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Rhonda Tibbs

Writer, reader, wife, mother, grandmother. I've lived, loved, lost, fallen down and smacked my face on the truth more than once. Through my writing, I attempt to make those lessons count for something by taking a reader on a journey worth investing their time and money.


“Stacy smiled proudly and he filed the image of her sweet face in the section of his heart he shared with no one else ~ Brian, Song of the Snowman"Mom said if you put ears on your snowman, he’ll hear the music of the angels and sing songs to you.” ~ Stacy, Song of the SnowmanThe sweet promise of her embrace cured the loneliness in him. In her arms, he was whole. ~ Brian, Song of the Snowman He composed music, dreamed of the future, and kept the situations he couldn’t change at bay to the rhythm of his feet drumming on the concrete. Brian, Song of the SnowmanThis was as simple as his life got  rhythm, rhyme, and fingertips on cool keys. ~ Brian, Song of the Snowman”
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“I had waited so long to touch him. I was like a kid in a candy store. I backed him into the cabinets and pressed myself against his lean body. Gabe was breathing hard and he grinned.“Goodness, Purdie Magee.”"What?" I said."I'm a little surprised."I took his hands into my own and kissed his palms then his fingers. I placed his hands on my hips and pushed a little harder against the part of him that made us significantly different and he took it from there.”
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“The sympathetic angel reached out and the moment she touched him, he gasped. This was no angel. There was no reprieve. ~ Michael O'Mara, from Angel's Blues”
Rhonda Tibbs
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