Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Another Glass Goddess

Just another sample to let readers feel the vibe of where I'm going with this book...........
Glass Goddesses, Concrete Walls 2012

She said only I make her complete...because I made her leak her heart and soul on these sheets. I smiled a little bit but as always remained modest, as I watched her break into a million pieces.... just another glass goddess.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Sample of "Colder Than January" by Keith Kareem WIlliams

I realize that I have neglected my blog for far too long as I make a push to finish the final chapters of "Glass Goddesses, Concrete Walls." However,the followers of my blog know that I'm never idle and I rarely work on just one project at a time. The fans of my erotic fiction should look forward to a new series that I'm going to be releasing...real soon. I've dubbed it the "Reem After Dark Series" and now, I present to you the 1st chapter of the 1st novella in the series.......

Colder Than January

by Keith Kareem Williams

Copyright © 2011 Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved.

I dedicate this novel to all of the beautiful women I have ever known in the past or will eventually meet in the future.

CHAPTER 1 - Galerie Erotique
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 he 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.

Juliet could feel January’s eyes on her behind as she led him through the gallery. She purposely rocked her wide hips just a little more, just to make sure he saw just how much ass she really had. He wasn’t mad at all as he thought about all of the things he would do to it if she let him. His imagination told him that everyone could see his privates through his slacks, hard against his thigh as he walked. There was no room left in his boxer-briefs so his tip had just slipped past the bottom of the right leg of the cotton material. Finally, they reached the end of a lonely corridor. Juliet looked around one final time to make sure that no one saw them before she quickly pulled him inside the room. She locked the door behind them which cause a steady stream of erotic mischief to run through January’s mind.

The room appeared to be used for storage and was filled with all kinds of furniture, covered with dusty drop cloths. January pulled the covering off of the nearest antique couch and sat her down on it. Juliet bit her bottom lip as he took two steps away from her and started to unbutton his shirt. He walked back towards her to lay it down neatly on the arm of the chair. This time, he only took one step away from her as he lifted his undershirt up over his head. She was in awe as she looked at him. January wasn’t particularly cut or rippling with muscles but he was a strongly constructed man. However, that’s not what caught her attention. His upper body was covered in tattoos. There were incredibly detailed portraits of loved lost ones’ haunting faces. Letters written in calligraphy illustrated sentimental strings of words that held great meaning to him. There were also mythological beasts in conflict mixed with modern imagery. Somehow, they all flowed together beautifully without seeming cluttered or confusing.

“Wow, you’re beautiful,” she told him as he turned slowly so she could see his back as well. He turned around to face her before he spoke again.

“Thank you. Of course I didn’t ink them on but I drew and designed each one myself. They all flow together and tell the story of my life,” he explained and for the first time that night, she could hear humility in his voice.

Juliet stood up and took a step towards him to close the gap between them. She sent a chill through his body as she gently ran her fingers against his flesh. She traced the slightly raised lines of ink that had been imbedded in his skin by the painful kisses and caress of the tattoo needle. She could feel his chest tremble as his heart pounded like a base drum. She knew that his blood was hot as it coursed quickly through his entire body. She softly kissed the lips of the faces inked on his skin.

“They’re all amazing,” she told him before she ran her wet tongue across the wings of the dragon that stretched out across his shoulder. Then, she hastily unbuckled his pants to see exactly what kind of man he was. She wasn’t disappointed. She was even happier when she began to skillfully stroke him sensuously and felt him grow. She wanted to see it for herself. Breathless, she took her hand out of his underwear and sat back down on the couch. She raised her skirt before she did and spread her legs so that he could see how thick her dainty lips were behind her damp panties. January got even harder at the sight of her most private parts.

“Is there anything else you want to show me?” she asked, sliding her fingers into her underwear. He could see her fingers moving behind the beige lace and wished it was his tongue instead. The scent of her perfume still lingered, even after she stepped away from him and he could only imagine what she would taste like.

“There are a few things I’d like to show you,” he answered as he watched her stimulate herself. First he took his shoes off, then his socks and then his pants. Finally, he stepped out of his boxer-briefs and stood completely naked. To Juliet, it felt as if he cast a shadow over her as he stood in front of her, erect and imposing. January followed her eyes, fixed between his legs and began to stroke himself slowly as she watched, almost hypnotized.

“So I see,” she answered, licking her lips. There was something about the way he handled it that gave her the impression that he knew how to use it. She knew that she knew exactly what to do with it.

“No, you haven’t seen anything yet. Take off your dress,” he commanded. There was nothing charming or polite about the way he asked her. She loved it. Never in her life had she gotten out of a dress faster. Usually, she was shy about her body but he looked at her with such lust that any feelings of inadequacy for being full-figured disappeared.

“What now?” she asked once her dress was off and tossed aside.

“Now the bra,” he told her. Immediately, she lifted each cup and let her breasts fall from it before she unhooked it from the back. She covered her nipples with her hands and was turned on by how hard they were against her palms. Without saying a word, January motioned for her to move her hands away. She eagerly complied and reached for the waist of her lace panties to slide them off as well but he stopped her.

“I got that!” he said and got down on his knees in front of her.

January didn’t pull her underwear off right away, even though he knew her body longed for him to. He wanted to tease her so that she ached for him to take her. Juliet pulled on her own hair and writhed in anticipation as he kissed her soft spot through her panties. He could feel how hot and wet she was as he pressed his lips firmly against her thick kitty lips. He was pleased when she put her hand on his head and let out a tiny scream. He knew that she was trying her best to hold back. He loved it and after that, his goal was simply to drive her to madness before sexual satisfaction. Her chest heaved as she breathed and his tongue tickled as she felt it slide from her knees until it worked its way deeper into her inner thighs. She began to roll her hips as she thought she might go insane. She lifted her full breasts to her face and sucked her own nipples. January looked up as she switched from left to right, staring down at him as she did. He gripped the waist of her panties and dragged them off. It was time for the real business to begin.

Slowly, he worked his tongue between her legs until he’d licked up every bit of her wetness. He didn’t know which was more slick, his tongue or her pussy lips. He moaned as he tasted her and the vibration sent shivers through her body. He worked his mouth passionately, almost as if he was kissing her mouth. She wanted to squirm away but his grip on her thighs held her firmly in place. He sucked her clit with just the right pressure and Juliet felt that her head might split. She couldn’t believe that she wanted to cum already. It was too soon. He was beyond good and she fought against it as hard as she could. She didn’t want to completely surrender, at least not that fast. For the first time, she imagined that this was what men went through every time they found themselves deep inside something good. Just when she thought she would burst for sure, he backed off and looked up at her. His lips, nose and chin were completely covered in glistening juice from her body. Oh shit she thought as he licked his lips. January smiled as he read exactly what she’d said in her mind in her eyes. He winked at her mischievously before he lifted her legs back in the air and buried his face between her thighs again. She didn’t know that he’d only just begun.

As her clit throbbed, January slid his tongue in between her pussy lips again but this time, he didn’t stop. She jumped as he worked his tongue further down than she expected. Her bent her legs so far back that she could see her own ankles and dragged her to the edge of the couch so that her juicy ass was hanging off of it.

“Hold on,” he told her and made her hold on to her legs. She didn’t hesitate and couldn’t believe that he had her bent like a pretzel on the couch. First he stared at her thick cheeks. Nothing turned him on more than a woman with a plump ass that jiggled. He had plans for her since he’d watched her swing her hips as she walked in front of him. He kissed the bottom of one cheek and then the other. Then he paused. She couldn’t see him so she wondered what he was doing. She wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. He put pressure on her legs and bent her back a little further. Then, he kissed her between the cheeks right before he pressed his tongue to her ass. Her whole body shook. The sensation was strange but she didn’t want him to stop. Her legs shook as he tickled her hole, circling the opening with his tongue. He could tell she liked it by the way she moaned and groaned over and over saying Oh yes.

“Want more?” he asked her.

“Oh God yes,” she answered.

January brought her legs down and flipped her over. Now Juliet was on her knees with her breasts pressed against the rough material of the couch. Again, he spread her cheeks and worked his tongue against her hole. She loved it and he could tell by the way she threw her ass back against his face. Her kitty still throbbed and as he touched it she soaked his hand. He backed off, just to admire her bent over. She swayed her ass from side to side as she looked back at him. He held his dick in his hand and she could read in his eyes what he wanted to do with it. She didn’t care. She would let him do whatever he wanted tonight. Everything was his.

“You want it?” he asked.

“Yes, give me all of it,” she whispered back.

He swore he heard her almost purr as he rubbed the thick tip of his dick against her pussy lips. He had to keep one hand pressed firmly against her butt to keep her from throwing it back before he was ready to give it to her. Then, he slipped the head in.

“More?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, breathless.

Slowly, he gave her the first stroke and she swore he touched her soul. She felt every inch as he stretched her lips and filled her up until he hit the back of her kitty kat. Once he touched her back wall, he slowly pulled it almost all the way back out. January loved the way her pussy looked, wrapped around his dick as he backed up. He looked down at his shaft and saw her white cream covering it. He gripped her hips and started to bury his dick in her pussy, over and over again. He loved the way her ass bounced as he rocked her body back and forth. It tuned him on how she rolled it with his rhythm. At first the strokes were slow as they felt each other’s bodies out. When she started throwing it back harder, he knew she was ready for more. She looked back at him and smiled as he looked back at her with his business face. She loved it. January reached up, grabbed a fist full of her hair and tilted her head back. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth as she prepared for what she knew was coming next.

As he pulled her hair, his strokes became harder and faster. She could feel him deeper than before. He went deeper every stroke even though there was nowhere else for him to go. It hurt but not enough for her to make him stop. She felt full as he seemed to get bigger inside as he scraped her walls. She couldn’t believe she was getting fucked like this. As soon as she thought it, she came. January felt her gush and squirt. He left it inside her throbbing as she recovered from the orgasm before he got back to work on her. When he started again, he went straight back to hard strokes. Now, he wasn’t playing with her. There would be no teasing. He was here to do one thing and that was to give her the business. He let go of her hair and put one hand on her hip. The other one he used to grip her shoulder and drag her back on his dick. She loved how strong he was. Stroke after stroke after stroke he punished her pussy. The second orgasm came even easier for her. She wondered when he would come.

Juliet looked back at him as he pounded her doggy-style. She reached back and spread her cheeks with her hands. January let spit drip from his mouth and into her butt. He used his thumb to wet it and slowly stroke the opening. He heard her moan and knew she liked it. Before she knew it, he had slipped a finger inside it. Then he slipped two in. She felt nasty for letting him do it but it felt amazing to be this freaky. The feeling was maddening as his fingers and dick worked her out at the same time. She let go of her cheeks and turned to look at him while she stuck her fingers in her mouth. She loved the feeling of having something in every hole. She came again. She couldn’t take it anymore. She wanted him to cum. She was going to give him something she felt that he deserved.

Juliet reached back and pulled his dick out of her. She was breathing heavy and he wondered if she needed to catch her breath. He wasn’t sure what she wanted next; at least not up until she licked her lips mischievously.

“Give it to me,” she told him. He didn’t hesitate.

January stared at her thick lips as she licked them with her tongue. He could only imagine how they would feel. Juliet took a moment to stare at his wet dick before she got right below him and didn’t waste any time. She moaned as she tasted her own juices. Her warm mouth was enough to make his eyes roll as she took his dick deeper into her throat every time she rocked forward. She gasped for air as she backed off far enough to let it fall out of her mouth. Her saliva dripped from his tip and onto her breasts. She grabbed his thighs and tried to swallow it again. January nearly lost his mind. He closed his eyes and held the back of her head as he listened to her wet mouth work. She grabbed his shaft and pulled it out of her mouth again. This time, he looked and saw the string of spit from her mouth to his dick. She stroked it with both hands as she looked up at him.

“I’m about to cum,” he warned her. She already knew because she could taste it. As soon as he said it, she opened her mouth wide and wrapped her lips back around his dick. She could feel it pulsate. She started to suck it again, this time soft and slow. He could feel his dick throbbing in her mouth. Every time he hit the back of her throat, he came closer to exploding. She knew it too but she didn’t back away. He knew that she wanted him to cum in her mouth. She moaned deeply as she tasted it and felt it. Finally, he let go. She stopped moving her head. She let it fill her mouth before she started to suck out whatever was left in his shaft. January nearly passed out. Finally, she took it out of her mouth. She let the thick cream drip out of her mouth and onto her breasts. She smiled at him with a naughty grin as she licked it back up.

“You like that huh?” she asked him. He couldn’t speak. He only answered with a nod.

Juliet had no regrets but a wave of bashfulness came over her as she thought about everything she’d just done with him. Still on her knees, she suddenly found that she couldn’t look him in the eye and blushed as she turned her face away. January noticed this and smiled. He got down on the floor beside her and forced her to look at him as he held her face in his hands. She waited anxiously for him to say something to make her feel a little less uncomfortable but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed her passionately until they were both breathless. When they finally stopped, he stared at her as he played in her hair. He felt silly and didn’t know how long the feeling would last but at that moment, he loved her. He didn’t know why and he couldn’t believe it. His sense of logic wrestled with his passion as he questioned whether or not it was a good idea to get caught up because he barely knew her. He hoped that the moment would pass. He also knew that the longer he stayed there with her, softly touching her skin with his fingers and kissing her face was the harder it was going to be to break the connection. He put his lips to her neck and then her collarbone. As she held his head and pressed it against her breast, January realized that he had been a fool because all the while he thought he was being smooth and charming, she had trapped him in her web without him even knowing it. It felt as if she had allowed him to believe he was the spider when he actually had been the fly all along.

At the same time, as Juliet held him, she knew that she played a dangerous game with this man who was basically a stranger. It had been a long time since she’d let loose sexually with anyone. She knew that she should have just got dressed as soon as they had finished. The longer they lingered in the room together was the more confusing things would become. This was exactly the type of situation where signals were easily crossed, emotions became unclear and hearts became broken. The sex had been great but she didn’t want to mistake her body’s sensations as true feelings for this man. All the same, she knew that life wasn’t worth living without taking risks. She sensed that he was wrestling with the same thoughts that she was. She decided to do her best to keep him in the dark about what she was really feeling for the moment. Being cautious couldn’t hurt after all of the reckless things they’d done that night.

“What now?” she whispered.

***The chapter you just read first appeared in this sexually charged, seductive anthology:
The feedback I recieved encouraged me to expand January and Juliette's story to let the readers know EXACTLY what happens next. Be prepared for more excitement, danger and of course...more steamy sex.***

Introducing the 1st novella in the Reem After Dark Series:
Colder Than January

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Stolen Kisses and Diamonds

Stolen Kisses and Diamonds

By Keith Kareem Williams

***Here's a sample of the short, EROTIC, Valentine's Day tale that I recently penned for Naughty Ink Press' upcoming "Little Black Book." Enjoy and as usual, feel free to leave your comments.***

As Giselle relaxed on the metal steps behind the store, the smoke from her cigarette helped to dull the stench from the restaurant next door's dumpster, but only slightly. Because of the city and its smoking rules she couldn't even light up in front of her own place of business. Things had been surprisingly slow at her boutique which was unusual for Valentine's season. The economy must have been worse than she thought if so few men had showed up to buy gifts for their significant others and if that was the case, even the mistresses of the world must have really had things hard. She decided that if things didn't pick up she would give Maxine the rest of the day off because she really wouldn't need the extra help.

Now there's a man with the Valentine's Day spirit, she thought as she saw him walking down the back street with a bouquet of flowers in hand and a box of chocolates tucked under his arm. She gasped as he raised the lid of the restaurant's green dumpster and tossed everything in with the stinking, rotting leftovers.

"What's the matter? She doesn't like candy and flowers?" Giselle asked. He seemed slightly startled when he heard her voice. He hadn't even noticed her sitting there. She wasn't used to men no noticing her, especially not from only five or six feet away.

"She tasted like cigarettes. Three nights in a row she tasted like cigarettes when I kissed her," he answered, looking like a lost puppy. To see such a handsome man so sad seemed tragic, especially on a day reserved for happy lovers. What's gotten into Cupid today, she thought.

"So you're throwing away her Valentine's Day gifts? Wow, that's harsh. Smokers get no love in this city anymore. We can't smoke indoors, there are no more smoking sections in bars or restaurants and we can't even smoke in front of public places anymore. I guess I should put mine out then huh?"

"She doesn't smoke."

"She doesn't smoke? So how come she tasted like cigarettes?" Giselle dropped hers to the ground and extinguished its feeble flame with the heel of her designer shoe.

"I kissed her and she tasted like cigarette smoke. When I asked her she said that one of her co-workers always smoked when they went to lunch. That's how she explained it when I asked."

"Ok, there you have it. So, why are you throwing away that stuff away?"

"I meant to give her this," he answered and took a small pink box out of the pocket of his faded, blue workpants. He flipped open the lid and inside was a diamond ring.

"Wow, that's nice. Come closer and let me see it." She couldn't help but smile when he handed it over. It was a humble thing and by no means the most expensive ring. Giselle was certain that even her earrings or any other trinket her own boyfriend had given her was worth at least ten times more but money had never been an issue with John. The condition of this distraught and forlorn man's work clothes suggested that he was not a man of wealth. She could only imagine how much of a financial strain the purchase of such a thing had been on him.

"Keep it," he told Giselle. He had really meant to dump it along with the flowers and the candy but couldn't bring himself to do it. He preferred to give it away. It seemed too sinful to cast such a pretty, precious thing away in a dumpster full of filth.

"You planned on throwing this away too huh? Why?"

"I saw her get out of his car. I meant to surprise her at her job. She got out of his car and he drove past me, smoking with the windows down in his fancy car. She didn’t see me so I turned around and left.

"Yikes, you sir are definitely having a bad day. I wouldn't feel right keeping this though."

"Give it away, pawn it, or throw it down a drain. I should have. I don't care really care what you do with it."

"I couldn't. I'm sure you worked really hard to pay for it."

"It took me two years. Doesn't matter now though."

"I tell you what, this is my boutique. Come inside and pick out something. I'll trade you for it."

"That's ok. I need to go."

"Where are you going? You just found out that your woman is probably cheating on you. You could only be going off to get nice and drunk, or cry, or maybe a little bit of both. You men should learn from us women. When things are going all wrong, nothing makes you feel better than shopping. You'll be my first and best customer for the day. I'm Giselle by the way. Come inside," she said, wrapping her arm up with his. She led him up the metal stairs and through the back entrance.

"I'm Ross."


"Wow, where'd you find this cutie?" Maxine asked, twirling a lock of her long black hair as she leaned on the counter beside the cash register.

"Out back with the alley cats," Giselle joked.

"Hmm, he does look like he knows his way around a pussy," Maxine answered and winked at Ross.

"Hush! Your mouth is so filthy," Giselle scolded and playfully slapped her on the hand.

"You have no idea," Maxine answered, licking her lips with her eyes still glued to Ross.

"You're such a flirt. Any customers since I left?"

"Not one."

"Well, I don't anticipate business picking up so you can take the rest of the day off. It's slow so I should be able to handle it."

"Uhum, I bet," Maxine answered, picking up her purse and slipping on her jacket. "Be good…or be good at it," she told Giselle on her way out of the front door of the store.

"This is nice," Ross said once they were alone. He was impressed by the decor. He couldn't afford the majority of the clothes judging by the price tags but he was sure that Giselle's boutique was a place frequented by the hipsters and fashionistas.

"Thanks. The interior design was all my own vision but my boyfriend paid for everything."

"Good man."

"Why? Because he has money?"

"Of course. Seems like he looks out for you."

"That's easy when you got it and he has plenty."

"Most women want a man that can do nice things for her," he answered. Thoughts of the expensive car he had seen his girlfriend in earlier made him feel small and insignificant. He always worked hard and did what he could for his girlfriend but in the end, it hadn't been enough he supposed.

"Most women? Are you calling me average sir? I'll have you know that I take great pride in being exceptional."

"No, well, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying."

"Everything has a price. Dating a man with money comes with risks too, depending on a woman's self-worth and pride. Men with money take care of you but they tend to have the nasty little habit of taking care of lots of women at the same time. A man with money is comforting and feels safe in a way but it isn't everything. Trust me on that."

"Tell that to my girlfriend."

"I don't know your woman personally but a steady flow of money keeps a basic chick's mouth shut, eyes closed and legs open. No offense. I'm just saying."

"I guess."

"As for me, I would appreciate a dinner and a movie from a faithful who didn't make a ton of money more than a vacation with a lecherous rich man who secretly kept a dozen other concubines. Maybe I'm crazy but I'd trade a fancy boutique paid for by a man who won't come to see me on Valentine's Day in a heartbeat for a diamond ring today. I want you to do me a favor," Giselle told him as she walked away from him towards the entrance of the store.

"What?" Ross asked, admiring the way she walked in her jeans and heels. Heartbroken or not, he was still a man and blood still pumped through his veins. Giselle was a very attractive woman. If he was being honest, he would have to admit that his girlfriend would look below-average and mediocre at best standing next to her.

"I can feel you staring at my butt you know," she said to him over her shoulder as she locked the front door and flipped over the Open/Closed sign.

"Sorry," he said as he tried to look anywhere else but at her as she walked back to him.

"For what?" she giggled. She almost burst out laughing when his eyes kept finding their way to her cleavage, courtesy of the open buttons on her blouse. "Like I was saying, I need a favor from you."

"Depends on what it is."

"I want you to kiss me the same way that you would have kissed her." She stepped closer to him so that her breasts slightly touched his chest, just enough to tease him.

"What?" he asked, totally surprised by her request. The counter behind him stopped him from taking a step back. He was pinned.

"Don't be scared. Remember, your girlfriend's been kissing someone else too and probably worse." she told him, taking his hand and putting it on her round hip. Even through the course material of her jeans he could tell how soft her body was. She smiled and brought her lips closer to his face. He was about to half-heartedly protest but her mouth was already on his before he could speak. He resisted, still in shock but both of his hands found their way behind her to squeeze the soft cheeks he had been staring at moments before.

"If that's the best you can do I gotta admit, I wouldn't want to be your woman either. That might be why she's cheating…" Giselle started to say before Ross grabbed her by the hair, yanked her head back and kissed her the rough and passionate way that she wanted to be kissed. "Ok, that's more like it," she said breathlessly. The next thing Ross knew, she had grabbed him by the arm and was pulling him behind the counter on the other side of the cash register.

"What are you doing?"

"You gave me what I wanted. Now I'm going to give you what I would have given my man if he had showed up today with flowers, candy and a diamond ring in a pretty pink box."

***Please believe me when I say that it gets interesting.....and I mean REALLY interesting after this.....BUT, you'll just have to wait and see.***
Special thanks to Melodi "Writerchick" Roberts of Naughty Ink Press for inviting me to once again, pick up my pen and set the pages on fire. Click the link and "Like" the Facebook page for all updates: http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Naughty-Inks-Little-Black-Book/263722203683198
In the meantime.........check out my other titles here: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0063K6JJC

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Dedicated to the brothas!! by Author Lakia McDaniel

I want to send a special thanks to Author Lakia McDaniel for posting this on my Facebook wall yesterday. It feels good to know that somebody loves us. (You can see me with my kids at the 00:45 second mark of the montage.)

Check out her books here: http://booksbylakia.com/ 

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Sample of "The Songstress"

Sample from the chapter titled: "The Songstress"
-an excerpt from "Glass Goddesses, Concrete Walls" by Keith Kareem Williams

As I come closer to the finish line with this novel, I'll be leaking shorter samples than before. However, I'll never stop giving readers tantalizing tastes of what I'm cooking up for you. Enjoy and feel free to leave comments.

Pin was the one who introduced me to a songwriter named Tia. We called him "Pin" because he was as slim as a twig but had a disproportionately large head on his shoulders. He had ambitions to become an R&B singer having been blessed with an amazing voice. However, he had been cursed with looks that record labels wouldn't find very marketable. All the same, he soulfully serenaded his share of pretty women right out of their panties. "They close their eyes and pretend that I'm handsome," he would always tell us. I suspected that Tia had been one of his victims which is what made my entanglements with her so awkward at first.

At night, I would have the entire office to myself at work so my friends would occasionally stop by to keep me company. One night, Pin came by and introduced me to Tia whom he explained had been working with him in the studio. She was good company and right away she fit right in. All three of us laughed and talked while my night mercifully flew by quicker than it normally would have, thanks to good conversation. They were both polite enough not to make me feel like a third wheel but there was that unmistakable familiarity between them that only came from a man and woman when they knew each other intimately. I have never been a man to desire any woman that one of my friends had already touched so I only saw her as one of the fellas. As soon as Pin was off to use the men's room, Tia made sure that I saw her as much more. He hadn't been gone for two minutes before she pulled up a chair right next to my desk.

"You're really a cool person. I like you," she told me and I can't say that I wasn't thrown off by her boldness.

"Thanks," was all I could think to say. Any more words than that and I would feel as if I was crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed. It didn't appear as if she cared as much as I did about boundaries.

"You're a cutie too," she said and leaned in close enough to me put her elbow on my thigh. The way she did it was so smooth that it had to be the most seemingly unintentional, intentional thing I'd ever seen a woman do.

"Thanks," I answered again.

"You look like the cat that swallowed the goldfish," she giggled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just thought that you and Pin…"

"Me and Pin what? Yes, we have. So what? We spend a lot of time in the studio together. He's a man. I'm a woman. Things happen. Music, smoke and sex to pass the time. And don't think I don't know that he has a girlfriend."

"Yeah, but still…"

"But nothing. Pin is not my man," she laughed as if I sounded ridiculous. "You think too much."

At that point, I didn't know what to think. Was she a wanton slut who would screw any and everybody? Or, was she a bitch trying to spite Pin? Whatever she was, she was strikingly easy on the eyes. Still, as pretty as she was, what I remember most about her is her voice. It was raspy for a woman but melodic and smooth, almost like honey and gravel. I was surprised that she had never thought about singing the sings she would pen herself. She asked me for my phone number and I gave it to her, seconds before Pin walked back in the room. I knew that I shouldn't have but there are certain women in this world that all men find difficult to deny. Tia the songstress was one of them.

They both stayed with me until my shift was almost over. Right before they left I stopped Pin and told him I needed to speak to him in private about something.

"Wait for me in the car," he told Tia and tossed her the keys to his red, Dodge Laser parked outside. She winked at me and flashed a mischievous grin before she turned to leave.

"I'll call you later," she said to me as she walked out and I realized that she really didn't give a damn if I told Pin about our conversation or not. All the same, he was my friend so I felt obligated to let him know what Tia was up to.

"I have my woman at home so it doesn't matter to me," he laughed after I told him everything. "Just be careful. She can be a little emotional. Ok, you've been warned."

"Once I was alone, I shut down the office and went home. I didn't necessarily believe Pin when he said he didn't care. All men are territorial to a degree, even with their random mistresses. If I crossed the line and entertained what Tia was inviting, things would always be awkward between us, no matter what he said. All of this I pondered after I got out of the shower and lay in bed. The phone rang and it didn't take Tia long to invite herself over to my place. She claimed that she only wanted to hang out but at one o'clock in the morning there was only one type of hanging out that took place between adults. As I waited for her, I couldn't get comfortable with the situation. It just felt wrong on many levels. I wasn't moral enough to tell her to stay home and I wasn't ruthless enough not to fully enjoy the anticipation of her visit. A million moral reasons to stop this before it started passed quietly though my mind while a few immoral, lust-filled ones screamed for me to just give what she was really after. It has always been tiring work wrestling with my own conscience. I was about to fall asleep when my doorbell rang.

When she walked through the door I could see in her face that she was high. There was something sleepily sexy about the drowsy red of her eyes. She looked even prettier than she had when I first met her earlier. It made me smile to think that she had made the extra effort to get all dolled up just for me. As soon as I closed the bedroom door behind us she sat on the bed and started rolling up more weed. Before long, thin wisps of smoke swirled into all kinds of shapes everywhere in the room. It felt more like we were hanging out in the clouds instead of a tiny apartment in Brooklyn. She smoked while I tossed back glass after glass of cognac. I used to drink so much of it back then that I hardly touch it now. I've since developed an intimate relationship with clear liquor instead. We didn't know each other well enough to share our troubles but we were with both there with our share of pain combined and in attendance. I politely kept to my side of the bed, full of liquor and she relaxed on her end, full of smoke. She offered me a pull and I passed my cup so she could take a sip. We slid closer together and for that moment, nothing else existed. Before long, all of the liquor had gone to my head and I needed to lie down. When I tried to, she grabbed me roughly by the front of my shirt.

"Now you know that I didn't come all the way over here to let you fall asleep on me did you?" she whispered in the voice that I had begun to love the more I heard it. We took everything off and prepared to let the entire world slip so far away from us that nothing else really mattered. There was no fear, no shame, no pain, no guilt and no past. I can't honestly say that I know how or when I got her naked. What I do remember is how she felt once I was inside her and out of all the women I've known, most of them would be hard-pressed to outdo her in that department. She was warm and wet enough that I felt everything, even with the condom on. That had to qualify as magic. Her long, smooth legs up in the air looked like they could touch the ceiling, at least from my perspective. Drunk and high out of our minds we rocked and swayed together, feeling more like we were floating than having sex. The sounds she made were high-pitched and shrill which annoyed me more than turned me on. It was a relief when she grabbed the pillow and screamed into it while I put everything in her every possible way. She had that familiar look of surprise on her face women sometimes gave me when they hadn't expected all that they got from me. I never knew if I should be flattered or insulted. To a degree it implied that they had come into my bedroom with low expectations. All the same, I preferred to be underestimated than fall short of expectations.

I lost track of time but I know that it was almost daylight when we finally stopped. The alcohol in my system along with the knowledge that she had slept with one of my friends kept me from reaching my sexual peak or in other words, I hadn't climaxed. She wanted to take a break but I could tell that she was upset that she hadn't quite satisfied me. I knew I couldn't sleep comfortably with her next to me but I wasn't ruthless enough to ask her to leave. I would have to be in school a few soon anyway so I decided that it wouldn't kill me to lay down with her for an hour or two.

Of course, I overslept and only blind luck opened my eyes. I had a help from the sliver of sunlight that managed to slip through the dusty blinds in my bedroom window. I rolled over to shield my face from it and forgot that Tia was there until I bumped into her. She stirred slightly but didn't wake up. The time on the cable box made me jump up to get ready to leave. I let her sleep for the moment. After I got out of the shower, I couldn't take my eyes off of her while I ironed my clothes. The bed sheet barely covered her. She was still topless but at some point that morning she must have put back on her panties. The way they were halfway off her hips would make it so easy slip them all the way down. I was already late for class so a few more minutes wasn't going to make much of a difference. I've never believed that women couldn't feel their lover's hands on them when they were supposed to be asleep. Their cooperation betrays them. Once you slip your fingers under the waistband of their underwear, they tend to ease their hips up off the mattress. When you slip your hands between their legs, they spread their thighs to accept your touch. Once you touch them in their most intimate places they make you wonder if they're wet from the dreams they were having or from the things you're doing to them. Eventually they let you know that they know what's happening when that first subtle sigh passes through their lips. That is how Tia found herself bent over the edge of my bed.

***Hope you enjoyed this sample. Please pardon any typos or errors. This is an unedited version.***

In the meantime, while you're waiting for "Glass Goddesses,Concrete Walls" to drop.....here are my other titles, all available on amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0063K6JJC

Friday, February 3, 2012

I Need

I Need
by Keith Kareem Williams

I need all of my ambition and every bit of determination to become everything they tried to say I wouldn't be. I need the drive to smash the theories on everything they believed I couldn't be. I need time to make things happen. I need people around me who understand me. I don't need childish, passive-aggressive temper tantrums thrown at me by adults fighting to get me to look in their direction. I need space when I WANT it and not when other people see fit to grant it to me. I need people with mischievous and idle hands far away from me. I need to put foolishness and folly in my rear-view with my foot firmly on the gas.

I need my children's path to be easier than mine has been. I need to recognize my own flaws so that I can always try to be the best father that I can be. I need to understand the mistakes I make so that I won't repeat them. I need more children when the time is right. I need all of them to grow to be more than I will ever be. I need a woman who knows how to be a lover to me but a mother to them. I need someone that I can trust to keep them safe if something were to happen to me.

I don't need motivation. The things I've seen in life made sure I have that in abundance. I do need inspiration. I need a deeper level of concentration to get this done. I need real people around me that make me better. I need people close to me who don't want anything but to see me do everything they believe in their hearts that I can. I need for lovers of literature and the world to realize that I really am good at this thing that I do. I even need a muse or two. Their temperament and moods are fickle but I can't deny that they make my mind work better. These stories have to be written, one way or another. I need 48 instead of this measly 24 hours in a day.

As a matter of fact, I need a vacation. Who's coming with me?

***Do me a favor and tell a friend to tell a friend about my books so that I can go on that vacation:
Books by Keith Kareem Williams: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0063K6JJC ***

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Never Invisible in the Eyes of God

Never Invisible in the Eyes of God

by Keith Kareem Williams
On "Hump Day" on this blog I feature other authors for what I've dubbed, "Writer Wednesday" in an effort to showcase their work. Today is officially the first day of Black History month so I thought it was only right that I feature two authors who have had a huge impact on the way I write.

Zora Neale Hurston

Growing up, I had always been into comic books, science-fiction and fantasy novels. I preferred superhero mythology and dragons to my real life. I lost myself in these genres to escape my own environment. I never read urban novels because I was already living it, trapped deeper in it than even some of the people who were writing it. THAT was my reality. Hurston's "Their Eyes Were Watching God" changed everything for me. I was introduced to her writing by one of my college professors and I was drawn into the reality of her fiction. Even the title intrigued me and if not for the impact it had on me, "Water Flows Under Doors" might have been titled differently. I've made a conscious effort to make sure that all of my titles have a deeper meaning as well. ("Open Spaces," "Sometimes Brooklyn, Mostly Mars," and the book I'm currently working on, "Glass Goddesses, Concrete Walls.") In her writing, she touched on subjects that were socially taboo and received backlash from her contemporaries. Because of the dialect she used in the book, Richard Wright called it a "minstrel show" and said it was a setback to serious black literature.
I thank Ms. Hurston for writing the way that she did because of the social commentary and the messages she shared with us. There was something down-to-earth and unapologetic about her work. It gave me the courage to write the way that I do. She gave me the courage to make "Water Flows Under Doors" a bold piece of fiction that paints a picture of the environment I was trapped in. She is definitely on my Top 5 List of writers I would have loved to co-author a book with….if she would have had me. If she was still here, I would have sent her my writing to see what she thought of it.

Ralph Ellison

Ellison's voice in his novel, "Invisible Man" was so powerful that I have to credit him for the way I sometimes sprinkle heavy metaphors throughout my own stories. Years after reading this, the imagery and symbolism he used still remains imbedded in my brain. It chronicled the plight of a black man trying to find his place in the world of his time. I can only hope to someday write a novel that will chronicle my own in this modern world. Things have changed but some of the struggles are the same. There are novels that see their 15 minutes of fame, embraced and glorified by pop culture momentarily, for whatever that's worth. The issues addressed in Ellison's novel are still relevant today.

Ellison and Hurston are polar opposites in some ways in terms of how they viewed African American literature in their time. Ellison said that "Their Eyes Were Watching God" contained a "blight of calculated burlesque." We face similar issues and opposing views in our own modern renaissance of black literature. There's constant debate about classifications such as Street Lit, Urban Lit, Urban Contemporary or whatever the catchy classification of the week is. I don't believe in it and I think it's unnecessary. Good literature is good literature, regardless of the writing style, language used or subject matter. People seem to have been using the classifications to divide and also to imply that certain styles contain inferior writing. Nothing could be more false. Every genre of writing has its good, bad and ugly. Every good author has their own unique voice as well as their own way to tell their stories. The world is made up of diverse individuals with different tastes. No one should tell a writer how to deliver their feelings, thoughts and ideas to THEIR readers.

***Find all of my own novels here: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0063K6JJC