Imani Wisdom's brainchild -- Pink Noire Publications -- has been known for her unpredictable style of storytelling. Now its founder is expanding the "pink and black" brand to shine on prolific artists. From the inspirationalist, Danica Worthy to bestselling author, Stacy Deanne, Pink Noire understand these talented individuals know how to express their craft through words, song, dance, and stroke of a brush.

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Spa Me Out

It’s been a long day at work so I ready myself by laying out the towels on the table in my spa room. I light the candles, choose the fragrance of body oils, and fill the basket with fresh fruit. I sit the champagne on ice, dim the lights and turn on some soft Brazilian lounge music. Its five o’clock, time to shower, brush my hair back, put on my sexy royal blue silky sleek night top, clear four inch Armani high heel shoes, shimmer Mac make up, place a dab of night musk oil behind each ear and wallah, I am ready!

On time as usual. You can almost set your watch by him. Eight o’clock on the dot Armando pulls his Bentley into the garage. He is always amazed at the indigo pool and the beach house I live in because it sits parallel to the waters and the rocks surrounding it; giving it an elegant touch. I wonder what he thinks about when he walks out to the rocks and the sands of the beach. He puts both hands in his pockets and lets the wind blow through his cold black hair as he stares out into the deep blue waters.

I stand on the upper level terrace; staring out at him while the seagulls call out communication in unison. I cannot wait for him to walk towards the two dolphin decorated glass doors and come in to relax me. Three minutes pass and he finally makes it up to the house and rings the bell. I walk down the iron-cased stairs made from marble and pearl.

I approach the door with a glass of champagne in my hand and just before I open it, he stares into my eyes and I into his. I slowly push the command button to release the lock and he smiles as the doors slide open. I take a step back and hand him the glass of champagne. He takes the drink from my hand and smiles at me softly saying, “Hello La’Vienia, are you ready to relax?” I answered with my eyes never leaving his, “Yes, I’m ready.

From the excerpt

TyLeishia L. Douglass is a native of Baltimore Maryland and a voice of hope for this generation. Douglass is an author, online radio talk host, promoter, public speaker and published author. TyLeishia is on a mission to encourage and empower others. Her imprint is embedded in the hearts of her short story readers. One of her personal favorite mottos is, "Helping to make a difference one page at a time." TyLeishia earned publishing credits from "Student Life Magazine", was featured on LA Talk Live “Perspective’s Corner” with Rhona “Rho” Bennett and credits from the soul diva songstress and life coach and member of the group EnVogue (The Real Funky Diva’s). TyLeishia's poetry and comments are also featured on The Baltimore Times featured Douglass online as Indie Soul Entrepreneur of the Week which speaks of her writings and blogs as self-help tools which she shares worldwide. TyLeishia is poised to offer solace and confidence to motivate others in their personal struggles through the poignant story of the main character of her novel, "Jewels Declaring New Miracles." New books are underway and additional short stories by TyLeishia are available on, Kobo, Smashwords and Barnes & Noble’s. Douglass continue her education and aims to achieve and earn her AA Degree in Mass Production and Communications in hopes that her online blog radio talk show, “JOTU & GEMS” will take flight in a future worldwide televised broadcast which serves as a platform that supports all arts in and around communities.

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Little Black Book From Melodi

"Absolutely. Where do you want it?" she asked me, applying the cherry red lip-stick flawlessly to her full lips, puckering them. I presented the back of my hand to her.

She glanced at Sam, giggling. Nina grabbed my hand, pulling me toward her and planted a kiss on my right shoulder. As she released me, I looked down at my stamp, admiring the perfect shape of her lips.


Sam had already chosen her spot, rolling her head back and waiting. I watched as Nina place her red signature on Sam's neck. Her sensuous mouth lingered there, her tongue playing on Sam briefly before re-leasing her.

I grabbed Sam for balance, my body unsteady from the alcohol, and closely inspected her stamp. "On the front of your neck, freak?"

"Well, how would you see it if she kissed me on the lips?"

"Which ones?" I asked sarcastically.

Her eyes lit up. "Now that you asked…"

She turned away from me, headed back to Nina. I shook my head, grabbing her hand and pulled her past the velvet rope. After a few steps, we were mingling amongst the sexy couples in the V.I.P. lounge, many of them wearing Nina's cherry kisses—now a pink fluorescent color under the black lights.

I stared in awe at how many pairs of lips glowed in the darkness. Some on the nape's of necks, others on breasts while some sat curiously high on a thigh or two.

Sam came up behind me, her breath hot on my neck and handed me a small shot glass.

"Here, it's their signature, 'Fuck Me Crazy'. Try it with me." Looking at the red shot glass, I drank it quickly, squirming as it slid down hot, my throat on fire.


"I know, I told you! Fucks you crazy!" She laughed. "Go through the last door and down the stairs, the third little cubbyhole on the right is reserved for us—I'll meet you down there. I gotta pay this bar tab."

I watched as Nina placed her red signature on Sam's neck. Her sensuous mouth lingered there, her tongue playing on Sam briefly before releasing her.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, the lighting and mood were instantly recognizable. Mellow R&B. Scented candles and soft sensual moans…

Wait a minute. Third room on right? Second? Shit, I can't remember…

I tried to focus my blurry vision on the narrow corridor, with small rooms along both sides. This place was staged perfectly for sex and secrets. Dim lighting and beautiful red satin curtains served as the most colorful doors I had ever seen.

Ignoring my urge to run back up the stairs and curse Sam out for sending me down here drunk and confused, I gave in to my curiosity, following the sounds of feminine curses.

 Treading softly, I approached the second room on my right—the red curtains pulled to one side.
There are people in here already…This can't be it…can it?

Peeking inside the candlelit room, there was a beautiful mocha mistress, her slender frame perched on the edge of a red chaise lounge. She smiled at me—saying nothing before rolling her eyes up and cooing softly.

The dark chocolate man with her could only be half seen from behind as he settled on all fours wrapping her long legs around his neck.

I continued to watch as the licking and sucking began, her soft coos becoming louder—a panting, raspy staccato. She grabbed one of her breasts, squeezing her nipple and rocking her pelvis to the rhythm of his tongue, the candlelight dancing with them.

I was speechless, standing motionless in the doorway, fixated on this beautiful, passionate display of all that I had sacrificed at home—in exile, awaiting my wedding day….

Fuckin' Samantha! I can't believe she brought me down here!

As my nipples grew underneath my halter-top, the thin material did nothing to hide them. I shivered as I tried using my fingers, but my breasts were too sensitive to touch. My body was tingling now with erotic energy and I had no way to turn it off.

Walk away, before she sees you still standing here!

I couldn't. Hypnotized and hungry, my eyes remained locked on them, my legs stuck in place by imaginary quick sand.

The mystery woman opened her eyes, grinning as she found me still there watching. She never uttered a word as she invited me in, commanding me with just a simple whisk of her index finger.

Without hesitation, I stepped forward, disappearing behind the red satin and completely facing her—standing in the lion's den.

Moving with the grace of a dancer, she unwrapped herself from her lover and stood in front of me.
"Greg, get up. We have company."

He stood up, looking as fine from in front, as he did from behind, his beautiful hairless chest muscles bouncing the flickers of candlelight off of them. He was completely naked as well, his dick nudging my side as he stood next to his mistress.

"You're a beautiful woman," the mistress said to me. She glanced down at my three-carat diamond rock, which also bounced candlelight off of it. "You married?"

"No—not yet," I mumbled.

She stepped closer to me, quickly diverting her attention to Nina's lips. "V.I.P.?" she chirped, while Greg fingered my stamp, his eyes slowly outlining my slender curves.

His mistress stepped so close to me that our lips almost touched.

"So—you like to watch? Or are you expecting V.I.P. treatment?"

I'm just here with a friend... I opened my mouth, but the words never escaped.

She pressed her slender finger against my lips. "I know what you want." She placed her hand in between my thighs, sliding her fingers inside my panties. I inhaled deeply, trembling. Greg stepped up behind me, his dick poking me in my back, and quickly unfastened my bra, pulling the top over my head. He started to massage my breasts, kneading them between his fingers.

"Mmmmm….." I closed my eyes, defeated, giving in to him—to her.

My body had spoken...

Underestimated is the first word that comes to mind when I hear the name Melodi Roberts.

This author, editor, and creative genius stormed the literary scene with works: If You Don't Tell, and the "cherry-popping" tales, Untapped, just to name a few. Roberts unforgiving approach to express Black sensuality is a mere art-form -- you won't find blatant, glorified pornography in the confines of her work.

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TP Miller: All Hail to The Vampire Queen

Confession: I’ve never been a fan of any books pertaining to vampires!

Strange coming from a writer who writes about “the dead” or anything without or having a faint pulse –but vampires? Never.

Then comes along this novel titled, Out for Blood: The Chosen One Has Come, and it changed my mind. I was blown away with the vivid storyline and the unforgettable characters, gripping me from page one to the jaw dropping end. In fact, it had taken me one day to complete this fascinated and yet addictive literature.

Who was responsible of changing this stubborn mind? TP Miller, that’s who.

Miller made her way to the literary scene in 2012 and has already gained the respect and admiration by her peers and readers.

This Alabama native isn’t afraid to step out of her bounds either. She shows her versatility in other genres besides paranormal and proves just how of a much storyteller she is.

I’m truly excited of having TP in The Lounge this week. And because of this interview, she inspired me to stay true to myself as a writer and not ever stay in a box

Imani: Before we begin the interview, let me say how excited I am that you're in The Lounge. I've been a long-time fan of yours -- so, welcome. Now without further ado, tell the readers a little background of yourself -- who is TP Miller?

TP: Thank you! I've been a fan if yours as well. Thank you for having me. For the readers that don't know me, I'm T.P. Miller and I've been published since 2012. My first novel, Out for Blood and since I've released a short story titled A Woman Scorned. Personally, I'm happily married to my high school sweetheart and the mother of two amazing kids.

Did you know your debut novel, Out for Blood was the first book I read involving vampires and I loved it? So share with us a short description of the story and its main characters.

Out for Blood is the story of Nef, a woman that is searching for the killer of her family and possibly involved in kidnapping get little girl. All of the main characters are vampires and we meet her husband, best friend and the rest of her friends.

Where did you get the inspiration to write your book?

I never saw a paranormal book with an all AA cast. The character had been with me for a while and one day I decided that I wanted to get it out. I started formally writing this story in '08 and it's evolved more since.

If you were to have an interview with one of your characters, who would they be and why? And what would you say to them?

That's hard! I'd pick either Nef or my villain. These two were a BIG contrast. You have Nef who's so determined and doing everything she can to get justice while my villain is doing even possible to claim Nef as his own. I'd ask one, if the story came out the way they wanted it to and what would they have done differently.

I'm sure fans of this book, including myself, are wondering will there be a sequel?

Yep. It's in the final prep stages. I like to take my time and develop plots and subplots. I well say that the next book well touch inn Ram, Nef's husband, and his back story.

Now let's switch up things and talk about the paranormal genre. There are a vast pool of talented writers in this broad genre, but only an anemic amount of African American authors. What are your thoughts?

I think we aren't exposed to enough genres. I read a lot of everything growing up and I like to try to do the same.

You have other works, including erotica - which I do as well. But I've been told authors need to stay in one genre because of consistency for the reader. Do you agree or disagree with this opinion, and why?

I like to bounce around from genre to genre because I think it shows that you can be versatile. You can't stay stuck in a box. I'll always write paranormal fiction but at some point I'll write a romance novel but I'll bounce around back to paranormal.

While we're mentioning your other works, name each title and a brief description.

My main title is Out for Blood: The Chosen One Has Come and as I said it follows Nef on the story of finding out who killed her family. My next book was A Woman Scorned, a short erotic story about a woman that basically finds out that her boyfriend is cheating on her and what she does in a way to get back at him. Lastly, we have The Agency which I co-authored with KR Bankston. It's a full novel about two men in the ad agency business and how one major thing connects their lives and why they have so much hostility towards each other.

I like to bounce around from genre to genre because I think it shows that you can be versatile. You can't stay stuck in a box. I'll always write paranormal fiction but at some point I'll write a romance novel but I'll bounce around back to paranormal. 

What are we to expect from "TP Miller" in the future? Any upcoming projects?

Aside from the sequel to OFB, I'm in the process of working on another romance novel. It started as a short story and now I'm developing it so that it's a full length novel.

Where do you see your career in five years?

In five years,  I'd let to see Kemet Books with titles from all genres and different authors.  Also starting a literacy foundation of charity here in my hometown. 

We all have that special someone that helped shaped our craft. If this "special person(s)" were here right now, what would you say to them?

I think that I have one of those special people. I'd say the three biggest factors that really helped me was my husband who read everything and told me what he thought was great and what needed work. My kids keep me striving and last, I have to say that getting the chance to talk to one of my idols about the art drove me to create.

Finally, tell me in one word TP Miller's work?


Thank you for stopping by The Lounge. I had a great time. For those who are new to your work, tell them where they can purchase your titles, as well as finding you online?

I'm always on Facebook so you can definitely reach me there. Just type in my name. I also have a fan page and a group that you can get details about the publishing company that my husband and I have started. Just type in Kemet Books and Management.

I'm available on Kindle and Nook as far as books and I'm on most social media sites.

Twitter: @vampyrequeen14
Email: OR

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What We Love About Deidra Green...

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, especially when the only image you know of a person is through social media. And oftentimes we try to have a distinct image of the voice behind their profile picture -- and with Author and Editor, Deidra Green, I may have missed the mark.

And here’s why:

If you follow this highly sought after lecturer, blessed with respectable titles, you may have seen her collection of work on your timeline. Green is not shy when it comes to promoting her work. She pushes her books with no apologies. The countless hours in front of her computer, pounding rhythmically on her stylish nails only conveys the heart of her brand, which is after all - Reflected Gifts.

Deidra’s personal story is an inspiring one. But this author of over a dozen books does not want her legacy based solely from her heartaches. She has stories to write and characters to build for life in her pages.

But what impressed me about Deidra Green wasn’t her dedication to her craft, or the meticulous detail she puts into her stories, but the love she puts into her characters.

So, yes, I missed the mark of wanting to gel her picture with a phantom voice. It wasn’t necessary then as it is now. Because for every word she writes, every book she sells, and every character she brings to life, Deidra simply has one thing that many authors don’t – and that's heart. 

Imani: Finally! I have Deidra Green in The Pink Lounge -- welcome, ma'am! Of course I have to ask you this question I ask all of my guest: What makes Deidra the woman she is today?

Deidra: First let me say, thanks so much for having me Imani. I certainly appreciate it. With regard to your question, I think it would be easy to say that pain or loss or struggle made me the woman I am today. However, that would only provide a limited purview into who I really am. I am a culmination of the history of my people, the prayers of my grandparents and the dreams of my parents. I am a reflection of the strong, beautiful and resilient women around me. The woman I am today is the result of my pursuits, my dreams, my accomplishments and my falterings. I don’t say failings because I would have rather tried and faltered a thousand times than to never have tried at all.

Imani: Besides being a respected and talented author and editor, you are also a highly sought after lecturer, presenter, ghostwriter, and educator -- and if that is not impressive enough, you have more than a dozen books to your name. Where -- and more importantly, how -- do you have the time to write and still manage to write amazing work?

Deidra: I have a very hard time doing nothing… lol. It is hard for me to simply relax. I feel like time is a precious commodity and it ought not be wasted. I also don’t require a whole lot of sleep. Even though I have always had several things going on at once – working a full time job, having my own business(es), involved in the community, etc., I know that I became a much more focused individual after the loss of my younger sister. I think subconsciously I feel like I need to live and do enough for the both of us.

I am a reflection of the strong, beautiful and resilient women around me. The woman I am today is the result of my pursuits, my dreams, my accomplishments and my faltering. I don’t say failing because I would have rather tried and faltered a thousand times than to never have tried at all. - Deidra Green

Imani: You have an interesting and beautiful story about birthday a gift you have given to your brother one year. Would you tell us that story?

Deidra: It’s funny you should mention that because this experience is really how my writing career began. My brother and I have birth anniversaries that are one day apart. It was his birthday and I didn’t have a physical present for him. His wife takes very good care of him so there was no ‘thing’ I thought he might have wanted or needed. I contemplated writing something for him but still wasn’t committed to the idea. About 45 minutes before the birth celebration began, I called my sister in law and asked her would she print something for me if I faxed it to her. Mind you, at the time I raised the question, I still didn’t have a gift.

It was getting closer and closer to time to leave for the party but I still had nothing. Then, I thought about my brother and what he really means to me. I sat down on the corner of my bed with my laptop and wrote a poem, “A Sister’s Pride.” I wrote it swiftly with no review and forwarded it to be printed with the idea that I would give it to him at some point. What ended up happening was instead of my sister in law giving the poem to me, she handed it to my brother during gift opening. I was absolutely and completely mortified when he decided to read it aloud. I sunk down in my chair and practically covered my face with my hands from embarrassment as he began to read aloud. After a few moments, I heard my brother’s voice crack. I peeked through my fingers and saw that he was crying. As I looked around the room of almost 100 guests, I noticed others were tearing up as well. I felt awful! In one fail swoop I’d brought down the mood of the party.

Finally, he finished reading and moved on to the next gift. After all the gifts were opened and people began to mill around again, my brother found me. The next few words he said to me changed the course of my life forever, no exaggeration. He said, “You have a story to tell and nobody can tell that story but you.” Of course I completely discounted what he said. He was my younger brother so what did he know? But those words stayed with me days after the party was over. So, with a great deal of ‘bravado’ I spoke to the atmosphere, “If it is meant for me to write, then I need an undeniable and clear sign. (Insert – be careful what you speak into the atmosphere).

For the next 13 days in a row, I was awakened from my sleep at 3:00 in the morning. I was wide awake and this flurry of ideas clouded my brain. Initially, the first night, I thought I had eaten too late or my dinner didn’t agree with me. By the third night of my mind being flooded, I got out of bed, went to my desk in my bedroom and wrote down the thoughts, phrases, ideas. After I did, I was able to go back to sleep. By the 7th and 8th night, I moved the notebook to the side of my bed and wrote what came to mind. By the 10th and 11th night, the notebook was in my bed. My ‘awakening’ if you will, was a few years ago. I still have that notebook to this day and there are still ideas, phrases and thoughts I have yet to write about. That night at the party, my brother spoke life into my gift.

Imani: What an amazing story!

Now I’ve read your bio about the tremendous losses of your loved ones; namely, your sister. You have my condolences. However, you also suffered the loss of your husband days before the birth of your child. I know you had your faith to get through those difficult times; but did you use that sorrow toward your writing?

Deidra: In all honesty, I was too busy being a mommy to deal with the sorrow let alone write about it. I didn’t write for others to read until several years after my husband died. In a lot of ways I was still numb from losing my sister some 18 months earlier.

Imani: Now let's go deeper with your work -- are you character-driven or plot-driven, and why?

Deidra: My stories are definitely character driven. I don’t plan a story. I never know what’s going to happen. The characters drive the story and I am merely the conduit by which the words get on the page.

Imani: Of all of your characters, which one you would like to meet and what main question you would ask of them?

Deidra: I would like to meet Gina from the Woman at the Top of the Stairs series. The main question I would ask her would be, “Why has it taken you so long to take care of yourself?”

Imani: What's your methodology of a memorable character?

Deidra: This is a great question! I don’t know that I have a methodology. The characters reveal themselves to me over time and I try to capture their very essence in the words that I use.

Imani: I know exactly what you're saying. When I write, I don't plan; I let my characters reveal themselves over time, as well. So with that said, which character do you enjoy creating -- the perfect hero or the imperfect human?

Deidra: I could never write about the perfect hero because I don't think there is such a thing. Even those perceived to be perfect may have flaws, issues, insecurities that the average individual can't or won't see because of the role the person plays in their life. Besides I think that would be boring. :) I much prefer to write about the imperfect person. That person has dimension, flavor, nuance... for me there is no comparison. I will tell imperfect every time.

 I much prefer to write about the imperfect person. That person has dimension, flavor, nuance... for me there is no comparison. I will tell imperfect every time.

Imani: We all have that person(s) that help shaped our craft. What person(s) inspired you, and what would you say to them if they were here?

Deidra: Most people who know me know I am a huge Stephen King fan. He is certainly an inspiration to me; not just because of his prolific writing but also his work ethic. If he were here I would simply say, ‘thank you’.

Imani: Do you have any future projects in store, and if so, do tell.

Deidra: Yes, I have a few more projects I’m working on. I can say that I am working on the sequel to “Sick, Sicker, Sickest”. I am also finalizing “Suddenly Single”. The other projects are a hush… lol!

Imani: I understand. So Deidra, tell me, where do you see your career in five years?

Deidra: In five years I would hope to be even more passionate about my writing and still committed to telling great compelling stories. I am not into list's although lists are great. I want to still love the written word and penning stories that people talk about long after the reading is over.

Imani: Now I would be wrong in this interview if I didn't mention the jewelry you've been posting online. Did you create it, and where did the idea come from?

Deidra: KandiKissedJewels are handcrafted jewelry designed and created by my daughter and myself. I use to design years ago but decided it would be a great opportunity for my daughter and I to go into business together so she can earn money while going to college without having to go and work for someone else.

Imani: Awesome idea! If someone is reading this, and they would like to purchase one of them,  where should they get more information?

Deidra: Friend me on Facebook as I have an album with most of the jewelry listed. I update as pieces are sold. The website is under development.

Imani: And finally -- in one word, describe Deidra Green's work.

Deidra: Enthralling!

Imani: Thank you again for stopping by The Lounge; it's been truly a privilege and honor. Please know, the welcome mat is always here.

To learn more about Deidra DS Green’s work visit her website:

You may also find her at these sites:

To read a sample and purchase her collection of books visit:

Also visit Deidra's free read page on her website filled with amazing stories and characters. 

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3 Literary Fails I've Come to Embrace

By Imani Wisdom

Remember being that fresh, wet-behind-the-ears novice, beaming because you turned your grand idea into a manuscript?

You then tell your friends, family, and even will let a few read your unedited work, hoping they will agree of what you have been saying all along -- it's the best story ever. 

You can't contain yourself as your imagination runs wild of 50 Shades of Grey-type of success. Your book...your baby that no one has ever heard -- not along the author -- turns into an "overnight sensation". Everyone but everyone wants to know who you are -- media outlets, curious fans, and of course, seizing the interviews of all interviews, Oprah.

But, wait...let's not forget movie deals. You know in that beautiful mind of yours it has popped up. Alice Walker did it. Sapphire scored big with her jewel. Alex Haley's simple story of his family's lineage turned into a week long, television event; and Twelve Years of Slave is now cinematic gold. So why not, right? Hell, your first draft is proof enough. Besides, what author has not imagined their babies on the big or small screen. 

So now that I tapped into your "new author's" high, may I ask you a question? How do you get from the first draft to wherever you see your book taking you? I'm not stepping on your dreams -- trust me, I've been there. There is nothing wrong with visualizing the possibilities; it is a motivating factor. However, if you are new to the literary game, I have to share some wisdom with you (no pun intended). Hear me out. 

Your decision to write a book is more than staying up late at night. You, my friend, will become a business owner -- the Chief Executive Officer (CEO), President, the head-honcho, or whatever title you choose to call yourself, the fact remains the responsibility to see your vision come to pass falls on you. Since the theme of this post is honesty, let me share my three literary fails. They are embarrassing to say the least, but I've come to embrace each fall and wear them like a badge of honor. You know what they say: Experience is a good teacher. 

Listen And Learn 

I admit; I'm stubborn. I had the complex all of my life. My own momma couldn't teach me anything because I thought I knew better than she. And every mistake I made from my adolescence to adulthood, I could hear momma's voice echoing in my head, "I told you!" 

Well, this fail reminded me of that occasion. When I had the pleasure to meeting new and seasoned authors, I felt like I was a part of their club. We spoke the same language, talked about our goals, and discuss potential collaborations; but when they tried to school me about my writing and their other recommendations, I heard them but didn't skillfully listened. From time to time, I would hear an experience author venting in all of their honesty: "You asked my opinion of your writing, and when tell I you what you don't want to hear, you say I'm hating?"

You have to remember they were once you -- new with dreams of being an overnight sensation. Yet somewhere during their journey, they were schooled like you and me. The truth for them were probably hard to swallow. Still, their desire to succeed had never wavered. 

The advice that was given to me still loomed my heart. Sometimes I go back and read one of their blog posts or send them an email or a social media direct message and ask them a question. It is a shame I'm learning this now. So don't let it be you. 

Don't Blink. You May Lose Your Opportunity 

True story: A well-known, bestselling author sent me a personal message on Facebook, offering her guidance and wanting to include me in her writing group, which is not online by the way. She also included her phone number and told me to call her if I was interested. I remembered glowing with excitement because this established author wanted to put me her under wing. So you would think I would have grabbed my phone as soon as I read her message? 

Uh, no. 

Because of a life-long speech impediment, I put off from calling her for fear of a nervous stutter during our conversation. You are probably saying, everyone stutter when they get nervous. Mine could be debilitating when my nerves get riled-up. Who knows, she may had taken it as nerves, but subconsciously, I felt otherwise. 

Next time when someone offers you an opportunity to be under their wing, a collaboration, or an interview on a fellow author's blog, take advantage of it. You will never know what doors will open or people you will meet. Opportunities are golden, don't pass them up.

Be A Hustler, Think Like An Author 

I had that mentality backward and it cost me big time! All I cared was my craft and nothing else. So cramming Business 101 in an all ready filled cranium full of stories seemed too much -- or so I thought. 

Like any business startup, you need capitol. It does not take a "Donald Trump" to understand that you need money to make a quality product. Cutting corners for the sake of a buck will hurt "your baby", and potentially your reputation. Do yourself a favor and consider these factors: marketing, branding, graphic artists, and most importantly, a dern good editor. The first three are not hard on the pockets compared to editing. I could go on and on as to why Editors are essentially the glue that hold your story; just know if you settle for less, you're going to get what you pay for. 

My experience was opposite. I had a superb editor, but I didn't budget the expenses as I should, and I eventually fell short. And because of that blunder, my novel lay waiting until my debts are resolved. Lesson learned, for sure. But hey, I owned my wrongs, and I'm moving forward. The road as a successful author is by far not as smooth as some imagine -- actually, a rude awakening if your expectations are too high. 

So if you plan accordingly and research like you are on mission, you will do fine. And one last piece of advice I want to share -- and it is a must: If you are not having fun, the journey to your aspirations will be a bumpy ride. So puh-leeze, make it at least a memorable one.

(c) 2014, Imani Wisdom
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Lips were suddenly on my neck; that spot on my neck where my pulse could be felt the strongest. The spot that a mate was drawn to by some invisible force that begged him to mark me as his own. I whimpered as I felt his tongue dash out, licking the spot in preparation for the initial bite all the while our bodies were still connected. Finally, my mate was here, the other half of my soul. He pounded inside me, stroking the flames of my inner inferno. His size stretched me, claimed me, demanded pleasure that I wasn't sure I could provide but was helpless to deny. Higher and higher the flames grew. Harder and faster he went. My legs instantly wrapped around his waist. My heels dug into his buttocks, my arms grabbed on to his. Sweat rolled down my body leaving a trail between my breasts, across my stomach, and past my navel until it disappeared between my legs. I felt my inner muscles clamp down; shrinking as if the tightness was trying to hold him into me forever. My canines elongated. The hands I had used to pull him close shifted into claws. My control was gone. Finally my wolf could truly run free. I smiled realizing that he too had started a half shift lost in the sensations. My climax was so close I could taste its sweetness and just like that I woke up.

This was so completely frustrating. As a wolf shifter, I should completely understand what was going on with me. After all, I had been dreaming of my life’s mate for the past six years. It was normal to first meet in a dream. What wasn't normal was that in the six years I have been dreaming of him, I wasn't one step closer to finding out who he was. I went to the elders, begged for advice but the reply was always the same: when the time was right, our physical selves would catch up with our spiritual. The problem with that was I was in heat and being unmated and in heat spelled disaster in every language I knew. The thought of living through a week of constant arousal alone made me want to cry. However, the mere thought of a substitution other than my mate made me sick. Once mated, the touch of another male would have negative effects on my health. Until I was mated, however, I was free to wolf around with whoever I saw fit. Unfortunately, no one told my wolf that. Ever since she scented her mate, dream world or not, no one else caught her attention. This was becoming one long week and it had just begun. When we met in my dreams tonight, I was going to take matters into my own hands.

I can't believe I did it. For the past six years I was always awoken in my dreams to my mate thrusting inside me. If there had been foreplay prior to that throbbing sensation, my mind must have closed it out, only revealing the exact moment where our bodies became one. Tonight was different though. Tonight, I searched for him and found him asleep not quite yet prepared to journey into my mind. Slowly, I lowered myself next to him, kissing from him neck to earlobe. I nipped lightly but firmly enough to cause a reaction. His body began to awaken even as his mind had yet to awaken for me. Firmly, I grabbed hold of his shaft and began to stroke up and down, amazed at how quickly it went from soft to steel. In my previous dreams, passionate, yet brief, I never had the chance to explore him so I took the time to visually explore every inch of his body. In my fascination, I didn’t even realize that he had awakened and was staring at me both confused and pleased at the same time. Just when I was leaning in to taste him, he whispered a moan that caused me to momentarily stop in my tracks. I recovered quickly, smiling like a child who was just caught trying to sneak a sweet treat before dinner. He rolled on top of me and kissed me. A kiss that turned the power off in my brain while increasing the senses directly connected to my core. I felt the liquid pool between my legs until it had no choice but to flow down. An arousal I felt sure he could smell. After all, I was counting on it. I needed him to understand the urgency of finding me. I needed him. My body craved him to fill the void that only a mate could. Releasing my mouth he latched on to a nipple, sucking it so hard it sent a shock to my clitorus making me squirm. Not one to ignore, he used one hand to tweak my other nipple while using his other hand to pinch and pull my aroused button. I'd cum like this with him before so I wasn't afraid I would miss my chance if I gave in to the orgasm rushing towards me. I cried out as he slipped two fingers inside me, caressing a spot I had yet to find on my own and sent me flying over the edge. When I regained the ability to think, he was already inside me exacting slow, lazy strokes. The time came to confess my need, while he was distracted by our passion but not yet overwhelmed. "I need you mate." I whispered. We had spoken before but it was always with the purpose of heightening the moment. "Need? Hard (he thrust harder), fast (he thrust faster). Tell me mate. Ask and you shall have." Well, since he put it that way. "I need you to find me," and at the moment I pressed my fingers on my sweetness hurrying me to a climax that snatched me from my dream world. I awoke sexually frustrated but satisfied that I had done what I needed to convince him that whatever the reason he stayed away, the time had passed and I needed him.

Two days later and my heat was in full effect. I locked myself away. Even the air made my skin sizzle. I needed to cum so bad I almost said to hell with a mate and walked outside to let my scent send all the available males in a five mile radius to my door. The thing about wolves is when a female goes into heat it’s like a drug you’ve been addicted to all your life being dangled in front of you. Thankfully, we only go into heat once every three years. I was so consumed with the need for release that I didn’t care it wasn't with my mate, during my first heat. Since then, my wolf felt cheated out of the forever bond that mating created. This was the reason I endured being in physical pain; she wouldn't allow me to lose myself unless my mate was there to find me.

I couldn't sleep so I hadn't seen him since the night I asked him to find me. My wolf clawed at me needing to be set free as much as my human side. I didn't remember my last heat being this intense. I felt my skin tightening around my bones, discomfort everywhere not just my core. And then the scent hit me. A male was near. Not just any male but MY male. So close that my thick arousal suddenly went into overdrive as if sending out a signal for him to find me. I rushed to the door removing the barrier that kept my scent from alerting the pack of my condition. As soon as the lock was off and the door was open I was in his arms. His mouth crushed mine and a taste that was familiar and new greeted me. I was fully naked as clothes made no sense when nothing could touch me without making me weak with need. I wrapped my arms around his neck drawing him closer to me. He grabbed my legs lifting me up rubbing me against his groin in the process. Spinning me around and backing me up against the door he released me long enough to shed his clothes. Again our mouths connected, his hands roamed my body. We would have time to explore later but I needed him inside me now. I exposed my neck to him the same time he pushed inside my already drenched center. Finally we were together, and this time when he sank his teeth into my neck and his hardness into my core, I reached the stars and when I came down my mate was there. Joined with me forever and ready to enjoy our first in an eternity of heat spells together.

©2014, Priscilla Danita Robinson 

Priscilla D Robinson is the Author of Love's Moodswings: The Discovery, the Choice, and the Surrender to Love. Her debut book is a collection of three short stories that focus on different forms of love. Recently she began the task of writing down what her mind showed her and thus began her writing journey. When she is not off in a dream world she lives in Connecticut with her daughter. Robinson is currently a student at the University of Bridgeport for a bachelor's degree in Human Service. Her favorite saying is “the sky is always purple somewhere in the world” which means anything is possible if you know where to look for it.


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