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Monday, March 1, 2010

Get to Know Markeise Q. Washington

Born November 21, 1984 in South Philadelphia, PA, Markeise Q. Washington has been writing since he was ten years old. In late 2006 his literary journey began when he starting penning his debut novel "Entrepreneur". With his mind set on ownership, 5ive Star Publications was born in May 2007. His goal was to cover all genres of fiction as well as children's literature.

Destined and encouraged to do great things Markeise is constantly reminded of the early and unfortunate passing of his biological mother whom is indeed the catalyst to his success. Proactive, determined, thought provoking and intelligent Markeise Q. Washington will always and forever remind us that Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions.

Entrepreneur 2- It's been three years since Swift took the reins and Block was sent to prison. With their net worth rising and businesses expanding, Swift sees their opportunity to get out the game completely. When Block is released from prison, he co-sign's Swift plan to leave the streets alone. After Block's readjustment period, he and Swift are back together like old times. At every move they make to walk away from the game, someone watches.

There are the cops who want nothing more than to see them rot in a jail cell. There is also someone who is hell bent on killing anybody associated with Block. On top of that Block and Swift are transitioning to new heights in their personal lives. They are both dealing with personal things that they've kept from each other. These things ultimately change their lives forever. Will Block and Swift be able to make the transition or will the once comfortable streets be their downfall?

Chapter 1

Nearly a month had passed since graduation, and my mother was already sweatin’ me. Normally, she was a sweet-looking woman, with her 5-feet-6, one hundred and seventy five pound frame and fudge complexion. She had jet black, shoulder length hair with bright eyes and long eyelashes. However, at that particular time, she looked like the devil, horns and all. Of course, she was on my case about employment. I was submitting applications left and right.
“Swift, get in this kitchen and wash these damn dishes,” my mom shouted loud enough for the entire city of Philly to hear.
“Get him to do it,” I mumbled under my breath. I gave Malik the ice grill as I passed the couch en route to the kitchen. I got in the kitchen and was able to count how many dishes were in the sink. There were two bowls, a plate, and three pieces of silverware. I think she yelled at Malik through me.
Everyday when I came home from community college, Malik was on the couch, hand in his boxers, watching MTV. It amazed me how lazy my brother was. My parents practically spoon fed him and that only made things worse. I could only shake my head in disappointment.
It was like every time I did something that wasn’t up to her grand standards, it was a problem. I could clean the house and if I happened not to mop that particular day, she bought it up. She tried to make it seem like I didn’t complete anything. I couldn’t remember the last time that Malik cleaned something. I would venture to say maybe when we were in 8th grade.
When I first came home, I could admit that I didn’t want to do anything remotely close to constructive. When I realized that I wasn’t making any money playing NBA Live, I started looking for employment anywhere I could. She was never on Malik’s case about getting a job. Go figure, right?
I would be looking for a job and come home and see Malik smoking with the knuckleheads from around the way. They were a group of the smartest young brothers I knew. They just went down the wrong path and got caught up in what they thought was cool. When I went off to school, I desperately wanted Malik to come with me. Maybe if he came to school and saw what they had to offer he would have a different perspective on life. I couldn’t understand for the life of me why he wouldn’t use his GOD given abilities.

I went to my room to finish a term paper. I was the greatest procrastinator on planet earth. I had to type ten more pages, and I had to be in class at 10 a.m. sharp. I started to type the fastest I could with one finger. After awhile, I incorporated a finger on my left hand.
I looked down at the bottom right corner of my laptop and the time read 11:57 p.m. The next thing I remember was waking up to a string of mismatched letters as a result of falling asleep on the keyboard. I spent fifteen minutes deleting the letters. I wasn’t even done typing my paper, and I wasn’t surprised.
I ripped a black sweat suit off the hanger, laid it on my bed, and hopped in the shower. I took the quickest shower time would permit, and jumped into my clothes and boots. I sprayed on some Fahrenheit cologne and tied on my black do-rag. I put my laptop in my bag and ran up the basement steps clear across the living room out the door.
I didn’t stop running until I was at the corner of 46th and Baltimore Ave. I could see the 34 trolley coming, and I was glad because I could barely breathe. I caught my breath soon as the trolley pulled up. I found a seat in the back by the window. I took out my laptop and took a deep breath before I attempted for a second time to finish this paper.

For More Info Visit:

www.5ivestarpublications.com (contains book trailer, purchase link and excerpts to books.)

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