SAMPLE SUNDAY: Unexpected Situations- Simone's Divorce Chronicles 1

 Enjoy this little excerpt of Unexpected Situations: Simone's Divorce Chronicles- Vol.1. I've decided to make this a three (maybe four) part series. #ComingSoon

**unedited and may change before book is published**


“So, Gary called me, I’m guessing soon after you gave him my number. He sounded okay over the phone. Actually, he sounded better than okay. He said all the right things; he said he’d been married and was divorced, and we bonded over the fact that’s I’ve just gotten divorced. So far, so good at that point. He told me that he’d saw a picture of you and I together one day when he was at Mike’s house, and he thought I was really pretty and wanted to meet me. We talked on the phone for almost an hour, and he sounded like someone I wouldn’t mind talking to or hanging out with from time to time. So when he asked me if I’d like to meet for drinks, I told him yes.”

“So where did y’all go?”

“I told him to meet me at Applebees. First of all, he was late…thirty minutes late, to be exact. I almost started to think he wasn’t coming. I was sitting at the bar sipping on my second margarita when I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and say, “Hey pretty lady, sorry I kept you waiting.”  

I recognized his voice, so I turned around. This fool had a jerri curl on what little hair he has on his head and gold teeth. And his hairline had the nerve to be receding, on top of that. He reminded me of Bishop Don Juan with those gold chains and that loud yellow silk pimp suit he had on.”

I waited for Danielle to stop giggling on the other end of the phone before I continued telling her about my meeting with Gary.

“He sat down and ordered himself a drink…didn’t ask me if I wanted one. I let that slide since I had already bought my own drink. So, we start talking and I notice that he’s real touchy-feely, which I don’t like. He kept trying to put his hand on my thigh. I don’t like men touching me unless I give them permission to, so I politely kept removing it. When he wasn’t trying to touch me, he was staring at my cleavage. 

“Ooh girl, you sure got a nice set of tit’s on you. I’m a breast man too…ooh wee. I’d suck on those babies 24/7 if I could.” He’d followed that statement up by licking his lips, which made me uncomfortable as hell. 

I’d tried to steer the conversation away from my body parts and onto something more appropriate. Gary was coming across as a sleazy perv, but he was harmless at that point. “So, what do you do for a living,” I’d asked after having to order and pay for my own drink.

“A little of this, a little of that,” he replied after taking a sip of his beer. He’d only had one, but his eyes were glossed over like he’d had several drinks before he came. “What about you…what you do for a living?”

“I work in the revenue office at the court house,” I told him.

His eyes traveled up and down my body, making me nervous again. 
“Girl, with a body like yours, you shouldn’t be wasting time at that courthouse; shoot, you got a body for the streets. Men would pay top dollar for you.”

Wait, did he just say what I thought he had? “Excuse me?” 

“Check it, baby. Why don’t you come work for me. You can make more money working for me than you can at that courthouse. I already got about six gals working for me, and they bring in good money, even after I get my cut. Good as you look, though, I don’t know if I’d wanna share you.” He leaned in a little too close to me, which made me lean back on my bar stool. “And you smelling good, too; girl, I’d give you all the money in my pocket and drink your bath water if you let me hit that. And I like to lick it too.” He leaned in and winked at me.

That was it. Date’s over. I stood up and grabbed my purse off the other bar stool, then turned to walk out. 

“Hey, where you going, baby?” 

I walked out and headed for my car. I didn’t know who that fool thought he was, but I didn’t appreciate the way he’d acted. Just as I unlocked the door and was about to get in, he came up behind me. I tried to hurry up and open the door, but he pushed it back shut.

“Where you going, you sexy thang?” He was standing so close to me, and the combination of his Old Spice and his breath was making me nauseous. 

“Home. Would you move up off me, please?” I said while holding my breath.

“But the date’s just getting started. I thought we were having a good time.”

“You thought wrong. Now move.”

“Oh I see; you’re one of those kind who likes to play hard to get, huh? Well, that’s fine too.” With his body weight still pressing me against me car, he pulled a roll of money from his pocket. He peeled off a hundred dollar bill, then waved it in my face. “See this here? What you think this can get me,” he asked as he waved the bill in my face. He leaned in and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek.

I turned my head as I placed my hand on his chest and pushed him as hard as I could.

“Oh, that ain’t enough, huh?” He peeled off another hundred. 
“Surely this ought to get me some?”


“They can’t print enough money to make me want to sleep with you,” I told him. 

“Well in that case, I’ll just take it,” he said, putting his money back in his pocket. 

His smile disappeared and his eyes grew dark. He was scaring me, for real. I reached in my pocket and fingered my pepper spray. When Gary lunged at me, I sprayed his ass. While he yelled and cursed and rubbed his eyes, I quickly got in my car, locked the door, and took off.

“Oh my God; I’m so sorry, Simone. I had no idea Gary was that kind of guy. I never would have given him your number.”

“Whatever, bitch. I just know not to ever go out with anybody you try to hook me up with again.”

“He’s just one man. All men are not like that. But again, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You sure will, heifer. Bye!”

Uber excited...my short story was chosen to be part of The Ex Chronicles Anthology...

Last night, I got some of the best news I've gotten since I began my literary journey. Back in October, I came across a post on Facebook that NAACP Award Winning Author and National Best Selling Author ReShonda Tate Billingsley (Mama's Boy and Let The Church Say Amen) was looking for authors who were interested in being a part of an anthology she was doing, called The Ex Chronicles. After second guessing myself as to whether or not I should submit a story, I finally decided to go for it. You can't get ahead if you never take the first step. 

Earlier yesterday, I remember thinking, I guess my story wasn't accepted, because I hadn't heard back from her. I wasn't upset, I just told myself to keep trying. Some best selling authors were told no numerous times before someone told them yes. Then, I checked my email last night before I went to bed, and saw an email from her. My short story submission was accepted. Out of over 300 submissions, my story made the 15 chosen for the book. I only began my literary journey in 2014, and I'm still a relatively unknown self-published author, so this is kind of a big deal for me. To be chosen out of so many other authors to work with the best of the best in the African-American literary world...I have been cheesing all day. 

Stay tuned for the cover and more about this anthology that I'm so honored to be a part of. I can only go up from here. 

SAMPLE SUNDAY: Unexpected Situations- Suddenly Divorced

**This excerpt is unedited and may change by the time the book is published**

I tried to make our marriage work…I really did. I stayed married to that bastard far longer than I ever should have, mainly for the sake of my fifteen year old son, Bryceson, whom I had from a previous relationship. His sorry excuse for a father doesn’t have very much to do with him, so Bryceson and Chauncey have really gotten close over the years. They have a close bond, and I didn’t want to break it apart and leave him without a positive father figure in his life, once again. 

So, I overlooked many things, all so that I could say I was married, and so that my son would have a dad in his life. Mistake number one. Keep reading, you will come to realize- as I have- that I’ve made lot’s of mistakes concerning Chauncey.

Truth be told, I should have never even dated Chauncey’s ass longer than a month after we met…let alone married him. I reached for my wine glass, which was setting on the coffee table, and took a sip, then another one, then…what the hell, I turned the glass up and drank all the red liquid that remained in it. 

I wasn’t a big drinker before I met Chauncey. Hell, I’m not one now. I really don’t even care for the taste of liquor. In the past, if I could taste alcohol in a drink, I wouldn’t drink it. I stayed in my lane and stuck to fruity, girly wines and margaritas when I did decide to have a little sip of something. However, I have found myself needing fruity wine and margaritas a lot more frequently since I met him. I don’t get drunk, though…just tipsy enough to be able to cope with him and his bullshit, in an attempt to avoid picking up a lamp or something and throwing it at him when he says or does something stupid…which was often, here lately.

After I set the glass back on the table, I resume staring at the spot on the wall that has held my attention for so long. What was I going to hang there? I’m a bit of a wall décor hoarder, so I know I have something packed away in the storage closet outside that I can put there, I just don’t feel like getting up to go outside and look for it right now. 

My cellphone rang to the jingly apple ringtone it does when someone is calling me. I picked it up and glanced at the screen. It’s my friend, Danielle calling…probably to be nosy. I roll my eyes because I really don’t feel like talking and I know she’s about to ask me fifty-eleven gattdamn questions about Chauncey, but I answer the phone anyway. 

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey, girl. I was just calling to check up on you…make sure you’re not sitting over there crying and depressed.”

“Crying and depressed for what?”

“Because your marriage just ended, that’s why.”

“And?!”

“Annddd, most people are sad when they get divorced.”

“Well, I ain’t most people; and anyway, my marriage was over long before yesterday morning, hell. For the last six months, we’ve been living like roommates instead of husband and wife. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, has happened between us for a very long time- no kissing, hugging, fucking, nothing.”

“Okay, you’ve been telling me this for a while now, and I still don’t believe that you haven’t screwed your husband since the Fourth of July. It’s almost Thanksgiving, girl. ”

“Let me stop you right there…that’s ex-husband; and I know how long it’s been…and believe it, because it’s the truth.”

“Okay, ex-husband. But, since July 4th though? That’s a long time for a husband and wife to not have sex. You know he’s been out there getting it from someone else.”

“Yes…July 4th, and even then it was a mercy fuck.”

Danielle laughed loudly. “What’s a mercy fuck?”

“It’s when a woman is in a relationship with a man and she really don’t want to have sex with him, but she does it anyway, just so she won’t have to hear his damn mouth and to keep the peace. And as far as that last thing you said, I’m sure he has been out there spreading his lil’ dick around to whoever wants it, and I really don’t give a damn. Hell, I need to find her, whoever she is, and thank her for doing the dreadful task that I hated doing.”

“Wait, why do you say having sex with Chauncey was a dreadful task, though?”

“Because having sex with him was boring as hell, that’s why. I haven’t had an orgasm in eight years…eight! Lying there, moaning and groaning, pretending like I was enjoying it, that was all for his benefit…because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings and bruise his ego.”

“Eight years and no orgasm…not even when he licked it?” Danielle exclaimed.

“Did I stutter? Yes, eight years. And no, not even when he licked it. Hell, I hated that more than actually having sex with him. I got so tired of lying there rolling my eyes while he was down there, swearing up and down he was doing really something. I rolled my eyes so much, I’m surprised I didn’t sit up cross-eyed by the time he was done.”

“Hell, at least he was licking it. Most black men claim not to do it.”

“Well, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing, so he might as well had not even bothered. Listen, if I don’t get up from that bed wobbling like a baby calf, he didn’t do it right. I could have definitely done without it.”

“Well, what about his stroke game?”

“Girl, hold on…I’ma need some more wine for this conversation. Give me a minute.” 

I got up and ran to the fridge, grabbed the bottle of Barefoot Sweet Red wine, and ran back to the living room. I poured some into my glass and took a long sip before I resumed my conversation with Danielle. “Okay, I’m back now.”

“Okay, so about his stroke game?”

“Yeah, well, that wasn’t too much better. Now, I wasn’t tripping on his size…I’m not one of those women who get all googly-eyed over a big dick; it’s how well you use what you got that impresses me, know what I’m saying? So yeah, Chauncey wasn’t working with the biggest one. God must have gotten tired when He created Chauncey and called it a day at five inches. Like I said, I don’t trip on size. The problem was, he didn’t work too well with what he had. He has absolutely no rhythm, whatsoever. He knows one speed- fast. He don't know a damn thing about making love to a woman... going slow, long-stroking it sometimes. All he knew was that jack rabbit shit…humping all in me like he was trying to race to the finish line and get his before I did. Ugh, I hated it.”

Danielle giggled on the other end of the phone. “You’re a mess, Simone.”

“I’m just telling the truth. I mean, I like a quickie every now and then, but not all the damn time. That three minute lovin’ all the time just didn’t do it for me. At the same time, he was so bad and insensitive, I never wanted it to last more than that. I’d used to tell him to hurry up and finish so I could go on about my damn business.”

“No you didn’t?!”

“Yes, I did. I hated fucking his ass. You should have heard him...groaning all loud, sounding like a damn grizzly bear when he came; that combined with those weird ass faces he’d make when he called himself looking into my eyes during sex seriously irked my soul. I just couldn’t deal. It got to the point where when I did give him some, I’d always turn around and let him hit it from the back…just so I wouldn’t have to look at him, and he wouldn’t see what I was thinking…cause you know my facial expressions always tell my true thoughts, even when I’m trying to pretend to be cool.”

“Wow…it was really that bad?”

Before I could answer Danielle, I hear Chauncey pull up outside. I always heard him before I saw him, because for some reason, he felt the need to turn the volume up on his car stereo up as high as it would go, disturbing the whole damn neighborhood, like the younger guys did. Music be so loud it vibrates the pictures on the wall. I never understood the point of that. That’s one of Chauncey’s problems- he still thinks he’s young. He never grew up, and I’ve wasted eight and a half years of my life, thinking he would sooner or later. 

“Danielle, let me call you back, girl; his ass just pulled up.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later; bye!”

Current W.I.P. Coming Soon

Excited about one of my current works in progress. I've never been big on writing series, mainly because there are so many of them out there, but I'm going to give it a shot. The name of the series is Unexpected Situations, and there will be at least 3 books (maybe more because I've already gotten attached to the characters) I've included the blurb below. Stay tuned..

Unexpected Situations Synopsis:

After eight and a half years of pretending to be happily married, Simone O’Neal suddenly finds herself unexpectedly divorced and tossed back into the pool of single women, all fighting tooth and nail to nab the few good men that are left. An almost forty year old divorcée and single mom, she knows the odds are completely stacked against her to find a man who has a legal job, is handsome, isn’t psycho, hasn’t been to jail (or on his way there) and who can put it down in the bedroom.

Although she’s in no hurry to jump back into another marriage any time soon, her failed attempt at living happily ever after hasn’t completely turned her heart cold against all men. However, moving on with her life in hopes of finding her ex-husband, Chauncey’s potential replacement may be harder than expected, due to the fact that he continues to hover above her like a dark cloud, throwing all kinds of salt in her game. Is she done with Chauncey for good? Will she ever have sex again? Find out in this series full of unexpected situations. 

Get Ready To 1-click A Chance Seduction: Cover Reveal

After playing around with a few ideas, this is the final cover that I created for my latest novel, A Chance Seduction. This is my favorite book that I've written, and my best, if I do say so myself. I have grown so much as an author, and it'll show in this novel. While readers have always said I definitely can tell a good story, they need a little more character development...so I feel that I delivered this time around. I've included an excerpt for you to read below as I patiently wait on the powers that be at Amazon to give the green light to start 1-clicking. Enjoy!

Excerpt: 

“Didn’t your mama ever teach you that it’s not polite to stare?” Imani asked as she walked towards him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it; the view was too nice for me to look away. I don’t know many men who wouldn’t stare at an ass like yours,” he said in the most seductive voice he could muster up.

Imani smirked as she reached for his handheld computer so she could sign for her package. Something about knowing that Chance had been staring at her made her and that he was obviously a little flustered, made her happy.

“You’re such a smooth-talker; I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Yes…but this time, I mean it. As a matter of fact, all you really need to do is look down to see how much of an effect you had on me just now.” he responded.

Imani shifted her eyes downward. Her eyes widened when she looked at his crotch and saw the bulge pushing against his work pants. She gulped hard to keep from drooling, and without realizing it, she licked her lips. Daamnn! Why was it so hot in there all of a sudden? 

“You want this?” Chance asked walking towards her.

“Yes, I want all of it,” she answered. The naughty thought she’d had in her mind slipped out of her mouth, instead, and she wished she could take her words back.

Chance laughed out loud. “I’m flattered; but I was referring to the box; do you want it here, or would you like me to take it to the back for you?” 

“Oh!” She felt sooo stupid at the moment. You really need to get it together, girl. “Y-you can set it here on the table, I guess.” Did she really just tell this man she wanted his dick? She couldn’t even look at him as she reached for the box he was holding. Her fingers brushed against his as he handed it to her, and she could swear he deliberately grabbed her finger. She looked up at him, and saw the unmistakable lust in his eyes. Her breathing picked up as they stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds. She nervously licked her lips, which had suddenly become dry. 

“Do you always lick your lips when you’re nervous?” Chance asked her.

“Who said I’m nervous?” Imani asked as she set the box on top of one of the dining tables. She attempted to use her nails to peel back the packaging tape from the top of the box. 

“Let me help you,” Chance said. He came up beside her and removed a box cutter from his pocket. Imani admired his muscular forearms as he opened the box. She wanted to use her tongue and trace the veins that snaked down the insides of them. When he turned to face her, she got a whiff of his cologne. Curve. She recognized it immediately. Kyle used to wear that same cologne. For some reason, it smelled so much better on Chance, though. 

Whenever Kyle would wear this cologne- before she found out what a snake he was- it used to instantly turn her on. There was something about this men’s fragrance that was so seductive, and those same urges she used to get when Kyle wore it, she was starting to get them now. Not realizing that she was doing it, she leaned in closer to Chance, inhaling his scent. Damn, he smells so good. She wanted to lean in closer, smell his neck, and maybe even lick it. Would he think she was weird if she did that? 

“You want me, don’t you?” Chance’s deep baritone brought her back to the present, and to the realization that she really didn’t like him as a person. Yes, he was fine- nobody could take that away from him- but he was extremely arrogant and conceited, traits she hated in a man.

“No…not at all,” she said nonchalantly as she began looking through the contents of the box; trying to act as if she hadn’t wanted to jump his bones a few seconds earlier.

“Your eyes say differently; and the eyes never lie,” Chance told her.

Imani ignored him, and instead removed one of the Cabernet flute glasses from the box. “These are perfect,” she said. She let her delicate fingers glide over the narrow stem, then traced the finely cut sheer rim at the top of the glass.

“What I wouldn’t give to be that glass right now,” Chance said.

She looked at him in annoyance. “You’re still here? I thought you left.”

“You really want me to leave?” he asked taking a step closer to her. He looked down at her beautiful face. Her burgundy colored lips were slightly parted, and he could hear her shallow breathing. She looked up at him from under her big, doe eyes for a second, then dropped her gaze to his lips before looking back up at him again. She nervously looked around. He was in her personal space, and he had her body trapped between his and the table. Him being so close to her made her extremely nervous. She licked her lips again.

“I let you get away with that the last time, but there’s only so much teasing a man can take. Why do you insist on tempting me like that, Imani?”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you mean,” she said in confusion.

“You keep licking your lips. When I see you glide your tongue across your lips, all I can wonder is what it would feel like gliding across me.”

Instinctively, her eyes dropped to the spot between his thighs again. “Oh,” was all she could say. Great minds think alike, because I wonder the exact same thing. 

“Why don’t you stop playing this game, Imani?”

“What game?”

“Pretending like you don’t want me as much as I want you. We both know that‘s bullshit.”

Chance being in such close proximity to her, and the seductive smell of his Curve cologne put her under his spell. His gaze was intense, his breathing was hard and fast, and he looked as if he wanted to take her right here on the dining table. The bad part about it was, she couldn’t even lie, the thought of that excited her. She stared him in the eye, as if she were daring him to make the first move.

Luckily, the enchantment was broken when Raymond called out to her from the kitchen, freeing her from the erotic voodoo Chance had her under. She placed her hand on his chest and lightly pushed him away, putting some space between them. “Who said it was a game?” she asked as she turned and folded the flaps on the box closed. Without saying another word, she stepped around him and walked towards the kitchen, leaving Chance there with a puzzled expression. He had been sure that Imani had been about to give in and let him give her a taste of what would happen once he got her alone. 

“One more thing before you go,” he called to her.

Imani stopped walking and turned to face him. “What?”

“You can have this,” he dropped his eyes towards the lower half of his body, “anytime you want. Just say the word.” He walked away before she could respond to what he’d just said. As he climbed into his truck, he thought about what had just happened. Had Imani been any other woman, they would be in her office, fucking each other’s brains out on the desk. She was definitely good at this hard-to-get game she was playing. He loved a challenge as much as the next man, but he wasn’t used to having to work this hard or wait this long to get a woman, and he was beginning to lose interest and patience with her... 

Teaser Tuesday: A Chance Seduction

A Chance Seduction... Coming Soon