Sample Sunday- The Ex Factor from The Ex Chronicles Anthology

“So, how’s Michelle and those adorable babies?”

Taye rolled his eyes. “The kids are fine.” 

“Uh oh…I know that look. What’s wrong, trouble on paradise island?” 

They found a bench and sat down to rest for a minute. 

“I’m trying, Brie; I really am. But, she just keeps pushing me. You know I just got her a new car not too long ago, right?” 

“Yeah, you mentioned that the last time we talked.” 

“Well, she had the nerve to tell me tonight that she wants another car…just because her best friend got another one. I try not to call her the b-word, but that’s exactly what she acts like- a spoiled, lazy, entitled… b-word.” 

Brie laughed. “That’s what you get for picking up chicks in the club. You’re having second thoughts about taking that big booty in the tight dress home now, huh?” 

“Are you trying to make me feel better? Because it’s not helping,” Taye said with a pout.

“Aww…I’m sorry. Actually, I’m not; but I’ll keep my thoughts and opinions about Michelle to myself.” 

Brie had never liked Michelle, nor did she think she was the right woman for Taye, and she’d told him that…right up until the day he married her; but he’d told her he wanted to make an honest woman of Michelle since she had his babies, a decision he was now regretting, obviously.

“Hey, remember that pact we made back in high school?” Brie asked him as she stuffed the last of her pretzel in her mouth and washed it down with some ice cold lemonade.

Taye laughed. “Yep, I remember it. We said if we weren’t married by the time we both turned thirty, we were marrying each other. I also remember that was the night you took my virginity.”

“Hold up, I didn’t take it…you gave it to me. You were a horny fifteen year old, and you couldn’t wait to get some, because all your friends were already doing it. Anyway, you’re married now, so…” she let her words linger.

“Yeah…but if things don’t change, I won’t be for long.”

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!”

Sample Sunday...an excerpt from my upcoming novel: Sweet Taboo

Hey y'all..am I the only one who is glad Christmas has come and gone? I don't know why, but I just couldn't find my Christmas spirit this year, but oh well. 

Today, I want to give you a little sample of a novel that I wrote earlier this year. I had plans to have it released by the publishing company I was briefly signed to, but when those plans fell through, it's just been sitting in limbo (along with a few other projects I've started). Something kept telling me that I should not let this book just sit there in my computer documents, collecting dust, so I made the decision to self-publish it. **this is not the final version, scenes may be changed before book is released**

Synopsis:

The clock is ticking and Naomi Henderson is running out of time. Her 20 year class reunion is quickly approaching, and she’s determined to have a husband to flaunt in her ex-best friend and arch-nemesis, Laura Nixon’s, face. 

After a string of failed romances and bad luck forces Naomi to move back in with her widowed father, she’s shocked to find that not only does her dad have a new woman in his life, she’s white. As the family blends together, Naomi meets her step-mother’s nephew, Matthew. Not impressed in the least bit by her new family members, she wants nothing to do with these new people who have taken up space in her dad’s life and home. But no matter how much she tries to avoid Matt, the romantic tension between them is undeniable.  

Just when it looks like Matt has potential to be her white knight in shining armor, tragedy strikes, and Naomi quickly learns that while love may be blind, color isn’t. She’ll be forced to choose between the man she loves and a society that still isn’t accepting of interracial relationships once racism rears it’s ugly head.

Excerpt:

As soon as I made it downstairs, I knew something was odd. The television was on and there was noise coming from the kitchen. With daddy and Donna already gone, I thought someone had decided to break in. I looked around, trying to find something to protect myself with. My eyes focused on the iron fireplace tool set. 

I quickly ran over and grabbed one, then slowly made my way into the kitchen. Tightly gripping the long handle of the shovel, I crept towards the kitchen on my tippy toes. 

The refrigerator door was open and whoever was in here was humming a song to himself. Robbers are bold these days, I thought. They break in a persons home, then decided to raid the fridge and fix a damn snack before they leave…where they do that at? My heart was beating really fast, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead in anticipation of what was about to happen. Whoever was in the kitchen was either going to kill me, or I was going to kill him, but I wasn’t going out without a fight.

The intruder closed the refrigerator door just as I held the shovel over my head, ready to strike. We both yelled once we saw each other. I’m the take action first, ask questions later, type of girl, so I brought the shovel down hard over the head of who I now saw was a white guy, who was wearing only boxer brief underwear as soon as he closed the fridge and turned around.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my father’s house?” I yelled, preparing to hit him over the head again.

He held his head with a painful look on his face. “Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m asking the questions here, and you still haven’t answered mine.” I went to strike him again, but he managed to grab the shovel before I hit him. 

He tossed the shovel across the room. The spot where I’d hit him over the head was already turning a dark purplish color. “I’m Matt. Do you always go around assaulting people with fireplace tools?”

“Do you always break into people’s homes then decided to fix yourself something to eat before you go, while wearing nothing but your damn drawers?” I shot back.

“First of all, I didn’t break in here. My aunt gave me her key. I’m staying here for a couple of weeks while my place is being painted and…”

“Your aunt? Who, Donna?”

“She’s the only aunt I have who lives here,” he snapped sarcastically while rubbing his forehead.

I simply stared in shock. Daddy hadn’t mentioned anything about this to me. “My father didn’t mention anything to me about you being here while they’re gone.”

“That’s because you were already asleep by the time I got here last night.”

My mouth was still open in shock, but it was also open for another reason. Matt was fine as hell! My eyes did a quick scan of his body, from head to toe. The very first thing I noticed about him were his piercing blue eyes and the sexy, smoldering squint he had, which kind of reminded me of how Clint Eastwood used to look in those old Western movies I used to watch sometimes with daddy. He had a tanned, buff chest, chiseled abs, and the bulge between his legs that was covered by the thin cotton material, was quite large and very noticeable.

“Oh,” was all I could say. I felt a little a little silly and embarrassed that I’d ran up in here like a mad woman and hit him over the head. “I’m sorry for hitting you; I thought you were a burglar.”

He pushed past me, bumping my shoulder as he walked by, still holding his head. “Whatever. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find something for this headache I have now, thanks to your freaking paranoia.”

“I said I was sorry,” I yelled as I watched him as he walked out of the kitchen. He has a nice butt, too. Wait, what am I doing? I don’t know this boy from Adam. He could be lying. I headed upstairs in search of my cell phone. I needed to talk to daddy, ASAP. 

Sample Sunday: A Chance Seduction

 A CHANCE SEDUCTION AVAILABLE NOW ON KINDLE

EXCERPT:

“Can I help you?” Imani’s voice snapped him out of his inappropriate daydream.

“I…uh…yeah; I have a package for you?” he stuttered. What the hell is wrong with you, man? his inner voice said. Chance, the irresistible ladies man is at a loss for words…I can’t believe it. 

Chance shook whatever effect Imani had on him off, and got himself together. No woman had even been able get and keep his attention like this…not with her clothes on. Imani hadn’t even done anything particularly sexy, yet he extremely turned on right now.

“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 ass, 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?...