Forget those ghetto divas of gritty, urban street-lit that engage their readers seducing dope boys and white collar types out of all their money; and those bible-thumping prudes of Christian fiction, bugging God for Mr. Right because they can’t convince themselves that Jesus is all the man they need. Say hello to Ericka Middleton, a fairly stable, self-sufficient woman with both a ‘Mr. Right’ AND a boyfriend who hasn’t quite mastered the art of walking on water well enough to suit her.


Ericka is a thirty-year-old single mom with dreams of having more of a commitment from long-time apathetic boyfriend, Maurice, who seems content with the way things are between them. Her married, platonic friend, Desmond acts as a harmless surrogate in Maurice’s absence; unless you count those steamy dreams that jerk her out of a dead sleep every night. Against her friends’ advice and her own better judgment, Ericka refuses to let go of either man until tragedy forces her to face some harsh realities and start making decisions based on what she wants rather than the desires of other people.


“…and then I woke up.” is a story of self-realization that teaches us sometimes there is much to gain in leaving things behind.