Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The Truth About Goodbyes by Keith Kareem Williams

The Truth About Goodbyes
By Keith Kareem Williams

This is probably the first time I’ve sat down to write about this. After so many years on this earth and the questions I’ve been asked lately, I suppose that now is as good a time as any to explain something that I’ve avoided explaining.

I’ve never feared a woman telling me that she loved me. I’m not a man who measures love by gifts. Sometimes I think that gift-giving often serves as a smokescreen to mask true intentions, not always necessarily malicious intentions but, they do often precede little white lies. In fact, I’m not a big fan of receiving them at all. Depending on how much thought is put into them, I don’t mind them IF we’re in a relationship. I understand a person’s need to show that they were thinking of you. I’ve never become nervous by the intensity of a woman’s passion, from soft love-making to intense fucking. I think I’ve done it all and experienced the entire spectrum.

What I have always been afraid of is a woman that loves me way more intensely than I love her. I’ve never. That never ends well, for either of us. Maybe I’ve gone about it the wrong way but, I’ve tried to protect women that I’ve cared deeply for, in my own way. Recently, someone from my past asked me a question that really made me sit down and think about this. You know it’s serious when I have to sit down and write about it. She pressured me to explain the nature of my goodbye and I couldn’t find the right words to explain why I had walked away the way I did. Eh, I always do better when I write things down. I promised her that I would and although she wasn’t pleased, she agreed to read my reasons instead. (At least she understood that sometimes my thoughts get muddled and confused somewhere in-between my voice and my head.) Once upon a time, I walked away from her without a fight, fuss, or an explanation. It’s been bothering her since then. I was just afraid to hurt her because the way she started to feel for me, at the pace she started to feel it, I wasn’t going to be able to keep up. She loved me so much that it would only be a matter of time before she saw in my eyes that it wasn’t the same. Not that it was NEVER going to happen but it would take me more time. Most people aren’t that patient. So I left it alone so that she could find someone that would love her back in the same way, right away. I’m not sure if she found that. I hope that she does.

Sometimes, not a smile, what she says to you, what she buys for you, not her kiss and not even sex tells you how a woman feels about you. All those things can be faked because most of us have had a lot of practice. Sometimes, all the truth is in the way she rests her head on your shoulder. I guess I’m strange because it’s the subtle things that most people ignore that I cherish more. How else am I going to see the truth clearly?

War Angel by Keith Kareem Williams

War Angel
by Keith Kareem Williams

What would you do to hold on to the life you love? How far would you go to finally hold that which you covet the most but has always eluded you? Are the lines between right & wrong as clearly defined as we would like to believe or are they more blurred than we would ever admit?

Either blind hope or the fear of losing what they hold dear can drive men to terrible, deadly extremes. Hector's selfish desires & Lenox's biggest fear makes them both pawns in a dangerous game that puts them on the same path of blood & violence. In the middle of lies, betrayal & cold-blooded deceit, Jahaira's life hangs precariously in the balance.

There will be pain, there will be suffering & there will be punishment but, will there be redemption?

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Debts - An Extended Excerpt from "War Angel"

I would like to take a moment to thank all of the people that have been showing huge support for the book. I've been signing copies for two days straight. It makes all the hard work and sleepless nights worth it. I also decided to share another sample below. Enjoy.

Excerpt taken from
"War Angel"
CHAPTER 26-Debts

The air inside the warehouse was musty, dusty and stale, as if nothing much had stirred there for a very long time. The only sign that said otherwise were the fresh footprints in the grey soot on the ground along with the drag marks that accompanied them. Slowly Lenox moved forward, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. Unsure of what waited for him, he didn’t dare turn on the overhead lights. The feeling that he was being watched made him draw his knife. Carmen hadn’t given him a gun because all he was supposed to do was kidnap a dog. In the dark, dead, silence of the abandoned warehouse, he wished that he had one. The shadows seemed menacing and alive, creeping at his back, clawing at him. A flock of pigeons that must have found their way in through some broken window startled him as they flew past his face in a frenzy of feathers. That unexpected distraction was why he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him. However, he did feel the business end of the twelve gauge shotgun pressed against his back.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Hector asked.
“Where’s the woman?” Lenox growled back.
“What woman?” Hector asked.
“Mrs. Wright…CJ Wright’s wife. You tied up the rest of the family and left them for me to find but you took the woman. Where is she?” Lenox yelled.
“None of your fucking business. Now get the fuck out and go home before I blow a hole in you,” Hector warned him.
Lenox turned around slowly, put his hand on the end of Hector’s shotgun and turned it away.
“You won’t shoot me. You can’t shoot me, even if you want to. Carmen’s not done with me…at least not yet. Now, where’s the woman?”
For a few moments, Hector didn’t answer, at war with himself and insanely tempted to blast Lenox’s head right off of his shoulders. He could shoot him, dump the body somewhere and give Carmen any excuse out of millions that he could come up with but, he knew that she wouldn’t believe any of his stories. She was too skilled of a liar herself to be fooled.
“You sure you want to see her?” Hector asked, shouldering the shotgun.
“Yes,” Lenox answered, unsettled by the satisfied smile on Hector’s face.
“Follow me,” said Hector.
Lenox began to regret not bringing a gun with him more and more by the second as he walked behind Hector in the dark warehouse. He felt claustrophobic despite the high ceilings. The dust-covered, crumbling boxes stacked high on the shelves on either side of them seemed as if they could collapse and bury them at any time. Up on the second tier, spider web-covered machinery leered down on them like malformed tin men, broken, abandoned and long forgotten. Hector stopped at the back of the warehouse where the building seemed to end.
“She’s in there,” he said, pointing to a grey door in front of them.
Lenox remembered the last time he was led to a back room and how unpleasantly things had ended. All the same, he had come too far to turn back. The memory of a little boy who mistook him for a superhero and a little girl who asked if he was an angel gave him the courage to keep going. He turned the doorknob and stepped inside. He was not prepared for what he would find.
Regular, white candles on the floor lit the room. The shadows on the wall shook as the draft from the open door blew kisses to the flames at the end of their wicks. An old wooden desk sat in the middle of the room, still covered with yellowed papers that must have held importance once. Tall, grey file cabinets whose drawers were filled with forgotten documents sat like sentries on opposite walls. In every corner of the room were cobwebs that had been long abandoned by the spiders that had spun them but still held the carcasses of dead bugs. Lenox walked deeper into the room and on the other side of the desk, he found who he was looking for although she appeared to be only a shell of the vibrant woman he had seen in the family pictures on the walls at the Wright’s house. She was gagged, and tied up with duct tape, the same way that Lenox had discovered the rest of her family except she was unconscious on the ground, curled up in a fetal position on top of an old, piss-stained mattress. Next to her on the bare ground were syringes and judging by the needle marks in her arm, Lenox could guess what Hector had been up to.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why? Why would you do something like this?” Lenox asked, disgusted.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Maybe I'm Crazy?

I'm not scared of many things but I'm not totally fearless. I'm afraid of letting life just happen. I'm not a leaf on the wind and I wasn't put here to let a weak breeze blow me in any direction. The choices I make control my fate. When you believe in yourself, you have to stand firmly on your square, plant your roots and make things happen...even if you seem crazy to those on the outside looking in. You're supposed to. When you dedicate yourself and sacrifice what others couldn't imagine giving up, you're on the way to going where no one else has ever gone. I never check the rear view or the lanes next to me. I'm too busy keeping my eyes on what's ahead and trying not to crash.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

No Offseason

No Offseason
By Keith Kareem Williams

When you are an independent author trying to establish yourself, there is no time to waste in terms of creative output and production, especially when your books are your sole source of income. There is absolutely no time to sit back and rest on your laurels. Your readers have a ravenous appetite, especially when you’re writing good books. The only way to satisfy them and remain relevant to them is to keep the material coming.
I spoke briefly about feeling lost after I typed the last sentence of “War Angel” and finally finished with it. I shook that feeling off the very next day. That is the only way I manage to survive. By the time the buzz dies down with one novel, I need to have the next one lined up and almost ready to go. Until that time comes, when I’m a household name, there will be no offseason for me. (These bills need to be paid!)

On your way to reaching any goal, you have to fall in love with the journey and more passion for the climb than you have for the success. That way, you never fall off because you’re always looking to elevate yourself higher. You can’t lose your inspiration on the road before you even get where you’re going. That’s why, as soon as I put the finishing touches on “War Angel,” I got busy penning my next novel. Sleepless nights and inspiring mornings, here I come! I wouldn’t have it any other way though. 

Order an autographed copy for a chance to win a free "War Angel" T-shirt!

Monday, June 17, 2013

War Angel Dissected

It is an amazing feeling when you look back and see what you started with...a series of thoughts and images in your head...translated into paragraphs and chapters of ideas written down in notebooks...until eventually, you have yourself a beautifully bound paperback! Good morning loyal readers and friends. I want to share the chapter headings for "War Angel" today...just in case you're curious.

"War Angel" Dissected

CHAPTER 0-Blood Smeared
CHAPTER 1-What Eyes Don't See...
CHAPTER 2-...Hearts Don't Grieve
CHAPTER 3-Mall of Mannequinns
CHAPTER 4-Grandma's House 
CHAPTER 5-Warm Bodies on Cold Nights
CHAPTER 6-Lips Pressed to Sunrise
CHAPTER 7-Butterfly Effect
CHAPTER 8-Flowers for the Dead & Dying
CHAPTER 9-Secrets
CHAPTER 10-Troubles
CHAPTER 11-Answers?
CHAPTER 12-Innocence Lost
CHAPTER 13-Broken Armor
CHAPTER 14-The Deep Breath
CHAPTER 15 minus 15-And Here We Are Again
CHAPTER 16-Aftermath
CHAPTER 17-Chess, Not Checkers
CHAPTER 18-Balancing Scales
CHAPTER 19-The Cost of Secrets
CHAPTER 20-Holding On 
CHAPTER 21-Warnings
CHAPTER 22-Party Favors
CHAPTER 23-Pillow Talk 
CHAPTER 24-Mothers and Daughters
CHAPTER 25-Flesh
CHAPTER 27-Little White Pill
CHAPTER 28-A Missing Night 
CHAPTER 29-Exposure 
CHAPTER 30-Open Throats
CHAPTER 31-Trapped
CHAPTER 32-Taken 
CHAPTER 33-Endgame

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Hopelessly Lost

Hopelessly Lost
by Keith Kareem Williams

It seemed like it was meant to be but I can’t save you and you can’t save me. In perpetual motion, like leaves caught in the wind, we spin, and spin out of control. Neither one of us is whole. In fact, we’re full of holes. Life has shot us too many times to count and all of our ink combined can’t cover all of the bullet wounds. It’s best that you find somebody stable and love him as much as you’re able. I know that wasn’t in the plans but give him as much as you can. I’m sorry that you gave so much to me that it will maybe feel like you’ll never be free.

As for me, I’ll just love the ones I’m with and pretend that their lips are your lips. Their pretty faces may change, but nothing for me will change. It will always be you that I think of. You’ve lost me and I’ve lost you. Sometimes the best we can do is love from a distance, secretly and emphatically, even if our story turns out to be one of the great tragedies.

I hope you enjoyed the post. I neglected the blog while I concentrated on finishing up "War Angel." (See the Paypal link posted below for autographed paperbacks.)Now that it's done, I'll be adding more new content. For those who haven't left and still stop by to see what's new, thanks for sticking around. I appreciate you. 

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

War Angel - Pillow Talk

Excerpt from "War Angel" 
by Keith Kareem Williams

I've decided to share one of the steamier scenes today. (I really love this book) This one was taken from CHAPTER 23 - Pillow Talk. It takes place after wild events that took place in the previous chapter. Sorry, I can't tell you too much without giving away the story. Enjoy and as always, feel free to leave comments or share the link if you like it.

“I don’t see why. I don’t love you any less. If anything, I’m even closer to you now more than ever,” he answered.
“I don’t feel like that. I feel like there’s this open space between us that keeps getting wider and wider. What happens when we can’t close that space?” she asked.
“That will never happen.”
“How can you say that when that’s exactly what’s happening now? I know you and I know that you’re hiding something from me!” she insisted with conviction.
Lenox didn’t answer with words. Instead, he held her face and kissed her. She was still angry so at first she resisted but slowly surrendered. She closed her eyes as the sensation of his rough hands against her soft cheeks soothed her. After the long kiss, he put his lips to her closed eyelids, first one and then the other. He tasted the tears that had started to build up behind them. He kissed her cheek, following the path of the first that had fallen. He felt her body relax as he undid the buttons on her pajama top and then fondled her naked breasts. She let out a deep sigh as one of his hands wandered down her side, then her hip and eventually slipped into her panties to the wetness between her legs. Instinctively she opened her thighs to allow him to explore her with his fingers. He felt her pulse as he slipped two of them inside her most feminine place, aside from her heart. Her sighs became moans as he continued to touch her exactly the way she liked it. He knew his woman’s body better than anyone else. Excited and impatient, she reached down and grabbed him between his legs. As she felt the bulge in his boxer-briefs grow, it made her wetter. Slowly, she massaged his front. She felt him get harder and harder until her body starved for more than just his fingers. She shoved her hand into his underwear and wrapped her hands around the shaft of his throbbing, masculine flesh. She began to stroke and squeeze with just the right amount of pressure to make his blood pump faster. She knew his body just as well as he knew hers.
“I love you,” he mumbled with her breast in his mouth.
She answered by pushing him down on his back and burying her face in his lap. He put his hand on top of her head as she kissed and licked his inner thigh. She teased him and took his swollen penis in her hands. She smiled with her eyes closed and held it to the side of her face. She looked up at him and he looked down at her. Against her cheek she could feel him throbbing and was she was aroused by the lust in his eyes. That wasn’t surprising because, after all, he was a man with hot blood coursing through his veins. She became sad for a moment because she couldn’t find the look in his eyes that told the story of his heart that he claimed still loved her as fiercely as he always had.
He bit his bottom lips as she began to kiss his manhood, first at the base and then up the length of it to the tip where moisture had started to glisten. After another tender peck from her lips, she used her tongue to taste him. He slightly thrust his hips to suggest and almost beg that she do what they both knew she was down there to do. Instead, she stuck out her tongue and backed away with a thin thread of glistening saliva still connecting her tongue to his tip. It broke and dripped from her lips to her chin. She smiled but didn’t wipe it off. She knew what he liked. The look on his face pleaded for her to keep going. She closed her eyes and took him into her wet, willing mouth. At first, the inside of her mouth was cold and the sensation was amazing for him. She began to work up and down, taking him a little deeper every time. He watched her mouth stretch and open wide as she wrapped her lips around him. The vibration of her moans as she pleased him drove him crazy. She moved faster when she used her hands but slowed down when she wanted to take him deeper so she wouldn’t choke.
Lenox grabbed a handful of her hair as she brought him closer to the brink of an explosive climax. He stopped her just in time. He held her chin gently so he could bring her face close to his to kiss her. Then he laid her down on her back. He ran his tongue slowly across her tummy. He knew that she was self-conscious about her stomach because she didn’t have the rock-hard abdominals of the gym-obsessed types but he loved how soft hers was. She put her hands on his head, loving the way he used his mouth tickle her in random places. The stubble from his beard tickled her skin as he worked his way below her navel. Once he reached her inner thighs, goose-bumps covered her skin. What he did with his mouth and the places he planted his kisses were part of their regular, erotic routine but somehow it felt different to her this time. His grip on her thighs was firmer and there was more purpose in the passion of his lips. Her heart raced and she wasn’t ashamed to grind her vagina against his face, her body possessed by the pleasure she felt. She breathed heavily and bit her bottom lip as he wet his fingers with her juices. The sight of him tasting his fingers afterwards sent a sensual shiver through her body. Then he buried his face between her legs again and she covered her mouth to muffle her screams. She became light-headed and if she didn’t know better, she would have thought that she might float off the mattress. She grabbed her own breasts and squeezed her nipples. His tongue was strong enough to put the perfect amount of pressure in just the right places to drive her insane with pleasure. She writhed under the intensity of everything he made her feel. He could feel her body tremble and tasted how much she liked it as she exploded like a broken dam. She giggled because she knew that she was the reason why his lips and chin were soaking wet.
“I love you,” he told her again.
Before Jahaira could answer, both of his arms were behind both of her knees and her legs had been raised high in the air. She had even less leverage than before and he devoured her more passionately. Her eyes rolled back and she felt high. He used his tongue, lips and kisses to express how much he loved her. Before she realized it, her legs were shaking and pushed back so far that her ankles were close to her ears. She grabbed his ears and opened her mouth wide to scream but no sound came out as she felt another orgasm coming. Her body constricted and went stiff, just as she was about to flow like a waterfall. Lenox stopped suddenly and stood up. She wanted to kill him until he grabbed both of her legs and dragged her to the edge of the bed. Before the feeling of her interrupted orgasm had a chance to pass, he buried his manhood deep inside her. He scraped all of her walls and hit the bottom of her womanhood. While inside her, he intended to stroke every ounce of doubt about his love out of her. There were ways to say I love you without words and some of the best ways didn’t require any. He was determined to fill any and every open space that she believed had developed between them. Her climax drenched him and he seemed to swell even more inside her when he felt it. Finally, she creamed his name, over and over. He slowed his rhythm to make love to her gently as she came. When her walls stopped contracting, he began to go harder again. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down so that he would be closer to her. His face was buried in her breasts. Her walls gripped him like a vice as he climaxed. She felt as if she had taken a part of his soul when he did. He felt the same way and he wanted her to keep it. He had lost so much of himself against his will recently that it was much safer with her. Exhausted, he collapsed on the bed beside her.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately. None of it is your fault. You’ve been going through enough without my issues adding to it. I never meant to hurt you. I never want to hurt you,” he told her.
“You’re like a tattoo. I don’t mind the pain that comes with having you permanently a part of me,” she answered.
Jahaira lovingly wrapped her arms and legs around him. Lenox loathed himself for trusting her with everything in the world but the truth.


Monday, June 10, 2013

POST WAR ANGEL: In Retrospect

POST WAR ANGEL: In Retrospect
By Keith Kareem Williams

Now that I have finally typed THE END, I realize that I’ve written about some very nasty people who do some pretty terrible things. I’ve also written about some decent people who end up doing terrible things as well. Throughout the book, I want people reading the story to be conflicted about what’s right and what’s wrong as well as who deserves what becomes of them. (I can’t wait to hear who the readers hate and who they love.) I’m always surprised by the mixed reactions. It tells me that I’ve created characters that feel real enough for people to have conflicting emotions about them. I suggest that none of my readers get too comfortable with seeing any character on the pages of this one. No one is safe. There are more deaths in “War Angel” than in all of my other books combined. I hope that everyone enjoys the ride.

“War Angel” was a story that came to me in a dream, from beginning to end. Then I completely forgot it by mistake. Fortunately for me, it all came back to me one afternoon in the shower. (Rain helps me to think clearly as well.) I enjoy the success when I’m finished but I’m in love with the process of writing my books. I admit that I feel a little lost now that I have finally written the last chapter after being so invested in its creation for months…years if you count when I first leaked excerpts on the internet. There is one person that I have to thank for pushing me to deliver new chapters which kept me up until sunrise on many occasions. I had a hard time keeping up with her ravenous appetite for what happened next in the story. I suppose we can both take a deep breath now that it’s done.