 by Xavier Neal.jpg)
Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Private Academy Librarian Jaye Jenkins isn't afraid of the green-eyed homeless man she finds digging in her trashcan one cold winter night.
He's starving.
Just trying to survive.
Could use a bit of kindness that she can't help but give.
And when that kindness leads to her saving him from some misplaced hatred, an unorthodox situation begins.
One that will change both of their lives.
Forever.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Playlist Selects
Here are ten songs from the “Compassion” playlist!
Feel free to follow the playlist on Spotify to find more songs I felt related to the book.
1. Religious – Ne-Yo (R&B)
2. Phenomenal – Eminem (Rap/HipHop)
3. Too Much – Spice Girls (Pop)
4. Irish – Goo Goo Dolls (Alternative Rock)
5. Thank God – Kane Brown, Katelyn Brown (Country)
6. You Saved Me – Gary Clark Jr. (Soul/Blues)
7. Eleven: 11 – Pell (Rap/Hiphop)
8. Take Me Home Tonight – Eddie Money (Pop Rock)
9. Dream – Queen Naija ft Lucky Daye (R&B)
10. Low Life – X Ambassadors, Jamie N Commons (Pop Rock)
More songs: https://spoti.fi/3Nssn7b
Chapter 1
Jaye
Moms don’t really always know best, but let’s keep that between me and you, okay? Oh! Oh no! If you’re a mom, I really didn’t mean to offend you. I’m sorry! I am so, so sorry! I probably should’ve been more specific and said my mother doesn’t always know best. Words and sentence structure matter. I know this. I literally get paid to know and teach this to an extent.
“Don’t slouch, Jaye,” my mother, Margaret Jenkins, not-so-gently reminds me at the same time she places a plate of gourmet eggplant parmesan in front of me. “It’s unbecoming, and it’s terrible for your back. Keep that up, and next thing you know, you’ll be going to see Dr. Smiley for a visit.” She twists the plate to a more picture-perfect position prior to flicking her thick, wavy, caramel locks away from her honey, tawny skinned face. “And while smile may be in his name, you can rest assured, going to see an orthopedic physician will leave you with nothing to smile about.”
“I don’t know,” Charles Jenkins, my father, nonchalantly argues while leaning back in his stool seat, dark hickory hands folding together in his lap. “He does have the best candy jar in the game, Mags.” His dark brown stare shoots me a small wink. “Freshest Whoppers in all of Highland. He leaves me with no choice but to confiscate at least a handful on behalf of the good people in this city.”
And this is what makes my dad so damn magical. An entire city full of people to serve and protect yet he always, always starts at home with me.
“Neither you nor Jaye need any more Whoppers in your life,” she scolds as she puts his plate down in front of him.
“Candy or burgers?” Dad playfully pokes.
“Both.” Her snip is given to him on an unhappy glare before she relocates the disapproval my direction. “And speaking of things you should be avoiding, you need to be careful about adding extra cheese to your dish tonight.” The expression of discontent deepens. “Not only could eating too much increase your risk of high cholesterol and high blood pressure therefore increasing your risk of a heart attack – something to always have in the back of your mind even at twenty-nine – but also your pants are beginning to look a little…snug.”
You know it’s bad when your doctor says shit like this to you during a yearly physical, yet when your mom says it, your mom who is also a doctor – a thoracic surgeon to be more exact – the low blow pain is much, much harsher. It’s pretty much a kidney shot. It hurts so bad that you wanna scream bloody murder but can’t. I also wanna tell her that I could’ve bought these pants this way! That maybe they aren’t fitting tighter because I’ve had one too many snowmen shaped cookies from the children at school who gave me some as a holiday treat! Whatever the case may be – fashion or frosting – extra cheese would be just fine on this Gordon Ramsey inspired meal. I’m not going to explode, although if I keep bottling up all my feelings like this I may implode. See. Words matter.
“Now,” Mom begins during her stroll back into the main portion of the kitchen where her plate is waiting to be relocated, “what was I saying before all this?”
That you think your daughter is going to turn into The Hunchback of Notre-Dame if she doesn’t straighten her spine. Oh…maybe that should be a book we read for book club! The adults the version by Victor Hugo – great writer – and the children the Disney adaptation. I’m sure it exists. Disney basically has a book for everything they make animated.
“Something about the Phillipsons,” Dad loudly reminds yet quietly adds, “who are also probably to thank for whatever this shit is.” His confused expression meets mine on a barely above a whisper snap, “What the fuck is this?”
After cutting a quick glance to where my mother is snapping a social media shot of the dish that she created, I answer at the same volume, “Eggplant parmesan.”
His thick eyebrows pull together. “Did the grocery store stop selling pasta?”
“Not that I know of.”