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Place your ad here for only $15.00! Reach thousands of writers and visitors! CLICK HERE
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MY NEWS:
For Immediate Release Contact: Rhonda R. Allen (513) 322-5263
Spiritual/Dramatic Writer from Dayton, OH due to release her debut novel Growing Pains.
Dayton, OH January 12, 2008
“Without struggle, there is no progress.”- Fredrick Douglas. That saying is so true when it comes to Tonia. Her struggle, strength, and barriers she encounters, change her life and makes her the epiphany of strength and devotion in this modern tale. Feeling denied in turn for abandonment and reservation; Tonia is a loner coping without help, for a better choice of words, burying pain behind fake smiles. She struggles in making sense of her life while being thrown a few monkey wrenches in the things and people she thought she could always count on; however, they threaten to strip her of the will to heal from an abortion and the abandonment of both parents. She searches for love, answers, and evenness without sensing the evils at bay.
Growing Pains, an epic novel written by newcomer Rhonda Allen, will release this January. Tonia, a teenage girl, raised by her grandmother, lacks emotional, nurturing, and spiritual balance needed in facing a domino effect of life’s circumstances, a true-to-life story that women, young and old, should have in their collection. The adventurous and controversial moments brought in this fictional novel, of narrative form, causes laughter, makes you cry, forces you to think, and more importantly, it will make you aware. Every low moment leads the way to humanizing the spirit within and moving to the next challenge. Rhonda’s deep and inspiring writing opens your senses and eases the soul.
Rhonda Allen is a new author. The Dayton, OH Native is a twenty eight year old single mother, cosmetologist, and college student at Sinclair Community College. Issues that lead character Tonia faces, in this inspiring fable are reminiscent to the struggles that Rhonda, and many other women, have faced in their lives.
Rhonda’s gift of writing stems from her heart and her own experiences, allowing realistic, emotional, and spiritually elevating stories.
Growing Pains can be ordered through the following methods: www.lulu.com, www.createspace.com, or send an email with inquiries for discounts and/or promotional sales.
Growing Pains, ISBN 978-1-4348-3592-5, 6 x 9 trade paperback, 286 pages, $15.00 retail book price. Capture the first glance of this rising star and make Rhonda Allen a household name! To book the author for an author event, or book signing, contact by sending a request to rhondasbooks@yahoo.com.
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MY FAVORITE LINKS:
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MY RESIDENCE INFO:
City: Dayton
State/Country: Ohio
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BOOKS PUBLISHED:
 Prologue
‘Momma, is that you?” I ask softly, confused after all this time. So often, I’ve found myself at this very place, thinking of her. Madison Park has become my sanctuary; my ‘thinking chair’.
“Yes baby it’s me.” Then it happens, for the first time in my life she smiles.
My thoughts had gotten the best of me as I walk deeper into my temple. Madison Park consists of a school on the far left and a road separating a tennis court, which sits to the left of the pavilion. To the right is a small activity gym for smaller children, closer to the shelters' twenty-foot long picnic table. A track enclosed a soccer field. In the rear of the park are three regular sized tables. They were spaced fifty feet or so apart. Swings, slides, and the second half the bike path also accompanied them.
I sit on the picnic table closer to the first half of the bike trail. It begins beside the high school, just off my street near the creek, all the way up to the park. It was there that I saw her.
She stands there with her slender five-seven body. She wore what I remember being her favorite hairstyle, a roller set that swept up in the back, except for the little she let hang at the nape. Her outfit, resembling the last one I saw her in, was a cream and brown skirt that drops to her ankles with a matching shirt stopping just below her waistline.
I refuse to get all excited like her visit should be celebrated...for what? She had a chance in my life and she chose to leave. She appeared the same, yet, somehow in someway; different. This time she seems… happy.
“Don’t be afraid,” she says finally breaking the silence between us. As she moved closer, I felt the sense of peace her presence offers. “I know you’re scared but don’t be. In this life, you have to follow your heart.” Looking away and inhaling the scenery she continued. “People can’t always understand a situation for you.”
“Is that why you left? You felt like having three kids wasn’t a good choice for you? Well, that answers about half of all the questions I’ve posted. Why are you here? Your soul couldn’t find a place to rest until everyone accepted how you played us?” I questioned in frustration.
“I know Doll, and I did love you. I loved you in a way only a mother could. You remind me so much of myself at your age,” she chuckles at the thought. Her having enjoyment at my expense pissed me off badly.
“Doll, I wish I could cease the pain, but you have to make your own choices”
“So why don’t you stay and help me momma? I need you, we all needed you.” She watched me, without the comfort that I longed for or a word.
“Momma” my lips mouth, and on the verge of tears, it was the only remark I could conjure up. She looked at me, then through me, and touched my heart.
In searching her eyes momma reply, “I can’t take you with me baby. You have to live your life. I hope through the decisions you make you’ll gain strength. Sometimes the agony will weaken your very being, but you have to stay strong.
“Stay strong my Doll.” Momma turned to walk away, and instantly the desperation returns.
I jump off the table in pursuit. I run as fast as my legs will permit me to go. “Wait!” I yell, consciously avoiding the broken tree limbs.
She continues walking, slow and gracefully, she strolls along as reaching her resembles impossible. “Momma, please stay. I’m sorry!”
This time she stopped, glaring into my eyes with sorrow, and says, “Doll, it’s a boy.”
I fight in catching my breath as the running and crying has choked my lungs. I crave to understand. I try rationalizing how a mother could do this to her own child. Why was she leaving me? What did I do to make her never again need to partake in my life? Again, I am left alone without explanations, no real apologies, and so many uncertainties. Then, without any further delay, she vanished from my life forever, again.
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