Sunday, April 2, 2017

NaNoWriMo: Here's A Preview of What I'm Working On

Inspired by National Writing Month.

It is one of those months where authors who have been lacking in creativity are forcing themselves to start a new novel based off the motivation of others doing it at the same time. I actually started working on some stories for a future book a month ago and I'm ready to reveal an excerpt. Are you ready to read it? Warning: It's a little explicit. 

Prostitute Fantasy 

I wanted to hold on to the moment, so I watched Q sleep. His real name was Quinton, but I called him Q. 

I had gotten up to turn off the lights. Before moving, I could feel our hearts beating in sync. He was on his back sleeping peacefully. His dark chocolate skin had an after glow. The visuals from the television cast a perfect lighting. His dreads were spread out wildly. His boxers were halfway off of him with his dick still hanging out. He had fallen asleep in the middle of my living room floor immediately after we had sex. He was disguised as an angel and I was fighting the idea of falling for him. 

Our lust-filled relationship had started months ago on a random Sunday. Growing up Sundays were reserved for church, washing clothes, and naps. Even if I tried to sleep in by 8:30 am one of my parents would be in my room waking me up and telling me to get dressed.  Because of my lazy sleeping pattern, I would be counting down the minutes until church was over so I could eat. As an adult living on my own, I had abandoned the idea of waking up for church on Sundays. Instead, I would wake up and do whatever I wanted. I have no recollection of what I did before meeting him on that particular Sunday. However, so much happened the first time, I didn’t have time to really capture the moment. 

On this particular night I would take in everything. It all started with a phone call that happened approximately week before. After the first time we had sex, I didn’t hear from him. He didn’t call me and I didn’t bother to pick up the phone and call him either. I had a rule. If the relationship was built around only sex, the man had to get in touch with me. 

When he finally did call, I was standing outside on the side of a building near my apartment complex in some shorts and a t-shirt. It was a nice day for walking, so I had decided to get out. My headphones were in and music from my Itunes was on shuffle. All of a sudden the music stopped and my phone started ringing. 


“Hey, is that you I just saw on the side of the road?” 

“Yeah, I’m out here. That’s so random you would call.” I recognized Q’s voice right away. It made me tense up. I had made up my mind that I would never hear from him again. 

“Yeah,” he said while laughing a little. “I’m actually headed to work, but wanted to call when I saw you. Can I call tonight?”


He did call later on that night ready to see me, but I wasn’t ready for him.
Have you ever had men tell you that you did things to turn them on even though you weren’t trying? Well, just by being in that spot at that time, I gave him a prostitute fantasy that he could not get out of his mind until he saw me again. 

It was a random work night in the middle of the week when I let him fulfill whatever fantasy he had of me. But I didn’t need to stand outside again. I just needed to let him come over. At the time I was working from 3 pm until midnight, so I was willing to stay up for as long as he wanted. However, right after we finishing doing it in my living room, he immediately fell asleep. 

Why did we have sex in the living room? Well, years ago I heard Mariah Carey speak of the bedroom as a sacred place that you shouldn’t let everyone into. So I then decided that every man didn’t need to have access to my bedroom, but they would be allowed into other places of my house. 

Initially, I tried to wake Q up but then I left him alone. He had mentioned coming over straight from work. So I studied him. From the top of his head down to his feet, I took in every essence of who he was physically. Then I started to let my mind roam to who he might be mentally. Was he more than just some fuck boy? Did he have more to him than just sexual pleasure? How smart was he? What were his capabilities business and family wise? For some reason my mind wouldn’t let me wonder too far.  Instead Brandy’s song Angel In Disguise kept replaying in my head, except I changed the lyrics from her to him. 
“An angel in disguise he was,
But somehow you fell for him. 
Until he broke your heart that day 
And left you in the rain.”

There's more, but you have to wait for the book. I'll reveal the title and cover to you soon. 

No comments :

Post a Comment