For his final new series, New York Times mega-bestselling author E. Lynn Harris introduces Bentley Dean, owner of the hottest modeling agency in Miami's sexy South Beach.
Only the world's most beautiful models make the roster of Picture Perfect Modeling agency and they only do shoots for the most elite photographers and magazines. They are fashionista royaltyand the owners, Bentley L. Dean and his beautiful partner Alexandra, know it. But even Picture Perfect isn't immune from hard times, so when Sterling Sneed, a rich, celebrity party planner promises to pay a ludicrously high fee for some models, Bentley finds he can't refuse. Even though the job is not exactly a photo shoot, Bentley agrees to supply fifteen gorgeous models as eye candy for an "A" list partyto look good, be charming and, well, entertain the guests. They don't have to do anything they don't want to, but...
His models are pros and he figures they can handle the pressure, until one drops out and Bentley asks his protégé Jah, a beautiful kid who Bentley treats as if he were his own son, to substitute. Suddenly, the stakes are much higher, particularly when Jah falls in love with the hottest African American movie star in America. Seth Sinclair is very handsome, very famous, and very marriedand his closeted gay life makes him very dangerous as well. Can Bentley's fatherly guidance save Jah from making a fatal mistake?
|Publisher:||St. Martin's Press|
|Product dimensions:||5.36(w) x 8.30(h) x 0.82(d)|
About the Author
E. Lynn Harris (1955-2009) was the author of eleven novels and the memoir What Becomes of the Brokenhearted. Ten of his novelsincluding Mama Dearest, Basketball Jones, and Just Too Good to be Truehit the New York Times bestseller list. Harris was known for writing about men who were black, gay and closeted, introducing many readers to little-talked-about subjects. Unable to sell his first novel, Invisible Life, he self-published and sold copies out of the trunk of his car. He was born in Flint, Michigan, and grew up in Little Rock, Arkansas. He attended the University of Arkansas, where he was the first male cheerleader, and remained a dedicated Arkansas Razorbacks fan throughout his life. He divided his time between Atlanta, Georgia, and Fayetteville, Arkansas, before his death in 2009.
Date of Birth:June 20, 1955
Date of Death:July 23, 2009
Place of Birth:Flint, Michigan
Place of Death:Los Angeles, California
Education:B.A. in journalism, University of Arkansas at Fayetteville, 1977
Read an Excerpt
If I had kept a journal of my love life five years ago it would have read something like this:
Under the soothing pattern of rain I'm in the middle of a crazy, convoluted daydream. Maybe because I could hear the strains of Aretha Franklin crooning "day dreamin' and thinkin' of you" or maybe because I had a big decision to make about my love life.
You see I'm in love with two people.
She. Her kisses are soothing. Sometimes I sank my mouth into the naked warmth of her, a body that was firm and soft at the same time. So warm and velvety that I think heaven couldn't be better.
He. Six feet two of steely muscles, two hundred and ten pounds, with gravy biscuit brown skin who dishes out a dizzying force of manhood, sending pleasure chills throughout my body. Sometimes I crave him more than my next breath.
She. An undeniably sexy woman who has been preparing her entire life to become the perfect wife and mother.
He. Has a sexual swagger who delivers pulse-pounding sex that makes me feel like my ass is on fire.
She loves colorful lingerie, blush-colored wines, and her family and friends.
He loves black sweats, sneakers, and my scent.
She loves me. I love her.
He loves me. I love him.
Love can sometimes be like running from a storm, when all I really need to do is learn how to dance in the rain.
It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Just be honest, Bentley, my inner voice said.
So I told the truth for once in my life — in the place where I'd been perpetrating one of the biggest lies. In bed with my fiancée, Kim. I had just made love to her, and she was curled up around my bare body, purring like a kitten. With her damp cheek pressed to my chest, she cast big brown eyes at me with an expression that would make any man melt and want to stay in bed with her all day. There have been many days when I've done just that and enjoyed every minute of it. Kim, when she's not worrying about her social station in life, is really a fun lady to be around.
But my brain was trying to storm up a scheme to get her out of my high-rise condo as soon as possible. So I could enjoy something and someone even bigger and better.
I glanced at the huge rectangular mirror that sat on the floor, angled longways against the wall. It reflected a picture-perfect couple in a nest of white sheets on my brown leather sleigh bed. With my roasted cashew complexion and black hair, parted on the side and brushed close to my head in tiny waves, I was long and lean.
Kim's black Beyoncé hairstyle fanned over my chest; her skin color blended with mine, as did her slim arms and legs. I could smell the too sweet fragrance coming off her skin. The wall of windows overlooking the bright blue Detroit River and downtown skyline let in sunshine so bright that her four-carat diamond ring glowed as if someone had placed a star on her left hand. Kim was gorgeous, professional, and just bourgeoisie enough to please my parents.
Pleasing me, on the other hand, was the problem. The bottom line was she just didn't have what it took to make me happy or keep me satisfied for a lifetime. I didn't want to be one of those handsome newlywed couples in Jet magazine and have former lovers unable to contain their laughter while muttering, "Child, pleeze."
So when she asked a seemingly simple question, the kind that would normally elicit an automatic answer from a man in the afterglow of making love, it had the opposite effect on me. In fact, her question hit me like a truth serum about who I really am. Sadly for her, "husband" is not the answer.
"Will we always be this happy, Bentley L. Dean?" Kim asked with her soft, after-sex voice. As she gazed at me, the black makeup smudged around her eyes intensified her pouty, sexy gaze that demanded an answer. Now.
"Probably not," I replied quickly. The Musiq Soulchild CD had long since ended, so my voice echoed off the cream-colored walls and floor-to-ceiling windows. My words, sounding flat and listless, seemed to hang in the silence. Because I had no more energy to waste on trying to please everyone. It was time to please Bentley L. Dean III. And I refused to live like so many men I'd seen who were married and getting their gay groove on by creepin' on the down low. Damn, I was sick of those two words. My father told us to always be proud of who we are no matter what people think. Maybe he said that because he was convinced that our family were descendants of the talented tenth if ever there were.
No, this is me. And the world needs to accept me as I am. I can't live a lie.
But Kim wasn't ready to hear that. I once heard my father say that sometimes the truth becomes the lie everyone agrees upon.
She raised her head as quickly as if the fire alarm were going off, as if she were trying to determine if yes, the alarm was ringing. And yes, it was time to leave immediately.
My cheek felt cool in the spot where her cheek had been.
"What?" The word shot from her full, heart-shaped lips like a bullet. Her gaze probed my face for signs of a joke. I felt a mixture of heartache and relief. Kim didn't deserve someone like me.
But I stared back, dead serious. And just plain tired of the charade. You see, at the time, I was thinking that I had a few hours to get Kim out of here before Warren, my boo, landed at Detroit Metro Airport and drove the thirty or forty minutes to my twenty-eighth-floor luxury love nest. As soon as she was gone, I would change the sheets, shower, shave, soften my skin with shea butter, and put on the black warm-up pants and tank top that showed off my toned shoulders and chest, my tapered waist, and my muscular ass.
Then I'd be ready for Warren to replace Kim here in my bed. That's when my craving would be quenched. I could hear the message he'd left on my cell phone earlier in the day when in a lazy voice he said, "I'm going to tear that ass down, boi."
That was the truth. And right now, I had just come to the point where I was tired of lying and trying to scheme up new ways to hide my secret from Kim.
"Bentley L. Dean, what in the world did you just say?"
Her eyes grew huge with shock. She looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. Actually, I felt like I'd found it. She and the rest of the world — including my father — would just have to deal with it. Still, I knew dealing with Kim was like petting a kitten where my father would be akin to a tangle with a pit bull. Somebody would come out bloodied.
"Bentley, you're kidding me, right?"
"Kim, I wish I was." My words came out like a sigh of exhaustion. I liked Kim, at times even loved her. But the truth was that I was getting married to please Mother and Father. They are "old black money" rich. As third-generation wealth, they reign from the top tier of Detroit's black bourgeoisie of doctors, lawyers, politicians, and business moguls.
Needless to say, my parents believe very much in tradition. So I was expected to attend Morehouse College and Michigan Law, marry, and have two kids. So the life of Bentley L. Dean III would be a mirror image of the life of Bentley L. Dean II.
That flattery by imitation was my ticket to a seven-figure inheritance. You see, I was born into the black aristocracy. My grandfather, the first Bentley L. Dean, had made his fortune by becoming the first black man to own multiple car dealerships in the state of Michigan. Father expanded the automobile trade, acquired a lucrative soft drink franchise, and purchased several rent houses. The sports lover in him expanded his empire to own an Arena Football League team in Flint. A team I might one day hope to own. Of course, when it was time to marry, he chose a debutante diva with similar status, as my mother's grandfather was one of the first black surgeons in Michigan.
Inheriting the wealth and privilege of their pedigree meant that my sister, Anna, and I would have to become clones of Mother and Father. They expected great things from us, and we both knew better than to disappoint.
So to fulfill my parents' expectations, I chose Kim Boston. She was practically a younger version of Mother, both in looks and in manner. She seemed like a perfect choice. She was beautiful. Educated at Sarah Lawrence and the Wharton School of Business, Kim was working for the governor of Michigan as a policy advisor on new industries.
She could plan a party that would make Martha Stewart take note and had some tricks in bed that made me think I could just stick to women.
But then I met Warren Stubbs and all that changed.
My mouth actually watered the first time I saw him on television. I was sitting in Father's walnut-paneled library, watching the Detroit Lions beat the Dallas Cowboys, when a sports reporter for the local ABC affiliate appeared, larger-than-life, on Father's huge screen.
It was love at first sight. My body and heart reacted immediately, but I had to play it cool in front of Father, who was always quick to condemn a "sissy" or any man who was even rumored to be gay. At that moment, I remembered how one of my childhood friends had exposed Father's hatred for anyone gay. Charlie, who lived across the street from our ten-thousand-square-foot Tudor mansion in Palmer Woods, came out during our senior year at the prestigious Detroit Country Day School.
"You will never be seen with him again," Father had boomed over the dinner table that night. In his business suit and tie, Father was clean-shaven with a Billy Dee Williams mustache. But his usually flawless almond-hued complexion appeared darker. And one of his salt-and-pepper waves, usually combed back in a regal frame around his face, fell to his damp temple. I had never seen such anger flash in his eyes as he said, "We've known him since birth, but Charlie is no longer welcome in our home. And you will never, ever, even think about the disgusting and immoral lifestyle that he has chosen. Not in my house."
So rather than allow Father to see my lust for Warren on the television that day, I took a macho bite of my cheeseburger and chugged a beer.
"Damn, the Cowboys are gettin' an old-school, Motor City beat-down today," I said while secretly devouring Warren with my eyes. He was a dark chocolate god with hazel eyes that wouldn't let me look away and a sexy-as-hell bald head. Warren's deep voice boomed through my chest as he commented about the game in relation to his history as a former quarterback for Purdue University.
From then on, I always watched his reports, and too many times I fantasized about being with him instead of Kim. So imagine my surprise when I went to Chicago with Kim to look at wedding stuff. There in the hotel gym was Warren, in the flesh, even more gorgeous than on television.
With one electrifying glance at Warren Stubbs, and the way his eyes discreetly burned back at me, the life of Bentley L. Dean III as I knew it was over.
I guess you could say I've always been bisexual. I lost my virginity to a pretty blond cheerleader one week during my sophomore year and lost it again to a football player the next. Something about females excited me and something about dudes left me wanting more. I naturally assumed I was smart enough to make it work.
But now, as Kim asked me why we wouldn't always be happy, the truth serum made me say in a calm and emotionless tone, "I'll always cheat on you. And one day, I'll meet a man that I will leave you for."
She sat up, glaring down at me. She pulled the Egyptian cotton sheet to cover her small but plump breasts.
"Does this mean you're one of those down low brothers?" she demanded.
There were those two words again.
"No, Kim. I'm trying to be an up-and-up brother."
"This can't be happening," she muttered.
"Kim, you should be glad you're finding out now, instead of after we've been married for ten years and we've got three kids, a mortgage, and a dog," I said flatly. "Plus, I'm saving you and your parents thousands of dollars. They can keep the small fortune they were about to blow on the wedding —"
"You are not calling off the wedding," she snapped. "Don't even think about humiliating me like that!"
"Someday you'll thank me," I said, glancing at the red digital numbers on the clock. It sat on my sleek brown dresser near the expansive view of the river and the blue silver Caesars Casino amid the buildings and lush green treetops of Windsor, Canada.
This conversation felt like a sure bet for me. I had to make her see it was a win-win for both of us.
"If you don't marry me," Kim threatened, "I'll make you the laughing-stock of Detroit. Yeah, I'll take all the money I saved for the wedding and buy a billboard. You know that giant one downtown on Jefferson, as you come off the freeway? Everyone will see it!"
"Go ahead." I shrugged. She would never do that. My family was richer, more powerful, and more prominent than hers by a long stretch. Father was in the Boulé, the oldest black fraternity that was so upper echelon and exclusive that only five thousand people belonged nationwide. Kim's father, a judge and a Kappa, was powerful, but he was no Boulé. My mother was a founding member and now president of her Links chapter. Father sat on multiple prestigious boards; Mother chaired the Bal Africain, Detroit's most important black social event of the year. Her parents didn't come close. And Kim knew better than to make my parents mad. They could cause major problems for her career with the governor, as well as her family's social standing.
"Yeah," Kim said, "I bet your fraternity brothers and your father's business partners would get a real kick out of that. I'll take one of your modeling pictures, the one where you wore a pink sweater for Polo. On the bottom, I'll put Bentley L. Dean III is gay!"
As she glared down at me, her eyes widened as if a giant spider had just crawled across my face. "Gay! Have you been putting me at risk for HIV?"
"Absolutely not! I'm tested regularly and have the paperwork to prove it." I was wondering why the black community wanted to blame every HIV diagnosis on black gay and bisexual men.
She snatched up a pillow, then whacked me in the chest.
"I trusted you!" she shrieked. "You'd rather have a man than this?"
"Kim, calm down." I grabbed the pillow. Her hair stood in crazy clumps around her head. She panted, squinting at me.
"You won't get a billboard and you know it," I said, not caring how mad she was. I couldn't go on like this, no matter what the cost. "Be glad I'm telling you now."
"Bentley, we can get you some help. Let's go and talk to our minister."
"So he can pray the gay away, Kim? What are you going to do about my appetite for swinging dicks and muscular, plump asses?"
Her face twisted with disgust. "Stop talking like that. You love pussy! I know you do, Bentley."
I sat up, covering my lower half with the sheet. "I love yours, Kim. And most of the time, I loved you. But what I feel the majority of the time is not fair to you."
"Did you ever love me, Bentley?"
"Yes, I love you, Kim," I said, but this wasn't enough before Kim had another plea.
"Then marry me, Bentley. Marry me and we'll work through this together. Do you know what my girlfriends thought when I announced I was going to marry Bentley L. Dean? You changed my life. I want the life you promised me."
I shook my head, glancing at the clock. We needed to wrap this up so I could get her out of here and shower for Warren. "Those were promises I can't keep, Kim. One day you'll look back and realize this was the best thing in the world for you. We can still be close. We can still be friends."
"Friends? I don't need friends, Bentley. I need you to be a man."
"I'm a man, Kim. I'm just not the man for you."
Excerpted from "In My Father's House"
Copyright © 2010 E. Lynn Harris.
Excerpted by permission of St. Martin's Press.
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.
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
In My Father's House by E. Lynn Harris In My Father's House is an interesting book which brings previous invisible relationships between father and son and forces the reader to rethink his/her conceptions about father and son relationships. Drawing upon his relationship with his dad and his relationship with his mentee; Bentley L. Dean III finds his place in the world and tries to make one for his mentee Jah. After making the decision to come out and no longer live the life his father wanted for him; Bentley decides to call off his wedding to Kim Boston, start his modeling agency and drive off into the sunset with Warren Stubbs. Unfortunate for Bentley; Warren has other schemes hatching under his hat. Putting his love life on hold for a second Bentley's modeling agency is financially cripple. It would take something short of a miracle to make this week's payroll. Picture Perfect modeling agency meets Sterling Sneed, an angel in disguise or Bentley's miracle? Mr. Sneed's boss is looking for a particular type of man who knows how to act like an adult and keep his mouth shut. Specifically fifteen of Bentley's best looking models, gay, bi or very open-minded to attend a party hosted by Prosperity Gentlemen's Club. A club with a membership fee of one million dollars and its membership list consist of celebrities, athletes, and politicians. Bentley's mentee Jah is a young college student and hungry for love. When one of the models can't make the gig with Prosperity Gentlemen's Club Bentley ask Jah to fill in even though he prefers to show Jah the life in small doses. Before Bentley can digest it all Jah is in love, ready to leave school and move out of the state. But what happens in the name of love to Jah is enough to make him run back to school. I enjoyed reading In My Father's House and getting to know this new host of characters. It was a fun story about fathers, men and sons. This book shared the same lesson I interpret from John 14:2 that if you trust and believe; your father will prepare a place for you. Missy 3 book marks
Being that this was to be the last novel written by E. Lynn Harris, I like I see many others were expecting way more than we possibly should have. I say this in meaning I don't think he was able to really and fully polish this to standards a majority of his work is accustomed to. For example, there are subtle and major parts of the story that seem to not really explain much and leave you wondering. Jah's escape from the clutches of Seth seemed to just happen without much "force" from Bentley. We are treated to the phone conversation between Bentley and Sterling and then Jah is released with a standard, "If you say anything..." warning. Overall I loved the book once it got going and like one of my fellow reviewers it became a real page turner when the tempo picked up. Personally for me I can relate to the theme of fathers and sons after losing my own at a young age. And so this story was a great read of acceptance and love. I truly wish we had not lost such a poignant voice from the community of humanity. But we are still left with a lifetime of works that has spoken, stirred and healed a great many of our own pains. Thank you again Mr. Harris.
I actually have this mindset that reading E Lynn Harris's work will be like reading his other work again. Same theme. Closets, closets, closets and nasty divas. However, I still enjoy reading his novels because he knew how to entertain the readers. I enjoy his light writing. Well, there is no nasty diva in this novel, and I was surprised I liked this novel more than his other better acclaimed work. For one, I did not feel like Bentley was a self-pity guy. He made decision that affected the relationship with his father. He took a stand. It was interesting to read the hardship he faced.Some of the characters sounded so yummy. I liked Daniel, and would have loved to see another action between Daniel and Bentley. I thought Ramon's character was wasted because nothing more was shared on him. I did not like how Seth was formed. A famous director/actor in the same league as Tom Cruise, Tom Hanks and Will Smith? These three are not directors and I cannot accept the idea of an actor who is also a director, bigger than these three. I was curious what they would do to Jah, but obviously that was avoided. Funny. It sounded horrific but no details. And I wish that none was going around in a circle, but it did - how Seth was linked to almost anything bad that Bentley was facing.I did like the touch on the relationship between Bentley and his father.Will miss his work. How many yummy guys can fit into one book? Apparently, and luckily, in E Lynn Harris's book, limitless.
After coming out to his wealthy Detroit family, Bentley L. Dean III moved to Miami and opened Picture Perfect -- one of the hottest African-American modeling agencies in South Beach. Times are tough, though -- both economically and on the romantic front. With companies slowing down, not many are in need of models; Bentley could ask his Father or Mother for a little financial help, but he worries that they aren't ready to forgive him for coming out. Things could be turning around, though, when he reluctantly agrees to allow some of his male models to be eye candy at an exclusive men-only party on Star Island.As for a relationship, he called off his wedding to be with Warren, the man he loved, only to be dumped in turn after moving to Miami. At the party on Star Island, Bentley runs into Warren and hopes to re-ignite what they once had. But when one of Bentley's younger models named Jah falls head over heels for the host of the party, a movie mogul on the "down low" named Seth Sinclair, and he learns of some rough dealings that involved Sinclair's former boi, Bentley fears for Jah's safety and begins to question what exactly Warren's role in this whole scheme is.E. Lynn Harris' "In My Father's House" took me into a different side of the gay world, that of the closeted, or "down low", black men. On the public side, they have families, well-paying jobs, the respect of the community; on the private side, they attend exclusive parties, hoping for a little action with a hot man or boi. At all times, they're on guard, doing whatever it takes to keep their secret lives a secret, damn the consequences. Throw in Bentley L. Dean III into the mix, handsome and confident with his own sexuality, and the tensions simmer and boil over until someone makes a wrong move.Bentley's inner struggles with regards to his family -- and more specifically, his father -- weave nicely into the tale. He came out to them in order to be true to himself and to his family, but now, isn't sure of his place. Do they still love me? Will they help me if I reach out to them? So many gay men and women deal with those questions, I found it comforting to follow a character dealing with those issues on a realistic level and not like a melodrama."In My Father's House" is definitely a beach read, something to sit with for a few hours, get caught up in the story and just have as much fun as you can. The intertwining stories -- finding work for the modeling agency; testing the waters of love after a bad breakup; the secret parties of high-powered closeted gay black men; Bentley's struggle with his relationship with his father -- made for a book that I couldn't put down once I started.
Even in his absence, the late E. Lynn Harris keeps us on our toes with his latest novel In My Father's House released June 22nd. In the first installment of this highly anticipated three part series, Harris introduces us to Bentley Dean. Bentley is educated, handsome, and born into an aristocratic family. However, all goes flying into limbo when Bentley decides to be true to himself and discontinue his days of living in denial. In exchange for his honesty, Bentley is disowned by his father and loses his share of the seven-figure inheritance intended for him and his sister, Anna. Bruised but not broken, Bentley packs up and soon finds himself in Miami building his own empire, Picture Perfect Modeling agency along with his business partner, Alexandra. Life is going good for Bentley until the economy takes it toll on the modeling industry and Bentley resorts to robbing Peter to pay Paul. Will Bentley break and decide that living a lie with an inheritance is better than living in truth while struggling to make payroll? It all unfolds page by page and will definitely leave readers wanting to read more from the Bentley Dean series. My reviewI have to be honest. I was afraid to read this book until I found out that E. Lynn Harris HAD indeed finished this one himself. I wasn't sure if I could take someone finishing his work by adding to it or taking away from it. After I found out that he finished this one himself before he died then it was a go. From the moment I picked up this novel I fell back in love with the E. Lynn Harris that stole my heart with his first novel Invisible Life. In Invisible Life, Harris was able to create the original persona of the "Down-Low" brother before we attached the tag Down-Low to him. Now that we know about the Down-Low brother and the sometimes complicated lives he leads, Harris revisits the topic with modern twists such as family denial, homophobia, and HIV/AIDS. This book was a quick read for me and I often caught my self racing to get from chapter to chapter to see what would happen next. The characters were well developed and left me kind of upset when the story ended. I was literally looking at the last page saying, "Really E. Lynn? Really?" Yes, I know I got it bad. Really bad.So needless to say, I was sad when the end came. I was left wondering if I would get to read the next two novels in the Bentley Dean series. I will say this, if Harris' estate and the publisher can come to terms on whether to print the remainder of the series I would like for it to remain as he left it. If he only wrote half of the next book then release that untouched except for minor editing. I will respect that more than another author attempting to sound like The E. Lynn Harris.
Received 07 Jul 2010 - LibraryThing Early Reviewers programmeMy being white, female, straight and English did not stem my enjoyment of this novel about black gay men in America, and presumably this was why I was picked to receive this book. I've read and enjoyed Harris' books for some time now and was very pleased to win this one. It was a fairly quick read. The main character, Bentley, is a man who is trying to stay moral and just in a world that tries to encourage just the opposite. In conflict with his father, who dislikes his "life choices", he sets up his own business away from the riches of the family firm. When recession hits and it's a struggle to keep going, he feels forced to take on a job for his modelling agency that he wouldn't normally touch, supplying men for a private party. He has bad feelings, especially when his mentee, Jah, becomes involved, but squashes them for the sake of the money. Now, you wouldn't maybe expect a novel about modelling agencies and gay men who indulge in all sorts of practices (and some of it is a bit explicit, which doesn't bother me but might be worth mentioning), to be a particularly moral read, and indeed the dust jacket plays up the glamour and risk, but it's actually all about mentoring, fatherhood (of various kinds), doing the right thing, keeping safe, and love.Being set at the time of the Obama election and the credit crunch offers an interesting dimention to this novel and it's up to date in its use of facebook and texting as plot devices, without this seeming laboured. Some characters are not rounded enough for me, and the ending seemed a bit sudden - but the back of the jacket implies that this was supposed to be the first in a series featuring Bentley and his modelling agency. Tragically, the author died after completing this book, so this won't happen.A good read with momentum given by the thriller-y plot, some satisfyingly twisty sub-plots, and depth given by the probing questions of Bentley's therapist.
As regular readers of Harris's books will expect, "In My Father's House" is very light reading. It's an enjoyable read, good for the beach perhaps. It's more fantasy than novel, as Harris goes to great lengths with each character he introduces that she or he is fabulously rich, blindingly gorgeous, or both. This went on past absurdity -- if the book were a movie, there would be a drinking game marking every time it drew attention to an ostentatious detail. Players would also drink at the word "boi," which appears on average about once a page, to the exclusion of "boy."Also distracting were a number of editing failures that give the impression that Harris isn't as literate as the average novelist. As an example, witness page 155: "money is no option." If neither Harris nor his editor knows the idiom well enough to know that it has to be "money is no object" to even make sense, then Harris needs to find a more capable editor.
AGE~ 14. LOOKS ~ tan skin brown curly hair that reaches her shoulders. Dark brown eyes. 4ft 11 inches. People say I'm pretty. Eh. LIKES ~ Friends, music, 1D, writing, reading, helping people, making people laugh, dancing and singing (but I'm not good at it) and Rachel. DISLIKES ~ Bullies, sluts, vegtables, miley cyrus, chores, coffee and common unlikable things. PERSONALITY ~ Sweet, loving and sociable. Mean to people she doesn't like. Fun and funny. Kinda flirty. Ummm that's it
Name: Sarah Rachel Chester (goes by Rachel)<p> Age: 13 <p> B-Day: March 31<p> Height: 4'5"<p> Hair color: strawberry blonde<p> Hair length: goes down to my waist<p> Face: roundish<p> Eye color: bright blue<p> Clothes: things pink, purple, or blue<p> Skin: tanish<p> Weight: about 60-70 pounds<p> Favorite color: purple<p> Favorite animal: wolf<p> Personality: bubbly, girly<p> Crush/GF: Layla<p> Anything else: just ask.
You go there first*
He was such a great writer. As usual I was pulled into the characters like I knew them personally.
Are you on todd
Loved it !!!!! Mr. Harris has done it again. His open-mindedness is what made him a great writer. There is a message in this novel for all. Respect & forgiveness sometimes has to be earned. Sometimes parents have to make right what they have wronged.
Very entertaining book couldnt put it down...read it in 1 day!
another good book of the E Lynn Harris family
A must read. You will struggle to put this book down. It's amazing! Another winner by the late E Lynn Harris.
This was a good read. Im sad that E. Lynn is no longer with us!