J'son M. Lee is the Owner & President of Sweet Georgia Press, a multi-dynamic publishing and editing firm based in Baltimore, MD. He was born in Lewiston, NC, and resides in Baltimore, MD, where he enjoys a fulfilling, yet busy life that includes managing commercial properties, writing books, editing, food and entertainment, and spending time with loved ones.

            Lee is a graduate of the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, earning a degree in Speech Communication with a concentration in Performance Studies. He is a multiple award-winning author who creates works that challenge the notion of normalcy. Most recently he was named 2013 Author of the Year by SGL BOOKLOVERS magazine. With his pen, he seeks to broaden minds and reinforce the universality of love. With wit and a gift for narrative, he creates characters that will speak to your heart.

            His works include Just Tryin' To Be Loved, How Could My Husband Be GAY?, the "Friends or Lovers" short story series (Best Friends, More Than Friends and Can't Be Friends), love One (short story), and One Family's AIDS (short story).

           Lee is also a writer and celebrity interviewer at Proud Times Magazine in Spokane, WA, and host of a monthly BlogTalkRadio show, A Different Kind Of Love.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

Julia, to be honest, I never set out to be a writer.  I’m artistic by nature, and I’ve always had a gift for words.  I remember an assignment in my high school typing class.  Mrs. Vick asked each of us to create and type a resume (none of us had any job experience, so we had to use our imagination).  She would then choose the person she would hire.  Well, I won the challenge for the imaginary job.  That’s when I knew I had a gift for writing. 
When my first short story was published by Painted Leaf Press, I thought my submission being accepted was normal.  At that time, I still didn’t think I had anything special.  For me, it was just something that I put my mind to and achieved.  Even after publishing my first full length novel, I didn’t consider myself a writer.  It wasn’t until I looked up the word one day in the dictionary that I embraced it.  I’m not an insecure person, but it was hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I was a paid writer. 
This past weekend my fiancé and I were changing some things around at the house.  He asked me to bring some of my books down from the office and put them on the new bookshelves we got for the dining room.  It felt a little awkward seeing my work on the shelf.  He asked why I downplayed my accomplishment, and commented that he brags about me being a writer every chance he gets.  That really stuck with me.
I’m a writer.  I’ve always been a writer.  I’ve always created stories.  I’ve always been asked to read other’s words and make them pretty.  Yes, I’ve always been a writer. 

How long does it take you to write a book?

I never put a deadline on myself when I write.  That simply doesn’t work for me.  I’m not one of those authors who can crank out book after book.  I have to be inspired by a story or a character.  I have to feel their story will benefit others.  That’s the only time I’ll write.  Some may say I lack discipline, but I don’t believe in putting pressure on myself in that way when it comes to writing.  I’ve always believed the story will come in the right time.  That’s why there are sometimes years between projects.  I have to believe in a story or a character enough to sacrifice my time and energy.  When they give me the material, I’ll do my part.  Writing is as much for me as it is for my readers.

 What is your work schedule like when you're writing?

My work schedule in general is very hectic.  I have a lot of irons in the fire with my full time job in real estate, my editing business, reviewing books, and writing.  I’m not sure how I fit it all in, but it’s a balancing act for sure.  My full time job pays the bills, so that has been my top priority as it relates to my work schedule.  My editing clients are my second priority.  This venture has taken on a mind of its own in that not only am I editing, but I’m now finding myself doing consulting work, with two clients on retainer.  I am extremely careful with whom I accept as a client.  That’s the beauty of having your own business.  Unfortunately, I have to turn down work.  I do this as a means of sticking to my calendar so I can deliver quality work, and on time.  That leaves very little time for writing.  I jot down ideas and paragraphs as time allows.

What is your latest release and what's next?

Here is an unedited excerpt from my current work in progress entitled Bully.

Samuel and Olivia Parker met when they were eighteen and twenty-two, respectively.  From the very beginning their relationship was volatile, but Olivia loved him more than life itself.  When he asked for her hand in marriage, Olivia jumped at the opportunity.  She couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Olivia Parker.
They were young, and couldn’t afford a big wedding.  Instead, they were married by a JP.  For the first few years, things were good.  When Olivia announced she was pregnant, Samuel was less than thrilled.  He grew more and more distant as she began to show.  Olivia was sure he’d perk up when he saw their son for the first time, but things actually got worse.

Winston was a beautiful baby, and the apple of his mother’s eye.  Samuel resented the attention she gave him.  As a result, he began to distance himself, and would often sit in the basement and drink himself into a stupor.  Over time, his drinking escalated to fits of rage.  His wife and son were often the unwitting targets, often hit for the smallest things. 

Olivia mustered the courage to leave Samuel after a brutal attack that would change their lives forever.  Winston was seven at the time.  It was a Friday around 1:00AM—payday.  Samuel always got good and liquored up on payday. 

Olivia could hear Samuel knocking things over as he staggered throughout the house.  Samuel knew she never cooked on Fridays, but he wanted a hot meal. She could hear him mumbling as he continued to slam doors and cabinets.   He wouldn’t stop until he had awakened everyone in the house.

“Bitch, I don’t want no cold ass pizza!  Get in here and cook me some food!”  He continued to yell obscenities until Olivia had no choice but to acknowledge him.  Olivia emerged from the bedroom barefoot, and wearing a pink quilted housecoat.  As she suspected, Samuel reeked of alcohol.  

“Sam, it’s late.  You’re drunk.  Just come to bed,” she said, regretting the words as they spilled from her lips.  Samuel didn’t tolerate any backtalk from his woman or his son.  He slapped Olivia with a force so strong that she fell back onto the dining room table.  Samuel charged her and ripped her housecoat open revealing her naked body.  Olivia knew not to resist.  She’d gone through this too many times.  She knew that look in his eyes—that look of rage, coupled with lust.  She knew she was about to get raped—again.  Samuel had no problem taking what he felt he rightfully deserved.  After all, she was his wife.  Olivia lay there with tears brimming her eyes as Samuel forced himself inside her.  The pain became too intense, and she cried a liquid prayer.  She closed her eyes, hoping to escape the pain.  She willed her mind to take her far away, but it didn’t work.  The pain was too unbearable.  After a few moments, she opened her eyes, and tried to focus.  She noticed her son watching from the hallway.  Winston stood motionless with tears streaming down his face.

“Sam, please stop.  Your son is watching you.”  Olivia pleaded with her husband.

“He needs to watch, bitch!  Maybe it will man his little faggot ass up.  He hangs around you too much as it is.  You got him switching around here acting like a punk.

“But Sam…”

“But Sam nothing!”  He slapped Olivia again, silencing her before she could complete her thought.  He pumped inside her harder.  Beads of sweat pooled on his forehead.  He let out a howl and his body grew limp.  He pulled out and kissed her breasts.  Olivia looked at him with fear and disgust. 

“You just get me so worked up, baby.  You know I love you, right?  Go clean up and make me something to eat.  I’m hungry.”

Olivia climbed down from the dining room table and closed her housecoat.  Winston stood still in the corner.  She grabbed him by the hand and led him back to his room.  Olivia wiped his tears with her housecoat.

“It’s okay, baby.  Mommy’s okay.”  She tried to muster a smile.

“Bitch, didn’t I tell you to stop babying that boy?  Put his ass in bed and come make me some food!  Shit!”

Tucked away in his bed, Winston replayed the sequence of events in his head.  He wanted to help his mother, but his father was too big.  His father was a bully, and Winston felt helpless.  When I get big, I’m going to make sure no one hurts me or my mommy…

To learn more about me and/or my works, please visit my website at  I’m also on Facebook  If someone is seeking an editor or editing advice, please check me out at    

Post a Comment


  1. I read the excerpt just now and it made me want to read the book. I have read Mr. Lee previously and I am always impressed.

    1. Thank you so much for taking the time to read, and comment. Your name has just been entered in the contest :-)

    2. Congratulations! Please send the email address you log onto amazon with to

  2. Powerful excerpt. It is very much relevant to reality. Thank you for sharing.

  3. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and comment, Ollie :-) your name has just been entered into the contest!

  4. Congratulations! Please send the email address you log onto amazon with to