Monday Musings: I’m Black…So What?

Since it’s still Black History Month, I was inspired to write today thinking back to what I said last week.

Being Black is only a small part of who I am.

I’m a woman.

I’m a Black woman.

I’m a Black woman of South American heritage.

I’m a Black woman of South American heritage in her forties. I’m a professional Black woman of South American heritage in her forties.

I’m a professional Black woman of South American heritage in her forties who writes and aspires to publish the kind of stories that I think are beautiful too

I’m all of the above and according to Chaka Khan, I’m every woman.

Naturally, some of my fiction writing is infused with my experiences as an individual who is all of the above and so much more.

But my writing is also not limited to the above.

As a storyteller, I write to themes anyone should be able to relate and though some of my main characters may not always resemble the ones that are still considered “more mainstream”, themes of love, fear, rejection and hate are universal.

My goal is and will always be about being “inclusive”.

If along the journey some readers don’t appreciate when I blog about issues of representation, diversity, and inclusion, I can’t do anything about it.

I’m just going to keep on walking and doing what I do.

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“Chocolate High” – Fiction Friday

tiffany-n-light

 Photo credit: CEBImagery.com / Foter / CC BY-NC 

“Close your eyes and open your mouth…”

I did as I was told. I felt the warm gooeyness coat my lips, stick to the roof of my mouth and glide onto my tongue. My mouth widened to take it all in and I clasped my lips around it, wanting to savor it a little longer. Then I swallowed.

“It’s good, isn’t it?”

Yes, it was good. And yes, I definitely wanted more. I simply moaned with pleasure.

“Now, tell me it’s the best you’ve ever had.”

His tone dared me to say otherwise. I savored what was left in my mouth and then licked the residue from my lips. I opened my eyes and looked at him.

“Come on, say it.”

I giggled when I saw the serious look on his handsome face. I wasn’t a liar and I wasn’t about to start now.

“I’ll admit that it is very good. But I’ve had better. Sorry.”

“And here I am thinking that I would blow your mind.”

Disappointed, Alejandro placed the fork back onto the dessert plate. I immediately picked it up, dug into the chocolate molten lava cake and brought it to his lips.

“Butter, eggs, sugar, chocolate, fresh raspberries, powdered sugar…I used to be an expert at making these when I was a teenager. This is almost as good as what I used to make. Open your mouth.”

“Shush, don’t let the chef hear you.”

A smile spread across his face before he opened his mouth to receive the fork. We laughed and took turns feeding each other until the cake was a memory and we were suffering from a chocolate high. When I noticed chocolate on the corner of his mouth, I smudged it away with my thumb. Alejandro took hold of it and slowly slide it across his sticky lips. Before I knew it, my thumb was in his mouth and he was sucking the chocolate from it.

His eyes said it all, making me wonder just how sticky things could get in the middle of the empty restaurant.

I hope that you enjoyed this little story! 🙂

©2016 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved. Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST.

 


 

 

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Monday Musings: Doing It

When I started revamping this blog, I had planned to stick to topics to which all readers could relate. I thought I could write posts that could please anyone and everyone who stumbled across this space.

Nothing too controversial.

Maybe a little more on the plain-side.

Safe.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that my “plan” was based on fear.

Fear of readers losing interest, fear that some readers may not relate to what fuels my stories and the types of topics I think are important to speak to within my writing.

So…no, I’m not going to limit myself to posts that don’t resonate with me just to keep random readers or even dedicated reader-followers.

I’m not going to let fear dictate the kind of writer I desire to be.

My updated About page speaks to who I am so if I lose readers along the way, oh well.

Like the lyrics of that old song, “ya can’t please everyone, so ya got to please yourself”.

And that’s exactly what I’m going to do…

A Little Valentine’s Fiction

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Since this excerpt is based on Valentine’s Day, I thought that I would share it with you. If you like it, let me know.

M xoxo

***

I was in the middle of a perfect spin when someone turned the volume down on the song I was choreographing to.

What the fuck?!

Before I knew it, two of the girls were racing towards me. A tight knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I slid down the pole. Everyone knew better than to interrupt me while I was creating new sets so whatever it was had to be a important or an emergency.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” I grabbed my towel from the floor and dabbed the sweat away from my neck. When smiles spread across both of their faces, my blood began to boil. Their smiles meant that there was no emergency and both of their heads were going roll.

“Ella, that guy from the other night is out front asking for you,” Li Na giggled like a schoolgirl.

With or without make-up, Li Na could pass for a teenager though she was in her early-twenties. It had become clear that her jailbait looks were what had made her very popular with the freakier patrons at the club. Li Na was a smart girl and knew exactly how to work her looks to her advantage to get more tips.

“Who are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance but I knew who she meant.

“Your boyfriend,” Saanvi eagerly clarified, not able to contain her excitement. Saanvi was the total opposite to Li Na and was clueless about men and the business. Sheltered and freshly on her own after moving out from extremely controlling parents, there was no way I would allow her to get near the stage. Until she mastered some everyday life skills, I had found part-time work for her helping with the club’s social media side.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I walked away to retrieve my bottle of water. They followed me like two hungry puppies. They were both still young enough to think that working a pole and having a real boyfriend all at the same time was possible.

“Okay, well maybe he wants to be.” Saanvi’s eyes twinkled bright and hopeful. “It is Valentine’s Day you know.”

Whatever.

“Well, Happy fucking Valentine’s Day,” I sneered. “Tell him that I’m busy. You know that I don’t like being disturbed when I’m …”

The clicking of hard shoes against the studio floor made us all turn around to observe Jake sauntering over to where we stood. Li Na and Saanvi’s deep intakes of breath synchronized and rebounded hard against the studio walls. Holding a single red rose and now standing inches away from us, Jake was beyond looking like a tasty snack. He was a delicious five course meal and was making me hungry. I’m sure that I wasn’t the only one squeezing my thighs together uncontrollably at the sight of him.

“So…I can’t be your Valentine today?” Jake’s voice was deep and raspy. He grinned and extended the rose to me. His eyes locked with mine for such a long moment that I didn’t realize that Li Na and Saanvi had vanished into thin air.

Don’t let him rattle you.

“No.” I managed to keep my aloofness with a smile and ignored his outstretched hand. “You can’t be my Valentine.”

“And why not?” Jake took a step closer and held the rose up between us. The scent of the rose and his cologne heightened my senses and all I was thinking about was wrapping my legs around his waist.

Down girl.

“You’re missing eleven roses for this to be a traditional Valentine’s bouquet…” I purposely looked the rose and turned up my nose.

“I have no problem running back and buying more. But something tells me that you’re not the typical woman who would be impressed by a full dozen.”

It was my turn to close the gap between us a little more. We were so close that I could feel his warm breath on my forehead.

“You’re right. I’m far from being a typical woman. Even if you bought me the entire flower shop, it wouldn’t matter because I don’t believe in love or anything related to Valentine’s Day.” My harsh words made him frown in the cutest way.

“You don’t believe in love?” Jake studied my face and grinned down at me.

“To believe in love, I would have to have a heart. And I don’t have a heart.”

I really wanted to tell him that if a man was not in a position to finance my life or fuck me senseless whenever I wanted with no strings attached, I had no use for them. But of course I didn’t let those words leave my mouth. Jake didn’t need to know about the hard and fast rules I had been living by for most of my adult life.

I wasn’t about to bend or break my life rules for Jake, no matter how tempting and normal he presented himself to be.

Jake was all strings. Hot, sticky and dangerous strings.

“You have a heart. I’ve seen it more than once sweetheart. And I saw it clearly the other night too.”

My entire body tensed up at the memory of the other night and my face flushed.

“The other night had nothing to do with “heart”. It had everything to do with me wanting to fuck you and you weren’t interested.” I felt myself getting pissed all over again at how he had turned me down, leaving me hot, bothered and unsatisfied. “I mean, do you even like women? A typical straight guy would never have turned me down.”

And it was the truth. Never in my adult life had I been refused by any man.

Never.

Jake gave me a long hard stare that froze my breath. Probably sensing that I would back away, he slid his hand around my waist and pulled me in so that my chest was pressed against what felt like a six pack of hard abs.

Damn.

“I assure you that I’m straight Ella. I’m just not your typical guy, just like you aren’t a typical woman. Sometimes slow is a better way of getting to know each other…”

“But most times, fast and furious is much more fun,” I countered and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

“Do you purposely try to shock people or are you always this…unfiltered?”

“Being unfiltered has gotten me into some trouble but I can handle it. Does it scare you?” I was the one grinning now.

“It actually does but in a good way,” Jake admitted, running his hand through his dark curly hair before returning it to my waist. “But I also think that it’s your way of keeping your guard up against getting hurt.”

“No it’s not. What do you even really know about me?” I failed miserably at reigning in my defensive tone.

“I know enough about you to want to know more. How about I take you to lunch and you can let me be your Un-Valentine today?” Jake lifted the rose and brushed it gently across my cheek until I finally accepted it.

When I shook my head at his persistence, Jake kissed my forehead and I was glad that he couldn’t see the hint of a smile on my face.

Something about Jake had the potential to ruin the uncomplicated lifestyle I had spent years creating for myself.

And if I wasn’t very careful, I’d let him.

(This scene will likely be included in Ella’s future story.)

©2019 Marquessa Matthews. All Rights Reserved. Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST.

12 Inches Is More Than Enough

38 centimeters and still counting but at least we knew it was coming.

School and daycare cancellations were announced since yesterday. Workplaces strongly suggested that people work from home if possible. Radio stations warned listeners to stay in.

And all of this before snow could even hit the ground.

Remember the snow storm days from long ago when we waited for the school bus to arrive and when it didn’t, you simply had to stay home? Then your parents were miffed because one of them would have to call in sick to stay home with you? We all had to roll with the punches.

Today, the roads are empty and if you have to get somewhere fast, good luck with that. With the thick layer of ice still hidden under all that snow, it is treacherous to say the least.

Being a planner, I prepared for it – extra groceries bought and delivered to the older folks in my family, cars and snowblower topped with gas, house kept at a toastier temperature just in case there is a another power failure…

The only thing that would make this snow day almost perfect would be a tasty bowl of Pho for lunch. But as you can see from the photo above, any kind of delivery service will be impossible until the snowblower is put to use.

But I don’t mind being snowed in. It sounds weird but there is something comforting about going about my day with the snow gently falling outside and listening to “snow stories” from listeners on the radio.

How is your day going? And are you snowed in too today?

Bisous,

M xoxo

Monday Musings: When Marie Kondo’ed Peter

Am I the only one in the entire world who is unimpressed by Marie Kondo?

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against Marie. I’m just old enough to remember Peter Walsh who preached the same approach back in the late 2000s during “The Oprah Winfrey” segments.

Then again, everything old is new again, isn’t it?

Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended.

I was into the decluttering arena long before I knew anything about Peter though.

Even as a kid, I needed for the environment around me to be decluttered and organized otherwise I couldn’t concentrate and write. To this day, keeping my space as feng shui/clutter-free possible helps tremendously when it comes to keeping my creative energy. The ideas are free to flow, the space is energized and everything is just zen.

These days,  I’m more into dostadning, a Swedish hybrid of the words for death and cleaning. It sounds totally morbid but it encompasses the same Marie/Peter methods with an added component – getting rid of excess to lessen the burden on your loved ones after you’re gone.

When I look at my belongings with dostadning in mind, I’m ruthless.

But I will thank Marie for one thing. Because of this KonMari craze, the thrift stores are OVERFLOWING with great stuff for cheap that “spark joy” and that “make my heart sing”.

Just look at this almost brand new book I bought for $1.25 that I had planned to buy at regular price:

Don’t believe me about the thrift stores? I dare you to visit your local one. Just be sure to declutter first! 🙂

M  xoxo

“Good Dick Is Hard To Find” – Fiction Friday

Photo credit: aliciacody via Foter.com / CC BY-NC-ND

Richard is standing behind me and I’m sitting deathly still waiting for him to react. I close my eyes as he leans in and fills my ear with his hot breath.

“No other man could ever do you the way that I do.”

I say nothing.

“How could you do it? Of all the men in this city, you turned to him? If you were unhappy, you should have talked to me!” He slides his hands along my shoulder blades and he pauses dramatically when he reaches the base of my neck. Hopefully, he won’t strangle me.

His voice is barely audible to the people sitting around us. His tone always sends tingles up my spine and makes my skin prickle in a sick yet satisfying way.

“It had nothing to do with not being happy! I just needed…”

“It kills me to know that you let him touch you! You let his hands play with what is rightfully mine. I’m not even sure if I want you back.”

His hands fall away from my neck, slides back down my shoulders and my face flushes with shame.

“I’m sorry. But…but you weren’t around to give me what I needed.”

“So that’s the way you’re going to play this off? You’re blaming me? I was only gone for one week!”

“I know, I’m sorry but…”

“All I keep seeing is his hands running through your hair and…”

Disgust chokes Richard’s words and then there we are, at a quiet standstill.

I can’t lose him, I refuse to lose him. I’ve waited far too long to have a man like this to lose him now. I need to make “us” right. Just being sorry isn’t going to cut it.

That’s when it hits me – I know what I have to do. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Richard, I’ll make it up to you.”

“How?”

“Uh…You know that thing you’ve always fantasized doing to me? Well, I’ll let you do it. I’ll let you have your way.”

I keep my eyes shut while I wait for his reaction. A quiet moment passes and once again, his hands find their way back to my shoulders. He squeezes them with anticipation and suddenly his lips are almost pressed against my ear again.

“Really? You’re that sorry?”

I nod.

“I’ll let you do anything you want to me. But one time and one time only. But you can never bring up what I did again and you can never ever kick me to the curb. Agreed?”

“Agreed!”

As I feel the whoosh of the plastic smock sweep across my body to imprison me, I finally raise my eyes and look at his reflection in the mirror facing us. A smile spreads wide across his face as he runs all ten fingers through the hair that I have never let him cut beyond its current shoulder length.

As his hands continue to play, his eyes glaze over as if he is literally turned on by fondling it. I am slightly repulsed at his excitement but feel a little empowered by the hold I seem to have over him in this tiny moment. Like a mad man, Richard’s eyes dart across the array of scissors and on the work space in front me.

“Hmmm…I’ve more than fantasized about giving you a sexy bob cut, hiding the grey and turning you into a fiery hot red-head with a little blond streak. It’s time you get off the grey line and I’ll guarantee that the men will fall in line in no time at all during this holiday season.”

Richard turns to bark orders at one of the many young wanna-be-famous-too assistants to prep me.

“I’m going to do you sooo right that you won’t be able to walk out of this salon!”

I stifle a laugh at how everything Richard says has sexual undertones but is always related to hair.

Like all of the other women submissively waiting their turn with “Good Dick”, the nickname clients called him behind his back, I have no intention of upsetting the apple cart. Never again would I dare have my hair touched by his arch rival across town.

If keeping myself in Richard’s good graces and on the salon’s exclusive client list means giving him my head, I’m prepared to swallow that bitter pill and pay the price of my betrayal because Richard’s hands are pure magic.

And in this city, another Good Dick is hard to find.

I hope that you enjoyed this. 

All Rights Reserved ©2017 Marquessa Matthews. Feel free to sign up for MAILING LIST .

 

 

 

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