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Tomorrow's Grace....Book 2
Tomorrow's Grace....Book 2
Tomorrow's Grace....Book 2
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Tomorrow's Grace....Book 2

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Tomorrow's Grace is book two of the continuing fast paste saga of Old Joe trying to save the lives of his executed friend's children; who are grown and caught up in pimping, drug dealing, murder, and homelessness. Frank Junior, fights God's anointing while ruling the streets, and trying to send as many thugs to hell as he can. Tomorrow's Grace is filled with thrills, heart pounding moments, and humor. It wil touch all of your emotions-you will laugh and cry while also filled with anger. This book continues to send warning to those who take their family and friends for granted, and think that there will always be a tomorrow.
LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateJun 21, 2011
ISBN9781462029570
Tomorrow's Grace....Book 2
Author

Dr. Akeam Amonphis Simmons

Dr. Akeam A. Simmons lives in Hoover Alabama. He has been writing for over twenty years, and has already written seven books; he writes short novels, poetry, and self help books. He is also an artist, and a martial arts expert. Dr. Simmons has Doctorate degrees in Theology and Psychology. He is also the pastor of Liberty Baptist Church in Alabaster Alamaba. He has two daughters-Nequisa and Keandra, and one grand daughter-Markayla Simmons.

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    Book preview

    Tomorrow's Grace....Book 2 - Dr. Akeam Amonphis Simmons

    Tomorrow’s Grace….Book 2

    Dr. Akeam Amoniphis Simmons

    iUniverse, Inc.

    Bloomington

    Tomorrow’s Grace….Book 2

    Copyright © 2011 by Dr. Akeam Amoniphis Simmons.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    iUniverse books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

    iUniverse

    1663 Liberty Drive

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    1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-4620-2956-3 (pbk)

    ISBN: 978-1-4620-2957-0 (ebk)

    Printed in the United States of America

    iUniverse rev. date: 06/08/2011

    TO MY DAUGHTERS

    Nequisa, Keandra, Kayla

    Allow me to extend my apologies afore-hand for any language within the context of this novel that might appear offensive to some readers; for it is impossible to capture the full essence of the character without mimicking the dialog for which is congruent to his life—For it is how we say things that color the canvas of our souls. I chose to be true to the text for which I have labored to unfold the sometimes hidden messages under scores of traditions and self righteousness. Akeam

    TOMORROW’S GRACE

    Contents

    CHAPTER ONE

    CHAPTER TWO

    CHAPTER THREE

    CHAPTER FOUR

    CHAPTER FIVE

    CHAPTER SIX

    CHAPTER SEVEN

    CHAPTER EIGHT

    CHAPTER NINE

    CHAPTER TEN

    CHAPTER ELEVEN

    CHAPTER TWELVE

    CHAPTER THIRTEEN

    CHAPTER FOURTEEN

    CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

    CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

    CHAPTER NINETEEN

    CHAPTER TWENTY

    CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

    CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

    CHAPTER TWENY THREE

    CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

    CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

    CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

    CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

    CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

    CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

    CHAPTER THIRTY

    CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

    CHAPTER THIRY TWO

    CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

    CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

    CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

    CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

    CHAPTER ONE

    Old Joe sat in the still silence of his jail cell. It had been a year and a half since Frank’s execution. It was cold; the cell was always cold during the winter and always hot during the summer. Streaks of pain raced across Joe’s chest and settled in his left arm. He had been silent and withdrawn since Frank’s execution. Old Joe no longer had a thirst for life; no longer had a thirst to help the new inmates-he now thought that it was pointless and futile. He refused to call for help; he wanted to just ease away in the darkness of his cell.

    CHAPTER TWO

    Behind a little hole in the wall restaurant in Midtown New York, down 23rd street, Julia crouched down beside a small smelly dumpster. Sweat ran profusely down her face as she held her stomach for dear life. She muffled her cries, and wimpled softly. Her stomach pains were now racing only minutes apart. No… . No… . NO. She moaned softly to herself. Amidst scattered trash, empty whisky bottles and crushed beer cans. Julia painfully and unwontedly prepared to bring her unwanted bastard child into the cold uncaring world.

    A wino peeped out from under a pile of cardboard boxes as he held on tightly to his bottle of wine. Julia cried out again as a sharp burst of pain streaked down her stomach and rested in her vagina. She laid back, spread her legs widely apart and pushed hard as she could while tears rolled down her face. The dirty old wino took a big gulp from his bottle and then nervously slung the cardboard boxes away from him.

    Oh God… . Oh God… She whimpered again and again amidst burst of pain and horrid emotions.

    With only a last bit of her dignity left, she wanted to pull her dress down to hide her nakedness from the burning staring eyes of the grisly wino, but she couldn’t. She only had strength enough for the task at hand-to birth this baby by herself; a baby she had hid under too big, too loosely fitting clothes.

    CHAPTER THREE

    Joe could no longer bear the pain. A sudden urge to live sprang upon him. He struggled to sit up, and dropped hard to the metal prison floor. He crawled; only able to use one arm, he inched, and stopped… . inched, and stopped… . inched, and stopped. After what seemed like an eternity, Old Joe finally reached the front of his cell. Desperately he tried to yell, but nothing would come out. His words were imprisoned by a torrent of unceasing, unrelenting pain.

    Lordy… . Lordy… . Please I’z don’t wants ta die like dis. He said to himself barely above a whisper. His thoughts raced across his mind like beads upon a wooden floor. How could he awaken T.C. in the next cell if he could not talk and barely could move? He noticed three tin cups lying next to him on the cold floor; cups left there from drinking last night with T.C and Poochie-Tin cups that he had argued with T.C to pick up and throw away; now seems to be his only saving grace.

    CHAPTER FOUR

    Julia pushed hard with all of her might. Sweat mingled with tears leaped from her face and splashed violently upon the dirty ground under her. Suddenly, a tiny slimy infant popped with hellish release from her womb and hit the ground hard like a piece of butcher’s meat landing upon a cold steel cutting table. Breathing heavily, she watched in torrents of horror while her new child lay there still and lifeless-covered with blood and slimy mucus. A cord of flesh ran from the infant’s stomach back inside of Julia’s pain filled womb. She pushed hard again… . and again… . and again until a core of flesh covered with blood oozed from her vagina and eased to the ground and lay beside the infant. Her legs still flung opened, she lay back onto the ground exhausted and weakened.

    Lying there exhausted, unable to even lower her legs, she trembled fiercely. A thousand thoughts raced through Julia’s head; thoughts of yesterday when her father and mother were still alive; and before her father’s imprisonment.

    Suddenly her thoughts were shattered. She was startled; feared raced though her body like a ball of hornets stinging her everywhere. She felt the wino mounting her, crawling upon her like a vulture devouring a helpless dying caucus lying beside the road. She tried to scream, but she had no strength; no strength to fight; no, not even enough to lower her legs. She closed her eyes as tears streamed down her face, and she prayed that he would be like all the other dogs that had molested her-it never lasted long.

    He smelt horrible-like trash that had been sitting beside the road in the sun for a few weeks. Rivers of pain flooded her womb as she felt his intrusive penetration.

    Oh god, she whispered. This can’t be happening. She felt his musty breaths upon her neck as he grunted and groaned like a raging beast of the field that had no feelings-only lust, unbridled, savaged lust. Suddenly, she felt his unholy release as this devil of a man’s semen emptied deep inside of her.

    A scream leaped from her mouth and filled the alley. Quickly he crawled off of her and hurriedly pulled up his ragged smelly pants. He put one finger over his lips and gestured for Julia to be quiet.

    Sssshhhhhh, he said as he began to stagger away. He stopped, looked down at the still mucus covered infant, and took his foot and poked it to see if it was alive.

    You leave my baby alone you devil; you damned wino. Julia screamed as she rolled onto her side to get to her lifeless child-crawling with every bit of strength left in her; inch by inch, she pulled herself upon her side with one outstretched arm. Even though she wanted it not, her motherly instincts overwhelmed her.

    Me, a devil-huh, why I ain’t the one back in this damned filthy alley trying to get rid of one of the Lord’s new born. Um back here cause life put me back here; you here cause you chose to be—so whose the damned devil-me or you. He paused, took a big gulp from his bottle of wine. What was I supposed to do? Um a man; in the bottom of life, but still a man. What was I supposed to do? You laying there like that. You know how long it’s been since I been with a woman?

    Julia just lay there weeping as she cuddled the still infant in her bosom.

    We need to get together to help each other out of this hole we’re in. I’ll help you get rid of this dead baby. You know you’ll go to jail if they find out-don’t you. He snapped; looking sternly down at Julia. Hell, I’ll report you-I need you and you need me. Um not that bad when I get cleaned up.

    Julia said nothing; she just lay there upon the hard pavement, listened, and wept.

    Is it a deal?

    Still she said nothing.

    He reached down and pried the dead infant from Julia’s arms, and tossed it into the dumpster, and covered it with trash; and then bent down and helped Julia to her feet.

    She wept silently; for she felt that she had no choice but to accept his deal. She remembered her father dying in prison. It had torn their family apart. Julia could not even bare the thought of prison; so, she accepted her rapist as her new friend-no-master, for she knew that all he wanted was her body. Again, she found herself in a loveless relationship… . used by another dog of a man

    They staggered, him from wine, and her from pain, arm in arm out of the shadows of the alley trying to distance themselves from the dead baby. Julia wept silently as she slowly trekked onward.

    CHAPTER FIVE

    Joe grabbed one of the tin cups and banged it on the metal bars. He banged it, and banged it, but to his desperation and disappointment, T.C didn’t move.

    Damned alley cat; any other time dis fool would have been all up in my business, whispered Old Joe to himself. Choose ta nite ta sleep like a bear, and mind his own business.

    He kept clanging upon the bars; pain kept rising-more intensely now than before.

    Old coon; you gots to give up the banging man. T.C muttered brokenly. Trying to get some beauty sleep.

    Joe’s eyes widened. With renewed hope, he banged the old can as hard and as fast as he could. Desperately, he tried to call out to T.C, but still no words would come. He knew that his only hope for survival lay in T.C; for Poochie and Ray Ray slept like bears in the cell on his other side. No, his hope was that God would stir up T.C.

    Old Joe, what are you doing man He said, as he sat up groggily upon the side of the bunk rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his long hair.

    Old Joe just kept on banging… . and banging… . and banging… . and banging.

    T.C rose and slowly staggered over to the corner of his cell. Joe, what’s up old dude?

    Old Joe wanted to scream help, but still, nothing would roll from his lips. He just dept on banging, and banging… . and banging… . and banging.

    Joe, are you alright? T.C asked; now, with every bit of sleep gone. Joe… . Old Joe… . You alright?

    Old Joe kept banging. with all of his strength, and with all of his might. He tried desperately to yell out. Lord please let something come from my mouth. Suddenly, a loud groan pierced the silence and echoed in T.C’s ears.

    Old Joe… . Old Joe… . You sick… . You sick man?

    The banging stopped!!!!

    Guards… . Guards… . Guards, yelled T.C franticly. Guards… . Guards.

    His screams shattered the silence as other inmates began to grumble out of their sleep while the guards raced to T.C’s cell to see what was wrong.

    Several days later, Old Joe’s eyes trickled open in the prison hospital. Everything was all blurry. Old Joe kept blinking, kelp trying to focus his eyes.

    Now, you got to stop doing that Old dude cause somebody in here is going to think that you crazy. T.C said smiling while looking into Old Joe’s face.

    Would you move back, said Old Joe trying to turn his head to one side. I ain’t want ta kiss you… you know.

    You better hush Old dude cause um the one that saved you, said T.C. I had to give you mouth to mouth.

    Old Joe’s eyes got big as he stared sternly at T.C. I know thems lies

    What? T.C said. I had to save you.

    No wonder I got dis bad taste in my mouth.

    T.C and the incoming nurse just burst out into a hard laugh.

    Um just kidding old dude. I didn’t kiss you. I don’t go that way. If you had needed that, you sure would not be waking up here. You’d be waking up in heaven somewhere.

    The door to the hospital bay flung opened. One of the guards stepped in-slapping his night stick in his hand. He scanned the room until his beady penetrating eyes rested upon T.C. Let’s go. You got visitors.

    Now that’s what um talking bout old dude, said T.C patting Old Joe softly on the shoulder, and then turning and

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