Authors: Mary B. Morrison
Who’s Loving You
When Somebody Loves You Back
Nothing Has Ever Felt Like This
Somebody’s Gotta Be on Top
He’s Just a Friend
Never Again Once More
Soul Mates Dissipate
Who’s Making Love
Justice Just Us Just Me
Coauthored with Carl Weber
She Ain’t the One
Kensington Publishing Corp.
Dedicated in loving memory of Elester Noel, my mother, who committed suicide after being brutally battered by my father for years. My mother gave birth to eight—some say nine—children and she checked out of this world like many other battered women, not knowing her self-worth.
I thank God for the woman that I am and will become. I’m blessed beyond measure. I’m sexy, confident, intelligent, uninhibited, and most important, I love myself first, knowing that through God I will attain the greatness of all my desires. I’m fortunate to possess a passion to write and the determination to succeed.
Thanks and welcome to my new editor, Selena James. I’m looking forward to a long and prosperous relationship. I appreciate all the hard work and dedication of my entire Kensington family. Karen Thomas, my editor for life, I say unto you, “We are family and thanks for everything.”
I absolutely love my author friend and writing partner, Carl Weber, aka the Prince of Drama. I experienced so much growth as a writer while we coauthored
She Ain’t the One
and I can’t wait to get started on
He Ain’t the One
. While in New York collaborating on
She Ain’t the One
, I had the opportunity to have lunch with Carl’s wonderful wife, Martha, some of his staff at Urban Books, and also dined with a number of Carl’s authors while we were on tour and I have no idea how Carl finds time to write his
New York Times
best sellers. All I can say is, “Carl is a gentleman in the purest form.”
Authors Naleighna Kai, Gloria Mallette, and Marissa Monteilh willingly opened up their hearts when I asked them to share with you very powerful and personal messages in the I Am Worthy section of this book, and I appreciate each of them. I hope their words inspire you to write in your own words why you feel worthy.
My son, Jesse Byrd, Jr., lights up my life. I’m so proud of him. As many of you know, Jesse is on a basketball scholarship and my wonderful godson, Robert “Chew” Owens, also is on a basketball scholarship, so you know I’m smiling from ear to ear.
I’m grateful that my fantastic siblings, Wayne, Andrea, Derrick, Regina Morrison, Margie Rickerson, Debra Noel, and Bryan Turner are so supportive of me, and I love my cousin Edward Allen.
Thanks to each of my fans. I want you to know beginning this new series, The Honey Diaries, wasn’t easy because like you, I too was deeply in love for seven years with Darius and Fancy and Jada and Wellington and all of the characters from the Soul Mates Dissipate series; therefore, my new characters took time to develop.
I must thank my manuscript readers, Mother Bolton, my manager, Eve Lynne Robinson, and my awesome agent, Claudia Menza. Much love to Lou Richie, Bernard Henderson, Jerry Thompson, Michele Lewis, Vera Warren-Williams, Blanche Richardson, Karen Richardson, and Emma Rodgers.
I have the world’s greatest manager and photographer, Eve Lynne Robinson. I thank Eve for enhancing my career, expanding my vision, and taking excellent care of me. Now my graphic Web designer/image brander, Kim Mason, is unequivocally second to none. I cannot thank these women enough.
I know the bad things he does to me are my fault.
He’s really a good man, and maybe if I would’ve shut up and not talked back he wouldn’t have slapped me in my mouth. Maybe if I hadn’t cursed him out or degraded his manhood, he wouldn’t have yelled at me. Maybe if I had changed my dress instead of telling him what I wasn’t going to wear, he would’ve allowed me to go out with my girlfriends. Maybe if I could learn to sex him better, suck his dick a little longer, or stopped telling him “no” more than I said “yes,” he’d stop cheating on me.
What did I do to make him hate me so much when all I’ve done was try to love him? I need some answers. I’m lying in this emergency room: a broken heart this time. Maybe next time I won’t be so lucky. Actually, if God cared about me at all, he’d bring me on home. I’m tired. I’m ready. I’ve been ready for quite some time now. Surely heaven can’t be like this.
Getting my ass kicked on the regular is no way to live. Yep, I’m convinced that heaven has got to be a better place. Hell, hell has got to be a better place than living with him. All I ask is that my mother take care of my kids. I know she’s tired too. Done, done her part and then some, but I ain’t got nobody else to look after my babies.
Why didn’t somebody see him hitting me? Kicking me? Biting me? Spitting on me? Raping me? Using my body for a punching bag? A doormat. My hair for a dishrag. If I hadn’t made enough money to pay all the bills, I’m sure he would’ve bashed my face in again by now. Why was he cursing me? Shouting at me? Calling me bitch! Bitch! Bitch! So much that when anybody else calls me by my name, I don’t even answer. Why is it that I can’t do anything right to please him? No matter how hard I try.
I hope somebody cares because I sure don’t. Not anymore. I’m ashamed to go around my family. I’m too embarrassed to confide in my friends. Outside of work I don’t have a life. Haven’t seen my folks in a minute. Lord, what happened to him to make him this way? Was it his mama? Was it me? He used to be nice to me. He used to say, “I love you.” Actually he still does tell me he loves me, but I know he doesn’t mean it. Does he? He can’t possibly love me and treat me this way. Can he? I’m numb. I’m scared. In a world filled with people, some happy, others just like me, I feel so all alone.
Lord, I love You but if You don’t save me this time, I’m going to have to repent in advance if that’s possible, because I swear, if he hits me one, I swear, just one more time…I’ma kill him dead…or die trying.
The choice is yours, Lord.
I’ve never abandoned you. All I have to say unto you is…the choice to stay or leave is yours. Always has been. Always will be. How can you claim you love Me and at the same time not love yourself? I am you and you, my child, are Me. I’ve already set you free. It’s already been done.
Freedom is a choice.
If you don’t want My blessings, you won’t receive My glory. I’ll simply give your blessings to someone who’s willing and ready to receive. You can’t get My blessings if you continue relying upon him instead of Me. It’s like winning the lottery but not knowing your numbers hit. My blessings unto you are useless if you don’t acknowledge the fact that they are yours.
Knowing is not enough. You must accept My blessings in order to attain a better life. You must embrace a higher level of consciousness. Every time you walk out of your front door, you decide to return, unlock the door, and enter the house. Knowing he’s there, knowing you haven’t put him out, knowing he’s going to continuously abuse you, yet you leave and then return day after day. Again and again you pray to Me, frantically begging that he’ll change. Your prayers have been answered because each time he becomes more and more violent.
Oh yes, he has to answer to Me. But when are you going to see that you, My child, are the one who must change? Your willingness to transition into a greater consciousness will determine your happiness, your goodness, your blessings, your glory…all you have to do is flip on the light switch and stop living in darkness. The electricity is already there. Use it.
Trust in Me. Your ability to connect to Me is there. Focus your attention on yourself, not him. The time has come for you to stop believing that your relationship with him is the only one you are worthy of.
Stop hiding behind your contrived smile. Stop crying yourself to sleep at night. Stop acting like everything is all right. Stop putting him before your children. My child, let not your heart be troubled. When you come out of your conscious coma, awaken to truth, take responsibility for your life, or next time, honestly, there won’t be a next time.
If you keep going back to him, I’ll see you soon…real soon.
Welcome to Book #1 of my new series…
The Honey Diaries
Happiness is an acquired emotion.
Pussy is sweeter than honey and more valuable than money.