Me, My Curves, and I {Interracial Romance} #Wattys2017

In Progress

Danny's POV

I'm now sitting on my laptop in my office room aka bedroom and I am on my Official Wattpad profile to post an upcoming surprise to my audience, especially Jaelyn- A new story that would get me out of the funk of Writer's block.

And I know she'll be the death of me,

at least we'll both be numb

And she'll always get the best of me,

the worst is yet to come

But at least we'll both be beautiful and stay forever young

This I know, (yeah) this know

My stereo is currently playing "Can't Feel My Face" by the Weeknd on the Adult Contemporary station as I'm sipping cherry juice to reduce stress of writer's block and stare at the blank text box on the screen of my Dell laptop. And I am watching the movie, Get On Up when James Brown performed "It's a Man's World" live performance. When I listen to the word 'woman,' a light-bulb lights up above my head and marks the main name of my poem.

'Woman.' I type on the header box of the story and sip on my cup of cherry juice. After swallowing the sweet pure liquid down my throat, my figures are positioning on the keyboard to start my first verse. My forefinger taps on my thumb rapidly as if I'm snapping fingers, even though I'm not. My eyes shut to concentrate in my mind without stress clouding over my original suggestions. Letting out an agitating exhale, I look at the blank text box on the screen and start typing my first verse.

But before I start typing, I gather a chest of recollection four days ago with Jaelyn as I transport four days previously.

Four Days Ago...

"Robert, please!" I beg as my writing agent and I run down the stairs.

"Damn it, Daniel!" Robert slams his brief case on the floor, causing some of the employees to stare at our confrontation and he turns his body to me with a scowl on his face. "You are in a writer's curse because of your promiscuous habits! Control that Johnson of yours and keep it restrained in your pants or you can kiss our partnership and your book writing career goodbye!" Robert snarls, picks up his brief case, and leaves the building.

I grab a fistful of my own hair when I mutter a curse in Italian. I have been writing ever since I was five years old and I'm letting it subside from me because of my addiction! Lord Jesus, please help me wash my sins away, so I can return writing novels.

"I really need some coffee." I mutter to myself when I spot the coffee machine beside me. Great! I walk to the coffee stand to make myself a cup of coffee and enjoy my drink. After taking the first gulp of coffee, I overhear someone sobbing in the restroom. An African American, who is in her early fifties exits the bathroom. I lean to the door to listen a quiet voice. Just as I'm about to knock, the door slams open to cause me to spill my cup of coffee on the floor and some on my suit.

"Ah, shit!" I curse. Can this day get any worse First, my writing agent Robert gives me an ultimatum between my author career or promiscuity and now, I have coffee spilled on my suit and on the floor!

"Oh, my goodness! Sir, I am so sorry!" An innocent voice apologizes with brown paper towels in her caramel hand. I raise my head to see the most aesthetic woman on Earth! She has long wavy jet black hair that stops to her mid-back, caramel skin tone, deep brown eyes, and she has a pear shaped bodice. A plus size woman. I have never seen a woman, who is so extremely beautiful being brought in front of me. Thank you, Lord! After sharing each other the admiration looks, we have a chance to know each other at Starbucks.