Blood Orange

Description

Cocaine and the problems it brings are coming to rural Florida. It falls to Sheriff Gabe McAllister to find a way to stop the drugs from entering his county.
A brave young woman, Nora Hollister, stands by his side in this fight to stop the Medline Cartel led by Pablo Escobar. Together they try to protect their way of life and of those who work the groves. The DEA sends in their agents to help with a war on drugs and the dangerous Cartel that is moving in.
In 1986 the Florida Orange groves are the drop zones for tons of illegal drugs. Anyone that stands in their way is killed. Nora's neighbor becomes a causality and she is determined to make them pay.

Along the way, flirtation turns to love and the sheriff has more on his mind than catching the drug dealers.

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About the Author

Author Name : Brenda M. Spalding

     Award-winning author Brenda M. Spalding is a prolific writer with several children's books and adult novels to her credit. She is a member of the National League of American Pen Women, Sarasota Authors Connection, Sisters in Crime and a founding member and current president of ABC Books 4 Children & Adults. She also has a micro-publishing company, Heritage Publishing US, where she helps new and aspiring authors to achieve the dream of publishing. She also is a marketing consultant to help authors navigate their way through Social Media.

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My great grandfather was a Slave

My grandfather was a Native

My grandmother was a Bantu

My mother was a kaffir, Nigga, Negro

Names imposed by shackles

But an Afrakan I am

An identity my forefathers were deprived of

 

An identity I am now polluting with the fumes of cigarettes

In dope I am giving it another face

In ecstasy I am giving it a comical image

My drunken stupor gives it an unstable belonging

My borrowed accent contradicts what it represents

My imitated dress code conceals its beauty

My adopted religion undermines my intellectual prowess

My language deafens my ancestors

My values are valueless

My mind is discriminatory

It repels anything indigenous

Whilst absorbing all that is alien

None can identify with me

Even those I am emulating

Patriotism I reserve for my kind

I look down at my patriots

If I were xenophobic

I could have been my own victim

I pride myself in my slanted inferior education

An education promptly deleting my true history

Ignorance is my custom

I am dreaming dreams my forefathers cannot interpret

I am singing praise songs for my dying culture

I am branding a heritage

I cannot inherit

Knowledge of freedom is embedded in my subconscious

But suppressed by fear

Fear to develop my culture and identity

Fear to be rejected by the world

Fear to be different and still love myself

Yet with no identity I remain

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