Saturday, May 21, 2016


Hi Divas,

                 As you know once the summer comes out best authors gives us the greatest reads for vacations, and run in the sun. P. Dotson author of Pure Sins, Enough of the Drama (1-3) , My Best Friends Man and Twisted Obsessions has released another book. 

Below is a excerpt for you to read to purchase this book on May 21st on the Publishers Website


Mona closed her eyes and covered her ears. Her body trembled, but not from the winter air that whipped around her. Tears leaked from her eyes and rolled off her rosy cheeks. She tried to summon up her imagination to escape the dark place she was in but, no matter how hard she tried to think of picket fences and white roses, she couldn't drown out her screams.
"Please, Monica," Rochelle begged. She struggled to free her hand from the handcuffs clamped around her wrists. Blood leaked from her open bullet wounds. She could feel the life slowly leaving her body, but she was determined to hold on for her baby boy.

Her life wasn't supposed to end like this, not at a time when things were looking up for her. She'd just gotten a promotion on her job and Ricardo finally popped the question. He finally decided to commit to her, after years of bullshit. They were finally ready to be a family. Her life literally flashed before her eyes. This shit wasn't fair. More tears rolled off her cheeks as she thought about all the what if's she'd never get a chance to experience.
"Please what?" Monica barked with a nine millimeter aimed at Rochelle's head. Her green eyes sent chills down Rochelle's spine.

"Why?" Rochelle asked for the one hundredth time that night. She needed answers. She needed to know why her best friend wanted her dead.

Monica did her best to suck up her tears. Her hand shook, but she made sure to never waver from her target. The air was cold and thick with deadly tension. Rochelle looked up into the cold eyes of the person who she once thought was her friend. 
They were dead. 

"Answer me!" she yelled with all the energy she had left in her. "Please," she whispered, placing her head on the cold, hard ground. Her body shook violently from fear and deep chill from the winter air that reached her bones. She'd been stripped down to her bra and panties.

"Because, he chose you," Monica said with a smile on her face. Rochelle's head popped up. The hurt and anger that passed through her body caused her to shake even more. "He fucking chose you." She laughed out loud. "I did everything for him. Whatever he needed or whatever he wanted, I fuckin' did it, and he still chose you. That car he got you, I fuckin' paid for it. That new house you live in, I fuckin paid for it and he still chose you."
Mona stood motionless as her mother continued to scream at Rochelle. Her ten-year-old mind was in a whirlwind. She couldn't understand what her mother was screaming about, but she knew this was wrong. She liked Ms. Rochelle. She'd always been nice to her, which was more than she could say for her own mother.
"I hate you!" Monica screamed as she squeezed the trigger.
When the first gunshot rang out, Mona spun around on her heels and ran. Her heart beat at her chest, as she ran blindly through the dark. She fell and scraped her knee, but she got up and kept on running.
"Oh God!" she called out the almighty savior's name when she felt someone grip her shoulder from behind.
"Mona!" her mother yelled. She shook her a little before she spun her around to face her.
"Ma . . . ma . . . mama, what just happened?" Mona cried with tears rolling down her cheeks. Her teeth chattered so much; she bit her tongue.

"I had to do it Mona. I did it for us. I did it for love."
"But w . . . w . . . why?" Mona stammered, as she struggled to catch her breath. Her thoughts were running wild. She jumped when her mother dropped to her knees and grabbed her by the chin.
"Never let another bitch enjoy what's yours. Always eliminate the competition. In this world, sometimes, you have to get grimy to get what you want. Understand?"
Mona couldn't even find her words; she simply nodded her head.

I know this nigga didn't just up and leave without so much as a thank you. I swear, niggas so unfucking grateful. After all the shit I went through, just so I could spend some time with his ass. I snapped my head to the right and glance at the clock on the stand. It was a little past ten. Check-out time, if I recall, was at noon.
I smacked my dry lips and swung my long pretty legs over the side of the bed.
I hoped he was in this got damn bathroom. I rode with his ass and parked my car at Wal-Mart. 
"Jamal!" I yelled as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The sour taste in my mouth was making my stomach turn. I played in my weave and rolled my eyes towards the ceiling.
Silence was my response. I had a feeling that he was long gone by now, but I got up and checked the bathroom anyway. Damn, I must have been knocked out cold because this nigga had time to take a shower and everything.  I walked back into the room and glanced at the clock real quick. I had time to handle my own hygiene.

My pussy was still sticky from the sex session I had last night. I felt funny. If my cat ain't right, I ain't right, so I quickly handled my business. I still couldn't believe his ass left me.
When he messaged me, I should've kept it moving, since he'd been stingy with his time for the past couple of months. But he was persistent and, real talk, I kind of liked the attention. So, here I was, stuck at least forty-five minutes away from home with only fifteen dollars to my name. This was what happened when you did dumb shit behind good dick. 
But the man upstairs blessed him with a monster between his legs. My pussy jumped as I reminisced about his long deep strokes. It would be a minute before I sampled the goods again because the nigga claimed he so in love with his girlfriend, but he didn't love her. If his ass loved her as much as he claimed, he wouldn't be dipping and diving in my cat. But, I'd give him his space for now.  I dried myself off and put on the same clothes I had on the night before, minus the underwear.
I grabbed my cellphone and sent a thanks to the man upstairs that I still had bars left. I called my bestie, Jade. My face immediately turned into a frown because she ignored my call, so I called right back.
"Heyyyyy," she answered this time. She was breathing all hard in my ear. My lips turned up because I was annoyed.
"I need you to come get me," I blurted out, getting straight to the point.
"Where you at?"
I gave her my location, grabbed my stuff, and headed down to the lobby. While I waited, I sent Jamal a text.
Me: I enjoyed myself last night. You could've waited for a bitch though.
I slipped on my red bottoms and shook my head. This was a waste. The nigga didn't even offer me a bite to eat, a drink, or nothing. Just took me to the hotel, gave me two rounds of good dick, and bounced.
Ten minutes later, I walked up to my girl's all-black Camaro. Her expression was blank, but I knew she was not happy about me hitting her up on a dime but, like always, my girl came through.
"Thanks chick," I sang before I hopped my pretty ass in the passenger seat beside her. As soon as I got comfortable, her car shut off. I glanced at her sideways and shook my head. "Girl, when you gone get rid of this raggedy ass car?" I frowned. 
My bestie, Jade, has had this car since we graduated high school. That was almost eight years ago.  It's raggedy, no air conditioning, and the passenger side window doesn't work. She had been driving this car around faithfully for years. I didn't understand why she couldn't get a new one. She had a decent paying job working as a bank teller. She should be able to come up with something better than this. 
"You're welcome and don't worry about my shit. Why the hell am I picking you up on this side of town?" Jade snapped at me. 
"Ugh! Lose the tude, bitch. You know I go from zero to ten real quick, bitch. You always bragging on this new nigga you got, how much money he rolling in; make that nigga pay for some shit. Get you some wheels or something. You allow these niggas to downgrade you, Jade."
"Bitch please."
"I'm just saying. You give in to easily. Make these niggas pay for something."
"Coming from a bitch who just walked out of the Days Inn without a ride. Yeah, okay Mona," she said, smacking her lips.
"And what's wrong with the Days Inn?" 
"It ain't five-star bitch. Its barely a step up from a Motel Six boo, so please don't come for me when your continental breakfast consists of a muffin and orange juice."
I gave her my middle finger and didn't even bother with the back and forth. I could really hurt her feelings and go in about that crispy ass weave sitting on top of her head, but I didn't. I was tired and needed to figure out what I was going to tell my husband.

Happy Reading!!


No comments:

Post a Comment