Malcolm Braddock:
Activist. Leader. Passion-provoking son of Texasâs legendary, late Congressman Braddock. Malcolm never wanted any part of Daddy Braddockâs political plans for him. But little does the brooding bachelor know that a take-no-prisoners beauty has her own plans to make the number one son her number one mission!
Shondra Braddock:
Gorgeous. Brilliant. Wild and unstoppable. Shondraâs spent her life dealing with a family of men who want to tame her. But when she embarks on a high-stakes, highly improper international affair with her sexy, white boss, she discovers the forbidden pleasure of being with the one man who prefers her untamedâ¦.
Tyson Braddock:
Hot-tempered. Hot-bodied. And hot as hell. Workaholic Tyson put his marriage on hold for years. But he and his estranged wife are in for a seven-pound, eight-ounce surprise! Ty believes he can handle fatherhood, but can he handle the passionate new side of his suddenly not-so-predictable, but oh-so-seductive wife?
The Secret Son:
Not all of Senator Braddockâs secrets died with him. Some are still very much alive, and packing a hard, six-foot-one, muscular frame to die for. But when this exotic secret son finds out his real identity, and ends up playing protector to a fiery virgin in the process, all betsâ¦and clothesâ¦are off!
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Houston. Iâd like to introduce you to the Braddocks, an affluent African-American family who are entrenched in secrets, sex and political intrigue. In this four-book continuity, prepare to be swept away by their powerful love stories, and discover the secret that cost this wonderful family their patriarch. I was honored to be asked to contribute to this series, and I hope you enjoy reading Malcolm and Gloriaâs journey to self-discovery and love.
Then run out and buy book #2, Sex and the Single Braddock by Robyn Amos; book #3, Second Chance, Baby by A.C. Arthur; and book #4, The Object of his Protection by Brenda Jackson.
Enjoy,
Adrianne Byrd
It was the second-worst day of Malcolm Braddockâs life. The first was three days ago when he received the news about his fatherâs fatal car crash. Ever since then, heâd been walking around numb and talking in a daze.
Now, Malcolm tightened his grip around his motherâs shoulders and watched the ever-graceful Evelyn Braddock draw her chin higher and somehow keep her shimmering tears from streaking down her ageless face. A forty-year marriage over without a single warning.
His baby sister, Shondra, was another story. Though to a strangerâs eye she looked calm, cool and collected, anyone who knew Shawnie wouldnât have missed the dull listlessness of her brown eyes or the dark circles that now seemed to ring them permanently, the puffy red nose rubbed raw from endless wiping. She was falling apart.
Malcolm ground his molars together, anger and helplessness finally penetrating his numb armor. Thank God for his brother, Tyson, an unexpected and welcome Rock of Gibraltar who anchored the family and kept it together.
As the eldest son, that should have been Malcolmâs job.
A fine mist of rain descended from Texasâs slate-gray sky while fat thunderclouds gathered menacingly above the large group of mourners surrounding Congressman Harmon Braddockâs grave site. Reverend Vereen made his appeals to the heavens about mercy and forgiveness, but Malcolm had tuned all that out when the black-and-chrome casket began its descent into the freshly turned earth.
Acidic tears burned Malcolmâs eyes while his breath stalled in his lungs. No! Wait! Iâm not ready yet. But time, like it had for the past three days, refused to stop and wait for him to catch up.
His father was dead.
âIn sure and in certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life through our Lord,â the Reverend intoned, âwe commit Brother Harmon Braddock to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dustâ¦â
Malcolm closed his eyes and blocked out the rest of the Burial Rite.
When it was all over, mourners cloistered around the family, once again offering their condolences. Many, if not most, Malcolm recognized as his fatherâs political allies, supporters and even adversaries. Their slick hands and painted-on smiles turned his stomach, but he knew it was all a part of the gameâeven for Houston local media outlets filming a comfortable distance away.
âYour father was a great man.â Senator Ray Caymanâs strong, wiry hand pressed into Malcolmâs. âI know the last two yearsââ
âYes. Thank you, Senator,â Malcolm said in a near growl, and freed his hand from the steel grip. He knew the direction the conversation was headed and he didnât want to go there. Not now. Probably never.