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  #51  
Old 01-18-2005
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Sure no prob, what I mean is that I don't force the characters to go in a certain direction. Sometimes I think it would be really cool for a character to do this or that but their personality dictates that they'd do something totally different. So rather than argue with them, I let them do what they would naturally do in that scene.

I usually use a laptop (although right now my computer's being fixed). But before I actually start the writing process I use pen and pad to figure out the plot and cool scenes, etc.

Jeff
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  #52  
Old 01-24-2005
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You're funny.
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  #53  
Old 01-27-2005
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Default BOOKS for YOU

If you haven't read my book, Forever My Lady yet and you'd like an autographed copy mailed to you: just email me your name and mailing address.

My email address is: Jeff@JeffRivera.com

(For those of you still waiting for your copies, don't worry. They're on their way ...)

I can only afford to mail this to the first 25 people that respond, so if you're interested please do it right away.
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  #54  
Old 01-30-2005
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cmo'n people what you all waiting for????

awesome book and i promise you'll be anticipating the sequel.......

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  #55  
Old 01-30-2005
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Thanks Veronica, will you email me please. I have to ask you something ...

Jeff
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  #56  
Old 01-30-2005
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hold on so what do i do now (i really want that book
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  #57  
Old 01-30-2005
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Cool just email me at: Jeff@JeffRivera.com
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  #58  
Old 02-01-2005
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Default an excerpt

(an excerpt from Forever My Lady by Jeff Rivera)



“Don’t be stupid Foo’. Don’t be a pendejo.”



Dio looked at his homie Spooky’s grip on his jacket. Most of his boys called Dio “Playboy” because all the ladies loved him, but those that had known him since he was a kid called him his real name, Dio.



He took another hit off his joint. He’d given up smoking over a year ago, had to, but on this day he was more nervous that he had ever been in his life. Thunder rumbled and rain poured, making it impossible to see. Thunder scared Dio, always had. Dio fought to keep from shaking. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow. He tried to hide his fear. His mind was set. He had to do it. Dio yanked his arm away from Spooky, and pushed the door open.



“Just keep the car runnin’, ese.”



Spooky was a big guy, tattoos up and down his arm and a glass eye. He normally would have just kept Dio from leaving at all, but he knew nothing could stop him. Nothing at all. Dio jumped out the car. It was a ‘57 Chevy, slick red, with a chili-pepper-hot Mexican heina painted across the hood. Dio had painted that picture himself. Complete with chrome wheels. It was dope.



He slammed the door shut and looked up at the Cathedral in front of him. Lightning illuminated its majestic towers, windows with an eerie stained glass. He’d spent many a night imagining this would be where he’d marry her. They’d have a huge wedding with members of their families flying in from all over the world just to watch this event; this marriage he thought was so destined to be. He’d put his everything into this dream, his one and only dream, and now as he yanked the heavy Oak doors open, his heart pounded like a subwoofer.



He dried his soaked clothes with his hand and scratched his shoes on the mat so as not to squeak across the old wood floor. The church was jam-packed, mostly with Mexicans and Puerto Ricans, but some blacks.



Probably his familia, Dio thought. How could she even think about marrying some pinche negro?



The grand organ music permeated the building while a choir of children sang, their voices echoing throughout the church. It smelled musty in the air, a mix of wood stain and must as if they never really cleaned the place, just painted over it.

He tried not to be too suspicious, slipping past every one. Funny, he was dressed probably better than he’d ever been. Black suit, his wavy black hair slicked back, starched white shirt, polished black shoes.



Dio had grown into a very nice looking young man. Maybe even could have been a model, had he played his cards right. Maybe if he hadn’t grown up in the slums of Northeast Vegas, he could have been one of those Latin heartthrobs that were in those magazines. Instead, most of the time he looked like the thug most people assumed he was just by looking at him.

But on this day, this very weird day, he was even wearing a tie. Jennifer would have been so proud of him if she could see him. Funny, he’d probably be the last thing she’d see.



He checked his jacket pocket to make sure it was still there. Yep, it felt like a brick pressed against his chest. But he was so numb, or more like so focused, that he was oblivious to it. All he knew was that he had to find Jennifer, and he would use any means necessary.



Wham! Dio bumped hard into a glass table. His thigh throbbed in pain as bullets dropped from his pocket and bounced off the tile floor. The sound echoed all over the lobby. People looked around for the source of the sound, but Dio managed to scoop them up before anyone could see.



He got up and noticed the beautiful ice sculpture on the table--melting, dripping like an ice cream cone in August. Melting just like his heart.



He saw Father Martínez, his priest, the one he’d grown up with. It was as if the whole world had turned against him. They’d sided with Jennifer, when this was supposed to be their wedding. It was as if she’d slapped him across the face, as if nothing they’d been through together even mattered. The whole thing was surreal.



She loved him. She’d said that over and over to him since they were little kids. She’d taken care of him and believed in him and dreamed with him and held him when nobody else could give a care.



“Estoy aquí para ti. No matter what -- Siempre,” they’d promised each other. And a promise was a promise.



“Don’t be stupid, Foo’. Don’t be a pendejo.” His brother’s scolding remarks kept playing in his head. He warned Dio to just let it go. It wasn’t worth it. Normally Spooky would have been all for it, but this time around he said to “olvídalo…let it go.” It was as if he sensed something was going to go wrong and, no matter how high Spooky had been, his gut was always right.



Dio only hoped this time around he was wrong. He had worked so hard. He could really get a fresh new start now, “a new lease on life,” as his probation officer used to say, but now he was risking it all to confront Jennifer.



Was Spooky right? Should he just let it go, face it that she didn’t want to be with him no matter how hard and bad it felt? Should he just forget the whole thing? Maybe he’d meet some other ruca. Time heals all wounds, they say, and maybe if he’d just -- But no, Dio shoved those thoughts out of his mind.



He’d spent the last year changing his life around for her, so they could be together, so he would be the man she said she’d always wanted, so he could be the daddy his daughter needed. They were meant to be together and he was going to make Jennifer understand that, if it was the last thing he would do.



He could see Jennifer’s family in the front, dressed in their Sunday best. Her mom always made a spectacle of herself with her gigantic summer hat in purple. She never did like Dio and he knew she probably orchestrated this whole thing, probably arranged the whole wedding herself.



He wondered if perhaps Jennifer was doing this just to make her mom happy, but then he saw her … the music changed, the children’s choir sounded so beautiful, he had to admit, so irritatingly perfect. All heads turned and gasped as the bride, Jennifer, made her way down the aisle. Her father took her arm, biting his lip, trying not to cry.

He looks nervous, Dio thought.



Jennifer looked incredible. How could she afford a dress like that? The guy must be rich or something. That’s probably what it was. That’s probably why she was marrying him. It had to be the money, the one thing Dio could never give her. Her gown had a laced top, cut just low enough to show her sensual bust line, but high enough to showcase the first class-act that she was. Her face was shielded by her veil. He hadn’t seen her in so long. It seemed like the whole auditorium held their breath with him.



Her mom made a dramatic spectacle of herself; her wails were the only thing that could be heard above the organ playing as the children’s choir reached a crescendo, then trailed off. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Even Dio had to fight the tears.



Thunder rumbled. Her father escorted her over to her groom. He was a nice looking man, a light-skinned black man. Maybe he was mulatto or something. He wore a striped, stuffed tie, not a traditional bow tie, and the tux must have been Armani or something. He had one of those smiles with teeth so white it blinded you. His gaze never left Jennifer, even as the priest rambled on and on with the vows.



“I, Antonio Estrella ---“



What kind of nombre was that? Estrella? Jennifer Estrella. It just didn’t match her. No le queda.



“… hereby take you as my wife, to have and to hold…”



There was a lump in the back of Dio’s throat. He wanted to burst out “No!” but it hurt so bad.



“I, Jennifer Lalita Sánchez …” He couldn’t believe his ears, she was promising him her life. Thunder rumbled, the lights went out. There was a small gasp in the audience, but Jennifer just smiled, the candles illuminating her. She was too lost in the groom’s eyes.



“…to have and to hold, through sickness and health …” she continued.



He couldn’t help it anymore. Tears came streaming from Dio’s eyes. This was too much for him. He was about to explode. His blood boiled.



He looked around at all the stained-glass Bible stories, the creepy statue of Jesus on the cross. He swore Jesus was glaring right at him as if he was saying “No lo hagas…Don’t do it.” He looked the other way but the statue of the Virgin Mary scolded him as well.



Dio couldn’t help but think how proud his own mother had been with how he’d changed his life around, the tears of joy she’d shed. He’d never seen her like that before. He shuddered to think how his mother would feel after all this went down, how ashamed she’d be. Maybe it would drive her to drinking again. Drinking again after how far she’d come around.



“With the power invested in me in the state of Nevada, I hereby declare you … man and wife.”



Dio couldn’t breathe. The only thing that kept him from passing out was seeing Jennifer’s face as her new husband lifted the veil. She was more beautiful than ever. She had olive-colored skin and was the type of girl that never did need any makeup, in fact she hated wearing it. But this time she was wearing just enough. Her dark brown hair was curled, glitter sparkled in it. She looked like an angel, no, a goddess, better than the pictures Dio drew of her, better than he’d remembered her looking in his dreams.



He’d never seen Jennifer so happy. Not even when she was with him. She always seemed so distracted, but now she really did look like she was in love.

How could that be possible?



He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone. Didn’t she see that? How could she do this to him? The ice sculpture melted like it was on fire.



His heart raced as he reached for the .45 caliber in his pocket, which Dio called his cuete. He could hear the rain pounding against the stained-glass windows and the roof. His sweaty hands pulled for it, his heart in his throat. He crossed himself, closed his eyes and prayed he was about to do the right thing.



Will Dio Shoot Jennifer?
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  #59  
Old 02-01-2005
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Ayyy mucho la writting...lol
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  #60  
Old 02-01-2005
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This is a great book. If you havent read it yet I suggest you go get a copy.
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  #61  
Old 02-01-2005
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Default an excerpt

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(an excerpt from Forever My Lady by Jeff Rivera)



“Don’t be stupid Foo’. Don’t be a pendejo.”



Dio looked at his homie Spooky’s grip on his jacket. Most of his boys called Dio “Playboy” because all the ladies loved him, but those that had known him since he was a kid called him his real name, Dio.



He took another hit off his joint. He’d given up smoking over a year ago, had to, but on this day he was more nervous that he had ever been in his life. Thunder rumbled and rain poured, making it impossible to see. Thunder scared Dio, always had. Dio fought to keep from shaking. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow. He tried to hide his fear. His mind was set. He had to do it. Dio yanked his arm away from Spooky, and pushed the door open.



“Just keep the car runnin’, ese.”



Spooky was a big guy, tattoos up and down his arm and a glass eye. He normally would have just kept Dio from leaving at all, but he knew nothing could stop him. Nothing at all. Dio jumped out the car. It was a ‘57 Chevy, slick red, with a chili-pepper-hot Mexican heina painted across the hood. Dio had painted that picture himself. Complete with chrome wheels. It was dope.



He slammed the door shut and looked up at the Cathedral in front of him. Lightning illuminated its majestic towers, windows with an eerie stained glass. He’d spent many a night imagining this would be where he’d marry her. They’d have a huge wedding with members of their families flying in from all over the world just to watch this event; this marriage he thought was so destined to be. He’d put his everything into this dream, his one and only dream, and now as he yanked the heavy Oak doors open, his heart pounded like a subwoofer.



He dried his soaked clothes with his hand and scratched his shoes on the mat so as not to squeak across the old wood floor. The church was jam-packed, mostly with Mexicans and Puerto Ricans, but some blacks.



Probably his familia, Dio thought. How could she even think about marrying some pinche negro?



The grand organ music permeated the building while a choir of children sang, their voices echoing throughout the church. It smelled musty in the air, a mix of wood stain and must as if they never really cleaned the place, just painted over it.

He tried not to be too suspicious, slipping past every one. Funny, he was dressed probably better than he’d ever been. Black suit, his wavy black hair slicked back, starched white shirt, polished black shoes.



Dio had grown into a very nice looking young man. Maybe even could have been a model, had he played his cards right. Maybe if he hadn’t grown up in the slums of Northeast Vegas, he could have been one of those Latin heartthrobs that were in those magazines. Instead, most of the time he looked like the thug most people assumed he was just by looking at him.

But on this day, this very weird day, he was even wearing a tie. Jennifer would have been so proud of him if she could see him. Funny, he’d probably be the last thing she’d see.



He checked his jacket pocket to make sure it was still there. Yep, it felt like a brick pressed against his chest. But he was so numb, or more like so focused, that he was oblivious to it. All he knew was that he had to find Jennifer, and he would use any means necessary.



Wham! Dio bumped hard into a glass table. His thigh throbbed in pain as bullets dropped from his pocket and bounced off the tile floor. The sound echoed all over the lobby. People looked around for the source of the sound, but Dio managed to scoop them up before anyone could see.



He got up and noticed the beautiful ice sculpture on the table--melting, dripping like an ice cream cone in August. Melting just like his heart.



He saw Father Martínez, his priest, the one he’d grown up with. It was as if the whole world had turned against him. They’d sided with Jennifer, when this was supposed to be their wedding. It was as if she’d slapped him across the face, as if nothing they’d been through together even mattered. The whole thing was surreal.



She loved him. She’d said that over and over to him since they were little kids. She’d taken care of him and believed in him and dreamed with him and held him when nobody else could give a care.



“Estoy aquí para ti. No matter what -- Siempre,” they’d promised each other. And a promise was a promise.



“Don’t be stupid, Foo’. Don’t be a pendejo.” His brother’s scolding remarks kept playing in his head. He warned Dio to just let it go. It wasn’t worth it. Normally Spooky would have been all for it, but this time around he said to “olvídalo…let it go.” It was as if he sensed something was going to go wrong and, no matter how high Spooky had been, his gut was always right.



Dio only hoped this time around he was wrong. He had worked so hard. He could really get a fresh new start now, “a new lease on life,” as his probation officer used to say, but now he was risking it all to confront Jennifer.



Was Spooky right? Should he just let it go, face it that she didn’t want to be with him no matter how hard and bad it felt? Should he just forget the whole thing? Maybe he’d meet some other ruca. Time heals all wounds, they say, and maybe if he’d just -- But no, Dio shoved those thoughts out of his mind.



He’d spent the last year changing his life around for her, so they could be together, so he would be the man she said she’d always wanted, so he could be the daddy his daughter needed. They were meant to be together and he was going to make Jennifer understand that, if it was the last thing he would do.



He could see Jennifer’s family in the front, dressed in their Sunday best. Her mom always made a spectacle of herself with her gigantic summer hat in purple. She never did like Dio and he knew she probably orchestrated this whole thing, probably arranged the whole wedding herself.



He wondered if perhaps Jennifer was doing this just to make her mom happy, but then he saw her … the music changed, the children’s choir sounded so beautiful, he had to admit, so irritatingly perfect. All heads turned and gasped as the bride, Jennifer, made her way down the aisle. Her father took her arm, biting his lip, trying not to cry.

He looks nervous, Dio thought.



Jennifer looked incredible. How could she afford a dress like that? The guy must be rich or something. That’s probably what it was. That’s probably why she was marrying him. It had to be the money, the one thing Dio could never give her. Her gown had a laced top, cut just low enough to show her sensual bust line, but high enough to showcase the first class-act that she was. Her face was shielded by her veil. He hadn’t seen her in so long. It seemed like the whole auditorium held their breath with him.



Her mom made a dramatic spectacle of herself; her wails were the only thing that could be heard above the organ playing as the children’s choir reached a crescendo, then trailed off. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house. Even Dio had to fight the tears.



Thunder rumbled. Her father escorted her over to her groom. He was a nice looking man, a light-skinned black man. Maybe he was mulatto or something. He wore a striped, stuffed tie, not a traditional bow tie, and the tux must have been Armani or something. He had one of those smiles with teeth so white it blinded you. His gaze never left Jennifer, even as the priest rambled on and on with the vows.



“I, Antonio Estrella ---“



What kind of nombre was that? Estrella? Jennifer Estrella. It just didn’t match her. No le queda.



“… hereby take you as my wife, to have and to hold…”



There was a lump in the back of Dio’s throat. He wanted to burst out “No!” but it hurt so bad.



“I, Jennifer Lalita Sánchez …” He couldn’t believe his ears, she was promising him her life. Thunder rumbled, the lights went out. There was a small gasp in the audience, but Jennifer just smiled, the candles illuminating her. She was too lost in the groom’s eyes.



“…to have and to hold, through sickness and health …” she continued.



He couldn’t help it anymore. Tears came streaming from Dio’s eyes. This was too much for him. He was about to explode. His blood boiled.



He looked around at all the stained-glass Bible stories, the creepy statue of Jesus on the cross. He swore Jesus was glaring right at him as if he was saying “No lo hagas…Don’t do it.” He looked the other way but the statue of the Virgin Mary scolded him as well.



Dio couldn’t help but think how proud his own mother had been with how he’d changed his life around, the tears of joy she’d shed. He’d never seen her like that before. He shuddered to think how his mother would feel after all this went down, how ashamed she’d be. Maybe it would drive her to drinking again. Drinking again after how far she’d come around.



“With the power invested in me in the state of Nevada, I hereby declare you … man and wife.”



Dio couldn’t breathe. The only thing that kept him from passing out was seeing Jennifer’s face as her new husband lifted the veil. She was more beautiful than ever. She had olive-colored skin and was the type of girl that never did need any makeup, in fact she hated wearing it. But this time she was wearing just enough. Her dark brown hair was curled, glitter sparkled in it. She looked like an angel, no, a goddess, better than the pictures Dio drew of her, better than he’d remembered her looking in his dreams.



He’d never seen Jennifer so happy. Not even when she was with him. She always seemed so distracted, but now she really did look like she was in love.

How could that be possible?



He loved her more than he’d ever loved anyone. Didn’t she see that? How could she do this to him? The ice sculpture melted like it was on fire.



His heart raced as he reached for the .45 caliber in his pocket, which Dio called his cuete. He could hear the rain pounding against the stained-glass windows and the roof. His sweaty hands pulled for it, his heart in his throat. He crossed himself, closed his eyes and prayed he was about to do the right thing.



Will Dio Shoot Jennifer?
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  #62  
Old 02-01-2005
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Nice.....

Love the book you sent. How are sales? How is your book doing?
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  #63  
Old 02-01-2005
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Sales are doing great man, a friend of mine who produces films is going to read the book soon (he's even won an Oscar) so cross your fingers. And my agents just emailed me a list of publishers they're sending the book to, also a NYC book vendor who's very successful is going to begin selling the book on the streets of New York and Spanish Harlem very soon. So things are falling into place. I'm very blessed.

And I'm so grateful for all the stuff you and Vero have done to help promote the book as well on SoyChicano.com

Whenever I hear things from people who've read the book, I feel like crying (in a good way) cause that's why I wrote this book to touch people's hearts. Sounds corny but it's true.

Almost ready to begin writing the sequel ...

Jeff
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  #64  
Old 02-01-2005
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i really want to buy this book..and i will do so when i get some more money which should be soon!! i've looked for it at every bookstore and library..and nothing
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  #65  
Old 02-01-2005
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Dedra, did you email me your name and mailing address, if you haven't already I can send you a copy in the mail. You should be able to order it at any Borders or Barnes & Noble too.
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  #66  
Old 02-01-2005
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i should have specified where i looked..lol..i looked at every bookstore and library here where i live..we don't have those 2 stores..sorry..and i am going to order it from u probably here in a lil while..i gotta get some "Mula" first..lol
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  #67  
Old 02-01-2005
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Thanks sweetheart!
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  #68  
Old 02-03-2005
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looks pretty good.......

I'm gonna order one soon


& much props to you for doing your thing........

you've inspired me to start up my writing even more.......
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  #69  
Old 02-03-2005
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Thanks and go for it, we need more good writers out there! I'm shocked at the lack of Latino, Asian, or Middle Eastern books out there. Where are all the great writers!! We need to publish our work ourselves if need be.

I did and I was able to get a really good literary agent after I had done so. And you can order my book at the Barnes & Noble or Borders too. It can be done.

There is a God and he does help you if you do your part....
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  #70  
Old 02-04-2005
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Good job on getting your work published and noticed.

Maybe someday I'll get my shit together and finish my novel.
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  #71  
Old 02-04-2005
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Thanks man! Yeah, go for it, like I keep saying we need more voices out there.

Jeff
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  #72  
Old 02-06-2005
Cuauhtlizin Cuauhtlizin is offline
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Default "FOREVER MY LADY" AWESOME and INTRIGUEING...

Hey Jeff,

Oye ese, I bought the book and I tell ya ese, it took me back in time I am 60 years old ese, but this Novela made my feel young again.. And hey, this could be a Novela of every Mejicano(a) / Chicano(a) it felt for realz ese, no kidding, I experienced the 50s and late 80s and this event sure got me on that time machine ese...

If you all in here haven't read it, hey, your missing a tremendous book...It is worth the money...

*Excuse the typos* I am the Typo King, jaja...


Jeff, laterz bro, and keep up the good work and write some ese..

The guy from Ohio...

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  #73  
Old 02-06-2005
Cuauhtlizin Cuauhtlizin is offline
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Join Date: Feb 2005
Posts: 2
Default Got The Book...

Hola Jeff,

I am posting from OHIO, I got the book, and it is GREAT !!

Congrads ese...

And hey, we were juveniles at one time and experienced what DIO did in this extraordinary Novela... And now I am 60 yrs. old ese, I resembled those remarks in that book, jejeje

The Man form Ohio...

Good work ese...

Don't 4 get the tip man, jejejeje...*just kidding*


Laterz...
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  #74  
Old 02-06-2005
cHiCaNa_ChEvY_RiDaH's Avatar
cHiCaNa_ChEvY_RiDaH cHiCaNa_ChEvY_RiDaH is offline
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Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: Somewhere, where it takes the Cubanos only 90 miles to swim..
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ive been waiting so long for you book to come out...
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  #75  
Old 02-06-2005
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jeffrivera jeffrivera is offline
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Join Date: Sep 2004
Posts: 278
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Thanks Sweetheart! The books out and you can order a copy at any Barnes & Noble, or directly from me by going to: http://www.JeffRivera.com

Jeff
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Forever My Lady: A Chicano-Themed Novel
http://www.ForeverMyLady.com
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