Friday, May 27, 2011

galerie erotique by Keith Kareem Williams (Sneak Peek)

galerie erotique


by Keith Kareem Williams



An art gallery was the last place he expected to spend his Friday evening. A bar, lounge or club was usually more to his taste. Whatever her knew about fine art he’d taught himself by reading books or by paying close attention to discussions on the subject. He’d also dated an art major once so that also helped. He had no serious interest in paintings or sculptures but occasionally, the knowledge made it much easier to hold conversations with potential clients. In fact, it was one of his best clients who suggested that he attend this particular event. All week he’d been in a grim mood so socializing had been the furthest thing from his mind. However, as he strolled through the bourgeois crowd, he was glad that he had changed his mind. The place was saturated with tailored suits, designer stilettos, diamonds and pearls, all swimming in a sea of wealth. Celebrities, moguls, titans of business, and infamous socialites were scattered everywhere. They held hollow conversations while they sipped expensive champagne and pretended to admire the art. Most of them were simply giddy to be surrounded by people with similar lifestyles. In many ways, he was the outsider but that didn’t bother him at all. In this jungle, they were the herd that outnumbered him but he was the lion that stalked them stealthily as he moved through the tall grass. He put his game face on as if he belonged and began to hunt his prey.

He worked the room like a professional. He’d done this a thousand times before and each time, he’d gotten better at it. He smiled, shook hands, kissed stranger’s faces, held friendly conversations but was careful to never formally introduce himself. Everyone that he interacted with simply pretended that they actually knew who he was. He seemed so relaxed and comfortable in their presence that none of them dared to ask him too much, fearful that their inquiries might offend him. They all understood how unwise it was to bruise egos unnecessarily.

Once he’d made his way around the lavish event, he decided that it was time to fall back in order to observe his surroundings on a deeper level. That night, he hunted big game and not everyone qualified as the species of clientele he was after. He was certain that as the evening stretched on, certain individuals would naturally become more loose and reckless. He watched for this as he patiently patrolled the gala. His champagne had started to get warm and as he tipped back his glass to finish it, he spotted her from the corner of his eye. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed her before.

While everyone else mingled and socialized, she sat alone on a red couch. She was the only one in the entire gallery that wasn’t talking to anyone else so he should have noticed her before. Only the champagne bottle that sat at her feet kept her company. She was also absolutely gorgeous and he never overlooked gorgeous women. She was very different from most of the paper-thin females in attendance. The black dress she wore hugged every plus-sized curve on her body. She was a big girl for sure but he thought she had a beautiful frame. Even though she was sitting down he could tell that she had hips for days and her cleavage was insane. He couldn’t help but undress her with his eyes as he imagined what it might feel like in-between her warm thighs. Slowly, with his gaze fixed on her voluptuous frame, he made his way over to her and sat down beside her like a spider. The gears in his mind began to turn as he tried to decide how he would weave his web while she pretended not to notice him.

“Good evening,” he said and extended his hand. She ignored the gesture and remained focused on the admirers of the art. She watched their reactions with great intensity, almost like how a starving person might pay attention to food.

“Hello,” she answered coldly. She still hadn’t turned to look at him and halfway hoped that he would just go away on his own. She grabbed the champagne bottle by the neck, put it to her mouth and tipped it back. Dirty thoughts ran across his mind as her thick, full lips wrapped around the tip. When she was finished, she used her tongue to lick off the excess alcohol and put the bottle back down on the ground.

“So, you’re the Juliet Sinclair that has blessed us with all of this art tonight. Your paintings are beautiful,” he told her, trying to charm her as well as throw her off balance. Shocked, she finally turned to take a good look at him. Immediately, she knew that she should have just laughed and denied who she really was but there was something about him that made her curious. He had figured out her big secret and she needed to know how.

"How do you know that?" she asked nervously.

“I’m observant. It was easy enough to figure out that this is your work. I noticed how nervous you were while you watched everyone looking at the art. I could tell you had a deeper interest in their reactions than most. The red streak in your hair and the piercings were a give-away too by the way. You’re the only one in here who looks like an artist,” he explained, sounding quite pleased that he had guessed correctly.

“Wow! No one, not even the brokers that sell my work know me. None of them have ever met me in person,” she answered, not quite sure what to say next.

“Why the secrecy, if you don’t mind me asking?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“I never wanted people to kiss my ass. I always want their honest opinions. I prefer it to the brown-nosing and hollow praise that gets handed out at most of these things. I even go as far as to buy some of my own pieces just to throw everyone off so they think I’m just a supporter. The misdirection adds to the mystique of my work. It actually sells better because of it,” she said.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” he told her with a wink and one of the most charming grins she had ever seen. Somehow, she could feel the sincerity in his smile. She decided that it was safe to play with him.

“Not good enough. Now that you know my big secret, you’ll have to share one of yours with me or I’ll have to kill you,” she joked.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes, really,” she answered.

“Well, in that case, I’ll tell you something that no one else here tonight knows,” he said. He looked around and pretended to make sure that no one was in earshot of them before he leaned in and whispered to her, “My real name is January.”

“Are you joking?” she asked, laughing heartily. She slapped him on the thigh but liked the way his flesh felt so she left her hand there.

“Not at all. My parents named me after my birth month. I guess they weren’t very creative,” he explained.

“I guess not,” she answered, wiping tears from her eyes from laughing so hard. When she caught her breath, she noticed that he was still smiling which was good. She hadn’t intended to offend him. As she continued to giggle, she kept her grip on his leg and squeezed him. He didn’t seem to mind and she surprised herself with her boldness. Juliet looked at the empty champagne bottle at her feet and decided that she would just blame it on all the liquor she’d guzzled that night.

“Most people call me Jan for short. I know, it’s feminine but I’m comfortable enough in my masculinity that it doesn’t bother me,” he told her.

“I can see that,” she answered. She was incredibly turned on by his presence. He had managed to step into her personal space aggressively but also balanced it off masterfully by being subtle and smooth. She caught his eyes on her thighs which were pressed together tightly as her panties got moist. She felt it and blushed as she wondered if he could tell.

“Are you an art dealer?” Juliet asked.

“Me, an art dealer? No, not at all,” he answered, almost as if the notion had been more ridiculous than his real name. “I’m really here for the networking.”

“Networking huh? So, what type of business are you involved in?” she asked. Her question was followed by an awkward, uncomfortable silence. “Now, that’s unfair. You know how I earn my money but I don’t know how you make yours,” she continued, causing him to grin again but this time, without the confidence he had displayed before. It was obvious that he had suddenly become very uncomfortable and she could see in his face that he thought very hard before he answered.

“Well, I guess I am a dealer of sorts but more along the lines that would be considered criminal,” he began to explain. Then, he leaned in close to her ear again before he whispered the last bit. “I peddle illegal, temporary happiness to people who can afford it.”

“Oh, so you’re just a common drug dealer,” she said, frowning as she realized just what his occupation really was, no matter how he chose to describe it. He immediately seemed slightly less dashing to her.

“There’s absolutely nothing common about me,” he immediately answered. His confidence had not wavered, not even slightly. She liked it and she felt guilty for liking it. There was also something dangerous and edgy in his tone. She could read the double-meaning hidden in his answer and her body responded by throbbing in her most feminine places.

“How so?” she asked, intrigued by what January’s answer might be.

“I haven’t made a hand-to-hand sale since I was thirteen. I’m here because one of my clients suggested it. You see, the types of people that are here, enjoying your artwork are very discreet when it comes to their habits and vices. They do their dirt in the dark at all costs. It’s a safe, lucrative, win-win situation for me,” he told her.

Juliet listened to his explanation and her curiosity subsided slightly in favor of her better judgment. The voice of reason in her head screamed that getting involved in any way with this man was a horrible idea. January read her body language and felt a chill come over her after he had been sure she was warming up to him. He quickly changed the subject.

“Where are you from originally?” he asked her. He was already taken by her so for him, it was too late to turn back. He had to have her. He’d do whatever it took to re-kindle her interest.

“I was born and raised in Arizona. I moved to New York two years ago,” she answered.

“Interesting,” January answered.

“Why? Don’t I look like a desert girl?” she joked. He was glad that her mood had lightened.

It’s just that most of your paintings feature water as their main theme,” he said.

“Well, I guess coming from such a dry place, I’ve always been fascinated with anything wet,” she told him.

“Me too,” he answered, wetting his lips as he stared at her cleavage.

“You’re fresh I see,” she answered after she realized what he was looking at. She could feel her heart beat faster because of the way he looked at her. She opened her legs, separating her thighs for the first time since he’d sat down beside her. She was a little ashamed that after finding out what he did for a living, she hadn’t been frightened away.

“Very,” he answered before showing her just how fresh he was. He took her hand and put it on the bulge between his legs that had started to pulse and throb.

“Mmm, interesting,” she said. Her voice trembled in eager anticipation as she felt him grow. She squeezed him and tightened her grip to let him know that she wasn’t afraid.

“Interesting that I’m flirting with you?” he asked, even though he knew that they had crossed way beyond the borders of harmless flirtation.

“No,” she lied. “Interesting that a drug dealer would have any knowledge of art at all. I’ve never met a cultured criminal before.”

“Now I’m insulted. As a matter of fact, I happen to be a bit of an artist myself,” he told her.

“Really? How so?” Juliet asked, somewhat intrigued. She was still more focused on the bulge in his slacks that seemed to grow the more they talked.

“Let me show you,” he said and took her by the hand. “Is there somewhere we can be alone?”

“Yes,” she answered as she got up off of the couch with her heart pounding so loud that she almost swore that he could hear it. Juliet didn’t know why she felt so reckless. Again, she thought about all of the alcohol in her system but she knew that wasn’t it. She was in the mood for excitement and the thrill of sneaking off with a total stranger.



***Once the official green light has been given....I'll let you know what erotic anthology this will be appearing in.****

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Crossroads: An Anthology

FINALLY........IT'S READY! Here's the backcover blurb for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy.

Welcome to the Morning Perk, the best place in the neighborhood to grab a bite to eat, network, meet and mingle. The hustle and bustle as the traffic from every walk of life passes through its doors gives insight into four intriguing stories of love, lust, revenge, jealousy, and murder.


Meet Wednesday’s Customer, Elijah Bower, a man who lives a charmed life, enjoying the finer things in life, who changes women like he changes his clothes, a man who, for a price, would eliminate any breathing human being whose name you wrote on a piece of paper.

Feel Stacy’s pain as she recalls the innocent words: "It’s only For One Night," she told her with a beautiful smile. For reasons she still can't explain she believed her. Now she’s pregnant by a man she met one time. Her dilemma deepens because she doesn't have the slightest clue how she should break the news to her lover Janelle.

Maybe Brenda should have studied The Pre-req-ui-sites of Per-di-tion a little more carefully. She has a secret that has started to unravel her mind. Danger is everywhere as the wrath of those she has wronged is hot on her heels. Will the truth turn her life into a wasteland she can't escape?

Today Tony was reaching out, In Desperation; to the last person in the world he thought could help him. Last night he was in heaven; asking the woman he loved to marry him. She accepted and he was on top of the world. The next day she disappeared and he found himself under investigation by the police. Then there was the Bald Man--mysterious, single minded, lethal. He wanted Tony dead.
PURCHASE LINK:
http://www.amazon.com/Crossroads-An-Anthology-ebook/dp/B005964QO6/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=books&qid=1309879935&sr=1-6

Monday, May 23, 2011

Keith Kareem Williams Present’ed →CHAT BOUT®: WRITER’S EDITION Vol.1

There are tons of events for authors to showcase and sell their material. There are also tons of events that aren’t worth their weight in participation fees. The event organizers collect the money from eager, enthusiastic people with dreams but don’t ever seem to really care if anyone even attends the event once they’ve made THEIR money. This is obvious when you realize that the event organizers spend 95% of their time soliciting artists to pay their fees rather than actually trying to get the general public to show up. At most of these events, you end up trading books with other authors. If that’s what we wanted to do, we could all meet in coffee shops to network for free. I peeped game, recognized the hustle and all I have to say is this, “Please pardon my back!” I’m not a fan of scams so I’m off that. I’ve also learned that if something that I’d like to see doesn’t exist I might as well create it myself.

Ever since I made the announcement, I’ve been nervous. It was the first time I’d be hosting my own event so I really didn’t know what to expect. Nerves were getting the best of me until I spoke to my muse. She told me that I shouldn’t be nervous at all. She told me that I should just feel confident and comfortable being the “Boss” that she knows I am. That’s all I needed to hear. (That’s why “she’s” my muse….gotta love her!) The pressure was on to fill the venue but, I felt that I would get it done…even when I had the option to push the date back.

The day of the event, I’m the first one in the building. (As it should be) Still, I was wired, sleep deprived and still anxious to see the seats filled. Panic was always lurking right around the corner until my phone started ringing and folks let me know that they were on their way. At the end of the day, the people who have love and support always show up when you need them. Now that I knew that the crowd would be there, I could breathe easier. There was still the question of whether or not the authors, poets and singer would do their thing.

The lights dimmed and “All the Above” by Maino started to play over the sound system. This is the song I chose for my intro as I stepped to the podium. Once the music stopped, I let the audience understand who I was and why I chose that song. I told them about the everyday grind that has now become mine as I market and promote these novels that I write. (In the blog type “Welcome to the Trap” to read what I explained to audience) When I was done, I left the mic for the next performer. The dap my brother/best friend gave me on my way back to the artist’s table let me know that I had done my thing. From that point on, I was ready to go.

For the rest of the evening, one-by-one, the poets and authors did their thing on stage and wowed the crowd. There were no egos and we all fir together as if we’d known each other forever even though we’d all just met for the 1st time. Were all there to showcase our work. The vibe was amazing and the energy in the room was something I’ll never forget. I feel as if my creative family just got a little bit bigger. I have a lot of love for every one of them who took the stage.

Finally, it was time for me to close out the show. I had the option to read excerpts from any of my 1st two novels but many in attendance had read them both already. They deserved to hear something fresh. I prepared a sample of an erotic short story I’d written recently but it was eight pages long. I knew that the work was quality but the true test of its worth would be if I could keep the audience engaged throughout. Also, I hadn’t read live since I read the first two chapters of “Water Flows Under Doors” (My 1st novel) way back when I was in a college fiction workshop. Still, I remembered the words of my muse as I walked back to the mic with “Run This Town” by Jay-Z banging through the sound system. That’s exactly how I felt at that moment. That’s exactly how I feel right now. As I read the sample from “galerie erotique” (My erotic short story) I could feel that I had total control of the room. I could sense everyone hanging on every word as the story coursed through my voice. I stopped in the perfect place because my intention had been to give them a taste. Even the waiters and the workers for the venue asked me where they can read more because they wanted to see what happens next.

Friday, May 20th 2011 was a good night. It was part of the beginning and part of the process where I grow a little bit more into what I want to become. Years ago, I would have never thought I would have been doing things like this. Now, I expect to be doing even more. Like I said on twitter last week, I set my swag to a million and then I broke the knob off. I plan to push myself to higher heights and beyond what I ever dreamed was possible. If you’re reading this, all I can tell you is to watch me work. It’s far from over and I’m not even close to being done. If you supported my event, thank you and know that I really do have love for you. I want you to know that these things I do are real. I don’t posture or pretend because I really get it in.


P.S. Special thanks to Patrice Crooks (My cousin) She wasted no time when I said I wanted to do this. Without her efforts, it wouldn't have been possible. I said I wanted to do this, she called me so fast to say that she'd secured a venue that my head spun. Also, I owe a great many thanks to Cortney Wright-Thomas for her help, guidance and most of all her patience. I appreciate everything you've done for me to make this event a success.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

PRICELESS!

By Keith Kareem Williams

You come through the door with heat at your back and hell on your heels. She doesn’t need answers because she can feel that things just got real. You look her straight in the eyes, tell her to pack a bag because you have to go and she’s already automatically on point. Do you know why? It’s because she’s already built to ride. It’s something that can’t be taught or learned. It’s naturally inside her.

She encourages you to be better for the right reasons and not just because she also benefits from your success. She knows your goals and dreams so she helps you get there, just because she loves the light in your eyes. She can speak without arguing and knows how to make you feel her. She has no desire to control you or change you. Her words hold weight.

She respects you just as much as she loves you. She knows when to let you lead and she understands when she has to guide you back to a better path. She means you no harm. With her right there with you, there’s nothing you can’t do. She makes you better without even trying because her influence is all natural.

She’s your angel on this earth but she’s never ever soft because when the devil’s on your back, she knows exactly how to get him off. Her kisses can heal you and her tears can break your heart. She’s that powerful.

She’s your focus and the balance on the scales. She understands you because she listens and if she was gone, it would feel like everything important to you was missing. She’s the treble to your base and she can read your thoughts by just looking at your face. You can pillow talk away your secrets and she’ll take your secrets to her grave. She knows every single weakness that you hide but she’ll never use them against you.

She takes every inch of you but won’t complain. Even when you cause her pain, she loves you just the same. You can complete4ly trust her because she doesn’t desire anyone else since you touched her, even though she knows that they all lust for her. Whenever she’s out in the streets, her heart is on ice until she’s home with you.

She loves your children, ALL of your children, the ones you’ve made with her and the ones you made before. She loves them ALL because they’re all parts of you. If you died while on your mission to give them all a better life, she’d raise them all if she had to. Even after you were gone, she’d honor your life by doing her best to shape them into the quality of human beings you wanted them to be.

What is she worth? A woman like her is priceless. She’s worth you risking your life for her. She’s worth your death if that’s what it takes to keep her safe. You can let your pride die for her. She’s worth every risk as you put your heart in harm’s way. She’s always the one I want, on EVERY given day. She’s worth everything it takes to get her and then everything it takes to keep her.