<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551</id><updated>2012-02-16T10:44:03.540-08:00</updated><category term='Sistah for Sale'/><category term='Mommy&apos;s Angel'/><category term='Diamond Playgirls'/><category term='Diary of a Mistress'/><category term='Secret Society'/><category term='Never Enough'/><category term='Miasha'/><title type='text'>Miasha Book Guide</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-8703384116607320085</id><published>2008-08-09T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T07:49:22.363-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Miasha'/><title type='text'>Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2uVlzasaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/XuJ4ZyLfNGw/s1600-h/miasha1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2uVlzasaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/XuJ4ZyLfNGw/s400/miasha1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232530028022641058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Having been in the book industry for only two years Miasha  has five novels under her belt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;  plus a short story in an anthology. She’s caught  the attention of major media outlets such&lt;br /&gt; as BET, The Wendy Williams Experience,  CBS, and CN8 and has been featured in an array&lt;br /&gt;of national magazines from  Essence to Vibe Vixen. Known for having extravagant release&lt;br /&gt;parties and being  one of the game’s top hustlers, this best selling author established&lt;br /&gt;quite a  name for herself.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;Recently, Simon and Schuster designated a “Miasha” month companywide meaning no other female urban literature author will be able to put out a book during that particular month. This is astonishing, especially for someone who grew up with both parents addicted to drugs and in an environment that could have easily led her astray. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p align="left"&gt;The founder of the Ask Miasha Foundation, this twenty-six year old wife and mother of one has her mind set on giving back to the less fortunate. She came a long way and wishes the same for people coming up behind her. Her motto, “Don’t dream your life, Live your dreams” inspires people from all walks of life and according to her it is her ability to motivate and uplift people that is her biggest and most rewarding accomplishment to date.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-8703384116607320085?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/8703384116607320085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=8703384116607320085' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/8703384116607320085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/8703384116607320085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/five-5-titles-by-miasha-for-just-2.html' title='Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2uVlzasaI/AAAAAAAAAGg/XuJ4ZyLfNGw/s72-c/miasha1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-8814534427754489660</id><published>2008-08-09T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T07:40:30.748-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Never Enough'/><title type='text'>Never Enough</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2sS6-eOjI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ZhZ2RoS6KOU/s1600-h/never+enough.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2sS6-eOjI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ZhZ2RoS6KOU/s400/never+enough.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232527783143291442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;Some prayed for my death, but I didn't go anywhere. I was a bad bitch before -- wait 'til they see me now....&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;In a single act of violence, beautiful gold digger Celess lost her best friend, Tina, and her good looks. She also lost her former love, Michael, when he learned her secret. Now depressed, suicidal, and horribly disfigured, Celess gets a phone call that changes her life. &lt;/p&gt;Her heartbreak and a near-death experience transform Celess into a woman whose healed spirit takes her in new directions -- and straight into a modeling contract with one of Hollywood's top agencies. In Los Angeles, she reconnects with two old friends, Terry and Derrek, and through them, finds new friends and a new love. Life is good once again. But under the Hollywood limelight, will Celess's checkered past come back to haunt her and destroy the new life she has built for herself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-8814534427754489660?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/8814534427754489660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=8814534427754489660' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/8814534427754489660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/8814534427754489660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/never-enough.html' title='Never Enough'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2sS6-eOjI/AAAAAAAAAGY/ZhZ2RoS6KOU/s72-c/never+enough.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-4160227698457859873</id><published>2008-08-09T07:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T07:38:39.354-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sistah for Sale'/><title type='text'>Sistah for Sale</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2r4hogrSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/DbAetWl0JAE/s1600-h/sistah+sale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2r4hogrSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/DbAetWl0JAE/s400/sistah+sale.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232527329663692066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After her father was killed and her mother was deported, Sienna grew up in Miami's prostitution scene in the care of her father's business partner, Chatman. Beautiful and ambitious, Sienna determines that the best route to the life she wants is to become the most coveted of Chatman's call girls. When Sienna learns that her mother has been murdered and that Chatman had a role in the murder, she turns to her friend Ryan for comfort, beginning a secret relationship with the boy Chatman is grooming to take over his business. Eager to gain her independence from the man she both admires and loathes, Sienna takes steps to increase her value as a sex worker by learning her wealthy clients' cultures and languages, but her plan backfires. Chatman is more determined than ever not to let her go, and Sienna is equally intent on finding a way to break free -- no matter what it takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;big&gt;Chapter 1&lt;/big&gt;&lt;p&gt;The day started off different from any other. First of all, we slept in a hotel the night before, which was rather strange seeing as though we had an apartment just blocks away. Then, that morning my mom woke me up and dressed me quickly while my dad loaded up his friend's car with our suitcases. My mom sat me on her lap in the backseat of my dad's friend's car. My dad sat in the passenger seat. It was so early in the morning that I could see the sun rising over the palm trees as we drove away from the hotel. I remember thinking about how beautiful the sight was and then falling asleep in my mother's arms.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I was awakened by my mom we were at a small airport. My dad's friend had stopped the car and he and my dad got out and started taking our suitcases from the trunk. There was a small plane on the ground just a few feet from where we were parked. It was like a big open parking lot and all that was in it was the car we were in and the small plane my dad and his friend were transferring our bags onto. My mom carried me out of the car and over to the plane. There were two men already on board whom I never saw before, but my mom and dad apparently knew them well as they greeted each other with hugs. One man helped my mother and me onto the plane while the other went to the cockpit. My father hugged his friend as if he was saying farewell and then joined my mom and me. A big smile on his face, my dad caressed my mother's knee, then kissed her on the lips. I turned my head to look out the window as the plane started to slowly pull away. My dad reached down and tickled my stomach, bringing my attention back to him. I laughed so hard and tried to resist, prying his big hands off my tiny body every chance I could.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Mommy, help me!" I squealed, squirming around on my mother's lap.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My mom just laughed along. Soon tears started rolling down my cheeks I was laughing so hard. Then my dad stopped, calling himself giving me a break. I wiped my eyes and was trying to catch my breath when the plane took off. The sudden increase in speed and the force of the plane lifting off the ground took me by surprise. I started choking on my own air. My mom immediately started to pat my back and my dad lifted my arms up over my head.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Enough already. You're going to kill the poor child," the man who had helped us on the plane said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I stopped choking and laid my head back against my mom's breasts. I remember looking at the man and wondering if he was serious about what he said about my dad killing me. I waited for him to smile or laugh and when he didn't I concluded that he was a bad man. I rolled my eyes at him and turned on my side so I wouldn't have to look at him. My mom adjusted me on her lap to suit my new position and before long I was asleep again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;Boom!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Aaarrrr! Aaarrrr! Aaaarrrrr!"&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I woke up to the echoing sound of a gunshot and the screeching sound of my mother's screams. I burst into tears at the sight of my father slumped over in his seat beside my mother and me. Blood was splattered all over my mom's clothes and I could feel it on my head and face. My mother tried to jump from her seat but was held down by the seat belt. Startled and panicked, she was unable to unbuckle it no matter how many times she tried.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Shut up!" the bad man shouted to my mother, still holding the gun that he had used on my father.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"&lt;i&gt;What you do that for? What wrong with you?!&lt;/i&gt;" my mother shouted in broken English.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"&lt;i&gt;I said shut up!&lt;/i&gt;" the man shouted back, knocking my mother in the mouth with the butt of the gun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wanted to scream when I saw my mother's head fall back against the seat of the plane, but somehow I didn't. I guess I was afraid that I would suffer the same punishment if I did scream. So instead, I squeezed my eyes shut and cried as quietly as I could. I only opened them slightly when I heard my mom going off again.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Nooo! Noooo! Please no! Please! Oh God noooo! Cliff! Cliff, help us!!" my mom yelled, a tooth falling from her bloody mouth.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I followed my mom's eyes and saw the man dragging my father toward an opened door on the plane. I turned my body around and jumped in my mother's arms with my knees in her lap. I squeezed her so tight and buried my tear-covered face in her chest. Muffling my voice, I screamed, "Daddy!" And that was it. I felt my mother's body jerk forward as she finally broke free of the seat belt. She dropped to the floor and practically crawled over to the door. With me still in her arms she tried to throw herself from the plane. It took the man hitting her again with the butt of the gun to keep her back, but that time he hit her in the head. She fell backward and I was on top of her. I was crying uncontrollably while maintaining my grip on her.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was scared for my life. I didn't know if the man was going to throw me off the plane next or if he was going to hit me with the gun. All I knew was that he had killed my father and there was no telling what else he was capable of. I clung to my mother for dear life. I could feel her heart beating so I knew she was still alive, but I hoped and prayed that she stayed unconscious so that she wouldn't get hit again. As I lay there on top of my mother in the aisle of the small plane, I noticed that we were landing. The wheels hit the ground with such power and the plane started to decelerate. Once we came to a complete stop, I heard the man's footsteps walking in my mom's and my direction. My heart was pounding and the tears were gushing out. I had no idea what the man was going to do to us. I closed my eyes and held my mom tight, then I felt him pulling me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;At that point I didn't know what else to do but scream. He was taking me from my mother and most likely was going to kill her, too. I yelled out to my mother, screaming for her to wake up, begging her to help me. She didn't budge. I didn't give up though, because I knew she wasn't dead. I knew I felt her breathing under me. I just needed her to wake up. I knew if she had woken up she would have fought for me. She wouldn't have let the man take me away. But no matter how loud I screamed and how much I pleaded, my mother remained unconscious. I was taken off the plane and put inside an empty shack where I was gagged and bound to a chair. My tiny teeth sank into a dusty bandanna. My eyes were covered with a blindfold. My little wrists and ankles were held together by duct tape. I was left alone, scared and confused. I just knew my life was about to be over and that's a hell of a feeling for anyone to have, let alone a five-year-old.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I didn't know how many days went by, but I knew I was hungry and dehydrated. I felt like I had lost every bit of my energy, like I was dying. I felt myself drifting off to sleep when the door opened. I had to squint because even through the blindfold the beaming sunrays bothered my eyes, now so used to pitch darkness. I heard two sets of footsteps coming toward me and I tried to muster the strength to scream and move around, hoping to get whoever's attention. But then I heard the voice of the man who had killed my dad and I froze with fear.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Her father was killed and her mother was deported back to the Dominican Republic. I figured with what you're doing, you could take her. She's young and fresh, perfect for your business. I'll give 'er to you for little money, too."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Let's talk outside," an unfamiliar male voice suggested.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was frightened beyond words. I didn't know what the men were plotting. Their footsteps headed away from me and it got dark again. I was trying to think of something to do or say to get their attention, particularly the attention of the unfamiliar male. At that point I would have gone with anyone if it meant getting out of that chair and getting to some food and water.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Within minutes I heard only one set of footsteps coming my way. My heart started to pound. I didn't know whether it was the man I had come to hate or his companion. I felt someone's hand peeling away the duct tape from my wrists and ankles. Then the blindfold came off and the bandanna was removed from my mouth. I started coughing and I was so weak I couldn't cover my mouth. My body was limp. There was a man, dark skinned like my dad, staring at me. He was more muscular and looked a lot older than my father, though. His hair was cut close to his head, almost bald. He had a light mustache and goatee and he appeared to be well groomed. He didn't look mean like the bad man who had brought me there and for some reason I didn't feel afraid anymore. I actually felt a sense of security, like I had been rescued. He picked me up out of the chair and my back ached terribly. He carried me out of the shack and put me in a dark-colored SUV. It was air-conditioned inside and the soft leather seats felt so comfortable compared to the hard chair I had been sitting in all those days. I lay across the backseat and struggled to keep my eyes open.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"You hungry?" the man asked, climbing into the driver's seat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I tried to answer him but I couldn't. I was too weak. The man picked up a Kit Kat, opened the wrapper, and handed the four chocolate wafers back to me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I began eating the Kit Kat like it was a McDonald's cheeseburger. I lifted my head a little when the man pulled up in the parking lot of a fast-food restaurant. I was licking my dirty fingers when he turned off the car and hopped out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I'll be right back," he said.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I just nodded real slowly. When he got back inside the car he sat in the backseat beside me. He sat me up and placed a bunch of food in front of me. I reached out for the drink he had in his hand and he put the straw in it and gave it to me. My hands were shaking so badly that I couldn't hold the cup on my own. He had to help me. He fed me, too. After eating the chicken sandwich, French fries, and juice, I burst into tears.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The man rubbed my head, starting from my hairline. He worked his way down to the middle of my back where my ponytail ceased.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"I'm sorry about what you had to go through," he said. "But that's life. Children pay for the sins of their fathers."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Not paying him much attention, I lay back down on the seat and continued crying softly. ...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-4160227698457859873?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/4160227698457859873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=4160227698457859873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/4160227698457859873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/4160227698457859873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/sistah-for-sale.html' title='Sistah for Sale'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2r4hogrSI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/DbAetWl0JAE/s72-c/sistah+sale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-1425743727174253914</id><published>2008-08-09T07:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T07:36:14.173-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diamond Playgirls'/><title type='text'>Diamond Playgirls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2rR2eNVgI/AAAAAAAAAGA/tHVxm6nCiIQ/s1600-h/playgirls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2rR2eNVgI/AAAAAAAAAGA/tHVxm6nCiIQ/s400/playgirls.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232526665242727938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Four beautiful, professional women, living on separate floors of a Harlem brownstone are about to discover they have a lot more in common than just their address... Dior's name is no accident--she's got a taste for the finer things in life, and New York City is just the place to find them. So far she's got the job and the apartment. Now she needs the man--and she hopes she's found him on the Internet. Dior is prepared to find out on Valentine's Day... &lt;p&gt; Party promoter Tamara has been recruited from Atlanta to open a hot new club. All the women in her family are known for their great looks, great cooking--and the fact that they can't stay married. Tamara is hoping to break that tradition. But is dating three different men the best strategy? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; With beauty, brains, and a hefty bank account, Chloe is a BAP on a mission: she wants to run a top magazine. But just as she's up for a big promotion her boyfriend gives her an ultimatum. Will Chloe choose to follow her ambition--or her heart? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Casting director Mona-Lisa works hard--and plays even harder. She's avoided relationships her whole life. When a tragedy opens her eyes to the possibility of true love, she's compelled to share a special day with a man from her past. But she's overlooked some crucial details... &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; One by one, each woman crosses paths at a local club on Valentine's Day--and the secrets about to be revealed will forever change their lives...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-1425743727174253914?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/1425743727174253914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=1425743727174253914' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/1425743727174253914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/1425743727174253914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/diamond-playgirls.html' title='Diamond Playgirls'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2rR2eNVgI/AAAAAAAAAGA/tHVxm6nCiIQ/s72-c/playgirls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-2903848304353461747</id><published>2008-08-09T07:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T07:34:07.677-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mommy&apos;s Angel'/><title type='text'>Mommy's Angel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2qvi7Xh3I/AAAAAAAAAF4/__C6Njq7z0o/s1600-h/mommy+angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2qvi7Xh3I/AAAAAAAAAF4/__C6Njq7z0o/s400/mommy+angel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232526075880769394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Angel is a 15-year-old growing up in Brooklyn with a mother who's hooked on heroin, while Marvin, Mom's boyfriend, supplies the dope and sexually abuses Angel. After Angel's brother Curtis is killed in a drive-by, Angel gets a job at a strip club in order to feed her sister and baby brother and keep the family afloat. When the strip club is raided, Angel must decide whether to prostitute herself to make ends meet. Miasha keeps things moving at a fast clip, but the basic empathy and understanding that pervade are the story's real appeal. Miasha (&lt;i&gt;Secret Society&lt;/i&gt;; &lt;i&gt;Diary of a Mistress&lt;/i&gt;) never loses sight of the basic humanity of all the lost souls that surround Angel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In the midst of all the same voices in literature, Miasha brings authenticity to the pages of this novel. She's the crème de la crème -- enjoy!"&lt;p&gt;-- Vickie M. Stringer, &lt;i&gt;Essence&lt;/i&gt; bestselling author of &lt;i&gt;Let That Be the Reason&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A poignant tale of innocence lost in Brooklyn."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-- K'wan, international bestselling author of &lt;i&gt;Gangsta, Street Dreams, Eve&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Hood Rat&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;"Mommy's Angel&lt;/i&gt; is a fast-paced, well-written, realistic view of what addiction does to our communities. It sheds a bright light on how the addict's hurt, pain, and trouble are recycled onto the people closest to them."&lt;/p&gt;-- Danielle Santiago, author of &lt;i&gt;Grindin'&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Essence&lt;/i&gt; magazine #1 bestseller &lt;i&gt;Little Ghetto Girl&lt;/i&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-2903848304353461747?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/2903848304353461747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=2903848304353461747' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/2903848304353461747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/2903848304353461747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/mommys-angel.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Angel'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2qvi7Xh3I/AAAAAAAAAF4/__C6Njq7z0o/s72-c/mommy+angel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-7758780960209950375</id><published>2008-08-09T07:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T13:30:59.525-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Secret Society'/><title type='text'>Secret Society</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2qRaxGnXI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DN4H50W97Tc/s1600-h/secret+society.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2qRaxGnXI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DN4H50W97Tc/s400/secret+society.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232525558294158706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For Celess and her best friend, Tina, "runnin' game" on dudes with dollars is a full-time occupation. Somewhere just out of their teens, tricked out in Chanel, Chloé and D&amp;amp;G, the "flyest girls out there" hit the fights, the games and the clubs, looking for men who like to spend their cash. By page nine, Celess has a trio of men to meet her needs: "O was my hustler from Delaware. James was my baller from Philly. Tariq was my businessman from New Jersey." And by page 20, Celess reveals the secret of the title: she and Tina are men, too. Readers know from the preface that their story ends tragically—but which of their lovers, when he finds out the truth, will reach for his gun? Miasha's narrative has few developed scenes, and "We had a brief conversation about my outfit and how good I looked in it" is pretty much what passes for dialogue. But beneath the litany of shopping and screwing, lying and dodging, the tension bubbles—Tina and Celess know they're playing a dangerous game. As James bugs out, O gets killed and Tariq vanishes, Celess gets her nails into Darrell, who's married; Terry, who's white (and likes Celess's male parts); and Michael, who really loves her. But this isn't a fairy tale. Scandalous and engrossing, this debut from Miasha (just one name; she lives in the Atlanta suburbs with her spouse and child) shows her to be a writer to watch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img border="0" width="1" src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" height="1" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-7758780960209950375?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/7758780960209950375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=7758780960209950375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/7758780960209950375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/7758780960209950375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/secret-society.html' title='Secret Society'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2qRaxGnXI/AAAAAAAAAFw/DN4H50W97Tc/s72-c/secret+society.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7663798633676213551.post-340977205181186547</id><published>2008-08-09T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T07:29:49.841-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Diary of a Mistress'/><title type='text'>Diary of a Mistress</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2pLf3eyrI/AAAAAAAAAFo/1MAw2r0TTwM/s1600-h/diary+of+mistress.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2pLf3eyrI/AAAAAAAAAFo/1MAw2r0TTwM/s400/diary+of+mistress.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232524357072243378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;big&gt;What should a wife believe? The words of her husband or the diary of his mistress? From the author of &lt;i&gt;Secret Society&lt;/i&gt; comes a tale of love and jealousy in which two women struggle to separate fact from fiction. &lt;/big&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Monica&lt;/b&gt; counts her blessings -- she has a husband who is not only devoted to her but is also committed to being a strong, caring father to their twin sons. When Carlos surprises her with an unforgettably romantic getaway, Monica knows her husband is still very much in love with her -- and she with him. But an unexpected package threatens to change everything Monica's ever believed about her husband. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Angela&lt;/b&gt; has adopted a sex-them-and-leave-them attitude toward the married men she's bedded over the last five years. Then she met Monica's Carlos. Now she will stop at nothing to get him for herself -- even if that means destroying her own life and another woman's family.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.anrdoezrs.net/click-3126220-10552011" target="_top"&gt;Five (5) titles by Miasha for just $2. Click here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.awltovhc.com/image-3126220-10552011" border="0" height="1" width="1" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7663798633676213551-340977205181186547?l=www.miashabooks.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/feeds/340977205181186547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7663798633676213551&amp;postID=340977205181186547' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/340977205181186547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7663798633676213551/posts/default/340977205181186547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.miashabooks.com/2008/08/diary-of-mistress.html' title='Diary of a Mistress'/><author><name>webmaster</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00837402371646425387</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3KIJDLwCEKc/SJ2pLf3eyrI/AAAAAAAAAFo/1MAw2r0TTwM/s72-c/diary+of+mistress.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
