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A word from Alretha

It's not my fault, blame my grandfather

Today is my maternal grandfather’s birthday. If he were alive he would be 98-years-old. I thank God I had the privilege of knowing him and even living with him for a short period of time. One of the last things he said to me was “NEVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS!” If you’ve experienced the powerful emotional rollercoaster that is my new novel “Married in the Nick of Nine,” you need to give my grandfather some props! LOL! When I was fourteen my mother died and my siblings and I moved from San Francisco to Compton to live with my grandparents. It wasn’t an easy transition for me. I have to admit, it was one of the worse times of my life. I had just lost my mother and was about to start high school in a strange city, and I was living with my grandfather, a man I had heard a lot about, but who I didn’t really know very well. The thing that stayed at the forefront of my mind was that he and my mother had been estranged right up to the time of her death. I know he loved my mother, and she loved him, but like many father-daughter relationships, theirs had been difficult...
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