Sunday, April 27, 2014

Prologue for "War Angel III: Catalina"

I would like to thank the folks who have purchased the previous "War Angel" novels as well as the spin-off novella, "Tourniquet." Sales have been great and I can feel the anticipation building for "War Angel III: Catalina," the explosive finale. Here's the prologue which sets table for where the story picks up after the events at the end of "War Angel II." Enjoy and as always, I welcome your feedback and comments.


by Keith Kareem Williams


“Today marks the sixteenth anniversary of a series of grisly murders that rocked this community in quiet, upstate New York. After over a decade of investigations, law enforcement officials have yet to piece together exactly what happened or who was behind these acts of violence which shook this otherwise peaceful community to its core…” said the news anchor on the old television set mounted on the wall behind the counter inside Bradshaw’s Bakery.
“I’m sorry about the mistake with the spelling earlier mister. It’s kind of an unusual name. We’re used to Becky’s and Mary’s and Jane’s,” apologized Brenda, the assistant manager on duty. She had the kind of rosy, plump cheeks that were always red and made it seem as if she was always blushing. She put the cake down gently on the counter with the box open so that he could see that they had corrected their mistake.
“Thanks. No worries, we all make mistakes,” he answered.
“Awesome. Now, do you need any candles? I mean, what’s a birthday cake without candles, right?” she asked as she closed the box and tied it up skillfully with red and white string.
“Actually, I do,” he answered.
“Awesome. How many do you need? We have all kinds,” she said, pointing to the display rack right next to the counter. It was filled with a wide assortment of candles in their little vacuum-formed plastic packages.
“Can I have sixteen of the pink and white ones?” he asked.
“Awww, that’s awesome. A sweet sixteen is a really big deal for a girl,” said Brenda as she put the candles on the counter and rang up his total on the cash register. “Here you go mister,” she said as she handed him the receipt with his total.
He paid, smiled politely and left the bakery with his cake and candles.
Brenda thought that there was something mysterious and intriguing about the quiet, dark-skinned man. He was very handsome and his smile was charming but it was the sadness in his dreamy, dark brown eyes that fascinated her. She couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten the scar that ran down the entire right side of his face, from just above his eyebrow all the way down to his cheek. If he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, she might have even flirted with him but dating married men was not her cup of tea.

Copyright © 2014 Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

1st Review Posted for Tourniquet

I would like to thank everyone who purchased my novella. I appreciate all of the great feedback I've been receiving about the story and its subject matter. Thanks for the emails, texts, Facebook inbox messages, Twitter direct messages, etc.. Don't forget to post those reviews for me so you can SHARE your feelings about the book with the rest of the world. The following is the 1st review that was posted on Amazon.

"A Story that needed to be told!", April 23, 2014
This review is from: Tourniquet (Paperback)
Keith "Reem" Williams has written a very touching and believable novella with his new release Tourniquet. Two of the main characters are familiar to Williams' fans of his War Angel series; as they played minor yet pivotal roles in the first book in the series. With that in mind I wasn't certain what to expect as I began reading Tourniquet. I was so touched by the subject matter and Williams' way of developing his characters and the context of the story around this difficult subject to make a compelling, fast paced, interesting, emotional, and well received message. A message that is universal to women everywhere, females around the globe of all ages can be fit into these pages and their voices can be heard, their pain felt, their desire for freedom from oppression and abuse palpable, and their victories celebrated...(I’m not condoning violence, only freedom from it.)
I was so moved I cried twice in 78 pages.
And there's more here... Williams crafts pain, loss, and suffering beside family ties that bind tightly and the deepest of loves. There are several stories being told at once and all connect to present realities in our world; children without fathers, daughters in danger, mothers sacrificing all for their children, real fathers are needed, real fathers are missed...
Williams' protagonists possess certain "strangeness", as he put it in his dedication. However, they are resilient and able to love beyond the superficial, which in the end helps them to survive.
A truly awesome story!

Sunday, April 20, 2014

The REAL You

The Real You

By Keith Kareem Williams
I don’t want to meet you after you’ve spent three hours putting on make-up. I don’t want to try to talk over the music in the VIP section of the club at the tail end of a night where I’ve had way too many drinks. I don’t care about the glamour or the glitz and I don’t want to kiss lipstick-covered lips. I’m not impressed by the expensive clutch or the designer shoes because I’m only interested in you…the REAL you.

I’ve spent a few dollars in my time on what most men would consider dimes but I’ll never love a woman who can be bought and paid for with cash. Anybody can spend money and that’s why I don’t respect, admire or desire affection with a price tag attached. Any heart or body can be bought is cheap and I’m only after things in life that are priceless.

That is why I want you…the REAL you. I’ll take you every day, early in the morning with your hair a mess, no makeup on and wearing nothing but my favorite T-shirt. You are everything they’re not, and that’s why I want you…the REAL you…the true version of yourself that you only want to give to me. Time may have passed but nothing has changed but the date on the calendar. When you love someone for real…that never goes away.

Friday, April 11, 2014

"Open Spaces" by Keith Kareem Williams, Chapter 1

Out of all the novels I've written, this one will always hold a special place in my heart. It was my 2nd book and on these pages is where I believe I found my literary voice. Here is the opening chapter. Enjoy and feel free to leave comments.

Open Spaces


“Happy birthday, dear Corey! Happy birthday to you,” sung the entire party, much too loudly and horribly out of key. Their voices boomed and resonated in the confinement of the tiny kitchen that had walls too thin to contain the dreadful chorus. Annoyed neighbors either cringed in disgust or turned their televisions up to drown out the sound.
“Now make a wish, baby,” Mika lovingly whispered in her son’s ear, as his father, Sedari, hoisted the boy onto the edge of the kitchen table.
Corey perched precariously on the edge of the table that was probably eighty-five percent compressed wood, only craftily disguised by the manufacturer to look authentic. Sedari had barely finished paying off the layaway plan at the local discount furniture store in time to have it for the party. They’d already gone almost a year and a half without one, and although it wasn’t the best quality, it was what he could afford for the time being.
Sedari steadied his son and directed him towards the red, white, and blue candle that burned brightly on top of the blue and canary yellow SpongeBob SquarePants birthday cake. Everyone remained completely silent as Corey thought about everything imaginable to wish for. For a boy his age, the possibilities, though basic enough, were nonetheless infinite. All in attendance held their breath as he inhaled deeply and prepared to make a wish by blowing out the candles. It was as if any sound or movement except for the tiny gust of air he mustered to blow would spoil the enchantment. After two laborious attempts, Corey blew out the candle and accidentally showered the top of the cake with a fine mist of spit. The genuinely joyous applause that followed sealed the spell and made the magic complete. Only the final element of the ritual remained; the slicing of the cake. Tammy, Corey’s chunkiest godmother, worked the kitchen knife with unrivaled precision without ever getting any frosting on her fingers.
Many of the party-goers and well-wishers were glad to grab their cake and escape the confinement of the kitchen; some because they were just plain greedy and others because of the anxiety that being packed in such a tight space caused. If Mika and Sedari’s kitchen had been a club, the fire marshal would have shut it down for certain. The only ones who didn’t seem to mind were the SpongeBob SquarePants party hat-wearing children who bounced their sugar-filled bodies carelessly and blissfully from room to room.
Through the crowd of guests, amidst the laughter and clamor of the celebration, Mika spotted her husband and stared into his face. A hulk of a man and standing about six-feet fiveinches tall, he was very difficult to miss as he towered above most of the guests. Mika smiled and touched her wedding band, while her grandaunt babbled in her ear about how much Corey had grown. The tips of Mika’s fingers also ran across the engagement ring she still wore on the same finger. It was not the flashiest and far from the most expensive, but bound within it was all the love Sedari possessed for her. Mika cherished the humble diamond set above the two circles of gold because it reminded her of the tears they both shed the night he proposed.
Sedari had apologized and cried, apologized and cried some more for not being able to give her what he felt she deserved. She remembered how she wiped his face as he wet her feet with tears. Mika remembered how she tried to comfort and reassure him. She thought back on how she tried to explain to him that countless women received priceless treasures from fianc├ęs whose words and promises were as worthless as they were dead and hollow. She remembered how Sedari had tried to fool her into believing he felt better about himself, but she could still see the shame on his face like a stain. Back then, it saddened her, but she knew her man well enough to know that he would do whatever he had to, make whatever sacrifices needed, to walk through life as her husband with pride.
As her grandaunt continued to ramble, Mika slipped back to the present and nodded her head in agreement without really paying attention. Thoughts of her husband, some more sexually explicit than others, swam gracefully through pools of passion in her mind. He was like a drug to her, and she found herself wanting and needing the high he gave her. As she studied his face, the tingling that tickled her body made it impossible for her to forget why she married Sedari.
Mika knew the trouble he’d gone through to make this party special. Ever since they’d been married and on their own, money had been tight with them. This was the first time he’d been able to do anything near what he wanted for their little boy. Just as she was about to turn away to actually pay attention to her grandaunt, Sedari ensnared his wife’s eyes with his own. The couple exchanged warm, lustful looks and then continued to entertain their guests, some of whom had begun to leave. The gifts had been opened, the kiddie games had been played, almost all of the food had been eaten, and now, the cake had finally been cut. The party was nearly over.
Sedari started thanking everyone for coming, while Mika hurried back and forth to the bedroom to gather the guests’ outerwear they had stored on their bed for lack of closet space. Sedari felt fortunate to have so many good friends at Corey’s party. Many of them he grew up with, but through various means, they had since left the dirty apartment buildings and noisy streets behind. Now they only remembered the hood like a bad dream. They would have never returned to this part of town if not for their love of Sedari and his family. He understood this and loved them for it.
There were also other friends present who were from totally different walks of life. The perceptions of their parents were still imprinted firmly on their psyche, and they learned to fear what they saw and read in the news. Still, they loved Sedari because they knew him, but that love didn’t carry over to the strangers outside that shared his surroundings. Sedari could see in the faces of some of his friends that, now that the party was over, they wanted nothing more than to get back to safer suburban streets. The hood was definitely not for them.
As the last of the guests put their jackets on and said their final goodbyes at the apartment door, the doorbell began to ring wildly. Sedari and Mika exchanged puzzled looks before he opened the door cautiously.
“Sorry I’m late,” Desiree slurred, as she rudely brushed past the last of the guests who tried to make their way politely out.
Unmistakably intoxicated, Desiree grabbed Sedari in a bear hug and kissed him on the cheek, close enough to his lips to put an instant frown on Mika’s face. The longer Desiree held onto Sedari and the deeper she dug her French-manicured nails into the back of his sweater, the more Mika’s frown transformed into an appalled scowl.
“Glad you could make it,” Mika said, hoping her voice would be enough to make Desiree take her arms from around her husband’s neck.
It didn’t. Instead, she held on tighter and mischievously glared at Mika.
This bitch! Mika thought to herself, as she tried to maintain her hostess demeanor and composure. Her pride wouldn’t allow her to let Desiree know how jealous and annoyed she really was, so she continued to project as pleasant a vibe as she could.
“I almost didn’t make it,” Desiree whispered, alcohol heavy on her breath as she took her hands off of a visibly uncomfortable Sedari. He looked like someone with a bomb ticking in his back pocket.
“Thanks for coming,” Sedari told her, taking a few steps back to put more distance between them.
Desiree smiled, unbuttoned her full-length brown leather jacket, and arrogantly handed it to Mika. Sedari tried not to gasp or let his jaw go slack when he saw what she was wearing underneath. Mika noticed this but still said nothing. Desiree’s outfit was too scandalous for even some nightclubs and definitely inappropriate, not to mention tasteless, for a fiveyear-old’s birthday party.
“What the fuck?” Antoni, Sedari’s older brother, mumbled to himself while walking over to greet Desiree.
Ant, as his friends affectionately called him, which was an abbreviation of his name that also doubled as a reference to his lack of height, couldn’t decide what to ogle first. Her tan blouse was cut so low that the thin material barely covered her nipples. Her long legs and silky thighs were barely covered by a black skirt no bigger than a handkerchief.
“What’s up, Dee?” Ant greeted Desiree from a distance.
“Ant? Come gimme a hug,” she told him, staggering into his arms.
He realized just how drunk she was when she kissed him full on the lips. Ant didn’t notice that she kept one eye fixed on Sedari as she did this, but Mika did.
“Damn, Desiree, I thought you stopped drinkin’?” Ant whispered in her ear while hugging her.
He held onto her for a while, more to keep her from falling over than out of affection. When he felt she was steady enough, he guided her to the sofa as she dragged a monstrous Toys “R” Us bag behind her. When she sat down, her knees knocked together awkwardly; this was the only thing that kept everyone in the room from knowing what color her panties were. Just as Desiree righted herself, Corey appeared out of his bedroom in a crisp pair of new pajamas he’d received as a birthday gift from one of Mika’s sisters. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and grinned when he saw Desiree and the size of the bag beside her.
“Hi, Dee! What you got for me?” Corey asked and jumped up in her lap.
Desiree stared at the boy with a deep, long-buried sadness in her eyes. Only Sedari noticed the look in her eyes and the change that came over her. She seemed to sober up momentarily.
“You know I wouldn’t forget my favorite man in the whole world,” Desiree told Corey and kissed him softly on the forehead. “Sorry it’s not wrapped up, baby. Last minute shopping, you know,” she explained and pressed her lips affectionately to his cheek.
Her breath reeked of liquor, and Corey turned up his nose when he caught a strong enough whiff of it to make his eyes burn.
“You stink, Dee,” Corey told her without malice, but rather with the unpredictable honesty that all children possess. As he climbed down from her lap, his sleepy, burning eyes focused on the bag that undoubtedly contained some gigantic toy.
“Well, excuse me, sir,” she comically begged his pardon. “Take your toy to your room. Tomorrow, make Daddy put it together for you, okay?”
“Okay, Dee,” Corey answered without a fuss, then dragged away the bag which was almost bigger than him.
“Here you go,” Mika grumbled, as she handed Desiree a steaming cup of instant coffee.
Desiree took it, half smiled, and set it on the glass center table in front of her. The loud clanking noise made Sedari cringe.
“Thanks, Tamika, but I’m good. I appreciate the thought, though,” Desiree told her and mimicked the fake smile that was plastered on Mika’s face.
“Sure, whatever,” Mika answered, then took the mug of coffee back to the kitchen. She was grateful all the guests were gone except for Antoni. She knew she couldn’t have managed to be a good hostess for long with Desiree in the same room. She wasn’t surprised that Desiree would show up to Corey’s party late, half-naked, and stinking drunk. Desiree was Desiree, and she always found new, innovative ways to solidify Mika’s dislike for her. In that, she never failed to outdo herself.
“Dee, I thought you gave up that shit?” Sedari asked, as he gathered scattered party litter to put in the trash.
“I said I gave up getting drunk which, I might add, I am far from now,” she answered slowly and deliberately, as if she had to think about each syllable in every word before she spoke. Her sentences flowed unnaturally and sounded forced.
“Sound drunk to me,” Mika added, while stuffing discarded giftwrap into a black garbage bag.
“Am not, my dear, but thank you so much for your concern. I feel so loved,” Desiree replied, her voice heavily saturated and seasoned with drunken hostility.
Mika barely looked up as she angrily tied off the trash. She stomped past Desiree on the couch and roughly handed the bulging bag to Sedari. She paused to roll her eyes at Desiree before returning to the kitchen to wash up the mountain of dishes in the sink. She clanged cups, banged down plates, and abused pots while the silent tension in the room increased exponentially. Sedari and Antoni exchanged uncomfortable glances as the quiet, subtle war between the two women continued.
Desiree was pleased by how angry she made Mika. She stretched her arms, yawned, and put her feet up on Mika’s cream leather couch with her shoes still on. This time when she raised her legs, everyone did get a good look at her pink lace panties. From the corner of her eye, she saw Mika angrily grip a wet, soapy glass and nearly break it. Desiree smirked.
“I can see the party’s over anyway, and I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome. Now, what I need is another drink and a ride home. Sedari, you got your car?” Desiree asked.
Whether by accident or on purpose, (no one in the apartment could say for sure), Mika broke a dinner plate on the kitchen floor. Sedari nearly jumped out of his skin.
“The liquor’s done and I got my car downstairs. Let’s go,” Ant interjected to prevent World War III in apartment B3. He didn’t particularly enjoy her company either, but he was willing to make the sacrifice to save Sedari the serious trouble that was sure to follow.
“I wasn’t askin’ you,” she started to say.
“No, but I’m offering. Let’s go,” Ant cut her off before she caused much more of a disturbance.
“Sure, fine, whatever. Doesn’t matter. Tamika, would you be a sweetheart and get my coat so this gentleman can give me a ride?” she asked.
“Fuckin’ bitch,” Mika thought, as she stopped picking up the broken pieces of the plate so she could fetch Desiree’s coat in a hurry. The sooner that woman was out of her place, the happier she would be.
Desiree kept her feet up on the couch until Mika appeared out of the bedroom and stiffly handed her coat to her. Although everything in the room seemed to be spinning, Desiree stood up steadily, snatched the coat, and quickly put it on.
“Good to see you, baby,” Desiree told Sedari, as she grabbed Ant by the hand and pulled him towards the apartment door.
Sedari smiled sadly, but didn’t answer her. Neither did he move from the spot where he stood rooted in place for the sake of his marriage.
“I’ll talk to you guys later,” Antoni said, while being pulled along like a stubborn puppy tethered to its own leash for the first time.
“Always nice to see you, too, Tamika,” Desiree said, as Mika showed them out and slammed the door behind them.
“I hate that fuckin’ girl! I really do!” Mika exclaimed, locking the door.
“Dee is Dee. Can’t let her get to you like that. You know she do that shit just to fuck with you,” Sedari replied, trying to comfort his wife by wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.
Mika smiled as she felt his breath on the back of her neck, then giggled when she felt his grip tighten. His lips explored the sensitive area behind her ears before sending chills down her spine as they tickled her collarbone. She still found herself fascinated by how he could be so powerfully overwhelming and gentle at the same time. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at her husband, just a little less upset than she had been only a few seconds before.
“You tired?” Sedari asked.
“No,” Mika lied.
She was very tired, of course. However, for what she knew her husband had in mind, she would drag the strength and energy from somewhere.
“Me neither,” Sedari whispered heavily in her ear.
“You think Corey’s sleepin’?” she asked, breathless, bothered, and wanting to be bothered some more.
“He better be sleepin’,” Sedari answered.
“Yeah, he better be,” she repeated after him.
Mika spun around in his arms and kissed him passionately before she took him forcefully by the hand to their bedroom.

Copyright © 2010 Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved.

"Tourniquet" by Keith Kareem Williams Sample Chapter

To all of the folks who are curious about my latest release, here is the entire 1st chapter of the novella. Enjoy and feel free to leave comments.

Round Peg,
Square Hole

avin pulled his father’s old revolver with the duct tape wrapped around the handle from underneath the futon’s run-down mattress. He had been sound asleep until the racket at his front door abruptly ripped him away from dreams he couldn’t remember now. He listened with the pistol in his hand as
the door shook weakly on its hinges as someone on the other side wrestled with the locks. He could feel his heart rattle erratically in his chest as he nervously prepared to send a hot slug straight through whoever was trying to break into his apartment. He’d never actually had to pull the trigger before so he could only pray that the gun even worked. He would find out soon enough as the door swung open.
“You really need to fix this damn lock,” Angela said as she finally forced the door open. “SHIT!” she screamed, ducking, holding her head and dropping her schoolbag when she saw Gavin’s gun aimed at her.
“What the…I nearly shot you! Why didn’t you knock?” Gavin yelled and quickly stashed the gun back in its hiding place.
 “Because I have a key, remember? You know, the one you gave me as a symbol of our love, along with permission to show up anytime I want?” she answered, gathering the books that had slipped out of her bag and lay scattered all over the apartment floor. Her heart was beating so fast that she could feel it pounding in her chest.
“Next time, knock first,” he told her, still shaken up over nearly blowing a hole in his girlfriend.
“Fix the damn lock!” she told him again as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “And I told you to get rid of that friggin’ thing! You see how you nearly shot me?”
“I’m sorry. Now fix your face. I hate when you pout like that,” he told her as he sat up to the chorus of crinkling papers.
All over the futon that served as his bed, loose sheets of lined paper torn from notebooks lay scattered about with his scribbled chapters all over them. It was a sure sign that he had a lot on his mind. More and more, writing down his thoughts had become his only form of therapy whenever the weight of his world threatened to break his back. Angela put her bag down in the corner and sighed as she looked around at the chaos. The apartment was as messy as she'd ever seen it. She never understood how he couldn't keep such a tiny place neat. It wasn't like he lived in a mansion. She put her hands on her curvy hips while she tried to decide if she should wash the pile of dirty dishes in the sink or tackle the tangle of papers first.
“What a mess,” she said, pulling her long, wild, curly, frizzy natural hair into a puffy ponytail as she prepared to clear up the loose paper situation first. She hated doing dishes anyway.
“Like the mess on your face?” Gavin asked, noticing the black and purple bruise on the side of her face once her hair was swept back. “If your stepfather…” he started to say.
Angela’s stepdad had a bad habit of using his hands to talk whenever he felt that words weren’t enough to get his point across. Her mom didn’t know because Angela refused to tell her but she had told Gavin about the times she had been backhanded.
“Oh this?” she asked, pointing to the spot on her cheek that had caught his attention. “Yeah, it wasn’t him this time. I just made a new best friend in school today is all,” Angela answered sarcastically.
She had been having such a horrible week at school that she really didn't want to revisit her most recent ugly incident. She tried to avoid going into details as she started to gather the scattered pages before Gavin stopped her.
“Don’t worry about that. What happened to your face?” he asked.
She pretended to ignore him until he gripped her by the arm firmly to get her attention.
“I got jumped by Kiki Weston and her debutante goon-ettes,” Angela answered as Gavin pulled her to sit down next to him.
“Why’d they jump you? For what?” he asked, touching the discolored blotch on her face with his finger.
She winced in pain as he poked at the tender spot.
“Well, I was minding my own business after gym class, getting dressed in the locker room and I overheard Kiki tellin’ her little bitch squad that I was a lesbian,” she started to explain.
“And then?” he asked, pressing for more details.
He knew his girlfriend well enough to know that there was a whole lot more to the story.
“And then, I walked over to Kiki, grabbed her left tit and squeezed her ass. She’s got a nice one too by the way. It’s much softer than it looks in her three hundred-dollar jeans. Anyway, she gets all upset and starts swinging, and then I fought back, and then I start winning, and then I got jumped,” she continued nonchalantly.
“Looks like you caught the worst of it,” he joked.
“Oh no sweetie. I took down her whole punk-ass crew. This only looks bad because I’m so pale. You should have seen what they looked like when I was done with ‘em. If Mrs. Schwartz hadn’t stopped it, I think I would have put at least one of ‘em in the hospital,” she said with a satisfied smile and a gleam in her eyes.
“I can’t believe I’m in love with a damn goon. You fight too much. You know that that’s very un-ladylike right?” he laughed.
“Whatever. You love it though,” she giggled playfully. “With the amount of times I’ve had to fight my scumbag step-daddy, I better be or I’d be in trouble. AND, I wouldn’t fight if people didn’t pick on me. All I wanna do is paint and mind my own business. Anyhow, my goon-ish behavior got me suspended from school for a week.”
“Your mom is gonna scream your ear off when she finds out you were in another fight,” Gavin warned.
“No, she won’t because she’ll never find out. The cable and the house phone is off because her awesome husband hasn’t paid the bill. I’m surprised that bum hasn’t let the lights get cut off yet. Lazy ass, video-game-all-day-playin’-ass, grown-ass, can’t-keep-a-job, derelict-ass, piece-of-shit. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m lookin’ forward to the days off…speaking of which, why haven’t you shown up to class for two days mister?” she asked as she punched him in the chest playfully.
“Eh, I just didn’t feel like goin’. I caught a nice flow with this story I’ve been working on so I stayed home to work on it,” he explained, picking up one of the loose pages to show her.
She pushed it away.
“Are you trying to get yourself in trouble? You’re gonna keep cuttin’ class until they send a social worker over here. What do you think is gonna happen when they find out that your dad isn’t around and that you’re here all on your own?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m almost old enough to be on my own legally anyway,” he answered.
“Keyword: ALMOST! I don’t know why you just don’t call your mom to let her know what’s going on,” she asked.
“Why would I do that? The last time we heard from her was when she called to rub it in my dad’s face that she was pregnant with twin girls for her new man. That was almost four years ago. Naw, I’m good. I’ll manage on my own,” he answered.
The hurt and disgust on his face made Angela feel guilty. The pain in his voice hurt her as well and she was sorry that she had mentioned his mother. She already knew how Gavin felt about her and cursed herself for speaking without thinking. The slightest mention of the woman who had given birth to him and then eventually abandoned him brought about nothing but grief. She knew it was possible that she might have triggered a dangerous bout of depression for the man she loved. Sometimes his melancholy moods lasted for days at a time and at their worst, for weeks. At that moment, she wished that she could have crawled under a rock and died for being so thoughtless. To make things worse, she knew that he was deeply missing his father who had died just the month before from a heart attack. His dad had raised him as a single parent since he was a small boy and had been the only parent he had ever really known. In a way, she even envied him because her own father had been killed when she was just a child so she didn’t know what it was like to have a real dad growing up. Her abusive stepfather certainly didn’t count and neither did the sick bastard her mother had been with before him. The closest thing she could equate to Gavin’s loss was what the living nightmare her life would surely be without her mom.
“I miss your dad too. He was always kind to me,” she told him, knowing his soul and exactly what was causing it to ache. He was the one human being that she felt totally in tune with. “I wish your dad could’ve met my mom instead of my stepfather.”
“I don’t,” he answered with a smirk.
“Your dad was a good guy that deserved a good lady so why not? Something wrong with my mom?” she asked.
“Nothing at all. Your mom’s pretty hot too but if our parents had hooked up that would have made us brother and sister and we couldn’t do this!” Gavin answered, grabbing Angela by the waist.
Before she could say a word, he had pulled her on top of him.
“Ouch, not so rough,” she told him as he started to aggressively strip off her clothes.

Her body still ached in certain places from where she’d taken a beating from Team Weston. Once her bra was off, she put her breast in his eager mouth. She made a mental note to remind him to get a shave as his scruffy beard tickled her skin. His fingers wrestled with the drawstring on her tight grey sweatpants. Once he had them loose and pulled down to her ankles, his hands found their way to her plump rear which he proceeded to squeeze. He loved how juicy she was. Her butt was so big that no matter what size panties she wore, they always seemed a size too small. She loved the way his hands felt on her body. Angela quickly slipped out of her underwear while he stepped out of his jeans.

Copyright © 2012 Keith Kareem Williams
All rights reserved

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Love and Freedom

Love and Freedom
by Keith Kareem Williams

I suppose that over time, I’ve been responsible for causing pain to a few, even if I never meant to. I'm sorry if I've ever made anyone reading this cry. I’ve never been afraid to love because I’ve never been afraid to walk away when I had to. No matter what scientists and physicians say, hearts are way more complex and complicated than brains.

I will never claim or entertain falling in love with a woman whose heartstrings are still attached to the man she loved before me. I can provide distraction but won’t invest more than what makes sense. I understand that we all need breaks from the things that make our hearts ache but to fall in love in that situation would be a mistake. Some love you as a way to temporarily escape their heart-breaking situations. You can choose to be the distraction as long as you understand that those are only temporary relations.

Loyalty and love walk hand in hand. That’s a simple concept that all adults should understand. If you don’t have my full attention, I won’t pretend that you do. Instead of getting upset that things aren’t the way you might want them to be, maybe just respect my honesty and a situation that seems to have a bleak future might just flourish. Loyalty is earned and never just a given.

It’s an unnatural notion to believe that you can give anyone their freedom when being free is a natural state of existence. Love doesn’t seek to control through selfishness, greed or games. A person who loves you remains by your side because they choose to. Love is such a powerful emotion because it does not compromise or explain itself, ever. It either is or it isn’t. It causes pain but doesn’t apologize. It also makes life worth living and it doesn’t apologize for that either.

Live, laugh, smile, enjoy life, avoid stress and doomed situations.