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Yamon Wear by Peter Giscombe

4/27/2018

Summer is around the corner and the ladies OF YAMON WEAR, Shanice, Ttoyz and Lorena are bringing the sizzle to Demedrius Charles Production.

An island boy with a big dream, Peter Giscombe is determine to make a name for himself in the Swimwear and Lingerie industry. Giscombe, who is from the tropical isle of Jamaica, has been on the fashion scene in retail but had this burning desire to create and boy, did he.
DCP:
Peter, first of all, congratulations on a sexy swim and lingerie collection. DCP would like to know, what was the inspiration behind your 2017 collection?
PG:
I was inspired by life and the fact that God gave me this talent that I am determine to use.
DCP
What are we to expect in 2018?
PG
A mind blowing line that will put Yamon Wear on the map. And to bring to life my second passion, music which I am in the process of producing right now
DCP
How would you describe your 2017 collection
PG
Sexy, provocative and affordable
DCP
How can our readers purchase your pieces
PG
https://www.yamonwearnyc.com

The very best to you on your endeavors and thank you for talking to DCP

Photographers
Hank Pegeron
Curtis Taitt

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The Awakening ... I have a voice Pt 1

4/18/2018

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Keturah.C brings to Demedrius Charles Productions the survival of a courageous woman after years of Domestic violence from a man who was suppose to love her.

Written by
Keturah.C
For Demedrius Charles Productions

He grabs her hair and shoves her onto the bed. He descends on her with a fury she has never experienced before, his fists pounding her body into submission. She struggles to break free but he pins her down with his legs. She can hear the cries of anguish escaping from her as he drives his point home with every lethal blow. She can taste the blood oozing from her bloodied mouth. Her body feels numb. She is dazed and in complete shock.
He picks up her now tattered body and flings her onto the floor like a rag doll tossed aside by an angry toddler. She is doubled over shrieking with pain. She tries to scramble her way to the door but he sees her and lunges at her. He revisits her with a renewed anger, only this time, his boots making acquaintance with her head. The room starts to spin as around her gets darker and darker. She hears the fading screams, a faint banging on the door and then…. Silence!
I awoke in bed with a sudden jolt, my breathing heavy and rapid, my p j’ s drenched with sweat. The room was pitch dark and felt cold and clammy. I struggled to recollect my thoughts but everything seemed hazy. Was it a dream? I clutched my now throbbing head and tried to make sense of what had happened. Then slowly, painfully everything began to take shape and then it struck me like a bolt of lightning cutting through the still dark night. The tears came fast and furious flowing freely down my face. If only it had been a dream I could have lived with that.

But here I was once again reliving the painful memory of my first physical encounter with my husband. A memory etched in my mind for years. A memory that has kept me shackled and forbids me from embracing happiness. Yes, that night, and the first of many more to come, I had been beaten mercilessly by the man whom I vowed to love, honor and obey. My husband, whom I once admired and held in such high regard.
I curled up on my bed in a fetal position, the tears coming uncontrollably at this point, my pillow quickly becoming a sponge that soaked up my tears. I wanted to scream, I wanted to escape from my prison of mental anguish. How and when did my life get like this? Where did I go wrong?
My mind wandered back to the good old days when we first met. Life was new and exciting then. At a tender age of 23, I was in my final year at the university pursuing a degree in a teaching profession - my passion. I had a lot of hopes and dreams back then, my whole life lay ahead of me – the possibilities endless. I was young, naïve and susceptible. That day we met, I had just come from visiting with a friend, and was walking leisurely down the road. There was not a cloud in the sky, giving the sun home against a brilliant canvas of cerulean blue. As I walked on, a white Toyota Camry pulled alongside me. The window was up so I couldn’t immediately see who was on the inside. I was about to continue walking when suddenly the car door swung open and out came one of the most attractive men I had ever come across. He called out to me with a voice of authority which slightly irritated me, but my annoyance was quickly replaced by a faint fluttering in my stomach when a coy smile played around the edges of his lips revealing a very pronounced spaced tooth. I peered at him with a questioning look on my face all sorts of questions swirling around in my head. He motioned for me to come closer but I stood grounded. My heart was racing not out of fear but because of the strong pull I felt towards him simply because…. he was one of them.

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Yamon Wear by Peter Giscombe

The Awakening ... I have a voice Pt 1

The Incredible Mr. Oscar Restrepo

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