for two and a half years. He must be crazy.

Dear Abby,
I was married to Bill for three months and I didn't know he drank until one night he came home sober.

Dear Abby,
My mother is mean and short tempered. I think she is going through mental pause.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Contest Winner!

We have a winner!

Dana of Springhill, Louisiana is the lucky winner of a copy of Girls Most Likely by Sheila Williams.

Thanks to everyone for your participation stay tuned for the next contest for subscribers of my lists. Not yet a subscriber? Well you know what they say ... you've got to be in it to win it!

Stay tuned for the next contest.


Saturday, July 22, 2006

Harlem Book Fair Update - Part 2

Hi again folks,

The angst is over and I've finally received my location. I'll be at NW60 on the site map, between Lenox and Fifth Avenue. My cell # is 484-951-1445 (now... don't make me have to hurt nobody!) and y'all should know what I look like by now... but just in case, here are some mug shots ... LOL.

With makeup:

And without makeup:

Come on over and introduce yourself when you get there. If you tell me you got this special invite, I'll have a special discount just for you!


Friday, July 21, 2006

Looking for a Few Good Men ... and Women


Here's something I received through one of my Yahoo groups that might be of interest to you and forwarding is permissible:

Hello Friends-

I need black men and women. Period.

I put this email out before and got tepid response. I am producing and co-hosting a show (with Ron Claiborne)on ABC News Now that is as yet untitled. It's a public
affairs show for black people... BUT? it is not done in the conventional ABC News way. It is meant to replicate the kinds of conversations that we have when we get
together in the church parking lot, beauty shop, barbershop, dinner table, playing spades? whatever. It will be the TV version of a typical black conversation about current events, music, sports, pop culture, news? With all the energy and bravado, minus the four letter words. To give you an example of what we talk about? During our first two pilots we addressed: Blacks and Immigration, the Duke LaCrosse rape case, Baby Daddies and Baby Mamas, Colin Powel or Condeleeza Rice for President etc.

So I'm putting together a list of potential guests. My first show tapes this Friday and every other Friday at 3:30pm. I don't need any experts. We all know someone
who can turn a conversation into an argument? Besides me!

I just want regular black folks but I'll also take artists, authors, CEO's, professionals.. (Uptight people who are charmed by their own intellect need not respond). If you know someone in NYC who is intelligent, up-on-current-events, witty, lively, funny, opinionated and black -- male or female -- please have them get in touch with me via email. Or send their contact information and I will get in touch with them.

Or if you can or want to be on a future show yourself, please speak up too. (Some of you are definitely qualified). I am really struggling to find SISTERS.

We always complain that there aren't enough on mainstream media about us and for us so here's one. I need all your support to sustain it.

Thank you.


(212) 456 3746

Harlem Book Fair Update

(See Also - Harlem Update Part 2)

Well, it's two days away from the Harlem Book Fair and I'm beset with a mix of expectancy (expecting 50,000 people), dread (it's supposed to be Africa hot out there) and doubt (little gremlin at the back of my head has been working overtime today, "Who wants to read your stuff anyways? There'll be real authors there!" (Now this is the part where y'all fly immediately to your email client of choice and email me reassurances that I'm the next Nora Zeale Thurston, or the next E. Lynn Garris or the next Walter Bosely... LOL).

Oh and did I mention the best part? I'll be sleeping over at the ex's apartment where my daughter is currently staying for the summer and he will also have his daughter for the weekend. I'm not even there yet and I have had a headache trying to think of the easiest way to make this weekend work out positively.

I keep reminding myself that I have grown and as such I can do this and old triggers will not work with me. But even as I type my cell phone is blaring and guess who's on the other end? The ex to belabor the point of what we've discussed repeatedly which he will proceed to get wrong anyways ... so I think I'll pass on the pickup right now.

I know, I know... just when I had y'all thinking I had my stuff together... I go ahead and prove that I'm as messed up as the rest of the planet. LOL.

This is why I write creative non-fiction. With my life ... who needs to imagine stuff?

Seriously though, I know myself and honestly ... the ex is not the problem and never has been. As anal as the ex can be--this angst is about my finally having come to the point of realizing a dream that's been twenty-four years in the making.

A dream that I've wanted so much that I've deferred it, even went so far as to forget it. At first because of fear of failure, then as I began to realize the possibilities--for fear of success. You see, I've always had something or someone to blame: my work, the ex, my mom, my daughter, abuse, bipolar disorder, migraines, church people and even ... God.

One by one, God has done away with every excuse I'd carefully compiled and now the ball is in my court and as if I hear the words directed at me as had been directed at his disciples, "Who men say that I am?"

A question to which I have answered by rote, "Jehovah Jireh, my provider".

And then He asked, "Who do you say I am?"

A question to which I have answered by rote, "Jehovah Jireh, my provider". In the silence, which I take for dissatisfaction with my answer. I am forced to pause and think about it... Okay, who are You ... really?

The one who saved me from myself;
The one who loved me when I didn't love myself;
The one who died so that I could live forever;
The one who understands when I cry out in the dead of night;
The one I take for granted--the Christ, the Son of the living God.

As He said to Peter, "Flesh and blood has not told you this but my father has revealed this to you. "

To which I answer--"So true."

But you know what? Knowing the answer and living the answer are two different things and I find myself, more often than not lately, being called out--by my very own self to follow through or act upon, if you will--what I say I believe, what I know.

Then I'm forced to go a step further to consider ... what do my words and actions say that I know about God?

So now what it boils down to is ... am I going to give in to the fear of success that I've allowed to plague my life or am I going to trust and act upon God's word that says "I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you, give you hope and a new future?"

Stay tuned...


Thursday, July 20, 2006

Dee's Announcement List

Hi Folks,

I'm still trying to get organized, and I've come up with what I think is a brilliant plan to stay on top of thoughts as they occur, news as it occurs, treats to be offered and the like.

So I've created an announcement lis t... I think it's kind of pretty too. You know me ... it's gotta be cute. LOL. I "borrowed" the template from FA Goodwin--a fellow author whose book was announced in the first issue of my Reviews newsletter.

I don't want to spoil my own announcement, so read the actual announcement first hand and if you're not yet a subscriber, get on board--subscribe here.

Til next time,

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Summer Book Scavenger Hunt!

Hi Folks,

Have I got a gift for you! A chance to test your Internet savvy and win some books as well.

Fellow author, Trista Russell of sponsors three separate scavenger hunts. Forty authors, forty books and three chances to win!

The only stipulation, you must join her mailing list in order to participate. So hurry up and join and happy hunting to ya!


Summer Book Scavenger Hunts

The scavenger hunts will be held on:

July 12th, August 16th, and September 13th

Participants will search the Internet to answer the 20 questions that will be listed below (websites will be provided with the questions) on July 12th and also sent via e-mail in the Ebony Authors newsletter. The first person to return to this webpage and enter all of the correct answers will receive 10 books. The second person will receive 3 books, and the third 2 books. All books are signed and will be mailed directly from the authors. Books titles and authors listed below.


#1 You must be on the mailing list to participate. If not,
click here to join!

Scavenger Hunts Book List

  • A Dream Come True, by Michael T. Owens

  • Age is Just a Number: Adventures in Online Dating, by D.S. White

  • Backroom Confessions, by Rose Jackson-Beavers

  • Blind Temptations, by Lesley Hal

  • Caught Up, by Deatri

  • Changing Faces, Changing places, by Sydney Molare

  • Daddy's Girl, by Linda D. Wattley

  • Devil In The Mist, by Diane Dorce

  • Diary of a Street Diva, by Ashley Jaquavis

  • Dirt Ball Bad, by Lesley Nowlin

  • Dirty Little Secrets, by Joy King

  • Every Woman Needs a Wife, by Lissa Woodson

  • Fatal Desire, by Jessica Tilles

  • Going Broke, by Trista Russell

  • How to Get Over Him and Learn From Your Mistakes, by Honilovee

  • If I Ruled the World, by Joylynn Jossel

  • KARMA, by Hashim Conner

  • Lawd Mo Drama, by Tina McKinney

  • Love Me Carefully, by A.C. Arthur

  • Love, Pleasure and Pain, by Corlis Martin

  • Make You Love Me, by Latonya Williams

  • Mistaken Identity, by Sylvia Hubbard

  • Mode One: Let The Women Know What You're REALLY Thinking, by Alan Roger Currie

  • My Invisible Husband, by Shelia Goss

  • My Woman His Wife, by Anna J

  • Peace In The Storm, by Elissa Gabrielle

  • Second Time Shame on Me, by Erica N. Martin

  • Sooner or Later, by Cheryl Talley Moss

  • The Art of Walking through Fires, by Beverly Welch

  • The Mayor's Wife Wore Sapphires, by Marti Tucker

  • The Party, by Saundra E. Harris

  • The Product, by Marcus A. Parker

  • The Rotation, by Jackie Young

  • The Roux in the Gumbo, by Kim Robinson

  • Two's Enough Three's A Crowd, by Brenda M. Hampton

  • When Death Comes a Knockin', by Vanessa Johnson

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Girls Most Likely: A Novel

by Sheila Williams
Published by One World/Ballantine

paperback US$13.95
ISBN: 0345464761

About the book:
"We didn't know then that the dramas we imagined weren't even warm-ups for what real life held for us."

From the fifth grade to their fifth decade, Vaughn, Reenie, Susan, and Audrey have shared secrets and dreamed dreams -- their lives connected like silk threads through rich fabric, pulling but never breaking at life's unexpected twists and turns. Meet the girls most likely

To Write the Great American Novel: Vaughn has a flair for words that makes her the unofficial diplomat of the foursome. She's great at keeping it together for everybody -- but herself.

To Marry a Prince: Sassy Reenie can break hearts as easily as she can take out a bully without breaking a nail. But her live-for-today attitude leads to a tragic mistake that will haunt the girls for years.

To be Famous: From the ashes of a ravaged home life, amid rumors and bad feelings, Susan rises to fame as a glamorous network anchorwoman, proving that success is the best revenge. But forgiveness is another matter.

To Run the World: Audrey is the ultimate overachiever, but this takes a devastating toll on her health, her career, and her family. Perfection is a race where the finish line keeps moving. What will she sacrifice to win?

Girls Most Likely is an emotional, uplifting, often hilarious glimpse into the lives of today's ever-changing African American women, sustained by love, laughter, and sisterhood.

Read an excerpt

About the author:
Sheila J. Williams was born in Columbus, Ohio. She attended Ohio Wesleyan University and is a graduate of the University of Louisville in Louisville, Kentucky. Sheila and her husband live in northern Kentucky.

For more information, please visit the author's Web site at

Excerpt: Girls Most Likely


I thought that I was fearless until the piece of paper that every sane adult over forty dreads arrived in my mailbox on a June afternoon: the invitation to my thirtieth high school class reunion


TIME: 7:00 P.M. UNTIL ???

Damn it! I said to myself, fingering the white envelope trimmed in purple. I wondered if the French Foreign Legion was still in existence. I hadn't used my high school French in over twenty years but there were refresher courses. Maybe it wasn't too late to join the Witness Protection Program.

Why, for God's sake, the Imperial Arms? It had seen better days. Like forty years ago. And the buffet wasn't that good even then.

You have some choices, my conscience advised. You can kill yourself now or mark the envelope "Addressee Unknown" and drop it into the mailbox . . . or you could go.

Oh grow up, I answered back. What's wrong with suicide?

I would be fifty in a couple of years so I figured there weren't many things left in the world that could really scare me. After all, I was on my second marriage. I was not afraid of the dark -- I outgrew that when I was four. I will admit that I am the only mom who sits at the bottom of the bleachers at my son's football games. Heights make me queasy. And yes, cancer and Alzheimer's worry me. So I eat broccoli and do crossword puzzles to keep the gray cells from getting squishy. But other than that, I thought I was fearless. But there's nothing like the invitation to your thirtieth high school reunion to put ice cubes in your intestines.

Maybe I could run away from home.

"Hey! What's up?" My son, Keith, or "Jaws" as we call him because of his feeding habits, joined me in the hallway. He was chomping on an apple, talking with his mouth full, and holding a jar of peanut butter in one hand. Life was normal.

"What's with the psychedelic envelope?" he asked, with a burst of laughter in his voice. Bits of apple went everywhere.

"High school reunion," I answered. "And clean up that mess!"

"Ho, ho! How many years is it, Mom? Thirty-five? Forty?"

"Thirty, thank you. Get it right," I retorted.

"You're old."

"If you don't watch it, I'll stop feeding you," I warned him.

"Purple Tigers? Oh, this ought to be good. You old-school fogies limping around the dance floor to Al Green . . ."

"No, the Temptations, Sly and the Family Stone, Earth, Wind and Fire," I countered. I was remembering the wonderful music. "And there isn't anything 'old school' about it. It's just real music where people actually play the instruments. You know, musical instruments? Saxophones, trumpets, guitars?"

Keith shook his head and took another monstrous bite.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You're going, right?" He patted me on the top of my head.

One of the lovely things about having a nearly grown son is that when he gets to be taller than you are, he treats you like an armrest.

"Go away, shoo," I said, pushing his two-hundred-pound frame toward the kitchen where it belonged. "Don't forget we have to talk about that football camp this evening. Oh, and that girl called again." I call her "that girl" because she has one of those amazing names that I can't pronounce. "La" on the front end and an "ishelle" on the back end. As my great-grandmother would say, "Mercy!"

"OK, but you should go, Ma. You don't look too bad for an old lady. A little short but . . ."

I love compliments.

"Beat it before I throw something at you," I yelled after him.

I looked at the invitation again.

Had it really been thirty years? It seemed like only yesterday that I had nearly been suspended for . . . Now I was sounding like an old-school fogy. Of course, it had been thirty years. I'd been to college, married, had two babies, divorced, married again, had one more baby; worked at three companies, one university, and one junior college; done innumerable loads of laundry, been a room mother three hundred times, cheered soccer, football, and volleyball games; and made more chili and Rice Krispies treats than I care to think about. Not to mention the gray hair that I religiously color every four weeks and the extra ten pounds I was carrying around -- OK, fifteen pounds.

Oh, yes, and those babies grew up. Becca was in San Francisco preparing to make me a grandmother. Yikes! Candace had just finished her master's degree and was spending the summer in Italy. Keith was headed toward his senior year in high school.

And there were the other things.

Thirty years ago my parents still lived on Greenway Avenue in a little beige stucco house. Our German shepherd, Ranger, held court in the backyard and Mrs. Adams poked her nose over the fence complaining about his barking. My oldest sister, Pat, would have been in the bathroom in front of the mirror combing her hair this way and that. My youngest sister, Jean, would have been in the window seat, coloring. Grandma Jane lived on the next block; the Methodist minister lived around the corner.

Time didn't march on, it flew at light speed. Dad was gone now, and Mother sold the little house and lived in a condo on the other side of town. Pat and her family live in Denver and Jean is stationed in Washington, D.C. My baby sister is a major in the U.S. Army. Grandma's gone, the reverend is gone, and Ranger was the third of several dogs by the same name, all of which were buried with pomp and circumstance and heartfelt tears in the backyard beneath the old maple tree.

Thank God for the memories. My high school yearbooks rest on top of the bookshelf in the family room. Keith leafs through them and makes fun of the way we dressed "back in the olden days," especially our afros. Of course, everything comes back, and now that bell-bottoms are on the runways in New York, my long-haired son looks at my high school picture with more respect. We were trendsetters.

I pick up the book from 1971, which is my favorite year. I flip through it whenever I want to feel good. It's like a worn house slipper, completely broken in. It is like meat loaf and mashed potatoes made with whole milk and butter. And I always open it to the same page. There we are. It's the picture of the National Honor Society and we're standing in the front row: me, Audrey, Reenie, and Su -- best friends since elementary and junior high school. Inseparable. We are wearing plaid jumpers with pleated skirts, V-neck sweaters, and knee socks. Cheerleader skirts. Afros and hooped earrings. Dashikis. And smiles. Lots and lots of smiles, real ones. Life was full of possibilities then.

On the day we graduated we promised to stay in touch, but we scattered. Our times together grew further apart but were no less cherished. And I think all of us would agree that the times we spent together growing up were some of the best times of our lives. Those were the days when we weren't afraid to experiment or make mistakes. Those were the days before our lives would need revision, before our souls would need restoration. Those were the days before we learned that we wouldn't live forever, the days before regrets. And, in many ways, those were the last days that we had friendships so close that our skins inhaled the fibers of the mohair sweaters we borrowed from one another.

Irene, Audrey, and Susan were the girls I grew up with. The girls who turned the double-Dutch ropes when I was nine, who invited me to their slumber parties and told me their secrets, some of which I've kept to this day. In high school, they got their own page in the yearbook because they were the "girls most likely": to succeed, to marry a millionaire, to be rich and famous, and to negotiate world peace. They were the girls most likely to do everything wonderful. I was on the fringes of their lives, basking in the reflection of their friendship and taking advantage of the benefits that came with being seen with them.

We were born in the early fifties. Our mothers named us after their favorite movie stars: Susan Hayward, Irene Dunne, and Audrey Hepburn. And like the screen queens, we were told to behave ourselves and do what was expected of us: white gloves and a hat to church on Sunday; Fisk, Spelman, or Howard; a "good" job teaching school or working for the government (thirty years in and a pension out), or, God willing, marry a doctor and not have to work at all. Of course, we were colored then and things were changing in the world.

Excerpt from GIRLS MOST LIKELY by Sheila Williams. Copyright Sheila Williams; published by arrangement with One World/Ballantine Books (on-sale July 25, 2006; $13.95)

For more information, please visit the author's Web site at

Thursday, June 29, 2006

E-book & Affiliate Program in the Hizzouse!

Hello Folks,

I'm just so thrilled I could burst! I've just turned the second half of my print book into an E-book (all by my little self). I first got the idea from another author in one of my Yahoo Groups when she announced her books on the bestsellers list.

I have submitted my book to the same publisher she uses and it has been accepted, and will be available soon. Then I got impatient and I got to thinking ... ummm ... why can't you do that for yourself as well?

So I fiddled and fretted, and deleted and uploaded, and amended and created and finally ... Look! In your inbox ... it's a bird, no ... a plane ... nope ... it's ... Age is Just a Number: Adventures in Online Dating--all 90 pages of it!

To view the table of contents, read excerpts, place your order, or find out more information about the E-book affiliate program please click here.

Reviews and comments about errors or downright snafus are always welcome.


Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Here It Is!

Here's the Book! This is the book that houses my poem: The Strong Black Woman is Dead! Or Is She?

I received an additional email from Sara of BlackExpressions and it was mailed out two days ago. It should be here by the weekend. I'll let you know the verdict as soon as I gobble it up. But in case you can't wait either... here it is:

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Trouble Don't Last Always

I know by its very definition, the word surprise means that something unexpected happens, but as we both know, surprises can be good, bad, or indifferent.

By 10 a.m. today I’d had three surprises; and get this—they were all good, great even!

That was in total opposition to my day yesterday. When:

  • The phone wouldn’t stop ringing,

  • Notes were making nests on my desk; and

  • I didn’t leave the office until the cleaners came. And the song in my soul was, Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen

Well today:

  • My boss brought me some of her famous baked ziti. (Y’all know how I love Italian food)

  • She also told me I could leave early; and

  • I received an email from Sara at Black Expression 2005 (Yahoo Writers Group) with fabulous news!

It went like this:

Dear Dee,

Your poem titled: "The Strong Woman is Not Dead" is included in our anthology.

Please send us an address to mail it to you.


My decorous response:


Yeeee hawwwww!

What a lovely surprise!

My mailing address is:

D.S. White
P.O. Box 145
Whitehall, PA 18052-0145

Thanks for the great news Sara.


Although the little gremlin on my left shoulder tried to bring up the fact that the title of the poem was actually "The Strong Black Woman Is Dead! Or Is She?" I treated it like my alarm clock and beat it into submission, while I continued doing a dance of joy and thought to myself, trouble truly don’t last always.

Thursday, May 18, 2006


Born 40 years ago in the Republic of Trinidad & Tobago through the power of prayer, Dee's life has not always been easy. But had someone told her years ago that her name Diane meant Divine, it might have saved her a lot of the time she spent thinking up ways to "fit in".

A strong black woman, Dee has realized forgiveness is essential to achieve the peace she has sought all her life. She has come to terms with the angst of her birth and realizes even her name has purpose in God's eyes. She's real enough to admit that some of her limitations in life were self-induced. She's not ashamed to admit she's not perfect, and at times may need to be lovingly reminded that "It's not about you!" But she prays she will always surround herself with people who will hold her accountable to the need to have and show compassion.

Her first blook (book based on a blog) Age is Just a Number, will be released June 1, 2006. Pre-orders available at Amazon, ATWC Books, Barnes and Noble and The Book ClubHouse. (Utilize the discount code housecode at checkout to receive an additional 10% off until May 31, 2006.)

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

Introducing Cover No. 4

No, this cover will not replace cover number three, but it will work in conjunction with cover number three. Not one to give up easily when I have a thought in mind, I recalled a book format that I've come across from time to time.

In that format two entire books would be printed in one volume and both would have their covers, the catch?

The second book's cover would be smack dab in the middle of the book. A book, within a book, so to speak, I often thought it was pretty neat, because I like to have visuals to match the words I'm reading. But maybe that's just me?

I'm not quite sure how I feel about all the aqua, but it would be in greyscale anyway, so that's not really an issue. I just like the concept.

Anyway... there you have it. My brilliant solution--for today.

What are your thoughts?

Virtual Tales

The now defunct serial website, has a successor-- due to start on May 1st.

I've been brainstorming, since this edition will include roughly 20 episodes, (14 more episodes than the first edition) and the story will be nowhere near finished anytime soon. I'm considering selling the serial rights to so that those interested can get the continuation of the story (for a fee of $3.99 a month, which equals 8 episodes or about 24 pages of reading material a month).

Thoughts anyone?

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Part I


Monday, August 16, 2004, 7:20 a.m.

I scribble furiously from the first-row corner seat aboard Lantabus Metro. I'm anxious to capture the thoughts and words as they come, honestly, naturally. As I write, I wonder how I ever made it to this point.

A little over three years ago, I quit a well-paying, soul-destroying job in title insurance. Around the same time, I discovered my fiance's impending fatherhood, which he credited to my decision to reclaim my virginity until our wedding in six months. (I guess he took my urge not to merge harder than I thought.) On the spiritual side, since I'd been too busy coping with life to pick up the internal phone, God sent a messenger to tell me that my services were required as preacher, teacher, and mentor extraordinaire.

Aside from a daily struggle with depression and a weight gain of thirty pounds, I thought I was pretty much taking it all in stride. Then, due to unforeseen circumstances, my landlord gave me forty-five days notice to vacate my apartment. Again, sudden changes ordinarily wouldn't faze me. I've been a long time subscriber to the "life happens" train of thought. But for the self-employed, apartment hunting is not a cakewalk. Add defunct child support payments, an elderly parent with special needs, a growing teenager, and my New York City location to the equation, and I'm sure you can understand my dilemma.

I "remained calm" even though my life was the equivalent of a five-alarm fire. I was on a forty day fast at the time, so I knew God had my back. I was even bold enough to tell God, "This one's on you." Nevertheless, I was ripe for a distraction, a diversion, a denial facilitator: some kind of heavy-duty mode of escapism.

And wouldn' t you know it--I found one!

My journal remembers..

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Saturday, March 15, 2003, 5:00 a.m.

I hit the jackpot last night! I'd just returned from choir rehearsal and was unwinding with a copy of Ebony Magazine when I came across an article about two couples. One couple is newlywed; the other is newly engaged. I know, I know--what's so remarkable about that? Let me finish. Both couples met each other online through dating Web sites! Go figure. I didn't even know dating Web sites existed! I love technology!

According to the article, the couples "met" online and, despite the sad rap that the Internet has for unsuccessful connections, they managed to beat the odds. Residing in different states seemed not to pose a problem for them. As I processed the article's information, my heart began to race and I experienced a certain sense of exhilaration. In my mind's eye I fast-forwarded straight to the culmination of a successful connection for myself.

Me, Divine, walking down (or is it up?) the aisle, wearing a beautiful buttercup-yellow , empire style gown, with a rip away skirt for dancing and showing off my jump-back-Tina-Turner legs. Of course, in this vision I am a size 10 again, and not the mismatched size 16/12 (top/bottom) that I am presently. My auburn tinted locks are braided in an intricate Nefertiti upsweep that just oozes royalty. My nails are unfortunately acrylic (an inveterate nail biter, I can only distort reality so far), and the groom--oh, the groom...he is Morris Chestnut and Shemar Moore of "The Brothers" and Boris Kodjoe of "Soul Food" all rolled into one. It is so real I can feel the goose bumps, sweaty palms, and knocking knees--finished by a sense of relief as the Divine in my vision silently whispers, "Thank you Je-sus!"

I hasted to get to the computer in my home office, adjacent to my bedroom. The fate of the magazine went unnoticed as it hit the floor. I logged on to one of the Web sites referenced in the Ebony article, I ran a search and sat mesmerized as I viewed with awe the works of God's hands in all their multicolored glory. They came in all shapes, heights, sizes and sexual preferences. Occupations ranged from blue collar to executive level. Profile after profile, each one more tantalizing than the next.

I pulled an all-nighter, yes I did. I wouldn't bet money on it, but I might be willing to swear that I heard strains of "So Many Men, So Little Time...How Can I Choo-oose" playing faintly in the background as I set about launching a full-fledged assault on the men of Blackplanet...

To Be Continued...

Friday, March 03, 2006


MEET DIVINE: female, thirty-seven, slaphappy, young at heart, self-employed; an online newbie, living in New York. She is fresh out of a long-term relationship and has completed the two-year mandatory wound-licking I-hate-men mourning period. Unfortunately for Divine, someone neglected to inform her that dating has been upgraded to new millennium level. But maybe she shouldn’t worry...hemlines aren’t the only things that have gone up.

Thirty-somethings are premium dating material now ... at least for the twenty-year-olds … Divine’s experiences are the basis for the story I call Age Is Just a Number, a lens through which to view the world of online dating.

Since the year 2003, I’ve logged much time online—chatting, emailing and IMing. In that time, I’ve probably spoken with over two hundred people, male and female, and I’ve realized something:

I’ve realized that there are many Divines in the world. They come in all shapes, sizes, ethnicities and financial brackets, drawn together by a commonality, a deep-seated loneliness or hunger for something—and by the generally accepted idea that the solution is in finding a mate.

This recounting, although entertaining, is intended to acknowledge that such a need exists, affirm the validity of that need, share the pain, caution the naïve, and pose the question that maybe...just maybe...the accepted solution ought to be an ongoing relationship with God.

In this blook you’ll find online dating articles, reviews and recommendations of online dating sites, a few extras, and of course, the first twelve episodes of serial Age is Just a Number.

Welcome to my world!


Thursday, March 02, 2006


This book (or "blook" as it has recently been coined) is based heavily on my blog Age Is Just a Number, which was created to recount an extraordinary two-year span of my life. Due to my hectic work schedule and doubts about the feasibility of readership, project AIJAN ground to a halt after a mere two episodes.

First I tried listing it in the Memoirs section of a serial Website, My story sat and sat and sat, with nary a purchaser. I could tell folks were clicking on the page, but there was no purchase in sight--not even during the buy-one-story-full-price, get-another-for-a-penny sale!

My brash confidence took a beating! My story had drama, betrayal, flashers and more--add to that a snazzy cover image with a gorgeous model (me... LOL). What more did they want?

(By the way, you will be seeing "LOL" a lot. It's an internet abbreviation that means "Laughing Out Loud." When I first began to use Instant Messaging I thought it meant "Lots of Love," which gave me quite a fuzzy feeling about the internet, but you'll read more about that later.)

I rallied. I tried pumping the story on my own Web sites and was again disappointed, if not befuddled. This was great stuff! Had the whole world gone mad? Then one day, in an email from one of my writing groups, the word "blog" turned up. "I've just updated my blog!"

What, pray tell, is a blog? I asked myself. I then clicked my way to the neatest discovery since sliced bread--blogging! Once I dusted off my flailing confidence and began blogging, I realized that I'd found my niche! Something about a blog and the word "publish" seems to get my creative juices flowing in a way that Microsoft Word does not.

A few weeks went by and I received a sporadic comment or two--nothing like the droves I'd envisioned. But just about the time my confidence again began to dwindle, I made another phenomenal discovery via another blogger's post--BlogExplosion! A traffic exchange Web site, where for every two blogs you surf, you receive one visit, BlogExplosion meant a new beginning for me. It didn't take me long to realize that extended surfing equaled visits, and visits equaled feedback--otherwise known as comments!

Due to copyright issues, this blook is not an exact replica of the AIJAN blog. Certain posts found online are not in the blook and vice versa. In addition, all pictures except those of me or taken by me have been deleted from the print version.

I did try to maintain the conversational tone and overall feel of the blogging experience. I've also held onto comments that enhanced the original posts. The beauty of linking was preserved in the Links section. In addition, I've retained the original dates so that you can have an idea of the time frame of the book. You have the option of reading straight through to get that "as-it-occurred" feeling, or you may utilize the table of contents to read by category. A glossary has also been provided for terms that might be unfamiliar.

Review No. 2

If there is one word to describe the musings of this delightful first-time author it would be “refreshing.” D.S. White is refreshingly honest, refreshingly funny, and refreshingly human. I feel as if I’ve just discovered a long-lost friend or relative. Readers will relate to the absolutely real words and thoughts that decorate the pages of this “blook” (the first I’ve ever read, by the way), and will come away from their read with insight to their own hearts and lives.

~Kathi Macias

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Review No. 1

My Thoughts

As an avid internet surfer I can relate with a lot of stuff in this work, it was well written and well thought out.The internet can be cruel as well as kind, we are all now taking it all for granted as it's becoming part of everyone's life.

Blogs are extensions of the website front page and chatroom dialogue, This comes together excellent and anyone who surfs the big wide web will relate to this. Good piece of work, well worth reading.

My Rating: 4/5 Stars

~Steve Robinson
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