Cheris Hodges's Blog, page 31
April 12, 2013
The November cover reveal. . . Love After War
Which is sweeter, love or revenge?
Find out this November.
February 9, 2013
Waiting For The Other Shoe to Drop: Part 19
All of this brings me to Charlotte, three years after I left
Raleigh.
Year one in Charlotte was profitable. I had a job with the city as a researcher
in the Neighborhood and Business services department. I loved my job – at least for a while. In
my first year working with the city, I had a wonderful mentor, Sonia Parker.
She’d been
the woman I wanted to be when I grew up, smart as a whip, fair but tough and
respected by all. When she took me under her wing, I knew moving to Charlotte
and selling my house in Raleigh – at a loss – had been the right choice.
“Mimi,” Sonia had said one
afternoon as I headed out the door.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“There
you go with that ma’am
stuff,” she
joked. The native New Yorker hadn’t been a big fan of being called ma’am, despite the fact that
she was 50 years old. She would often say that she didn’t look a day over 30. She
was almost right, I’d say
40.
“My
mother taught me well,” I said
with a laugh. “What’s going on?”
“I have a
personal favor to ask of you.”
“All
right.”
“My
cousin fancies himself as a DJ and he’s spinning or whatever at a club tonight. I don’t do clubs, but you have to
support family.”
I nodded, but didn’t
wholeheartedly agree. Cuzzo would just have to accept my congratulations in a
text message.
“So, will
you be my wing woman?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want to go to the club
alone and you need to get out. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
“Well, I
was going to . . .”
“Mimi,
you work hard. You need a social life. There’s this thing called work life balance and I don’t think you have that
balance. You don’t want
to burn out.”
This from a woman who was the first person in the door in the
morning and the last to leave at night. “OK. Where is this club?”
“At the
North Carolina Music Factory, you know where that is, right?”
Nodding, I felt like telling her that I’d only read about that place
would’ve been
a bad idea. “Great,” Sonia said. “The club is Butter and
David, I’m sorry,
DJ QC, will be handling the music.”
“DJ Queen
City?” I
questioned, thinking that was the lamest name for a DJ ever.
She nodded. “He’s also a producer and
wanted to come back to Charlotte to sign some local talent for his label.”
“That
sounds great.”
Sonia picked up her iPad and showed me a picture of David with a
bunch of Cub Scouts. Down, Mimi, I
thought as I focused on this chocolate man with the smoothest skin I’d ever seen. Bright brown
eyes and a killer smile. “That’s my little cousin,” Sonia said. “I’m proud of him because he
could’ve
stayed in New York, but he came home to make a difference in the old
neighborhood.”
“NoDa?”
“Just FYI,
don’t say
that to him. That’s the
bane of his existence. North Charlotte will always be North Charlotte, no
matter how I try to explain what redevelopment of that area is vital for the
city. He says the city just wants to push black folks out of their homes.”
I kind of agreed with his point of view, but would I share that
with my boss? Hell no. I’ve learned
that sometimes you do have to play office politics. I laugh at corny jokes and I
leave my personal life – or lack
of one – at the
door. Work is work. Granted, there are a few fine men who work in my
department, but after my experience with Rich, I just keep it moving. Speaking
of Rich, he had the gall to call me a month ago because he was in Charlotte
working on the hospital project. I hung up on him, didn’t even curse him out like
he deserved.
“What
time does this thing start?” I
asked.
“Nine.”
“Well, I’ll see you then.”
“Great.
And thank you. Make sure you dress for an evening out and not a day at the
office.”
“I might
have to hit the mall,” I
quipped. “I have a
closet full of business suits.”
Sonia rolled her eyes. “I think you’re older than me. See you later.”
On the drive home, I my mind wandered to my closet. I seriously
didn’t have
any clubbing clothes because I had decided that until I found a jazz club like
the one in Mo Better Blues, I wasn’t going out. And it would
help if there was a sexy band leader like Denzel blowing a trumpet to take me
home as well. But I digress. As I nearly ran in the back of a Charlotte Area
Transit bus, inspiration struck me. Black leather. Tonight, I’d morph in to my own
version of Catwoman, circa Batman Returns, not that Halle Berry bomb.
Raleigh.
Year one in Charlotte was profitable. I had a job with the city as a researcher
in the Neighborhood and Business services department. I loved my job – at least for a while. In
my first year working with the city, I had a wonderful mentor, Sonia Parker.
She’d been
the woman I wanted to be when I grew up, smart as a whip, fair but tough and
respected by all. When she took me under her wing, I knew moving to Charlotte
and selling my house in Raleigh – at a loss – had been the right choice.
“Mimi,” Sonia had said one
afternoon as I headed out the door.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“There
you go with that ma’am
stuff,” she
joked. The native New Yorker hadn’t been a big fan of being called ma’am, despite the fact that
she was 50 years old. She would often say that she didn’t look a day over 30. She
was almost right, I’d say
40.
“My
mother taught me well,” I said
with a laugh. “What’s going on?”
“I have a
personal favor to ask of you.”
“All
right.”
“My
cousin fancies himself as a DJ and he’s spinning or whatever at a club tonight. I don’t do clubs, but you have to
support family.”
I nodded, but didn’t
wholeheartedly agree. Cuzzo would just have to accept my congratulations in a
text message.
“So, will
you be my wing woman?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t want to go to the club
alone and you need to get out. It’s a win-win for both of us.”
“Well, I
was going to . . .”
“Mimi,
you work hard. You need a social life. There’s this thing called work life balance and I don’t think you have that
balance. You don’t want
to burn out.”
This from a woman who was the first person in the door in the
morning and the last to leave at night. “OK. Where is this club?”
“At the
North Carolina Music Factory, you know where that is, right?”
Nodding, I felt like telling her that I’d only read about that place
would’ve been
a bad idea. “Great,” Sonia said. “The club is Butter and
David, I’m sorry,
DJ QC, will be handling the music.”
“DJ Queen
City?” I
questioned, thinking that was the lamest name for a DJ ever.
She nodded. “He’s also a producer and
wanted to come back to Charlotte to sign some local talent for his label.”
“That
sounds great.”
Sonia picked up her iPad and showed me a picture of David with a
bunch of Cub Scouts. Down, Mimi, I
thought as I focused on this chocolate man with the smoothest skin I’d ever seen. Bright brown
eyes and a killer smile. “That’s my little cousin,” Sonia said. “I’m proud of him because he
could’ve
stayed in New York, but he came home to make a difference in the old
neighborhood.”
“NoDa?”
“Just FYI,
don’t say
that to him. That’s the
bane of his existence. North Charlotte will always be North Charlotte, no
matter how I try to explain what redevelopment of that area is vital for the
city. He says the city just wants to push black folks out of their homes.”
I kind of agreed with his point of view, but would I share that
with my boss? Hell no. I’ve learned
that sometimes you do have to play office politics. I laugh at corny jokes and I
leave my personal life – or lack
of one – at the
door. Work is work. Granted, there are a few fine men who work in my
department, but after my experience with Rich, I just keep it moving. Speaking
of Rich, he had the gall to call me a month ago because he was in Charlotte
working on the hospital project. I hung up on him, didn’t even curse him out like
he deserved.
“What
time does this thing start?” I
asked.
“Nine.”
“Well, I’ll see you then.”
“Great.
And thank you. Make sure you dress for an evening out and not a day at the
office.”
“I might
have to hit the mall,” I
quipped. “I have a
closet full of business suits.”
Sonia rolled her eyes. “I think you’re older than me. See you later.”
On the drive home, I my mind wandered to my closet. I seriously
didn’t have
any clubbing clothes because I had decided that until I found a jazz club like
the one in Mo Better Blues, I wasn’t going out. And it would
help if there was a sexy band leader like Denzel blowing a trumpet to take me
home as well. But I digress. As I nearly ran in the back of a Charlotte Area
Transit bus, inspiration struck me. Black leather. Tonight, I’d morph in to my own
version of Catwoman, circa Batman Returns, not that Halle Berry bomb.
February 8, 2013
Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop: Part 18
Though I needed Rich to drive me back to my car, I was too mad to think clearly. "Wake up!" I screamed as I threw his phone at him. The iPhone crashed into the headboard and fell on his head. Rich jolted awake. "What?" he stammered.
"Trainee?"
"What are you. . .did you just throw my phone at me? What in the fuck is going on?"
Glaring at him, I wished I had something else to throw. Glass, lead pipe -- anything.
"You tell me, you lying son of a bitch. I'm so sick of men like you."
"Mimi, I don't know what your damned problem is, but you are mental." He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
"And you're a liar. Your phone rang while you were sleeping."
"You went through my phone?"
"I sure did. And you aren't worth a damn," I spat. "All you had to do was be honest, Richard. But you wanted to sell me a bill of lies. I didn't ask you for that. You could've kept your lies to yourself. Get the fuck out of my house."
He pulled his clothes on and shook his head. "You are so fucking typical."
"I'm typical? You lying son of a bitch. You fucking me and lying to your ex, but I'm typical? Look up bullshit artist in the dictionary, your picture is there."
He glared at me, trying to pretend that he'd been victimized. "You know what," he said with a slight nod. "I didn't want to get hurt. I like you, but your attitude is fucked up. That's why you're going to be single for a long time -- if not forever."
That did it. I picked up one of my Nike Airmax sneakers and tossed it at him. Direct hit, straight to the forehead. "If being with a man means dealing with lying motherfucker like you, then I will stock up on batteries. Get the hell out of here before I do something that I'm going to have to go to court for."
Rich dashed for the door and I could have sworn I heard the words stupid and bitch leave his mouth before the door slammed. Walking into the living room, I plopped down on the sofa -- willing myself not to cry. It wasn't the fact that Rich was out of my life, I was tired of this Groundhog's Day shit. If I'm honest with myself, I was wrong for hopping into bed with him so quickly. I expected too much, too soon. Of course a man will be nice when the pussy is new. But at the end of the day, month or year, they always fall back on the bullshit they can control. Well, I was done. Done with Rich, men in general, and my fucking job. Mimi Collins was going to start over. All I could do was hope and pray that Charlotte was not going to be the same shit, different zip code.
Now, if I could only find a job there.
"Trainee?"
"What are you. . .did you just throw my phone at me? What in the fuck is going on?"
Glaring at him, I wished I had something else to throw. Glass, lead pipe -- anything.
"You tell me, you lying son of a bitch. I'm so sick of men like you."
"Mimi, I don't know what your damned problem is, but you are mental." He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed.
"And you're a liar. Your phone rang while you were sleeping."
"You went through my phone?"
"I sure did. And you aren't worth a damn," I spat. "All you had to do was be honest, Richard. But you wanted to sell me a bill of lies. I didn't ask you for that. You could've kept your lies to yourself. Get the fuck out of my house."
He pulled his clothes on and shook his head. "You are so fucking typical."
"I'm typical? You lying son of a bitch. You fucking me and lying to your ex, but I'm typical? Look up bullshit artist in the dictionary, your picture is there."
He glared at me, trying to pretend that he'd been victimized. "You know what," he said with a slight nod. "I didn't want to get hurt. I like you, but your attitude is fucked up. That's why you're going to be single for a long time -- if not forever."
That did it. I picked up one of my Nike Airmax sneakers and tossed it at him. Direct hit, straight to the forehead. "If being with a man means dealing with lying motherfucker like you, then I will stock up on batteries. Get the hell out of here before I do something that I'm going to have to go to court for."
Rich dashed for the door and I could have sworn I heard the words stupid and bitch leave his mouth before the door slammed. Walking into the living room, I plopped down on the sofa -- willing myself not to cry. It wasn't the fact that Rich was out of my life, I was tired of this Groundhog's Day shit. If I'm honest with myself, I was wrong for hopping into bed with him so quickly. I expected too much, too soon. Of course a man will be nice when the pussy is new. But at the end of the day, month or year, they always fall back on the bullshit they can control. Well, I was done. Done with Rich, men in general, and my fucking job. Mimi Collins was going to start over. All I could do was hope and pray that Charlotte was not going to be the same shit, different zip code.
Now, if I could only find a job there.
February 6, 2013
What does a (this) romance writer do for Valentine's Day?
Roses are red, violets are blue. This Valentine's Day I'm going to be writing for you.
Maybe there will be vodka, but coffee will be my guest for sure. Mimi Collins will come to an end. The shoe will drop and we'll see what happens to the feisty girl so many of you love.
Have you been keeping up with Waiting For The Other Shoe to Drop? Catch up by clicking here.
Maybe there will be vodka, but coffee will be my guest for sure. Mimi Collins will come to an end. The shoe will drop and we'll see what happens to the feisty girl so many of you love.
Have you been keeping up with Waiting For The Other Shoe to Drop? Catch up by clicking here.
Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop: part 17
I've heard of getting knocked out by pleasure, read about it in a romance novel or two --- but the experience was way better than the book. When my eyes fluttered open, Rich had a look of horror on his face.
"Are you OK?" he asked frantically.
I blinked as I nodded. "More than OK." Damn, my voice didn't even sound like my own.
"You're still shaking," he said as he pulled me into his arms.
I patted him on his back. "Aftershocks, honey. You win, you rocked the bed."
Rich's face relaxed and his lips curved into a smile. You'd think that I would've been in recovery mode. But Rich's smile turned me on like a gas lamp. I wrapped my leg around his waist, pulling him against my heat. "You want some more?" His lips grazed my ear and I thrust into him.
"What do you think?" I replied then reach down, grabbed his thick erection and slid it into place. Rich pumped in and out. I ground my hips against him, feeling the heat thinking that I was going to explode again. This time, he came first-- seemingly speaking in tongues--and he collapsed on top of me. His sweat mixing with mine, making a huge wet spot in the sheets. "That was amazing," he said. "You stay wet. I love that."
"Umm." I laid against his damp chest and closed my eyes. "You feel good, too."
"Can we sleep now?" He kissed me on my forehead.
"For a little while."
Rich and I slept through the night and I was beginning to think this thing might work out. But when I woke up at five in the morning because his phone was buzzing, I couldn't help myself, I reached for it to see who was calling.
The thing about an iPhone is, people can't help but add pictures to their contacts. So, this was a woman calling him at this time of morning. From her picture, which included tattoos across her shoulders, it had to be his ex. My first instinct was to throw the phone at his head. When the phone stopped vibrating, I grabbed it and rushed into the bathroom. No one calls a man at five in the morning if something isn't going on.
Rich didn't have a passcode on his phone, so getting to his text messages was a breeze. Part of me wondered, why was I doing this. Rich wasn't my man, yet. But if we were taking steps to get there then I should be the only woman in his life. I'd been there and done that sharing shit before and I was not going to do it again-- at least not knowingly. And according to the messages I began to read, Rich was a fucking Mack.
He had to go!
Not only was he still seeing his ex, she saw us together. He told her that I was his trainee. What?! This lying assclown. Storming out of the bathroom, I expected Rich to be awake and searching for his phone. He was sleeping. Resting peacefully.
Bastard.
"Are you OK?" he asked frantically.
I blinked as I nodded. "More than OK." Damn, my voice didn't even sound like my own.
"You're still shaking," he said as he pulled me into his arms.
I patted him on his back. "Aftershocks, honey. You win, you rocked the bed."
Rich's face relaxed and his lips curved into a smile. You'd think that I would've been in recovery mode. But Rich's smile turned me on like a gas lamp. I wrapped my leg around his waist, pulling him against my heat. "You want some more?" His lips grazed my ear and I thrust into him.
"What do you think?" I replied then reach down, grabbed his thick erection and slid it into place. Rich pumped in and out. I ground my hips against him, feeling the heat thinking that I was going to explode again. This time, he came first-- seemingly speaking in tongues--and he collapsed on top of me. His sweat mixing with mine, making a huge wet spot in the sheets. "That was amazing," he said. "You stay wet. I love that."
"Umm." I laid against his damp chest and closed my eyes. "You feel good, too."
"Can we sleep now?" He kissed me on my forehead.
"For a little while."
Rich and I slept through the night and I was beginning to think this thing might work out. But when I woke up at five in the morning because his phone was buzzing, I couldn't help myself, I reached for it to see who was calling.
The thing about an iPhone is, people can't help but add pictures to their contacts. So, this was a woman calling him at this time of morning. From her picture, which included tattoos across her shoulders, it had to be his ex. My first instinct was to throw the phone at his head. When the phone stopped vibrating, I grabbed it and rushed into the bathroom. No one calls a man at five in the morning if something isn't going on.
Rich didn't have a passcode on his phone, so getting to his text messages was a breeze. Part of me wondered, why was I doing this. Rich wasn't my man, yet. But if we were taking steps to get there then I should be the only woman in his life. I'd been there and done that sharing shit before and I was not going to do it again-- at least not knowingly. And according to the messages I began to read, Rich was a fucking Mack.
He had to go!
Not only was he still seeing his ex, she saw us together. He told her that I was his trainee. What?! This lying assclown. Storming out of the bathroom, I expected Rich to be awake and searching for his phone. He was sleeping. Resting peacefully.
Bastard.
February 3, 2013
Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop: Part 16 B
Rich
scooped me up in his arms and our lips were drawn together like metal and a
magnet. Lips parted, tongues danced, I felt as if I had a lustful fever.
Pulling at Rich’s shirt, I felt buttons pop
off as the kiss deepened and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His dick
throbbed and the vibrations sent tingles through my nervous system and pooled
passion between my thighs. We broke the kiss, stared into each other’s eyes as if we shared a singular thought. As if we needed
nothing more than to melt into each other. He rushed to my bedroom and we
tumbled on to the bed as we pulled each other’s
clothes off. Running my hand down his bare chest as he straddled my awaiting
body, I couldn’t believe how much I craved
this man. Or was it just . . . No, don’t over analyze it. Just go
with it.
Rich kissed my neck, licking and
sucking as if he was enjoying dessert. Inching down the column of my neck he proceeded
to devour my breasts, nipping at my nipples making me arch my back in response
to his mouth. His hot mouth. Tantalizing tongue. Moans escaped my throat as he darted
his tongue in and out of my navel while stroking the wetness between my thighs.
When he replaced his hand with that tongue and those lips, I felt explosions
erupt inside me.
“Damn,” Rich whispered as he pulled back and looked up at me, his
face shining with my essence. “That’s one, huh?”
“Yes.” My voice didn’t sound like my own. It was as if I’d had some orgasmic out of body experience. Despite the
fact that I was trying to just go with the feeling of pure pleasure, my pesky
conscience started whispering –You
know this is your problem.
My body went limp for a second. This was the truth. But who had time for the
truth when Rich was doing everything to cause another explosion – this time adding a finger to what his tongue was doing. My
left leg shook as if an earthquake was happening there. He sucked my throbbing
bud as his finger drew circles inside me. My body was on fire, I couldn’t think –just feel. And damn it, I felt
good. Digging my nails into Rich’s shoulder, I sang his name
like an opera diva. Rich lifted his head and smiled. “That’s two?”
“Let’s say four,” I replied breathlessly.
“All
right,” he whispered, and then
reached on the side of the bed for his discarded pants. He pulled his wallet
out of his back pocket then grabbed a condom. “Now,
let me join in.”
It took the condom from his hand
before he opened it then rolled him over on his back. “I think it’s my turn to show you what a
mouth can do.”
He locked his hands behind his head
with a smirk on his handsome face. “Show me, baby.”
Starting with his nipples, I
traveled down his body—tongue first. As I brought my
lips on top of his erection, he gripped the headboard. When I took the length
of him deep inside my mouth, he shook and screamed. Up and down. Deeper.
Deeper. Up and down. Looking at the look of pleasure and delight on his face
turned me on, made me wetter than a sink full of dish water. Rich gripped my
hair, trying to pull my mouth away from him but I wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t let go of the control I had
over his pleasure. Over his body.
He trembled and pleaded for me to
stop. And I did, after one slow lick of his length. Goosebumps appeared on his
skin as I massaged his balls while rolling the condom in place. As I mounted his
erection, Rich grabbed my hips holding me in place as he thrust forward into my
wetness. “Eww,” I moaned.
“Yeah,” he groaned. “I told you to stop.” Another harder and deeper thrust. “You don’t play fair.” Harder thrust.
“Neither
do you,” I cried, grinding against him
and pushing back. He threw his head back as I bounced up and down, my ass slapping
against his skin. Rich grabbed my cheeks, spreading them apart and teasing the
back door with his index finger. Tensed for a moment. This was something new.
Oh my damn! This felt good.
“Oh,
you like that?” he intoned as I backed into
his finger.
“Ye-yes,” I said. Explosion. A really big one. Rich thrust harder
and deeper and then everything went black.
And the winner is . . .
Congratulations to Jeanette! You are the winner of a bottle of Blanc De Blanc.
Thank you to everyone who entered the contest and read Recipe For Desire!
Now, March is a special month for me because it's my birthday month and the unofficial start of spring. This month, I'm going back in my archives and pulling out some of my older titles.
For your chance to win a copy of A Love of Her Own and a $5 Starbucks or Amazon gift card, answer this Black History Fact:
Who was the first known published African American writer in 1760?
Email your answer to cheris87@bellsouth.net by March 6, 2013.
Also, join me and the ladies of HOT M.A.M.A land for the Fly Hat Society Luncheon on March 6.
The Hot MAMA Land
Fly Hat Society Luncheon
March 9, 2013
11AM-4PM
Holiday Inn RDU
930 Airport Blvd
Morrisville, NC
Tickets: $35.00, available at the blog January 15th!
Tickets are limited to 31 attendees, so don't delay in securing your seat!
Join us for awesome Swag Bags, a delicious catered lunch^, a Fly Hat Contest*, and rubbing
elbows with your favorite authors!
Featuring:
• Angie Daniels/Sasha Campbell
• Altonya Washington
• Bridget Midway
• Cheris Hodges
• Denise Jeffries
• Iris Bolling
• Loretta Walls
• Monique Lamont
• Kianna Alexander
^ Catered Lunch includes:
Sandwiches: Shaved Chicken on Baguette and Turkey Bacon Ranch Wraps
Mixed Green Salad
Baked Potato Bar
Fresh Baked Cookies
Assorted Beverages
*Full event schedule and Fly Hat Contest details will be posted to the blog in February.
Stay in the Know! Follow the blog at http://hotsouthernwriters.blogspot.com for all the details.
Thank you to everyone who entered the contest and read Recipe For Desire!
Now, March is a special month for me because it's my birthday month and the unofficial start of spring. This month, I'm going back in my archives and pulling out some of my older titles.
For your chance to win a copy of A Love of Her Own and a $5 Starbucks or Amazon gift card, answer this Black History Fact:
Who was the first known published African American writer in 1760?
Email your answer to cheris87@bellsouth.net by March 6, 2013.
Also, join me and the ladies of HOT M.A.M.A land for the Fly Hat Society Luncheon on March 6.
The Hot MAMA Land
Fly Hat Society Luncheon
March 9, 2013
11AM-4PM
Holiday Inn RDU
930 Airport Blvd
Morrisville, NC
Tickets: $35.00, available at the blog January 15th!
Tickets are limited to 31 attendees, so don't delay in securing your seat!
Join us for awesome Swag Bags, a delicious catered lunch^, a Fly Hat Contest*, and rubbing
elbows with your favorite authors!
Featuring:
• Angie Daniels/Sasha Campbell
• Altonya Washington
• Bridget Midway
• Cheris Hodges
• Denise Jeffries
• Iris Bolling
• Loretta Walls
• Monique Lamont
• Kianna Alexander
^ Catered Lunch includes:
Sandwiches: Shaved Chicken on Baguette and Turkey Bacon Ranch Wraps
Mixed Green Salad
Baked Potato Bar
Fresh Baked Cookies
Assorted Beverages
*Full event schedule and Fly Hat Contest details will be posted to the blog in February.
Stay in the Know! Follow the blog at http://hotsouthernwriters.blogspot.com for all the details.
February 2, 2013
Chatting with Bridget Midway and Monique Lamont/Yvette Hines
Join us in Hot M.A.M.A Land! More importantly, join us for the Fly Hat Luncheon in March!
The Hot MAMA Land
Fly Hat Society Luncheon
March 9, 2013
11AM-4PM
Holiday Inn RDU
930 Airport Blvd
Morrisville, NC
Tickets: $35.00, available at the blog January 15th!
Tickets are limited to 31 attendees, so don't delay in securing your seat!
Join us for awesome Swag Bags, a delicious catered lunch^, a Fly Hat Contest*, and rubbing
elbows with your favorite authors!
Featuring:
• Angie Daniels/Sasha Campbell
• Altonya Washington
• Bridget Midway
• Cheris Hodges
• Denise Jeffries
• Iris Bolling
• Loretta Walls
• Monique Lamont
• Kianna Alexander
^ Catered Lunch includes:
Sandwiches: Shaved Chicken on Baguette and Turkey Bacon Ranch Wraps
Mixed Green Salad
Baked Potato Bar
Fresh Baked Cookies
Assorted Beverages
*Full event schedule and Fly Hat Contest details will be posted to the blog in February.
Stay in the Know! Follow the blog at http://hotsouthernwriters.blogspot.com for all the details.
A decade of Sol from Mike Kitchen
The kitchen has been open for a decade. No, not one at your
favorite restaurant, but the Sol Kitchen – brain child of promoter Mike Kitchen.
From events like the wildly popular Pop Life to bringing
artist like John Legend and Raphael Saadiq to Charlotte, Kitchen has changed
the landscape of night life in Charlotte.
“Ten years ago, in my opinion, the music scene was pretty
lame,” he said. “My whole thing was I wanted to see more of an urban music
scene. We didn’t really have anybody coming through here. Everybody was going to major cities, Atlanta,
DC, but nobody was stopping through here. So, with that being said, I said you
know what, maybe this is my chance to do something different.”
And he did something, starting with a weekly event at the
former Tonic lounge on Sunday nights. The music was nothing like what you heard
on popular radio stations. And when Kitchen brought a live performer – like Dwele
or Kindred The Family Soul – the crowd showed up.
“None of the small to mid-range artists was coming through
here and that was my niche. My first show was Dwele at Tonic. It was a very pleasant
surprise. Here I have an artist who is on the come up. He’s getting radio play
and radio threw me some love. To this day, I’m not sure how we got all of those
people in there. Literally, it was crazy. All of those people in there on top
of each other. In fact, me and one of my friends from Raleigh were standing up
on the bar to watch the concert. I broke even because I didn’t know what the
hell I was doing. But it was an experience. Dwele and I are still good friends
today. His manager and I are still good friends and we still talk about that
show all the time.”
A lot has changed in 10 years. Kitchen is known for his
events and concerts. He’s gone to Chicago and been recognized because events he’s
put on during the CIAA Basketball tournament. He’s even partnered with the
college basketball league and hosted “official” events. Kitchen brought NAS to
town last year –and the hip-hop legend performed a full concert when most
celebrity event during the CIAA means someone sits in the VIP section and
leaves after 20 minutes.
“The good thing about the CIAA is people do follow
promoters. If they had a good experience with you last year, then they will
come back. I have to give people credit for that,” he said.
But over the last 10 years, Kitchen said the more things
change, the more they stay the same. Charlotte, he said, is a market where
people like to party more than go to a concert –even if the cost is the same.
“Let’s say Ludacris was coming to town. They probably wouldn’t
pay to go see Ludacris (in concert) but if I bring Ludacris to a club, oh all
day long. Cut line, however much you charge. Charge you for wearing sneakers.
People will party to look at someone but won’t pay to see them perform,”
Kitchen said.
So, who do people like and will go see? Raphael Saadiq is
always a hit, Kitchen said. He’s brought the singer to Charlotte three times and
said the singer/producer is one of his favorite people to interact with.
“He has so much material and a presence,” he said.
What’s next for The Sol Kitchen?
·
Sol Kitchen | Digital Divas present
INDULGE featuring “The Harvey Cummings Project” & the DJ for the
evening, “KITCH”.
Sunday, Feb. 10 @ OSSO 1000 NC Music
Factory Blvd Charlotte, NC
11 m
– 4 pm
Reservations: 704.971.0550 or www.ossocharlotte.com
·
Sunday February 3rd we’re back. Starting
a new 1st of the month tradition. After the 49ers (King Henry’s Team) face off
against the Ravens (DJ Quicksilva’s Team) all roads lead to the hottest venue
in the Carolinas….LABEL! Doors fly open at 10pm and early arrival is MANDATORY!
DJ Quicksilva has heard all about the new Sunday night hot spot and
wants to see for himself. You already know when Quick is in the building the
dance floor is on another level!
We’re also celebrating Dee Autry’s Birthday. He’s inviting all
Aquarius’ to show up & show out!
Just as last time. Some of our customers have gotten the jump &
reserved their tables already. Don’t be left out. Contact Tami today
980.322.9859 to secure your V.I.P. Table.
For more information, log on to www.thesolkitchen.com
Waiting for The Other Shoe to Drop --Part 16 A
Rich and I arrived at my place and I
didn’t want to leave. We sat on the
sofa, in silence – no TV, radio or talking. I
just nestled against his chest and closed my eyes. He stroked my arm gently and
the next thing I knew, I was knocked out. This was weird, scary and oh so
comfortable. I don’t know how long I slumbered
before Rich whispered in my ear, “If you didn’t want to go to the lake, you could’ve just said so.”
My eyes fluttered open, and I found
myself lying in his lap. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Not
long, you hadn’t even started snoring yet.”
“That’s because I don’t snore,” I replied with a small yawn. “I didn’t realize I was tired.”
“Alcohol
makes light weights sleepy.”
Sitting up, I nodded. “And that I am. Umm, I guess I need to make some coffee so
that we can get my car and you can head home. You have work in the morning.”
“And
you are going to sleep late and drink coffee all day? I don’t think that’s fair.”
“What?” Was my house the place where Rich lost his mind? Was this
land a graveyard before the builder laid my foundation and the spirit of an
asshole hopping in every man who walked through my door?
“What
I’m saying is, I have some PTO
and I’m going to call in tomorrow so
I can wake up with you in my arms – if that’s all right with you.”
“Whew,” I said. “I thought I was going to have
to kick you out again.”
He stroked my cheek and laughed. A
good sign. “You don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, do you?” I asked.
He raised his right eyebrow. “Are you still drunk?”
“No.”
“Then,
I’m sleeping in the bed with you
and I plan to add an s to orgasm.”
“Is
that so?”
“As
long as you’re sober because the next time
we start talking about how good I am in bed, I don’t want to hear a word about you being drunk.”
“Good
in bed?”
“As
you recall,” he said. “We didn’t make it to the bed before.”
Rising from the sofa, I stretched
and pushed my booty out in his face. Rich grabbed a cheek and squeezed it
gently. Then he stood behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist as I
straightened my back. Feeling his hardness resting against my butt was a hell
of turn on. All that talk about not sleeping with him and simply hanging out
like two rational adults went out the window. And my panties went straight to
my ankles.
didn’t want to leave. We sat on the
sofa, in silence – no TV, radio or talking. I
just nestled against his chest and closed my eyes. He stroked my arm gently and
the next thing I knew, I was knocked out. This was weird, scary and oh so
comfortable. I don’t know how long I slumbered
before Rich whispered in my ear, “If you didn’t want to go to the lake, you could’ve just said so.”
My eyes fluttered open, and I found
myself lying in his lap. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Not
long, you hadn’t even started snoring yet.”
“That’s because I don’t snore,” I replied with a small yawn. “I didn’t realize I was tired.”
“Alcohol
makes light weights sleepy.”
Sitting up, I nodded. “And that I am. Umm, I guess I need to make some coffee so
that we can get my car and you can head home. You have work in the morning.”
“And
you are going to sleep late and drink coffee all day? I don’t think that’s fair.”
“What?” Was my house the place where Rich lost his mind? Was this
land a graveyard before the builder laid my foundation and the spirit of an
asshole hopping in every man who walked through my door?
“What
I’m saying is, I have some PTO
and I’m going to call in tomorrow so
I can wake up with you in my arms – if that’s all right with you.”
“Whew,” I said. “I thought I was going to have
to kick you out again.”
He stroked my cheek and laughed. A
good sign. “You don’t mind sleeping on the sofa, do you?” I asked.
He raised his right eyebrow. “Are you still drunk?”
“No.”
“Then,
I’m sleeping in the bed with you
and I plan to add an s to orgasm.”
“Is
that so?”
“As
long as you’re sober because the next time
we start talking about how good I am in bed, I don’t want to hear a word about you being drunk.”
“Good
in bed?”
“As
you recall,” he said. “We didn’t make it to the bed before.”
Rising from the sofa, I stretched
and pushed my booty out in his face. Rich grabbed a cheek and squeezed it
gently. Then he stood behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist as I
straightened my back. Feeling his hardness resting against my butt was a hell
of turn on. All that talk about not sleeping with him and simply hanging out
like two rational adults went out the window. And my panties went straight to
my ankles.
