Life Is (Was…Will Be?) Good Indigo Summer has everything she wants: a coveted spot on the high school dance squad, a hot boyfriend (the one and only Marcus Carter) and—her best friend, Jade, is moving back to Atlanta! But why does trouble always have to follow? Jade is suddenly getting too cozy with their good-looking history teacher. And instead of shooting hoops, Marcus is sitting in a courthouse, forced to prove his innocence for something he didn't do. Indigo is feeling the pressure—from the squad, from her friends, from her family. It's time to show everyone—and herself—that she's made of strong stuff. Monica McKayhan writes adult and young adult fiction. She currently has 9 titles in print. Her YA novel, Indigo Summer, was the launch title for Harlequin’s young adult imprint, Kimani TRU. Indigo Summer snagged the #7 position on the Essence bestsellers list and appeared on the American Library Association (ALA)’s list of Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers. To schedule an appearance, book signing or interview with Monica, please email publicity@monicamckayhan.com. Jade My head bounced against the leather seat, the headphones of my iPod on my ears, the latest copy of Vibe magazine facedown in my lap, and a little bit of drool crept down the side of my mouth. When I felt a little turbulence, I sat straight up, looking around to grasp my surroundings. We were still in the air. Had to be. Because when I peered out of the small porthole window, I saw nothing but white clouds all fluffy and smooth, like huge pillows in the sky. My mind wandered back to the scene at the airport. My mother was trying to be all hard, but I knew she wanted to cry because I did. This would be the first time in all of my fifteen years that we'd be separated—forever. Or, as she put it, at least until I got my stuff together. She had to feel it. But she just stood there, with that goofy look on her face, holding on to my little sister's hand for dear life, so Mattie wouldn't run off and get lost. She hugged me, but then pulled away quickly, turning her face from me. My mother was never the mushy, kissing-and-hugging type. She hardly ever even told me she loved me. Only in conversation. Like she might say, "Jade, I'm only whipping your behind because I love you." She never just hugged me before bed, like white kids' mamas did, and said, "You know what, Jade? I love you." Never that. My daddy, on the other hand, was always kissing and hugging my sister and me. He always told us how much he loved us. Every single day he told us. And he listened to us—listened to our thoughts, our ideas. And he didn't fuss nearly as much as my mother did. She was always fussing about something. No wonder my daddy packed his things into a U-Haul and moved away from us. I remember that day like it was yesterday. He'd come home late—really late—again. And Mama was really mad. She started an argument with him and told him that she wanted him to move out. He pleaded with her to change her mind, but her mind was made up. The next thing I knew, he was gone. He moved into an apartment on the other side of town, where Mattie and I only got to visit him every other weekend. Then, as if that wasn't enough, Mama decided to up and move us away. Just smack out of the blue, we packed up and moved to my grandmother's house in Jersey. Just when I was about to experience the time of my life—going to high school for the first time, trying out for the dance team and hanging out with my best friend, Indigo—she took all of that away from me, just like that. Now, separated from my father and my best friend, I knew for sure that my world had come to an end. But Mama didn't care. She only cared about her own agenda, and making my daddy suffer for making her mad. She didn't care that I hated New Jersey and living with my grandmother who made us go to church three, sometimes four, times a week. She didn't care that I didn't know a single soul at my new high school. She didn't even care that my grades dropped and that I'd lost ten pounds because I stopped eating. And every time I tried to explain it to her, she simply said, "Jade, you just have to give Jersey a chance. You'll meet some new friends soon." I did meet some new friends, but they weren't Indigo. Indigo and I had history. We had been friends since kindergarten, and that was something that couldn't be replaced by new friendships. And I missed my daddy like crazy. I called him every single night, but it wasn't the same as seeing him—in the flesh—every day. And he missed us, too. I could hear it in his voice. We were the apples of his eye—Mattie and me. He told us so all the time. I had to do something and get Mama's attention somehow. She wouldn't listen to my pleas, so I put together a plan of action. I started skipping school, stopped turning in my homework assignments and started giving my teachers a hard time. My plan was to get Mama's attention one way or another. Once the teachers started calling