“Where did the time go?” That’s a common topic of conversation these days, and one I ask myself almost every day. Before you know it, the kindle-countdown-one-year celebration for In the Promised Land will be over. I hope you took advantage of the deep discounts over these 3 days to get your copy of this captivating novel.
In order to whet your appetite further while there are still a few hours left, I am posting an excerpt that captures one of the scenes written around the true event which forms the backdrop of this novel – the bombing of the police headquarters as a small Muslim group staged a bloody coup in Port-of-Spain, Trinidad.
Excerpt
As he checked his
watch, something on the television screen caught his eye. A man resembling Dennis
Kallipersad, the evening news anchor, sat at a table. Behind him, stood two men
dressed in army uniforms, carrying rifles. Derek frowned. Not one of those bad
plays at this time of day. It was just after four. He was about to switch to
the other station when the man sitting said in a tremulous voice, “We have
suspended regular programming to bring you this report. Trinidad and Tobago
television was taken over by the Muslimeen forces of Yasin Aboud Bakr this
afternoon around 2.30 p.m. It has been learned that our sister radio station,
Radio 610, has been taken over. Muslimeen forces also stormed the Parliament
building and bombed the Police Headquarters on St. Vincent Street earlier this
afternoon. Motorists are urged to stay away from those areas.”
Derek dashed
across the room and yanked the bathroom door open. June stood there drying
herself, but for the first time her nakedness failed to excite him. He grabbed
her by the hand and ran with her back to the bed. Snatching up her clothing, he
thrust them at her. “Here, get dressed, quick.”
“Honey, my hair —”
“Never mind,
you’ll fix it in the car.”
While she
scrambled to get into her clothes, Derek shoved his feet into his socks and shoes,
then felt his pocket for his keys. June, clad in underwear, paused, looking at
the television. “What’s going on? Is that a play?”
“Here. Put on your
skirt.” He held out the garment, she stepped into it, and he quickly pulled her
zipper up.
She reached for
her jacket. “What’s that about the
Parliament?”
Derek turned off
the TV. “Here’s your jacket, let me help you.” He pushed the sleeve over one
arm, and she shrugged the other arm through.
“Ready? Let’s go.” He grabbed her arm while
she was still buttoning her jacket.
She twisted free.
“Wait. What’s the rush?”
“The Muslims have
taken over. Come on.”
June barely had time
to grab her purse before he dragged her by the hand and out through the door.
Everything seemed
normal as they got into their car, and Derek wondered if it was some type of
hoax. But when they eased into the mainstream of traffic, chaos confronted them.
Drivers turned in the middle of the road, passed on the shoulder, cut in and
out, showing off their skill in amazing ways.
Derek decided to turn around. Signaling, and
not giving the car behind him time to pass, Derek spun the wheel, bringing his
bumper right up to the paint of another car. The driver shook his fist and
mouthed something, but Derek ignored him, backed up, then zoomed off in the
opposite direction. After a half mile they encountered another traffic jam. This
time they saw the reason. Police were stopping everyone and checking their
identification.
“Oh, boy,” Derek
muttered, leaning his head back against the head rest.
June switched on
the radio. An announcer’s voice came through the static. “Motorists are asked
to avoid St. Vincent Street where the Police Headquarters building is still
smoldering after this afternoon’s bombing —”
Derek switched off
the radio, cursing under his breath. June’s face had gone pale. She stretched
out her hand to turn the radio back on, but he growled, “Leave it alone.”
“I heard something
about Police Headquarters —”
“I said leave it alone.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering. He dared not look at her. He hated speaking to her like that especially after the lovely time they had just had, but he was scared as he’d never been in his life. His father worked at Police Headquarters.
So, I won’t hold you up any longer. Get your copy of In the Promised Land while the price is still $2.99.
Tomorrow, June 29th, will be one year since In the Promised Land, Cbook 3 of the Egypt trilogy, made its debut into the world. And in order to to celebrate, I have arranged a countdown deal starting today and going up to Jul. 1. Join me and others who have read and enjoyed this gripping novel by celebrating this important milestone.
Here’s what one reviewer had to say about In the Promised Land:
In the Promised Land is a captivating story of family and forbidden love. A story that captures your attention at the very beginning and holds it until the unexpected ending. In the Promised Land will take you on an emotional roller coaster that will have you laughing one minute and crying the next. A story that will stay with you long after reading. I was so drawn in that I finished reading this in one night. In the Promised Land is the perfect beach read. – Truly Trendy
In the Promised Land – Backstory
If you have been reading my blog, you would know that In thePromised Land is based on a true event—a horrible blotch on the history of Trinidad & Tobago that took place when a small Islamic group calling themselves the Jamaat al Muslimeen staged a short-lived coup. They held the government hostage, killed innocent people and caused widespread carnage. Marva, the protagonist, and her family—like the rest of the country—were deeply shaken by this event.
Always the levelheaded one, the rest of the family looked to her to help them make sense of this terrible tragedy, but for the first time in her adult life, Marva felt her faith floundering. It was against this background she came to realize that loving a man and needing his support when unthinkable situations arise did not mean she loved or needed God any less.
In the Promised Land wraps up the Egypt series, which has sexual abuse as its central topic Before I leave you, what is the biggest issue you have about this topic? Do you think enough is being done in today’s society to help victims of sexual abuse? Drop me a line and let me know your thoughts. To learn more about my books and special offers, please sign up for my newsletter.
Danger lurks around every corner for career military man and government, secret operative Nehemiah Bolden. When he continues to have nightmares of an assignment gone wrong, he decides it is time to retire from the military and find another career path. Just one thing stopping him, a ghost from his past.
Nehemiah meets an attractive woman while on vacation and has an overwhelming need to protect her. He soon discovers that meeting her is more than a coincidence. Over the years, he has kept her safe but now their pasts may put their lives in jeopardy again. They need to both trust in a love like no other.
About the Author
Lisa Washington is a Contemporary Christian Fiction author and a serial entrepreneur. She is the co-founder of the Washington Way LLC, which is the umbrella company for Washington Way Publishing, Washington Way Travel, Washington Way Financial and Ms. Lisa Weddings.
Her first novel When You Least Expect It received an African American Literary Show Award for Best Christian Fiction. She has also published More Than You Know, which is the second novel of the Faith Series.
Lisa Washington was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. After serving in the United States Navy, she then went on to obtain a Bachelor of Arts from Wayne State University, an MBA from Averett University and an MFA in creative writing from Butler University.
She now resides in Noblesville, Indiana with her family.
“Angel, Keep your eyes
open. The informant said we’d know him
when we see him.”
“Copy that, Civic.”
Darkness filled the room
and smoke seeped from the vents. Someone was trying to make visibility near
impossible. Nehemiah switched to his night vision goggles. He was perched just
inside of the furnace room in the back of the hotel’s ballroom. He counted 22
hostages and four shooters. The smoke was
making it difficult for Nehemiah to keep his eyes on the target.
“Angel, come in.”
“Go, Civic.”
“We have a friendly to your 9 o’clock.”
Nehemiah heard her
voice before all hell broke loose and shots rang out.
Nehemiah sat straight up in bed, drenched in a full sweat. Like every other night, the
terrors woke him up at the same moment in the dream. He relived that tragic
event, night after night. Why him? Why
her? He always questioned himself. Nothing could change the past, but the
dreams continued to come.
Like clockwork, he went into the kitchen of his one-bedroom
apartment in Portsmouth, VA and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He sat in
front of his television, but never turned
it on. Nehemiah wanted to close his eyes, but every time he did, he saw her
face, her eyes, and her blood.
Draining the contents of the bottle, he went back into his bedroom
and sat on the edge of the bed. Face to palms, he sat there for a few minutes, feeling
weary.
“Come back to bed. It’s cold under these sheets,” a soft feminine
voice said.
Nehemiah needed to stop this philandering he was doing. His actions
went against every principle and every value he was raised with.
“I’ll be right there,” he responded.
What was her name? He couldn’t remember her name or where he met her. Yeah, it was time to change his lifestyle.
