Writing Tea
Happy May, ya’ll!
I must confess, I have struggled to write since my debut. After months of promoting my debut, including podcast interviews, social media engagement, etc, I am burnt out. Trying to write something has been hard as hell. I don’t know which way to turn. Should I work on a follow up? Something more high concept? Something that mixes genres? I do not know. So for now, I am trying a little of all of that, but not until I do an ample amount of self care, which includes giving myself grace and pacing myself. Love to my Inclusive Romance Project family who have talked me through my wild ideas and off a cliff. They’ve given me the space to vent and stuff.
Also to recap the last month, I had an event at The Vibrary with author Robyn Lucas (who is also my sorority sister) where I got to meet a majority of my Wordmaker sisters who are local and a few who flew in. That nourished my soul tremendously.
Shout out to my friend Sherita who basically planned this from Kenya as a way to support my debut.
Speaking of which, the debut is doing well, getting steady reviews and engagement. The Apple Books “Writer to Watch” post was crazy. I couldn’t believe that at all. But respect from my peers and enjoyment from readers….That is all I can ask for.
Podcast Tea
The podcast is about to wrap up for season 4 in June. I have a few amazing guests lined up, such as Melanie Ting, Darby Baham, and Danielle Jackson to name a few. It has been a pleasant season, but doing it without my podcast partner has felt really odd. Yaki will be back next season on our new, modified schedule (biweekly, so two pods a month). I am also out of the reviewer space, concentrating on my own content and interviews. So, we are looking for a third to join this duo.
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
Mother’s Day is upon us, and the lessons my mother imparted to me still live on.
Betrayed by someone on a deeply, personal level a couple of months ago, I am still reeling from the effects of that because it was a type of hurt, I definitely wasn’t expecting. The two of us weren’t close friends, but bonded over a variety of things. For them to stab me in the heart with what they did as totally crazy and blindsided me. But it reminded me of things my mother told me over the years:
Acquaintances are not friends.
Everyone DOESN’T deserves a front-row seat to your life
And finally….
When the devil brings you some hurt, God will heal you two fold.
Shortly after that betrayal, I got news about the Apple debut article which brought me an extra amount of followers and readers. For that, I was grateful.
Tati is Reading
Because I haven’t been writing as much, I have been reading. Your girl has been reading some dark stuff lately. I blame Chencia Higgins and her Damon the Demon (lol). Anyway, a few of my TikTok followers were raving over these books so I checked them out. As always with dark romance, check the trigger warnings.
That Sik Luv by Jescie Hall
Debt by Nina Jones
I also got my hand on two books I was so excited to get.
The next one in Mimi Grace’s Lovestruck series….Take a Hike
And Kenya Goree Bell’s Easy Like Sunday Morning. Another dark romance (lol). Available in KU May 13.
I also got a ton of things on Netgalley but I may get to those later rather than sooner because I do have to write. And writing this summer I shall do. But enjoy these recommendations!
NEWSLETTER EXCLUSIVE: A “Build Up” Bonus Chapter (Part 1)
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 1 of the newsletter exclusive bonus chapter from The Build Up. Enjoy.
*******
Ari
I sat with my swollen feet elevated as I watch Porter from the sofa. He was in our kitchen, totally naked, and making me one of his famous egg white omelets. I’d told him time and time again that cooking naked was dangerous. But he’d always retort, with a laugh, “Woman, I live for danger”. I licked my lips, a little hungry for both a taste of Porter and that omelet. Just when I was about to saunter over and have my way with my husband, I felt a sharp kick in the belly from our kid, who quickly reminded me that having an appetite for sex was the reason I was in this predicament.
“Honey, your child is a little fussy over here.”, I groaned. “I think you need to hurry with breakfast.”
Porter shook his head. “Tell the bean that the perfect omelet takes time. Daddy’s gonna feed him. Not to mention, I had to forage through the fridge to find veggies that weren’t spoiled. When was the last time we grocery shopped, Ari?”
“I can’t remember. At least there’s bacon, right?”
Porter laughed. “Thank God for swine.”
James-Harrison Designs was busy as ever, and I hadn’t had time to think about grocery shopping. I was nearing my third trimester, and I wanted to make sure everything was well with our existing clients before I went on maternity leave. We’d just secured the contract to design the newest location of one of Atlanta’s hottest restaurants. Porter was getting ready for an exhibit of his newest pieces, inspired by his love of jazz. And if that wasn’t enough, I was nesting like crazy, getting the nursery together for our newest Harrison. After all these years, it still amazed me that this was our life. And now, we’d be bringing in a new life into this world.
Porter sauntered over with a tray of food for me. Besides the bacon, he salvaged some onions, mushroom and spinach for the omelet.. There was also half an avocado, which Porter spread on toast and drizzled with olive oil and red pepper flakes. He’d made magic out of potentially moldy provisions.
I inhaled the aromas and smiled. “You spoil me. But where is your food? Aren’t you going to join me?”
Porter gestured to his naked body. “Uh, I need to grab some shorts. I don’t need you fussing at me about sitting on the couch eating naked.”
I bit my lip, my eyes trailing down to this thick, heavy dick. “Do you have to? I promise I won’t be mad.” Pregnancy also had a generous side effect- extreme horniness. It was something neither one of his minded. I was always wet. He was always ready. Once we got out of the danger zone of the first trimester, Porter was more than happy to fuck me whenever and wherever the mood struck us. And the mood was striking me right now.
With a laugh, Porter kissed my forehead as he made his way to the laundry room. “Damn, baby. You just got some this morning. Let a brother rest up.”
“Fine. I’ll wait until after I smash this breakfast. Then I’ll let you smash.” I took a sip of the decaf coffee, missing the taste of my usual espresso. I frowned. “I hate this crap. I might as well drink dirty dish water!” I yelled in Porter’s direction.
“You’ll live,” laughed Porter, coming out of the laundry room shirtless and in jeans. “Just a few more weeks and you can drink all the espresso you want. You can mainline it for all I care.”
I picked up the bacon, perfectly crispy and salty. I moaned. “Hmmm… bacon makes up for it all, though.”
Porter joined me on the coach with his breakfast. “I feel like you’re using me for my ability to cook you breakfast.”
“Uh, not true. I’m using you for sex.”
Porter coughed, then laughed. “Damn, after nearly four years together, I was thinking you might actually love me.”
I put my fork down, turning toward Porter. I ran my fingers through his hair, the soft curls so much longer, grayer, and wilder these days. He was still as handsome as ever. “I love you with all of me.”
Porter turned his head, closing his eyes to kiss the inside of my wrist. “I love you too, Ari. Now, eat your breakfast, otherwise you won’t get the surprise I have planned.”
I raised a brow. “What surprise?”
Porter stuffed his mouth full of eggs, shaking his head. “If I told you, baby, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”
After breakfast, a fully dressed Porter leaned over, grabbed the ties of my robe, pulling me closer to him. He kissed my jawline and my neck. My muscles in my pelvis tightened. He moved his hands down my hips and gripped my ass. I wanted him to pick me up and throw me on top of the kitchen island and eat me for breakfast.
“Is this the surprise?” I purred, hoping his hands would move to my aching center.
“Why don’t you go take a hot shower?” he whispered. “Put on something sexy for me.”
I raised a brow. “And then what?” My nipples were getting hard at the thought of us doing a little after-breakfast horizontal mambo.
“You’ll see”, said Porter. He smiled and a faint dimple appeared in his left cheek. I moved a finger over it and pulled him in for a kiss.
“Fine. I trust you.”
“Good, I’ll be back”. Porter declared, as he stood, heading toward the door.
I frowned. “Hold on! I thought we…”
Porter laughed. “God, being pregnant makes you horny as hell.”
I wasn’t amused.
Porter winked. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, my horny princess. Trust me.” With that, he kissed my forehead and grabbed his keys off the hook near the door.
I went into our master bath, deciding to take a lengthy shower, which included washing my hair and deep conditioning it. I scrunched it with a towel, then applied ample leave in conditioner, allowing my natural curls to air dry. I threw on a slinky slip dress over my round belly, staring at myself in the mirror. My body had changed, expanded in ways I didn’t think was possible. I was round and supple, with dark nipples that were visible through the thinnest of fabrics. I had more stretch marks now than ever before. Some days, I felt like Miss Sophia marching down the road. But most days, it amazed me I was carrying this little miracle. It was a new feeling, and I cherished it.
“Well, son, what shall we watch?” I asked as I rubbed my belly, finally making my way back to the couch. As I was flipping through the channels, dozing off, the front door open. Porter’s arms were full of bags, including something that smelled like tacos and while others were emblazoned with the logo of an art supply company.
“Tacos as material for still-life doesn’t seem like your speed.” I said as I leaned back on the sofa to get a better look.
Porter paused between breaths as he lugged in more bags. “Patience, woman.” He put down the bags next to the side table. “The tacos are for us to eat. I figured you’d be hungry by now.”. He sat the tacos on the coffee table and headed to the kitchen to grab a beer for him and a fruit juice for me.
I put my hand over my heart. “You know me so well! You know me and your son are immediately hungry after breakfast.”
Porter’s infectious laugh rumbled from the kitchen. “Anything makes you hungry these days. And don’t bring my son into this.”
I rolled my eyes as I yelled back. “It’s totally his fault. Little greedy joker”. With that, I felt a swift kick in my side. I guess he didn’t like that.
Porter came back with a beer, fruit juice, and two coasters, sitting them on the coffee table. He soothed his curls down with his hand. I looked at him the entire time, admiring the profile of the man that he is now.
“What?” he said, turning to look at me as he reached for a carne asada taco.
“I’m just happy” I said. I watched as Porter’s smile spread across his face. It radiated like an ultra light beam across his face.
“I’m glad you’re happy,” he said. “You’re my happiness.”
I leaned in, taking a fish taco. I took a bite, chewing slower than usual. Porter put a hand on my knee.
“I know that look, Ari. What is it?” he asked.
I swallowed my bite and took a swig of juice. The shock of cold from the juice hit my chest without warning. It was uncomfortably forcing me to think about what I was about to say next.
“I didn’t think three years ago that we’d be here. A thriving business. A home. A baby on the way. ”
“Oh, so you just wanted to hit and quit?” asked Porter.
I laughed. “You joke, but you know it’s true. Maybe I thought I could hit and quit. But you made me believe that I could have it all. You made me think love was worth fighting for.”
Porter took a sip of his beer, licking his lips. “Well, anything worth having is worth fighting for. Like I told you, you were my destiny.”
I smiled, my chest broadening with every word. “I’m super hormonal, so please don’t make me cry. Now, what’s the surprise?”
Porter laughed. “Aren’t you eager? Let’s eat. Chill and watch a little TV. And then I’ll set up the surprise.”
Stay Tuned for Part 2 in June’s Newsletter
Until next month,