Searching With January – The President’s Daughters Read Online ChaShiree M, M.K. Moore

Categories Genre: Alpha Male Tags Authors: ,

Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)


Searching for my bio dad wasn’t going to be easy, but at least I had help. Falling in love wasn’t planned, but I’m so glad I did this.


Searching with January was an easy decision. Falling in love with her was inevitable.

Journey with January to find her father.

This is book one in The President’s Daughter Series by ChasShiree M. & M.K. Moore

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************




“Honey, can you grab the box from the attic labeled ‘Taxes’?”

“Sure, Dad.” Dropping my pencil down on my desk, I walk out of my bedroom and toward the back of the upstairs. Walking down these halls always fills me with a sense of belonging and nostalgia. I grew up in this house as an only child. Our home was filled with laughter, conversation, art and overall fun. It was often just us, the three musketeers but I was never lonely. It's often I meet other only children and they describe feeling lonely and sad. I didn’t experience any of that.

My life was full growing up. Full and wonderful. My parents gave me every advantage and never saw an obstacle. I was in every extracurricular activity you could think of. As a stay-at-home mom my mom was right there on the front line with me. She was the ultimate volleyball mom, a very enthusiastic cheerleading mom and always there for my awards and recognitions. That is until she got sick my senior year.

It started off as nothing, a cold maybe. Then it became a virus that wouldn’t leave and left her with fatigue. We tried vitamins, doctors took tests, nothing. Then one day I found her unconscious on her bed and that is when we hit with the bid ‘L’. You guessed it, Lupus. We didn’t see it coming but it was sure ready for us.

The first six months were optimistic. They did all the treatments and determined she would need a kidney transplant. I was not a match, and neither was my father. As an only child herself my mother had no siblings to type match and her parents had long since passed. So there we were at the proverbial crossroads.

Then one year after the diagnosis she fell into a coma and my life as I knew it was over. For two more years my dad kept her on the machines hoping for a miracle, but it never came. A year ago he finally signed the forms to unplug the machines and then my heart stopped. We stood there in that hospital room, holding one another and crying as the heart of our family perished.

I didn’t go back to college after that. I stayed home to grieve and help my father grieve. I did school online. This is the last semester of that arrangement. My father has been waiting for me to get back to my life and I think I am ready, maybe.

I pull the string leading to the ladder of the attic and wait for it to unfold. “I hate climbing this thing.” I grumble when it shakes. I reach the top and the first box says ‘Taxes’. Lifting, I turn to go back down when a box in my mom’s handwriting catches my attention. I put the box down and sit on the ground. Opening the lid to the other box, I recognize some of the items in it as my mom’s jewelry box and another box I have seen under her side of the bed. “Oh mama. I miss you so much.” I whisper, allowing a tear to fall and running my hand over her jewelry box.

I pull it to my chest so it can come down with me and a piece of paper drops to my lap. Picking it up I open it and at first I am not sure what I am looking at.

Miss Holloway,

We are writing to you to ask if you would like to be one of our success stories. It was our extreme pleasure to be able to help you achieve your goal of becoming a single mom and we want other women to know they have the choice as well.

If you would like to be a part of our story, please complete and return the form below to this email as a response. If not, we continue to wish you the best of luck in your motherhood journey.


The NCL Sperm Bank

My eyes zero in on the word ‘sperm bank’ and I feel bile growing up in my throat. Did my mom have another baby? Do I have a brother or sister out there? Hell bent on answers, I grab both boxes and leave the attic.

When I make it into the kitchen, I slam the paper down on the counter and look at my father. “I have a brother or sister out there?” I know I shouldn't be so accusatory but raw emotions are flowing through me right now. My father picks up the paper and then his entire body tenses. He swallows a few times and I know he is purposely not looking at me. “Dad.” He takes a deep breath before answering me.

“No sweetheart. You don’t.” I look at him confused and unbelieving.

“Well that makes no sense. Unless…oh God, I am so stupid. She lost the baby didn’t she? Dad, I'm sorry. I think it was just...”