You Get What You Pray For
by E.N. Joy
by E.N. Joy
Lorain has been a prisoner of secrets almost all of her life. At the age of thirteen, she'd managed to keep her pregnancy a secret, discarding the infant she'd given birth to and leaving it for dead. She also never revealed the fact that the baby's father was her middle school guidance counselor. Years later, Lorain's mother had finally met the love of her life, and Lorain couldn't find the courage to tell her mother that her new beau was the man who molested Lorain. To complicate matters, Lorain discovered that the baby she'd abandoned all those years ago had survived, and God had placed Lorain in the now adult child's life. It seemed like the legacy of secrets had been passed on, too, as Lorain helped her daughter conceal the true details behind her own pregnancy.
Lorain has managed to maneuver the secrets and lies like a strategic game of chess, and is now living the lavish fairytale life of a doctor's wife. But even that is a lie. With the rug about to be pulled from underneath Lorain by the woman who raised her abandoned child, all Lorain prays for is that everything will end well. In this cycle of lies, secrets, shame, and guilt, will Lorain get what she prays for?
Praise for You Get What You Pray For
"It was a very good book from the beginning to the end. I would recommend it to everyone who enjoys a good Christian love story." - Michael Dothard
"In true E. N. Joy fashion, this book presented characters who were crazy, funny, and off the chain enjoyable. This story was filled with enough ups and downs, lies and truths to keep the reader's attention. I loved it! FIVE STARS!!" - Tanishia Pearson-Jones
Excerpt: You Get What You Pray For
Lorain closed the door to her last guest, walked into her great room and flopped down on the couch. She took off her shoes and flung them across the room, simultaneously closing her eyes.
“Whoa. I’m glad to see you too.”
Her eyes opened to the medium height, dark skin man. Her sparkling stilettos were at his feet. He stepped over them and walked toward her.
Lorain smiled. “You are exactly what I need right now.”
“Leon is always right on time,” he said, speaking in the third person. “Where’s everybody?”
“The staff is in the kitchen.”
“Your mother and the girls?”
“Next door.” Lorain nodded in the direction of her mother’s house.
“Then it sounds like Leon can take you in his arms.” He walked over to Lorain. “And do things to you that your husband could never dream of doing.”
“Oh, Nicholas can dream, but what Leon does to me is every woman’s fantasy come true.”
“Then why are we wasting time talking, when we—”
“Are all them stuck-up hussies gone?”
Eleanor’s voice came booming from the dining room.
“Looks like Leon will have to take a rain check,” Nicholas said, putting away his alter ego.
Lorain loved it when her husband role-played as Leon. Leave it to Eleanor to spoil the moment.
“Hello, Mother,” Lorain said as Eleanor entered the great room. She looked behind her mother, certain she would have seen two mini figures trailing behind her, but she didn’t. “Where are the girls?”
“In the kitchen eating up those desserts,” Eleanor replied.
“Mom, you can’t let them eat all that sweet stuff,” Lorain said. “You know diabetes runs on my father’s side of the family.”
“It ain’t running that fast,” Eleanor said, “seeing that it ain’t caught up with him and killed him dead. Besides, I don’t see you depriving your size fourteen self of any cupcakes.”
“Twelve,” Lorain said, correcting her.
“Your clothes might be a twelve. That little black thing you wear up under them that cuts off your blood circulation might make you look like a ten, but them hips scream fourteen.”
Lorain was offended. “Well, I never.”
“You never what? Been black before? Because that’s sure how you acting.” Eleanor shook her hand at Lorain. “We black folks . . . that’s what we do . . . eat.”
“And we get high blood pressure and sugar diabetes,” Lorain argued. “I don’t want my girls having to stick a needle in their stomach and prick their fingers all the time.”
“Heck, you married a doctor.” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “Let him do it.” She shooed Lorain. “You worry too much. Let them kids be.” Eleanor pushed Lorain out of the way and headed for the couch. “Now, move before you make me cuss.” She sat down in a huff. “And I ain’t like them ole fake Christians, talking about the cussword slipped out. I cuss on purpose, and you know I know how to string my words together to cut you up so tough, it’ll make ya heart bleed.” She looked up, for the first time acknowledging her son-in-law. “Hey, Nick. How you doing, sweet baby?” Her tone was now as sweet as could be.
“I’m good, Ma.” He walked over and kissed Eleanor on the forehead.
“I don’t know how you stay good.” She pointed at Lorain. “With that one acting like Diahann Carroll, a black woman trapped in a white woman’s body.”
“That is not who Diahann Carroll is,” Lorain said. “That’s just a role she played.”
“My point exactly. You been pretending to be somebody you’re not ever since you got involved with those doctors’ wives.” She shook her head at Nicholas, as if he’d fibbed. “And you good. Tell me anything.” She looked back at her daughter. “But I know you good . . . good at pretending. I watched how you were around them women at that last party thing y’all had here at the house. The all of you fake as a two-dollar bill.”
“Two-dollar bills are real,” Lorain said.
“Then a two-dollar bill’s got one up on you,” Eleanor snapped back.
Nicholas let a chuckle slip out.
Lorain snapped her neck toward Nicholas. “Nick, really?” You’re going to let her talk to your wife like that?”
Nicholas shrugged. “She’s yo’ mama. Besides, if I don’t take her side, she might not make me her famous neck bones and black-eyed peas.”
“Hmm,” Lorain said to Nicholas. “You need to be worried about what you might not get from me.”
“Child, you are forty plus,” Eleanor said. “He ain’t studdin’ none of that vintage vagina.”
“Ahem.” Nicholas cleared his throat. “I’m going to leave you two alone.” He headed off.
“Coward,” Lorrain shot at him, then looked at her mother. “I can’t believe you waste your time going to church Sunday mornings and use that mouth to praise the Lord, when all week long nothing but junk comes out of it. Just sickening.”
“Ain’t church for sick people to go and get better?”
Lorain threw her hands up. “Why do I bother? I can’t beat you.”
“And I thought by now you would’ve stopped trying. But I’m glad you haven’t. Keeps my mind sharp.”
“You mean your tongue?”
As crazy as the stuff that came out of Eleanor’s mouth was, it tended to be on point. Lorain had been trying to cover up her old life because there was too much guilt and shame in acknowledging it. She only needed enough time to pass where she felt comfortable enough to be real . . . with everybody. But time needed to hurry along. If not, one of two things was going to happen. Everyone was going to eventually see right through her phony, plastic self. Or she was going to suffocate underneath it all.
( Continued... )
© 2015 All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author, E.N. Joy. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the author's written permission. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only.
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Always Divas Series Book Three
Genre: Christian Fiction
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About the Author
BLESSEDselling Author E.N. Joy is the writer behind the “New Day Divas,” “Still Divas,” “Always Divas,” and “Forever Divas” series, coined soap operas in print. And just like real televised soap operas, these stories are filled with drama, romance, chances, coincidences and fate. But more importantly, they are filled with characters that will make you feel young and restless, bold and beautiful; all as the world turns upside down. These divas will be your guiding light to a literary feast. Don't miss out on the series of a lifetime, because remember, you've only got one life to live. Start living it with the New Day Divas.
