The Parker J Cole Show — The Taboo of Intimacy

It is a known fact that our Western culture is over saturated by sexuality. From advertising to kids’ show, sensuality of some sort makes its way into our brain. Unless you live a place where it isn’t propagated, chances are you’ve been exposed.

Within this culture, there is a purity movement of the church that seeks to have young children and young adults abstain from sexual relations and promote purity, abstinence, and the like. However, in spite of these well-meaning programs, chances are most of these attendees into the programs will likely enter into sexual relationships in their teens despite their promise not to.

So on one hand you have the world telling you to ‘just do it’. On the other hand, you have the Church saying ‘don’t do it’. Where is the balance?

Join me as I give my take on the taboo of intimacy in both the world and the Church on this episode of the Parker J Cole show. You can call in and chat at 646-595-2083, press 1 to be live on air. Or, you can click on the link here: http://tobtr.com/s/7953747. Or, you can download the WLUV radio mobile app. Tune in!

The Parker J Cole Show — Love, Sex, and the Single Christian

In today’s world, what’s the point of NOT having sexual intercourse even though you’re not married? Everyone seems to be doing it. According to hit sitcoms, movies, and all kind of media, single people have great sex. You’re suppose to even. I had a friend tell me recently, “Before I get married, I’d have sex first. You don’t buy a house without a walk-through, do you?”

Yet, there are many single Christian men and women who are out there waiting for the mate God has for them. Day in and Day out, night after night, week after week, month after month, year after year. Staying faithful and true…or are they? Some Christian singles make it look easy. Others make it look like hard. But when it comes to love, sex, and the Single Christian there’s a lot to talk about.

Join me as I chat with Pastor Marcus Gill from Rush United Church as we get to the nitty gritty of this issue and take your questions and comments. We’ll also be discussing Pastor Gill’s book ‘Single GOD Life’.  You can call in at 646-595-2083, press 1 to be live on air. Or, you can click on the link here: http://tobtr.com/7863029  Or, you can download the WLUV radio mobile app today. Tune in!

Tonight on the Write Stuff — Amazing Grace with Raelee May Carpenter

“Amazing grace! How sweet the sound! That SAVED a wretch like me!”

The words to the song “Amazing Grace” have been sung for many, many years. Even secular peope who don’t want to have anything to do with God, Christians, religion or the hereafter, know that song.  I’ve sang it as a child, rocking to the familiar tune in church where the old deacons draw out the ‘A’ in ‘Amazing’ and turn it into a Gregorian chant. I’ve sang it as an adult when I had a car accident earlier this year that did wonders in understanding just how grace has saved me.

Do we know what means when we talk about grace? Why do we Christians call in it ‘amazing’? How does it work in our lives?

On this episode of the Write Stuff we’ll be chatting with author Raelee May Carpenter, who newest book, “Liberation Song” is for sale. You can call in at 646-595-2083, press 1 to be live on air. Or, you can click on the link here: http://tobtr.com/7789711. Or, you can download the WLUV Radio mobile app.  Tune in

About the Book

b2f8c2913f6a91be2455822b225a0c2fWhen we first meet Aili MacIntyre, she’s doing what she’s been doing all her life: running in fear. She flees through a foreign jungle with two young girls and tries to save them from the forced prostitution ring that has been holding them in a virtual hell-on-earth. But tragedy meets them under the trees, and only one child escapes.

Three years later, Alexandra Adelaide has acquired a new identity in a radically different scene: the metropolitan jungle of Greater Los Angeles. She, though saved by Grace, has invented what she believes is the appropriate way to suffer for her own sins. Alex is raising the child who was orphaned by her insecurities. And she never, for a second, lets herself forget the pain caused by her mistakes.

Then the real tragedy strikes . . .

. . . she falls in love.

Matthew Gold is everything she needs and a lot more than she could’ve imagined. Bright, attractive, generous, and with his own vested interest in Grace, Matt works hard to earn Alex’s trust and a place in her life. He even loves and seeks to protect her daughter, who is the key to breaking open the biggest human trafficking case in recent history.

But Alex has lived in fear since she took her first breath. So how does she let Love start a new day? How does she choose courage even as very real dangers draw closer to her barred doors?

 

The Author

715kzshllRL._UX250_I’m Raelee. I’m a Christian, and I write: novels, shorts,essays, poems, practically anything, really. But that’s not it. I write about Grace. I may act as a story-teller or an entertainer, but I’m not playing any game. I’m like the Court Jester; you may hear bells or see bright colors. You may witness drama and laughs. But there’s is more to it. Always. Stories may be what I write, but what I tell… is the Truth.

 

Many Strange Women — Excerpt

I guess if I’m going to share Book 2 of the Sins of the Flesh series with you, I oughta share an excerpt from the first book, Many Strange Women. Due to your support, Many Strange Women, was on Amazon’s Top 100 Bestsellers for African American Women’s Fiction for several months.   I’ll be back live on January 6th. Yippee!

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1534925_511858148930398_1154611047_oRopes of candy cane bound Solomon to the chair while a giant marshmallow gagged him. A single light bulb hung from a thin wire in the ceiling, and the rest of the room was bathed in darkness. Tears stung his eyes as he fought against his candy cane restraints around his chest, arms, wrists, and feet—but they had the strength of marble. The marshmallow refused to dissolve in his mouth and remained even as he tried to bite down.

The doorway suddenly darkened by the curvaceous figure of a woman.

“Eric Blake,” the woman’s voice spoke, and it smoothed over him like frigid water flowing over rocks.

Solomon’s eyes widened as she advanced, vibrant like an Irish rose. The light revealed her in phases, bottom to top. Long, dainty feet with strawberry colored toenails were hemmed by matching silk pajama pants edged with lace. Slim legs seductively clung to by the silk stretched the fabric. The hourglass waistline was accentuated by a V-neck halter top, and curly copper hair surrounded a long, elegant neck. Jade eyes edged by long curly lashes, an upturned nose and childishly pouty lips. Her arms were slender and sinewy and in her hands she clinched a coiled whip of candy cane.

A scythe of glacial, nipping fear sliced into Solomon’s body, opened his chest and exposed his thudding heart. Over and over as each step brought the woman closer, fear flayed him. With renewed vigor, he fought against the candy cane rope. He twisted and tugged at his wrists in an effort to set him free. The marshmallow bulged and expanded until it overlapped the corners of his mouth.

“Eric Blake,” the woman’s mouth moved as her tongue darted out and over her lips.

The marshmallow gag muffled his scream.

“Oh yes! That sound!” The woman laughed as she rolled her eyes and neck in a movement of pleasure.

Solomon struggled violently. He wrenched at the candy cane ropes, twisted his wrists and grappled with his toes to move the chair. His face flushed with blood from his exertions. The chair rocked back and forth but never fell. The ropes tightened their hold; the candy cane glowed in the light. He had to escape. He had to try!

The woman purred. Her eyes darkened to the color of mold and the mirth vanished from her face as an expression of intent drew her eyebrows together and her mouth fell slightly open in anticipation.

The whip uncoiled; the red and white bands twisted together and met at a point. She backed away until she was once again shaded by darkness and then silhouetted by light pouring in from the doorway. He saw the dark figure of her arm rise.

The tip of the whip cracked against his chest, and he flinched instinctively but there wasn’t any pain. It fell again, this time on his stomach, and he jolted. The sound echoed in the air like a firecracker. Over and over, it touched various parts of his body. He didn’t know how long he sat there as he shivered from response, felt no pain but was utterly trapped by his candied bonds and tormented by a beautiful woman.

Then it was over, and the woman walked back to him, hips swaying. She reached out and pulled the marshmallow gag from his mouth and threw it to the ground. It shattered like glass on the floor.

“No, no, no,” he moaned, and once more struggled against his bonds.

“It’s time to eat, Eric Blake.” She panted harshly, the red lips wide open as she gulped.

“No, please, no! Get away from me!” Solomon screeched, rocking the chair again.

“I will never go away,” she whispered as she leaned over him. Her hair cascaded over him in a coppery waterfall. Her mouth opened over his shoulder, and her teeth sank into his flesh and left a gaping hole in his shoulder.

In horror, he gazed at his shoulder. It was marshmallow with a candy cane center.

Solomon jerked awake from his dream. He scraped at his shoulder fervently, expecting to see a marshmallow wound. A few seconds passed before he stopped and longer for his heart to stop its attempt to escape the confines of his ribcage. He pushed the covers away from his sweat-drenched body. The cool air rushed against his skin and he welcomed it. Darkness shrouded everything except for a pinprick of red light from his digital clock: 4:30.

“Dear God,” he breathed into the quiet room.

He exhaled a long breath. Would he ever escape his past?

The Other Man — Excerpt

While I’m on holiday from hosting my shows, I wanted to share an excerpt from my newest book, The Other Man. I return live on January 6th. Enjoy!

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1622588_376837429146100_3911479762819831790_oVincent Miller stared at the beaming bride, who stood at the altar as she married Jacob Westwood. He had never seen Leah Martin look so beautiful. She had always been a looker, but now at her wedding, she had a bridal glow about her. Her caramel skin radiated with a golden sheen, the thick riot of russet curls shimmered, and her ivory gown was the perfect complement to her curves.

She laughed as she gave her flowers to her maid of honor. A little boy came down the aisle with a broom decorated with pink ribbons and frills. When the little boy placed the broom at the bride and groom’s feet, she and Jacob jumped over it. The bridegroom tripped and his arms flailed to keep from falling. The church rang with laughter as he smiled and stole another kiss from his new bride.

Third in line, Vincent watched with hooded eyes as Leah hugged more guests while the photographer took pictures of the bride and groom with everyone in the receiving line. As his turn came up, he braced himself and allowed his face to show only happiness for her.

“Vincent!” she screamed in his ear as she hugged him. The world receded. The flash of the photographer’s camera faded as an onslaught of sensations cascaded over his mind and heated his surging blood. His nostrils flared as he greedily inhaled the cocoa butter–scented skin. The assault of that delicious aroma nearly made his eyes roll into the back of his head. All her round, soft curves melted into his solid frame like warmed syrup over pancakes. The gentle clasp of her arms around his middle effectively imprisoned him, but he was a willing captive. He gritted his teeth in an attempt to still his senses from saturating themselves in the presence of this woman. Yet, when she pulled back from him an instant later, his body ached to hold her again.

“Hey, Vincent.”

The sound of the husband’s voice was an ice cold bucket of distraction that disintegrated the hold Leah’s presence had on him. Vincent gave himself a mental shake as he tugged on the ends of his suit and smoothed his hair in a nonchalant way. He hoped as he reached out to shake the groom’s hand that the slight tremble of his own hand wasn’t visible.

“Congrats, you guys.” How words erupted from his mouth was a mystery. Before he could say more, the photographer gestured and Leah jumped between them with her arms around their necks. Vincent’s lips stretched and curved upward as a sardonic voice whispered in his mind. Smile for the camera.

 ***

Do you see what you missed out on, Vincent? The flash from the camera blinded Leah Westwood as she stood in the middle of her husband and her ex-flame.

The instant she articulated the thought, she felt the Spirit chastise her. Okay, okay. So maybe he hadn’t missed out on everything. They’d been intimate on more than one occasion. Yet, she did feel a pure sense of feminine pleasure at seeing this man, whom she at one time wanted to give her life to, watch her marry another man worth twelve of him. Jacob glanced down at her, his eyes gentle but lit with anticipation. A

bubble of sweet, ginger ale–like joy burst from inside her. Heady and intoxicating happiness made her want to fly. She loved her husband with To think God had crafted them for each other still amazed her. Jacob Westwood, the one man to subdue Mercury, the rage monster inside her.

“You look so beautiful, Leahgirl,” Jacob whispered as he kissed her cheek.

Although she recognized her own beauty, she wished she didn’t have so many men try to hit on her, grab at her, or flirt with her. It became tedious. Maybe there was a curse to being pretty. God knew how often she longed for the face of a tarantula.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she returned the compliment. She reached up and tugged the short, thick blond hair. He laughed, his periwinkle eyes filling with teasing light. The formal wedding suit rested

on his broad frame, accentuating it. Jacob wasn’t tall, but he stood almost a head above her. Her hairline came to his square chin, nicely trimmed with a goatee.

Vincent walked away and she greeted more people. Her lips curved into a wide smile but at the same time little needles of nervousness pricked her skin. Her throat started to constrict and she took a deep breath to calm the nerves. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she remembered the night. It was the night she met the two men who changed her life forever: her husband and her attacker. If she hadn’t been so pretty, maybe that scumbag would have left her alone. No. She refused to go into a full-fledged panic attack at her wedding. She was safe here beside Jacob.

“Leahgirl, what’s wrong?”

Jacob’s voice broke through the memory that had almost unveiled itself and she shook her head. This was her wedding day. The past would not interfere with it. She sent a quick prayer to the Almighty to help her with wayward thoughts, and then pushed the trepidation back and focused on all the people who had come to wish them joy.

***

The muscles in Jacob’s neck were tense and he rolled his head to relax them. He closed the door to the hotel room. His fingers tugged at the tie around his throat and loosened it as he rubbed his neck for a few moments. As his muscles stretched, fatigue seeped into them. Who knew weddings could be so time-consuming? From the moment the preacher declared, “You may now kiss the bride,” he’d wanted to race to the hotel suite.

He glanced out the window. The stars glistened against the backdrop of the city. The soft white blanket of snow gave the scenery a fanciful snow globe allure. Cars scuttled back and forth. Street lights changed. The night bustle added its magic to this special day.

For several hours he’d smiled, shook hands, laughed, and enjoyed oh so brief kisses with his new wife for the benefit of the guests. His eyes were dry from the numerous flashes of the camera. The photographer had cajoled, begged, and finally demanded they pose for pictures at each moment. He could have strangled the man.

Leah had been in her element. She sizzled and crackled with the vibrant energy of her happiness. She’d fluttered from one table to the next, her face bright with joy as she connected with the guests. The air about her buzzed and zinged. Hot like a tongue of fire, she singed people. More than once, he saw drooping backs straighten and unconscious frowns transform into smiles. Leah was a bolt of lightning, unable to be harnessed yet magnificent because of the unfettered freedom. He’d watched her all day, longing building up to a pressure inside him begging for release. When they did exchange kisses, he knew she was as eager for their time alone as he.

At last, they had each other to themselves.

Leah twirled around. The knee-length gold dress she had changed into for the reception shimmered in the light. His lips tilted to one side as he remembered how she refused to lug around her bridal dress on her big body for hours.

Big body. He watched her as she stepped out of her shoes and jumped on the bed. Her childish antics were in direct contradiction to the woman he desired with increasing intensity by the moment. This was their wedding night. And he was about to enjoy it.