"I should flip all this shit over"

The wait for That's Not Church Appropriate is almost over!!! Y'all have been patient and for that, I am forever grateful. The goal is to have it published by month's end...but we all know how that goes. In the meantime, here's a sample of what's to come in the upcoming release.

Synopsis: What happens when the life makes you doubt everything you were taught? What happens when the place that's supposed to be your refuge is the one place you fight so hard to stay away from?

One week changes life for this group of friends. Will they be able to overcome or will the truth be too much to handle?

This sample has not gone through the final edits.

Samantha Zipporah Carson

I wiped my sweaty palms over my hips. I was dressed to the gawds in my form fitting white cape style dress with a pair of white and gold six inch stilettos. My short hair was styled into my usual pixie cut and my face was beat, but I made sure my shades were big enough and dark enough to cover my eyes, hiding my true feelings…pure, unadulterated joy. My anxiety was higher than my heels as I braced myself with each step I took. I looked to my left and saw two of my dearest friends. When they called me last weekend with the news, I dropped the phone while we were on group FaceTime and shouted around my living room like the Holy Ghost had really come down in the room…and rested.

It’s gonna be a special place in hell for me for being happy his ass is dead, I thought to myself as I continued my journey to the front of the church that housed the eternal resting place of the man I prayed many days that God would have taken away sooner than what he had. Better late than never, I thought with an eye roll as I continued to inch my way behind the line of viewers shedding tears, mourning over the loss.

I straightened my shoulders and held my head up high as the steeple as I strutted towards where the white and gold box that held the miscreant that made my childhood end before it should have. Each step I took felt as if my breath was leaving my body. I grabbed my chest and moments later, felt two comforting hands supporting both of my elbows. My girls. My sisters. The ones who knew me best and always supported me, even when they didn’t agree with my decisions in my younger life. The ones who never left my side and never sugar-coated a damn thing.

We walked slowly in silence until we came to the edge of the casket. I could hear the whispers and gasps. Yes, bitch! It’s me! I hadn’t stepped foot inside Holy Redeemer Pentecostal Church of God in Christ since the Sunday before I graduated from high school twelve years ago. I had already made plans to start school out of town during the summer and the semester was starting within the next few weeks. Hell, I would’ve gone to school in fucking Alaska if it meant I was far away from the bastard that seemed to be resting peacefully in front of me.

They put his smug ass away nicely. I should flip all this shit over!

I was only here to see for myself that he was dead. No body, no proof. I had no interest in the cliché verbiage that came with the fakeness of church based “home going celebrations”. I didn’t want to hear about how good of a father he was or how loving of a husband he was. And I especially didn’t want to hear about how he was a faithful servant of the Lord. Quite frankly, in my opinion, he was Lucifer himself. From the somber looks on the faces of his wife and biological offspring’s, they would probably argue Jesus down from Bethlehem to Jerusalem that he was a fucking saint. I rolled my eyes at the thought as I peered down at the body one last time noticing the scar on his face and my lips turned up in happiness, remembering the events that made it a permanent fixture.

Feeling eyes penetrate me, I turned to where his wife and sons were sitting. Each holding a different expression as I stood before them, for the first time in over a decade. The scowl on his wife’s face deepened as she realized who I was…like I was a willing participant and not a survivor of the hell I had to endure at the very forceful hand of her perverted ass husband.

I reached up to remove my shades so they could get a good look at my face. The only thing that changed in the decade that I had been away was my age. My facial features were still the same from childhood, so there were no cases of mistaken identity. I looked his wife dead in her eyes, daring her to speak so I’d have a reason to show my ass for old times’ sake. We just stared at each other for what felt like minutes. In another lifetime, I would have graciously offered my sympathy and condolences. But I wasn’t sorry for her loss. As far as I was concerned, she could’ve died with him. After I got tired of fighting the urge to knock the hell out of her, I replaced my shades over my eyes, straightened out my dress, and headed back outside to my car to release a much needed scream.

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