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  soulmates

  dissipate

  Mary B. Morrison

  All copyrighted material within is

  Attributor Protected.

  DAFINA BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue New York,

  NY 10022

  Copyright © 2000, 2001 by Mary B. Morrison

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  All Kensington titles, imprints and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotions, premiums, fund-raising, and educational or institutional use. Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Special Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 850 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10022. Attn: Special Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off. Dafina and the Dafina logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  First Dafina Hardcover Printing: June 2001

  First Dafina Paperback Printing: April 2003

  20 19 18 17 16 15

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Cover

  BOOK YOUR PLACE ON OUR WEBSITE AND MAKE THE READING CONNECTION!

  Title Page

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  The art finding your soulmate

  Introduction

  One Understand Your Spirit Be true to yourself

  REFLECTIVE MOMENT Soulmates Dissipate Chapter 4

  Two Spiritually Connect with the Universe Take time to smell the roses

  REFLECTIVE MOMENT Soulmates Dissipate Chapter 4

  Three Stop Suppressing Your Spiritual Energy Let go of the negative energy

  REFLECTIVE MOMENT Soulmates Dissipate Chapter 13

  Four See What You Hear Hear What You See Eliminate the psychological noise

  REFLECTIVE MOMENT Soulmates Dissipate Chapter 12

  Five Think with Your Head Feel with Your Heart Release Your Inner Spirit

  REFLECTIVE MOMENT Soulmates Dissipate Chapter 5

  Food for thought when you are searching for your soulmate

  Dedicated to My Soulmate:

  Chapter 1

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Dedicated to all soulmates

  lost and found

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, I give God the glory for all my successes, large and small. I’m blessed to have such a wonderful and loving family.

  Thanks to my sisters Andrea and Regina Morrison, Margie Rickerson, and Debra Noel, and to my brothers Wayne and Derrick Morrison, for their undying support for me as an individual and as a writer.

  I am eternally grateful to my deceased great-aunt and great-uncle, Mrs. Ella Beatrice Turner and Mr. Willie Frinkle, for my childhood development.

  Always and forever, I give thanks to my son, Jesse Byrd Jr. for being such a magnificent young man.

  My deepest appreciation goes to my editor, Karen Thomas, my agent, Claudia Menza, and my new friend, Carl Weber, author of Lookin’For Luv. Thanks for believing in my work.

  Words alone cannot express the love and gratitude I have for my mentor, Vyllorya A. Evans. Her x-ray vision, candid voice, words of wisdom, and words of empowerment have carried me through my most challenging moments.

  I’m grateful for the time Carol Taylor devoted from her extremely hectic schedule to candidly critique my work. Her continued support is a blessing.

  Thanks to Mr. Joseph F. Smith for his encouragement and infinite wisdom. His reference of Nelson Mandela’s words adequately fueled the strength and courage I needed to pursue my dreams.

  I deeply thank my publicists, Felicia Polk of Felicia and Associates, and L. Peggy Hicks of Tri-Com, for promoting my work.

  Special thanks to my friends Carmen Polk, Michaela Burnett, Marshall Brown, Marilyn Edge, Saul Simington, Tarik Jones, Kenneth Williams, Kendra Hill, the Louisiana Network Group, and my McDonogh #35 Roneagle family for their support.

  Thanks to my hero, former vice president Al Gore, for having the courage and tenacity to stand up for the American people. You proved beyond the shadow of a doubt that no matter how difficult the challenge, it’s imperative to do what is right.

  Thanks to the vast number of reading groups, sororities, organizations, and individuals that have agreed in advance to host signings. Thanks to all of the bookstore owners who are selling my books, and to each and every one of you who are reading and buying my books.

  Last but not least, thanks to my soulmate.

  Chapter 1

  The eternal bond of your Soul Mate gels the existence of your life.

  She vividly remembered their first kiss. Wellington Jones gently placed his strong caramel-colored hand at the nape of her dark chocolate neck and whispered, “Diamond, I’ve wanted to kiss you all night. May I?”

  Jada Diamond Tanner struggled to maintain her composure, but Wellington was making it increasingly difficult. How was she to respond without seeming anxious to kiss this tall, sexy man she’d known for all of sixty minutes, give or take ten?

  She paused, gazed directly into his eyes, and replied, “Only if I choose where you kiss me.” The nearby crowd in the noisy garage became silent. Valet attendants dressed in red jackets and black pants hurried to deliver cars. Although the concert was over, I’ve wanted to kiss you all night was music to her ears.

  Wellington seductively shrugged his left shoulder, nodded, and winked his left eye. He looked like a pro but not at all like a player. The outline of his black Armani suit highlighted all his muscles. The scent of his cologne traveled in the cool fall night breeze, wr
apped around all her senses and danced in her hair. The full moon glowed. His bald head glistened. His thick black eyebrows complemented his dreamy midnight eyes.

  Ladylike, she extended her left hand, because it was more sensuous and sensitive to touch than her right. Plus, she wanted to see how creative this man was, and whether he possessed qualitative skills that would interest her in taking the relationship to a hotter level. She was cool, calm, and collected, on the outside.

  Slowly, he removed his right hand from underneath her dark silky hair, which flowed down to the center of her back. Beep. Beep.” Would someone please move this car! “shouted the man in the black Lexus. She focused, as if they were the only two in the garage. Wellington never missed a beat. He placed Jada’s left hand into his right. A long steady flow of air quietly entered her nostrils. Their souls gelled. Her spirit danced. Smooth man. Better proceed with caution. Although she wasn’t convinced, he was definitely standing in front of the pitcher’s mound prepared to bat.

  Like watching a video in slow motion, he drew her French-manicured hand closer. He licked his lips and positioned his tongue between her index and ring fingers. His tongue penetrated her crevice while his full caramel lips—with a trace of natural cocoa—warmly encircled her adjoining knuckles. She closed her eyes. Moisture seeped between her fingers and thighs. This man had knocked more than the ball out of the park!

  Unexpectedly, her twenty-six-inch waist moved forward. Her shoulders and thirty-six-inch hips jerked backward, in unison. It was Monday morning. Jada sat at her bedroom vanity and gazed out the window. She daydreamed about that kiss. One by one the treetops came into focus. Lots of tall evergreen trees stood behind her penthouse. They swayed back and forth. Fresh air. Serenity. She loved California. So far, Oakland was the only place she’d lived.

  Jada looked at the digital clock on her cherry-wood nightstand. It was six o’clock. Time to begin her daily transformation from looking like Sleeping Beauty to becoming irresistibly drop-dead gorgeous. Time to get ready for work.

  Photo shooting the finest male models from coast to coast was a tough job. She’d had a passion for photography since she was six years old and an infatuation with great-looking men as long as she could remember.

  Unable to move, she sat, thinking about her father. Although he’d passed away three years, seven months, and ten days ago, he’d never left her. She could still hear his deep, Southern drawl.” Diamond.” He’d always call her by her middle name.” There’s nothing like time off from work with a job, with pay. If you don’t have no job, honey, you don’t need no time off.” Daddy was right; he was always right. Jada smiled. Today was definitely designed with Diamond in mind.

  Mr. Terrance Murphy was the new owner of Sensations Communications. He’d purchased the company a year ago when the previous owners liquidated their assets.

  The phone rang six times without an answer. Jada’s finger curved toward the off button. Then faintly she heard:

  “Sensations Communications.”

  “Hi. Karen. I’m glad you answered. I was just about to hang up.”

  Karen was Jada’s loyal assistant, or so she thought.

  “Oh, Jada girl. You know I’m here every morning at six-thirty on the dot.”

  “Yeah, I know. Listen. I won’t be in today, so call Marvin Jackson and reschedule him for Thursday at the same time. Reschedule my Thursday trip to Los Angeles to early Saturday morning. I must arrive no later than seven. And Karen, be sure to call my L.A. client, Terrell Morgan. Tell him he’s rescheduled for eight o’clock.”

  “Consider it done. Will you be in tomorrow?” asked Karen.

  “I’ll see you bright and early. Good-bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Jada pressed nine on the speed dial. Before the phone rang, she hit the off button. Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. She decided to surprise her fiancé. He had recently moved his financial advisory business, Wellington Jones and Associates, into his home.

  Jada cherished surprises. All of them had been good, so far. Her parents bought her first camera when she was seven. It wasn’t her birthday. She traveled with her best friend on a cruise to Mexico when she was eighteen. In college, she received four marriage proposals.” No. No. No. No,” she replied each time. She “crossed her t’s and dotted her i’s.” She refused to be any man’s showpiece. Confidence was a major component of her Lady Leo characteristic.

  Perfect. Jada loved most things hot and steamy. She stepped into the shower and lathered her purple scrunchie with strawberries and peaches shower cream. Leisurely she stroked each part of her five-foot nine-inch temple. The water pulsated against her breasts. Her chocolate nipples hardened. Unable to resist, she licked each one. She turned up the water just a notch, parted her legs, spread her lips, and rotated her clit to the perfect beat. Her eyes closed. Knees bent. Quickly she suppressed her flow.

  The mist suspended in air. Jada stepped onto the purple, green, and gold rug. It was a gift from Wellington while they were at the Mardi Gras in Nawlins. She wrapped the matching towel around her waist and brushed her pearly white teeth. The combined results of Daddy’s money, and the three years she’d worn braces.

  Jada’s hazel-colored almond-shaped eyes reflected from the bathroom mirror. Her slender fingers caressed her radiant skin with chocolate-flavored cocoa butter lite. She glanced at her ben-wa balls and smiled, knowing she would use the real thing today. Jada loved being a woman. She’d do coochie crunches all day long and the men didn’t have a clue. If he was boring, she’d nonchalantly squeeze her gold balls.” Okay, that’s ten sets, ten reps.” On the other hand, if he was interesting, she’d grip so hard she could hear the metal balls grind. She’d mask. And enjoy multiple orgasms.

  She looked at the clock. It was 8:00 A.M. Keys. Purse. Sunglasses. The scent of Zahra and Eunice lingered. The white cotton ankle-length dress with thigh-high splits gently clung. Her diamond anklet—Daddy bought for Valentine’s Day before he died—sparkled. She grabbed her FUBU travel bag with lingerie gear intact. Body and Soul was her favorite “gear” store. They catered to women of contour.

  The front and back splits bared her chocolate thighs to the sun while she cruised in her red convertible. Through her dark designer sunglasses, traffic on the Bay Bridge flowed. Traffic along the Peninsula was a breeze. Her ponytail dangled in the air. The projected high was one hundred degrees. Thoughts of making love on Wellington’s patio by the pool increased her body heat. Let’s get it on. Oh, baby, let’s get it on, echoed on KBLX-FM 102.9. Jada loved to sing ahead of her favorite songs. She adored Marvin Gaye.

  She shifted to a lower gear. The engine roared three-quarters of a mile, until she reached the last house up the hill. An unfamiliar car with D.C. plates sat in the circular driveway between Wellington’s indigo Mercedes and black Expedition. Oh well, he had thousands of clients. Probably one of his out-of-state’s checking on their portfolio.

  Jada looked in the rearview mirror. Hair. Makeup. Flawless. Her peripheral vision detected movement on the balcony above. She glimpsed over the windshield. A beautiful woman disappeared inside Wellington’s bedroom. Jada’s heart raced faster than the hum of the engine.

  She tried to shake it off. She rang the bell. Wellington opened the door. His black silk pa- jama pants—imported from Italy—hung below his waistline. Thoughts of the mysterious woman in her man’s bedroom scrolled Jada’s mind like it was Judgment Day. His bare caramel-candied chest looked like he’d hired a professional sculptor. Silky-smooth hairs separated and defined his eight-pack.

  “Hi, baby.” Wellington kissed Jada’s coffee-colored lips. A glossy golden-brown imprint remained.” Why didn’t you call first?”

  Jada slid her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Who was this woman? Where was this woman? And why in the hell was she in Wellington’s bedroom? She politely said.” I didn’t know I needed to call first.”

  “It’s not that you need to. It’s just
considerate. You know, like I do.”

  In one swoop, Jada braced her Ray Bans on top of her head and released her ponytail.” Let’s skip the preliminaries. Who’s your houseguest?” She was cool. But she really felt like acting a damn fool.

  “Oh, that’s Melanie, from D.C. She had a break from the studio, so Mom invited her to visit and insisted she stay with me. You know how my mother likes showing me off to her friends. Remember, I told you Mom and Dad are in D.C. They’ll be back Friday.” Wellington flexed the right side of his chest and smiled. ‘Just in time to host the Jones family’s thirty-fifth annual barbecue Saturday.” Jada tasted the scent of his Wintergreen Altoids. She inhaled. Wellington’s breath was always fresh.

  “Yes, Wellington, you’ve told me how your parents’ annual barbecues started on your first birthday. Now it’s not only a family tradition but also a societal affair where prestigious folk gather to let down their hair. And let the good times role.” Jada spoke so fast, she could hardly hear the words coming out of her mouth. Wellington clamped his hands behind his back.

  “I clearly remember you saying no matter how successful we become, we still know how to throw a great barbecue. I’ve heard the story time and time again. And you didn’t invite me last year because we’d just met and you didn’t know what I’d think of your parents’ tremendous sociopolitical involvement with numerous affluent organizations. Now, let’s get back to Melanie.” By the time Jada got to her point, she had to take a deep breath to regain her composure.

  Wellington never shifted his dreamy eyes away from Jada’s. She stood in the foyer. Peeped over his shoulder. He lovingly stroked the left side of her face. Wellington’s six-feet four-inch, two hundred and twenty-pound frame obscured her view. Jada’s temperature must have been well over the today’s projected high but for all the wrong reasons.