Novels by Regina Neequaye
360 Degrees: A Novel by Regina Neequaye
What would you do if you lost the mother you loved at the hands of the father you adored?
After of her mother’s murder, Thandisha is placed in the care of a maternal grandmother so absorbed in her own grief, she is incapable of providing an environment for Thandisha to heal. Thandisha finds solace in the arms of Andreas, her first love. Her life spirals out of control after an unwanted pregnancy leads to a drug addiction. In order to heal, she is forced to journey 360 Degrees to the day her father killed her mother.
The multi-dimensional characters in 360 Degrees will stay in your heart long after you turn the last page.
Urban Tango: A Novel by Regina Neequaye
When you want it all and will do anything to get it…
Ayanna Williams has it all, wants more, and will do whatever it takes to get it. Her promotion to Senior Deputy Assistant to the District Attorney is the next move to her best move. Jefferson Thomas is a handsome, politically connected, business man who finances many key players in the political class. Ayanna and Jefferson find themselves for the second time on opposite sides of justice. Bringing Jefferson Thomas down for human trafficking is the catalyst for her next, best move.
Ayanna Williams has it all, wants more, and will do whatever it takes to get it. Her promotion to Senior Deputy Assistant to the District Attorney is the next move to her best move. Jefferson Thomas is a handsome, politically connected, business man who finances many key players in the political class. Ayanna and Jefferson find themselves for the second time on opposite sides of justice. Bringing Jefferson Thomas down for human trafficking is the catalyst for her next, best move.
Read sample chapters from both books by Regina Neequaye
http://reginaneequaye.com/books-by-regina-neequaye
Excerpt: Urban Tango by Regina Neequaye
“Let me help you, baby.” I take the rubber band and tie it as tight as I can. I remove the syringe and metal spoon from my pocket. I place the heroin on a spoon, mix in a couple of drops of water, melt it with a lighter, and fill the syringe with as much of the warm, bubbly liquid it can hold. I rub my thumbs over her desecrated veins, find a good injection spot, and insert the needle.
“Slow, baby, you got to do it slow.” I ignore her and quickly push all of the poison in her arm. She leans back against the upholstered leather headboard. Her eyelids flutter and slowly close. A euphoric smile stretches across her face. After several minutes, she slowly opens her eyes and stares at the wall. I almost pity her. She was never smart, but she had a perfect body and a beautiful face. Small craters now cover her honey brown cheeks. She lost a lot of weight much too quickly, causing the elasticity in her skin to diminish. Courtney very much needed her good looks to make up for her lack of intelligence and common sense. She has no self-confidence and is a magnet to losers.
Her head falls to the side. She struggles to hold meaningful conversation. The heroin that flows through her veins is pure and uncut. Her eyes slowly roll back in her head. Her gaze is peaceful. She mumbles, but her words are inaudible. I sit in the chair next to her bed and watch the clock.
“This is some good shit! You got a little more?” The high is wearing off. Her speech is still slurred and labored; it is as if the space in her mouth is too small to accommodate her tongue.
“Sure, baby, anything for you.” I sit on the side of the bed, tighten the rubber band around her limp arm, empty last of the poison from the baggie onto the spoon, and melt it. I siphon the liquid in the syringe and stick the needle in her arm. Her mouth curves into a slight smile. Her head slowly falls back against the headboard. Her breathing is soft and slow, almost like a sleeping baby. I look at my watch. Five minutes have passed. Her body jolts forward and begins to shake uncontrollably. She is stiff as a board. Spittle, thick like milk, flows from her mouth. Her head falls forward; her chin sits awkwardly on her chest. Her eyes are wide open; I take my glove covered hand and close her eyes. I leave the needle stuck in her arms and turn off the lights. I grab the empty baggie and cigarette lighter and place them in a pocket of the jeans that lay on the hamper. I wipe down everything my hands touched and leave with plenty of time to transport the companion to my favorite client.
Purchase Urban Tango by Regina Neequaye
General Fiction/ Women’s Fiction
https://www.amazon.com/Urban-Tango-Regina-Neequaye-ebook/dp/B01A2HXUQG
http://reginaneequaye.com/books-by-regina-neequaye
Excerpt: Urban Tango by Regina Neequaye
“Let me help you, baby.” I take the rubber band and tie it as tight as I can. I remove the syringe and metal spoon from my pocket. I place the heroin on a spoon, mix in a couple of drops of water, melt it with a lighter, and fill the syringe with as much of the warm, bubbly liquid it can hold. I rub my thumbs over her desecrated veins, find a good injection spot, and insert the needle.
“Slow, baby, you got to do it slow.” I ignore her and quickly push all of the poison in her arm. She leans back against the upholstered leather headboard. Her eyelids flutter and slowly close. A euphoric smile stretches across her face. After several minutes, she slowly opens her eyes and stares at the wall. I almost pity her. She was never smart, but she had a perfect body and a beautiful face. Small craters now cover her honey brown cheeks. She lost a lot of weight much too quickly, causing the elasticity in her skin to diminish. Courtney very much needed her good looks to make up for her lack of intelligence and common sense. She has no self-confidence and is a magnet to losers.
Her head falls to the side. She struggles to hold meaningful conversation. The heroin that flows through her veins is pure and uncut. Her eyes slowly roll back in her head. Her gaze is peaceful. She mumbles, but her words are inaudible. I sit in the chair next to her bed and watch the clock.
“This is some good shit! You got a little more?” The high is wearing off. Her speech is still slurred and labored; it is as if the space in her mouth is too small to accommodate her tongue.
“Sure, baby, anything for you.” I sit on the side of the bed, tighten the rubber band around her limp arm, empty last of the poison from the baggie onto the spoon, and melt it. I siphon the liquid in the syringe and stick the needle in her arm. Her mouth curves into a slight smile. Her head slowly falls back against the headboard. Her breathing is soft and slow, almost like a sleeping baby. I look at my watch. Five minutes have passed. Her body jolts forward and begins to shake uncontrollably. She is stiff as a board. Spittle, thick like milk, flows from her mouth. Her head falls forward; her chin sits awkwardly on her chest. Her eyes are wide open; I take my glove covered hand and close her eyes. I leave the needle stuck in her arms and turn off the lights. I grab the empty baggie and cigarette lighter and place them in a pocket of the jeans that lay on the hamper. I wipe down everything my hands touched and leave with plenty of time to transport the companion to my favorite client.
Purchase Urban Tango by Regina Neequaye
General Fiction/ Women’s Fiction
https://www.amazon.com/Urban-Tango-Regina-Neequaye-ebook/dp/B01A2HXUQG
About
the Author
Regina Neequaye is a graduate of the University of Georgia with a Bachelor of Art degree in English. She is the author of “360 Degrees” and “Urban Tango.” She is currently working on her third novel “Central Drive”. Regina’s cyber home is http://reginaneequaye.com. She can be reached by email at: regina@chapterpreview.com. She lives with her husband, Lamar Crowell, in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.
Email: regina@chapterpreview.com
Website: www.reginaneequaye.com
Regina Neequaye is a graduate of the University of Georgia with a Bachelor of Art degree in English. She is the author of “360 Degrees” and “Urban Tango.” She is currently working on her third novel “Central Drive”. Regina’s cyber home is http://reginaneequaye.com. She can be reached by email at: regina@chapterpreview.com. She lives with her husband, Lamar Crowell, in a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia.
Email: regina@chapterpreview.com
Website: www.reginaneequaye.com
