Chapter 1 - Back in the Roots
Blues Landing: Second Time Sweeter
Chapter 1 – Back in the Roots
Blues Landing: Second Time Sweeter
Blues Landing Weekly – Issue 1
Hey y’all—welcome back.
Whether this is your first visit or you’re already rocking on the porch with Aunt Geneva, I’m glad you’re here. This week, we’re stepping into the story of Imani Brooks—heartbroken, stylish, and a little fed up—as she returns to a town she barely remembers... but might just need.
Previously on Blues Landing Weekly...
We met Imani, a successful interior designer from Atlanta, licking her wounds after a public breakup and professional fallout. She’s heading to Blues Landing, South Carolina, to redesign a luxury suite at Salt & Grace Resort—and maybe hide out for a bit.
But what she doesn’t know? Blues Landing has its own plans for her heart.
This Week: Chapter 1 – “Back in the Roots”
Imani’s first impressions of Blues Landing are… complicated.
She’s greeted by her sharp-tongued great-aunt Geneva, introduced to the sleepy charm (and nosy locals) of the town, and gets a taste of the slower pace she’ll have to learn to live with. But beneath the sweet tea and silence, there's something else tugging at her: familiarity. Maybe even home.
A flat tire is about to change everything—but that’s next week.
Excerpt: “This place smells like magnolias and memories,” Imani muttered, dragging her suitcase up the narrow staircase. “And I don’t want none of either.”
Chapter One – Back in the Roots
The heat hit different in Blues Landing.
It wasn’t just the sun—it was the weight of the air, thick with salt, jasmine, and the kind of stories that never made it past the front porch.
Imani Brooks cracked the window of her rental car as she eased past a crooked *Welcome to Blues Landing* sign, its hand-painted letters curling slightly from years of salty breezes. Spanish moss hung from the trees like nature’s lace, swaying lazily over the narrow road that hugged the coast.
She exhaled slowly, gripping the leather-wrapped steering wheel a little tighter.
“What am I doing here?” she muttered to herself.
Aunt Geneva had insisted she come.
“You need to sit down somewhere and remember who you are, baby. Let this little town do what Atlanta couldn’t.”
After the disaster with her last high-profile client and a fiancé who dipped out with a woman half his age and zero taste, Imani needed somewhere to disappear. Somewhere to regroup. And maybe—just maybe—somewhere folks didn’t whisper about her over overpriced brunch with fresh acrylics tapping at mimosas.
She followed Geneva’s directions down a shaded coastal road until the familiar storefront appeared.
_Between the Pages_sat like a warm, open-armed hug at the edge of the historic district. Old brick, black shutters, and a wraparound porch with wicker chairs made it look like something out of a Southern daydream.
She parked and stepped out, the breeze tossing her curls just enough to remind her she wasn’t in Buckhead anymore. Gold-rimmed sunglasses slid down her nose as she took in the sight. Wisteria vines, fresh coffee in the air, the quiet buzz of crickets over jazz.
On the porch, Aunt Geneva stood like she'd been waiting all day—hand on her hip, wide grin spreading across her honey-brown face. Her silver locs were wrapped in a vibrant scarf, and her dress danced in the wind like it had its own soul.
“Imani Camille Brooks,” she called, voice ringing sweet as peach tea. “Get up here and hug my neck!”
Imani couldn’t help but laugh as she climbed the steps into her aunt’s arms.
Familiar warmth. Lemongrass oil. Cinnamon tea. And underneath it all—the peace she hadn’t known she needed.
“Look at you,” Geneva said, pulling back. “All dressed up like Vogue meets Voodoo. Ain’t nobody here to impress, sugar. Well… 'cept maybe that man two doors down who still cuts his grass shirtless.”
Imani rolled her eyes. “Already?”
“Chile, it’s Blues Landing. You better get used to it.”
She followed Geneva inside. The café hadn’t changed—sunlight across hardwood floors, wall-to-wall bookshelves curated with Black authors, and the smell of cinnamon rolls and roasted coffee thick in the air.
“You’ll be upstairs,” Geneva said, already leading her to the back stairwell. “The loft’s simple but sweet. Just like this town.”
The creaky stairs gave way to a skylit room filled with charm—exposed beams, a plush bed, and a reading nook with a view of the water. Imani turned in the middle of the space, suitcase forgotten, allowing the quiet to settle in.
No deadlines. No disasters. No demands.
Just salt air and space to breathe.
Downstairs, her aunt had already set out a glass of sweet tea and a plate of pecan pralines.
“Eat, rest, and don’t overthink,” Geneva said, sliding into a chair beside her. “Tomorrow, go see that suite they want you to redesign over at Salt & Grace. But tonight, just let the Landing hold you a while.”
Imani sipped the tea, letting the sugar hit like medicine. “You really think I belong here, Auntie?”
Geneva’s smile didn’t waver. “I think this town’s got something to show you. Maybe even someone.”
Imani arched a brow. “Don’t start matchmaking. I’m in the middle of a man detox.”
“Sugar, sometimes it ain’t about findin’ a man. Sometimes it’s about findin’ your way back to yourself.”
Geneva stood, smoothing her scarf with practiced grace. Then she paused at the kitchen doorway, casting one last look over her shoulder.
“But just in case… wear something pretty tomorrow. You never know who you might run into in Blues Landing.”
Southern Slow Burn, Delivered Weekly
Every issue brings a new chapter, a little soul, and a lot of story.
Next week, we meet Malik “Brick” Thompson, former NFL star turned hometown legend… and the man fate throws in Imani’s path—literally.
What do you think of Imani so far? Have you ever gone back to a place that felt too small for the person you’ve become?
See y’all next Sunday,
Titkela
Author of Blues Landing: Second Time Sweeter