Author: missjenkinsbooks

There is not much to say about me. I wish I could say with honesty that writing was a destiny that simply fell into my lap; that I was meant to do this and in the next year or so my name will be written on the skyline; that I will be sitting on Oprah’s couch on her Next Chapter; and my work will be the next block buster. But I cannot. I will not. I am a 28-no excuse me, 29 year old woman with a long list of dreams and goals that have only been recently introduced to the light. So, what is there to say about me? Well, I used to write poems that eventually turned into song lyrics back in my teen years which led me to believe that I was going to be a ghostwriter for the likes of Destiny’s Child. Clearly that never happened. Just like every other passing whim of a dreamy eyed girl those words disappeared back into the ether perhaps to be syphoned back into the third dimension by some other dreamer with the heart to pursue their vision. And then I unwillingly became an adult: and one can only guess how the cycle went; relationships, a relationship that eventually led to a child and a tumultuous road of ups and downs and disappointment. And then I got over myself and picked myself up. I put away the pen and sought more practical pursuits like giving college a final attempt. I decided to go through the for profit route: Westwood College. There, I was able to receive my Bachelors of Science in Criminal Justice in three years leaving me feeling like my victory in accomplishing something was hollow. Now what? I drifted. I did what adults have to do to take care of their families. I struggled, and in that struggle forgot about my ambitions on changing the world through some sort of activism to just hoping to land that position that would provide me with the stability that I was searching for. Throughout the pursuit of my education I was encouraged to write. “You’re an excellent story teller,” came one instructor. “Help me with my paper,” came a fellow student. I know, I know how does this relate to this particular point in my life? Looking back, I remembered. I remembered how much I enjoyed a good read. I remembered the many nights that my muse would haunt me with visions of vibrant and amazing characters begging me to bring them to life; to give them a story and a name and a purpose. I fought with myself; denying this sudden urge to become my own creator because I did not believe that I could write; and that my writing could affect someone somehow. I jotted down my ideas lest they end up forgotten and kept them safe until I was ready. So, I bought a laptop, and it could not have come at a better time because as I was struggling with a great deal of emotional conflicts, I wrote an urban drama entitled Love At Last. Once that was accomplished, I gave one of the most challenging characters I created her story in Nubia Rising. As a fan of the L.A. Banks Vampire Huntress Legends series, I was inspired after her death in 2011 to create my own heroine. A heroine that would live on long after my time on earth is complete; and in that discovery, and in all of the hours of reading and research and bible studies (yes, Bible studies), I found her path which inevitably is my path. My journey as an author and as an individual rests within that of the supernatural; the paranormal; the abnormal; the shadows behind every single myth and legend and conspiracy one could find. My goal is to blur the lines of the literary world… to challenge its fears of what most would think to be the unaccepted. So, now that I have introduced the first chapter in my life, only God can write the next.

Viper: Chapter Excerpt 2

Viper: Chapter Excerpt 2

Viper….

I take my time dematerializing to Miami. I stop along the way in a few cities including Dallas, Texas, Baton Rouge, Louisiana, and then finally Myrtle Beach, North Carolina to feed. There is no way I am depleting my energy resources all at once especially not knowing what type of dangers I will be facing. I feasted on a young hustler whom was busy getting his dick sucked in the alley by what I would assume to be one of his clients, followed by an under dressed woman with bullying tendencies at one of Louisiana’s local bars, and then finished off with a police officer who busy doing everything else but protecting and serving. And three hours later I was back in front of the same snobby hotel that Rio had set me and Kevin to.

I can’t pick up Kevin’s scent anywhere, or Rio’s musky scent. I check my phone and search my email for the itinerary, and Kevin is scheduled to perform at a very popular strip club called King of Diamonds. I hate strippers. I hate strip clubs. The only good stripper is a stripper writhing underneath my grip as I tear out his or her throat. The smell of sex, money, greed, lust, lies, deceit…irritate the fuck out of me. Not that I am a saint. I probably have a first class seat in hell (if there is such a place) with my name on it. But I am full, and I have a mission to accomplish.  Besides, places like strip clubs, night clubs and bars are swarming with vampires, werewolves, and other beings that I don’t fuck with.

I flag down a cab, and the driver is a middle aged and disgustingly overweight bag of human filth and disease. Even if I were dying of thirst I would never sink my teeth into that living sack of puss. The only reason why I am inside this piece of shit called a cab is because I have no clue where King of Diamonds is actually located, and I do not have the patience or the time to try to figure it out. I have been inside many strip clubs, but this would be my first experience at King of Diamonds. This is going to be very, very interesting.

The sack of puss attempted to engage me in unnecessary conversation, but after delivering a glare that should have killed him, he resumed his drive, which was less than 30 minutes from where he picked me up at. I gave him his ridiculously high fare and no tip, and he skirted off into the night. The club was packed, there was a line wrapped around the corner to get in. Every hustler with a few dollars in his pocket to spend, every rapper that happened to be in the area, women of all colors and body types and barely dressed came out to support Kevin…and of the course the silicone fused strippers. I will give King of Diamonds its props, however. The strippers were of high caliber since this was no ordinary strip joint found in shadier parts of the city. No, this was where real ballers came to play, and one was spending a few thousand on a round of top shelf liquor, then that he should just stay home. King of Diamonds is not a place for rookie hustlers even though many tried to get in.

Fortunately, I did not need to worry about getting passed the bouncer. I dematerialized inside the building. The interior was built similar to that of a stadium, circular seating surrounding an actual boxing ring where I guess the contests ranging from twerking, to advanced forms of stripping took place. I stick to the shadows, avoiding eye contact with the vast array of men seated nearest the bar area. The scents that clouded the atmosphere were intoxicating, mixture of  blood types laced with variant levels of liquor, drugs and hormones. I also picked up the all too familiar scents of older vampires lurking around looking for their next meal, and there was something else that I could not quite figure out….the scent was vague, yet heavy enough for me to pick up, and awfully thick. It made the saliva in my mouth thicken and my fangs lengthen, and my body tensed as if preparing for a fight and then the realization slammed right into me: werewolf.

Great. Exactly what I needed at a time like this. Why the hell was a goddamn werewolf in King of Diamonds in the presence of several and very old vampires?  Something was not right and now was not the time for me to find out. Moving past the bar I near the VIP section, and nothing but ass and tits bounced near and around me. One stripper sashayed past me and gave me a look that was clearly an invitation for some fun, and I ignored her. Even though I do not do men, I don’t do chicks either and I am not about to now. She looked surprised but my rude decline but just as quickly found her someone who was more than happy to accept whatever it was she offered. Several women ranging from tall and busty to short and curvy bypassed me and asked if I needed something, but this time I was forced to lie and say I was waiting for someone otherwise I would have drawn unwanted attention to myself.

I found an empty table nearest an exit and took a seat. Still no sign of Kevin or Rio. I glanced at the flyer that was lying on the table, and it confirmed that he is definitely performing tonight. As I read the flyer, a dark entity crept up next to me and took a seat. Another vampire, and an old one at that. She was dressed in dark blue business attire, with creamy white skin with peachy undertones, blonde hair piled neatly on top of her head in a bun and  green eyes that eyed me with a delighted curiosity. She smiled and said, “Wrong night for a baby vampire to be out alone. Where is your maker darling?” I glared at her. “And why should that be any of your concern?” “Normally, I don’t entertain younger vamps but you my dear intrigue me. And those that intrigue me get a warning.” She smiled once more, but this time showing me a fine set of lengthy and sharp fangs. “Whatever you are here for, drop it and leave. All of these people are dead, they just don’t know it yet.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” I lean in closer to her, listening intently to what she has to say. As much as I would like to run a stake through her heart, I know that I have to listen. She chuckles to herself as if what she is about to tell me is a joke, and she motions for a server, a short haired and thickly built young woman dressed in nothing but a thong and some heels struts over to our table carrying a trey with liquor filled cups. “Thank you so much darling,” the vampire said taking a drink and seductively eyeing the stripper. The stripper winked at her and quickly left to attend to the other patrons. “Tonight is the annual blood fest. That is why I asked you about your maker because this blood fest started half a century ago taking place in business establishments that sell sex, liquor and drugs. KOD is the perfect setting for such a feast, and all of the more seasoned vampires know about it….” She leaned in closer and added in a whisper, “And babies are not allowed unless by invite.” She sat back to watch my expression as the energy in the building darkened. More “seasoned” vamps had entered the premises. I sigh and then lean in towards her, beckoning for her to lean in closer as I say, “So if there is supposed to be a blood fest,” I whisper. “Then why the fuck is a werewolf here?” Her eyes widened as she glanced around nervously. “Where?” She asked anxiously. “I caught the scent when I first entered and I can still smell it. You don’t?” She inhaled deeply and the center of her irises illuminated a soft red glow. Translation: Get the fuck out of here.  She got up quickly and with a speed that clearly wasn’t human and disappeared into the crowd.

Vampires don’t fuck with werewolves. Ever. I was still a newly turned vampire right after Rio found me when I got into a fight with a werewolf. He was older than me by twenty years, and had Lucas been decent enough to properly school me on the life of a vampire, he would have told me that werewolves were no joke and the only threat to a vampire’s existence. I fought him with everything I had but the bastard was stronger, faster, and much more experienced and if it wasn’t for another vampire who had watched the whole thing take place, I would not be here. It took two of us to kill the fucker, and once it was done the vampire informed me that a bite from a werewolf is lethal to our kind and that they are our natural enemies. He told me that my best bet to deal with a werewolf is to run like hell, because once they have one of us in their sights a fight is imminent.

I don’t blame blondie for leaving. Once I became aware of its presence I wanted to leave too, but unfortunately, duty calls.

I could simply leave both of these foolish men to die gruesome deaths on general principal for fucking me over. Rio already had it coming, and Kevin probably just on association…But in all real honesty I need Kevin to track down Lucas. Or to at least draw him out of whatever hell hole he was hiding in.

A light skinned stripper with long mermaid like weave, with thick legs and more than bountiful assets stepped into the arena taking center stage. The guy dressed as a referee came out and introduced her as “Candy Cane”. The crowd went nuts, as she demonstrated showmanship by parading out in front of the crowd dressed in a red and white bikini, courtesy of her nickname when one of Kevin’s songs came on called “The Trap”. The audience cheered, and even the strippers that worked the crowd became hyped over the heavy, slow bass of this popular song. She gyrated and clapped her ass cheeks together and then whined her way down to a perfect split before tossing away the top. Several ballers who had the ring side seats rained thousands of dollars on her as she continued to put on a show.  As the song winded down I caught Kevin’s scent somewhere off in the crowd nearest the stage. I guess the stripper was his introduction.

Once she was off the stage, the referee was met with the promoter of the club to introduce the performer. The promoter, a muscled Latino with perfectly bronzed skin and arched eyebrows stepped into the forefront, dressed in denim, a jean jacket and a Polo took the mic and yelled into the crowd, “Ladies and Fellas it is my pleasure to introduce to you my friend who is also one of the greatest up and comers in the game to the stage. Ladies hold your panties, Fellas hold your drinks. Please give it up for my boy, Kevin Baaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnneeeeeeessssssss!” Kevin struts up into the boxing ring looking as if just the other night never happened and he was still signed to his brother’s record label. He takes the mic and scans the crowd and smiles like a little boy in a candy store as the stripper struts by him and plants a kiss on the cheek. He playfully slaps her on the ass, which for some reason makes me want to kill him more, and then cues the DJ to drop the beat.

The audience is captivated by his lyrical flow, the content based around his life in New York and how his father left a legacy shrouded in fear and pain. I had to give it to him, he was good but time was of essence. I slipped closer to the front, receiving a few hateful glances from patrons who actually paid to sit where they were seated. I did not see Rio, but I could sense his presence just beyond the ring. I also had the displeasure of sensing the very close presence of the werewolf who had called in reinforcements because just three rows ahead of me I detected three more, all male and looking more than ready for a fight.

Kevin breaks into another song that is just as hyped, and the strippers lost their ever lovin’ minds. Lap dances ran rampant, thongs and skimpy tops came off. The liquor kept coming and so did other things…I wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to make it past the three werewolves. Clearly these entities were hired because whoever the owner was knew about the yearly blood fest and was taking protective measures. Why vampires would be this sloppy is beyond me. As the song concluded, all hell started to break loose.  One of the patrons got a little too hostile over a stripper paying too  much attention to another paying customer and started an argument with the other customer, bringing attention from the werewolves. That was my cue to disappear behind the ring and make my way into the “Employees Only” entryway.

Once my heart rate normalized, I followed the scents and sounds that filtered down the corridors. Thankfully the halls were empty, but the sound of my boots slamming against the linoleum floor did not help my cause. I dematerialize and ride the airwaves, searching the halls until I come across Kevin’s dressing room, and guess who is inside? Rio. I materialize inside and the man is not very happy to see me. He was in the middle of entertaining another one of his associates in the spacious room, and for me to magically appear out of thin air sent him over the edge.  His associate turns ghastly white at my appearance, and just for show, I smile at him with lengthy fangs on full display. Both one of them seemed to know what to say, and quite frankly it would be better for them to not say one mumbling word.

I should kill both of them. No. I should kill the middle aged acquaintance of his and make him watch. As I deliberate on what would be my best course of torturous action, I caught the associate hit a button on his phone, and I knew right then he activated a call for security. “Son of a bitch,” I growl as I snatch him and toss him to the other side of the room like an old shoe and I grab Rio and dematerialize. His screams could be heard echoing throughout the halls but I get him outside of the club and into the safety of the dark parking lot. I drop him onto the pavement as I take form. He attempts to scamper away but stomp my foot down on his leg, stopping him right in his tracks. His fear spiked the air with an intoxicating smell that triggered a very familiar hunger despite the fact that I am already well fed. I lower my fangs to intensify his fear. Yes Rio, you have absolutely and positively without a doubt fucked up, I think to myself. I should drag his ass back to my storage facility and force him to pick his own snake. Too bad my Anaconda had not reached maturity for me figure out if constrictors were capable of swallowing a human. I find myself completely lost in my own sadistic thoughts that I don’t even hear them coming.

Someone nailed me in the back with 6000 volts of electricity that made me forget that I am a vampire with unlimited strengths and abilities. The last thing I remember as I hit the ground was Rio’s face smiling in relief.

I have more than nine lives you son of a bitch. I am coming for you.

Viper: Chapter Excerpt

Chapter Six

After several attempts to reach Rio by phone, I run to the guest room where Kevin had taken refuge, phone, wallet and box in hand. The door was locked, no surprise there so I break the knob clean off and push the door open. He jumps off of the bed in shock and disbelief. “Ay man, what the fuck are you doing?” I hand him his wallet, and his phone, and shove the box in his hands. I am not sure if I have enough energy to do this (and I pray that I can bring this man out in one piece), and grab him by his shoulders and dematerialize without a second thought. He screams his lungs as I drag him through the molecules, and because I am traveling with more than just myself I struggle to maintain that form as we move at almost light speed back to California. The fact that this man is nearly twice my size in weight, not to mention the stress of knowing that someone has located us and was bold enough to flex a move, mixed with Kevin just acting like a straight up pussy, I barely manage to poof us to back to Rio’s townhome in Baldwin Hills.

We collapse in a heap on the manicured lawn, and I can feel the slight tingle and burn of the sun’s rays cresting over the horizon. I have less than forty minutes to find Rio and get myself to safety. There was also the slight complication that I need to feed. I tried to be patient and give the man a minute to orient himself, but as he blinked several times at me like a blind man given his sight for the first time, I picked him up the collar and drug him to the front door, where we were greeted by his personal guard. With the sun’s rays less than an hour from burning me to a crisp and knock both men down, and force my way through, dragging Kevin with me. The house goes into an uproar, I find myself and Kevin surrounded with guns drawn, and with the surge of adrenaline building, I eye the thick blue-green vein pulsating in the broad neck of the white body guard that was built like a brick house.  He will definitely do.  Just as the shit is about to get real with every last one of the men (except for Kevin) becoming a part of my breakfast, Rio comes strutting down the stairs, dressed in a black silk robe followed by a woman who was a least ten years his junior following behind in a similar garb. His face is beet red, and his nostrils flare and as I watch every muscle in jaw flinch in anger, I wonder if he will ever have enough nerve to drive a stake through my heart.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” He roars, bypassing his men and leaving his plaything for the night at the base of the stairs. “Are you fucking insane? He is supposed to be In Miami! He has a show tonight and two nights from now, he has a meeting with the press!” “Well if you had not been so concerned with getting your dick sucked you would have answered my calls,” I retort sharply. I turn towards Kevin, whom was standing a little too close for comfort next to me, and ask for the box. “Someone was kind enough to send us not only his cell phone and his wallet, but the eye of his road manager.” Kevin inhales sharply upon receiving word of his manager and what I could assume long time friend’s demise. His sudden grief saturated the air, with a heavy, dewy scent and although not much moves me anymore I motioned for Rio to let Kevin pass and find solace in another area of the house while we discussed what needed to be discussed.

Once Kevin was out of sight, I hand the box over to Rio and he reluctantly accepts it. Once he opens it, the smell of the decaying contents was enough to make him toss it to the side, nearest the stairwell. He smoothed his broad hands over his bald head, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He motioned for his guards to take refuge elsewhere and then beckoned for me to follow. His little play thing decided that she should come too, but was quickly reprimanded and sent right back to where she belonged: the bedroom. He led me to his office where most, if not all of our arguments have taken place, and closing the door behind me, he plopped down on the cream colored sofa, his robe sliding up his thighs and bunching into his more “private regions”. I really wish the man had put some pants on at least. We are close, but we are not that close.

“What happened?” He finally said through clenched teeth, and once I gave him the rundown, his expression grew more serious by the minute.  When I was done, he got up and punched a hole in the wall facing the sofa.  “This is all the way around fucked up.” He said with a hint of exhaustion. “I know.” I say nodding my head. “I don’t have many options left Viper.” He adds softly. “I know.” He sighs and moves over to his desk, and reaches into the bottom drawer and pulls out a .45 and several hallow points and took a seat on the leather office chair, and stares at me intently from behind the desk. “This could be the work of C Dollas. I have not spoken to him, haven’t been able to reach him…” “C Dollas works for Lucas,” I anxiously reply as I march over closer to his desk. He looks at me in disbelief, and to be honest, I could not believe it myself. But whatever Lucas was up to, it was something big because C Dollas was no rookie in the industry or in the streets. “I found out that one of the promoters from the Kevin’s former record label invited Kevin and his crew to the mansion. C Dollas doesn’t deal with anybody that he is not in cahoots with.” “Maaaaaaaan Viper…goddamn!” He groans, massaging his temples. “Cancel the press conference,” I say firmly. “Send out a statement stating that it did not work out between you two professionally and you are hereby releasing him from his contract. Therefore, to most of the other record labels would see him as a free agent…or better yet tell the media that Kevin has opted to go independent, and in the mean time we can quickly stage a dummy record label under his name to give the world the impression that he is in fact independent.” I hold my breath as I let my suggestion sink in. “I don’t know Viper,” he said warily. “Neither Lucas nor C Dollas is gonna buy that. When I found Kevin he was completely broke and on the brink of eviction from his landlord.” “For all they know Kevin could have been stashing whatever money he was paid…” “And what exactly is that going to do?” “Buy us, better yet ME some time.” He stares at me with a mixture of defeat, regret, confusion and something else I cannot exactly pinpoint. “You know what Viper,” he begins slowly. “I told you that I wanted to retire. I am tired of all this street shit and even when I was really at the top of my game, I ran my organization with a plan: to leave it for the next man hungry for a come up and start my label and go legit. I think I have done more than my fair share of making good on my word: I gave you Lucas’ brother. I fucking handed him to you on a silver fucking platter and you still bring this bullshit to my door. Look, I tried to convince you to just in some shape or form to move on, but since you insist on embarking on this suicidal plan that is going to not only get you killed, but Kevin killed too, I don’t want any more parts of it.”  The long silence that followed as I processed every single word that this selfish and greedy former Brazilian kingpin had to say and if it wasn’t for the that blasted sun I would have- “I have to go Rio,” I say urgently. “The sun is rising which means you have 12 hours to figure out what the hell you are going to do. You are in this shit as deeply as I am and for all of the bodies that I have drained, murders I have cleaned up, men whose lives I have ended on your behalf, I would have thought that your balls would have been a bit bigger at least on the strength of loyalty. But I see, loyalties like people change. Good day Rio.” With that I dematerialized myself back to my Hollywood apartment, unfortunately leaving Kevin alone with Rio to sort out the mess.

If Rio is thinking what I know he is thinking, then he will have more than one reason to fear the night.

http://septembershope.wix.com/author-delizhia

NEW WIP: VIPER

NEW WIP: VIPER

I only have one rule: don’t touch me.

There is only one man I have and will ever listen to, and that is my boss Rio. And for the record, he is only my boss because I allow him to be. He promised me he would help me get revenge on the CEO and founder of Drug Money Records/mob boss Lucas Barnes, in exchange for my services as his body guard and hired assassin. I have no problems with death. As a matter of fact I thrive in it: it is in that cloud of darkness that I find myself at my best. I have not only tasted death, I have devoured it, bathed in it and now I am one with it. I am the Grim Reaper.

Once I have accomplished my mission of watching Lucas choke on his own innards after impaling him on a nine foot stake surrounded by my infamous pitt vipers, I am exiting stage left of this cursed life that was forced upon me 20 years ago, and maybe, God will have mercy on me and grant me the peace that I desperately need and deserve. Lucas Barnes is my end game.

They call me Viper, but in the shadows I am recognized as the Pitt Assassin for reasons that you will come to understand in due time. I am a goddamn myth in these streets. I am the reasons why hustlers and gangsters alike fear the silence of the dead of the night, why the slightest bristle in the wind forces them to shoot their own body guards in a nervous panic. I hunt them just like they hunt those that they prey on: the weak and the desperate. I do what I will with them and then I feed them to my pet vipers.

I hate what I do, the reasons why I do what I do; I hate what I am and most importantly, I hate the man who did this to me. So let me reintroduce myself to you: They call me Viper. I am an assassin. And I am a vampire. My maker: Lucas Barnes. My mission: kill Lucas and everyone he has ties with and put an end to a tragic story that should have ended 20 years ago.

He raped my mother.

He killed my father.

He killed my sister.

He killed my mother.

He made me watch.

And then he turned me into a monster.

If it is a monster he wants, then it is a monster he gets. And whatever you do, don’t get in my way.

For more excerpts please check out my website at: http://septembershope.wix.com/author-delizhia

Nubia Rising: Black Moon Excerpt

Nubia Rising: Black Moon Excerpt

Chapter 1

Kitara ran her hands through her thick locks as she struggled to work the laptop Naomi had bought for her. It was strange this world, though she had never physically left it.  It was supposed to be a mental thing. Just a few days of nothing; not using her powers; no sword; no communication with her sisters. Not 500 years. How did she manage to roam every corner of the earth, and not acclimate herself to the ever changing times? She was a stranger still in old lands like she was in Nubia. Her sisters had managed to do it; and they did it well, except…Sage was going to have to explain what “twerking” meant, even though she somewhat got the gist of it. She pushed the control key on the laptop. Nothing. Why did anyone need to “surf the web” when there was so much more to do? Syrene was still trapped in the Osirian realms. It had been over a month since the showdown in Bermuda. Isis was dead, after several millennia it finally came to an end. Osiris had risen, and Kalima was out there somewhere plotting her revenge and then soon, Lilith would have to be addressed. Kitara had never had a run in with the she-demon considering there were other entities out there much more problematic to contend with. But, now that the dust had settled, Lilith had proved to be a bigger problem than she had initially thought.

Kitara gently folded the black HP and placed it on the mahogany coffee table and lolled back into the love seat.  It was early in the day, 11 a.m. to be exact and she was alone. Again. Everyone else had lives outside of that of a Destroyer. Sage was back in Los Angeles doing some private detective work for one of her clients; something about a strange death. Celeste said she needed a break from everyone for a little while and took off to Mexico to perhaps unwind at one of the many sandy beaches to escape the mental drain that came with being a Destroyer. On top of that, Kitara had to assume that part of it was due to unresolved issues with Naomi. And, speaking of Naomi, she thought that no one would figure out that she was secretly visiting Jose periodically. Kitara shook her head at the thought. It was none of her business but then again, yes it was. That poor boy had been through enough: he had barely escaped Isis’ grips with his life intact. He was finally free of the spiritual bondage that he and his family had suffered from for generations. He was free: free to live his life to the fullest and just…live. Naomi was going to do nothing more than endanger his life once again just because of who and what she was. Kitara understood that it was his choice and it was not like he didn’t know what she was and what he would face by being with her. But, Naomi should be more responsible. She knew and understood the risks firsthand and it would not be fair to purposely put this young man’s life at risk just to satisfy the longings of the heart. Still, it’s their lives. They have the right to do and say and whatever they please and Kitara had her own issues to concern herself with.

Feeling slightly agitated and restless she got up and made her way to the fridge for another bite of those snack wings Naomi introduced her to. There were still quite a bit of leftovers from last night and Kitara found herself addicted. Lemon pepper and honey barbeque were now her favorite-with some ranch dressing of course. Is this where life would lead her to? A modern contraption that froze large amounts of food just for her to eat away her problems? No wonder people of today were so…obese. The decadence and the availability of a surplus of fattening foods that exploded in one’s mouth with so much… flavor.  She grabbed a wing out of the oversized box that held over 30 something wings and drumsticks, biscuits and the like and took a big bite. There was no need in her using the microwave; she had spent centuries eating unheated food so this was nothing to her. It was still juicy, flavorful and…delicious! She grabbed another one and another one and shamelessly stood in the kitchen gobbling down wing after wing when she heard the soft pattering of footsteps. Tossing the remains of her last piece of chicken in the Hefty bag that was tied to the one of the long cabinet doors, Kitara turned to face the one person she could always turn to for support. Oblivion stood in her true  angelic form; standing at almost ten feet tall, her waist length hair a platinum white; silver irises illuminating a brilliant light. It was strange seeing her like this; her normal earthly form was a sword, and one that Kitara kept closely guarded at her hip unless it was summoned back to the last Atlantean pyramid or back to the heavens for safe keeping. And the first time that Kitara witnessed her in her true form, Oblivion’s light burned almost as brightly as the sun; so much so that at the time Kitara almost had to shield her eyes. But now, the only light that shown was through her irises. Oblivion had managed to maintain a healthy peachy skin tone. She looked almost completely human. “Did I wake you Oblivion?” Kitara asked with concern. “No,” her voice was still as soft as an echo in the wind. “I awoke on my own. I feel as if I have slumbered for much too long. It has been an adjustment being in this form. I didn’t know how important sleep was for mortals…” “I think the density of the earth plane is taking a toll on you dear friend. Michael and Zedkiel said you would adjust soon enough.”  Oblivion sighed. “I know…” Oblivion focused her gaze on the Hefty bag that had splashes of barbeque sauce around its edges and chuckled. “I see you have been indulging your senses again.” Kitara glanced over at the bag and smiled slightly. “Uh, yes. I have enjoyed those snack wings entirely too much. If I keep on I will be as big as a house!” Oblivion laughs heartily and takes a seat on the section in front of the television. “They leave us alone to fend for ourselves like toddlers,” Oblivion sighs. “They do,” Kitara agreed as she takes a seat across from her on the love seat. “What ails you Oblivion. Share your wounds with me as I with you. Let me help you at least this once.” Oblivion hesitated before answering. She did not want to burden Kitara with her troubles. She was sent to be of help to the Destroyer and not the other way around. However, what they shared transcended friendship; they were spiritually tied to one another like the stars to the universe. The universe in all its magnificence and wonder would be silent and dark without the twinkle and dance of the multitudes of stars and that was their relationship. They needed each other. “Kitara, my purpose has changed as did yours. I myself am a weapon, and the first and last of my kind. Instead of aiding you in your battles as a sword, Michael said I am to fight by your side now. I feel…concerned that my lack of skill may jeopardize future battles. I don’t believe that I can live up to the expectations that my brothers in Heaven seem to have for me. I am so ashamed!” Silver tears began to streak down her creamy smooth face as she buried her face in her hands. Her white wings slowly unfolded as she covered herself in her own feathery down. Kitara got up and was by her side in an instant, embracing the angel and sharing her pain. “You know that I know what it is like to doubt one’s own abilities,” Kitara said softly. “You know that I have questioned my purpose and the reasons for my seemingly endless existence. But a warrior is not always fighting technique and skill…most of the time the warrior is from within. And, you have to trust that God did not create you to be a burden and there was a reason you were secreted away in the heavens; not because you are weak but because you are a force. The Darkness fears you. Why do you think your name is Oblivion? You just don’t have the ability to destroy gods; you were created to destroy something stronger than that. I think that right now Michael just wanted you to have time to adjust to living on earth in a human form.” Kitara continued to stroke Oblivion’s back with hopes of sending comfort into the wounded soul of this ethereal being. “Things have changed…for the Almighty to send you down here so close to the Armageddon it must mean that something great is at stake.” “That is why I love you dearest friend,” Oblivion sniffled while wiping her tearstained face and slowly unwrapping herself from the soft feathery embrace of her magnificent wings. “Not only are you courageous but your heart is pure and kind. And I agree, something has changed and I should not allow such frivolous thoughts make stronghold in my thoughts. Surely all will be revealed and our purposes defined. I should stop doubting myself. Our Father never leaves us ill equipped when we have a destiny to fulfill.” “No, He does not,” Kitara agreed. They shared a smile. It was during moments like this that solidified their bond. Oblivion may have been a Destroyer angel, but to Kitara, she was her Guardian Angel.

Blind Salvation: A Quick Overview

Blind Salvation: A Quick Overview

“And so the light fell in love with the dark, even though it was the light that could not see and it was the dark that bathed in the sun…”- Blind Salvation

The first installment of the Dark Royals Series, Blind Salvation is an interracial, 80,000 word paranormal romance novel about a vampire prince who finds his soul in the heart of a blind woman. Damien is being forced to marry through the will of his father, Hadrian, The Great Vampire King of their bloodline due to a prophecy that he perceives to be a threat to the races’ survival. Kennedy, legally blind since birth, is an African American woman nearing her thirties has spent the last five years of her life alone-her only companion, an incredibly intelligent Golden Retriever by the name of Hubert, is rescued by none other than Damien one evening from a gang of thugs and as fate should have it, he connects with her instantly. Awed by her independence despite of her obvious handicap, Damien is smitten by her and desperate to protect her from what should have been an ordinary and mundane existence of a blind person.  Unfortunately, his kind are being hunted by a relentless Slayer by the name of Rothbart all because of a misunderstanding orchestrated by his older sister Lucinda, in the quest to protect his family and the new love of his life, Damien and Kennedy discover that she is an heir to the “lost” Fae King and as the story unfolds both of them fight against time to find the salvation they both had been searching for all along.

Coming soon…

Selma

I finally got the opportunity to see the movie that provoked public outrage towards this year’s Oscars: Selma. To be honest, I was not that enthused about seeing it, for reasons that stem from my pubescent years that surround Black History Month and report, after report on the life and death of civil rights leader, Martin Luther King. From the sixth grade all the way I’d say to my junior year in high school, I could have sworn that Martin Luther King J.R. was the only black man in the history of black people that had done anything for blacks. I mean, good lord, after writing so many reports and being forced to present the same findings in an endless cycle of monotony one can not help but understand why Selma did not excite me. And, not to mention upon first glance of the previews, it just seemed like another opportunity for Oprah to promote her greatness, selfishly overshadowing the actor who played MLK J.R.., and claiming every film accolade available to add to her list of virtually unachievable accomplishments.

But none of that was the case.

The movie is powerful. I cannot give a play by play account of every scene (I will leave that to the critics), but I was pulled in immediately in the opening scene, recounting the tragic story of a church bombing that killed four innocent little black girls, that triggered a series of events that would later go down in history. Selma is not only the focal point in the strategic fight against the harsh voter restrictions that prevented blacks from exercising their right to vote; it is also the turning point in MLK’s personal struggles between himself and his wife, and the internal conflicts that he often faced in the quiet moments when he was alone.

Personally, whoever is responsible for writing the screenplay is an absolute genius. In order to portray the true character of the leader whose “I Have A Dream” speech is recognized as one of the greatest speeches in American history; and whose face is the ultimate representation of civil rights, choosing to not begin the movie at the moment of his birth but rather on a period in history where tensions between blacks and whites had reached a boiling point…pure brilliance. The tone of the movie was heady…I could feel the burdens, the weight of, the extremity of the harshness that my own grandparents had to face in a country that sang songs of freedom and equality-but only for the freedoms and equalities of whites. It was as if I myself was walking with King on his journey. I could feel his grief, his frustrations, and the pride even in the smallest of victories.

I cried. My heart bled for those who were beaten, murdered, and convicted unfairly and for what?

Selma is the representation of strategic brilliance. The march that was led, leading up to Selma had been nothing more than a means to provoke the media into forcing even the president himself to take a long hard look at what had been taking place in the south for decades; to understand the cruelty of the Jim Crow laws and to force white Americans to question their own morality. I loved it.

But I loved Coretta’s strength more. Behind every great man is an awesome woman, and while many hailed her husband for his greatness, she stood by his side despite his flaws, often making a heavier a heavier sacrifice for the sake of his image, for the  marriage. Coretta proved herself to be in my opinion much more formidable than her husband; there were moments when he looked to her for strength because the weight of the world had taken its toll on him, and even in the midst of her own pain, she managed to lift him up so that he could continue being the man that the world around them needed.

In short, Oprah, Lee Daniels, Brad Pitt and every actor that contributed to the film deserves every ounce of praise and recognition the world could muster. Selma is not only a teacher of black history, it is a reminder that the memories of one of darkest periods in American history is no longer the responsibility of those who lived it; it now belongs to the generations that have followed behind it, and benefitted from its trials and triumphs-many of which we have all taken for granted. It is a reminder that black men are not the monsters that or the depraved savages that has become a self fulfilling prophecy that many of them are living up to. It is a reminder that there is still much more work to do in the fight to keep MLK’s dream alive; that what was fought for should never be taken for granted-lives were lost, and each life spared was not done in vain.

And it all began in Selma.

Happy Valentines Day

Happy Valentines Day

As we all rush out like madmen to purchase cards, chocolates, sexy lingerie, and toys to create magic in our otherwise mundane love lives it should take one day to make the person that you care about feel special. I have never really cared for the commercial holiday; it has always been just another excuse for men to get laid and for women to acquire an often cheap piece of jewelry and a dinner date. And let’s face it, after 50 Shades of Grey, no man alive can compete with a fictional character whose sexual prowess and romance skills are on an unachievable level. So I will keep this blog short and straight to the point: book boyfriends are so much better.

Love At Last is now available starting at its discounted price at .99 on Amazon Kindle. Trey will never disappoint.

http://www.amazon.com/Love-At-Last-Delizhia-Jenkins-ebook/dp/B00QLHC612/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1423928352&sr=8-1&keywords=love+at+last+by+delizhia+jenkins

Love At Last: Final Excerpt

Love At Last: Final Excerpt

Chapter 23

Trey

Trey couldn’t wait to get Danielle back to his place. He was anxious to see what her “surprise” was. But when he made the stop at her mom’s house, and all she came out with was her duffle bag, he was even more curious. The suspense made him incredibly horny. He was little disappointed that he didn’t meet her mom right then, but she wasn’t there. He was excited that she wanted him to meet her family so soon. He had originally planned on taking her out somewhere tonight but she was adamant about spending time alone at his place, which was fine with him. She said she wanted to cook for him which was a plus. He had food at the house, but she wanted to stop at the grocery store so that she wouldn’t use the food he bought for himself and Amir. Trey found himself ready to say the “L” word, but he figured now wasn’t the time.

She cooked him baked salmon, with roasted red potatoes and gravy with a Caesar salad. She even bought red wine to go with it. He helped her set up the ambiance: he lit candles, dimmed the lights and turned on Usher’s latest single, Climax to set the mood. Once the table was set, she ordered him to take a shower and get comfortable. He did as he was told. He put on some sweats and a t-shirt and sat on the couch waiting to see what she would do next. She took her duffle bag and hurried into his bathroom to shower herself, and thirty minutes later she came out looking like a breath of fresh air…and then some. She wore a blood red teddy with the matching panties and red pumps. Trey all of a sudden didn’t want to eat, at least not dinner. Those long legs of hers had him completely incoherent, and just the sight of her behind had him in a frenzy. She sashayed past him, smelling like night roses and sat at the dinner table. She had taken her hair down and had even applied some dark eye liner, giving her a sultry look. “Aren’t you going to join me?” She asked seductively. All Trey could do was nod and got up to join her at the table, not even trying to hide his arousal. She got up and served him his plate and then sat on his lap to feed him with her hands. “I hope your hands are clean, ma’” He joked. She laughed. “Of course they are…” she said. This was possibly the most sensual experience he has ever had with a woman. She said he was going to cause her to explode, shit, she didn’t know he was about to explode any minute. He finished his plate. “Ay, you haven’t touched yours,” he said. “You can feed it to me later.” She cooed. That was it. The gauntlet had been fucking dropped. He couldn’t take any more. With a quick sweeping motion Trey scooped her up in his arms and kissed her hard and passionately. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him back…gently biting and sucking his mouth. He almost tripped carrying her to the room.

He couldn’t get her on the bed fast enough. He laid her down, not once breaking the kiss. She was so soft and warm, her moans were like music to his ears. He took his shirt off and draped her with his body. Tonight, every question was going to be fucking answered. What she wanted he was going to deliver. Off came her teddy. Her size 36B breasts bounced free and he planted his mouth on one, latching on like a newborn baby. His hands, well let’s just say, went to work in other places. She cried out in pleasure. He took her mouth. He ripped her matching panties set clean off. Fuck it, he would buy her a million more. She opened her legs wider for him to nestle in between. Yes, tonight he was going to tattoo his name all over her body until she begged him to stop. Even if it took all night he was going to take her to the heavens and back. He was going to make her go blind with pleasure. She cried out again. Yes, goddamn it she was going to get it. He kissed her starting from her neck all the way down to her sweet spot. Damn she tasted good, he couldn’t get enough. She was going to hit a new note tonight-better yet she was going to acquire a higher octave. “OH GOD!” she cried out. Her hands gripping the sheets until they were knuckle white. “YESSSS TREEEEEEEY!” He was going to make her come so much that she was going to lose all feeling in her legs. Her cries of pleasure was his motivation. “TREY!” she screamed. Orgasm one down. Many more to go. Since he was the only one who can take her to new heights sexually, he was taking her on a trip through the universe. He was going to imprint this night in her mental rolodex, she was never going to forget it. Shit, neither was he. Her legs started to tremble. “DAMN IT TREY!” Orgasm number 2, and he still wasn’t finished. He got up and went to his Chester drawer nearest the bed to grab a gold pack, Magnum condom. She was writhing in the bed, watching him, biting her bottom lip. “Don’t worry ma’ I got you.” He said. He took of his sweats and climbed back on the bed to finish what he started. He went back to work on her sweet spot. A few minutes later, orgasm number 3. She was glistening with sweat, her lip bloodied from biting it so hard. He rolled on the condom. “You ready ma’?” She could barely speak. “Yeesssss”. He opened her legs wide and gently pushed himself inside. Good lord she was tight…almost virginal tight but she was wet as hell. As hard as it was, he remained careful but once he knew she was used to his size, he went to work. She wanted this, she needed this…said she was going to explode, well fuck it, now was the time to do so. He pushed in deeper. Again she cried out, and Trey felt her walls tighten and release as orgasm number 5 rolled through her. He kissed her neck and sped up the pace. She was everything and then some. Sensuality personified. Sexual heat magnified, and she was his. “Oh shit ma’,” he moaned as he continued to thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him in deeper. Shit, take her to through the universe and back? She took him with her. They both cried out as probably the best orgasm Trey ever experienced in his life stopped his heart then restarted it, an engulfing energy of heat and pleasure wrapped around him and poured into her, trapping them both and releasing them. Trey couldn’t move an inch. He could barely breathe. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. Her cries told him everything he needed to know. After what seemed like hours, he managed to pull himself from on top of her, and gather her into his arms. They remained nestled in each other’s warmth, surrounded to total darkness. He could feel her heart beating his against his chest; its rhythm slowly returning to its normal beat. “Trey?” she said weakly. “Yeah ma’?” “I can’t feel my legs…” Mission accomplished. He smiled. “Is that a good thing ma’?” he asked. “Hell ya that’s a good thing.” She sat up to face him. “That was a real good thing…” he kissed her shoulder. “Are you hungry? I didn’t give you a chance to eat your food.” She laughed. “It’s ok. I don’t think I can get out the bed without falling on the floor.” He chuckled. “I was supposed to be the one giving you your surprise,” she added with a sly smile. “Oh yeah? I thought when you came out the bathroom lookin’ all sexy and shit was the surprise.” He mused. “That was part of it but not the whole thing.” “Oh yeah? Well what was it?” Trey sat up. “Now, that I think of it, I am kind of glad that we skipped it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “Because you would have laughed.” She giggled. ‘Well aren’t you going to tell me what it is?” She sighed. “For the last two weeks, after my class paralegal studies class, I have been going to a pole dancing class not far from my mom’s house…I wanted to show you what I had learned so far…” Trey laughed, not at her but the idea of her actually sliding down a pole. “See? I knew you would laugh…” she had to laugh herself. “I’m not laughing at you ma’, I think that is kinda cute that you was willing to work a pole for a nigga…” “Well see, the instructor does give pole dancing lessons, but it focuses more on strip teasing…” Trey chuckled at her embarrassment. It didn’t take much for her to get embarrassed; that was her most endearing quality. “You didn’t need a class to get me off ma’. You just being you is more than enough.” He kissed the top of her head. “So how do you feel about what we just did?” he asked. He was more than alright with it. He had no plans of going anywhere. In his mind she was the one; she was everything he dreamed about and then some…everything he dreamed about. He suddenly remembered where he had seen her from. He had a dream a few weeks ago about a woman that looked just like her. All he could recall was them meeting out in the city somewhere and sharing a kiss. He remembered waking up hard as hell and having to relieve himself twice before he could even get out of the bed. “If you are wondering if I regret anything, the answer is no.” She turned and lightly kissed his cheek. “I have never felt pleasure like that in my life,” she gushed. Trey smiled…a big ass nacho cheesy grin. He knew he broke her off something proper. All of that waiting and near misses and almosts really paid off. And as long as she would let him, she could have as much as she wanted. “I think I am going to feed you now,” he said getting out the bed. She could see the outline of his toned and hard body in the darkness as he put his sweats back on. “Trey, you don’t-“He turned to face her. “Ma’, I want you to stop it. Right now.” She sat still, shocked. He approached her, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You are so used to having to be the one doing the pleasing, but you don’t have to do that with me. I am into you, so into you that I don’t know what to do with myself. You know my history with women, especially Shyann. I never thought another woman would ever be the one for me and then I found you. If I like a woman, I do what most men will do to impress her. But, the way that you make me feel goes beyond like, and I am finding myself wanting to do more than just buy you roses and take you out to eat. Do you understand?” She nodded. “So just sit back, relax and for once let someone else do the pleasing. You fed me, right?” She nodded. “So it is only fair that I feed you. If it wasn’t for the fact that I just met you two months ago, I would have moved you in here so quick it would have made your head spin. I don’t know what this is between us, but the shit is strong. Six months from now, I want us to be planning our future. A year from now, I want you wearing my ring, and if everything goes right, I want you carrying my next son or daughter. If it makes you comfortable, we can slow things down but I just want you to know where I stand.” Trey stated. So far, his relationship with Danielle had been perfect. They had their moments where they would disagree but she would always come back or he would always come back and the issue would get solved. In all actuality, what they mostly had disagreements about was who was going to pay or Danielle’s independent streak taking over. He didn’t mind an independent woman, but he also wanted an independent woman to feel secure enough to let him be the man. She was pretty good with that, but she still had her moments. He knew her past was still haunting her. Hell, his was too. He hadn’t heard from Shyann since that night she dropped Amir off. And he hadn’t bothered to look for her. He knew where she was at: with that ass-wipe King. But he did need to know if she was alright. He had already asked a few of his cousins to get the scoop on what was going on with that. But with all of this going on and more he wasn’t prepared for what was going to happen next.

Danielle’s expression had softened so he almost forgot about her food and was about to take them both on a ride to Pleasureville and back. He wondered what she was thinking, until she spoke. “I think I love you Trey…” she blurted out. Trey wasn’t sure her heard her right. “What?” he asked. “I said, I love you Trey.” Damn. He knew he had made her lose her mind, but shit…”Look ma’”…”No you look Trey,” she said. “It has nothing to do with what just happened. I know how I feel about you. You are the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing that is on my mind when I close my eyes to sleep at night. When you leave, even if it’s just for five minutes, I miss you like you have been gone for twenty years. I have never felt this way even for King. Ever. We had our moments when things were going right where I felt something for him, but never on this level. I love everything about you. Your smile, the way you look when you are thinking; how you care for Amir; the way that you walk; how you carry yourself…I am anxious to meet your mom and your sisters just because I know that they love you. I love the sound of your voice when you wake up in the morning. I love the fact that you are willing to go out of your way for me…I just love you Trey, and I mean that. You have been such a gentleman with me since the moment we met it kinda scared me. Any other guy would have tried to jump my bones the first night I came here, and you didn’t. Any other guy would have seen how vulnerable I was and still am and took advantage of that, and you haven’t. So don’t even think to question how I could be in love with you when you have given me so many reasons why I am. I love you Trey.” She looked down like she always did when she was worried about his reaction. She had no idea what she just did. Trey had been wanting to drop the “L” bomb for a minute now but didn’t, thinking that she might run off. But she said it first, and she said it with so much emotion that he was devoid of any thought or reason. A few minutes passed between them before she got up and went into the bathroom. He followed behind her and listened after the door shut. Was she crying? He heard soft sniffling and the shuffling of clothes from her duffle bag. He opened the door. She was wrapped in one of his towels, her nose red and her face damp. He didn’t mean to make her cry, lord knows he didn’t. He was madly in love with her; was willing to risk his freedom for her if he had to. “Come here ma’.” He said softly. Her eyes were puffy and red which broke his heart. “Come here ma’” he pleaded. She didn’t go to him. She just looked at him. He stepped inside and took her palms in gently pulled her out into an embrace. He made her look at him. “Danielle, you didn’t give me a chance to respond. Baby, I am so in love with you it hurts. I was just in shock that you were so honest and I didn’t know that you felt that way. If you don’t believe me when I say that I am in love with you, then let me prove it to you.” He went in the bathroom and cut the shower water on. She was still standing in the hall where had left her, wrapped in the towel, holding herself. When the water was just right, he stripped down and beckoned for her to come in with him and she did. She took off the towel and he helped her into the shower. It was a bit of a tight squeeze but he was able to maneuver himself around her. He held her gaze as he took the washcloth and the squeezed out the body wash onto it. He stole glances of her body, of course and what a sight it was to see. Her sun kissed brown skin was absolutely radiant under the spray. He carefully took the towel and massaged it onto her skin and made sure to wash every inch of body. Her hair went from straight to now curly which gave her a more erotic appeal. After washing each section of her body he lightly plant a kiss and by the time he was done he had literally covered her with kisses. She returned the favor, not only showering him with the soap but also with her affection and when they were done, he did what he always did and scooped her up, taking her not to the bedroom but to the kitchen. They were both wrapped in towels. He sat her down at the table, took her plate and warmed it up, then brought it back to her, only for him to return the favor and feed her with his bare hands. All of this done in silence, She didn’t need to speak and neither did he. It wasn’t until she said she was full, is when he spoke. “Now, do you believe me?” She smiled. Of course she did. “Now I want you to remember this whenever you start doubting how I feel.” “I feel like I’m in a dream.” “So do I,” Trey said. “Where I’m from what I just did would look like some sucka shit. But I told you ma’ that I would be your prince if you let me. So, are we good?” “We are more than good, Trey…until my heart stops beating there is no way I see myself ever being without you. You know how I feel.” “Until your heart stops beating?” He repeated. “Until my heart stops beating.” Trey had to smile at that. Until her heart stops beating? Shit, that wasn’t going to be until they were old and grey. But somewhere in the back of his mind, someone was going to try to change that, and that someone had made a deal with the devil.

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An excerpt from Redemption, a book from the up coming Dark Royals Series

Chapter Six

Terri

I cannot believe the nerve of that arrogant bastard, Terri continued to fume as she finally slipped her key into the lock and turned the knob to the apartment that had been her permanent residence for the past year. After fighting almost forty minutes of traffic thanks to a three car collision nearest the freeway, all she could think about was ordering a pepperoni pizza, with bread sticks, some fudge brownies and washing it all down with a nice cold glass of Coca Cola before climbing into bed.  She pushed the door open and to her surprise and horror Mr. Thomas was sitting on her couch with a bouquet of red and white roses, a Dior gift bag and she could be wrong but a remorseful expression. She didn’t know if she should attempt to run for her gun or just run period. The bastard had broken and entered into her home and had the nerve to be sitting on her couch waiting for her. He stood up and quickly approached her before she had time to bolt down the hallway and back to her car. He closed the door behind them, forcing her to back into the corner like a cornered animal. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said. My intentions clearly did not match my words and I am truly remorseful for the anger that I caused.” He said, his mouth inches away from hers; his big brawn hunched to her level, both hands pressed against the wall behind her and his eyes intensely fixed on hers. “In order for me to properly accept your apology, I think you should give me some physical space.” She breathed, her heart racing a mile a minute from just being in such dizzying close proximity to so much man.

He straightened his posture, and only backed away just enough to give her some breathing room…but not much. He had made it painstakingly clear that he was not allowing her room to get away from him, and Terri reasoned that if he really wanted to hurt her, he could have easily done so. But, he needed to know that annoying the hell out of her would be the quickest way for him to get his feelings hurt.  “So do you?” He asked, or better yet demanded. “Do I what?” She asked, finding herself once again annoyed by his demeanor. “Accept my apology?” “For being a pompous ass? Sure. Now could you please leave?” She stepped around him, and dropped her purse on the dining room table and then kicked her shoes off leaving them right by the table and chairs as if totally unbothered by his presence. “I annoy you don’t I?” He asked following her to the living room and watching her take a seat by her answering machine and pressing play to gather today’s unanswered messages. “Yes, you do. Why? No one has ever told you that you ‘oh great one’ have an annoying presence?” She almost laughed at the sight of his jaw actually dropping at her comment. He looked downright astounded. “No woman has ever told me that I annoyed them. They have always enjoyed my presence.” “Well there is a first time for everything,” she mumbled as she hit the play button to her answering machine. He went to say something as she motioned for him to be quiet as she listened in on the dozen or so messages that were waiting for her. The first five were from Lee: “Terri, I know I wasn’t always a good man to you but we can work it out.” She didn’t bother to finish listening to them, she just erased his pathetic pleas for second chances, all the while reaping the benefits of a heat seeking gaze coming from Luther. If she hadn’t known better she would have sworn the man was jealous. But that was ludicrous, they just met. The rest of the messages came from her attorney explaining to her that the court date had been moved up and basically all she needed to do was sign and then she was free, and then of course there were bill collectors demanding payment. When she was done, she realized Luther had taken a seat on the couch, clearly demonstrating the fact that he was going nowhere.

“I came all the way down here to apologize, just for you to tell me that I annoy you,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. “Well that is your problem. You have this way about yourself that irks the hell out of me. I am done dealing with men who are assholes.” She retorted. “And how am I an asshole?” He demanded with his nostrils flaring, and his jaw set so tight she thought he would break a tooth. “It is your demeanor,” she replied coolly. “You act as if the world owes you something and everyone in it is born to worship you. You know that money talks and therefore provides you with great amounts of power over people that you carelessly flex and I refuse to be a part of it. I have enough issues of my own and I don’t have to deal with a man who would treat me any less than what I demand and what I deserve. You can’t buy everyone. At least not me.” “I don’t want to buy you,” he said appearing somewhat defeated. “You challenge me and I like it. At least let me buy you dinner and to prove to you that I am not always such an arrogant prick, I will bring you safely back home, see you to your door and leave like a perfect gentleman. Please.” “Dinner?” She mocked with a raised eyebrow. From her limited experiences with men, she had concluded many a time that when men typically bought a woman dinner, there was an expectation of a returned favor that did not involve food. “Yes, dinner. That is why I came over.” “You broke into my house-“ “I entered the same way that I did last night, so technically I did not break and enter.” The stared at each other in a sort of silent stand-off until Terri relented with an “Ok.” It took Luther a second to comprehend that she actually agreed without much of a fight when she said, “But only one these conditions: you stick to your word-no funny business. You asked me, I did not ask you and so I owe you nothing. And, you have to honestly explain to me how the hell you ended up on my couch last night.” He smiled, flashing those dazzling bright whites that could light up a room. “Fair enough.”

Heart of a Soldier

It takes a real man to love a woman entirely. A real man is unafraid of loving a woman’s soul. He is able to see into the depths of her heart and embark on the journey that leads directly to that sacred diamond heavily guarded by her spirit. Most men run, fearing the worst and it is when a woman shows you her worse when a man is granted entry into the domain that she protects the most: her heart. Most men are distracted by outward appearances; sometimes she does it intentionally, and sometimes, she does it because she is unaware that there is so much more to her than her looks, or what she can do in the bedroom. Soldiers are warriors. They tread where others fear to go; they push through any obstacle and fight until they draw their last breath…

I need a soldier…

The love of a woman carries the intensity of the relentless and all consuming heat of the sun. It will burn at first contact, but the nurturing warmth that it offers provides so much more than what is appreciated: it heals, it warms, it nurtures, and most importantly, it chases away the darkness. A man left alone in the dark, just like a plant will never grow to his fullest potential. He will never know the beauty of the day, until he meets the sun. A soldier confronts his darkness, and seeks refuge in the light.

I want a soldier….

Real men love without fear…they love without hesitation…without demand…they love…

If you love her, love her with the heart of a soldier.