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Ordained by the Streets
Ordained by the Streets
Ordained by the Streets
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Ordained by the Streets

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“While half the women in the neighborhood got dressed up in their Sunday’s best to go worship an invisible man, the real live men of flesh they laid down with every night was giving my mother praise. And although they weren’t putting ten percent of their earnings in some shiny collection plate, they were doing pretty good filling up my mom’s Crowne Royal bag that laid on her nightstand, next to her bed.” 

Ordained By The Streets introduces you to Poppa, or rather, Poppa introduces you to himself. A self-proclaimed street preacher, Poppa’s credentials and credibility don’t come from the church house or a preacher man; it comes straight from where it counts…the streets. 

More than eyes have seen or ears have heard, Poppa never becomes jaded by the lives and stories he encounters in his position on the streets. In this urban tract, Poppa encounters a girl whose mind he sets out to manipulate. After all, that’s what he does. But in this girl, Poppa just might have met his match. 

When this girl bares her soul to Poppa with details of her life, he has no idea just how much her story is going to change his life…forever.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateMar 24, 2016
ISBN9781524238629
Ordained by the Streets
Author

E. N. Joy

BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy is the author behind the “New Day Divas,” “Still Divas,” “Always Divas” and “Forever Divas" series, all which have been coined “Soap Operas in Print.” She is an Essence Magazine Bestselling Author who wrote secular books under the names Joylynn M. Jossel and JOY. Her title, If I Ruled the World, earned her a book blurb from Grammy Award Winning Artist, Erykah Badu. An All Night Man, an anthology she penned with New York Times Bestselling Author Brenda Jackson, earned the Borders bestselling African American romance award. Her Urban Fiction title, Dollar Bill (Triple Crown Publications), appeared in Newsweek and has been translated to Japanese.After thirteen years of being a paralegal in the insurance industry, E. N. Joy divorced her career and married her mistress and her passion; writing. In 2000, she formed her own publishing company where she published her books until landing a book deal with St. Martin's Press. This award winning author has been sharing her literary expertise on conference panels in her home town of Columbus, Ohio as well as cities across the country. She also conducts publishing/writing workshops for aspiring writers.Her children’s book titled The Secret Olivia Told Me, written under the name N. Joy, received a Coretta Scott King Honor from the American Library Association. The book was also acquired by Scholastic Books and has sold almost 100,000 copies. Elementary and middle school children have fallen in love with reading and creative writing as a result of the readings and workshops E. N. Joy instructs in schools nationwide.In addition, she is the artistic developer for a young girl group named DJHK Gurls. She pens original songs, drama skits and monologues for the group that deal with messages that affect today’s youth, such as bullying.After being the first content development editor for Triple Crown Publications and ten years as the acquisitions editor for Carl Weber's Urban Christian imprint, E. N. Joy now does freelance editing, ghostwriting, write-behinds and literary consulting. Her clients have included New York Times Bestselling authors, entertainers, aspiring authors, as well as first-time authors. Some notable literary consulting clients include actor Christian Keyes, singer Olivia Longott and Reality Television star Shereé M. Whitfield.You can visit BLESSEDselling Author E. N. Joy at www.enjoywrites.com or email her at enjoywrites@aol.com. If you want to experience a blast from her past, you can visit www.joylynnjossel.com.

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    Book preview

    Ordained by the Streets - E. N. Joy

    Ordained By the Streets

    Book One of The Street Preacher series

    An Urban Tract

    By E. N. Joy

    ––––––––

    Published by End of the Rainbow Projects

    P.O. Box 128

    Reynoldsburg, Ohio 43068

    Copyright© 2016 by End of the Rainbow Projects

    This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places and incidents is entirely coincidental.

    Other titles by this Author are:

    Me, Myself and Him

    She Who Finds a Husband

    Been There, Prayed That

    Love, Honor or Stray

    Trying to Stay Saved

    I Can Do Better All By Myself

    And You Call Yourself a Christian

    The Perfect Christian

    The Sunday Only Christian

    I Ain’t Me No More

    More Than I Can Bear

    You Get What You Pray For

    When All is Said and Prayed

    One Sunday at a Time

    Even Sinners Have Souls (Edited by E. N. Joy)

    Even Sinners Have Souls TOO (Edited by E. N .Joy)

    Even Sinners Still Have Souls (Edited by E. N. Joy)

    Dedication

    This Urban Tract is first dedicated to God for giving me the details of this story blow by blow in a dream, and for allowing me to remember every single aspect of the dream when I woke up.  You did that for a reason.  Now I’m waiting on the edge of my seat for you to reveal why.

    Acknowledgements

    My family and friends always deserve a great big shout out.  It’s hard to fly and soar toward your dreams without wind beneath your wings.  Family and friends, especially my husband and four children, you are the wind beneath my wings.

    Chapter One

    I’m Saved, she said as she stood next to me, full of a painted-on attitude.  It was clear, to me anyway, that she was trying to hide.  She was trying to hide the fact that underneath that Khaki mini skirt, crisp, white Tommy Hilfiger puffy short sleeved blouse, and behind those hundred dollar tennis shoes that she wore with footies with a ball on the back, she was nothing but a bonafide hoodrat.

    Her outfit was fitting for the end of spring beginning of summer weather we were having here in Columbus, Ohio.  What wasn’t fitting, though, was her.  She just didn’t look cut out for what she was trying to paste herself into.

    I looked at my favorite girl, Tia, strangely as we all stood outside of the Greyhound bus station on Town and Fourth Street.  For real, Tia?  Are you serious with this one?  I mean, I had to ask her.  Like I said, this footie wearing hoodrat just didn’t seem to fit the picture I’d painted in my head when Tia had told me about her over the phone.  I couldn’t believe I’d interrupted a recorded episode of The Wire for this live rendition of Orphan Annie here.

    Poppa, I’m serious, Tia replied.  You know I wouldn’t play you like that-waste your time and all.  Tia rocked back and forth, shifting her one hundred and eighteen pounds from one leg to the other.  She’s everything I said she was.  Tia looked at the girl.  She’s young; said she just turned eighteen, looking for work and got no place to stay.

    The typical runaway fresh off the Greyhound bus, I thought.  But what was she running from? Or perhaps I should be asking who was she running from?  Then there was always the possibility that she was actually running to something.

    Both Tia and I looked the girl up and down.  Eighteen, I commented in disbelief, then sucked my teeth while shaking my head.

    Yeah, eighteen, the girl jumped in, detecting my doubt. What?  You calling me a liar or something?  ‘Cause I don’t get down with nobody who don’t trust me and thinks I’m a liar.

    As offended as the girl tried to sound—as upset about my not believing she wasn’t eighteen as she tried to appeared—I knew she wasn’t eighteen.  Seventeen maybe...seventeen and a half about to have a birthday, but eighteen she was not.  I mean, who did she think she was fooling with here, an amateur?  I’d been in this game for seven years; since I was seventeen myself.  So I’m kind of what one might think of as a connoisseur when it came to broads.  Like wine, I could just sniff ‘em and tell everything I needed to know about ‘em.  And this one...sniff sniff sniff...was seventeen.

    She ain’t have no ID on her, Poppa, Tia added.  But what reasons she got to lie?  Ain’t like there’s a legal age limit for what she gon’ be doin’ anyway, Tia chuckled.  I think I did pretty good if you ask me. Shrugging, Tia simply stood next to Little Bo Peep (or was she the lost little sheep?) as if she’d just brought forth the best of her herd to be sacrificed. 

    As I stared at the two, it was no wonder Tia was so fond of the young girl.  Standing there together, they looked like they could have been best friends in high school. Tia the leader of the pack of course, with her long weave down to her butt, acrylic nails and pretty brown skin donned in cosmetics.  Her clothes, skinny jeans, a silky blouse with ruffles and two inch heels made her look a little more mature than her protégé.  Although she would be turning twenty-two her next birthday, Tia could easily pass for a high schooler.

    Yeah, Tia, I agree, I decided to stroke her ego just a tad. I think you might have done good, but we’ll have to see.  I took a step closer to the young girl and gave her the once over.  Yeah, we’ll just have to see about Mary’s little lamb here.  I chuckled this time around.

    If I were to use church folk terms, I could have referred to Tia as an Evangelist.  Somehow she had an anointing on her that could bring the people into the house.  Not the house of the Lord, but the house where I gathered, fed and kept all the other sheep like the strange girl standing before me; like Tia herself.

    After a brief observation, this young girl appeared to be just another lost sheep that had now been found.  She’d been found by Tia.  I could be wrong; this girl could have, in fact, found Tia.  Young girls were just drawn to Tia like that.  It was because Tia looked like she had the answer they needed in order to make it.  Other girls didn’t feel threatened by her.  With the way Tia walked, with the way Tia talked, and with the way she looked at them with such conviction in her eyes, by the time Tia was finished with her verbal spiel, they believed she could lead them to someone who could save them from the evil that lurked.  Not save their souls, not save them from the wretches of hell, but save them from the streets.

    So what’s the deal? Now the girl looked me up and down like she was sizing me up, ...Poppa?  The way she said my name, unlike when the other girls said my name, had a hint of sarcasm behind it.  It was like she was wondering if I could live up to my name.  Could I be that Poppa, that Daddy in a girl’s life that most of them were out here on these streets seeking?

    I don’t know yet, I replied, wondering why I was even still entertaining this broad at this point.  She had too much lip.  That meant trouble.  Coming from the streets though, trouble always seemed to find me, whether I was hiding from it or not.

    You don’t know? The girl sucked her teeth and then looked at Tia.  What kind of mess is this?  I don’t have time for this.  I’m tired, I’m dirty...I’m tired.  Is we gon’ do this or not?  If not, I’m going to keep it moving.

    She looked at me as if her leaving would be my loss.  I thought for a second; heck, maybe it would be.  But she was right; we’d already wasted enough time.  In this business, time was money.  She needed to make up for lost time. ‘To turn her out or not to turn her out?’  That is the question that lied before me. Hmm, now what would be my answer?

    Chapter Two

    I looked over Tia’s and the girl’s shoulders as if I was looking for someone else.  It was time to start playing the game.

    Wha-what is it, Poppa? Tia asked, looking behind her.

    I’m looking for that chick you was telling me about on the phone that had me dragging my butt all the way down to this bus station.  I pretended as though Little Bo Peep was invisible.  It was time to break her down.

    "Poppa, this is the girl I was telling you about, Tia stressed, playing along. The one I met in there, inside the bus station." Tia pointed toward the bus station doors of which we stood about twenty-five feet from at the curb.

    This is her? I said, feigning shock that Tia would even think that I would entertain allowing this girl to feed in our pasture.

    It wasn’t a complete act though.  I was somewhat shocked, because Tia should have known better.  She knew my type more than any of the girls.  Tia was one of my best girls, which is why I kept her posted up at the bus station.  I did this for two reasons.  For one, she was a sight for the sore eyes of those dudes fresh off of hours, sometime days, of travel without female companionship.  She, uh, sort of knew how to lead them to a help mate.  She, uh, kind of, helped them mate.  Second, she was hope for those girls fresh off of hours, some days, of travel with nothing to eat and nowhere to go once they stepped off the bus.

    I shook my head.  For real, Tia girl, who is this chick? I asked.

    I’m Saved, the girl said once again, this time extending her hand.

    I noticed the sterling silver crucifix around her neck.  So what’s a saved girl doing looking to get into this line of work? I asked, taking her hand into mine and kissing her knuckles.  It was time to get into character.  I then pulled out a handkerchief from the pocket of my

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