A Glimpse Into My TWISTED Upcoming Releases (Free & Official)

BLOOD, LOVE & LUST: The Evil That Men Do (Chapter 1)

The soft voice and music of Kem Kemistry gently serenaded the room, each note and soft piano key hand in hand with surrounding utter silence. The room's overhanging chandelier's lights were turned down to near darkness. Centered on the long expensive mahogany table in the middle of the room were two candles, their tiny golden flames swayed permanently to the left by the soft whirring breeze of the suburban home's air conditioning.

 Cloaked in what was meant to be a romantic atmosphere made for two, Jada sat at the head of the dining room table alone, her stocking laced legs crossed, her body laced in a tight fitting shoulder strapless evening dress she'd bought just for tonight. Behind her, the drapes lacing the floor to ceiling windows were open revealing the home's large in-ground pool underneath the night sky. Somberly she poked at her dinner with a fork, unaware that she'd been doing it for hours, her jaws clenched and her stare of immense disappointment rarely blinking. Just like the mouthwatering aroma the now nearly ice cold lobster and shrimp had given off fresh out of the oven, Jada's appetite had faded away a long time ago. All she had the taste for right now were glass after glass of red wine from the bottle beside her. She seemed to be oblivious to anything else around her.

Tonight was the night before his big night and all Jada wanted to do was spend it in his arms showing him that he was appreciated, and that even if a day came that he'd lost his success, she'd still eternally be his number one fan. She'd bought a dress for the evening, lingerie for the night, and a Rolex watch as a gift she'd planned on slipping on his wrist sometime during the special dinner she'd spent hours preparing. In her mind and heart she envisioned a night of happiness and passion. She didn't know why. Maybe since tonight was the night before his big night, she thought things could be different. Maybe it was that long lost inner child in her still believing in magic. She had no idea, especially since he hadn't promised or guaranteed he'd be home tonight when she told him she had something special planned for him. He merely grunted a halfhearted "I'll be here" with no sincerity at all and headed out the door.

Jada knew it was a long shot. She understood that the warm sentimental place inside of him that used to inspire him to make love to her on a bed of rose petals during anniversaries had frozen over a long time ago. But she put the night together anyway, hoping that if even for just one night, he could be the man he used to be. For that slim possibility, she was willing to take a chance. She was willing to set the stage for a beautiful night and wait even though her soul told her she was waiting for someone who had vanished long before he'd walked out the front door this morning.

From the second Jada placed a lighter to the candles, one hour became two, and two became several. No phone call. No keys at the front door. As usual, hope for what used to be became disappointment for what is. Jada had waited for never. And just like always, the pain and disappointment seemed just as fresh as it did when he first began to show her that she was no longer the most special person in his life. Eventually, she finally slipped off her heels, blew out the candles, and slowly headed up the stairs to bed.

The sun would be rising soon.

***

     Nine year old Kenyatta's mother closed her eyes and slowly placed her hands at her sides letting her negligee fall to the dirt covered basement floor to reveal a slim but curvaceous cinnamon complexioned body that now trembled in fear. Kenyatta, wearing only underwear and a T-shirt, closed his eyes tightly; not of shame but of the sympathy he felt for his mother's humiliation. His own thin adolescent body shook with anger underneath the heavy forearm of the gunman posted behind him holding their flesh close to each other like Siamese twins.