Sample Sunday: Let Him Cheat In Peace

The following excerpt if from my upcoming book, Gossip Queens, which is scheduled for release December 2, 2017

**Explicit language** 

“Yeah, I know Chyna lies a lot, but I don’t think she is about this. But at this point, I almost don’t even care anymore. But if I do find out he’s fucking some hoe up here, I’ma beat her ass.”

“If you don’t care, why you trying to fight her?” Shonda smirked.

“Because it’s trifling as hell, that’s why. Everybody up here knows I’m with Dre.”

Shonda gave another nonchalant shrug. “True, but if you ask me, it’s stupid fighting over a nigga who you already know is cheating on you every chance he gets. You let him do it, so why get mad? Let that man cheat in peace, hell.”

“Excuse me?! Cheat in peace? What you mean by that?” Brittany looked at Shonda as if she hadn’t heard her correctly.

“I was watching this reality show the other night and this group of ladies were talking about checking your man’s phone and all that if you think he’s cheating and one of them said something like ‘unless you’re going to kick his ass to the curb there’s no point in getting mad, because you’re apparently comfortable with being cheated on; so stop bothering him, checking his phone, and Facebook stalking and trying to fight other bitches over him, ‘cause you ain’t going no damn where anyway.’”

“I said I was getting tired of Dre cheating on me.”

“That’s what your mouth said, but what did you do when you walked in your apartment the other day and he was laid up with another chick? Or how about the time you caught him in bed with a bitch and he made you get in bed with them and have a threesome? You didn’t say a damn thing, so it doesn’t sound like you’re too tired,” Shonda said flippantly as she took another sip of Coke. She was sick and tired of listening to Brittany bitching about Dre.

“What’s with your attitude?” Brittany asked defensively. “You’re being extra rude right now.”

“I’m not being rude, I’m being real. Dre does that shit to you because he knows you’re weak and he can get over on you.”

“Oh so now I’m weak? You know what, I’m getting real sick and tired of you getting all slick out the mouth every time I talk to you about Dre. Hell, sometimes you act like you’re fucking him,” Brittany shot back.

“Girl, please,” Shonda scoffed. “You know what, since my mouth is so slick, how about you find someone else to cry to the next time Dre cheats on you, because I’m tired of hearing it,” Shonda said as she stood and gathered her belongings. “You really are a weak bitch,” she spat as she exited the break room.

***

Shonda

Shonda knew she was being unnecessarily rude to Brittany, but the girl got on her last damn nerve and hearing that Dre had been busted with another girl only made her attitude worse. She should have just went ahead and admitted to Brittany that she was fucking Dre, but Brittany just might have been crazy enough to try and fight her and she wasn’t trying to lose her job, especially over some dick.

And besides, Shonda wasn’t in any position to be fighting anyway. She had been throwing up a lot lately, having to use the bathroom a lot more frequently, and she’d been eating more than usual…all signs of pregnancy. It wasn’t until she missed her period a month ago that she decided to take a pregnancy test. As expected, the two lines that appeared on the stick confirmed that she was pregnant.

Shonda knew the baby was Dre’s because he was the only man she let hit it raw even though she’d been sleeping with two other guys on the regular. Hearing that Brittany was also pregnant bothered her at first until Brittany said she wasn’t planning on keeping the baby, and Shonda hoped she wouldn’t. If Brittany had Dre’s baby, Shonda would never get Dre to leave Brittany. Despite the fact that Dre cheated on Brittany and beat her ass on the regular, Shonda knew he had strong feelings for Brittany…he’d told her so last week when she demanded Dre leave Brittany for her for the twentieth time.

“Man, Brittany is good people, yo, and I can’t up and leave her,” Dre had said as they lay in her bed smoking a blunt after they’d finished fucking.

“Why not?” Shonda snapped.

“I just said she good people.”

“And?! That’s the only reason why you staying…because she good people?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know I ain’t got my shit together right now, but if I was ever going settle down, it would be with her. She’s my ride-or-die for real.”

“And what the fuck am I?”

“Yo, you better watch that mouth. And what’s up with the attitude?”

“You laying in my bed after you just finished getting your dick wet talking about settling down with another bitch, that’s why I got an attitude.”

Dre shrugged his shoulder’s. “You asked.”

“Well if she your ride-or-die, why you over here?”

“Cause I wanna be, now stop asking dumb questions and go get a nigga something to eat. I got the munchies like a mug.”

Shonda had started to tell him to go fuck himself, but she also didn’t want Dre to leave. It pissed her off to know that Dre really loved Brittany, but she was determined to change all that. Shonda had yet to tell Dre that she was pregnant but she was going to tell him soon. She only hoped Brittany went ahead and got rid of her baby like she said she would. Her and Dre’s future depended on it.

 

Sample Sunday: Excerpt from Extracurricular Activity

Click link to #preorder  now on #Kindle

https://www.amazon.com/Extracurricular-Activity-J-L-Sapphire-ebook/dp/B06Y13148C

 

A Mistress’s Karma:

The next night when Walter came to my place after work, he promptly wanted to go take a shower. I usually met him at the door, ready to sex his stress away, but he told me that he was too tired…that he just wanted to take a shower and go to sleep.

“Okay, I’ll come with you; it’s been a long time since we made love in the shower,” I said seductively while walking over to him and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Nah, I’m really not in the mood for that tonight.”

“Hell, lately, you’re never in the mood,” I snapped, angry and embarrassed that he’d rejected me, even as I stood there damn near naked in a new black bra and panty set from Victoria’s secret, complete with thigh high stockings and a pair of peep toe stilettos.

Rather than answer me, Walter simply began removing his keys and wallet from his pants pockets and set them on the dresser, as if I hadn’t said a word.

“You’re cheating on me, aren’t you?”

Walter gave me a look- one that suggested that I was getting on his nerves- but he still didn’t answer my question.

“Let me smell your dick,” I demanded.

That bastard actually laughed when I said that.

“Oh, you think I’m playing?!” I dropped to my knees and began trying to unzip his pants, so I could pull his dick out. Walter tried to back away from me and he even pushed my head away, but I was determined. I reached for his crotch area again and despite his resistance, I managed to pull his penis out of his boxer briefs. I began sniffing it, trying to see if I could detect any signs of Walter’s infidelity. Usually, Walter’s dick smelled like a manly combination of sweat, slight must, and baby powder, but I swore I detected the distinct semen-mixed-with-vagina-after-sex, smell.

“Carmyn, stop it. You’re acting like a crazy person. Better yet, you’re acting like my damn wife,” Walter yelled, pushing me away from him again, this time so hard that I fell backwards on my ass. He looked down at me with disgust and contempt written on his face, then he shook his head and started towards the bathroom.

“Newsflash, I am your wife,” I yelled, holding up my left hand, showing him the silver wedding band he’d bought for me.

“I meant my other wife. Both of y’all bitches are silly as hell.”

“I know you didn’t just call me a bitch?!”

“Look, I’m tired and sleepy. I’m going to take a shower. I refuse to engage in this bullshit with you tonight. If you can’t trust me, then get your stuff and move the fuck on. I don’t need this shit.” And with that, Walter strolled into the adjoining bathroom and slammed the door closed behind him.

I plopped down on the bed and pouted. I thought about just going into the bathroom and getting in the shower with him anyway, but when I walked over and turned the door knob, it was locked.

“Oh, we’re locking doors now?!” I yelled while beating on the door with my fist.

I continued banging on the door- determined to knock until Walter let me in- until I heard a vibrating noise coming from his pants, which he’d taken off and left on the floor, along with his dress shirt, socks, and shoes. I walked over to see who was calling him, but to my surprise, I was unable to access his phone because he had a pattern lock on it. I tried drawing several different patterns to unlock the phone, but none of them allowed me access.

I was confused as to when and why Walter had put the pattern lock on his phone in the first place because when we got married, he’d told me that he didn’t have any secrets and that I was welcome to have access to his phone anytime. As much as I didn’t want to believe what mama had told me, it did seem to me that Walter was keeping secrets from me, and since I know all about Ramona, I knew that whoever had him acting all secretive these days wasn’t her.

When I heard the water turn off in the bathroom, I quickly put the phone back in his pocket, got in the bed, and pretended as if I’d been channel surfing when he walked back into the bedroom.

Walter took his phone out of his pants pocket before he got in the bed. I tried to peek out the corner of my eye as he quickly drew a pattern to unlock the screen on his phone, but he did it too fast for me to see. He set the alarm on his phone, then put it on the nightstand and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, as if nothing had happened, before he turned onto his side and went to sleep.

I don’t want a damn peck on the cheek, I wanted your lips on my clit, I mumbled under my breath, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen, so I turned over and took my ass to sleep.

Sample Sunday: Woman to Woman

Excerpt from Extracurricular Activity  **Coming Soon. Oh, and don’t get too excited while reading this because my characters  have a tendency to change their minds and who knows what might happen between now and publication. This is subject to change, but for now, enjoy!**

Not wanting to accept that she’d meant absolutely nothing to Kevin, she picked up her cell phone and called him. When the call connected, she was happy that he wasn’t still ignoring her, however, her happiness was short-lived. “Hello?” A female voice answered the phone, and it sounded like the same female that had came to the door earlier.

Joi hadn’t expected for a woman to answer the phone. Caught off guard, she hung up. Not even a minute later, her cell phone rang. Seeing Kevin’s number, she quickly answered, thinking it was him calling her.

“Hello?”

“Joi, this is Natasha, Kevin’s girlfriend. And I know that was you who just called and hung up. Kevin has told me all about you. I know you two used to date or whatever, and I also know y’all slept together a few weeks ago, but we’re back together. He’s my man now, so you might as well stop calling him. I’m pregnant with his baby and we’re going to get married, so don’t waste your time, okay.”

Who the hell does this chick think she is? “I’ll stop calling when Kevin tells me not to call him again. Now, can I speak to him, please?”

Natasha laughed. “Sweetheart, you were just a rebound…something to do while we were working on our issues. Accept that and move on. And Kevin is lying right here beside me, rubbing my belly and singing to his baby. Get a life and stop calling, because he won’t answer.” And with that, she hung up the phone in Joi’s face.

Joi sat numbly on the bed, completely shell-shocked after the phone call- which had a Hello-Barbara-this-is-Shirley vibe to it- ended. In all of their conversations, Kevin had never mentioned a girlfriend, let alone the fact that he was about to become a father. And marriage? He’d just told her that he wasn’t ready to settle down with anybody. Had Natasha said that just to throw her off? Or could it be that the Kevin she’d once dated was a different man. It had been close to ten years since they’d last been together, but she couldn’t imagine that he’d change for the worse. While he’d always been a flirt, he was faithful to her when they had dated, and he always cared about her feelings. Now, he was acting all cold towards her-nothing at all like the guy who’d showered her with compliments and praise two weeks ago.

Joi laid in bed and thought back over every aspect of her conversations with Kevin, trying to remember if she had somehow missed something he’d said that would show her that he was the heartless guy he’d shown himself to be earlier. Nothing came to mind. As usual, Kevin had made her feel special, beautiful, and desirable. He’d made her laugh and smile more than Richard ever had. And despite the amount of time that had passed, she could still be herself around him. They had such an undeniable chemistry and it hurt her to even think that all of that had been fake.

Joi had been dumped before, but she’d never had a man curve her to the left as hard as Kevin had. They hadn’t even been dating, yet she felt like she’d just broken up with the love of her life. Tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered how Kevin had acted towards her when she’d gone to his house. His ignoring her had been bad enough, but hearing Natasha say that she was pregnant by him was like pouring salt on an already open wound. And the coup de gras happened when Kevin coolly closed the door in her face, completely dismissing her and her feelings. She had never been punched in the gut before, but now she knew what it must feel like, and it hurt like hell.

Before she knew it, Joi was seriously balling her eyes out. She felt stupid for crying over a man who wasn’t her husband and who she’d only slept with one time in ten years, but maybe that was because somewhere in her subconscious, she realized that she had deeper feelings for Kevin than she thought she had. That was the only logical explanation as to why she was so hurt by his actions.

While she had herself to blame for falling for Kevin so fast, he knew when he’d pursued her that he had no intentions of actually staying in her life. If all he’d wanted was sex, he should have just been upfront about that from the beginning and left all of the talk about making her his girl if she wasn’t married talk out of it. They were both grown and there was no need to play childish games, then ignore afterwards her like some immature, wannabe player.

Soon, Joi’s hurt turned to anger. Who the hell did Kevin think he was to treat her like that? She thought about calling Kevin again to go off on him, but knowing that Natasha was at his house stopped her. As mad as she was, she was a married woman, and it wouldn’t be a good look for her to get into a fight with another woman over a man who wasn’t her husband. She had no choice but to wash her hands of Kevin and move on.

Sample Sunday: High Definition Rendezvous

**Coming soon…sample may change before publication**

Shanice

“I’m coming,” I yelled as I tripped over a box while trying to run to the front door. I pulled the door open and found myself staring into a pair of hazel eyes. Damn, I thought to myself. The cable guy is kind of fine. 

“Good morning, ma’am. Are you Shanice Cannon?” hazel eyes asked.

“Y-yes,” I said once I was able to speak. I glanced at his name badge. His name was Eddie and he was with the satellite television company. My husband, Quinton, and I had just moved into town two weeks earlier, and being the t.v. junkie that I was, the very first thing I did was call the company so I could have my television service.

Quinton was an emergency room doctor and he often worked long and late hours, leaving me at home to entertain myself. We didn’t have any children yet, although we had been trying to have one. I had my own business as a photographer, but when I wasn’t taking family, baby, and wedding photos, I was often home…alone…with nothing but the television to keep me company.

“I’m Edward Harris, but mostly everyone calls me Eddie. I’m here to install your satellite dishes and connect your service.” He looked down at the clipboard he was carrying. “It says here that you’ll be getting two receivers- one in the living room and one in the bedroom?”

I shook my head. “Umm, yes; that’s correct.”

“Perfect. I’ll do what I need to do outside first, then I’ll come inside and work my magic. That cool?”

My eyes did a quick scan up and down Eddie’s body. I’ll bet you can work some magic. I tried, unsuccessfully, not to notice the bulging biceps peeking from underneath his short sleeved uniform shirt. With his smooth, dark chocolate skin, low cut faded haircut, and goatee, Eddie had all the right ingredients to make any woman suddenly melt quicker than a cube of ice on the sidewalk in the middle of August. Even though it was a cool March morning, a surge of heat suddenly snaked through my body and came to a rest between my thighs.

“That’s fine,” I said. I watched him turn and walk to his van to gather his work equipment. Even in the uniform slacks he was wearing, I could tell that Eddie had a nice, round ass. I mentally tapped myself on the hand and chastised myself for lusting after that man. Lord forgive me, for the sinful thoughts I’m having, I silently prayed as I closed the door.

While Eddie was outside, I went into the living room and began unpacking some of the boxes. I never realized I had so much stuff until it came time to move it. I removed some of my Swarovski crystal figurines from the pieces of newspaper I’d wrapped them in to protect them during the move, and began strategically placing them in the black corner curio cabinet. Quinton had given me a crystal ballerina when we’d first started dating over six years ago, and I have been collecting them ever since.

I had just placed a few figurines in the curio, when the doorbell rang. I ran over to the door and peeked through the peephole. Seeing that it was my fine ass cable guy, I held the door open for him as he carried his equipment in the living room.

“Nice place,” he said looking around.

“Thanks. Maybe it will be once I get everything unpacked.”

I went back to unpacking and tried to distract myself from watching Eddie’s ass and arm muscles as he began his work over by the entertainment system. After I finished carefully arranging the figurines inside the curio cabinet, I set up a ladder and grabbed a hammer so I could hang a round, Herringbone framed mirror over the fireplace mantel. I climbed onto the very top of the ladder and pondered exactly where I wanted it, then marked the spot with a pencil. I had leaned the mirror against the wall and once I knew where I wanted to hang the it, I reached down for the hammer and nails, but noticed the nails were still on the floor. I groaned inwardly, as I realized I would have to climb back down to retrieve them.

Maybe it was a sense of déjà vu from when I fell off of a ladder when I was in art class in the eighth grade in front of everybody-a fall which not only embarrassed the hell out of me, but also resulted in me going to the emergency room with a fractured wrist and a nasty bruise on my forehead from when I hit the floor, or it could have been the fact that I had been having really bad headaches and dizzy spells lately, but whatever the reason, I became light-headed. Before I could steady myself on the top rung of the ladder, I felt myself falling backwards. I squeezed my eyes shut tight in anticipation of hitting the floor, but a pair of strong arms broke my fall before my body slammed into the hard floor.

“Whoa, are you okay?” Eddie asked as he cradled me in his arms, a look of concern on his face.

I was dizzy, but not from the headache. Whatever cologne Eddie was wearing was intoxicating and made me even more lightheaded than I already had been a minute earlier. “Uh…y-yes; I’m okay. I’ve been having dizzy spells lately and I just lost my balance.”

“It’s a good thing I was here to protect you; that fall would have knocked you out cold and given you a concussion for sure.”

Eddie’s face was inches away from mine. Both of us were breathing hard, although I was sure it was for different reasons. “Yep, it’s a good thing you were here; but I’m fine now.”

“Yes, you are,” Eddie said staring into my eyes.

“So…you can put me down now.”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Eddie said setting me down. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked as I stumbled forward a little. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me, as if he was worried that I might fall again.

“Really, I’m fine.”

“Here, why don’t I hang that mirror for you before you break it.”

Eddie climbed the ladder and I handed him the nails. He found the pencil mark I had made, indicating the spot where I wanted it, then he took the nail from me and hung the mirror.

“Thank you,” I said as I stood back and admired his handiwork.

“No problem. So, I’ve got the receiver hooked up in here; if you’ll show me to your bedroom, I can get started in there.”

“Cool. Follow me.”

***

Eddie

I followed Shanice up the staircase. She was a petite little thing, probably no taller than 5’2, but she had curves in all the right places. I watched her ass as she climbed the stairs. I wonder is it’s as soft as it looks.

“It’s right in there,” Shanice said turning around suddenly.

I had been staring at her butt so hard, I walked right into her when she suddenly stopped and turned around. “Oh, sorry. I-I uh…guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

When Shanice smiled at me, I noticed the deep dimples she had in her cheeks. Damn, she’s fine, I thought to myself. Her husband should consider himself one lucky man to get to cuddle up with her fine ass every night.

Shanice unpacked a few boxes while I worked on hooking up the high definition receiver. Regardless of how professional I am, none of my female customers trusted me enough to leave a strange man alone in their bedrooms, and Shanice was no exception. She busied herself with hanging some wall art, while I did my job, or at least I tried to. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes off of her.

“So, what’s Mr. Cannon do?” I asked, making small talk. The silence in the room, as well as the obvious mutual attraction between us, was kind of awkward.

“He’s a doctor at St. Marks Hospital,” she said, looking over her shoulder for a minute.

“Really? Small world; my wife works there too, as an admitting clerk. I wonder if they know each other?”

If I didn’t know any better, I would think that Shanice looked a little upset upon hearing me say I had a wife. I read people well, especially women. The eyes never lied, and she was definitely feeling me. Rather than answer my question, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to hanging pictures on the wall.

“Wow…a doctor, huh?” I said after Shanice ignored my question. “That must be nice.” I looked up at Shanice, who was leaned over removing some items from a box. I admired her perfectly ass. She had an onion booty for sure, and in the tribal print leggings she was wearing, it was real noticeable. She was in the perfect position for me to walk up behind her, pull those leggings down, and slide my dick in between her plump cheeks. You have got to chill your horny ass out, Ed. She’s married and so are you.

“Sometimes. It gets kind of lonely, though,” Shanice said suddenly, snapping me out of my lustful daydream. “Quinton mainly works the emergency room, so he’s gone most of the time. Sometimes, I think he prefers it that way.”

I shook my head in disagreement. “I’m sure you’re imagining things,” I told her. “As sexy as you are, no man in his right mind would want to be away from you for too long.”

Shanice blushed and bit her lower lip nervously. I could tell it had been a long time since a man had given her a compliment. “Thank you.”

We stared at each other for a few intense seconds. She licked her lips nervously again, then looked away. Yeah, she wants me. She couldn’t even look me in the face, for fear that I’d be able to read her mind and know what she was thinking. And no, I’m not cocky or arrogant…well, maybe a little; but this has nothing to do with arrogance, and everything to do with body language.

Watching Shanice flick her tongue across her bottom lip caused the bulge between my legs to swell as the rapid flow of blood shot from the head on my shoulders to the head of my dick, causing me to get a stiff erection. Because several weeks had gone by since I’d had sex with my wife, Jessica, I knew that at least part of the reason why I’d been immediately attracted to Shanice was due to the fact that I was horny as hell.

Jessica worked long hours at the hospital, and I tried to take that into consideration. But lately she never seemed interested in having much to do with me, sexually or otherwise when she was home. Our wedding was only a little over a year ago, and I had hoped that maybe once all the wedding hoopla was over and done with, we could finally rekindle our old flame as we settled into marriage. However, we seemed to be growing further apart, rather than closer as man and wife, and my patience was wearing thin.

“Well, I guess I’m done here,” I said about fifteen minutes later. “You can watch all the high definition television you want now. Do you need me to show you show you all the features on the remote, or you think you can manage?”

“I think I can manage,” she said.

I tried to focus on her face, but her erect nipples pushing through the white t-shirt she was wearing had my full attention at the moment. Before I did something stupid, I removed a business card from my shirt pocket and walked over to hand it to her. My erection was getting bigger, and I didn’t want her to notice it. “Okay well, if you start having any problems with the receivers or just questions in general, feel free to call me on my direct line.”

Shanice took the card from my hand and glanced at it. “I’ll do that,” she said. I followed behind her when she turned and left the room. When we made it to the front door, she held it open for me as I grabbed the rest of my equipment from the living room floor.

“Oh, no more climbing up on ladders,” I told her before I walked outside.

She smiled shyly and nodded her head in agreement. “No more climbing ladders.”

I walked to my truck and got inside, but I didn’t leave right away. Part of me wanted to go back inside and give her exactly what I know she wanted. I saw how she was looking at me. Had I made a move, she wouldn’t have stopped me. The old me would have done just that, but since I was married and a one-woman man now, I simply started my van, and drove off, before I did something I’d regret later.

***

Sample Sunday: Damaged Goods

**Unedited and subject to change**

Desiree-

I sat impatiently across from the psychologist who had been sent in to speak to me and determine if I am competent enough to stand trial in a few weeks and smirked while puffing on a Newport as I watched her vigorously write notes on the legal pad she’d removed from her briefcase.

I silently analyzed the white woman sitting in front of me. Her nervous demeanor, rosy cheeks, black wide-rimmed glasses, and that cheap wool plaid suit she has on makes her the most unlikeliest person to choose to work in a maximum security prison, treating murderers, sexual predators, and white collar criminals for a living.

“So, are we gonna do this or what, Doc? You’ve been writing on that pad for five minutes now, and I’ve got things to do,” I said.

She looked up at me and pushed her glasses higher up on her nose before she spoke. “Exactly what kinds of things am I keeping you from doing, Ms. Robinson?” she asked as a kind, yet slightly condescending smile spread across her face.

Touché, bitch, I thought as I caught the obvious sarcasm in her statement and smirked again. Maybe this nerdy-looking white girl- Dr. Beverly Grayson, her name tag read- isn’t as timid and mousy as I pegged her to be.

“Oh, you know- I’m on kitchen duty so I don’t think the other ladies will appreciate me leaving my share of the work for them to do; I definitely don’t want to miss the one hour they give us to go outside in the actual sunlight and fresh air; and I’d prefer to get the daily sexual abuse I’ve gotten from C.O. Monroe over sooner rather than later. Lord knows I hate when he pulls me out of my cell in the middle of the night while I’m trying to get my beauty rest to give him his routine oral transaction before his shift ends at 6 a.m. and he goes home to his naïve wife and kids. So yeah, I’m booked…and I’ve got more important things to do than sit here and watch you fidgeting with your glasses and writing on that notepad.”

I laughed out loud when Dr. Grayson’s eyes widened in horror after I finished answering her question.

“Is that really happening to you in here?”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, this is prison, not Disneyland. If you think what I just said is shocking, you really wouldn’t be able to handle the other stories I could tell you, that’s for sure.”

She nervously cleared her throat and scribbled something else on her notepad before looking up at me again. “So, where do you want to start, Ms. Robinson?”

“No need to be so formal…you can call me Desiree; and you’re the professional, so you tell me. I’ve never talked to a head doctor before, so this is kind of new to me.”

“Okay, then; I’ll ask questions and you answer them.”

“Cool. So, what’s your first question?”

“Where were you raised? Did you grow up with both parents?”

I reached for my cancer stick and took a couple of puffs before I laughed and shook my head. “Come on, Doc; that’s not what you really wanna ask me. You want to know the juicy stuff…like what in the world would drive an eighteen year old girl to murder four men, right?”

Dr. Grayson cleared her throat again and looked down at her notes briefly, then back up at me again. “Well, yes; we’ll get to that…eventually. I thought you might want to discuss some of your history first, so I can get a better understanding of what led you to…do what you did.”

I smirked and rolled my eyes at the fact that she appeared to be reluctant and uncomfortable with saying the word, murder. I shrugged my shoulders. “Like I said, you’re the professional.”

“Okay, then. Where were you raised? Did you grow up with both parents?” she asked again.

I sighed heavily, ready to get this over with. “I was born and raised in Athens, Georgia. And no, I didn’t grow up with both parents in my life. As a matter of fact, neither one of my parents wanted me. My biological sperm donor dipped out the moment my mama said she was pregnant, and my mama found another drug dealer to occupy her time soon after I was born, so she dropped me off at my grandma’s house one night- along with a couple of trash bags full of my clothes- and she chunked me the deuces, too.”

“So, it was just you and your grandmother, then?”

“Yep, and Grandpa Lewis…until he died.”

“How did he die?”

“Two thugs decided to rob him one night as he came out of a gas station. All he had on him was ten bucks and the pack of squares he’d just bought; so they took that before they shot him and left him on the sidewalk to bleed and die slowly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Grayson mumbled.

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, what was your relationship like with your grandparents?”

I smiled as distant memories of my grandpa flooded my mind. “Grandpa Lewis was cool as hell. He always had some funny story to tell us. Most of the time he was lying his ass off, but they were still funny stories. Like the time he told me that he taught Michael Jackson how to do the moonwalk. Then, he said he could have married Dorothy Dandridge, but my grandma got pregnant on purpose so that he would stay with her. He was a real character, but he was real smart too. The kindest man you could ever know and he would give anybody his last dime if they needed it,” I said, trying to avoid tearing up as I talked about the only man who’d ever shown me real love.

“Sounds like you were very fond of him. What about your grandmother; what was your relationship like with her?”

The smile instantly dropped from my face at the mention of my Grandma Alice. Unlike my grandpa, there is absolutely no love lost between me and Grandma Alice. I don’t have very many fond memories of that woman. She made my life hell almost from day one. I shrugged as I realized that Dr. Grayson was waiting for me to answer her question.

“There’s not a whole lot to say about her. She raised me from birth and she was the only mother I’ve ever known.”

“But, the two of you didn’t get along,” Dr. Grayson said as both a question and a statement.

“Hell no! I hated that woman and she hated me…right up until the day she died.”

“Why do you think she hated you?”

“Because she told me she did,” I said, matter-of-factly.

“Why don’t we talk about what happened between the two of you that caused her to say she hated the grandchild that she raised.”

“My grandma was just a hateful, miserable woman. I could have gone to college and managed to become the first Black female president of the United States and that still wouldn’t have made her proud of me. Nothing I ever did was good enough for her.”

“You obviously have built up anger and hostility towards your grandmother. Did you two ever have a good relationship? Was it just normal arguments that mothers and daughters have about things like curfews and boyfriends, or were there deeper issues between the two of you?”

I reached for my box of cigarettes, took one out, lit it, and took several puffs before I answered. “My grandma was a Jehovah’s Witness…one of those real religious, Bible-thumping types of people. They don’t believe in doing anything remotely fun or exciting, let them tell it. I hated going to that church, but grandma was one of those ‘as-long-as-you-live-in-my-house-you-do-what-I-say’ type of people, so I had no choice but to attend. I hated all those phony ass, so-called Christians. They like to walk around with their Bibles and literature and look down their noses at everybody else, but the people in that congregation are some of the most crooked, conniving, phoniest people I’ve ever had to be around, my grandma included. We had many arguments over the fact that I didn’t want to go there, nor did I pretend to like being forced to go.”

“Okay, so you didn’t share her religious beliefs. What else did you two argue about?”

“She wanted to control my life. She and my grandpa only had one child- a daughter named Marilyn. Marilyn was her pride and joy. She could do no wrong in grandma’s eyes. Even when Marilyn would sneak out of the house in the middle of the night to go lay up with older men and not return for days at a time, grandma still put her on a pedestal and worshiped the ground she walked on. Even when Marilyn popped up pregnant at the age of thirteen, Grandma Alice still loved her to death. She let Marilyn get away with any and everything, until she ran off with this older man she’d been messing around with in the middle of the night and never came back home. After her golden child left, I really caught hell.”

“How so?”

“Grandma was mad and upset at the world after that. She took all of her anger and frustration that she had built up for Marilyn out on me. I wasn’t allowed to have any kind of a social life. I couldn’t have friends over, I couldn’t go anywhere, other than to church. I used to sit in my room and dream of the day that I graduated from high school and got the hell out of her house. At first, I tried so hard to please her. I was always on the honor roll, I got an after-school job when I turned sixteen and made my own money, so I wouldn’t have ask her and Grandpa Lewis for much, and as hard as it was, I tried to remain a virgin until after I graduated. All of my friends around me were proudly having sex and losing their virginity, but I was determined to wait. I think Grandma thought that if she let me out of the house, I would end up like Marilyn and get knocked up and run off with some man, so she felt like she had to keep a tight leash around my neck.”

“So, it sounds like you were a good kid.”

“I tried to be…I really did. It was hard though, not giving in to peer pressure. There were a couple of boys I wouldn’t have minded giving it up to, but I really wanted to make grandma happy. I realize now that nothing I did was ever going to make her happy, all because I didn’t want to be like her and be a Jehovah’s Witness.”

“So, you honestly believe that’s the reason why she didn’t like you?”

“I know it is. Well, that’s not the only reason, but it’s part of it. I remember when I first went to her and told her that I wanted to get a job after school. The first thing she said was, “No; an after-school job will take away from you going to the Kingdom Hall…,’ That’s what Jehovah’s Witnesses call church. They don’t call it church, they say the Kingdom Hall. I begged her to let me get a job but at first, she wouldn’t budge on her stance. Then, I think she realized that if I had a job, that would mean more money coming into the house, or rather, into her hands. My grandma was a real money-hungry type of woman. She would do anything to get money. She even let some strange man move into Marilyn’s room after she ran away so that he could pay her rent. I think she eventually realized that me having a job would mean more money in her pocket, so she let me get the job…and made me pay her rent every two weeks when I got paid. I became her tenant, not her child anymore. And no matter how many or how few hours I worked, she had her hand out and wanted her cut every pay day, or she was going off on me. I remember her telling me, “If going to work is more important to you than going to the Kingdom Hall, fine…that’s your soul that’s gonna burn come judgment day; but if you’re going to work and stay here, you got to pay me.”

“But in spite of all of that, you still tried to make her proud of you?!”

“Yes…I tried to. I went to school everyday, then work immediately after. I wasn’t having sex, I was a straight A and B student. What parent wouldn’t be happy about that? I’ll tell you who wasn’t…mine. She resented the hell out of me for not wanting to follow in her footsteps and be baptized as a Jehovah’s Witness. After I stopped going altogether, she became real distant and even more mean to me for no reason. I could never go to her and talk to her about boys or things that most teenagers go through…she didn’t want to hear it. If I even mentioned anything about boys or having sex before marriage, she’d get to rantin’ and ravin’ about how ‘the Bible says it’s a sin to engage in pre-marital sex.’ Anything I wanted to do, she acted like it meant that I’d be banished to hell forever. When I got my feelings hurt and my heart broken for the first time by a guy I really liked, all she had to say was, “That’s what you get for choosing not to serve the Lord. You should have got one of the good, Christian boys from the Kingdom Hall and not those old heathens that be cheesin’ and grinning’ up in your fast ass face…then you wouldn’t have to worry about it.” No matter how many times I told her that I hadn’t even lost my virginity yet, she never believed me. And when I got raped, she felt no pity for me and blamed me for it. “That’s what happens to sinners, she told me.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that. So, let’s talk about the rape, since that’s the reason why we’re both here.”

“Grandpa Lewis had died and it was just me and her. I had a hard time dealing with his death. I became depressed and I cried a lot, because I missed him so much. He was a stern man, but he was never as strict and hateful to me as grandma was. She really started her psycho-christian babble after he died. Grandpa Lewis wasn’t a Jehovah’s Witness like she was. Had she met him after she became a member, she wouldn’t have been allowed to marry him, because her religion only permits members to marry other members. But she and Grandpa Lewis were already married before she began going there. She used to always try to persuade him to go with her, but he only went a few times. After he died, she said he was going to hell because he didn’t serve the Lord. My grandpa wasn’t a religious man. He prayed and believed in God, but he wasn’t one to attend church every Sunday. She always hated that about him.”

“So, there was animosity between your grandparents too, then?”

“Sometimes. Grandpa would often tell her to ease up on me a little bit…stop breathing down my neck so much and let me just be a teenager and enjoy life. She hated that he rarely ever took her side whenever she was going off on me for whatever reason. When he died, and I didn’t have him there to stick up for me anymore, she really became difficult to live with. I was only six months shy of gradation at that point, so I tried to just stay out of her way by working as much as possible and spending as much time away from home as I could until then. The night that I was raped, I had just gotten off work and was walking home.”

“Before you start, I need to turn the recorder on. Your statement can be used in court.”

I shrugged. “Whatever.”

I waited until after she placed a small digital recorder on the table and pressed the record button before I continued to talk.

“Okay, you may continue.”

“So, I had just gotten off work and was walking home,” I said, picking up where I’d left off. “I remember regretting not wearing a jacket with a hood on it, because it started to rain as soon as I walked out of the restaurant. I only lived a few blocks from the fast food restaurant where I worked and I usually walked home unless the weather was real bad, then grandma came and picked me up. I hadn’t made it far when a car pulled up beside me. I recognized the boys in the car as three of my classmates. They asked me if I wanted a ride. I said no at first. Grandma Alice had always preached to me to never accept rides from men or boys, and I’d always heeded her warning. But just as I was about to say, “No, thanks,” lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a loud boom of thunder, then it started pouring down raining. I wasn’t trying to walk home in the rain, so I got in the back seat of the car.”

“So, did they take you straight home?”

“If they had, we wouldn’t be sitting here, Doc. No, they didn’t take me straight home. They convinced me to go to this house party that they were on their way to. At first, I told them I couldn’t go. Grandma would have killed me if I’d gone to a party rather than straight home after work. They started teasing me, calling me a goody-too-shoes- something that I absolutely hated. Because I was one of the few virgins left at school and I rarely ever got in trouble or did anything remotely fun, most of my classmates thought I acted stuck-up or like I was better than them. For once, I wanted to prove that I wasn’t stuck up…that I wasn’t the Ms. Goody-Too-Shoes everybody thought I was, so I told them I’d go to the party with them. Biggest mistake of my life.”

I paused before I continued talking, as I thought back to that night…the night that changed my life forever…

Sample Sunday- Massage Therapy

**unedited excerpt from Red Hot Rebound..COMING SOON**

Summer and Dionne were spending the week at The Harrington Oceanside Hotel & Spa, a contemporary, luxury boutique hotel which offered the absolute best accommodations money could by. The 39-story private hotel boasted they have the best view of the Miami skyline and it was located only minutes from the Port of Miami. If guests didn’t want to leave the hotel, the state of the art bedrooms with floor to ceiling windows, full service spa, bowling and billiard rooms, media room, and many dining options provided plenty of indoor entertainment.

“I’m having fun by relaxing in the room watching this big screen tv and ordering complimentary room service.”

“Nope, you’re not. Get up, get dressed. We’re going to go down to ThreeFortyFive restaurant and have brunch before we head to the beach.”

“I’m not hungry; you go ahead. I just want to sleep,” Summer said with a sullen expression on her face. Damn, I wish she’d leave me the hell alone.

“You slept on the plane, you slept most of the day yesterday, and you can sleep when you’re dead. Now, get up and I refuse to take no for an answer. The way you’re moping around here, I’m almost embarrassed to call you my cousin. And have you even bathed since we’ve been here, because you kind of smell. I know you just got dumped, but you won’t find another man walking around here with a funky coochie. Please get up and go wash your ass, girl.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll get up. Lord knows I don’t want to embarrass the almighty Dionne. And I don’t even smell that bad,” Summer said, taking a whiff of her underarms to be sure. “Okay, so I forgot to put on deodorant,” she said wrinkling her nose as a faint onion-like smell wafted from her armpits. “But I’m not hungry and I do need to take a shower, so I’ll just catch up with you later.”

“Fine, but I want you to get out of this room and go enjoy yourself today, even if you just go sunbathe on the beach. As a matter of fact…,” Dionne said while digging through her Gucci Soho leather shoulder bag- compliments of Marcus’ credit card- looking for a business card. She used her cell phone to call down to the hotel spa and make an appointment for Summer to get pampered.

“It’s all arranged; you need to be at the spa at 11:30 on the dot, my treat. I put it on my credit card, so all you have to do is show up. And let me tell you, Mekhi- the masseuse I arranged for you to see- girrllll, that man is so good with his hands, you’ll definitely need to take an extra pair of panties with you, if you know what I mean,” she promised with a wink.

“Okay, okay…I’ll go get the massage and then I’ll meet you down at the beach later. Will that get you off my ass?” Summer snapped.

“Perfect. I’ll see you later.”

Dionne exited the room and while Summer wanted to lie back down, she really could use a massage. She grabbed her cell phone off the nightstand and tapped the screen. The L.E.D. notification was blinking, letting her know she had missed messages…but none of them were from Justin. She rolled her eyes and placed the phone back down on the stand, then got out of the bed. Dionne would kill her if she didn’t go get the massage she’d so graciously paid for.

After a quick shower, she packed her beach bag so she wouldn’t have to come back to the room, then headed down to find the spa, which was on the twentieth floor of the hotel. She sat in the waiting area and admired the beautiful space while she waited for her name to be called.

About ten minutes later, a man who can only be described as looking like a younger version of Morris Chestnut, called her to the back. He was wearing the spa uniform- a white polo shirt and white pants- which fit snugly on his butt, bringing attention to it’s perfect proportion.

“Lord, forgive me for these nasty thoughts I’m having right now,” Summer whispered to herself under her breath. In spite of the silent prayer she’d just said, she couldn’t take her eyes off of this man’s ass.

“I’m Mekhi, and I’ll be servicing you today,” he said, stopping suddenly, which caused Summer to walk into him. He smiled, revealing thirty-two perfect, white teeth.

Embarrassed, Summer simply nodded and smiled as he held his hand out, gesturing for her to step into the private room where she’d be getting her massage. She’d been two seconds from grabbing his ass when he turned around. The treatment room was dimly lit but very inviting, with it’s beautiful floral arrangement and a water fountain, which was in the corner of the room. The sounds of the flowing water was both calming and beautiful. The massage table was almost as big as a twin-size bed.

“I’ll leave you alone to get undressed. Would you like something to drink, water or wine, perhaps?” Mekhi asked.

“It’s a little early for wine, but a bottle of water would be fine.”

“I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable.”

After Mekhi closed the door, Summer stripped down to her underwear. She removed her bra, but left her panties on. Surely, she wouldn’t need to take them off just to get a massage. Fine as that masseuse is though, if he wants to ‘massage’ my kitty, I’d probably hop right out of these bad boys real quick, she thought. After she put on the complimentary plush white bath robe, she climbed up to sit on the massage table and waited for Mekhi to return.

A few minutes later, he re-entered the room and handed her a bottle of water. Summer couldn’t help but allow her eyes to travel the length of his body. Even in his uniform, it was obvious he worked out a lot. His biceps bulged from underneath the sleeves of his polo shirt and she’d already practically drooled over his butt earlier.

“Are you read to begin?” Mekhi asked, squirting some lotion onto his hands.

Summer couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were as he rubbed them together. “Uh huh,” she said as she took a sip of the water and squeezed her thighs together tightly, trying to stop the vibration sensation in them. Maybe this massage was a bad idea. She hadn’t expected to have this kind of reaction to a random hotel employee.

“Okay, then; go ahead and remove your robe and lie down on your stomach and we‘ll get started,” Mekhi told her. He turned his back to her and gathered all the oils he’d be using while she un-robed and laid on her stomach. She pulled a towel over her backside as she got comfortable on the table.

Mehki began the full body massage ritual by starting at her feet, focusing on pressure points as he rubbed them. Next, he glided his hand up to her calves, deeply massaging first one and then the other, before he moved his hangs higher, to rub the backs of her thighs. Summer bit her lip in an attempt to stifle the moan that took form in her throat and threatened to escape her mouth when Mekhi’s large hands squeezed her ass as he slowly and thoroughly massaged her body, and her breath caught in her throat when his fingers nearly touched the forbidden spot between her thighs as he continued his treatment. Summer simply closed her eyes and tried to block out the dirty thoughts that crept into her head as Mekhi relieved her of pain and stress. Damn, if only he’d move his hand a little to the left.

“So, are you from around here?” Mekhi asked as he worked.

“No, I’m visiting with my best friend, Dionne for summer vacation,” Summer responded.

“Cool. You enjoying it here so far?”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Miami is one of the most beautiful vacation destinations in the world, and you have to guess?”

“I’ve only been here two days, and I have mostly stayed in my room.”

“Jetlag had you tired?”

“Not really….I just didn’t feel like getting out of bed. I honestly didn’t even want to come on the trip, but Dionne would have never let me hear the end of it if I hadn’t come.”

“Why didn’t you want to come, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Summer shrugged as Mekhi rubbed her shoulders. “I just…have a lot going on right now that’s keeping me from enjoying myself.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Man problems, let’s just leave it at that.”

“Ah, I see,” Mekhi said, she his hands dropped back to Summer’s butt and he squeezed her plump cheeks again, which caused Summer to twitch. She held her breath as his fingers glided up and down the inside of her thighs again, the tips of his fingers barely grazing her Georgia peach.

This feels so inappropriate…yet so good at the same time, Summer thought to herself.

“Can you turn over onto your back now?” Mekhi’s deep voice said, breaking her thoughts.

Summer turned over and looked up at Mekhi, who stared down at her with unmistakable lust in his eyes for a brief moment before he began his work. Just as before, Mekhi began at her feet and worked his way up. Even though Mekhi made sure not to touch any of the forbidden areas, he’d let his fingers glide dangerously close before he’d move to another spot.

“Does this feel good to you?” Mekhi asked as he looked down into Summer’s big, brown eyes while he rubbed the inside of her thighs, applying just the right amount of pressure to them to cause her thighs to tingle in reaction to his touch.

“Yes.” Summer’s voice was barely a whisper and her eyelids fluttered rapidly. She bit her lip and groaned when Mekhi’s fingers repeatedly grazed the inside edge of her underwear and she was sure he was going to touch her there. To her disappointment, he remained professional and never did.

Mekhi grasped Summer’s forearm and lightly massaged it, all the way down to fingertips. “Did you know that the wrist has direct access to one of a woman’s erogenous zones?”

Summer shook her head no. “What are erogenous zones? And no, I didn’t know that.”

Mekhi turned her arm so that her palm was facing upward and slid his fingers along the crease inside her wrist and rubbed it, applying slight pressure to the spot right underneath her palm. He gently pressed the spot with his thumb, which caused Summer to flinch a little. “Erogenous zones are sexual pressure points, basically.” He pressed the spot again as he looked down at Summer’s face to gauge her reaction.

“What was that?” she asked. Whatever Mekhi had just did, it immediately awaked all of her sexual senses and sent a tingling jolt of energy throughout her entire body.

“That was me finding one of your g-spots,” he answered as he moved to the other arm and began the same ritual.

“Wow, who knew the wrist could be so exciting?” Summer said nervously. She was still trying to recover from whatever Mekhi had done a few seconds ago when he’d pressed that spot on her wrist.

“So, man problems, huh? What happened, you guys broke up?” Mekhi asked after a few moments of silence.

The thought of Justin and his betrayal put a bitter taste in her mouth and she scowled as she recalled catching him at the mall with another woman.

“That bad, huh? Wanna talk about it?”

“He told me that he thought we were moving too fast, then the next day I saw him at the mall kissing another woman.”

“Ouch. I’m sorry,” Mekhi said sympathetically.

“I am too. It hurts a lot because I thought he was the one. But at least now I know the truth,” Summer said, unable to hide the sadness in her voice.

“I don’t know anything about you, but I know you’re a beautiful woman and your boyfriend sounds like a jerk. Trust me, he’ll regret his decision, watch and see.”

Mekhi’s words were meant to make her feel better, but Summer’s wound was still fresh and it was too early to be optimistic about the future.

“Well, we’re done. Would you like to take a shower? If so, I’ll escort you to the locker rooms.”

“Has it been an hour already?”

“Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself,” Mekhi told her as he gathered his oils and put them away.

“I guess so,” Summer mumbled. If she wasn’t ashamed, she’d pay for another massage, but the pamphlet she’d read in the waiting area stated everything had to be done by appointments only.

Mekhi offered her his hand to help her down off the table, which she accepted. “I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of your trip. Try to have some fun while you’re here. It would be a shame to come all this way and let your ex keep you from having fun, because I’m sure he’s having his fun.”

“Thanks,” Summer snapped, annoyed at Mekhi’s statement.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” he tried to explain.

“It’s okay. You’re probably right- while I’m spending all my time thinking about him, he’s probably not thinking about me at all.”

“He’d be a fool not to be thinking about you,” Mekhi told her, licking his lips while he let his eyes travel up and down her body. It dawned on her that she hadn’t put the bathrobe back on, and her breasts were on full display.

“I hope you will accept my apology because what I’m thinking right now is extremely unprofessional and I’m trying not to step out of line, so you’d better hurry up and put that robe on now before my thoughts become actions,” Mekhi said.

“What are you thinking because I just might be thinking the same thing?” Summer asked, looking up at him from under her arched eyebrows mischievously. I can’t believe I’m standing here boldly flirting with a man I just met, but what the hell.

 

Excerpt from Red Hot Rebound…COMING SOON!!

Sample Sunday: The Divorce Chronicles 2

**unedited and subject to change before release**

Angela Bassett Moment: 

The full-sized bookcase headboard bed that had been handed down to me by my mother years ago had been replaced with a king size white diamond sleigh bed. Even more noticeable than the beautiful bed was the black and white zebra print comforter set-which was accented by hot pink decorative pillows- and the dozen or so shopping bags that set on top of it. I could definitely tell that a woman had a hand in the bedroom décor because Mike is a man’s man and there’s no way he would ever choose such a girly look for the bedroom if it were left up to him; nor would he wear the Nicki Minaj Pink Friday perfume and makeup that was scattered on top of the dresser.

My breathing increased and I began seeing red. So, he’s moved his whore up in my house already, huh?! I walked over and looked inside the bags on the bed. There were items from Victoria’s Secret, Bath & Body Works, and Pink Oasis- a store that sold slutty clothes to THOT’s around the world. To chicks like Daphne, this store was their version of Lord & Taylor. I emptied the items out of the Pink Oasis bags and studied the tacky mesh jumpsuits and skin-tight pattern print mini-dresses, all in loud colors.The one I have in my hand at the moment is a black tube dress with hip cutouts that leaves little to the imagination. Mike had obviously treated her to a shopping spree at the mall, because the receipts showed the last four digits of his debit card number, which had been used to purchase this stuff. Really, Mike?! I’m not a prude, by any means…but I would never wear this stuff. I don’t know any respectable woman who would.

I spent the next several minutes perusing the other bags and the countless Payless shoe boxes on the bed. My husband cheated on me with a hooker who wears cheap dresses and Payless shoes? Even worse than that, he’s moved her up in the house-MY HOUSE-and has her sleeping in a brand new bed, when he knew damn well the bed we’d shared was so old and uncomfortable, we could feel the springs in our backs. The loud, irritating squeaking noises the bed made every time we moved prevented us from ever getting a good night’s sleep.

My nostrils flared as I looked around the room. He couldn’t upgrade his wife, but he didn’t seem to have a problem upgrading his whore, who has definitely made her presence made around my house. I remember when I asked him for $20.00 one day to put gas in the car and he acted like I’d asked his ass for two million dollars. I still get mad when I think about how he acted all huffy with me, like he didn’t want to give me the money when he’s the one who drove my car and used all my damn gas anyway. Then he had the nerve to throw the money down on the table at me- like he expected me to fetch it like a dog or something- instead of putting it in my hand. “Nah, if that’s your attitude, you can keep your money,” I’d told him. And he didn’t hesitate to pick it up and put it back in his wallet. Cheap bastard!

‘Oh, but you can treat ol’ girl to shopping sprees at the mall with no problem, huh Mike? Oh, okay!’ I talked out loud to myself as if Mike were standing in the room with me.

I went on a rampage, tearing up and destroying anything my eyes set sight on. Tears mixed with snot ran down my face, but I didn’t care at the moment. I continued to talk to myself out loud- just like Angela Bassett did in my favorite movie, Waiting To Exhale– as I destroyed all of Daphne’s things: ‘After all I’ve done for this negro, this is how he repays me? I screwed his ass when he wanted it…however he wanted it; cooked his meals, washed his funky ass drawers, smelled his stank farts when he passed gas in his sleep. Where was Ms. Thang at when he had a common head cold, yet he acted like his ass had pneumonia and was about to die? Was she the one slaving over the hot stove, cooking him a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup just like his mama used to make for him, because he claims he simply can’t eat the stuff out of the can? Hell nah! Was she the one he called into the bathroom to squeeze the nasty infection out of the pimples and blackheads that he got often from him bacne flair ups? Fuck nah! Was she the one who was patient with him and held him down every time he was ‘between jobs’ and didn’t have money to help pay the rent? I think not. Damn you, Mike.’

I felt myself getting dizzy a few minutes later. Tired and out of breath, I let my body slide down the wall until my butt hit the floor. I sat and cried, using my sleeve to wipe my face. I effed this room up, that’s for damn sure. The words to Jazmine Sullivan’s song, Bust Your Windows came to mind: ‘After five whole years of this bullshit…gave you all of me and you played with it..’ Yep, that’s exactly how I’m feeling right now. Am I wrong? Maybe. But imagining the look on Mike’s face when he sees the mess I’ve made makes me feel better. Hell, he’ll be alright, and she will too. They’d better be lucky I got tired, because there’s a whole lot of more damage I could do.

I sat for a minute and caught my breath, but the tears kept falling. Here I was, thinking I’ve been a good wife, and Mike has been out laying it low and spreading it wide somewhere else. My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. It’s Simone. I wasn’t going to answer her at first, but maybe talking to her will calm my nerves.

Sample Sunday: The Divorce Chronicles (Book 2)

Coming Soon!

**unedited and subject to change before book is released**

“Can you believe this negro had the nerve to tell me that he’s going to call the police on me for trashing his house?” I asked Simone before taking a sip of my Ameretto sour cocktail.

It’s been a few days since I wrecked havoc on Mike’s crib, and Simone suggested that we go out, to celebrate my ‘almost’ divorce from Mike. We’re sipping on drinks at The Purple Palace jazz club while enjoying music from the house band.

“I told you he was gonna call the cops on you. What did you expect, messing up his stuff like that?”

I waved her comment off with a nonchalant wave. “Girl, I ain’t worried about Mike calling the police on me.”

“You should be.”

“I’m not. I told him that if he calls the police on me, he’ll just be bringing unwanted attention to the little side-hustle he has going on…and he definitely doesn’t want that.”

“What side hustle?”

“Apparently, he’s selling weed, and God only knows what else.”

Simone’s eyes widened. “How do you know he’s selling drugs?”

“Because I found his stash while I was looking for my suitcase in the closet the other day. And it’s not just a little bag or two…there was at least twenty bags of weed in there, along with a scale and about one thousand dollars in cash.”

Simone gasped. “Mike’s a drug dealer?!” she said, a little too loudly.

“Keep your voice down,” I said, while casting a quick glance at the bartender, who was trying to pretend like he wasn’t ear hustling on our conversation.

“I’m just saying, how did you not know your husband…”

“That’s my soon-to-be-ex-husband,” I corrected her.

“Okay, your soon-to-be-ex-husband was selling drugs in your house?”

“Hell, I went to work everyday, and I put in long hours at the salon; I didn’t have time to sit around and watch Mike’s every move.”

“What if he gets caught and he tries to say that you were in on it the whole time? You’ll be going to jail for real.”

“I thought about that. That’s why I didn’t do what I started to do and keep the money. I left everything where it was. So, if he gets caught, he’s on his own…him and that little slut he left me for.”

Before Simone could respond, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to find an older man who looked to be in his fifties, standing there grinning at me.

“Hey, sweet thang…you wanna dance with me?”

I gave him a quick once-over. “No thanks…maybe later,” I told him with my nose turned up in the air.

“I’ma hold you to that,” he winked before sauntering off.

“Why you didn’t wanna dance with him?” Simone asked me after he left.

“Girl, dude is rocking a Al Sharpton press-and-curl and gold chains; he looks like Jerome off Martin. All he’s missing is the gold teeth.”

Simone cracked up laughing. “He doesn’t look that bad.”

“Well let me call him back over here and you can dance with him, then.”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Besides, I don’t want no old man; I like my men young and strong with good stamina…like that cute tenderoni who played Kunta Kinte in the new Roots. Did you see it?”

“I watched some of it…until I started getting mad, then I changed the channel.”

“Girrlll, well I tuned in every night so I could see Kunta. He made my kitty moist looking at him running through those African jungles, all hot and sweaty…” I said while squirming on my barstool and fanning myself. “He could definitely get it.”

Simone just looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Him and any other man under thirty. You better leave those young boys alone.”

“The hell I will. I love me some young men. I can train them just right.”

“Obviously you couldn’t train Mike,” Simone said sarcastically under her breath but loud enough for me to hear.

“Oh, that was such a low blow, bitch. You didn’t even have to go there.”

“That was pretty mean, huh?”

“Hell yeah, it was. You can buy me another drink to make it up to me.”

While Simone called the bartender over, I looked around the room, trying to see if I could find a potential candidate to spend the rest of the night with when we leave here. So far, all I see are men my age and older. I was glad when Simone suggested to come to this lounge because the age requirement to get in is twenty-five and above, which means there are men here young enough to be my type. The only bad part about it is I have to compete with these hot in the tail, twenty-something year old girls walking around with their silicone enhanced booties and tata’s on display, soaking up all the attention from the young cuties I’m hoping to attract.

My eyes landed on two men sitting at the opposite end of the bar. I caught eyes with one of them, who smiled and winked an eye at me, flirting with me. He has a perfect set of pearly whites, and his baby face suggests that he can’t be more than twenty-five. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, the sleeves hugging his bulging bi-ceps and showing off his muscles. He just doesn’t know- winking at me will get his little young ass molested up in here.

Our eyes talked to each other from where we sat. No words were needed…it was clear we both liked what we saw. I’m glad that I wore this low cut, v-neck top- so he can get an eyeful of my cleavage, which he can’t take his eyes off of. My boobies put Tocarra’s from America’s Next Top Model’s to shame, and I loved to show them off. Since he’s watching, I’ll put on a show for him. I took an ice cube from my glass and sucked on it seductively before accidentally-on purpose letting it slip out of my hands and down the front of my shirt. I took my time about digging the ice cube out of my shirt. By the time I removed it, my nipples were standing at attention. I looked up at him and winked.

“You are so thirsty,” Simone said, her voice full of disgust.

“I sure am, and I’m hoping that sexy piece of chocolate will quench my thirst as soon as we get up out of here.”

“After that pathetic show you just put on, I’ll bet his little dick is hard as hell right now.”

“Lawd, I hope so. I’m about to go find out. Excuse me.” I stood up, preparing to make my way over to where the two chocolate God’s were sitting.

“You are not about to go over there?! You don’t even know them,” Simone exclaimed.

I don’t know why she always acts so shocked at how forward I am when it comes to men. When I see something I want, I go for it…I’ve always been this way. “I sure am. I’m about to give him something he can feel, baby…and he’s gonna like it, too,” I laughed, singing the words to Aretha Franklin’s classic song that was remade by En Vogue in the 90’s. I adjusted my girls, making sure they were sitting up just right in my push-up bra. In my mind, Giving Him Something He Can Feel played in the background as I sexily sashayed over to sit down on the stool beside who I hope to be rolling around the bed in the throes of passion with by the end of the night. I’m not looking for a husband to replace Mike…not just yet; but I am not opposed to getting my freak on while I’m waiting on my divorce to be finalized.

Sample Sunday: The Divorce Chronicles (Book 2)

This is an un-edited excerpt from Book 2 of The Divorce Chronicles Series. Coming Soon.

I simply stared at Mike for several minutes. He looked so peaceful when he slept…so relaxed and serene. Ooohhh, but if he only knew how close to death he was, because I wanted to take his erection in my hands again…and cut it off.

And I wasn’t gonna do no Lorena Bobbitt mess and hop in my car and toss it out the window while I was driving. Nah, I would be stand over him, dangling his joint in his face while he writhed around in pain, as I tell him, “You see this? This is what happens when you cheat on your wife and call her your side-chicks name while you’re talking in your sleep.”

Woosah, Danielle. I climbed out of bed and left the bedroom and headed into the kitchen. Nah, I’m not going to get the knife. I’m not that crazy…yet. I need a stiff drink to calm my nerves before I do mess around and go all DMX and lose my mind up in here.

Sample Sunday: Sugar Daddies

I walked into the restaurant and looked around trying to locate Donnell. I didn’t see him. I looked down at my watch. We’d agreed to meet at seven o’clock. It was six-forty five. I was a little early, so I didn’t trip. I walked over to the bar, which was close by the door, to wait for him. I watched people walk in and out, but after twenty minutes, still no Donnell. I was beginning to think I’d been stood up, when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I swiveled around on the bar stool and came face to face with an older gentleman. My purse was setting on the stool beside me, and I assumed he wanted me to move it so he could sit down.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” I said as I reached for my purse.

“Simone?” the man asked.    

I wrinkled my brow in confusion. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen this man before. “Yes, I’m Simone.”

“I thought so. I’m Donnell.”

I simply stared at the man. I know he didn’t just say what I thought he said. I did a quick scan of him. He was bald, except for the hair on the sides of his head. He was short and fat- he put me in the mind of Carl Winslow from that Steve Urkel tv show. He had none of the features that the man I’d conversed with online had. I quickly decided that he couldn’t be the same Donnell I was there to see.

“Oh, nice to meet you, Donnell,” I said before turning my attention back to the football game that was playing on the tv mounted up on the wall.
I felt another tap on the shoulder. The old man was still standing there staring down at me.

“Yes, can I help you?” I asked with a smile. He was starting to agitate me, but I was raised to respect my elders.

“Yes, we agreed to meet here. I’m Donnell…from the dating site.”

My smile slowly morphed into a frown. No way was this the man I’d been talking to online. This had to be a joke. I looked around the bar, expecting the real Donnell to be standing in a corner laughing at the joke he was playing. Well, ha ha…jokes over.

“No…that can’t be. The man I was talking to online is…”

“My son,” he said before I could finish.

“Your what?!” I exclaimed, my voice raising a few octaves.

He sat on the bar stool beside me and gave me a sly grin. “Let me explain.”

“Yes…please do.” I tried not to notice that his feet dangled from the stool and didn’t touch the floor.
“Well, my name is Donnell, but I used my son’s pictures to create the profile on my online social sites. I have a hard time meeting women, both in person and online. They take one look at me, and run for the hills. So, I’ve started using his photos to get women to talk to me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“So, you deceive women for your own personal enjoyment?” I asked him. “And what happens when you meet them and they realize they’ve been bamboozled?”

“Well, you’re the first woman who’s ever agreed to meet me in person. I guess I never expected you to say yes,” he said sheepishly.

I can’t believe this. I’ve been freaking catfished. I took in Donnell’s appearance. At least I know what the 65 in ‘browngirllover65’ stands for. He’s got to be at least that old, if not older. He had on a tweed blazer jacket, corduroy pants, and the white dress shirt he had on looked as if the button were struggling not to pop open. First Gary, now Donnell. I wish I would see Cupid’s little ass right now. I’d take his arrow and beat him with it.

“I apologize for lying to you, but it’s so hard trying to find a woman who doesn’t judge me based on my looks alone. I’m really a good guy, but nobody will give me a chance because I don’t look like a supermodel.”

I was initially mad at Donnell for his cruel joke, but I felt my heart softening and I began to feel a little sorry for him. Would it be wrong of me to try to get him to hook me up with his son, though?

“So, since we’re both here, would you like to have a drink with me…my treat?” he asked me.

“Sure.”