A New Life for Christmas E-Book

In a tragic accident at age fourteen, a budding literary phenomenon, Odell Jackson, was sentenced to life in prison as a teenager. Now, as Tazima fights for his freedom, can his lawyer, also be freed?

A heartwarming, toasty, snowy, stand-alone Christmas romance, can two people defy the odds and carve out A New Life for Christmas?

Trigger warnings: Prison, death, grief, domestic dispute, sex

Ahead of us lie mountains I’ve never seen, as in, I’ve never personally laid eyes on a mountain.

Tall, staggering trees spread into forever. Cloaked in a cobalt night, we dip through curving valleys, across narrow bridges, and over glittering rivers and rushing streams.

This quiet speaks. These parts of nature are alive and not walls. Outside, snow drifts around us, and we drive past waterfalls that rush over rocks beneath us. The oasis is serving up so much peace I almost feel guilty for being outside my iron bars. Around this time, I would be in my bunk imagining how nature sounds when it pulsates.

As sleepy as I am at midnight, I can’t close my tired eyes. I might miss the next sight I’ve waited my whole life to witness.

I’m out of place. I don’t belong in this serenity, or in these towering mountains that seem to forgive me, and ironically enough, curse me. Each marvel of nature I get to behold is a reminder of what Ayanna won’t. One tear after another comes, engulfing me until I give up wiping.

My sister reaches back with takeout napkins that I hesitate to take. I don’t want anybody to see me weak in the dark.

Eugenia was there, too, one of the only people on the planet who understands. Still, only one of us paid the price for our family strife. I know that’s why she’s beating on doors so hard to make it up to me and connecting me with so many opportunities. Genie’s love and remorse mean the world and have kept me going through the years. Her efforts gave me something to believe in when there was nothing else. But there’s no amount of ice water to soothe those first-degree burns on your soul that’s sat in the deepest, loneliest depths of hell.

At around two in the morning, Keenan slows down. “We’ll have to pull over for a few hours. The storm is catching up with us. It’s getting harder to see. We shouldn’t be moving through these hills with these patches of ice freezing up more, bae.”

Genie seems worried. “I don’t feel comfortable just sitting on the side of the road. Let’s check in at one of these inns while it passes.”

Tazima wakes up from sleep as Keenan rolls to the first inn to check for vacancies.

“What’s up?”

“Storm is getting rougher,” I tell her.

She squeezes her head in what might be anxiousness.

“Tazima,” Eugenia starts. “I know you’ve got to get back to work. We’ll do all we can to get you out of here, girl.”
My sister looks genuinely remorseful while peeping at Tazima.

Tazima must have put herself in a bind to be in Illinois. I was shocked she’d even come. Now Counselor seems to collect her strength and put on a smile. “I couldn’t miss this.” But her face is giving heart attack vibes. Still, she sniffs it back with a casual flick of her nose.

I’ll do my damndest to make it up to Counselor. How, I don’t know. I’m a convict. She’s a lawyer. What would she want from me? What can I do for her that her man probably already hasn’t done? Even if I took her to the nicest place to eat—which is kind of complicated since I still don’t know how to use a bank account, or a bank card, or have credit, or have any current funds to put on the card—she’s likely been to a trillion nice spots.
What the hell was I thinking to send my sister to get her?

This is one of those ideas that seemed cool in my head when I was behind bars and didn’t have shit else to do with my time than think. Now that she’s actually next to me, and I’m supposed to engage with her, a n*gga is experiencing imposter syndrome like a mutha.