The Kokuran II: In Full Blossom

by Jordin Mack

Overview

In this second installment, the saga of Astrid continues as she embarks on the winding roads of life, filled with more drama including a new love, more deception and betrayal, an untimely death, and a suspicious murder. These events cause Astrid to question everything she believes in, including her faith in the Kokuran.

On a visit home to Detroit, Astrid is faced with an unexpected loss and the revelation of secrets, lies, and alibis that will change the trajectory of her life.

Astrid’s childhood friend, re-enters her life and unleashes a wrath of turmoil and collateral damage, which binds them forever.

Astrid finally starts dating again, only to find herself in another deadly love triangle; but this time, a woman is involved.

And just when Astrid thinks that things can’t get any worse, past demons resurface and threaten to shatter her life unless she destroys them first.

In the midst of her battles, Astrid blossoms and reveals her darker side, showing the world the true nature of her Kokuran strength.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780997154443
Publisher:	Vaughn Publishing
Publication date:	07/01/2018
Pages:	400
Product dimensions:	6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.88(d)

Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

The Restart

I woke up in the morning feeling refreshed and happy as I looked at my wedding ring and then glanced at our wedding picture in the Waterford crystal frame on the nightstand next to our bed. Then I heard the shower running, so I got up, went into the bathroom, and opened the shower door.

"Good morning, my beautiful wife," my husband said. "What took you so long?"

I smiled as I stepped into the shower and hugged him, and then we began French kissing. After we played around a bit, I closed my eyes and turned away from him to wash my hair. I asked him to pass me the shampoo, but he didn't respond. I turned around to look at him, but he wasn't there. I stood there, startled and confused, absorbed by the heavy steam and wondering where my husband was — my sweet, loving Joey.

That's when I'd usually wake up, feeling scared and discombobulated. I sat up in bed and looked around my room, only to realize I had been dreaming once again, and that Joey, my fiancé, died before we could marry.

I've had the same reoccurring dream at least once a week for the past year. Sometimes I could shake it off and go on with my day. But other times it would hurt me to my core, and I'd spend an hour sobbing in despair before I could pull myself together.

On a few rare occasions, I'd wake up feeling like the Kokuran, the black orchid — that rare, distinctive flower with an esoteric symbology characterized as mysterious, beautiful, strong, and powerful. It was Gigi, my mother, who introduced me to the flower and the significance of it. Gigi gave me her synthetic black orchid as a keepsake right after Joey died to remind me of its importance in my life. It was the same flower she brought with her from New Orleans when she eloped to Detroit with my father, Big John. Gigi believed the traits and energy of flowers could be infused into one's life. She told me on numerous occasions that I was like the Kokuran, and I tried to believe that as well.

On those special days when I'm feeling inspired by the Kokuran, I blast my hip-hop music as I'd get dressed, throwing on a tight-fitting dress that displayed my side-view and rear-view curves along with my other voluptuous assets. I'd let my hair down and walk with my shoulders back in my sexy, four-inch stilettos. I'd think to myself as I'm driving, Yeah, that's right, I'm all that. So don't fuck with me today. That's usually a good day for me. However, those days are far and few; in fact, I haven't had one of those 'good' days in a long time, and I'm not sure if I'll ever have one again.

While I had the black orchid placed strategically in my bedroom to ensure I saw it every day, most of the time I forgot it was there. It seemed to blend in with all the other silk plants and household furnishings with no significance at all.

As time went on, my connection to the flower slowly dissipated, taking away everything that it had given me, especially my sense of power. But I wasn't quite ready to give up. Perhaps the little strength I had left would be enough to help me find my way back and recapture my essence.

It had been almost two years since Joey passed, and despite my best efforts, my life had not yet resumed any form of normalcy. On the surface, everything looked fine, but nothing was as it appeared. My body was fierce, my skin was flawless, and my hair was flowing in the wind. Of course, thanks to Gigi's genes, I still had my youthful good looks; I could easily pass for thirty. However, with all my external beauty, I still felt disconnected from my interior. Naturally, I fell back into my old pattern of maintaining façades.

My career and spiritual life were seemingly intact, but my social life was practically nonexistent. Apart from going to work, I spent the first year after Joey's death being a recluse and a year later, not much had changed. I spent most weekends reading self-help books, studying other languages, and indulging in my new signature cocktail, tequila and lime, and my favorite treat, cannabis. I wasn't an addict, but I knew I was smoking far too much weed lately. It was the only thing that calmed me and quieted the thoughts that ran constantly through my head. Besides, it was better than taking all those pharmaceutical meds that Dr. Bina prescribed for me.

Dr. Bina, my former therapist, had reached out to me several times over the past year, trying to convince me to resume my therapy. I saw her a few times, but she wasn't very helpful. It seemed that Dr. Bina only wanted to pump me full of drugs and hear my torrid life story to publish in one of the many journals that featured her work. As far as I was concerned, she needed to find someone else to advance her career. Besides, I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I thought she was a little on the cuckoo side — counseling me about relationships with the men in my life while she had never been married or had a current boyfriend. Huh, she was the one who was crazy, not me.

While my career appeared to be going well, it wasn't the same as before the incident with Joey. I still worked for the same company and had the same fabulous office and salary, but the context of my role had changed. My interaction with my colleagues was different. They were courteous to me, but I was clearly not the big shot that they once envied, admired, and sometimes hated. I felt they no longer respected me; instead, they pitied me, especially Scott, my boss. He treated me like I was a delicate flower that would break under pressure, which was probably why he drastically reduced my workload. During conversations, he often patted my shoulder and said, "It's going to be alright. Time heals everything. Things will be back to normal soon. Let's take things slowly." It was becoming obvious to me that my career at Wyatt, Jones & Steinberg was coming to an end. While my firm would never throw me out, they would find a way to make me want to leave. I knew it was time to move on, but I didn't know what I wanted to do next or where I wanted to go. Regardless of my ambivalence, I would have to decide soon, before the firm decided for me.

As a result of my self-imposed exile, I lost touch with many of the friends and associates that Joey and I shared, mainly because of their choice, not mine. It seemed like Joey's family and our mutual friends hated me. None of them attempted to contact me after the incident, not even during my hospital stay. I wrote letters to Joey's family, but they came back unopened. I wasn't surprised though; my family would have felt the same if the circumstances were reversed. Nonetheless, I still felt a need to explain to Joey's family what really happened, that it was his best friend, Marcus, who pushed him over the edge. I also wanted them to know how much I loved and missed Joey. But that was wishful thinking. That conversation would never occur, because I would be forever known to Joey's family as the woman who caused him to kill himself.

Just after Joey's birthday, I went to visit his burial site, taking along a bouquet of orchids to plant near his headstone. I figured it would be safe, since his birthday was a few days earlier, and no one would be there. However, when I arrived at the cemetery, his mother and siblings were there, so I jumped back into my car and sped away. That was supposed to be my final step to put closure on my relationship with Joey. Mustering the courage to go to Joey's burial site was a tall feat for me. I had attempted to go there several times before but was unable to go through with it.

Later that day, I called Dr. Bina and told her about seeing Joey's family at the cemetery. "You should go back," she said, "perhaps in a few days. You must put closure on your relationship with Joey. Why don't you come by my office tomorrow, so we can talk in person? If you're feeling anxious, I can give you something to help with your stress."

There was Dr. Bina again, trying to drug me and get me back on her patient roster. I lied and told her I would go back to the cemetery next week and then come to her office. Truthfully, I wasn't sure if I could ever attempt to return to Joey's grave. And I definitely wasn't about to start seeing Dr. Bina's crazy ass again. Whatever was going on in my life, no matter how broken it was, I would manage it myself.

The next morning, as I was drinking my coffee, I took a moment to reflect on my life. I realized it had come full circle. In some ways, I felt like I did when my tumultuous eighteen-year marriage to Philip ended. He was my first everything — lover, batterer, and father to Junior, my one and only child. Among other things, my divorce left me feeling uncertain about what the future held for me. And years later, I was back at that same place; a life filled with more ambiguity. Just like before, the interior of my life was out of sync with my exterior. The only thing that was constant was my family and my three best friends: Zoe, Val, and Tara. Thank God I still had my girls for support; they would help me get through yet another life-changing transition.

Zoe and I remained close, but we had not spent much time together. Over the past year, she frequently invited me to galas and various political social events, but I usually declined. After a while, I think she became tired of me saying no, so she stopped extending invites altogether. We still had spa days occasionally, but that was the extent of our socializing. Zoe didn't believe in letting grass grow under her feet — not for me, not for Brad, not for anyone. She continued to be Zoe, dedicated to her career, playing hard, and still fishing, when time permitted.

Val and Tara had both visited me over the past year. They also accompanied me when I went to my condo on the Cape. Despite their love and support, I still put up a front with them, making them believe I was doing much better than I was. Yes, I remained highly skilled at putting on a false face to hide my true feelings, which I did often. But similar to what I had done with Zoe, I kept Val and Tara at bay. I wasn't ready to explain to anyone why I hadn't or couldn't move on with my life. It was easier to lie than allow people to see the real me: weak and powerless.

For a while, I stopped going to church too, since I no longer attended Joey's family's church. However, at Gigi's urging, I reluctantly joined Pastor Jay's church, the pastor who helped me through my grief following Joey's death. While Pastor Jay was a great spiritual teacher, I was concerned about the elitist status of his congregation. Most members were doctors, lawyers, entertainers, local politicians, and so on. I couldn't see that group as my church family at all. Gigi always said that people were people. It was a person's interior that defined them, not their exterior packaging. I had come to know that all too well, especially after my experience with Philip, a true Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I'm still haunted by memories of him today.

Although I didn't attend church regularly, when I did go, I usually attended the sunrise service because fewer people were there. That made it easier for me to avoid the occasional whispers and stares that still plagued me. One Sunday after service, Pastor Jay stopped me as I was leaving and asked if I would be willing to help with one of the fundraising campaigns. I agreed and met with the church secretary to sign the required forms.

After that, I made a quick dash to my car, so I could get back to the comfort and quietness of my home. Of course, the quietness was only temporary because every Sunday, Gigi would call and lecture me about various aspects of my life, particularly my dating life, and then offer her usual unsolicited advice on what I should be doing to get over Joey. One thing that had not changed was my Sunday afternoon movie date with myself. I still looked forward to watching my Lifetime and Netflix movies.

A few days later, I received a call from the chair of the church's fundraising committee. To my surprise, it was Dr. Bolton (a.k.a. "Doc"), my former neurologist. "I was pleasantly surprised when I saw your name on the list of volunteers," he said, "so, I knew I had to call you right away. Why don't we have lunch or dinner and talk in person about your role on the committee?"

"Okay," I said hesitantly, "how about next weekend?"

"Why so long? Can we meet today? You know my schedule is hectic and subject to change on short notice. I'm free this evening. Let's have dinner later. Please?"

"Well, if you insist, then today it is. I'll do anything for a good cause." Who was I kidding? I was bored to death, and I could use a little stimulating adult conversation.

I left work at five and headed to a sushi restaurant downtown to meet Doc for dinner. When I arrived, about fifteen minutes early, he was already there. "I never like to keep a lady waiting," he said as I got seated, "so I'm always at least thirty minutes early for a date."

"Oh," I said, "I didn't realize this was a date; I thought it was a business meeting." We both laughed and then ordered cocktails.

"Wow, you look beautiful," he said. "How are you doing?"

"I have no complaints."

"Well, that's good to hear, because now that I've found you again, I don't want to lose you." He took my hand. "This time, I'm going to stay close by, if you'll allow me. I should have spoken up when I first met you, but I can be shy sometimes."

I was surprised by his comment. I had no idea that he was still interested in me, especially after all this time and the incident with Joey that landed me under his care. We continued to make small talk. We had a lot in common, both having one college-aged child and the unfortunate experience of losing a loved one. His wife of twenty years had passed away from cancer six years earlier, and he had not had a serious relationship with anyone since.

We lost track of time as we talked about everything for hours. We didn't leave the restaurant until our server said we were welcome to stay, but the cleaning staff was about to start.

Doc walked me to my car, firmly holding my hand. "Look, I'm not going to play games with you," he said once I was seated in my car. "I'm much too old for that. I want to see you again and have a real date. Can we do that?"

"Sure, I'd love to go out with you," I replied without hesitation. I'm not sure why I agreed to go out with him. Perhaps I was bored. I wasn't particularly interested in him at that time. I figured we would go out once or twice, but nothing lasting would come of it.

As I drove home, I turned on the radio and heard an advertisement about a fundraising event memorializing the second anniversary of Joey's passing. Needless to say, I quickly forgot about Doc.

With the second anniversary of Joey's death approaching, the media and the sensationalism surrounding it was in full throttle. It seemed that the city would not let Joey rest in peace. They memorialized his death as if he was a renowned political figure. Of course, the media always brought up the circumstances surrounding it, which meant the spotlight would be on me as well. I barely survived the first anniversary of his death. Even though I was at my condo in the Cape, TMZ and the other paparazzi still found me and harassed me. Burke, my public relations rep, said it would probably take at least five years for my name to disappear from the headlines. He also said that eventually Joey's foundation would only want positive images and stories associated with his name and would ward off any negative publicity.

Initially, my plan was to stay in Atlanta and deal with the chaos surrounding Joey's memorial, but that proved more difficult than I anticipated. With the media coverage, I found myself thinking excessively about Joey, which made me feel sad and lugubrious. I also realized I wasn't ready to start dating seriously. That's when I told Doc I wanted to keep our relationship platonic.

"I understand," he replied, "but I'm not giving up on us. I don't want you to disappear again."

"I'm not ready for anything serious," I replied. "I need more time; I'll be in touch soon."

To avoid the drama in Atlanta, I went back home to Detroit to visit Gigi. The timing was ideal since I hadn't seen her in almost six months. I knew that if I didn't pay her a visit soon, she would pay me one, but for a lot longer than I cared for her to stay. Now that Gigi was retired, she had become even more preoccupied with my life, even though she had ten other children and too many grandchildren to count. Apart from serving in her church, working in her garden, and the volunteer work she did at the hospital, her focus was always on me. Like a broken record, she always said, "You can't find a man if you stay in the house all the time. You know, if you stop using it, it might lock up on you." That was Gigi. Sex was always on her brain and part of her lectures.

"And you need to stop smoking that stuff; that's part of your problem. You don't have any ailments that require you to use medicinal marijuana. I'm old, but you're not fooling me, sneaking around smoking that stuff all the time. If you keep smoking it, you're going to turn into a zombie. It's a drug, you know. There are studies out there that show it's addictive too. Do you need me to send you some literature on it?"

(Continues…)

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Excerpted from "The Kokuran II"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Jordin Mack.
Excerpted by permission of Vaughn Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

One The Restart,
Two Sage – Another Spicy,
Five The Letter,
Six Another Intermission with Chevalier,
Seven Loving Two Ain't Easy To Do,
Nine A Seed of New Orleans,
Ten A Spirit Lost & Found,
Eleven The Secret,
Twelve Subjugation,
Thirteen A Splendor Of Hope,
Fourteen The Blackmail –,
Checkmate Fifteen Reconnecting,
with Burke Sixteen Her Final,
Transition Seventeen Unleashed,
Eighteen Revealed,
Twenty Chain Reaction,
Twenty-one The Lakeview,
Twenty-two The Kokuran – In Full Blossom,