Writing Tea
June… it is the halfway point of 2023
After months of having serious writer's block, your girl is back at it. Writing not one, but two WIPs. One of which is VERY different for me that combines some paranormal elements, contemporary romance, and a little sports stuff. Basically, all the things I love with a “high concept” behind them. I struggled to figure out what that even meant. But with the help of my critique partners and friends, I think we’ve narrowed it down. I did #20kin5Days with Wordmakers which, when I started this WIP, took me from like 1200 words at the beginning of May, to about 49K words in June. I would like to tap out at 60K…no more long-winded writing for your girl. LOL. I’ve learned to plot better and really craft a tight timeline. Also, I was forced to write a synopsis before the book was even done, which helped me figure out where to go with this. I have a good handle on things and hope to be done with WIP 1 by August and WIP 2 by September/October. The novella I had planned will have to wait a second.
I wish I could say more, but I have my fingers and toes crossed that this will get picked up and you all will enjoy it.
Podcast Tea
The podcast has officially wrapped for season 4. We had amazing guests and ended it with Danielle Jackson, author of The The Accidental PinUp. We talked about her upcoming release and follow up to this, Accidentally in Love. Most of all, I could give Danielle her flowers. Her book really pushed me to finish mine. Once I saw she wrote a book about a confident, plus sized woman, I knew that people also wanted more stories like that.
Also, Yakini came back for the last episode. She had been gone most of the season due to recovery from a pretty nasty car accident. So that was nice. We could catch up and let you all know what’s going to be going down Season 5.
So, if you are interested in being our season 5 BookToker who wants to share their book picks, hit me up on social media or email romanceincolour@gmail.com. Must read BIPOC books foremost, across a variety of romance subgenres, indie and traditionally published.
Random Tea
Father’s Day and Juneteenth are the same weekend. I had never been big on Father’s Day because, to be honest, my father and I had a strained relationship. It has been so cool to see my baby girl and my husband have the type of relationship that I wish I had with my dad. She is truly a daddy’s girl. They do everything from build Lego sets to sing songs on the car ride to school. She curls up with him on the sofa and she also goes to wrestling events with him. This weekend it is all about her celebrating him.
We got a Juneteenth flag for our house. I’ve never been one to display flags like that, but because Opal Lee, the grandmother of the Juneteenth movement, is also a member of Zeta Phi Beta, I told myself I will go all out for Juneteenth every year from now on. SO we got flags, shirts. Etc. to celebrate the day. Black folks should spend the day doing whatever the fuck they want to do or NOT do. It’s not a day of service. It’s not a day of sadness. It is a gleeful, joyful time celebrating OUR freedom from slavery.
Also, time is winding down to when I will be at One Love in Charleston. I have a ton of things on my plate to order or do, so I will need to make sure I handle that in June/July before I head there.
Tati is Reading
Your girl is tackling many audiobooks as I work from home. They keep me going. I have been listening to some amazingly, steamy stuff including:
Cougar CockTales by N’Tyse. A collection of short novellas about cougars and their varied sexual trysts.
Then I got deep into my Daddy bag with Katee Robert and her novella Gifting Me to His Best Friend.
The other was Zora Books her Happy Ever After by my girl Taj McCoy. I didn't know I’d like a love triangle but I did. And I kinda of figured out the twist before she said so, but enjoyed the ride.
I am also trying to listen to Fourth Wing on my Libby app, but I am going to be honest; I keep falling asleep. I may have to read it instead. The writing is amazing but I think fantasy probably is just better to be read than listened to (unless there is sound affects)
NEWSLETTER EXCLUSIVE: A “Build Up” Bonus Chapter (Part 2)
Note: I was going to give you this brand-new bonus chapter all at once, but with the advice of my husband, he told me to break it up. So here is part 2 of the newsletter exclusive bonus chapter from The Build Up. Enjoy.
After polishing off the tacos and fruit juices, Porter and I settled in on the coach to continue to watch home improvement shows. Between shows, I dozed off and my head landed on Porter's shoulder. I could feel him kiss me on the top of my hair ,his hand eventually finding their way to my belly as he rubbed slowly. After a few hours, Porter leaned close to my ear, a slightly devilish green appearing on his face. “So are you ready for the surprise?”
I lifted my head and sat on the sofa, crisscross like a kid bouncing on my bottom. “Absolutely.”
Porter bit his lips, blushing his bottom lip with a flush of peachy-pink. “Ok. But, I have to blindfold you”. Before I could object, he held out a tea towel from the kitchen and tied it across my eyes.
“Uhm, Porter. What is this?” I asked. I didn’t get a response. I could just hear Porter shuffling around and things clicking and clunking around. I heard what seemed like the flick of a lighter and I got a little worried.
“Listen, Porter, I am totally not into candle wax all over my body.”
Porter chuckled slowly. “You aren’t? The girl with the anal beads in her drawer?”
I folded my arms and pursed my lips in annoyance. “After all these years, you really won’t let me live that down”.
“Nope. I won’t”.
“But I let you use them on me that time when….”
Porter coughed, then laughed.” Oh my God, Ari, will you let me focus?”
I laughed. “Ok, but we just had tacos, so if you’re thinking about..”
Porter, sounding far away, nearly yelled. “Ari, can you please not make any more anal jokes? I’m trying to set the mood.”
I snorted. “Well, I am just saying…”
Porter was closer to me, the scent of his cologne signaling his presence. “Can I slip this dress off you?” he asked in a low baritone voice.
I nodded my head. Slowly, I felt Porter’s thumbs hook under the straps of my dress, letting the thin material pool at my feet. My breasts, heavier than every now, ached as my nipples hardened against the cool air.
I felt Porter slowly remove the folded towel from my eyes. My vision adjusted, and I looked around. The blinds and curtains in the house were drawn. Candles of varying size were lit all around the mantle of the fireplace, which was on. “It’s been an hour since you've been gone. And that’s too long so come back home” begged K-Ci from the Bluetooth speakers.
To the side of the fireplace, Porter had moved my chaise lounge chair and a few of the plants from the sunroom. There was an easel set up along with one of my dining room chairs.
“What is going on?” I laughed. “This looks highly flammable.”
Porter didn’t crack a smile. Instead, he motioned for me to sit on the chaise between the fake palms. I sat and tapped my fingers against my exposed thighs and watched as Porter removed his shirt, stripping down to his jeans.
“I wanted to capture this moment in time”, said Porter. “Where my wife couldn’t be anymore beautiful.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling heat crawl across my body. “Taking a page out of Desmond’s playbook, huh?”
“Kind of”, said Porter. “But this painting is just for my eyes only.”
I pretended to swoon on the chaise. “Paint me like one of your French Girls” I said, recalling the line from Titanic.
Porter laughed.” You’re something else. Now, sit back and just relax.”
“Have you ever done this before?” I asked. It felt like something Porter had done many times with a woman. I bet he had a closet full of canvases of half-naked chicks in his loft that he cleared out when we got married.
“Yes, and no. I painted nudes in college for sure. But I’ve painted no one I’ve known personally nude. This is a first. You think you can sit there? And pose for me? I already know you can take direction very well.”
I felt hot and flush. The pulse in my neck throbbed with excitement. I wiped my hands against my thighs. “I’m nervous. I’m all big and pregnant. My ankles are swollen and..”
“Hush,” said Porter, with a smile. “All I see is the most beautiful woman at the most beautiful stage of her life. You’re glowing, my love.”
“I could have at least put on some makeup”, I quipped.
“Then that would be cheating. I like to focus on the sensuousness of reality,” said Porter. He peeked around the massive canvas, biting his lower lip. “You ready?”
The muscles of my pelvis tightened and my nipples grew harder at Porter’s voice. The music was still thumping low. I wasn’t sure if the bass was coming from the speaker or my baby moving to the beat.
I moved my shoulders a bit and leaned against the back of the chaise. Porter’s eyes were laser- focused on me as I settled into what I thought was a comfortable pose. He finally stood up and walked toward me.
“I want you to turn around and lie on your side, looking over your shoulder.” He twirled a perfect, kinky coil of hair through his fingers. Do you think you can do that for me, mon coeur? "
I swallowed hard with nervousness and nodded. “Ok.”
I swung my legs onto the chaise and posed with my backside toward Porter. most of which hung off of the chaise. My curls drooped across my shoulders and as they did, created a cool wave of air. My belly protruded to the side as I cradled it with my arm.
“Perfect, baby,” said Porter as he peered from behind the easel. “You look gorgeous, Ari.”
This might have been the sexiest thing we’d ever done. And we’d done a lot of pretty sexy things. Porter worked in relative quiet, only giving the occasional direction or admonishment to be to “hold still” or “not fidget”.
“You know you can just take a photo of me like this with your phone and you can paint it from that?”
“Again, that would be cheating, Ari. And I don’t cheat”, Porter said calmly.
I closed my eyes and zoned out to the music. The playlist, no doubt curated by Porter, was now playing Janet Jackson’s “Anytime, Any Place”. I was instantly grateful that my mother had resigned to not pop over anymore. Last time, she saw my ass in the air after an interrupted coitus. God knows what she would think if she saw me splayed butt-naked across a Z Gallerie chaise.
Porter’s brow knit with concentration. “Have you heard of Regnault?”
I furrowed my brow, thinking back to the only art class I ever took in college. “I think so. Maybe.”
“He painted a lot of nudes of African women. Like...a lot. He took a trip to Africa and I guess it blew his mind. His view was definitely one of the colonizer but the color and shadows were beautiful. Just like you right now.”
I felt a sensation of pleasure down my spine that went all the way to my toes. I curled them a bit, careful not to disturb my composition. I could hear Porter dipping paint brushes into water to clean off color and then the slight stroke of his brush against the canvas. I wanted to see right away. The anticipation was killing me.
I looked over at the clock on the wall. So far, an hour had passed. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t even have to pee…yet. I am sure baby boy will make an announcement on my bladder at any minute.
“So, are you done?” I asked. “Because I think your son and I may need a bathroom break.”
“Just about…putting the finishing touches on this one part”, said Porter, who sounded like he was concentrating. I sighed, trying to shake off the aching that was creeping up in my 40-year-old bones. How on earth did people sit for portraits back in the day?
“Ok. I think I’m done. For now. You relax”, Porter said softly. I stretched out on the chaise, my arms and legs tired from holding one position for so long. I approached the canvas. The candles were now melted down, and only a few were flickering. Porter was shirtless, just in his jeans and barefoot. He had paint on his hands and a brush between his teeth.
“Fair warning. This is how I see you. How you make me feel. I just want to warn you”.
I rolled my eyes. “Porter, I am sure it’s not that bad. Unless it’s stick figures”.
Porter laughed, nervously. “It’s not. Thankfully”.
I moved around and stood behind Porter, who was staring at the canvas. I put my hand over my mouth. Tears formed in my eyes and a thick, warm lump would not move from my throat. I put my hand on his bare shoulder, the words not coming to me right away.
“What is it?” said Porter, turning to face me. His eyes were growing large with concern. “Is it that bad?”
I stared in shock. There I was. On a canvas. Every single inch of me captured in acrylic, even down to the random strand of hair that didn’t quite dry uniformly. The color of my skin was bronze and indeed glowing. Porter even captured my newly formed stretch marks over my stomach. I was speechless.
“Porter, this is just beautiful. I can’t believe that's me”, I sputtered out after a while.
“It’s you”, said Porter. “A work of art”.
He swung his legs around and put his hands on my hips, lowering me to his lap. He pushed my still damp hair out of my face. He kissed me, drawing all of his breath into me. I inhaled him, kissing his lips with a delicate softness. I straddled him and kissed him deeper until I couldn’t breathe.
“My Ari.”, Porter said softly between kisses. I felt his hardness between us. His jeans rubbed roughly against the folds of my wet pussy, dampness pooling on the dark denim .
“Porter”, I whispered, looking into his eyes.
Porter buried his head into my cleavage, licking slowly between the delicate folds of my breast. He lifted me, walking around the easel and placed me back on the chaise.
“Thank you for allowing me to paint you”.
Porter parted my legs and dove between, lapping at my clit and sucking me until I quivered. Pregnancy made orgasms come quicker than usual. Porter lifted me, supporting me as I got on my knees, and he positioned himself behind me. As soon as he entered me, my head dropped as I relished in the way his dick stretched me. These days, we can't be as wild and free as we used to be when we made love. Given the leaps and bounds we’d gone through to get pregnant, we were always a little cautious. I was older, plus size, and had many challenges during this pregnancy, but somehow, Porter had found the sweet spot between slow, deep strokes and forceful, needy ones that made me moan and savor every minute being with him. I felt his fingers pull my head back as he entered me repeatedly.
“After this baby comes, I’m going to put another one in you. Because the way your pussy feels right now, shit, Ari….” Porter said, nearly breathless between strokes. All I could do was moan in agreement.
His fingers moved from my hair to my ass, gripping me until I moaned, my head falling into the pillow on the chaise. I felt the crest of another orgasm coming just as quickly as the other one had come.
“Porter, I’m about to come,”
“Come for me, Ari. I’m close, so close.”
And with that, I came, gripping the edge of the chaise for support. Soon after, Porter’s grunts and spasms signaled he too had come. His head rested on my shoulder as he kissed me, not wanting to pull out.
“Babe, if you aren’t careful, we’re going to make me go into labor.”
“I am being careful.” I could feel Porter smiling against my shoulder.
Porter moved, and I leaned back against the chaise. “Is that what you call poking your son in the head with that one-eyed monster?”
Porter frowned, rolling his eyes. “You know I hate when you say that. I’m not trying to traumatize Trey.”
I tried to fold my arms, but my belly was in the way. “Uh, I thought we hadn’t settled on Porter Harrison III?”
Porter smiled. “I’m just trying it on for now. Seeing if it fits.”
I smiled, pulling Porter close to me. “You know what else fits?”
Porter bit his lip. “No? What’s that?”
“Us.”
I leaned up, kissing him until we surrendered to each other over and over again…until the candles burned out.
Until next month,