The Literary Loft by Author Monica Marie Jones

August 21, 2009

An Excerpt from My New Novel, “SWAG”

SWAG by Monica Marie Jones

SWAG by Monica Marie Jones

“SWAG is something that comes from with in and shines through on the outside. It draws people to you. It can’t really be taught or bought…Everyone has the power to unleash the SWAG within, but most never do. It’s really about being yourself and loving you from the inside out..When you love yourself from the inside out it emits an aura that is magnetic.” -Monica Marie Jones, Inspirationista!

Chapter 10
Pages 55-63

~Track Ten~

House of Swag

When the house guests entered Swag Central, they were told to leave their bags at the door and were directed to the massive boardroom where an intimidating panel stood before them behind a long cherry oak table.

Monroe was in the middle standing in front of a chair that was designed like a throne from medieval times.  To his right stood Connex, his personal assistant who had gotten his name because he had a knack for connecting people with other people, resources, and basically whatever they needed.  On the other side of Connex stood Bizzie, the world renowned choreographer that had worked for pretty much everyone that was anyone in the music industry.

To Monroe’s left stood super model, Maxine Moore, who was known for being the first Indian-American fashion icon.  Her last name wasn’t always Moore, but it was so long and hard to pronounce that she shortened it down to its first syllable and got it changed legally.   Madame Henri, pronounced as the French do (Ma-dom On-ree), sat to her left.  He was a stylist to the stars who towered over all of them in stilettos that added six inches to his already 6′5 frame.  His make-up was more flawless than Maxine’s and his aura screamed, Fierce!

As all of the house guests stood before the panel, Noelle couldn’t help but feel like a slave on the block being examined by a potential master. The camera men that milled about and the boom microphones that loomed overhead didn’t help matters.  Noelle couldn’t imagine how she would ever get used to their unremitting presence.  Even harder still was having to act as if they were not there as she’d agreed to in the contract that she signed when she consented to being on the show.

Initially the panel looked at all of the house guests collectively while they whispered to one another and took notes.  Just as Noelle began to find comfort in the fact that she did not have to stand before them alone, Connex announced that they would like to see each of them one at a time.

“Alright kids, while you are waiting to be called go ahead and get settled into your rooms.  Fellas, you are in the black room and ladies, you are in the purple room.  We would like to see Noelle first,” he added without looking up from the forest green file folder full of 8×10 glossy headshots that lay on the table before him.

Noelle felt that familiar drop in her stomach that she felt every time she was either in an uncomfortable situation or going down a hill on a roller coaster.  She stood before the panel and began her regular nervous habit of picking with her fingernails.  They stared at her, took notes and whispered to one another for what seemed like hours before Monroe finally said, “Turn around.”

She hesitated for a moment to see if he was serious but quickly turned when Madame Henri gave her a look that was so telling that he might as well have gotten up, knocked on the side of her head and said, “Hello, is anybody home?”  He was well known for humiliating people in that way.

“Keep turning,” he said after she had stood with her back to them for a few moments.

“She needs to lose weight,” he said to Maxine.

Her heart dropped.  She knew that eventually her weight might be an issue, but she wasn’t prepared for it to be the first thing that came up.  She was not what one would overtly consider fat, but she was definitely thick and a lot softer than she would have liked to be in several places.  Slowly but surely, the pounds crept up on her year after year ever since she began dating Jonah.  It was probably due to the fact that they spent hours lying up under each other.  When they weren’t doing that, they went out to eat quite often or ordered take-out on a regular basis.  As a result she had packed on almost forty pounds from the time he had moved in with her.  The pounds might not have been as noticeable had she been taller, but she stood at a mere 5′4″.
“I’ll arrange for Cutz to come in tomorrow morning for a session instead of next week,” Connex said as he scribbled something onto the yellow legal pad that he’d been writing on.  Cutz was a personal trainer that was notorious for whipping many a doughy celebrity body into camera, movie, or video-ready shape.  She was excited but frightened at the same time. On other reality shows that he made guest appearances on, she had seen him make grown men cry with no mercy, so she knew that she was in for some very grueling work.

“Noelle?” Maxine said in voice that didn’t have a trace of the accent of her native tongue.  “Why do you believe that you have what it takes to be the next Swag Superstar?”

Noelle opened her mouth to answer, but the words seem to be caught in the back of her throat.  All of the answers that swirled through her mind seemed so contrived, so she answered in the most genuine way that she knew how.  She took a deep breath from her diaphragm and belted out a freestyle verse.

“Haven’t you ever…
Been thinking while you sleep…
Mind racing constantly…
With thoughts of what could be…
If you lived what you dreamed…
Your world would be complete…
Rolled out before your feet…
Your path to destiny…
If you lived what you dreamed.”

She sung what she felt deep within her heart.  She could have gone on and on.  She was in a zone.  When she opened her eyes, she saw that the usually outspoken panel was speechless.  Bizzie’s mouth was even wide open.  She didn’t know what she should do next so she giggled nervously being sure to look down at the ground so no one on the panel would think that she was laughing at them.

“Thank you, Noelle.  Please go to your room and tell Taylor to come out,” Monroe said in a voice that was clearly shaken.  His tone was so abrupt, so final.  Had she done something wrong?

Noelle did as she was told, not quite sure what to make of their reaction to her impromptu song.  She just hoped that she hadn’t jeopardized her chances of remaining on the show for not answering correctly.  She did answer their question after all…just in her own way.

Noelle wiped the beads of sweat that had formed on the bridge of her nose and beneath her eyes as she walked into the girls’ room.   She saw that the other two female house guests had claimed their beds leaving her with no other choice but to sleep on the one that was left.

It was a twin sized day bed that was housed inside of a cove in the wall that was right in front of the window.   It took the place of where a window sill might otherwise be.  She found that getting a daily fifteen minute dose of sunlight did wonders to keep her spirits high so the bed was a perfect fit for her despite the fact that it was the least luxurious of the three.  She figured that it was done intentionally so in order to cause drama based on who was stuck with the last choice, but she had no plans to make a fuss.  The way that it was set back into the wall gave her more privacy.  She wasn’t sure if they were allowed to alter the room but maybe she’d drape some fabric or funky beaded curtains to close off the space even further.

There was a stunning natural blonde with piercing ice blue eyes on the canopy bed near the door.  A light brown girl with a long blonde weave that hung down her back just short of her behind and slanted eyes was unpacking her things and placing them in an antique armoire next to her circular bed on the other side of the room.

When they’d entered the house initially, they were immediately faced with the panel after arriving in separate cars provided by a local limousine service.  They still had not had an opportunity for introductions.  Noelle made eye contact with the blue-eyed blonde.

“Taylor, the panel wants to see you next,” she said.  Those piercing eyes became filled with confusion.

“Taylor?  My name is TaKeysha,” she said with major attitude and what sounded like a slight yet forced Latin accent.  Noelle felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment.  Now she was the one that was confused.

“I’m Taylor.” A voice that was a strange combination of nasally and huskiness came from behind her. “I bet you won’t be so quick to feed into racial stereotypes anymore now, will you?  There are black girls named Taylor, and now I see that there are white girls named TaKeysha as well.”

“Who are you calling white? My dad is one eighth Puerto Rican,” TaKeysha said, correcting Taylor.

“My bad, Christina Aguilera,” Taylor said crassly while flinging her infinite tresses over her shoulder and walking out of the door.

“Puta!” TaKeysha spat after her.

Noelle knew that the name TaKeysha had called Taylor was something bad, but she wasn’t sure what exactly.  She made a mental note to Google it later to find the translation.  She expected there to be drama in the house, but she never would have thought that things would start popping off this soon.

Monroe

Seeing her on the video was one thing, but now that he had experienced her gift first hand he was affected beyond measure.

Monroe looked around at the other panelists.  They were all silently examining him.  They could tell that he had been affected.  Normally after screening a contestant, they had much to discuss…even if it were jokes about their appearance or talent, or lack thereof.
The cameras were waiting patiently for their response to Noelle.  Monroe suddenly became aware of them.  He knew they needed something.  Dead air was just not acceptable.

For once in his life, he was literally speechless, so he was relieved when Bizzie saved him by saying, “I don’t know about y’all, but I feel like we don’t even need to see anyone else.”

“Biz.  She was the first one,” Maxine said.

“I know, but she has the voice, the look, and she is humble.  That is a rare combination. In all my years in this business, I’ve never experienced anything like her.”
“Experience,” Monroe said the word and paused. “That’s the right word.  You don’t just see her, you don’t just hear her…you feel her. Noelle is an experience.  That will be our hook for her.” Monroe’s mind was reeling.

“And was it just me or did she freestyle those lyrics?  I bet she can write, too.  That is most definitely money in the bank,” Madame Henri added in his regal rendition of British dialect.

“Connex, I need a drink.” Connex scampered away to the bar in Monroe’s office and fixed his signature drink, Belvedere vodka on the rocks with a twist of freshly squeezed lime juice.

He served it to Monroe who drank it down in a single gulp.

***

Maxine and Madame Henri exchanged knowing glances.  This Noelle had Monroe shook down to the core.  Women like Noelle stirred something deep within him because music was his passion.  What Noelle displayed before the panel was passionate music personified.  So needless to say, they’d never seen Monroe in such a state of disequilibrium.

Monroe had problems in the past with his dealings with women, but over the last few years he’d worked hard to polish his tarnished reputation.  None of the women that he had dealt with could even compare to Noelle.  He had to watch his step.

If he gave her too much special attention like Maxine guessed that he might, the media would have a field day exploiting how Monroe “Paper” Chase had gone back to his old womanizing ways.  Maxine made a mental note to pull him to the side to discuss this matter once the cameras were off.

***

When Taylor entered the room, an evident wave of disappointment washed over Monroe.  His disenchantment stemmed from the fact that for now, their discussion of Noelle had to end.

WANT MORE?  Order NOW http://www.monicamariejones.com/products.htm

December 27, 2008

My Kwanzaa Gift to You: A Big Fat Juicy Excerpt from FLOSS!

Filed under: Book Talk — monicamariejones @ 2:36 am
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FLOSS by Monica Marie Jones

FLOSS by Monica Marie Jones

Prologue

 

Jabez

Jabez was certain that he had been blessed with the gift of discernment, but sometimes he wasn’t sure whether it was really a gift, or if it was a curse. With this gift Jabez could look at people beyond face value and tell what they were really about deep down.

His gift kicked in as he watched the scantily clad women in denim miniskirts and bikini tops walk past him on Ocean Drive in South Beach. He mentally created a bio for each one of them. After attending Urban Beach Week in Miami for the first time two years ago, they’d decided to make the trip the traditional yearly get away for the fellas during Memorial Day Weekend… in memory of how much fun they’d had the first time. 

While everyone else in the crew slept in after a night of partying hard at SoBe Live Nightclub, Jabez elected to rise early to take in the scenery which consisted of an array of women spanning from mediocre to exotic. He was quite pleased to see that the spectrum was much heavier on the exotic side. As amazing as they all appeared to be, none of them intrigued him more than the woman who had his attention at the moment. His mind drifted to thoughts of her.

Her name was Dionysus. The name was fitting. She was named after a male Greek God, and while there was no mistaking that she was all woman, she thought and acted like a guy. They had been involved for a few months now, but from the beginning he’d had her all figured out. She was extremely gorgeous but to the world around her she appeared to be a high maintenance, money hungry, manipulator. These titles did ring true when it came to her actions, but Jabez could tell that beneath the surface that she had a good heart and that her ways stemmed from some deeper issues.

“What are you drinking on?” Asked a sun kissed sister who had invited herself to sit on the empty wicker barstool next to him.

“Vodka and Cranberry,” He said in a tone laced with an underlying message that nonverbally asked, Why? Are you buying?

He wouldn’t be surprised if she did buy his drink. She was clearly pressed. He knew this because she had been watching him for the longest and doing all of the little things that women do to make sure that they get noticed. Things like walking by with a slow and deliberate swagger to make sure that he saw her ample behind in shorts that were two sizes too small.

“Really? That’s my favorite drink!” She hesitated, obviously waiting and hoping that he would never allow a lady to buy his drink, but that he would instead graciously pick up the tab for both of them. If she had she been sincere, he would have done just that, but she was trying to be slick.

“Thanks for sharing.” He said in a voice dripping with syrupy sincerity before turning back to his favorite past time of people watching. He laughed to himself at the thought of how stupid she must be sitting there looking. What he really wanted to say was, Baby, I am from Detroit, so you are really going to have to step your game up if you want something from me. Poor girl. He would have felt sorry for her, but he knew that the fact that she couldn’t have him just made her want him that much more.

Women. So complicated, yet so simple. He had traveled the world and experienced women of every color, and for the most part, they were all basically the same. But there was one thing he knew for sure. Detroit women were in a class of their own.

Take Dionysus’ cousin, Torah for example. She was just as materialistic as Dionysus but people also had her pegged as an airhead and a freak. What they didn’t realize was that she was far smarter than what people thought. She was one of those people to watch out for because while folks thought that things were going over her head, she was actually absorbing it all like a sponge. On countless occasions Jabez had witnessed her observing, listening and taking in everything around her.

For a moment, he wished that Dionysus was there with him in South Beach so that he could tell her about this silly broad. He glanced over and saw that she was still sitting there plotting her next attempt at getting and keeping his attention. If Dionysus were here, she would have saved him from this unsavory situation while still giving him the freedom to pursue other women as much as he pleased. He would give her the same space. That was one of the many things he appreciated about what they had. It was an unspoken understanding.

Jabez and Dionysus were very open and honest with one another so she was aware of and informed about the other women that he dated as was he about the men that she dated. This was due to the fact that even though they were not boyfriend and girlfriend they knew that they held the top spot in each other’s lives.

Whether she knew it or not, she was what he considered his “Main.” This meant that she was his main girl of the many that he dealt with. It was a situation that was any man’s dream. They would often sit back and crack jokes about their respective suitors and how dense they all were. The most idiotic one in her roster was a guy named Tyse.

Tyse was a younger cat that had many people fooled into believing that he was a lot more important than he really was. When Dionysus told Jabez about Tyse, she initially believed the game that he ran on her to be true, but what she told him just didn’t add up so Jabez knew from the start that this guy was full of himself. He just hoped that her instincts would kick in soon enough to figure out what this Tyse character was really about before he made a fool out of her.

Tyse wasn’t too different from his boy Solomon. Solomon wasn’t as far gone as to pretend that he was someone he was not, which appeared to be the case with Tyse, but he went out of his way to keep up appearances. Maybe he could pass this bothersome girl off to Solomon once he woke up. Just the mere fact that she had shown interest in Jabez would make Sol want to try his hand at getting with her. He was that type of guy.

It was clear that wherever she was from, she was used to getting attention. Perhaps the one out of her clique that got the most attention. She had obviously handpicked Jabez to be her sponsor for the weekend, but he was not accepting the position. Solomon, on the other hand would gladly blow all of his money on a big butt and a smile.

Solomon worked hard at trying to impress others by having the best of everything whether he could really afford it or not. He had no problem with living beyond his means. His main concerns were trying to keep up with Jabez and trying to compete with their other friend since childhood named Abel.

Abel was a hard act to follow because he had a lot going for himself. He had achieved success in the areas of education, business, women, and everything else that a man measures his worth by with half of the effort. To top it all off, he was an all around good guy with a great personality and a giving spirit; so it was really hard to hate him for all that he had. He was one of those guys that you couldn’t help but be happy for.

Jabez had them all figured out, himself included. He knew that he had a lot handed to him by his wealthy parents, but he also knew that it took hard work to keep it and get more. Unfortunately he was also aware that no matter how much you have, or how hard you work to keep it, things can still be snatched away from you in an instant. 

He worked hard so he played hard. Like everyone else, he wanted a taste of the finer things in life and he wanted the world to know that he knew what the flavor was. For that very reason Jabez, Dionysus, Torah, Tyse, Solomon and Abel all had one love in common. They all lived and loved to FLOSS.


 


CHAPTER 1

 

Dionysus

Since Jabez, the one she really wanted to be with, wasn’t available, she took Tyse up on his offer. They’d agreed to meet at his place at 7pm and from there they would ride to the restaurant together. In order to get her out of the broken nail induced slump that she had been in, Dionysus decided to get all dolled up. She put on a fresh pair of low-rise, fitted stretch denim jeans over her favorite thong and a tight blazer that was designed like a bustier over her matching padded push up bra from Victoria’s Secret.

The jacket, fastened with shiny silver clasps down the front, streamlined her waist that was already small to begin with. It was open at the bottom so it showed off her flat stomach adorned with a sparkling navel ring. After putting a few loose and messy curls in her thick hair she applied her false eyelashes, coal eyeliner and some clear Mac Lip Glass. She finished the job by spraying her entire body with Sweet Temptations body spray and stepping into her black leather stiletto pumps. She was well aware that Tyse took pride in using her as his show piece so she played right into the role. It was well worth all of the money that he spent on her.

When she was done primping she glanced at the clock and was stunned to realize that it was 7:15pm and she had not heard from Tyse yet. She grabbed her keys, purse and a leather jacket and headed for her car, a brand new SUV that was a gift from a smitten fan of hers that she hadn’t even so much as allowed to sniff her goods.

He paid the car note on time, every month, like clockwork by simply depositing the amount into her Pay Pal account online. All she had to do was post one of her sexy modeling photos on the computer for him to look at while he masturbated. His only request was that she watch him do it on his webcam while typing an occasional sexy sentence every now and then on Instant Messenger. She never even had to turn on her web video camera. The picture, a shot of her in a bikini from the back looking over her shoulder seductively at the camera, was enough to do it for him.

He was old, overweight and disgusting to her, so she never really looked at the cam unless she and her cousin wanted a good laugh. It was an easy way to ride in style with little effort. It also helped that he lived in Atlanta, and as far as he knew, she lived in L.A. so she never had to run the risk of running into him on the streets.

  Once inside of the truck she popped in an old school Teena Marie CD then called Tyse and began to get perturbed when she got his voice mail.

“Hey Tyse, its Di, I am heading your way, call me and let me know what’s up. If I don’t hear from you by the time I get in your area don’t bother calling, as a matter of fact I will be gracious and give you until 8pm.” Click.

She didn’t have time for more of his games. Granted she did have a good time when she went out with him but the games had far outweighed the good times. He was lots of fun, not so much because he had a great personality, but because he pulled all of the stops to make sure that she was having an enjoyable experience.

For Di, the basic requirements of an enjoyable experience included having all of the men drooling and all of the women jealous wherever she went. This was always the case when she went out with Tyse because he was extremely flashy and loved the attention just as much if not more than she did.

His looks were decent so aside from the fact that he was three inches shorter than her, his presence was tolerable. Besides, good looks were not necessarily a requirement to win Di’s time. For her, it was more about how the bankroll was looking.

So, even more important than the fun and the looks was the fact that he spent lots of money on her, but his inconsistency was beginning to become an annoyance.

She did not appreciate getting stood up. Who did he think he was? Did he realize how many men would have loved to spend this time with her? As she neared his street she had come to the conclusion that she was indeed being stood up. She passed right by his street because she would never stoop to the level of being pressed enough to drive by his house.

One of the few things that her mother taught her, that actually made sense, was never to pop up over anyone’s house uninvited or without calling first. Not only was it rude to the person receiving the surprise visit, but the surprise visitor has now left him or herself open to getting the same type of unpleasant surprise as well. A surprise such as realizing that they are being played because the person that they are visiting is already entertaining company.

It also opened up room for the false notion that they had the right to do the same thing and there was no way she was relinquishing her right to uninterrupted privacy. She stood by these beliefs firmly and it went both ways. All of her men knew that if they ever popped up over her place unannounced they would get thoroughly cussed out and quickly dropped.

She started to turn around, go back home and continue watching her Sex in the City DVD, but then she decided that she would treat herself to dinner. She was already looking good and she was not about to waste this cute outfit, hairdo, and fresh set of false eyelashes on a night at home alone. She was also motivated by the fact that there were always a ton of fine single men with lots of money at The Good Times Grill on Friday nights.

When she got there the place was packed. She took a moment to admire her favorite work of art, The Good Times Mural with all of the exaggeratedly curvaceous women and their male counterparts having a funky good time on the dance floor. It was mounted at the entrance of the restaurant and surrounded by soft accent lighting. She took a deep breath and rotated her neck to release the unnecessary frustration and tension that Tyse had caused.

After running her fingers through her freshly pressed mane, she held her head up high and strutted through the crowd with a walk that she knew would turn every head that she passed. As she made her way through the narrow walkway near the bar she made it a point to “accidentally” brush her chest and behind up against every fine man whose path she crossed, being sure to place a dainty hand someplace on their body accompanied by a coy yet innocent, “Oh, excuse me.” She knew exactly what she was doing. She left every single man that she passed with something to think about.

Even the women couldn’t help but stare. The secure ones looked on in awe of her undeniable beauty and the ones with low self-esteem might as well have been wearing green contact lenses to match their envious glares. Those who where with their men either held them a little tighter or looked at them to see if they were looking at her. They were looking, and those who weren’t just happened to be seated with their back to the door so they hadn’t seen her yet. She would make sure to make a special trip to the bathroom so they would get a chance to see what all of the fuss was about.

She found a single chair to squeeze into at the bar between an older man and two girlfriends who were cackling and chatting away. She would have preferred to be surrounded by men but since this was the only seat open, it would have to do. She needed to be seated where the action was. A seat at a table or booth would not suffice. She had to be strategically placed where she could see and be seen.

She loved attention. She would have gotten it even if she was seated in a dark corner by the kitchen, but why not make it easy and obvious by situating herself in the place where she belonged…the center of attention.

 As she waited for the bartender to acknowledge her presence she acted as if she was thoroughly engaged in the Piston’s basketball game that was showing on one of the many TV screens mounted above the bar. As she did this she felt the stares from around the room of men who were admiring her and wondering if she could really possibly be there alone.

For a brief moment she took her eyes away from the TV screen to scan the room. As she looked from face to face she made eye contact with several men who looked as if they wanted more. She made sure to linger a little on each one, batting her extended lashes, to give them the notion that they might have a chance with her.

Her visual flirting frenzy was interrupted when the bartender came to her and said,

“Hey sweetheart, my man over there in the Lions football jersey wants to know what you are drinking.” As the bartender awaited her response he gazed at her with a perceptive glance that let her know that he was well aware of all of the attention she had been getting.

“Chardonnay please.” She told him without hesitation.

“But only if it is a bottle that has been opened this evening.”

She didn’t want a bottle that was flat and flavorless because it had been opened days before. She smiled and made it a point to give him the same flirtatious eye contact that she had given the rest of the men in the room that were checking her out. He smiled as he turned away from the corked bottle that he was about to serve her from and reached into the wine refrigerator below the bar to open a fresh bottle for her. She winked to show her gratitude.

She wanted to make sure to play all of her cards right and keep all of her options open. During their brief dialogue she had taken note of the way the muscles that went from his neck to his shoulders were bulging beneath his polo styled work shirt. She had concluded that he was quite sexy indeed despite the fact that she knew that on a bartender’s salary he could never support the lifestyle she was accustomed to. She had to admit that she might be able to overlook his meager earnings because he could be useful in other ways…the bedroom in particular.

She knew from experience that men with money were not always guaranteed to have great sex. More often than not they used their money and material possessions to compensate for what they were lacking in the physical relations department, so she kept a few good men on the side to meet her needs. As long as they did not get attached, they were a welcomed treat. If she could find a man that had it going on in the bedroom and at the bank he might mess around and have her strung out!

            She gave the man in the jersey a quick once over, even though she really didn’t care much about what anyone who wanted to buy her a drink looked like. She could always just take the drink and leave it at that. He was tall, with cashew colored skin, raw, not roasted, and cute enough, although she preferred chocolate over vanilla any day. She gave him a sultry smile to non-verbally thank him for the drink, which he mistakenly took as an invitation to come over and talk with her.

            He made his way around the crowded bar over to the side where she was sitting. When he got close enough to her he put his arm on the bar between her and the people to her left dividing her from half of the bar. He territorially hovered over her whispering closely in her ear.

“How are you doing sweetheart?”

She was all too familiar with this behavior. He was putting the claim down on her. Men often did this to her when she was in a situation like the present one where most of the guys in the room were vying for her attention. The ones who were bold enough to approach her usually made some gesture to let the other guys in the room know that he had reigned victorious and claimed the treasure that everyone was out to get.

 Whether they hovered over her, held her hand, or wrapped an arm around her shoulder she was equally irritated by all of the signals. Even worse was the arm around the waist or the hand at the small of her back that would always predictably slide a little too close to her behind.  She only wanted to appear to be hemmed up if it was by her own choice, not by some buster who needed an ego boost.

            She inconspicuously backed away from him as far as she could without sitting in the lap of the older guy next to her. When she could not possibly move any farther she reared her head and neck back making it clear to him how important her personal space was to her. Unlike most dudes he got the picture and backed up a bit.

“Check this out, my name is Solomon and I’m about to get up out of here to go and check out this cabaret. I saw you over here looking real nice and I was just wondering if I could take you to brunch at Sweet Georgia Brown’s tomorrow?” The sound of Sweet Georgia Brown’s rang in her ear like gold coins being shifted in a treasure chest. She knew that a man who could take her to eat at a place like that had to have some money.

She flashed her sexy smile and grazed her hand over the surface of his belt until she reached his phone case. She slid the phone out, programmed her name and number in, and replaced it in under two minutes flat. She chose to do it this way for two reasons. First, she knew that suggestively tracing his belt the way that she did would turn him on and leave him with something to think about. Second, she programmed her number in his phone below the bar so that it was out of sight of any other suitors that approached her with desirable offers that night. Dionysus was always on top of her game.

            After he left it was like he’d caused a domino effect because glass after glass of Chardonnay began to be sent over to her by several men around the room. The sexy bartender even slid her a glass, on the house, making sure that she knew it was from him. After her sixth glass she was beginning to feel really good. The normal woman her size would have been wasted after the second glass, but she drank everyday so she had built up quite the tolerance.

She was laughing, talking and mingling without even having to leave her seat at the bar. It was as if men were lined up and patiently waiting their turn to entertain her. As one would leave another would approach soon after.

 At the peak of her enjoyment, who else but Tyse, came strolling in, headed her way. She quickly glanced at the digital time display on her cell phone and took note that he was two hours, 37 minutes and 56 seconds late. He was about to get a rude awakening because no one played her like that without feeling her wrath.

He came prancing over like nothing had ever happened, just like it was still 8pm and their date was just beginning. He took note of all of the drinks and empty glasses in front of her as well as all of the attention that she was getting from the guys. Once he took in the entire scene he decided that he was about to put the claim down on her really heavy. He wrapped both arms around her from the back, constricting her arms and putting her in a position of powerlessness that she absolutely abhorred.

He then began kissing on her face and her neck. At this point she was buzzing so hard that she didn’t attempt to be inconspicuous or elegant about her behavior. He was not about to come up in here and mess up the good vibe that she had going after standing her up.

She yanked her body away from him like the saliva from his kisses was acid burning her face. She did it so abruptly and thoroughly that she knocked over one of her glasses of wine and spilled it on the person next to her. Luckily the two girls that were sitting there were gone or there might have been a fight. In their place were two guys in their late thirties.

            She turned to the man that was wearing her wine and began apologizing profusely while simultaneously taking in his looks, clothing and watch. Instantly she made the decision that she would use him to complete her task of letting Tyse have it. Completely turning her back on Tyse she gave her undivided attention to the man that she had spilled her drink on.

“Ooh baby, I am soooo sorry. Here let me get that for you.” She said while gingerly wiping every drop of wine from her new pawn’s clothing with a napkin. She spent a little extra time tending to his lap and crotch area for good measure.  He seemed to be quite satisfied with the fact that this beautiful young thang was touching him all over. He responded by saying,

 “Its cool sugar, let me buy you another drink, what was that you were drinking on?”

She sensed Tyse’s presence and could have sworn she felt the heat from his rising anger on the back of her neck. Without turning around she knew that he was still right behind her so she decided to lay it on even more thickly. 

“I was drinking on Chardonnay, but I feel so bad. You are looking all nice and I had to go and mess that up. Let me make it up to you. I can pay for your dry cleaning or something. As a matter of fact, here, take my number and you can call me and let me know what I can do to make it up to you.” She said laced with a taste of flirtation and a pinch of seduction. She winked at him to seal the deal. Checkmate!

            This time there was no mistaking it. She could really feel the heat from Tyse and knew that he was seething because she had given another man her number right in his face. Even though he was sitting down she could tell that the man she was flirting with was well over six feet tall. He spoke to her with a confidence that made it seem as if Tyse didn’t even exist. With his 5’5 frame devoid of any substantial muscle tone Tyse was no match for this older man.

He walked away with his head down but that did not stop her from seeing the anger and defeat in his eyes. He stood on the other side of the room and stared at her like a wounded puppy dog that had just lost a fight with a pit bull. She looked at him with a sly smile and a devilish glare and said out loud to no one in particular,

“Cross my path, and you WILL feel my wrath.”

 

 

 

GET YOUR COPY AT http://www.monicamariejones.com to read the rest!

November 18, 2008

My Next Novel…SWAG

Filed under: Book Talk — monicamariejones @ 2:36 am

SWAGI’m working on several new novels at the same time, but one in particular keeps pulling on my heart strings.  It it is a novel called SWAG that I am challenging myself to release by March of 2009 just in time to take copies to the Wagfest Literary Event in Seattle, WA.

Today I took a stab at writing the synopsis, but right now it sounds more like a review.  Here is what I have come up with.

Noelle stepped out on faith and left her full time job to pursue her passion of singing full time.  Now six months have passed and other than a gig at a night club or wedding here and there, her singing career hasn’t gone much of anywhere.

She spends most of her time sitting up under her charismatic, yet sneaky boyfriend, Jonah, like a loyal and faithful puppy.  Although there is no doubt that Jonah loves her, his love for women in general far outweighs his desire to give her the proposal of marriage that she wants so badly.

After Jonah uses her hopes of an engagement to manipulate a situation so that it will work in his favor, Noelle gets fed up and decides to move forward with her career…with or without Jonah.

This unfortunate turn of events prompts Noelle to take advantage of an offer that would have been impossible for anyone in their right mind to refuse, but as usual, she put the needs of Jonah before her own and had considered declining.  His reluctance to propose pushed her to accept the invitation to be a house guest on the popular, hit reality show, House of Swag.  On the show aspiring entertainers with the potential to take it to the next level are trained to become multifaceted mega stars.

While in the house she catches the eye of the shows creator, Monroe “Paper” Chase.  He uses his good looks and smooth talk to charm her, then he uses his money and power to attempt to subtract Jonah from the equation.  She is faced with another challenge when the attention that she gets from Monroe sparks envy in other house guests who are not beyond trying to bring her down to get ahead.

As Noelle rises toward super stardom she has some difficult choices to make.   What lies ahead of her looks so much better that what she has left behind.  Will she work to keep the love that she and Jonah shares alive, or will she choose fame, fortune and a man who can make all of her dreams come true?

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