{"id":135,"date":"2014-10-15T13:36:00","date_gmt":"2014-10-15T13:36:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.tamaragranthambooks.com\/2014\/10\/why-pregnant-women-shouldnt-be-writers\/"},"modified":"2015-11-13T15:20:46","modified_gmt":"2015-11-13T15:20:46","slug":"why-pregnant-women-shouldnt-be-writers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/why-pregnant-women-shouldnt-be-writers\/","title":{"rendered":"Why Pregnant Women Shouldn’t be Writers"},"content":{"rendered":"
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 <\/span>    <\/span>  <\/span><\/span>As I was reading over the final edits of my book, Shine 12–Storms and Spirits<\/i>, I found a huge mistake. Chapter 8 was missing. Instead, it was a duplicate of chapter 7. Unfortunately, I think a few people may have bought the book before the correct version was released. Please contact me if you are one of these people and I will send you the corrected version. Or, you can just read chapter 8 right here. <\/span><\/b><\/div>\n
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\nYou can follow this link<\/a> to purchase the correct version of Storms and Spirits<\/i>.<\/span><\/b><\/div>\n
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\nIt’s really a bummer because this was one of my favorite chapters. You learn more about Memphis’s mother, plus get some insight into Memphis’s feelings for June. I’m trying not to be too depressed. Pregnancy does that to me already. I don’t need more reasons for stress. Alas, I will do what I can to repair an otherwise disastrous situation.<\/span><\/b><\/div>\n
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\nIf you bought the book after October 11, you should have the correct copy. I’m really sorry about all the confusion, but I’m hoping to make lemonade from lemons, and hopefully not repeat the same mistakes in the future…<\/span><\/b><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\nCHAPTER EIGHT<\/o:p><\/span><\/b><\/div>\n
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\n     Tourists crowded around us as we made our way down Bourbon Street. The jazz sounds of the accordion and saxophone drifted from the performers who sat under awnings or along the sidewalks. Smells of fried pastries coated with powdered sugar, accented with the spicy scent of gumbo, filled the air. In the distance, I watched the paddle wheels\u2019 smokestacks peeking above the rooftops as they drifted down the Mississippi. If my life weren\u2019t filled with people trying to kill me and my best friend missing and possibly dead, I might have enjoyed it.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     Memphis seemed to melt into the crowd, as if he was part of the city\u2019s beating heart. His eyes stayed focused straight ahead. I wished I knew what he was thinking. There were times that I felt I got to know him. Other times he was a stranger to me, closed off and distant. Sometimes I wondered who the real Memphis Stone was.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     We turned down a back alley where the crowd disappeared. We traded the sounds of laughter and music for silence the deeper we walked. A sign hung above a door. On it was a rough painting of an open palm with an eye in the center. Below the painting were the words Madame Angel\u2019s Psychic Readings<\/i>. I noticed that the door was propped open, and a sign sitting by the door read $5 palm readings<\/i>.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     We stepped inside, immediately assaulted with the pungent aromas of burning incense and cigarette smoke. It almost masked the stale scent of cat urine. There was no a\/c in the room, making the place suffocating hot. An old lamp, minus the lampshade, sat on the table. The only window was covered with layers of burgundy fabric. A table, draped with layers of the same fabric, took up the center of the room. A set of dog-eared tarot cards lay haphazardly on the table. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\nA woman sat in a metal chair at the back of the room. She smoked a cigarette as she stroked a tabby cat sitting on her lap. She eyed us through dark, suspicious eyes.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cYou,\u201d she gasped as Memphis moved toward her. She stood. The cat leapt away. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cHello, Miss Angel,\u201d he said.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She took a step toward Memphis. Her dark skin looked wrinkled, as if years of smoking had sapped away all the moisture. \u201cMemphis Lavalle?\u201d she whispered. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cMemphis Stone,\u201d he corrected her. \u201cI\u2019ve come here to ask a few questions.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She raised an eyebrow. \u201cQuestions?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cYes. About my mother.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She crossed her arms. \u201cI won\u2019t discuss anything with you.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cWhy not?\u201d <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cBecause you bring nothing but bad luck.\u201d She spat a glob of spittle at his feet. \u201cI won\u2019t have nothing to do with your kind.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     Memphis crossed his arms. \u201cMy kind? What exactly is my kind?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She took a draw from her cigarette. \u201cCursed,\u201d she hissed.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     His shoulders stiffened. He\u2019d mentioned a curse once before. After watching every person around him die, I found it hard to disagree. But he couldn\u2019t seriously believe in a curse, could he? Yes, he had horrible bad luck, but that didn\u2019t mean he was at the mercy of some supernatural voodoo.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cNo questions.\u201d She waved him away. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     He pulled a stack of paper money from his pocket. He counted out a twenty and handed it to her. \u201cOddly enough, I\u2019ve come for a reading.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cNo.\u201d She pushed his hand away. \u201cNo reading. I don\u2019t want your money. Bad luck. Bad spirits. I wouldn\u2019t tamper with your kind for all the money\u2014\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     I cleared my throat. \u201cActually, I\u2019ve come for a reading.\u201d I took the money from him and held it out to Miss Angel. She seemed to see me for the first time. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cAre you with him?\u201d she asked me.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cYes,\u201d I answered.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She shook her head. \u201cAnyone with him I can\u2019t help. Lord help me, I\u2019ll bring a curse on this place. No questions.\u201d She turned away.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cWait,\u201d I said. \u201cWhat if he leaves? It will be just me and you. He doesn\u2019t need to be involved. I\u2019ll pay extra.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She raised an eyebrow, then snatched my hand. She studied my palm. Her hands were as cold as ice blocks.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She traced her finger down the middle of my palm and stopped at the base of my thumb. \u201cGive me your other hand, child.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     I held it out. She took it and held my fingers in a firm grasp.                \u201cFine,\u201d she finally mumbled. \u201cOne reading. Forty dollars. I charge you extra for bringing him<\/i> in here.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     Memphis stood close to me and placed the cash in my hand. He leaned close, his heartbeat a gentle whisper in my ears. \u201cBe careful,\u201d he said. With his nearness, my stomach gave its usual flutter. He turned and made his way to the door.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     Miss Angel focused on him until he had disappeared. She walked to the door and pulled it closed. The thud echoed through the room. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the dimness.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She pulled a stool from the corner and placed it by the table. \u201cSit,\u201d she said as she found her own chair. The room felt suffocating with its heavy fog of smoke. I hoped I wouldn\u2019t pass out as I took a seat on the stool. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     Miss Angel placed the lamp on the floor, making the light cast eerie shadows over the sunken features of her face, reminding me of a skull. I shifted on the seat, listening to my heart beat loud in my ears.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cYou\u2019re afraid of me, child?\u201d <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     I steadied my breathing, willing my heart to slow down. The hammering decreased to a steady patter. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not afraid.\u201d I thrust out my hand. \u201cCan we get this over with?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She looked at me through narrowed eyes, though a sly smile crept around the corners of her mouth. \u201cHave you ever had a reading before?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cNo.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She took my hand. Her ice-cold skin felt rough against mine. She ran her fingers over the palm of my hand, reminding me of the slithering movements of a snake. \u201cHe\u2019s not right for you, you know. You should leave him now and count yourself lucky.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cExcuse me?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cDon\u2019t act coy, young one. You heard me.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cMemphis and I are not together.\u201d I looked away. \u201cWe can\u2019t be.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She leaned forward. \u201cMiss Angel knows when you\u2019re lying. Like you know. The way you hear the heartbeats. The way you can see a lie.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     I stiffened. \u201cYou know?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     If she knew that I was a Shine, then I couldn\u2019t stay. I had to leave now. But I still needed information from her. I forced myself to stay on the stool, although everything inside me told me to run.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She held my fingers tight. \u201cI can tell you that he\u2019s not right for you. But you won\u2019t listen. Of course you won\u2019t. It\u2019s the heart that thinks. The mind has no power when love is involved.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cBut we\u2019re not together,\u201d I repeated with steel in my voice.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She leaned so close I saw the flecks of yellow in her eyes. \u201cYou have a gift, yes? A gift to hear hearts, a gift to see blood. Let me tell you about my gift. I can feel what other folks feel. I can see his feelings. I hear them speaking loud in my mind. Plain as day. I see how he feels about you. Maybe he hides it from you. But he\u2019s in love with you.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     My heart skipped a beat. \u201cNo,\u201d was all I managed. <\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cYes.\u201d Her voice grew louder. \u201cHe cares about you. He loves you. But his love is tainted. It will kill you, I\u2019ll tell you that. He brings death to everyone he loves. You\u2019ll die just like the ones before you. He\u2019s cursed.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cI don\u2019t believe in curses.\u201d My voice was barely louder than a whisper.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She shrugged. Her fingers tightened around my wrist. \u201cYou\u2019ll learn. Soon enough, you\u2019ll see, foolish child that you are.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     I yanked my hand free. \u201cThis isn\u2019t why I came here,\u201d I snapped. \u201cI need answers. Who is his mother?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She leaned back and lit another cigarette. The click from the lighter filled the silence. She took a draw from her cigarette before answering. \u201cJoissine was a client. She came to me once a week, every Sunday at three o\u2019clock. Always wanted another reading, wanted to know if her husband was cheating, wanted to know how rich she would be if she stayed with him. I obliged. I told her what she wanted to hear. Like you, that\u2019s all she could hear anyway.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\nI ignored her quip. \u201cWho was her husband?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cJames Lavalle.\u201d Her face wrinkled with disgust as she said his name. \u201cScientist. Forward thinker.\u201d She chuckled. \u201cMad man.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cWhy do you say that?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She pointed to her head. \u201cI\u2019ve felt the feelings of thousands of people. Since I was old enough to remember I\u2019ve felt those feelings. After awhile, you begin to realize that everyone feels the same things. Happiness, anger, lust. We\u2019re not so different from each other. But him.\u201d Fear flashed through her eyes. \u201cI\u2019d never felt anything like that before. The evil inside that man is something that stayed with me. Even today. The nightmares.\u201d With shaky fingers she took another draw. She blew out a breath of smoke before speaking again. \u201cI knew he was a monster. I told Joissine. She didn\u2019t listen, of course. And then she got pregnant with that man\u2019s child. I wasn\u2019t surprised when she got sick. That child was poisoning her. He knew it too. He knew what would happen once she conceived, once his blood mixed with hers.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cHis blood?\u201d I sat up. \u201cWhat about his blood?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She shook her head. \u201cI don\u2019t know what he\u2019d done to himself. Altered himself somehow. He\u2019d used her. She was his experiment. That child was his experiment. She came to me, half dead, beaten, wanted another reading.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     Her heart rate increased. She puffed on the cigarette as if it was her lifeline. \u201cI saw something that day. Her child, her son, he would kill her. I told her to end the pregnancy while she still could. I warned her, and then I begged her. As usual, she didn\u2019t listen. I worked as her midwife back then, my younger years. The moment I laid eyes on that babe I knew he\u2019d be just like his father. When she gave away her child for adoption, she knew she\u2019d made a mistake. She should\u2019ve killed that child when she had the chance.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cShe divorced her husband after that. Moved up north. Remarried. I haven\u2019t seen her since then.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cWhat about Mr. Lavalle?\u201d I asked. \u201cWhere did he go?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She shook her head. \u201cI don\u2019t know. And I don\u2019t go looking for him. You would be wise to do the same.\u201d Her heart beat with an agitated rhythm. She wasn\u2019t telling me something.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cWhat else do you know about him?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cI know that he isn\u2019t like you and me. He doesn\u2019t feel feelings like most people. There\u2019s a reason his son is cursed. That boy has the same blood as his father. Leave him. Leave him now before it\u2019s too late.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     I swallowed. Sweat ran down my temples, stinging my eyes. \u201cI can\u2019t.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n      Her eyes bore holes through mine. \u201cThen you\u2019ll die like the rest.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\nI suppressed a shiver. \u201cYou still haven\u2019t told me where to find Mr. Lavalle.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cWhat makes you think I would know?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     \u201cCall it intuition.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n     She eyed me. \u201cMight try the old plantation. He kept his lab somewhere on the property. Course this was years ago.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\nI shook my head. We\u2019d already tried the plantation. Going back wasn\u2019t an option. Our last hope was those journals, if there was anything to be salvaged. \u201cI need more information. Anything you can tell me would be helpful. Please.\u201d I hope she heard the desperation in my voice.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n
\n      \u201cAs a matter of fact, I do know something. I know he\u2019s looking for you. Right now. I know his assassin is following you. He\u2019s closer than you realize.\u201d Her smile sent shivers down my spine. The lamplight made her eyes gleam as she leaned forward. \u201cHe\u2019ll find you before you find him.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n


<\/span> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

       As I was reading over the final edits of my book, Shine 12–Storms and Spirits, I found a huge mistake. Chapter 8 was missing. Instead, it was a duplicate of chapter 7. Unfortunately, I think a few people may have bought the book before the correct version was released. Please contact me […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-135","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=135"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1323,"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135\/revisions\/1323"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=135"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=135"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/tamaragrantham.com\/StagingSite\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=135"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}