See Hi-Res Jpeg image

Xpress Yourself Publishing,  July 6, 2010
ISBN-13: 978-0-9845273-0-4
5½ x 8½ inches
Trade Paperback
$14.95

Purchase Secrets on Lake Drive:
Barnes & Noble
Borders Books
Amazon
 

Also available in major bookstores everywhere.

Xpress Yourself Publishing, LLC, and its entities, does not sale or rent email addresses. We respect your privacy!

SERVICES
About XYP

Academic

Booksellers

Catalogs

Library

XYP Speakers

XYP AUTHORS

Allyson M. Deese

Baba Evans Moore

Bill Holmes

Chris Berman

Delorse A. Brown

Hazel Mills

Jessica Tilles

Kenda Bell

LaVerne Y. Adekunle

Linda R. Herman

Makenzi

Mia A. Moore

Michael J. Burt

Nathasha Brooks-Harris

Patricia A. Bridewell

Rekaya Gibson

Robin R Robinson

S.B. Redd

Sean XLG Mitchell

Stacey Covington-Lee

Tina Martin

Tinisha Nicole Johnson

Victoria Wells

Violette L. Reid

TINA MARTIN was born in Ahoskie, North Carolina. She took an interest in writing in high school.  After graduating she wrote her first poem A Love So Extraordinary, and from that point forward, she used writing as an outlet to express all the drama going on in her life during that time. 

It wasn’t until enrolling in college that she decided to explore fiction writing.  In a Creative Writing course, she gained more knowledge on how to be creative and expressive through words. She cruised through the course with a perfect grade and from that point forward, she knew she had found her calling.

Tina has always been very talented and comes from a rich background of learning – Creative Writing, Arts, Acting, Desktop Publishing and Web Design.  Graduating from college with a degree in Computer Technology and a certification in Accounting, her professors urged her to keep going to school to pursue even more technical knowledge, but Tina had other plans.

In 2007, Tina self-published her collection of poetry called Love Like Yours.  Friends and family praise her for deep thoughts and expressions in her work which motivates her to continue doing what she loves.

Tina resides with her husband and son in Charlotte, North Carolina where she finished her novel, Secrets On Lake Drive, due for publication in 2010.

You can read more about Tina Martin at www.tinamartinbooks.com

Swag

April 2004

Milwaukee, Wisconsin 

“Girrrl, look who just walked up in here,” Keisha ran over and whispered in my ear after her eyes caught sight of Sean Beauvais. Never mind the fact I was busy talking to one of my student’s parents. I mean, after all, it was parent-teacher conference night for Milwaukee Public Schools. Sheesh!  I guess that’s what I get for having a best friend as a coworker.

Obeying her order, I looked up at him, but I wasn’t as excited as she was. Don’t get me wrong, the brother was flyy; dressed a little too over-the-top for a parent-teacher conference, but still, he was flyy. Had Keisha not told me that he had just graced my classroom with his presence, I would’ve seen him eventually. He had swagger, and his presence didn’t go unnoticed wherever he was. When he entered a room, people gave him stares like he had his own star on the Walk of Fame, and by his proud attitude, he seemed to enjoy all of the attention.

He stepped in rocking a navy blue Sean Jean pinstriped suit with a crisp white shirt, complete with circular crystal cufflinks, a frost pink necktie, and some transparent, smoke-lens shades with white frames, probably made by Gucci or Versace. Usually I don’t call men pretty, but this man was the exception. Sean put the F, I, N and three E’s in fine.

“Mo-ni-caaa.” Keisha nudged me again, slowly enunciating my name as if I didn’t hear her the first time she called me.

I heard her, but I was busy trying to concentrate. I didn’t like distractions when dealing one-on-one with my kids’ parents. I wouldn’t care if P. Diddy stepped in the room. I took my job very seriously and Keisha knew that.

“Monica,” Keisha whispered again, this time quickly.

I looked up at her, rocking a frown in my forehead. We’ve been friends long enough for her to know what I’m saying by the look I give her. And by the look that I gave her, she knew she was bugging me, but she didn’t care. She was steering her head in the direction she wanted me to look: Sean’s direction. By her movements, it looked like the girl had snapped her neck or something…like she was working out some kinks or doing some sort of jacked-up techno dance.

I glanced up at him again as he got a little closer. Truth be told, the brother was all that and then some. The closer he got, the more his good looks became prevalent. Sean was a light-skinned black man with green eyes. I was told his mother was white and his father was Haitian. From what I could see, he stood a few inches over six feet tall with a muscular build that would make Boris Kodjoe jealous. He must have been one of those guys that couldn’t survive without going to the gym at least once a day. I would guess that he was also the type of dude to get manicures and pedicures every two weeks and use those expensive body scrubs to keep his skin radiant. Speaking of his skin, it was smooth – no blemishes or razor bumps. His hair was dark black and curly like he had some sort of a texturizer or an S curl, but it was probably his genetics that resulted in him having a good healthy head of hair. With all that good hair, I’m sure he made it a point to see the barber weekly, probably at times when he didn’t even need a haircut.

I think to call him a metrosexual would be a little drastic, but that’s the title society usually pins on men who obsess about their appearance more so than women. But in today’s world what woman wouldn’t want a man who loved to look good? Personally speaking, I sure wouldn’t want to deal with some scruffy looking man who hasn’t had his toenails clipped in ten years.

Anyway, I could clearly see he was all man. He had a strong presence in my classroom, speaking to people whom he didn’t know while walking with confidence through the crowd of curious parents with one hand in his pocket. Yep, he was definitely the pretty boy type.

I heard he was also a cocky son of a gun who didn’t bite his tongue for anyone. If he had something to tell you, he would tell you point-blank. If you didn’t like it, that was your problem. There was no beating around the bush to try and find out his disposition on matters.

 I HAD ALREADY dismissed the Caucasian couple I was chatting with. Might as well had since Keisha wasn’t about to leave me alone. I should’ve slapped some sense into her, but I couldn’t do that, being a kindergarten teacher and all. What kind of example will I be to my students? I hadn’t been teaching long, only for about ten months or so, and being only twenty-four years of age, the older teachers would sometimes look at me and turn up their noses like I was too young to be a teacher. I mean, is there a rule that teachers have to be old as dirt? I didn’t think so.

“Girrrl, he’s coming over here!” Keisha patted my shoulder in a few rapid motions with the backside of her hand, while panting at the same time.

She just couldn’t let it go. It wasn’t that she was astounded by Mr. Beauvais’ good looks. Unlike me, she had a man. Keisha was the proud girlfriend of a tall, sexy, mocha brother. I was actually jealous the first time she introduced me to him. He looked like a much younger Brian McKnight, same build and everything. She just so happened to meet him down on the east side where all the college students hang out nonstop until the early morning hours. I always thought it was funny how the one night I didn’t go out with her, she winds up with Mr. Perfect, and I’m still single. I haven’t had a man since Cornelius, but whatever. Keisha and Daryl were good together; she loved him and he loved her. That’s how I know she wasn’t tapping me because she was digging on Sean.

Keisha was excited and shocked to see Sean in my class for one reason and one reason only: Sean Beauvais never showed up for any of his son’s school activities. He didn’t even bother to show up for our kindergarten rendition of ‘Goldilocks and The Three Bears’ back in January. No one was there to watch Roman while he played the teeny tiny bear, and when the play was over, Roman sat in my car for thirty minutes waiting for his father’s chauffer to pick him up.

Getting back to Keisha, I had to say something to the crazy woman. She was putting a hurting on my shoulder.

“Keisha, if you pat my shoulder one…more…freakin’ time...,” I said as discreetly as I could, ready to backslap her.

“Girl, whatever,” she replied, completely ignoring my prelude to a threat. “Looks like Roman is pulling Sean over here. I’m out.” After all that nagging to get my attention, Keisha ran like a coward and dipped in her classroom, which just so happened to be next to mine.

I watched Roman steer his father the rest of the way to my desk. Roman was my best student, and though it was rumored that Mr. Beauvais and his now ex-wife had adopted him, I swear the boy looks just like his father. When Sean finally gets over here, I’ll really get to see if there are similarities between the two. One thing was for sure. They both had those same green eyes.

Meet and Greet

Contrary to popular belief, all teachers have their favorite student, and Roman was mine. I’ll admit that I showed him special treatment mostly because I felt like he wasn’t getting any attention at home. His dad was a big-shot realtor and who knew where the boy’s momma was. I heard she ran off to Europe with some slick-haired white man. In addition to being without a mother, Roman had no siblings.      

After what seemed to be an eternity, Roman was finally was able to get his father near me. I stood up to great them.

            “Hey, Ms. Smith,” Roman said excitingly, all dimples and red cheeks, looking at me like he didn’t just see me a few hours ago when class was in session. “This is my daddy.”

            Through his shades, I looked Sean square in the eyes, flashed a quick smile, and stretched out my hand to him. I was curious to see if the pretty boy had a nice, firm handshake. They say you can learn a lot about a person by their handshake.

“Monica Smith. Nice to meet you finally.”

“Sean Beauvais. Nice to meet you, too,” he said in a masculine voice with a twinge of an accent. I didn’t expect his voice to be that deep and the accent caught me off guard. I was quite impressed. Hmm…I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, I thought to myself. I was also glad to hear the correct pronunciation of his last name: Bo-vay.

He held on to my hand a little longer than a normal handshake, and when he did, I had ample time to feel how soft his hands were. The last time I felt anything that soft, I was standing by the Kiss FM booth at State Fair Park with my hand buried in a bag of pink and blue cotton candy, trying my hardest not to get ran over by unsupervised minors and hormone-raged teenagers. I wiggled my hand free, almost embarrassed because his hands were in better shape than mine and I’m a woman. Though his hands were softer than Charmin, he nailed the handshake, which meant he was an extravert and not some shy pushover.

There was a familiarity about him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on where I met him before, but there was something about his eyes and the way he looked at me that made me wonder if we ever crossed paths before. We couldn’t have, though. There was no way I could ever forget a man who looked that good.  Daaang you fine was my first thought when I saw him and I smiled to myself just thinking about the notion of actually telling the man that.