Good Morning! This Saturday, September 21st, Cinco’s Mexican Restaurant at Perimeter Mall in Atlanta is hosting my book signing for my latest novel, a steamy romance tale of love, betrayal and triumph. The festivities began at 1 pm thru 6 pm. Complimentary light refreshments will be available, and there will be a drawing for giveaways. It’s also an opportunity to meet my amazing editor of this real-life racy romance novel! So come on out next Saturday, meet some new friends, and have a little fun!
Note: Copies of the novel will be available to purchase at the cool, smooth price of $11!
Hi Everyone! Starting Today thru Labor Day, the paperback version of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story will be available on Amazon for a special promotional price of $10.99! So Hurry and Take Advantage of this Special Offer by clicking on the button above.
Nine o’clock the following evening, the lights in the radio station flickered on and off as the evening shift came to an end. Everyone packed their belongings and made a mad dash to the elevator. Growling loud like a baby lion with water leaking from the corners of her bleary eyes, Isabelle was sleepy. Lincoln took note of her peculiar yawning, making a face. “Damn! What kinda noise was that?” he teased.
“I’m exhausted,” Isabelle dryly replied, unamused by his comment.
“Maybe I should go home with you and perk you up,” he kept teasing.
Isabelle lazily chuckled. “Buddy, not this time.”
The elevator stopped, and everyone except Lincoln and Isabelle piled inside. He waved them on. “We’ll wait for the next one.”
Pat looked at them sideways. “Don’t get into trouble, you two,” she smirked as the elevator doors slammed in her face. Lincoln and Isabelle looked at each other and laughed. He pointed to the exit.
“Let’s take the stairs,” he suggested.
“Good idea,” Isabelle agreed. They ran down six flights of stairs. Their footsteps echoed against the paved surface as they raced to the ground floor. Lincoln opened a gray steel door, and they stumbled into a bright empty room with walls made of concrete slabs. Lincoln let the door slam, and it clapped like a bolt of thunder.
“Damn!” Lincoln cursed as he fiddled with the locked door handle.
Isabelle’s heart pounded in her chest, scared. “We’re stuck, aren’t we?” she dared to ask, biting her bottom lip.
“I’m afraid so,” he mumbled as he hurled his muscular frame against the steel door.
“What are we going to do?”
He stopped for a moment and searched the room. He looked up and pointed at a corner near the ceiling. “There’s a camera up there.”
Isabelle’s eyes followed the direction of his long finger. “Oh, I see it. Someone will rescue us soon!” she excitedly said repeatedly hopping on one foot. Isabelle was hoping for a miracle. Her blouse, soaked with sweat, clung to her body like a cold, wet bathing suit. Sweat beaded on her forehead and blood rushed into her cheeks. Burning up because there was no air conditioning, Isabelle swooned, getting dizzy. She felt like roadkill, and Lincoln took notice.
“Are you all right?”
“I think so,” Isabelle whispered steadying herself. She wiped her face on her blouse sleeve and burst out in anger, “Get me out of here right now!”
“Whoa…calm down,” Lincoln said with his eyebrows touching. “Don’t get so hyped up. Everything will work out.”
Livid he was so calm, Isabelle glared at him and snarled, “You think you’re so damn cool, don’t you?”
“What’s with the attitude?” he scowled. “We’re both in the same boat. There’s no need to get your panties in a knot.”
Isabelle folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. He reached for her, and she jerked away. “Hugging won’t help,” she hissed.
He made another attempt, and she recoiled. “Stay away from me,” she pouted.
Lincoln curled his lips and demanded, “Woman, come here.”
He came at her, and this time he was successful.
“Leave me alone!” Isabelle half-heartedly pleaded as she tried to wiggle out of his strong embrace. His hot, sweaty body melted into hers and she surrendered. His warm lips grazed her forehead, and her heart fluttered when he kissed the tip of her nose. His velvety lips brushed against hers, and she clasped her hands on each side of his smooth dark face. Isabelle took him in, and his lips tasted like mint candy. Lincoln’s sizzling kiss was open-mouthed, sweet, hot, dry, and then wet. His breathing quickened, and he licked her neck with delicate kisses, so faint they felt like little whispers.
She broke away, spoiling the romantic mood. “Don’t you dare give me a hickey!”
“I wasn’t trying to,” he grinned.
Isabelle knew he was lying. “Yeah, you were. I felt those little bites.”
He lurched forward reaching for her again. “Let’s finish what we started.”
Isabelle backed away. “No way. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Come on, just another little kiss,” he seductively begged her. He grabbed her hand. A bolt of electricity shot up her inner arm when his hand wrapped around hers. A tiny pulsating twinge stirred in her fiery loins as he pulled her to him.
Suddenly the lock clicked, and the door flew opened. A security guard, medium in stature, stood in the doorway with a hilarious baffled look on his face, his chestnut eyes crinkled at the corners
Isabelle shouted with glee, “We’ve been rescued!” as she broke from Lincoln’s strong embrace.
“Great,” Lincoln mumbled sounding less enthused.
The security guard snickered. “How did you two get down here?”
“The elevator took too long, so we decided to take the stairs and ended up here,” Lincoln explained. “How did you know we were here?”
“I saw you two kissing on the camera,” the guard snickered again.
“An eye full, I bet,” Lincoln joked.
“Borderline X-rated,” the security guard joked back.
Isabelle felt her face getting warm. “Not funny!” Embarrassed, she stepped to the door. “How do we get out of here? I want to go home.”
“You’re in the basement. The lobby is on the first floor,” the guard said.
“Can we go?” Isabelle groaned.
“Sure.” The security guard stepped aside, and Isabelle ran past him. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. Lincoln followed her, and they both booked it up the stairs. “Remember the lobby is on the first floor,” the guard hollered after them.
Isabelle slapped Lincoln hard on the shoulder once they were in the lobby. He grabbed his shoulder and moaned. “Ouch, woman, what’s your problem?”
“Every time I hang with you, I get into trouble,” she complained. “I’m not going to hang out with you anymore.”
His face lit up, and he fell into a donkey-like braying laugh. His massive arms encircled Isabelle’s waist, and he pulled her to him. “You don’t mean it,” he growled.
“Yes, I do!”
He nuzzled his head deep in the soft spot of her neck. His warm breath tickled her, causing her to erupt into hysterical high-pitched laughter. Isabelle wiggled from side to side. “Stop it!” she whined with sheer euphoria mixed with agony. He flipped her around and planted a warm kiss on her lips. Isabelle broke free and pushed him away. “I have to go. I can’t hang with you all night. It’s getting late.”
“I know,” he softly said as he edged closer to her. Isabelle turned away and took off strutting outside into the balmy night air. She stepped briskly to her car, but her quick steps were no match to his long panther-like stride. He threw his arm over her shoulders and yanked her close. Her eyes drifted up, and she gazed into his mocha eyes. His warm lips covered hers, taking her by surprise. The warmth of his hard, hungry kiss spread throughout her entire body, and it felt like she was floating on air. It was magic the way his lips connected with hers.
Then it was over. Just like that. He rested his forehead against hers.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he whispered as he pecked her on the tip of her nose.
“Hmmm,” Isabelle moaned. They held hands strolling to the car with no words passing between them, savoring their special moment and falling deeper in love. On cloud nine, she decided to hold off ending their affair. She was caught up in the moment and she wasn’t ready to let go. Isabelle unlocked the car, and he opened the door. She slid into the driver’s seat, and he leaned in kissing her on the cheek. “See you tomorrow, handsome!” Isabelle softly crooned.
His eyes sparkled and his lips curved up into a smile. “Likewise, beautiful. Be careful driving home.” He slammed the door and backed away. Isabelle turned on the ignition and waved as she backed out, viewing him through the rearview mirror as he walked to his car.
By eleven thirty, she was home, two hours past her bedtime. She slid out of her clothes, dropping them on the floor. Too tired to shower, she fell into bed. Eight minutes later, Isabelle was fast asleep.
Early the next morning, Isabelle struggled out of bed. With only four hours of sleep, she was exhausted. She staggered to the shower and turned on the water. The warm water in her face woke her up. Revitalized, she finished her shower and dried herself off. After she dressed, made up her face, and ate a quick breakfast, she was out the door.
It was seventy-five degrees, unseasonally cooler for an August morning in Atlanta. Once she arrived at work, Isabelle stopped by the mail room to retrieve her messages. After she settled in her office, she made herself a pot of Starbucks coffee. Soon, the coffee’s citrus aroma consumed her office and she poured herself a cup. While enjoying her morning brew, the telephone screeched loud in its cradle. Startled, she almost dropped her cup as she answered the phone.
“Good morning, this is Isabelle,” she said in a cheery voice.
“I see you made it in,” Lincoln said.
Isabelle’s face brightened. “Yes, I did. You’re working tonight, aren’t you?” she coolly asked, trying to temper her enthusiasm.
“I plan to,” he replied.
“Good,” she said.
“So, will I see you later?”
“Bye.” He hung up, and Isabelle slurped down her coffee. Barely tasting its nutty flavor, the hot liquid burned the tip of her tongue and her entire palate stung. She waved her hand in front of her face, taking short breaths to cool off her mouth. Again, the telephone screeched in the cradle, scaring her. She answered on the second ring.
It was Jinx. “Are you coming by this morning?” she inquired in a loud voice.
“Yeah girl, I got something funny to tell you,” Isabelle informed her.
“Hurry up and get down here,” she cursed, hanging up. The phone slamming in the cradle rang loud in her ear. She grabbed her coffee and hustled to Jinx’s office. Five minutes later, Isabelle pounded on the door.
“Come in!” Jinx hollered. Isabelle plowed through the door and sat. She crossed her legs, sipping on her coffee, quiet. Jinx’s eyes were birdlike as she examined Isabelle’s face. “You’re up to something. What happen?”
Isabelle set her coffee on the end table and burst into a belly laugh. “Nothing bad.”
“Tell me,” Jinx inquired as her hazel-green eyes flickered with excitement.
“Last night, Lincoln and I got locked in the basement at the radio station. At first, we couldn’t get out, then…”
Jinx reared back in her chair, and curse words fell from her lips. “Shit, girl, what the fuck did you say?”
Isabelle lost control as she burst into wild laughter.
“Stop laughing,” Jinx scolded her, looking cross. “How did you two get locked in a basement?”
“We decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator, and we ended up locked down there.”
Jinx stared at her with intrigue. “How in the hell did you two get out?”
“The security guard saw us kissing on the video camera, and he let us out.”
It took a moment to sink in, and when it did, a toothy grin crossed Jinx’s face. Then she howled with uncontrollable laughter, doubling over and holding her stomach. Isabelle cackled hard. Their tummies ached from all the laughter. Finally, they manage to stop as they struggled to catch their breath.
Jinx, still red in the face, spoke first. “Girl, you and Lincoln are fucking crazy.”
“We didn’t plan it,” Isabelle snickered. “It just happened.”
“Who in the hell gets locked in a basement?” Jinx said violently shaking her head.
Isabelle pleaded with her. “Don’t tell anybody please, not even Kandy.”
“I won’t,” Jinx chuckled, bucking her eyes. “So embarrassing. Who gets locked in a basement? Crazy!”
“Shit happens,” Isabelle shot back.
Jinx rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. I suppose you plan to see him again this evening with your crazy self.”
“I sure do,” Isabelle said as she sprung to her feet and dashed to the door.
Jinx followed her and stood in the doorway. “Isabelle, keep your little ass out of the damn basement!” she yelled after her as Isabelle hurried down the hall. Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this chapter click on the link below and purchase your copy of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story. Don’t Miss Out! Until next time.
Isabelle gazed in the mirror, touching up her red lipstick. She rolled her lips, smoothing out the bright color. She looked pretty in her white lacey floor-length dress with the heart-shaped bodice cut low above the breast. The gold cross dangling around her neck was a gift from her Dad. On the dresser, in front of her, laid a pair of simulated pearl earrings with a matching necklace. Isabelle picked it up and placed it over her cross. After she hooked the jewelry in place, she slipped on her pearl earrings. Then Isabelle stepped away from the mirror to admire herself. On each side of her smooth coffee-latte face was a dangling black curl, and the rest of her hair was swept up into a loose curly bun.
Preoccupied, Isabelle stared into the mirror with sad, mahogany eyes. She was supposed to be happy because today was her wedding day. For the first time in her life, she felt unsure about her decision. She was always confident with her decisions, never second-guessing herself. However, her biggest fear she might be marrying the wrong man, and that bothered her to no end. From the moment she saw Rosette, Isabelle instantly knew he wasn’t the one. However, she liked him. He seemed to fit the bill. He was tall, handsome, a Christian and a gentleman, and he was college-educated with a great sense of humor. He had all the attributes of a life-long partner, but Isabelle felt something was missing.
Isabelle drew in a deep breath as those thoughts weighed heavily on her mind. She entertained canceling the wedding, after all, she and Rosette only dated for ten months. Maybe, just maybe they needed more time. If they had time, perhaps she could figure out what was missing in their relationship. Isabelle flinched from the hard knock on the door and she hollered. “Come in!”
The door swung open, and Claude Dickson, her father, walked in. He was looking handsome and dapper in his doubled breasted gray silk suit, and his smile lit up the entire room like the morning sun. Claude was six-foot-tall with a vibrant chocolate complexion, and his graying afro was cut low to his head. His dark brown eyes rested on Isabelle, and he beamed with joy. “My number one daughter, don’t you look beautiful this afternoon!”
“Thank you, Dad,” Isabelle said. Her father fondly called her his number one daughter because she was the oldest of four.
“Are you ready to take that trip down the aisle?”
“I think so,” Isabelle sighed, shrugging her shoulders.
“Ah…what’s wrong? You’re supposed to be happy on your wedding day.” Claude came over and stood in front of her, placing his large warm hands on her shoulders.
“Dad, I feel weird,” Isabelle said, poking out her bottom lip. “I care for Rosette, but something is missing. I’m wondering if I’m making the right choice.”
Claude looked his daughter square in her eyes and said. “You don’t have to do this. You can put this marriage on hold.”
Isabelle folded her arms and frowned.“ I know Dad, but I’ve two hundred and fifty guests out there waiting to see us get married! I can’t cancel now. It’s too late!”
“It’s never too late. It would be best if you didn’t worry about that. Your guest will get over it. After all, it’s your life,” Claude flatly said as he let go of his daughter. He went to the sofa in front of the stain-glass window and sat. Claude drew up his right leg and rested it on his left knee. Quiet and somber, he intently studied his daughter’s face as he stroked his graying mustache.
Isabelle flattened her hand against her stomach, frowning slightly, concerned. Her eyes zeroed in on her father’s. “I thought you like Rosette! You said he’s a good man.”
“He is, but he’s not right for you, and I think you already know that,” Claude’s forehead furrowed. “If you don’t feel it’s right, don’t marry.”
Isabelle’s eyes went round with surprise. Swallowing hard, she absorbed the seriousness of her father’s words. She marveled at how well her father knew her. He was right. She shouldn’t marry Rosette, but she didn’t want to disappoint him or their guest. So to save face, she came at her father from another angle. “Dad, I’ll be all right. It’s just cold feet,” she calmly insisted.
Claude gave her a stern, all-knowing look. “Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
“Dad….” Isabelle whined.
“Dad nothing!” Her father cut her off, unwilling to agree with her. “It’s your life! You got to live with your choices, not me, not Rosette, not those people out there! You do!”
Isabelle hung her head. She hated when her father chastised her. “You’re right. I guess I have a decision to make.”
“You certainly do.”
Isabelle dragged herself to the sofa and sat. She rested her head on her father’s shoulder and closed her eyes. They sat in silence for a while then the wedding march song faintly echoed through the door. “So what’s your verdict?” Claude asked, breaking the solitude.
Isabelle opened her eyes and raised her head. She looked at her father. “I guess I’m getting married,” she said.
Claude stood on his feet and smiled. He extended his hand, and Isabelle grabbed it. She got up and followed her Dad to the door. When he opened it, the wedding march boomed overhead through the loudspeakers. Isabelle walked out first, then her father next. As he closed the door, Claude turned toward his daughter, and his lips erupted into a bright smile. “Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’m going to be,” Isabelle smiled back.
“Then let’s get you married!”
Isabelle held her head high as they walked to the sanctuary. When the usher opened the wooden doubled doors, everyone rushed to their feet. Rosette Perkins stood at the altar smiling broadly. He looked dashing in his white tux as he stood anxiously waiting for the ceremony to start. With all eyes peeled on her, Isabelle smiled. Then she slipped her left arm inside her father’s bent elbow, and together they entered the sanctuary and walked down the aisle.
Thank you for reading. If you want to know if Isabelle stay married, purchase your copy of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story on Amazon.com Now by Clicking On Link Below! I promised you it will be an entertaining read!
Update: One evening while working at TLC Radio Station, Isabelle is surprised when Jinx shows up.
Sometime later, Jinx and Jo Summers walked in. Isabelle’s mouth dropped open and she gasped. Jinx is here! Hell-bent on meeting Lincoln! Damn! Isabelle watched with amusement while Jinx pretended to be interested in Jo’s orientation. After Jo finished her introductions and left the room, Jinx snuck over to Isabelle’s cubicle.
“Where’s the man?” she whispered, bucking her eyes.
“He’s sitting in the back,” Isabelle whispered back.
Jinx craned her neck to see over the cubicle. A small squeal escaped from her lips when her eyes fell on Lincoln. “Damn, that’s one fine ass motherfucker!”
Isabelle patted her chest. Her heart was flipping somersaults. She withered down in her padded seat, wishing she could disappear. “Jinx! He might hear you!”
“Girl, he’s on the phone! He doesn’t hear or see me!” she said, still checking him out. She pulled up a chair and sat. “Are you sure you don’t want…”
Isabelle cut her off. “Hell no! Now stop it!” she fumed.
“Okay, okay,” Jinx said, batting her eyes. “But if you decide to get some at a later date, I sure as hell don’t blame you!”
Isabelle shook her head in sheer exasperation. “Girl, you are a trip,” she groaned with angst in her voice.
Jinx scooted her chair into the aisle. She stretched her neck to get a better view of Lincoln with her eyes popping out of her head. “Here he comes! He’s a tall ass mother…”
“Shush!” Isabelle scowled. “Don’t you say anything crazy! You hear?”
Isabelle knew her words fell on deaf ears, so she braced herself. Jinx, grinning like a naughty little girl, kept gawking at Lincoln as he glided toward her. “I mean it!” Isabelle hissed again, fully aware she was wasting her time.
“Well, hello handsome!” Jinx said batting her short eyelashes as Lincoln stopped in front of her.
His mocha brown eyes crinkled at the corners, and his shoulders started to bounce. “Lincoln Davis,” he said extending his large manicured hand.
Jinx held his hand. “Are you looking for Isabelle?” she asked in her sweetest voice.
“What is your name ma’am?” he said, ignoring her question.
“Oh, I’m Jinx Collins,” she cheerfully replied as she caressed and patted his large, smooth hand. “So nice and warm. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Isabelle almost threw up.
“Warm hands make a warm heart,” Lincoln teased with nervous laughter.
“I’ll say,” Jinx said, winking at Isabelle as she gingerly dropped Lincoln’s hand. She scooted her chair out of the aisle so Lincoln could step into Isabelle’s cubicle.
Isabelle gouged the bottom half of her face with her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut. Lincoln noticed her discomfort. “Are you all right over there?”
“I’m fine,” Isabelle said, opening her eyes. He shot her a knowing grin, and she returned the favor with a weak smile.
“Jinx, do you plan to take the job?” he asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” she crooned in a low throaty voice. Her hazel green eyes roved up and down his physique, checking out every detail.
Seething inside, Isabelle fought the urge to slap the mess out of her. “Jinx and I work together at Emory Hospital. She needed a part-time job, so I told her to apply,” she hurriedly explained.
“Nothing wrong with a little extra money,” Jinx chimed in, still eyeballing him.
“I heard that,” he said looking amused. “We’re all in the same boat these days.”
Jinx bristled up. “Honey, speak for yourself. I’m rowing my own damn boat, thank you very much!”
His eyebrows went up, perplexed by her outburst. “Interesting,” he said.
Jo intervened just in time, and Isabelle was grateful. “Miss Collins, come with me. I need you to watch a video before you leave for the evening.”
“Sure,” Jinx said, pulling erect. She stood almost as tall as Lincoln, looking him squarely in the eye as she flashed him a naughty grin. “See you around, handsome, you hear?”
His face brightened as if he was embarrassed. “Likewise,” he smiled.
She sauntered off, leaving Isabelle to explain away her flirtatious behavior, however she didn’t have to. Lincoln had another agenda. To find out Lincoln’s agenda for Isabelle, be sure to purchase your copy of Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story on Amazon by clicking on the link below! Thank You For Reading.
Weeks before her first date with Lincoln Davis, Jinx Collins, Isabelle’s best friend and work colleague Kandy Crane, met in Jinx’s office one morning for one of their many chats. Not only was Isabelle surprised to learn about Jinx’s past descretions, but she was equally stunned by Kandy’s revelation about Lincoln. Jinx Collins, ared boned, slender woman with hazel-green eyes and auburn red hair styled into a short pixie stood six feet tall. She walked with a swanky strut, cursed like a sailor, and she loved teasing and playing devil’s advocate. The setting in this excerpt occurred at Atlanta’s Emory University Hospital where all three women worked as clincial social workers. Enjoy.
Two days later, Isabelle and Jinx were having their usual morning chat when Kandy Crane barged into Jinx’s office. She had been off work for several days visiting her married boyfriend in Miami. Petite and skinny, Kandy had short, thinning blond hair. Although she was African-American, her complexion was light, almost pale.
Isabelle couldn’t stand her. She tolerated her. Kandy thought herself better than others, and this irritated both Jinx and Isabelle. She was snooty and self-absorbed, a woman with no emotional boundaries, always telling her business to anyone who would listen. Isabelle made sure she kept her distance.
Kandy stood in the middle of the floor in her white lab coat, her pockets crammed with notes and pens. She monopolized the conversation, chatting away like an old hen. Isabelle sat back in her chair with her legs crossed, bored to death.
“I had the best time with Darryl this weekend,” she beamed, shifting from one foot to the next.
Jinx rolled her lips inward as she struggled to keep a straight face. “Well, tell us about it,” she encouraged with sarcasm in her voice.
“We stayed at the Sheraton Hotel on the beach and sunbathed all day,” Kandy boasted. “The food we ate was delicious, and we even talked about getting married!”
Isabelle raised an eyebrow and Jinx bucked her eyes, turning ornery. “And his wife? Where was she?” she asked in a salty tone.
Kandy frowned, shrugging her shoulders. “Who cares?”
“How was he able to pull this off?”
“It’s not my concern,” she haughtily said, pointing her nose in the air.
Jinx bucked her eyes again. “Well, if she finds out you were sleeping with her husband and whips your little ass…I bet you’ll care.”
Isabelle burst into laughter. Thrilled Jinx jack her up.
With a clenched jaw, Kandy hissed. “You two get on my nerves!”
“Get a grip! I’m speaking truth to you, girl!” Jinx said.
Kandy snapped her mouth shut and glared at Jinx. A hush fell over the room. For five long minutes, no one spoke a word. Angry as hell, Kandy mustered up some courage and spewed venom Jinx’s way. “You used to date a married man! You got nerve!”
Isabelle whipped her head back, stunned with Kandy’s revelation. Jinx with a married man? No, not Jinx! Isabelle kept her mouth shut and cast her eyes on her lap.
Jinx, looking wolfish, stood up. “Girl, you don’t know who you’re messing with,” she snarled.
Terrified, Kandy made a beeline to the door. She stood in the doorway with her mouth gaped open, hyperventilating.
Jinx pretended to lunge at her. “You got something to say? Say it!”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! I don’t want to fight!” she squealed in a soprano voice, jumping back.
Isabelle howled with laughter, and Jinx joined in.
“Not funny,” Kandy whined after she realized Jinx was joking.
“Girl, you are in a relationship going nowhere!” Jinx chuckled as she returned to her seat.
“Not so,” Kandy insisted, still determined to think otherwise. “He loves me, and I love him. It will all work out. You’ll see.”
Isabelle snickered out loud again, and Kandy flashed her a dirty look. Jinx continued with her tongue lashing, refusing to let up. “He may love you, dear heart, but he’s never going to leave his precious wife. They never do.”
“I second that,” Isabelle piped in.
Kandy was defiant. “The man loves me! Aren’t you two listening to me?”
“Yes, we are, but it’s hard to process so much stupid at once,” Isabelle said.
“Smart Ass,” Kandy sneered with her nostrils flaring.
“It takes one to know one,” Isabelle snarled back.
Jinx rolled her eyes heavenward and sighed. “Okay, ladies, let’s calm down.” She gave Kandy a wary look. “I hope it works out for you, girl.”
“It will! You’ll see,” Kandy insisted.
Jinx changed the subject, breaking out in song. “Isabelle has an admirer! Isabelle has an admirer!” she sang with melodious glee. Isabelle flipped her the middle finger, and Jinx ignored it. She kept up the teasing and blood rushed into Isabelle’s cheeks.
Furious and embarrassed, Isabelle hissed at her like a snake. “Jinx! Stop it!”
“What happened?” Kandy asked.
“Not a damn thing!” Isabelle huffed.
“Tell her,” Jinx demanded. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Tell me what?”
Isabelle slid down in her seat and folded her arms on her chest. Jinx loved kicking up controversy, even when there wasn’t one.
“Hurry up! Tell me!” Kandy said as she grabbed a chair and sat.
Isabelle pursed her lips and hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I met a man at the radio station two days ago. His name is Lincoln Davis.”
Kandy’s face lit up. “So, you took the job?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did he tell you his wife is expecting a baby?”
Isabelle was inwardly surprised. “No, he didn’t. He left that major detail out. When is the baby due?”
“When I see him this evening, I’ll congratulate him,” Isabelle said. She was pissed. How dare he try to get in her panties, and he’s an expectant father! Damn! She couldn’t wait to get to the radio station to give him a piece of her mind.
“He’s a ladies’ man,” Kandy further explained. “Don’t let him get too close. He likes pretty women like you.”
Isabelle gave Kandy a funny look. “A compliment from you? Now that’s a first!”
Kandy smiled wide, revealing big chunky teeth. “I don’t mind giving you props!”
Jinx threw in her two cents. “So, what are you going to do girl? The man is coming after you.”
“No, he’s not!”
“Yes, he is!” Jinx said. Then her expression turned naughty. “I want to see this man. Maybe I’ll go to the radio station this week and fill out an application.”
Isabelle rolled her eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Let me get this straight. You’re going to apply for a job so you can check out Lincoln?”
Jinx grinned. “Yep! I got to see this fine ass chocolate man.”
Isabelle shook her head in amazement. “Unbelievable!”
She elected not to tell them about her latest encounter with Lincoln. She wasn’t in the mood for Jinx’s teasing. Kandy continued to chatter away about anything and everything under the sun until a loud knock on the door interrupted the conversation.
The door flew opened and in walked Lisa Cooper, the social work supervisor. She was a tall, attractive blond, with a Farah Fawcett haircut. Her work ethic was meticulous, and Lisa expected others to follow her lead. Now she was on the warpath looking for fault in anybody she could find. With her piercing baby blues, she sized up everyone in the room.
“Are you ladies working or goofing off?” she sweetly asked in a baby voice.
Isabelle bolted from her seat so fast she almost lost her balance and fell. She regained her footing and smoothed out her dress. She hustled to the door. “I have to see patients,” she declared.
“Me too,” said Kandy, jumping to her feet and following Isabelle. They both ran out before Lisa had a chance to address them, leaving Jinx alone to deal with her wrath. “That was cold,” said Kandy, laughing her head off.
“She can handle it,” Isabelle giggled.
They hurried through the hall, splitting in different directions, Kandy going for the elevator and Isabelle to the stairs. “See you later,” Isabelle hollered as she exited through the stairwell. She ran up seven flights of stairs and stopped on the seventh floor.
Red in the face, Isabelle grunted, taking deep breaths. She rested on the couch in the waiting room. Breathing normally again, Isabelle hurled herself up and hustled to the oncology unit. While there, Lincoln’s baby news crossed her mind.
A wife? A baby? So very disappointing! Despite, her disappointment, the baby was a welcome gift. In her mind, Lincoln had no business asking her out, no business at all. Fatherhood would keep him busy. The perfect plan. Until Next Time. Thank you For Reading. Purchase Your Copy of this steamy Entertaining Novel by clicking on the link below.
A week before Isabelle’s romantic date with Lincoln, she witnesses a debate between co-workers on her teleworking part-time job at TLC Radio Station one evening. Impressed by his candor after being confronted by a male co-worker, Isabelle views him differently and eventually agrees to a date.
One Thursday evening, Isabelle, ten minutes late, noticed the work area was scarce of workers. Except for two women gabbing on the phone in the next aisle, the place was virtually empty. Where is everybody? Did something happen? Puzzled, she locked her handbag in the desk drawer and booked it to the break room.
Upon her arrival, Isabelle heard loud, angry voices exploding from behind the door. With her hand poised on the doorknob, she eased the door opened and looked inside. Pat, with her face puﬀed up like a jellyfish, was embroiled in a heated debate with Cashmere Jones. She stood over him with her hands on her hips.
Droplets of water sprayed from her lips as she shouted in his face. He slid his chair back, wiping his face with his coat sleeve, his copper-brown eyes bulging out of his head. “Woman, stop spitting on me!”
She scowled. “I didn’t spit on you!” She shoved her chair backward with her feet.
Anita Hill and Clarence Thomas were the topic of discussion and everyone in the room had gathered into a big circle. The chaotic scene looked like a boxing match between two heavy-weight fighters. Isabelle panned the room and found Lincoln sitting near the refrigerator, stroking his well-groomed mustache. He appeared introspective, deep in thought as his mocha eyes studied Cashmere.
Isabelle tiptoed in and closed the door. She settled in a chair on the back wall.
Pat, looking wolfish, kept hurling insult after insult at Cashmere. Although his name was Cashmere, there was nothing soft or luxurious about him. The dark bags under his eyes made him looked sleepy, rough, and much older than his stated age of thirty-eight. His outfit, a wrinkled black suit three sizes too big, matched the wide brim hat hanging off the side of his head. Tightly thick beaded black hair grew around his ears and temples. He looked like an old, sleazy drunk on skid road. He was three gallons of crazy in a two-gallon bucket, and his pig-headed viewpoints rubbed women the wrong way.
“Cashmere! Don’t get me to arguing and cussing with you!” Pat screamed in his face with her false teeth clicking like a softly ticking clock. “Anita Hill is not lying! The man put pubic hair in her coke for goodness sake!”
“Yeah, he also referred to his nasty ding-a-ling as his long dong silver,” hissed an angry woman with a red afro.
Isabelle cringed as she imagine pubic hair floating in a glass of coke. She scooted her chair closer to the door, ready to book at any minute.
“She’s a temptress,” Cashmere charged with his thick lips curling. “She seduced him, and when he got some, he dumped her little ass. She got mad and came up with this cockled knuckled bull!”
Every woman in the room hissed and gnashed their teeth, popping out of their seats like jack-in-the-boxes. Spewing gross expletives out of sore mouths, they accused Cashmere of being a male chauvinist pig. Cashmere withered in his seat like a frightened little boy who just got spanked. He looked to the men around the room to bail him out, but no one volunteer.
Agony clouded his features, and he wailed in desperation, “Hey guys, help a brother out!”
With a stone face, Lincoln stood to his feet and threw up his hands. He went for the exit. “Bruh, you are on your own.”
“Man, you know I’m right!” he yelled at Lincoln.
Lincoln stopped in mid-stride and turned to face him, his eyes steely and vacant of warmth. “No, you’re not!” he said raising his heavy voice. “Clarence Thomas puts us men to shame! He’s an asshole!”
Pat screamed from her corner of the room. “That’s what I’m talking about, a man with some damn sense!”
Shouts of approval erupted around the room. Defeated and embarrassed, Cashmere scowled as he sank further in his seat. He pouted and threw his arms on his chest.
Isabelle’s mouth gaped open. Lincoln’s response took her by surprise. His opinion, different from most men on the subject, was refreshing to her. Her view of him changed that very moment. He was strong. A true rebel. A man not afraid to stand up for his beliefs.
Impressed, Isabelle gave him the thumbs up as he glided past her out the door. She slid out of her seat and followed him. He hadn’t gotten very far. He always took his sweet time walking with his easy swagger.
“Lincoln!” she called out trying to keep her voice low.
He stopped and turned around and grinned when he saw her. “What’s going on?”
Isabelle strolled up to him. “You were great in there!” She smiled broadly.
“Cashmere doesn’t know what he’s talking about half of the time,” he said.
“Well, he has a closed mind. I can see why the women don’t like him,” she giggled.
Lincoln laughed. “Baby Girl, he’s nothing but a punk in a cheap suit!”
Isabelle fell out giggling even harder. She loved his sense of humor. As they walked together, he slyly asked, “Care to get a drink this Saturday evening?”
Tickled, she fell out into a belly laugh. She couldn’t help herself. Lincoln was still trying to seduce her, only this time it was working. The corners of his lips turned up into a boyish grin. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, please,” she groaned. “You know what you’re doing.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “Isabelle, it’s just a drink between friends.”
For a moment, she mulled over his words. She knew he was manipulative, but now she didn’t care. He was her hero. He was the man. “All right, what time and where?”
His face dropped, stunned.
“What’s the matter?” Isabelle innocently asked.
“Are you serious about meeting me for a drink?” he incredulously asked.
“Absolutely,” she chuckled. “Why not? We’re friends, right?”
“Mmmm…” he said with his mocha eyes grazing up and down her body as if he would like to eat her up.
“Stop it,” she giggled tilting her head back.
“Looking at me like…”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Like what?”
“All sexy like!”
“I can’t look at you?” he asked raising his eyebrows as he invaded her personal space. She could smell the sweet scent of his lavender cologne, and her head swam. The heat radiating from his body made her quiver with goosebumps. She knew he was going to kiss her if she didn’t move out of his reach. So, she placed her hand on his chest and gently pushed him back. “Stop it,” she said in a syrupy voice.
“Mmmmm…okay,” he grinned, still checking her out. “So, this date we’re going on, you and me, let’s meet at Paschal’s on MLK Way.”
“What time?” she asked fluttering her long black eyelashes.
“Eight-thirty,” he flatly said.
“Eight-thirty it is,” she said in a honeyed voice.
“Good,” he said, looking pleased. He started to walk away, and Isabelle stopped him, placing her hands on her hips. Her eyes widen in an exaggerated fashion.
“Be on time,” she warned. “If you are one minute late, I mean one minute, don’t bother coming. This girl waits for nobody.”
He cracked up laughing. “Don’t you worry, Baby Girl, I’ll be there. You can count on it.”
In this week’s excerpt from Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story, heroine, Isabelle Perkins had her first date with Lincoln Davis at La Carousel Lounge, a jazz club owned by Robert and James Paschal in Atlanta.
In 1960, the club with a capacity to seat two hundred patrons opened its doors next to Paschal’s, a restaurant the brothers owned. Known as Atlanta’s “jazz mecca,” top notched jazz musicians and vocalists like Ramsey Lewis, Aretha Franklin and many others performed there on a regular basis.
Viewed as the “happening place” for the city’s African-Americans, the Pashchal Brothers also welcomed White patrons to the club, the only establishment to do so at the time. No wonder Isabelle’s love interest, Lincoln Davis selected the club for his romantic date with her. Not only was La Carousel Lounge a “happening” place, but it was a historical trendsetter for its time. Read about Isabelle’s exciting date with the handsome Lincoln Davis below. Enjoy.
Isabelle could spot Lincoln anywhere. She saw him the minute she came through the door. Lincoln looked handsome in his blue silk suit and shiny black Calvin Klein oxfords. He wore his suit well with his fine, commanding presence, and her heart fluttered with excitement. He made his way over to her, and his lips parted into a gangster grin. His swagger and handsome looks were magical to her, and Isabelle felt her knees buckle at the sight of him.
She managed to stay upright, drawing in a deep breath as she met him halfway.
“What’s up, Baby Girl?” he greeted her, grabbing her hand.
Goosebumps tingled up and down her arm when she touched his hand. She knew she was in deep, deep trouble. This aﬀair was going to hurt once it was all over. However, she couldn’t stop herself. She was swept up and dazzled by his sexual charm.
“How are you this evening?” she asked.
“Better now,” he grinned.
The music faded into a bebop rhythm, prompting a crowd to dash to the dance floor. Lincoln led Isabelle to the non-smoking section. He pulled out a chair from the table, and Isabelle sat.
“So, what are you drinking this evening?” he asked as he scooted his seat closer to her.
“Wine,” Isabelle said with her voice quivering a little. All of a sudden, she was nervous and overwhelmed with the whole situation.
“What kinda wine?” he inquired as he gestured for the waitress to come over.
“Merlot,” she said. The waitress bounced over, took their orders, and left just as quickly. The music changed from a bebop rhythm to a slow melodic tempo, turning the atmosphere into a romantic mood.
Lincoln leaned in closer, and she felt his hot breath on her cheek. “Care to dance?” he asked.
“No, I pass,” Isabelle replied cautiously.
“What are you so afraid of?”
“You,” she answered in a soft voice.
“What do you think is going to happen here?” he whispered in her ear.
Isabelle shrugged her shoulders, giggling nervously. “Nothing, I guess.”
He stood, towering over her, and grabbed her hand. “Let’s dance.”
He led her to the dance floor and pulled her to him, placing his left hand firmly on her hip. He held her close, and his muscular strength made her feel vulnerable and safe at the same time.
They floated across the room as if hypnotically synced as one. The fragrance of his lavender cologne made her swoon, and she thought she would faint. He held her closer, and she felt a hard ridge pressing on her abdomen. He was hard as a rock, and his arousal inflamed her sexual desire. When she gazed into his handsome ebony face, he leaned over, and his lips were five inches from hers.
He whispered, “The problem is…if I kissed you, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.”
“Go ahead,” Isabelle boldly said with her heart pounding in her chest. “I want you too.”
She felt the gentle press of his velvety dark lips on hers. He kissed her as if she belonged to him. For a moment, she could taste the next sixty years of her life as she surrendered to his intoxicating passion. He kissed the tip of her nose and moved to her neck gently nibbling and sucking on her soft skin. Isabelle’s eyes widen, and she pushed him away.
“No hickeys!” she scolded him.
“Okay,” he laughed.
He backed oﬀ. “Keep your panties on. I get it.”
He took her hand, and they returned to the table. Their drinks had arrived, and they both sat. Isabelle tasted her wine. It was smooth and dry, just the way she liked it.
“Mmm, very good,” she purred feeling pleased. Isabelle eased back in her seat and looked at Lincoln. “Do you come here often?”
“Been here a couple of times. It’s okay for a drink.”
“Mm-hmm,” Isabelle said.
They looked at each other for a long moment, and he said, “I kinda like you.”
“Kinda like me? What is that?”
He leaned in closer. “Okay, I like you.”
“This isn’t going to work. You’re married.”
Isabelle’s mahogany eyes sharply bored into him. “What do you mean ‘so’?”
“Do not challenge me, woman.”
Isabelle reared back with her temper flaring. “Oooooooo, you got the wrong one, my brother! I will challenge you if I damn well please. Who in the hell do you think you’re talking to?”
He cracked up laughing. “You’re so cute when you get mad.”
“Oh, you think I’m cute when I get mad? Well, get ready handsome, because I’m about to get fine as hell!”
“Isabelle, calm your sexy ass down,” he chuckled with his eyebrows touching.
“Well, nothing,” he interrupted her. He stood up and extended his hand. “Let’s dance, Baby Girl. You need to calm down.”
Isabelle giggled hysterically. She loved the way he handled her. Most men couldn’t deal with her temper, but he could. Lincoln saw right through her brash exterior, and it was refreshing. She took his hand, and they danced for the rest of the evening.
When he escorted her to her car, it was one o’clock in the morning. Before they parted, he planted a series of hot sizzling kisses on her lips and Isabelle fell for him before she even realized it. Until Next Time. Thanks For Reading.Comments Welcome.Purchase Your Copy Of This Steamy Entertaining Love Story by Clicking on the link below.
For a month, Lincoln stayed to himself. Isabelle, pleased with the break, admired him from afar. Every morning at seven thirty, she made herself a pot of Starbucks coﬀee. She relaxed at her desk and scanned the Atlanta Journal-Constitution while she waited for the coﬀee to brew. The coﬀee’s earthy aroma soon took over her oﬃce and her mouth watered as she anticipated its bold, sweet, spicy flavor. Once she heard the gurgling of the pot, she knew it was ready for consumption.
After pouring fresh coﬀee into a mug, Isabelle wrapped her fingers around it, enjoying the warm heat on her hands. The bold sweet flavor was soothing on her palate as the warm liquid eased down her throat.
It was Friday morning, the end of a long, stressful work week, and she needed her coﬀee to get through the day.
The sudden ringing of the telephone reminded her of a squeaky wheel on a twisted metal train track. Startled, Isabelle struggled to hold on to her coffee mug as she hurriedly answered the phone. “Good morning, this is Isabelle Perkins. May I help you?”
“What are you doing this weekend?” a thick voice growled on the other end.
“Who is this?” Isabelle asked in an abrasive tone.
“It’s Lincoln,” he chuckled.
“Whatever I’m doing, it doesn’t include you,” she fired back. He was back, just like an old rusty copper penny.
“Mmmm…we sure are feisty this morning,” he said in a playful tone.
“Lincoln, what do you want?”
“Forget it,” he said, sounding disappointed.
Isabelle quickly apologized, fearing she may have oﬀended him. “Look Lincoln, as much as I’d like to, I can’t do this. You are married.”
“Isabelle, it’s just a drink,” he flatly reminded her.
“I know, but I can’t.”
Frustrated and quiet, Isabelle drew in a deep breath.
There was a long pause before he answered. “Look, think about it, Baby Girl. I’ll call you on Monday.”
Isabelle busted out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” He sounded annoyed.
“You are such a trip. But don’t count on me changing my mind anytime soon.”
“You will,” he said with confidence. “But until then, have a nice weekend.”
“You too,” Isabelle laughed as she hung up the phone.
She fell back in her chair, floored. His persistence and single-minded tenacity were stunning. Turned on by his sexy heavy voice, the thought of his smooth, velvety lips caressing hers stirred hot juices deep inside her. Sexually stimulated, she felt guilty and ashamed. Good gracious! The man is married! Stop it, Isabelle!
For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why this man captivated her attention. There were plenty of single men available vying for her. Why this man? There was something about the way he connected with her. A spiritual and emotional knowing mixed with sexual, passionate energy stirring up lust inside of her and bringing on intense anxiety.
Isabelle sighed long and hard at the brevity of it all. She grabbed the coﬀee pot and poured more coﬀee into her mug. As she took a sip, Lincoln consumed her thoughts, and she worried that his pursuit of her would send her down a slippery slope. She was losing control and it would take all of her strength not to fall for him.
As soon as Lincoln hung up the phone, he left his oﬃce and took a break. As he headed to the dock, a slight odor of burning rubber sizzled in the air. Steno Corp was an optic fiber cable company outside of Atlanta. Every day, the company received new cables, and it often smelled like burning rubber. Lincoln coughed repeatedly bothered by the smoky odor. Once he made it outside, he collapsed in a wood chair five feet from the door. Lincoln inhaled sharply, taking in fresh, cold air. He reached in his shirt pocket for his pack of cigarettes.
He tapped the pack with his right index finger until a cigarette slid out into the palm of his hand. After he stuﬀed the pack back in his shirt pocket, he struck a match and lit up. Soon a thin trail of wispy gray smoke swirled over his head. He coughed after every puﬀ, and his throat stung. Many times he had thought about quitting, aware the habit could one day be a detriment to his health. However, for now, he didn’t have the will power to take on such a bruising task.
His thoughts turned to Isabelle, and he knew he had no business pursuing her. However, he was fascinated by her and drawn by her sexual energy. He imagined her curvy, petite body naked and draped in his arms with her looking up at him with those smoldering mahogany eyes, listening to her moan as he dipped deep into her hot, wet center of pleasure. The image in his head caused the bulge in his pants to stiﬀened like a rod.
He flinched when the cigarette he was smoking burned down to a dark, ashy nub blistering the tips of his long dark fingers. “Damn,” he said, dropping the nub on the ground and smashing it with his boot. He flinched when a shrill, screeching female voice blared over the intercom. “Lincoln Davis, you are needed in the warehouse!” He stood upright and adjusted the hard bulge in his pants. He swung the door opened and went inside.
Thank you for reading. Whiskey And Merlot A Love Story is schedule for release later this summer!