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The Office Wife, Issue 3

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The Office Wife, Issue 3

The Office Wife, March 11, 2017, Issue 3, Olivia Gaines

Manigault Hurley, R & D

A quiet Tuesday morning ensued as Vicki made coffee in the breakroom for whichever members of the board who were in the office that day.  Although the suggestion box requested, almost daily, the purchase of one of those machines with the little pods, it was not economical to purchase so many expensive packages, to make one cup of coffee at a time.  Besides, the pods left a medicinal taste on her tongue.  It wasn’t as if she were a coffee purist, but there was no reason to ruin a good cup of Joe, with a plastic cup of ground nonsense.

Speaking of nonsense, Vicki checked her inbox to find five invitations for lunch from Konnie with a K who had an unnatural fascination with personal organizers and Washi tape. Twice in the last two days, Vicki found stickers with Washi tape in her office mail box.  Konnie was like a naughty little cat who liked to leave dead treats on your pillow.  There was something odd about the young temp in a not so good way.  The Washi tape felt like little dead bodies in coils of bright colors left for her to see every other day.   To make matters worse, somehow, Konnie found out today was her birthday.

A roll of Washi tape with little balloons and cakes sat on her desk with a card, when opened spit out a puff of multi-colored confetti. It was all over her desk.  By the time lunch rolled around, Vicki’s futile attempts to rid herself of the meddlesome colorful dots only resulted in confetti in her hair and stuck to her neck and face. Taneeka, her office best friend of only a month, sent her a text message with an image of her face, frozen in laughter. 

Vicki’s phone binged.  It was another text with an image from Taneeka.

Tmanigaulthis image was of her nose, taped upwards, Miss Piggy style with a bright strip of Washi tape.  It was comical.  However, it wasn’t as comical as the image of Manigault Hurley, standing in front of her desk dressed like a character from Monty Python.

“Allow me, Ms. Lawrence, to take you to lunch on this special day of your birth,” he said with his lips pressed together as if her were holding in a wad a slobber and a chunk of peanut butter in his cheeks like a deranged chipmunk.

“Thank you Mr. Hurley, but I can’t today,” she tried backing away from the offer.

“Nonsense,” he said, leaning back rubbing his little flat stomach. “It is your birthday.  If you don’t have plans, and based on that lunch bag, I can only assume you don’t, then allow me to treat you to a lovely lunch at my club.”

He was right.  Her lunch bag held left over take out from the Chinese restaurant around the corner from her house, which always had too many onions, which gave her horrific gas. She didn’t want to eat what was in her bag any more than she wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon finding discrete places to poot.

“Come, it will be grand.  My driver will take us over to the club, you can order whatever you want, and I will have a lovely cake ordered just for your special day,” Manigault told her.

He seemed like a nice man who reminded her of Grandpa Lawrence.  She hoped he didn’t have the same sense of humor though. Her Grandpa Lawrence, for fun, enjoyed taking his teeth out in church to make lewd gestures with his tongue to the ladies in the choir, but he never followed up on any of his suggestive behaviors.  She prayed Manigault was the same way.

“Sure, it would be nice to join you for lunch on my birthday.  I am certain you are going to make this a day to remember,” she responded.

“No, I am going to treat you to a good meal,” he told her with an expressionless face.

Vicki was just crossing into the three-month mark at American Conglomerate. Thus far, based on what she’d seen, clicks and grouplings were formed, but Manigault stood out from the crowd.  He was a man of what appeared to be impeccable breeding, ridiculously good taste paired with a reputation without flaw. From what she could gather, his private life, was indeed very private. His desk held no personal photos, momentous, only documentation of his life at American Conglomerate.

mani 2

“Perfect, I will meet you downstairs at my car at 11:45, please don’t be late,” he cautioned.

Vicki looked down at her watch.  It was 11:15. She had thirty minutes to prepare herself for what she knew was going to be a drawn-out conversation on his bug collection from New Guinea or worse, a long-winded montage on the down fall of the black man. This was usually followed by an invitation to make her life easier by offering her a key to his love pad downtown, or worse, a tiny ranch house in the Valley right below Rancho Cucamonga. Suddenly her appetite waned the same moment her desk phone rang. It was Taneeka.

“Hey!” She said to Vicki.

“Hey back,” she said slowly.

“Happy Birthday,” Taneeka said quickly. “Drinks on me after work if you can make it.”

“If it is close by at a local watering hole and on my way home, I could sip on something to cut the edges off my glitter infused morning,” she replied.

“Just don’t sip or suck on anything during lunch. I heard old men give you bugs,” Taneeka joked.

“I think he is just being nice, considering he knows no one else on this floor or team is going to do anything for my special day,” Vicki mumbled.

“You never know,” Taneeka said.  “No seriously, you never know, he could be taking you out to set you up for the old rope a dope.”

“As in…a surprise on my desk when I get back?”

“No, he is going to show you that an old stove still has a hot pipe,” she told Vicki.

“Just when I started to like you a little,” Vicki chided.

“Well, hurry up. Manigault hates it when people are late plus, I am dying to find out what this lunch thing is about,” she said.

“Okay…whatever, have fun at my painful expense,” she said before saying goodbye and ending the call.

At least I get a decent meal out of it. Hurrying to the ladies to room to take care of her necessities, she washed her face, fluffed her hair and applied a little lipstick before heading to the first floor.  Manigault had said driver. She failed to ask what his driver would be driving. Once she stepped out of the door, she quickly saw.

The classic Bentley was manned by a very large Asian gentleman who remined her of the James Bond villain with the bowler hat that could decapitate a man. I wish I could remember the villian’s name. Her fingers involuntarily went to her neck, caressing the soft skin.  The door was opened for her as she tugged a little on the red dress she chose to wear this morning, even considering it was bordering on too little for her curvy body.  The dress made her feel pretty even if on the inside, she felt like sludge.  The three-inch heels added a bit of height to her frame, as she slid her bottom into the car seat first, swinging well-toned legs around to face the front.  Manigault appeared to be pleased. It was more of a move to protect her modesty from the eyes of the driver.  He didn’t need to see the hot red lacy undies.

“Thank you for joining me,” Manigault told her.

“It is I who should be thanking you,” she said sweetly.

He only nodded, pulled out his phone, and began to make notes in a pocket note book as they drove to the Lakeside Country Club in Burbank.  The drive was short, his body was tense as the car came to a stop in front of what looked like the main entrance.  His glasses came down from his face.

“Wait for me to come escort you,” he said.

The driver opened his door first. Manigault inhaled sharply, exhaling what sounded like frustration as he stood, leisurely walking around the car to open Vicki’s door. A well-manicured hand reached inside the car asking for her to join him.  Luckily, she’d just gotten a mani and pedi herself as her hand slid into his, coming out of the car, to stand at his side.  He wrapped her arm into his as they made their way into the main building.

Vicki learned something new about Manigault that day. She found out that he was Hollywood royalty.  Everywhere he turned, people were bending over to almost kiss his ass.  He held his head high, walking as if he didn’t see any of the little people as they passed making their way to a private dining area. This pushed Vicki to do the only thing she knew to do, play along. Whatever was happening here was in the now. She was being audition for a role she wasn’t certain she wanted to play.

Over lunch of rock crab claws, something drenched in champagne, and a dollop of mashed potatoes, she said nothing as they ate in silence.  On occasion, she would look up at him in well placed intervals and smile. His face did not move the first time she did it.  The second time she smiled at him, she added a wink.

It got a reaction out of him.

Brief, but small, Manigault’ s eyes smiled back at her.

Three young men, all waist staff, were gawking at them all throughout lunch. Someone snapped a photo which infuriated Manigault to no end, who raised his hand, and three managers materialized like ghostly apparitions awaiting his bidding.

“My lady friend and I value our privacy.  Whoever it was who snapped the photo, I know you will assure me it will not be seen anywhere?” He asked the manager as he got to his feet. He held out his hand for Vicki to come to his side in a show of outrage by the staff’s actions.

“Of course, Mr. Hurley, we will take care of it,” the manager lied.

Vicki held his arm, lips pouting out like an upset child, looking at the manager. In a childlike voice, she asked him, “Manigault, they are not going to sell our pictures to the papa-pazzi are they?”

“Paparazzi dear,” he said to her.

“Oh yeah.  Pappa-prazzi,” he said trying to mimic him.

Manigault looked at the manager, “See that they don’t.”

Vicki, to add fuel to the fire, pushed up on her right breast with her hand, as if to shift its attention toward the door as she took Manigault’ s arm squeezing it for support, she held her head high and walked out the door.  She added a bit more swish to her hips, stomping her feet like a runway model until they reached the car.

Bottom in first, she swung her legs around as the driver closed her door.  She waited patiently for Manigault to entered the other side of the car, turning to face her with a gigantic grin on his face.  Vicki shuddered.  In three months’ time, she’d never seen him so happy.

“Mr. Hurley, you do know that photo is going to be everywhere by 6 am.  It will be all over social media and every one will be trying to figure out who I am,” she said to him. “It never dawned on me that you were the Manigault Hurley.”

“One and the same.  I love my job at American Conglomerate and I am very good at it.  I allow my family to handle the Hollywood stuff and I make public appearances with unknown pretty girls on my arm to keep the family’s name in the papers,” he said.

He’d told her enough, she understood.

“How many country clubs do you belong to?”

“Unfortunately, four.  I visit one each week,” he said. “I love the months with five weeks because then I get a break.”

Vicki started to smile.

“Why are you grinning?”

“Because, if I get three nice wigs, I get a free lunch at an exclusive country club for the rest of the month,” she said with a wink.

“You’re good,” he told her with a larger smile.

“I thought you’d get a kick out of my Papa-pazzi comment,” she grinned.

“That was a nice touch,” he said patting her hand.

The drive back to the office passed in silence until they reached the front door of American Conglomerate. Manigault touched her hand.

“Ms. Vicki, you are a very astute young woman.  I trust the details of our day will be kept in confidence?”

“Mr. Hurley, in my current position, everything I see, touch, feel or understand goes to my grave.”

“So, this is safe with you?”

“It will be as safe as the three wigs you hide under the driver’s seat for the next few Tuesdays,” she said, as she opened her door and stepped out into the Burbank sun.

Vicki did not see Hurley for the remainder of the day, but at 4:45, she’d trained her body to hold on, to make that last stop to the ladies’ room before she headed out at 5:10 each day to sit in traffic trying to get home.  She returned to her desk to find a cupcake along with small black box on her desk with a diamond ring, nothing flashy, but classy in all the right ways.  It had a simple note in bold script.

Keep it in your drawer for our once monthly first Tuesday outings. Enjoy your birthday. –  Hurley

  She’s passed the test.  Whatever the test was, in Manigault’ s eyes, she’d passed it with flying colors. Once monthly outings.  So once a month, on the first Tuesday, she was having lunch or making the rounds with him. Uncertain, yet sure as the corn on her left toe aching when it rained, she had just become something special and significant for Manigault.

mani 3

Oddjob.  That was the Bond character’s name with the bowler hat!

She’d been given an odd job herself. Once a month she would wear a pretty dress, don the ring and escort him on his rounds to ensure he got his name and the family brand on a social network site. Eyeing the ring a final time before securing it, she stood up and stuck it into the office safe  for the next first Tuesday of next month.  However, right now, she was ready to have a drink, celebrate her day of birth first with Taneeka, then her friends at home.

Vicki shrugged.  Technically, Taneeka would be the third person she celebrated with since Konnie had been the first. Either way, it sure beat spending her birthday alone. In her heart, she knew much of his private life, he’d spent that way. If lunch or an outing once a month took some of the pressure off him to be a certain something for his family, she could do that for him.

Everybody needs some body.

She had just become a somebody for Manigault Hurley.

Oddly, I am okay with that.

  • Fin-

Excerpt Two Nights With You: Naima

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Excerpt Two Nights With You: Naima
By Olivia Gaines
Midway through her second boiled egg, breakfast was interrupted by a blond woman sporting a too small bikini which made her assets look like two overripe melons covered by a strip of toilet paper. They bounced as she ran over to the table on her tip toes in high heeled red sandals, too much lipstick and matted weave in her hair. The sarong which clung to her fat injected ass, barely covered the thong bikini bottom as she stopped in front of their table, doing a happy girl spin showing DJ all she had to offer.
“Oh hell no,” Naima said, standing up.
Derrick’s eyes were wide as he watched Naima plant her feet, put her hands on her

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 hips and stand between him and what he knew to be a fan.
“Stop right there,” Naima said. “You see this man dining with me, yet you will be so bold as to interrupt our meal to attempt to lure him into whatever sordid idea has entered your empty head. What is it you want?”
The blond woman opened her mouth to reveal a row of small white teeth. “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect. I am such a fan. I only wanted a picture with him.”
“Where is your phone?” Naima asked.
To her shock, the woman stepped around her, rubbed her large breast going down the side of her body. “I seem to have nowhere to put one in this suit,” she said winking at Derrick. Naima reached back onto the table, picked up the remainder of her drink and dashed into the woman’s face.
“Back up chick,” she said. “No disrespect my ass. You are going to mess around and have me snatch that raggedy weave right out of your head. That is my man, so bounce your fake titties back where you came from and spread the word. He is off limits and mine.” The woman stood there in shock, her mouth open, covered in Naima’s margarita, which pissed her off more than the woman treating her as if she were replaceable when and if Derrick got bored.
“Why are you still standing here? Be gone,” Naima said, sitting back down. Picking up the butter knife, she looked at the woman, daring her to make a move. Turning in the ridiculously red high heels, she and her fake boodie, bounced away.
“Damn. Now my drink is gone. Wasted,” she said with a frown as she cut into the egg. Derrick only watched her, not sure what just happened. Naima sat eating her breakfast as if nothing unusual had occurred.
He cleared his throat.
“What?” She asked, biting into her toast.
“You don’t have any act right in you, do you?”
“Nope. I do possess a very large ass check book and I can buy some when the need arises,” she said with a wink.
Derrick chuckled at the freshness of her attitude.
Different. Very different.
“Thank you for that intervention. I became a bit of a recluse because of those types of encounters with women who immediately think I am some sort of sex machine always on the ready,” he said, looking at her.
“Aww man! You are not always on the ready? There goes my weekend plans,” she said with a twist of her lip.
He found himself smiling.
*****************************
Preorder your copy here

The Office Wife, August, Issue 6

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The Office Wife, August 5, 2017, Issue 6, Olivia Gaines

Willie Johnson-  Manufacturing

A hot mess.

thoughtful african american businessman

“Girl, I don’t know what’s going on with Willie, but all I can say is that man is a hot, sticky mess.  Look at him, his socks don’t even match,” Taneeka James said to Vicki.  True, something major was going on in Willie’s life, but it wasn’t her place to get into the man’s business. However, changes in him were really noticeable to the point Kelson, the chairman of the board asked for Vicki’s help.

“Victoria, I am not certain what is going on with Mr. Johnson, but if he is in need of the Employee Assistance Program, let’s see that he gets down to HR,” Kelson said softly.

The normally, smiling, happy board member who covered the manufacturing arm of American Conglomerate, lately didn’t seem so happy.  The 1,000-watt grin which preceded him into every room he entered, was left outside in the cold and rain.  The man walking around the board room offices, couldn’t find a smile if one were left on his desk wiggling under a wet nap.

Vicki found him on Wednesday morning in the break room, leaning against a wall.  His chin in his hand as he stared at the floor. The round face appeared sunken in as dark circles encased his eyes.  Willie looked like he’d slept in his clothes if, in fact, he had slept at all.

“I know right,” she quipped. “This tile is truly ugly. I am not certain if they company got a deal on it from a congress of out of work baboons, or what.”

Willie didn’t respond.  Vicki tried another approach.  One she hoped would grab his attention.

“I think one of the baboons is coming to replace you in your job since you don’t seem to want it anymore,” Vicki chided.

“They can have it. They can have all of this,” he said, pushing his body from the wall. “I’m tired of it.”

“I get that way sometimes too.  My job can be really tough dealing with so many people.  I have the be the eyes and ears of what only is not seen, but also what is not said. Glue,” she said.

“Glue?”

Vicki had his attention now and a dialogue was started. It wasn’t as if she were expecting him to open up about his life, but at least if she could get him talking, it would lessen the risk of him coming into the office and shooting up the place. Or worse, taking a wrong turn and possibly shooting himself.  The darkness around his eyes was small in comparison to the darkness surrounding his spirit. A blackness which engulfed could almost be felt as she stood by him.

“Yes, Mr. Johnson.  I am the glue which holds the team together. I can see you are in a personal crisis.  There are options available to you at no cost to help you through the darkness to find the light which use to burn so brightly in you,” she said to him.

“Well, my light has been extinguished. This job takes everything from me and by the time I get home, or fly to this state, or that region, I have missed soccer games, dance recitals, and everything else.  My wife is filing for divorce,” he told her.

“Mr. Johnson, I don’t mean to pry so I won’t.  The Employee Assistance Plan offers five free counseling sessions, for you, your wife, and family if need be. You don’t have to go through this alone,” she told him.

“My wife ain’t gonna go for no counseling,” he said, angrily.

“If she is not open to it, then she truly has no interest in saving your marriage, however, if you bring this option to her and she declines, then you will know, this is much deeper than you missing a few soccer games,” she said. “Divorcing you isn’t going to change your schedule or the time you spend with your kids.”

“You don’t know Keisha,” he said frowning.

“No, but what I know of you is that you work hard at every task you are given.  You treat everyone around you with courtesy, respect, and as if they matter. You matter to us, Mr. Johnson.”

“I’m torn Vicki.  In some ways, divorcing her would be an end of all the arguments and stupid fights over socks, the unwrapped butter in the fridge, and me being late for dinner.  Some nights, I am late getting home just because I pray she’d taken her ass to bed. Of course, I walk in and she pops up in the bed like a mole ready to attack. I’m tired of all of it,” he told her.

“If been married was easy, everyone would have a spouse,” she told him.

Willie looked up at her. For the first time since Vicki started, he took a good look at the woman. Although her face was young, the words had been generated by an old soul who had been through a storm. “Free counseling you say?”

“Yes.  It may not save your marriage, but it may well save your sanity,” she added with a smile.  Vicki pulled a brochure from the rack display on the counter handing him the card. “Take the afternoon off, start here and I will let Kelson know you took some personal time today.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

“Get better Mr. Jonson,” she said, heading back to her desk.

Manigault was waiting for her by the office doors. He gave her a smile and a small box of what looked like high-end chocolates.

“You give me a gym membership, yet to take me out for exclusive lunches, now this decadent box of chocolates.  This is a mixed message; are you trying to fatten me up for the slaughter?” She asked him.

“No, that treat is because you are special to all of us Vicki,” he said to her, walking away. 

The monthly luncheons as Manigault’s beard were fun, plus she got to dine in swanky places she wouldn’t be able to afford.  If he was using her, she didn’t care.  It felt nice to be taken care of for once.  He was good at that – taking care of people.

She returned to her desk only to have Kelson popped his head out of his office.

“Did you take care of Mr. Johnson?” He wanted to know.  

“I don’t know if I took care of him per se, but I pointed him in towards the employee counseling service.  He is going to take the afternoon off, Sir,” she said.

“Good. Good,” Kelson said.  “I don’t know what we would do without you, Vicki.”

“You would hire someone else Mr. Herman and life would go on,” she said softly.

“It may go on, Victoria, but it wouldn’t be the same life,” he added going back to his office, closing the door.

gears

Monday arrived without much flair as the day got underway.  The hustling, bustling, building came to life as worker bees piled into the combs, vomiting up honeyed words to tired consumers. Each step was taken, bringing them closer to a collective of serving a hungry public with food, products, and services most of them didn’t really need.

Taneeka found her in the break room making coffee.

“Girl, I don’t know what you said to Willie, but it must have worked, his socks match today and he is smiling,” Taneeka added.

“Glad to hear he is finding his way back,” Vicki said.

“What did he say was the issue?  That wife of his I’d bet,” Taneeka said to her, eyeballing her for a reaction to the ploy for information.

Vicki gave her no response other than, “I didn’t ask what the problem was.”

“You are good,” Taneeka said, arching her brow.

“You have no idea,” Vicki said with a wink. 

She left Taneeka in the kitchen to make her way to the mail room to pick up the daily mail, sort through the massive pile, placing envelopes and packages into mail slots.  It was her habit to have it all sorted and distributed by 8:30, in case there were actionable items.

“Good morning,” a deep voice said to her.

african american construction managerVicki jumped, turning around to see Willie Johnson standing there. The trademark smile back on his face. A yellow hard hat was in his hand which meant he was on his way out to a manufacturing facility.

“And a good morning to you as well Mr. Jonson.  I see you have located your smile,” she told him.

“I went to the session on Wednesday afternoon,” he said.  “I left feeling a whole heap better after talking it out with someone.”

Vicki adjusted her stance to face him, providing him her undivided attention. Everything about him seemed different. The dark circles were gone and he looked rejuvenated.

“I am glad to hear everything went well,” she said.

“Ms. Vicki, it went so well, I made an appointment for Thursday and saw the counselor again,” he added with a huge grin.

“So, is Keisha going to go to a session with you as well?”

“No, she declined,” he said pausing.  “I did, however, take my kids on Friday and they spoke with the counselor as well.  I set up some additional sessions for them individually.  They are going to need it as we go through this process.”

Vicki wanted to know what process he was talking about, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask the question. Instead, she offered a soft, reassuring smile. It was her hopes that he would divulge the answer without her having to pry it out of him.

“I decided that my children deserved better than a woman who refused to face her anger and her own unhappiness. There is no reason for all of us to suffer because she is miserable.  I make a good living and we have a nice home. Each year she gets angrier and angrier at me without a solid reason she can voice. I’m tired of it, so I put her out,” he said.

“Wait, what?”

“Yep, I put her ass out. If she wants to be miserable, she can go and share her whining and misery with her whining and miserable Mother,” he said.

“What about your children?’

“My children are at home where they should be.  I am stepping down from the board seat, going back to my regular job so I can have normal hours. I will be home to get them off to school and there in the evenings to do homework, cook dinner and whatever else they need. My sister is moving in to lend me a hand until I get everything smoothed out through my attorney and I am going to be happy.  More importantly, so will my children without days and nights of a harpy snapping at them and making them feel small.  No child should have to deal with that every day nor any man,” he said. “I just came to say thanks for giving me a push.”

That wasn’t the push she had given.

“As long as you are happy,” she said.

“I am at peace. Peace outweighs happiness any damned day of the week,” he said, patting her arm.

Whistling, she watched him walk out the door, his back rigid, the steps aimed with purpose. The Employee Assistance Program really helped her after she lost her mother, and the counselors were top notched.  She was pleased that Willie found a path so quickly, but a selfish moment, grazed her thigh, asking for attention.  His departure meant a new board member had to be appointed before the scheduled changing of the guard.

“Lint balls,” she mumbled.  Now she would have to deal with a new personality on the team. She’d barely gotten accustomed to the current thirteen, now a new cog would be added to the wheel housing. Completing the mail sorting, she returned to her desk, checking her calendar to find the best days to set up interviews for Kelson to find Willie Johnson’s replacement.

It was all in a day’s work.  Today was a work day and she had loads to handle, both big and small. Vicki saw no need to put any of it off as she set the timer, and tackled the piles on her desk. Finding happiness was difficult, but at the end of the day what mattered most, was having peace.  Willie as right, peace outweighed happiness any damned day of the week.

young african american businessman

– Fin-

What I am reading: The Talon of God

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The acclaimed actor makes his fiction debut with this enthralling urban fantasy in which a holy warrior must convince a doctor with no faith to help stop a powerful demon and his minions from succeeding in creating hell on earth—a thrilling adventure of science and faith, good and evil, damnation and salvation.

Imagine that everyone you have ever known or loved was forced against their will into a state of demonic possession and spiritual slavery. Imagine an unholy cabal of the world’s richest and most powerful men directing this sinister plan in order to cement their unbridled control of the planet.

Imagine two heroes emerging from that darkness to do battle with the forces of evil.

Set in the mean streets of Chicago, Talon of God is the action-packed adventure centered around the Lauryn Jefferson, a beautiful young doctor who is dragged into a seemingly impossible battle against the invisible forces of Satan’s army and their human agents that are bent on enslaving humanity in a mission to establish the kingdom of hell on Earth.

But Lauryn is a skeptic, and it’s only as she sees a diabolical drug sweep her city and begins to train in the ways of a spirit warrior by the legendary man of God, Talon Hunter, that she discovers her true nature and inner strength. Facing dangerous trials and tests, it’s a true baptism by fire. And if they fail, millions could die. And rivers of blood would flow throughout the land.

Imagine such horror. Such pain. And imagine what it would take to fight against it. For only the strongest and most faithful will survive?

Get ready. Armageddon approaches quickly.

A bit pricey, but available on Kindle.

The Blakemores are Back

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blakemore 9 cover kindlePssttt…. In this episode, the Blakemores head to St. Lucia for a much needed vacation only to run into a woman from Saxton’s past. Things take an odd turn as Copperhead enters the scene challenging everything Odessa believes.
Climb aboard for a Vacation with the Blakemores on the next to the last chapter of the adventure into love.

Meet Naima…Two Nights with You.

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1This is an interesting character for me to write.  I think you guys are going to love this novel and the way the story unfolds for Naima and Derrick Jackson, best known throughout the world as DJ Most, a famous R & B crooner.

Unlike most of the female characters I write who are looking for a life change and someone to fall in love with, Naima is the opposite.  She doesn’t want to fall in love.  

She doesn’t even want a relationship.

She is a flirt.

Her career is everything to her.

The idea of a family is not on her radar and she has not interest in having children. The woman doesn’t even like dogs.  She doesn’t want one of those either.

However, Derrick has subtle way of changing her mind about life, love and the possibility of a future with him.

This is a rich story with full bodied characters who understand not only where they are in life, but more importantly, where they don’t want to go, or rather end up.  In Two Nights with You, a chance encounter half way around the world, becomes a spark to very hot flame, which neither can deny.

Derrick give her courage to make a life change.

Naima give him courage to change his life.

In the end, two nights just may turn into a lifetime.

Come fall in love with me; the best is yet to be.

Pre-order for $.99 for three dynamic novels.

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Two Nights with You…in Tahiti

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Have you ever wanted to simply get away from it all?

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Yeah, me too.  I have a new project with to dynamic authors. 

The three of us are old college pals who have lied to each other about keeping in touch.  As close  friends, we haven’t done a really great job, but we have an idea. We are going to form a travel club.

Two nights, twice a year, we get together.

You know. To get away from it all.

My character, Naima Russell has a very powerful and affluent friend who just happens to have a plane. Ronald Geffen, a music industry God, has a trip scheduled to Tahiti, but unfortunately, his schedule has a last minute conflict, and he can’t make it.  Naima can.

She invites her two good friends, Leah and Yuri.

That is all I am going to tell you for right now.  The novels don’t come out until September, but you can pre-order it here for only $.99.  The actual book price will be $3.99. 

Sooooo….this is the hotel we are staying at in Tahiti.

Moorea Value

I know, so amazing.  I started looking for things our characters can do while we are on the island for two days. This is what I came up with…I think you are going to like it. No, I am not going to tell you which of these adventures we partake in.

Surf Lessons. Then I saw the surf.  #NOPE

Tahiti, Teahupoo

Maybe something a bit more tame, like hiking. This is nice and I won’t drown.

Hiking Tour

This looks cool until I thought about Steve Irwin. #nope

Moorea Day Tour

I believe this is more my speed. Hmm…wine or Corona? That’s the hardest decision I want to make; not should I die after this wave bitch slaps me or will that dolphin want to mate with me.

Moorea Day Tour

OMGEEEE, I just inked. Post card.

Moorea Day Tour

The one on the left, his name is Whan-Na Com En LeiMe. #surethingpal  Food is always good. Besides, there are no dishes to wash.  Just a piece of fruit on a leaf. Maybe I will pull some leaves off the Magnolia in my yard and pass out ribs at the next cook out.  here ya’ go!

Moorea Day Tour

Moorea Day Tour

Fine dining is good too! I don’t know what that is, but I want some. There is chocolate and nuts. I ‘m good.

Le Coco's RestaurantLe Coco's Restaurant

We can get all romantic and stuff.

Le Coco's Restaurant

Or I can just be driven around in a 4 x 4.

Tahiti Island 4x4 Safari

Either way, I can’t wait to spend Two Nights with You in Tahiti…maybe one more stop.  I will let you know.

 

 

 

 

 

What I am Reading: June 2017

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In my Kindle this month are some goodies.

Burned In Shadows (Shadow Unit Book 2) Kindle Edition

Burned In Shadows (Shadow Unit Book 2) by [Eden, Tigris]Royce Zarides has accepted his hand dealt by fate. He’s loved and left far too many women. In the bedroom that is. But one kiss from Belinda Raine Ignis was all it took for his eyes to open. Is she really the woman meant for him and his brother Ronin?

Or will history only repeat itself?

That’s the million dollar question he doesn’t want to answer. Ronin does not believe that Belinda is for him and his brother. But one night with her isn’t enough. Even when he sees her for who and what she really is, Ronin still has a hard time expressing his emotions where Belinda is concerned, and time is running out now that she’s to ascend to the status of Matria of the Phoenix Enclave. Belinda (Bells) Ignis is good at ignoring men. She’s had her share of heartache.

Jilted at the altar by her first love, she’s sworn all men off for good. Her mother and Matria of her community has other plans in mind, as well as the Zarides brothers. When faced with the heated glances of Ronin and the smooth tongue of Royce, what’s a girl to do?

The clock is ticking down for certain members of the Shadow Unit. Draven assumed dead, leaves a sour taste in everyone’s mouth. Jes’ new found abilities make for a great addition to the team. But when things seem to settle, they only get worse, as the team sets out to discover the origins of Mr. Black and the notorious Red Sun Organization. Secrets are uncovered and deals are made that result in a deadly blow to all involved.

**This is a Multicultural PNR Erotic Romance** Menage, Light BDSM

Available in Kindle Unlimited


F**K Sugar Friday: A Sassy Little Guide to Supercharging Your Life by Saying “No” to Sugar One Day a Week Kindle Edition

F**K Sugar Friday: A Sassy Little Guide to Supercharging Your Life by Saying "No" to Sugar One Day a Week by [Roop, Jessica]In a (naturally sugar-free) nutshell, F**K Sugar Friday will:

    • Help you easily reduce your sugar consumption
    • Turn you into an informed sugar consumer
    • Give you the structure and support you need to make eating less sugar a sustainable commitment
    • Supercharge your life and health in ways that go beyond eating less sugar (I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve for this—you’ll learn more in the book)

Best of all, it’s all built on a base of a little cursing and plenty of fun.

Are you ready? Wait—one more thing. Just so you know, I have a ton of experience with saying “no” to sugar. I’ll give you the details in the book, but trust me when I say I’ve got your back with this whole eat-less-sugar thing.

To supercharge your life by telling sugar “f**k you” (trust me, it deserves it)

Free June 1 on Kindle.


March (In Her Shoes) Kindle Edition