Really Rashida's Blog, page 17
April 2, 2013
{The Toxic Tour} Rashida Confidential is Back!
The Toxic Tour is moving right along! April starts off with an interview on Rashida's podcast, Rashida Confidential, with guest host Ms. Cream of the Crop of TET Entertainment. Listen below:http://reallyrashida.podomatic.com/entry/2013-03-31T18_59_37-07_00
Puchase 'Toxic' and 'Toxic: The Prequel' now by clicking HERE!
March 30, 2013
{The Toxic Tour} Rashida's Interview with Ey Wade
Today's stop on The Toxic Tour is a feature of Rashida on In the Chair With Ey Wade. There is also a character to character interview with the star of Toxic, Tracey. Check it out!When did you start writing, and what did you write about?
I fell in love with writing when I was about 12 or 13. I started out writing poetry and short stories. You know, those little girly sonnets of love and pain, Lol. I've always loved songwriting, too.
What is the difference in your perception between now and the time you started writing? –When I first started writing I was a young girl struggling to learn who she really was. Now, I'm a grown woman who has learned a lot about the craft and the business of writing. I'm not as naive as I used to be and I take my writing much more seriously now. It's my career, not just a hobby.
To read the rest of the interview CLICK HERE.To read Tracey's interview CLICK HERE.
November 9, 2012
Excerpt From "Toxic"
When I synced my blog here something weird happened with the coding and the html version of the post is showing. Here is the updated, easy to read post.
Andre parked in the lot beside her building and got out. He walked up to the building and pressed the buzzer to her apartment. He pulled out his phone and called Monty back. He didn't answer. Tracey came a few seconds later and let Andre in the building.
"Hey, babe." Tracey grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. She planted a passionate kiss on his lips.
"What's up, love. I see you dressed for some real freaky shit tonight," he said as he looked her up and down. She had on a black satin catsuit that hugged all of her curves. He smacked her on the butt as they walked inside the apartment. She had Sade playing and there was chicken wings frying on the stove.
"Let me take your jacket," Tracey said and held out her hands. Andre took off his jacket and handed it to her. "Have a seat. I'll bring you a drink."
Andre sat on the sofa and kicked off his tennis shoes. He put his feet up and relaxed. This the type of shit I need on a daily, he thought. Tracey sashayed up to him and sat his drink down in front of him. "Let me take this last batch of chicken out. I'll be right back," she said.
Andre picked up the glass of cognac and took a sip. The warm liquor burned his chest a little more than usual. "What's this, Tray? Remy?"
"Yeah," she called from the kitchen.
"I thought so," he said and took another sip.
Tracey came back into the living room and joined him on the sofa. He put his free arm around her. She rubbed his chest and kissed him on the neck. That was his spot so he immediately got aroused. He closed his eyes and took another sip of his drink. Tracey began to rub his love stick through his pants. A soft moan left his lips. He sipped his drink and enjoyed the feeling. Tracey unbuckled Andre's belt and unfastened his pants. Just as she was about to slide her hand down his pants Andre's phone started to ring. He knew it was Monty calling back and got excited. He was out of Woo and needed more badly. He sat his drink down and pushed Tracey off of him so he could get to his phone.
"You down here, Monty?" Andre heard Monty and Sierra arguing with each other. "Hello? Hello? Monty!" Monty didn't answer him. Andre listened and heard Sierra screaming.
"Ask 'em! Ask 'em, Monty! We fucked more than once!"
Monty screamed back. "I got the nigga on the phone now! We gon' see what it is, bitch! Hello?"
Andre's eyes got big. "That hoe lying, bruh!"
"Damn, nigga you ain't even give me a chance to say shit! You must be guilty! You done fucked my BM, hoe ass nigga?!"
"Naw, Monty I swear to God. I ain't never touch that girl."
"You sounding scared as fuck right now, bruh."
"Yeah he scared 'cause he know you gon' fuck his ass up," Sierra screamed in the background.
"Tell that bitch to shut up, Monty. You my nigga, man. I wouldn't ever do no shit like that to you. For real, bruh. For real!"
"I'm a real nigga, Dre. So I'ma check my trap first then holla at you," Monty said then hung up.
~
Tracey was burning up inside. Look at this nigga acting like a bitch, she thought. She didn't hear the details of the conversation but she could tell from Andre's comments that he was being accused of fucking one of Monty's hoes. She continued to rub him. The conversation hadn't affected him at all. He was still hard. She slid her hand into his boxers and massaged his dick as he continued to plead with Monty.
"Yeah, man... I know that hoe crazy!" Andre rubbed Tracey's head and gently pushed it towards his groin. "I'm sittin' here gettin' my shit wet right now, my nigga. I ain't gotta worry 'bout no bitch nowhere else," he said and laughed then pushed Tracey's head again.
Oh, so you want some wet head? She thought. Okay then. I'm gonna make it real wet for you. Tracey pulled his member from his pants. She got on her knees on the couch and bent over. Andre grabbed her ass as she took him into her mouth. She slowly took him in until she felt the head touching her tonsils. Andre got silently instantly. She grabbed his sack and used her tongue to lick it while keeping him deep in her throat.
"I gotta call you back," Andre told Monty then hung up. He dropped his phone and put his head back. He rubbed Tracey's ass and she started sucking up and down his shaft with the precision of a call girl.
"Slow down, babe. Don't make me cum yet."
Tracey ignored him and instead sped up. She kept his sack cuffed in her hand. Andre moaned like a little girl. He rubbed her hair with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other. "You like that, daddy?"
"Hell yeah," he whispered.
"Is it wet enough or you want it wetter?"
"Make it wetter. I want it juicy and wet."
"Okay," Tracey said then gobbled him up once more. She began to lick and kiss the head. When Andre closed his eyes again she bit down on the head of his dick as hard as she could. Andre screamed and snatched on her hair.
"WHAT THE FUCK! STOP! STOP!"
Tracey clamped down even harder. Blood began to trickle into her mouth. She grinded her teeth until she broke completely through the skin.
"OH MY GOD! PLEASE, TRACEY!" He shouted as he yanked on her hair.
She gave one forceful tug and bit the head of his penis completely off. Blood shot up out of it like an erupting volcano. She spit the head on the floor and laughed.
~
"What's so funny?" Andre asked.
"Nothing, I was just thinking about something I saw on TV earlier," Tracey said. She looked down at her hand. Andre's dick was still intact. She sighed wishing her daydream were true. She'd love to pull a Lorena Bobbitt and bite off Andre's head. She smiled at the thought. "What was that all about," she asked changing the subject.
"Don't worry about all that. Worry about him," Andre said and looked down.
Tracey moved her hand and sat up. "Damn, babe. Can we kick it a little bit first? We got good weed, good drank, and good food. We got all night to get it in."
Andre grabbed his drink and gulped down what was left. "You right. Go get me another drink and make me a plate."
Tracey took his glass and went to the kitchen. She sat the glass on the counter and got a plate from the cabinet. Her hands were shaky so she sat the plate down. She looked at the bottle of cognac. She'd already slipped Andre about a shot worth of poison in his first drink. He needed about seven more shots of it for a lethal dose. Tracey grabbed the cognac and poured some in his glass. She leaned down and pulled the poison from under the sink. She poured some in a shot glass and added it to the liquor. She did it once more then added some liquor on top of that then sat it to the side. She made Andre's plate and took it and the drink to him.
When she got back to the living room Andre was looking at his phone. He noticed her and quickly put it down. He looked at her with the most obvious look of guilt. She just smiled and sat his food and drink down on the coffee table in front of him. "You need hot sauce, I know. Want something else," she asked in a sweet and sultry voice.
"Just some pop." Andre gulped down half of his drink. He screwed his face up and grabbed his chest. "Damn! This Remy be hittin'. You gon' be able to take advantage of me tonight."
Tracey giggled. "I sure am." She went to the kitchen and got the hot sauce. Her heard was racing. That was the second time he made a comment about the drink being strong. "Calm down, bitch. Don't panic," she told herself then took the hot sauce to Andre. When she sat the bottle down next to his plate she noticed his glass was empty this reminded her that she forgot to bring his pop.
"I'll be right back with your pop." She hurried to the kitchen and poured some cold Pepsi in a glass and brought it to Andre. He'd already started to eat.
"It is good?"
Andre nodded his head.
"Good." Tracey sat back to watch him eat.
"You ain't eating?"
"I was eating as I was cooking so I'm good, babe" Tracey rubbed Andre's back.
He shrugged his shoulders and went back to his plate. As he ate, Andre told Tracey about how Punkin's neighbor tried to seduce him. "I don't know why these young hoes love me so much," he said in between bites. Tracey just smiled and nodded. Her hatred for Andre grew with every minute that passed. What made him think she wanted to hear about his doings with other females? Shit like this is why he gotta go, she thought.
Andre finished his food and pushed the plate away. He licked his fingers and drank the last of his pop. "That was good. Now all I need is a stick and I'm good."
Tracey gave him the side eye. "You know I don't like how that shit smell."
"I ain't got none of that I'm talkin' 'bout some Kush. You gon' roll it for me?"
"Yeah. Where is it?"
"In my pocket. Go get me a napkin."
Tracey went and got a paper towel from the kitchen and brought it to Andre. He wiped his hands then pulled the sack of weed and a pack of cigarillos from his pockets. Tracey opened the bag and pulled out enough weed for the shell. "This shit smell good right here." She began to break the weed down into little pieces.
"You smoking tonight?" Andre asked.
"Yeah, I'ma hit this. Break that shell down." Andre tore the cigarillo down the middle and stood up and started towards the kitchen.
"I got it." Tracey hopped up and went over to him. She took the cigarillo from him. "You just relax, okay."
"Shit, okay." Andre went back to the couch and sat down. He kicked off his Jordans and pulled his shirt off.
Tracey went to the kitchen and dumped the tobacco out from the cigar into the trash. She licked the paper as she stared at the cabinet where the poison sat. She had to get Andre to drink four more shots of it before the night was over.
"Tray, bring me another drink," Andre called from the living room.
His timing be perfect sometimes, she thought. She went and sat next to Andre on the couch. She rolled the weed in the cigarillo and handed it to him. She picked up his empty glass and plate. He'd finished off the hot sauce so she grabbed the now empty bottle too. Andre rubbed his stomach.
"You full?" Tracey asked him.
He shook his head no. "My shit cramping lightweight."
"Did you eat to much or something?" She played dumb.
"I don't think so. It's not that serious, babe. I'll be alright." Andre pulled out a lighter and lit the blunt.
Tracey went to the kitchen, tossed the hot sauce bottle in the trash, and began to panic. She felt lightheaded so she leaned up against the counter to get her composure. When she does she picks up Andre's plate and scrapes the chicken bones in the trash. Her hands are shaking so badly that she drops the plate on the floor and it broke. "Fuck!" she spat. Tracey got the broom and dustpan and got the glass up. What is wrong with you! Don't fuck this up, she cursed to herself.
Tracey grabbed the cognac and filled Andre's glass halfway. Just as she did before, she added two shots of poison then a little more liquor to the glass. She used her finger to stir the drink then put the bottle back under the counter. Tracey took a deep breath and picked up the glass.
She turned around to leave the kitchen and bumped into Andre who was standing in the doorway. Before Tracey could react he punched her in the stomach with all of his strength. She dropped the glass and doubled over grabbing her stomach. If she had eaten she would have thrown up right there on the floor.
"What the fuck you been puttin' in my drink," he yelled then punched her in the back of the head. He grabbed Tracey by her hair and pulled her up off of the floor. "Huh?! What you put in my drink?!" He punched Tracey in the stomach again and let her fall to the floor. "The fuck you think you gon' do, huh? You wanna see me dead or something?" Andre kicked her in the ribs.
Tracey screamed and grabbed her rib cage. She looked up at Andre and he spit in her face. "I ain't never spit in a bitch face but it's a first time for everything," he said and laughed.
"Ugh!" Tracey slowly wiped her face. She cringed when she felt the slimy saliva on her hand. "Fuck you!" she screamed then tripped his feet from under him with her arm. When Andre fell to the floor Tracey pounced on top of him and started punching him in his face. She busted his nose and blood came running down from it. He knocked her off of him and Tracey tried to crawl away. Andre jumped on Tracey's back, grabbed her head, and banged it in the floor.
"Dre! Wait! I'm sorry, please!" Tracey screamed as she fought to crawl to the trash can. Andre choked her but she didn't give up. She used all of her strength to keep crawling. Once she got close enough she mustered up the rest of the strength she had to get Andre off her back. She flipped him over and climbed on top of him. She reached in the trash and grabbed the empty hot sauce bottle by the neck and swung it at Andre's face. She missed.
"Oh you think you gon' hit me wit a bottle?!" Andre screamed and knocked the bottle from her hand. Luckily for her it didn't go far. Tracey quickly picked the bottle back up and swung it again. This time she connected with his face. A cut opened up under his eye and blood began to gush out. Tracey got up and ran out of the kitchen. She got to the hallway and started toward her bedroom. Andre was right on her heels. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder but she snatched away and kept it moving. When she got to the room he grabbed her by her hair and put his arm around her neck.
"Ain't no way you gettin' away." He squeezed on her neck tightly.
Tracey clawed at his arm with her long nails. She broke the skin and drew blood. Andre still didn't loosen his grip. She felt pressure building up in her head from the lack of oxygen. She knew she didn't have much time before she passed out. She looked over at Andre's gun sitting on her nightstand. She wasn't far from it. All she had to do was take a few steps of one leap and she could grab it.
Andre released Tracey and quickly spun her around. He grabbed her collar and slapped her. "Bitch I'm a kill you and get away with the shit. When they find that bullshit in my system that's proof you was tryna off me first," he said and slapped her again.
Tracey saw little specks of light flash before her eyes. He'd literally made her see stars. "I AM GONNA OFF YOU FIRST, MUTHAFUCKA!" Tracey drew her leg back and kicked Andre square in the balls.
"Bitch!" he yelped and tumbled to the floor. Tracey made it to her nightstand and grabbed Andre's gun. His eyes got big with horror at the sight of Tracey standing over him aiming the gun at his head. Tracey smiled.
"Look at that. You ain't tough with a gun at your head, huh? Stand your bitch ass up."
Andre slowly stood up. He put his hands up in defense. For the first time since she's known Andre Tracey saw real fear in his eyes. His face was covered with blood thanks to his busted nose and deep cut under his eye. "Look, babe..."
Tracey cut him off. "Don't even start with that shit."
He took a step towards her. She removed the gun safety and pulled the slide to chamber a round. Andre started to panic when he saw her cock the gun.
"You know I was just talkin' shit, Tray. I was just tryna scare you." Andre took another step forward.
"If you move again I'm gonna blow your fuckin' face off." Tracey had experience handling guns, but never shot anyone before and she was nervous. Nonetheless, she was ready. She stood aiming the gun at her son's father. He looked pathetic. She laughed. "I won't miss you."
While she was speaking Andre took the opportunity to rush her knocking Tracey to the floor. When her back hit the carpet she accidentally squeezed the trigger of the gun firing a round into the ceiling. The loud bang of the shot scared Andre so much that he jumped up and ran out the room. Tracey got up and ran after him. She caught him in the hallway and shot at him. She missed. He looked back and kept running. She steadied, aimed, and fired again just as Andre got to the front door of her apartment. Tracey fired one final shot as he ran out the door. She heard him scream before he slammed the door behind him.
Tracey went to the door and slowly opened it. She didn't find Andre lying on the floor in agony from a gun shot in the back. She didn't find anything but drops of blood on the floor. Andre got away.
-From "Toxic" Available Black Friday 11/23/2012
Andre parked in the lot beside her building and got out. He walked up to the building and pressed the buzzer to her apartment. He pulled out his phone and called Monty back. He didn't answer. Tracey came a few seconds later and let Andre in the building.
"Hey, babe." Tracey grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. She planted a passionate kiss on his lips.
"What's up, love. I see you dressed for some real freaky shit tonight," he said as he looked her up and down. She had on a black satin catsuit that hugged all of her curves. He smacked her on the butt as they walked inside the apartment. She had Sade playing and there was chicken wings frying on the stove.
"Let me take your jacket," Tracey said and held out her hands. Andre took off his jacket and handed it to her. "Have a seat. I'll bring you a drink."
Andre sat on the sofa and kicked off his tennis shoes. He put his feet up and relaxed. This the type of shit I need on a daily, he thought. Tracey sashayed up to him and sat his drink down in front of him. "Let me take this last batch of chicken out. I'll be right back," she said.
Andre picked up the glass of cognac and took a sip. The warm liquor burned his chest a little more than usual. "What's this, Tray? Remy?"
"Yeah," she called from the kitchen.
"I thought so," he said and took another sip.
Tracey came back into the living room and joined him on the sofa. He put his free arm around her. She rubbed his chest and kissed him on the neck. That was his spot so he immediately got aroused. He closed his eyes and took another sip of his drink. Tracey began to rub his love stick through his pants. A soft moan left his lips. He sipped his drink and enjoyed the feeling. Tracey unbuckled Andre's belt and unfastened his pants. Just as she was about to slide her hand down his pants Andre's phone started to ring. He knew it was Monty calling back and got excited. He was out of Woo and needed more badly. He sat his drink down and pushed Tracey off of him so he could get to his phone.
"You down here, Monty?" Andre heard Monty and Sierra arguing with each other. "Hello? Hello? Monty!" Monty didn't answer him. Andre listened and heard Sierra screaming.
"Ask 'em! Ask 'em, Monty! We fucked more than once!"
Monty screamed back. "I got the nigga on the phone now! We gon' see what it is, bitch! Hello?"
Andre's eyes got big. "That hoe lying, bruh!"
"Damn, nigga you ain't even give me a chance to say shit! You must be guilty! You done fucked my BM, hoe ass nigga?!"
"Naw, Monty I swear to God. I ain't never touch that girl."
"You sounding scared as fuck right now, bruh."
"Yeah he scared 'cause he know you gon' fuck his ass up," Sierra screamed in the background.
"Tell that bitch to shut up, Monty. You my nigga, man. I wouldn't ever do no shit like that to you. For real, bruh. For real!"
"I'm a real nigga, Dre. So I'ma check my trap first then holla at you," Monty said then hung up.
~
Tracey was burning up inside. Look at this nigga acting like a bitch, she thought. She didn't hear the details of the conversation but she could tell from Andre's comments that he was being accused of fucking one of Monty's hoes. She continued to rub him. The conversation hadn't affected him at all. He was still hard. She slid her hand into his boxers and massaged his dick as he continued to plead with Monty.
"Yeah, man... I know that hoe crazy!" Andre rubbed Tracey's head and gently pushed it towards his groin. "I'm sittin' here gettin' my shit wet right now, my nigga. I ain't gotta worry 'bout no bitch nowhere else," he said and laughed then pushed Tracey's head again.
Oh, so you want some wet head? She thought. Okay then. I'm gonna make it real wet for you. Tracey pulled his member from his pants. She got on her knees on the couch and bent over. Andre grabbed her ass as she took him into her mouth. She slowly took him in until she felt the head touching her tonsils. Andre got silently instantly. She grabbed his sack and used her tongue to lick it while keeping him deep in her throat.
"I gotta call you back," Andre told Monty then hung up. He dropped his phone and put his head back. He rubbed Tracey's ass and she started sucking up and down his shaft with the precision of a call girl.
"Slow down, babe. Don't make me cum yet."
Tracey ignored him and instead sped up. She kept his sack cuffed in her hand. Andre moaned like a little girl. He rubbed her hair with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other. "You like that, daddy?"
"Hell yeah," he whispered.
"Is it wet enough or you want it wetter?"
"Make it wetter. I want it juicy and wet."
"Okay," Tracey said then gobbled him up once more. She began to lick and kiss the head. When Andre closed his eyes again she bit down on the head of his dick as hard as she could. Andre screamed and snatched on her hair.
"WHAT THE FUCK! STOP! STOP!"
Tracey clamped down even harder. Blood began to trickle into her mouth. She grinded her teeth until she broke completely through the skin.
"OH MY GOD! PLEASE, TRACEY!" He shouted as he yanked on her hair.
She gave one forceful tug and bit the head of his penis completely off. Blood shot up out of it like an erupting volcano. She spit the head on the floor and laughed.
~
"What's so funny?" Andre asked.
"Nothing, I was just thinking about something I saw on TV earlier," Tracey said. She looked down at her hand. Andre's dick was still intact. She sighed wishing her daydream were true. She'd love to pull a Lorena Bobbitt and bite off Andre's head. She smiled at the thought. "What was that all about," she asked changing the subject.
"Don't worry about all that. Worry about him," Andre said and looked down.
Tracey moved her hand and sat up. "Damn, babe. Can we kick it a little bit first? We got good weed, good drank, and good food. We got all night to get it in."
Andre grabbed his drink and gulped down what was left. "You right. Go get me another drink and make me a plate."
Tracey took his glass and went to the kitchen. She sat the glass on the counter and got a plate from the cabinet. Her hands were shaky so she sat the plate down. She looked at the bottle of cognac. She'd already slipped Andre about a shot worth of poison in his first drink. He needed about seven more shots of it for a lethal dose. Tracey grabbed the cognac and poured some in his glass. She leaned down and pulled the poison from under the sink. She poured some in a shot glass and added it to the liquor. She did it once more then added some liquor on top of that then sat it to the side. She made Andre's plate and took it and the drink to him.
When she got back to the living room Andre was looking at his phone. He noticed her and quickly put it down. He looked at her with the most obvious look of guilt. She just smiled and sat his food and drink down on the coffee table in front of him. "You need hot sauce, I know. Want something else," she asked in a sweet and sultry voice.
"Just some pop." Andre gulped down half of his drink. He screwed his face up and grabbed his chest. "Damn! This Remy be hittin'. You gon' be able to take advantage of me tonight."
Tracey giggled. "I sure am." She went to the kitchen and got the hot sauce. Her heard was racing. That was the second time he made a comment about the drink being strong. "Calm down, bitch. Don't panic," she told herself then took the hot sauce to Andre. When she sat the bottle down next to his plate she noticed his glass was empty this reminded her that she forgot to bring his pop.
"I'll be right back with your pop." She hurried to the kitchen and poured some cold Pepsi in a glass and brought it to Andre. He'd already started to eat.
"It is good?"
Andre nodded his head.
"Good." Tracey sat back to watch him eat.
"You ain't eating?"
"I was eating as I was cooking so I'm good, babe" Tracey rubbed Andre's back.
He shrugged his shoulders and went back to his plate. As he ate, Andre told Tracey about how Punkin's neighbor tried to seduce him. "I don't know why these young hoes love me so much," he said in between bites. Tracey just smiled and nodded. Her hatred for Andre grew with every minute that passed. What made him think she wanted to hear about his doings with other females? Shit like this is why he gotta go, she thought.
Andre finished his food and pushed the plate away. He licked his fingers and drank the last of his pop. "That was good. Now all I need is a stick and I'm good."
Tracey gave him the side eye. "You know I don't like how that shit smell."
"I ain't got none of that I'm talkin' 'bout some Kush. You gon' roll it for me?"
"Yeah. Where is it?"
"In my pocket. Go get me a napkin."
Tracey went and got a paper towel from the kitchen and brought it to Andre. He wiped his hands then pulled the sack of weed and a pack of cigarillos from his pockets. Tracey opened the bag and pulled out enough weed for the shell. "This shit smell good right here." She began to break the weed down into little pieces.
"You smoking tonight?" Andre asked.
"Yeah, I'ma hit this. Break that shell down." Andre tore the cigarillo down the middle and stood up and started towards the kitchen.
"I got it." Tracey hopped up and went over to him. She took the cigarillo from him. "You just relax, okay."
"Shit, okay." Andre went back to the couch and sat down. He kicked off his Jordans and pulled his shirt off.
Tracey went to the kitchen and dumped the tobacco out from the cigar into the trash. She licked the paper as she stared at the cabinet where the poison sat. She had to get Andre to drink four more shots of it before the night was over.
"Tray, bring me another drink," Andre called from the living room.
His timing be perfect sometimes, she thought. She went and sat next to Andre on the couch. She rolled the weed in the cigarillo and handed it to him. She picked up his empty glass and plate. He'd finished off the hot sauce so she grabbed the now empty bottle too. Andre rubbed his stomach.
"You full?" Tracey asked him.
He shook his head no. "My shit cramping lightweight."
"Did you eat to much or something?" She played dumb.
"I don't think so. It's not that serious, babe. I'll be alright." Andre pulled out a lighter and lit the blunt.
Tracey went to the kitchen, tossed the hot sauce bottle in the trash, and began to panic. She felt lightheaded so she leaned up against the counter to get her composure. When she does she picks up Andre's plate and scrapes the chicken bones in the trash. Her hands are shaking so badly that she drops the plate on the floor and it broke. "Fuck!" she spat. Tracey got the broom and dustpan and got the glass up. What is wrong with you! Don't fuck this up, she cursed to herself.
Tracey grabbed the cognac and filled Andre's glass halfway. Just as she did before, she added two shots of poison then a little more liquor to the glass. She used her finger to stir the drink then put the bottle back under the counter. Tracey took a deep breath and picked up the glass.
She turned around to leave the kitchen and bumped into Andre who was standing in the doorway. Before Tracey could react he punched her in the stomach with all of his strength. She dropped the glass and doubled over grabbing her stomach. If she had eaten she would have thrown up right there on the floor.
"What the fuck you been puttin' in my drink," he yelled then punched her in the back of the head. He grabbed Tracey by her hair and pulled her up off of the floor. "Huh?! What you put in my drink?!" He punched Tracey in the stomach again and let her fall to the floor. "The fuck you think you gon' do, huh? You wanna see me dead or something?" Andre kicked her in the ribs.
Tracey screamed and grabbed her rib cage. She looked up at Andre and he spit in her face. "I ain't never spit in a bitch face but it's a first time for everything," he said and laughed.
"Ugh!" Tracey slowly wiped her face. She cringed when she felt the slimy saliva on her hand. "Fuck you!" she screamed then tripped his feet from under him with her arm. When Andre fell to the floor Tracey pounced on top of him and started punching him in his face. She busted his nose and blood came running down from it. He knocked her off of him and Tracey tried to crawl away. Andre jumped on Tracey's back, grabbed her head, and banged it in the floor.
"Dre! Wait! I'm sorry, please!" Tracey screamed as she fought to crawl to the trash can. Andre choked her but she didn't give up. She used all of her strength to keep crawling. Once she got close enough she mustered up the rest of the strength she had to get Andre off her back. She flipped him over and climbed on top of him. She reached in the trash and grabbed the empty hot sauce bottle by the neck and swung it at Andre's face. She missed.
"Oh you think you gon' hit me wit a bottle?!" Andre screamed and knocked the bottle from her hand. Luckily for her it didn't go far. Tracey quickly picked the bottle back up and swung it again. This time she connected with his face. A cut opened up under his eye and blood began to gush out. Tracey got up and ran out of the kitchen. She got to the hallway and started toward her bedroom. Andre was right on her heels. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder but she snatched away and kept it moving. When she got to the room he grabbed her by her hair and put his arm around her neck.
"Ain't no way you gettin' away." He squeezed on her neck tightly.
Tracey clawed at his arm with her long nails. She broke the skin and drew blood. Andre still didn't loosen his grip. She felt pressure building up in her head from the lack of oxygen. She knew she didn't have much time before she passed out. She looked over at Andre's gun sitting on her nightstand. She wasn't far from it. All she had to do was take a few steps of one leap and she could grab it.
Andre released Tracey and quickly spun her around. He grabbed her collar and slapped her. "Bitch I'm a kill you and get away with the shit. When they find that bullshit in my system that's proof you was tryna off me first," he said and slapped her again.
Tracey saw little specks of light flash before her eyes. He'd literally made her see stars. "I AM GONNA OFF YOU FIRST, MUTHAFUCKA!" Tracey drew her leg back and kicked Andre square in the balls.
"Bitch!" he yelped and tumbled to the floor. Tracey made it to her nightstand and grabbed Andre's gun. His eyes got big with horror at the sight of Tracey standing over him aiming the gun at his head. Tracey smiled.
"Look at that. You ain't tough with a gun at your head, huh? Stand your bitch ass up."
Andre slowly stood up. He put his hands up in defense. For the first time since she's known Andre Tracey saw real fear in his eyes. His face was covered with blood thanks to his busted nose and deep cut under his eye. "Look, babe..."
Tracey cut him off. "Don't even start with that shit."
He took a step towards her. She removed the gun safety and pulled the slide to chamber a round. Andre started to panic when he saw her cock the gun.
"You know I was just talkin' shit, Tray. I was just tryna scare you." Andre took another step forward.
"If you move again I'm gonna blow your fuckin' face off." Tracey had experience handling guns, but never shot anyone before and she was nervous. Nonetheless, she was ready. She stood aiming the gun at her son's father. He looked pathetic. She laughed. "I won't miss you."
While she was speaking Andre took the opportunity to rush her knocking Tracey to the floor. When her back hit the carpet she accidentally squeezed the trigger of the gun firing a round into the ceiling. The loud bang of the shot scared Andre so much that he jumped up and ran out the room. Tracey got up and ran after him. She caught him in the hallway and shot at him. She missed. He looked back and kept running. She steadied, aimed, and fired again just as Andre got to the front door of her apartment. Tracey fired one final shot as he ran out the door. She heard him scream before he slammed the door behind him.
Tracey went to the door and slowly opened it. She didn't find Andre lying on the floor in agony from a gun shot in the back. She didn't find anything but drops of blood on the floor. Andre got away.
-From "Toxic" Available Black Friday 11/23/2012
October 22, 2012
Check Me Out On Ustream!
I'll be on doing my very first Ustream broadcast tonight and I wanna see you there. I have a some big announcements to make and a special guest will be joining me.I'm kicking the broadcast off at 8:30 pm Eastern Time/7:30 pm Central. Here's the link:
http://www.ustream.tv/channel/really-rashida-on-ustream
See you then,
Ra :)
Check Out this Excerpt of "Toxic"
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝"; panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:fixed; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝"; panose-1:0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0; mso-font-charset:128; mso-generic-font-family:roman; mso-font-format:other; mso-font-pitch:fixed; mso-font-signature:1 134676480 16 0 131072 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:-536870145 1073743103 0 0 415 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-unhide:no; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} .MsoChpDefault {mso-style-type:export-only; mso-default-props:yes; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"ＭＳ 明朝"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} @page WordSection1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.WordSection1 {page:WordSection1;} </style> <a href="https://www.box.com/s/tdgy3wheoalsbqu..." target="_blank">CLICK HERE TO DOWNLOAD PDF FILE OF THE EXCERPT</a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre parked in the lot beside her building and got out. He walked up to the building and pressed the buzzer to her apartment. He pulled out his phone and called Monty back. He didn't answer. Tracey came a few seconds later and let Andre in the building. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hey, babe." Tracey grabbed his shirt and pulled him to her. She planted a passionate kiss on his lips. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What's up, love. I see you dressed for some real freaky shit tonight," he said as he looked her up and down. She had on a black satin catsuit that hugged all of her curves. He smacked her on the butt as they walked inside the apartment. She had Sade playing and there was chicken wings frying on the stove. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Let me take your jacket," Tracey said and held out her hands. Andre took off his jacket and handed it to her. "Have a seat. I'll bring you a drink." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre sat on the sofa and kicked off his tennis shoes. He put his feet up and relaxed. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">This the type of shit I need on a daily, </i>he thought. Tracey sashayed up to him and sat his drink down in front of him. "Let me take this last batch of chicken out. I'll be right back," she said.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre picked up the glass of cognac and took a sip. The warm liquor burned his chest a little more than usual. "What's this, Tray? Remy?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah," she called from the kitchen. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I thought so," he said and took another sip. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey came back into the living room and joined him on the sofa. He put his free arm around her. She rubbed his chest and kissed him on the neck. That was his spot so he immediately got aroused. He closed his eyes and took another sip of his drink. Tracey began to rub his love stick through his pants. A soft moan left his lips. He sipped his drink and enjoyed the feeling. Tracey unbuckled Andre's belt and unfastened his pants. Just as she was about to slide her hand down his pants Andre's phone started to ring. He knew it was Monty calling back and got excited. He was out of Woo and needed more badly. He sat his drink down and pushed Tracey off of him so he could get to his phone. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You down here, Monty?" Andre heard Monty and Sierra arguing with each other. "Hello? Hello? Monty!" Monty didn't answer him. Andre listened and heard Sierra screaming.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ask 'em! Ask 'em, Monty! We fucked more than once!"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Monty screamed back. "I got the nigga on the phone now! We gon' see what it is, bitch! Hello?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre's eyes got big. "That hoe lying, bruh!"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Damn, nigga you ain't even give me a chance to say shit! You must be guilty! You done fucked my BM, hoe ass nigga?!"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Naw, Monty I swear to God. I ain't never touch that girl."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You sounding scared as fuck right now, bruh."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah he scared 'cause he know you gon' fuck his ass up," Sierra screamed in the background.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Tell that bitch to shut up, Monty. You my nigga, man. I wouldn't ever do no shit like that to you. For real, bruh. For real!"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I'm a real nigga, Dre. So I'ma check my trap first then holla at you," Monty said then hung up. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">~</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Tracey was burning up inside. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Look at this nigga acting like a bitch, </i>she thought. She didn't hear the details of the conversation but she could tell from Andre's comments that he was being accused of fucking one of Monty's hoes. She continued to rub him. The conversation hadn't affected him at all. He was still hard. She slid her hand into his boxers and massaged his dick as he continued to plead with Monty. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, man... I know that hoe crazy!" Andre rubbed Tracey's head and gently pushed it towards his groin. "I'm sittin' here gettin' my shit wet right now, my nigga. I ain't gotta worry 'bout no bitch nowhere else," he said and laughed then pushed Tracey's head again.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh, so you want some wet head? </i>She thought. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Okay then. I'm gonna make it real wet for you. </i>Tracey pulled his member from his pants. She got on her knees on the couch and bent over. Andre grabbed her ass as she took him into her mouth. She slowly took him in until she felt the head touching her tonsils. Andre got silently instantly. She grabbed his sack and used her tongue to lick it while keeping him deep in her throat. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I gotta call you back," Andre told Monty then hung up. He dropped his phone and put his head back. He rubbed Tracey's ass and she started sucking up and down his shaft with the precision of a call girl. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Slow down, babe. Don't make me cum yet."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey ignored him and instead sped up. She kept his sack cuffed in her hand. Andre moaned like a little girl. He rubbed her hair with one hand and squeezed her ass with the other. "You like that, daddy?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Hell yeah," he whispered. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Is it wet enough or you want it wetter?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Make it wetter. I want it juicy and wet."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Okay," Tracey said then gobbled him up once more. She began to lick and kiss the head. When Andre closed his eyes again she bit down on the head of his dick as hard as she could. Andre screamed and snatched on her hair.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"WHAT THE FUCK! STOP! STOP!"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey clamped down even harder. Blood began to trickle into her mouth. She grinded her teeth until she broke completely through the skin.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"OH MY GOD! PLEASE, TRACEY!" He shouted as he yanked on her hair. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She gave one forceful tug and bit the head of his penis completely off. Blood shot up out of it like an erupting volcano. She spit the head on the floor and laughed. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">~</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">"What's so funny?" Andre asked. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Nothing, I was just thinking about something I saw on TV earlier," Tracey said. She looked down at her hand. Andre's dick was still intact. She sighed wishing her daydream were true. She'd love to pull a Lorena Bobbitt and bite off Andre's head. She smiled at the thought. "What was that all about," she asked changing the subject.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Don't worry about all that. Worry about him," Andre said and looked down. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey moved her hand and sat up. "Damn, babe. Can we kick it a little bit first? We got good weed, good drank, and good food. We got all night to get it in." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre grabbed his drink and gulped down what was left. "You right. Go get me another drink and make me a plate." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey took his glass and went to the kitchen. She sat the glass on the counter and got a plate from the cabinet. Her hands were shaky so she sat the plate down. She looked at the bottle of cognac. She'd already slipped Andre about a shot worth of poison in his first drink. He needed about seven more shots of it for a lethal dose. Tracey grabbed the cognac and poured some in his glass. She leaned down and pulled the poison from under the sink. She poured some in a shot glass and added it to the liquor. She did it once more then added some liquor on top of that then sat it to the side. She made Andre's plate and took it and the drink to him. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When she got back to the living room Andre was looking at his phone. He noticed her and quickly put it down. He looked at her with the most obvious look of guilt. She just smiled and sat his food and drink down on the coffee table in front of him. "You need hot sauce, I know. Want something else," she asked in a sweet and sultry voice. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Just some pop." Andre gulped down half of his drink. He screwed his face up and grabbed his chest. "Damn! This Remy be hittin'. You gon' be able to take advantage of me tonight." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey giggled. "I sure am." She went to the kitchen and got the hot sauce. Her heard was racing. That was the second time he made a comment about the drink being strong. "Calm down, bitch. Don't panic," she told herself then took the hot sauce to Andre. When she sat the bottle down next to his plate she noticed his glass was empty this reminded her that she forgot to bring his pop. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I'll be right back with your pop." She hurried to the kitchen and poured some cold Pepsi in a glass and brought it to Andre. He'd already started to eat. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"It is good?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre nodded his head. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Good." Tracey sat back to watch him eat.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You ain't eating?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I was eating as I was cooking so I'm good, babe" Tracey rubbed Andre's back.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He shrugged his shoulders and went back to his plate. As he ate, Andre told Tracey about how Punkin's neighbor tried to seduce him. "I don't know why these young hoes love me so much," he said in between bites. Tracey just smiled and nodded. Her hatred for Andre grew with every minute that passed. What made him think she wanted to hear about his doings with other females? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shit like this is why he gotta go,</i> she thought. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre finished his food and pushed the plate away. He licked his fingers and drank the last of his pop. "That was good. Now all I need is a stick and I'm good."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey gave him the side eye. "You know I don't like how that shit smell."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I ain't got none of that I'm talkin' 'bout some Kush. You gon' roll it for me?"</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah. Where is it?" </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"In my pocket. Go get me a napkin."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey went and got a paper towel from the kitchen and brought it to Andre. He wiped his hands then pulled the sack of weed and a pack of cigarillos from his pockets. Tracey opened the bag and pulled out enough weed for the shell. "This shit smell good right here." She began to break the weed down into little pieces. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You smoking tonight?" Andre asked.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Yeah, I'ma hit this. Break that shell down." Andre tore the cigarillo down the middle and stood up and started towards the kitchen. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I got it." Tracey hopped up and went over to him. She took the cigarillo from him. "You just relax, okay." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Shit, okay." Andre went back to the couch and sat down. He kicked off his Jordans and pulled his shirt off. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey went to the kitchen and dumped the tobacco out from the cigar into the trash. She licked the paper as she stared at the cabinet where the poison sat. She had to get Andre to drink four more shots of it before the night was over. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Tray, bring me another drink," Andre called from the living room. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">His timing be perfect sometimes, </i>she thought. She went and sat next to Andre on the couch. She rolled the weed in the cigarillo and handed it to him. She picked up his empty glass and plate. He'd finished off the hot sauce so she grabbed the now empty bottle too. Andre rubbed his stomach. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You full?" Tracey asked him.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He shook his head no. "My shit cramping lightweight."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Did you eat to much or something?" She played dumb.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"I don't think so. It's not that serious, babe. I'll be alright." Andre pulled out a lighter and lit the blunt. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey went to the kitchen, tossed the hot sauce bottle in the trash, and began to panic. She felt lightheaded so she leaned up against the counter to get her composure. When she does she picks up Andre's plate and scrapes the chicken bones in the trash. Her hands are shaking so badly that she drops the plate on the floor and it broke. "Fuck!" she spat. Tracey got the broom and dustpan and got the glass up. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What is wrong with you! Don't fuck this up, </i>she cursed to herself. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey grabbed the cognac and filled Andre's glass halfway. Just as she did before, she added two shots of poison then a little more liquor to the glass. She used her finger to stir the drink then put the bottle back under the counter. Tracey took a deep breath and picked up the glass. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She turned around to leave the kitchen and bumped into Andre who was standing in the doorway. Before Tracey could react he punched her in the stomach with all of his strength. She dropped the glass and doubled over grabbing her stomach. If she had eaten she would have thrown up right there on the floor. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"What the fuck you been puttin' in my drink," he yelled then punched her in the back of the head. He grabbed Tracey by her hair and pulled her up off of the floor. "Huh?! What you put in my drink?!" He punched Tracey in the stomach again and let her fall to the floor. "The fuck you think you gon' do, huh? You wanna see me dead or something?" Andre kicked her in the ribs.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey screamed and grabbed her rib cage. She looked up at Andre and he spit in her face. "I ain't never spit in a bitch face but it's a first time for everything," he said and laughed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ugh!" Tracey slowly wiped her face. She cringed when she felt the slimy saliva on her hand. "Fuck you!" she screamed then tripped his feet from under him with her arm. When Andre fell to the floor Tracey pounced on top of him and started punching him in his face. She busted his nose and blood came running down from it. He knocked her off of him and Tracey tried to crawl away. Andre jumped on Tracey's back, grabbed her head, and banged it in the floor. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Dre! Wait! I'm sorry, please!" Tracey screamed as she fought to crawl to the trash can. Andre choked her but she didn't give up. She used all of her strength to keep crawling. Once she got close enough she mustered up the rest of the strength she had to get Andre off her back. She flipped him over and climbed on top of him. She reached in the trash and grabbed the empty hot sauce bottle by the neck and swung it at Andre's face. She missed.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Oh you think you gon' hit me wit a bottle?!" Andre screamed and knocked the bottle from her hand. Luckily for her it didn't go far. Tracey quickly picked the bottle back up and swung it again. This time she connected with his face. A cut opened up under his eye and blood began to gush out. Tracey got up and ran out of the kitchen. She got to the hallway and started toward her bedroom. Andre was right on her heels. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder but she snatched away and kept it moving. When she got to the room he grabbed her by her hair and put his arm around her neck.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Ain't no way you gettin' away." He squeezed on her neck tightly.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey clawed at his arm with her long nails. She broke the skin and drew blood. Andre still didn't loosen his grip. She felt pressure building up in her head from the lack of oxygen. She knew she didn't have much time before she passed out. She looked over at Andre's gun sitting on her nightstand. She wasn't far from it. All she had to do was take a few steps of one leap and she could grab it. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre released Tracey and quickly spun her around. He grabbed her collar and slapped her. "Bitch I'm a kill you and get away with the shit. When they find that bullshit in my system that's proof you was tryna off me first," he said and slapped her again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey saw little specks of light flash before her eyes. He'd literally made her see stars. "I AM GONNA OFF YOU FIRST, MUTHAFUCKA!" Tracey drew her leg back and kicked Andre square in the balls. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Bitch!" he yelped and tumbled to the floor. Tracey made it to her nightstand and grabbed Andre's gun. His eyes got big with horror at the sight of Tracey standing over him aiming the gun at his head. Tracey smiled.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"Look at that. You ain't tough with a gun at your head, huh? Stand your bitch ass up."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Andre slowly stood up. He put his hands up in defense. For the first time since she's known Andre Tracey saw real fear in his eyes. His face was covered with blood thanks to his busted nose and deep cut under his eye. "Look, babe..."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey cut him off. "Don't even start with that shit."</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He took a step towards her. She removed the gun safety and pulled the slide to chamber a round. Andre started to panic when he saw her cock the gun. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"You know I was just talkin' shit, Tray. I was just tryna scare you." Andre took another step forward. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>"If you move again I'm gonna blow your fuckin' face off." Tracey had experience handling guns, but never shot anyone before and she was nervous. Nonetheless, she was ready. She stood aiming the gun at her son's father. He looked pathetic. She laughed. "I won't miss you." </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>While she was speaking Andre took the opportunity to rush her knocking Tracey to the floor. When her back hit the carpet she accidentally squeezed the trigger of the gun firing a round into the ceiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The loud bang of the shot scared Andre so much that he jumped up and ran out the room. Tracey got up and ran after him. She caught him in the hallway and shot at him. She missed. He looked back and kept running. She steadied, aimed, and fired again just as Andre got to the front door of her apartment. Tracey fired one final shot as he ran out the door. She heard him scream before he slammed the door behind him. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Tracey went to the door and slowly opened it. She didn't find Andre lying on the floor in agony from a gun shot in the back. She didn't find anything but drops of blood on the floor. Andre got away. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"> -From "Toxic" Available Black Friday 11/23/2012</div><br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com...' alt='' /></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/RawCha..." height="1" width="1"/>
October 8, 2012
'Toxic' Official Cover Art
COMING NOVEMBER 2012
February 14, 2012
"Stalking Saint Valentine"
Photo CreditHappy Valentine's Day! As promised, here is my gift to you. It's a short story I wrote called Stalking Saint Valentine.
Emily has a crush on her neighbor and today is the day she let's him know...
Emily stepped in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the bathroom door. She smiled at the beauty she saw before her. The new tattoo on her chest, which read “Love Thy Self" was healing nicely. Even with the bruise on her right cheek from last night’s fight at work she believed she was perfect. Part of becoming the reborn Emily meant doing away with her old inferiority complex. The other barmaids at the lounge where she worked picked on her constantly. When she went to work last night and Amy, he main tormenter, bumped Emily purposely making her spill beer all over herself, she grabbed Amy by the throat and beat her senseless. It made Emily feel damn good, too. “Today’s the day I get my man. This is going to be one hell of a Valentine's day.” Emily said aloud to herself. She gave herself one more look over then went to her bedroom to get dressed for the day.
“You’re a one hundred percent, free man. How does it feel?” the probation officer asked. “It feels good, man. Real good,” Rashaun said rubbing his now vacant ankle. The probation officer laughed. “So what are you going to do now that you’re off house arrest?” “I don’t know… Maybe go watch the game somewhere. Find a lil’ chick to get up in. Who knows, man.” “Well, as long as you have some fun today I’m fine. In all of my years as a probation officer I have never had a guy with your history do so well. You earned your freedom so enjoy it.” Rashaun smiled. “Thanks a lot, man.” “You’re welcome. I’ll be back in a month for your last visit. Take care,” the probation officer said and left. Rashaun sat on his couch and took a few deep breaths. His probation officer was right. He had worked hard for his freedom this time and he needed to enjoy it. After three years with no female contact, Rashaun wanted to get some. That chick Emily who lived down the hall entered his mind and he smiled. She'd been watching him since she moved in a few months back. He could tell by the way she looked him dead in his eyes whenever she saw him that she wanted to give him some. “Why not?” Rashaun said.
“I look so good,” Emily said as she checked herself out in the mirror. This was the first time she’d worn the red, form fitting dress and heels since she’d bought them. Her hair was perfect with not a strand out of place and her makeup was flawless. Emily’s plan was to catch Rashaun, her neighbor and the building maintenance man, while he was making his rounds. She’d say her sink was broken to get him in her apartment then, once she got him alone, she'd give herself to him wrapped in nothing but a big, red bow. Emily heard her cell phone ringing so she picked it up from her nightstand and answered it. “What’s up Mike Tyson?” “Very funny, Jenn.” Emily said to her best friend and co-worker. Jennifer laughed. “Hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em. What you got planned for today? I’m bored and I’m desperate for something to do.” “I’m making my move on Rashaun today, remember?” “Seriously, Em? I can’t believe you really like that creepy janitor.” “He’s not creepy. He’s mysterious… He’s kind of scary, but he’s so sexy.” “He is sexy. I can’t deny that. I guess that means I have to be fake and spend the day with one of my other so-called friends,” Jennifer said. “Sorry, boo. Looks that way." "Happy anniversary, girl." Emily rubbed her hand across her tattoo. "You remembered... Thanks." "Of course I did. Honestly, Em, how are you feeling?" "Reborn. Free. I finally feel like plain old Emily again. Not Emily the girl that got raped on Valentine's Day," she said. "Well, I hope all goes well with you and your janitor sex slave. You don't need anything crazy to happen today." "I heard that," Emily said and giggled. “Alright. Good luck, Em... And be careful.” “I will. Love you,” “Love you, too.” Jenn replied then hung up. Emily needed some candles with the perfect scent. She figured the Nigerian boutique down the street would have some with the perfect scent. Something sweet and seductive. Since the walk there and back would only take 15 minutes, she decided not to drive her car. Before leaving, Emily grabbed her pistol from the nightstand drawer and tucked it away in her purse. When she stepped out onto the busy street and started towards the African store, Emily noticed Rashaun a few feet ahead of her. “I wonder where he’s going,” she thought then proceeded to follow him. Even from the back Rashaun was sexy. You could tell that his body was perfectly sculpted under his clothes. Emily wondered if his back was as strong and powerful as it looked. “I’ll know tonight,” she said. Emily continued to follow Rashaun making sure not to trail too close. She watched him follow a woman into an alleyway. “Who the hell is that?” she wondered.
“Take it, take it!” the woman said in a panic. She closed her eyes tight. “I don’t see anything, I don’t know what you look like! Please don’t hurt me! I promise not to tell the police about this, just please don’t hurt me!” The woman began to sob. Rashaun tightened his grip around her throat. “Shut up and empty your purse!” The woman opened her purse, removed her wallet, and handed it to him. Rashaun knocked the wallet out of her hand. “I don’t want that! I said empty your purse! Turn it over and dump everything out now!”The woman did as he said and emptied the contents of her Louis Vuitton purse. Rashaun snatched the purse from her and let her go. The woman thanked him and ran off.
“What the hell?” Emily said. She had just watched Rashaun steal a woman’s purse. An empty one. Once he exited the alley, Rashaun jogged down the block to the drug store. Emily trailed him and followed him inside.Luckily for Emily the store was pretty busy. There were people everywhere so it was easy for her to blend in and follow Rashaun without being detected. He walked through the aisles looking carefully at the items they held. To Emily it was as if he’d never been in a store before. When he got to the aisle with the greeting cards, he looked through them until he found one he liked and put it in the stolen purse. “Oh my goodness,” she asked herself.Next, Rashaun went back to the pharmacy counter. Surprisingly, there weren’t any customers waiting for prescriptions. He went up to the counter and drew a gun. “Give me everything in the register,” she heard him say.The frightened pharmacy tech did as Rashaun asked quickly then he turned and ran towards where Emily was standing. She quickly turned her back to him. He brushed past her without noticing her. Once she got her heartbeat to slow down, Emily went after Rashaun. When she realized that she might look suspicious she slowed to a walk. “Excuse me. I love your dress. Where did you get it from?” The cashier asked and looked Emily up and down.“A store downtown. I don’t remember the name “You sure? It’s really nice. I’m looking for something to wear for my birthday party this weekend.”Emily ignored her and left the store. She didn’t want to lose Rashaun.
“That was easy,” Rashaun said as he approached his apartment building. He’d managed to get everything he wanted without difficulty. Now he could focus on relaxing and having some fun.
Emily watched as Rashaun entered their apartment building. She was glad his little crime spree was over. She didn’t get the way she was feeling. This man was a criminal and she watched him commit crimes. There was still something about him that intrigued her. Emily found Rashaun kneeling in front of her apartment door. Scenes from the night she was raped flashed before her eyes and she began to panic.“Oh, my God!” she whispered. Rashaun looked around and drew his gun before entering Emily's apartment.Once Rashaun got into her apartment she drew her gun from her purse and tiptoed over to the door. He’d left the door standing wide open so she could see him standing in the middle of her living room floor looking around, taking in all of the details of her apartment. "I need you to answer this one question, Rashaun..." Before he could turn around, Emily let off two shots dropping Rashaun to the floor.Rashaun lay lifeless on the floor of Emily’s living room. She went over to him and poked him with her foot to make sure he was dead. “Why… Why were you going to hurt me? Emily picked up the stolen purse and looked at its contents. Inside there was the stolen money, card, and some flowers. “I don’t remember seeing him get flowers,” Emily thought. She opened the card and read it.
Emily, I been feeling you for a while. I hope you accept the flowers, money, and purse as a token of my love.
Yours truly, Rashaun.
February 11, 2012
Will You Be My Valentine?
Photo CreditThank you so much to all of you for taking the time to read my books, short stories, and blog posts. To all of my Twitter followers and Facebook friends I appreciate you! Your love and support keeps me going.I am very proud to say that since the official release of my ebook From Bruises To Beauty on January 2, 2012 there have been over 500 downloads. Most of the feedback has been good, so thanks. I've listened to your tweets, comments, and emails. I know that you're itching to know what happens to Tracey and Andre. You're also wondering when I'll have some new material for you to read. Since I love all of you so much I've decided to make you guys my Valentines. In honor of this special day I have three very special treats to share with you on February 14th that you will absolutely love.It's a surprise so you're gonna have to subscribe to the blog now or check back here on Valentine's Day to collect your gift. See you then...P.S. I have more gifts coming where these come from. Make sure you put your email in the box to the right of this post to subscribe and get all of the updates as soon as I post them.
August 11, 2011
Her Untold Truth: Sandra's Story (FROM BRUISES TO BEAUTY)
Live for today, because tomorrow's not promised. Sandra lives by this motto. It hits closer to home for her than the average person. Beautiful and confident on the outside, Sandra is the perfect mentor to the girls she helps. She gives them all the best advice and tells them the truth, no sugar coating, about the realities of being a successful, black woman in this world. But the real Sandra isn't revealed by what she says. It's what she doesn't say that holds the key to her happiness...
"Why in the hell do doctors' appointments take so long?!" Sandra thought as she sat anxiously in the waiting room of her doctor's office. As she fidgeted and bit her nails she continued to think. "I mean, you'd think because they're dealing with sick people, they'd move with some sense of urgency. I've been coming here every month for over a year. Don't I get priority treatment?" She looked up at the wall clock above the front desk. She'd only been waiting for half an hour. Sandra bit some of her pinky nail and spit it across the room. "Ugh! I really need to quit doing this." she thought then shoved her hands in the pockets of her denim leggins. That 30 minutes felt more like 30 hours! By now, Sandra thought she'd be used to the waiting. Unfortunately, coming to get checked out never got easier. "Ms. Cole?" The medical secretary called from behind the desk. "Right here." she said and hurried over to the desk. "How you been doing?" "I'm pretty good. How you been?" the secretary responded with a smile. "Alright, I guess. Anxious as usual." "Aww, don't be anxious. You're in good hands. You know that." Sandra let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know, but it's not you guys I'm worried about." The secretary smiled. "I understand. Monica's waiting for you. Come on back." Sandra walked down the corridor and followed Monica, the medical assistant, to the back of the clinic where the examination rooms were. She folded her arms and shivered in reaction to the rush of cool air that welcomed her when she entered the sterile exam room. The smell of bleach was pomiinent. "It must have been mopped recently." she thought. After checking Sandra's vitals, weight, and height Monica laid a hospital gown across the examining table. She then instructed Sandra to change into the gown and wait for Dr. Kennedy before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Sandra slowly undressed. Each time she removed a piece of clothing she looked over the part of her body it once covered. Once she had taken everything off and didn't notice any unusual marks she looked up and whispered "Thank you, Lord!". Finally, she put on her hospital gown and sat on the exam table to wait for Dr. Kennedy's arrival. The clinic seemed eerily quiet that day. The only sounds Sandra could hear were the ticking of the clock and her veery own breathing. She stood up and started to pace back and forth across the small room. About ten minutes later there was a light tapping at the door then it slowly began to open. A lump formed in Sandra's throat. "Hi there, Sandra." Dr. Kennedy said and let herself in. 'Hi..." Sandra said swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. "How ya been feelin'?" she said in her thick southern accent. "The new medicine I gave ya treatin' ya alright?" "Yeah, Dr. Kennedy. It's fine. I still feel pretty normal. A little tired, but that's it." "Well a lil' fatigue's okay. Any body aches or night sweats? The medicine helping with that?" "None of that. The pills are doing their job." "Alright. Awesome. Now, let me take a look at ya." Dr. Kennedy said and motioned for Sandra to lay back on the exam table. Sandra laid completely still as Dr. Kennedy rubbed her cold, freshly washed hands over her body. This was the most uncomfortable part for Sandra. She hated letting this woman touch all over her. Even knowing she was a doctor, Sandra still felt violated. Once she was done, Dr. Kennedy stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "You can sit up, darlin'." she said. "Everything looks good. No new marks or legions. I gotta admit, Sandra, I'm impressed. You're in really good shape. Givin' that virus a run for it's money, huh?" Sandra smiled for the first time since she'd been there. "I'm trying. I really am. I got kids I need to be around for." "Well, you keep it up. At this rate the virus won't have a chance to mutate. I wanna see you live a long life like that basketball player. What's his name..." Dr. Kennedy said then looked up in deep thought, rubbing her chin. "Magic Johnson." "Yep. That's it. He's a great example. Welp, you're good to go if you don't have any questions or nothin'." Sandra shook her head. "Nope. No questions for me." "Okay, darlin'. You can get dressed and ready to go!" Dr. Kennedy said cheerfully and left the room.
"Why in the hell do doctors' appointments take so long?!" Sandra thought as she sat anxiously in the waiting room of her doctor's office. As she fidgeted and bit her nails she continued to think. "I mean, you'd think because they're dealing with sick people, they'd move with some sense of urgency. I've been coming here every month for over a year. Don't I get priority treatment?" She looked up at the wall clock above the front desk. She'd only been waiting for half an hour. Sandra bit some of her pinky nail and spit it across the room. "Ugh! I really need to quit doing this." she thought then shoved her hands in the pockets of her denim leggins. That 30 minutes felt more like 30 hours! By now, Sandra thought she'd be used to the waiting. Unfortunately, coming to get checked out never got easier. "Ms. Cole?" The medical secretary called from behind the desk. "Right here." she said and hurried over to the desk. "How you been doing?" "I'm pretty good. How you been?" the secretary responded with a smile. "Alright, I guess. Anxious as usual." "Aww, don't be anxious. You're in good hands. You know that." Sandra let out a sigh. "Yeah, I know, but it's not you guys I'm worried about." The secretary smiled. "I understand. Monica's waiting for you. Come on back." Sandra walked down the corridor and followed Monica, the medical assistant, to the back of the clinic where the examination rooms were. She folded her arms and shivered in reaction to the rush of cool air that welcomed her when she entered the sterile exam room. The smell of bleach was pomiinent. "It must have been mopped recently." she thought. After checking Sandra's vitals, weight, and height Monica laid a hospital gown across the examining table. She then instructed Sandra to change into the gown and wait for Dr. Kennedy before leaving the room and closing the door behind her. Sandra slowly undressed. Each time she removed a piece of clothing she looked over the part of her body it once covered. Once she had taken everything off and didn't notice any unusual marks she looked up and whispered "Thank you, Lord!". Finally, she put on her hospital gown and sat on the exam table to wait for Dr. Kennedy's arrival. The clinic seemed eerily quiet that day. The only sounds Sandra could hear were the ticking of the clock and her veery own breathing. She stood up and started to pace back and forth across the small room. About ten minutes later there was a light tapping at the door then it slowly began to open. A lump formed in Sandra's throat. "Hi there, Sandra." Dr. Kennedy said and let herself in. 'Hi..." Sandra said swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in her throat. "How ya been feelin'?" she said in her thick southern accent. "The new medicine I gave ya treatin' ya alright?" "Yeah, Dr. Kennedy. It's fine. I still feel pretty normal. A little tired, but that's it." "Well a lil' fatigue's okay. Any body aches or night sweats? The medicine helping with that?" "None of that. The pills are doing their job." "Alright. Awesome. Now, let me take a look at ya." Dr. Kennedy said and motioned for Sandra to lay back on the exam table. Sandra laid completely still as Dr. Kennedy rubbed her cold, freshly washed hands over her body. This was the most uncomfortable part for Sandra. She hated letting this woman touch all over her. Even knowing she was a doctor, Sandra still felt violated. Once she was done, Dr. Kennedy stood up and placed her hands on her hips. "You can sit up, darlin'." she said. "Everything looks good. No new marks or legions. I gotta admit, Sandra, I'm impressed. You're in really good shape. Givin' that virus a run for it's money, huh?" Sandra smiled for the first time since she'd been there. "I'm trying. I really am. I got kids I need to be around for." "Well, you keep it up. At this rate the virus won't have a chance to mutate. I wanna see you live a long life like that basketball player. What's his name..." Dr. Kennedy said then looked up in deep thought, rubbing her chin. "Magic Johnson." "Yep. That's it. He's a great example. Welp, you're good to go if you don't have any questions or nothin'." Sandra shook her head. "Nope. No questions for me." "Okay, darlin'. You can get dressed and ready to go!" Dr. Kennedy said cheerfully and left the room.
August 7, 2011
Little Girl Lost: Punkin's Story (FROM BRUISES TO BEAUTY)
She may be young, but she's ready. At 18 years old, Punkin is in her first real relationship. Her man's name is Andre and she has been the happiest she's ever been since she's been with him. Living in a house with an alcoholic mother who doesn't just abuse liquor isn't easy. She abuses men and Punkin just as bad. Andre's going to change all of that though. He promised to save her and give her a better life, and when it's time for him to show and prove, Punkin gets more than she ever expected...' "Punkin!" "Oh, my God! What now?" Punkin said to herself instantly irritated by the sound of her mother's voice. "PUNKIN!" her mother yelled from the bottom of the stairs a little louder this time. Punkin stomped over to her bedroom door and yanked it open. "What do you want?! Damn!" she yelled. "Gimmie three dollas so I can get some cigarettes!" her mother demanded. "Don't Eddie got three dollas fo' you? I ain't got no money!" Punkin yelled then slammed her door. "You don't slam no door in my muthafuckin' house!" Punkin's mother screamed then marched up the stairs to Punkin's bedroom. She threw the door open and found Punkin leaning against her dresser with her arms folded. "I'm not in the mood right now, Punkin. Gimme three dollas now. I gotta get me some cigarettes." she growled. Punkin's stomach turned. She hated her mother's stench of cigarettes and malt liquor. She glared at Punkin through bloodshot eyes. "I'm not playin' witchu." "I don't have no money, Momma. Get outta my face." she said and shoved her mother away. Her mom stumbled backwards and fell. More because of the four 24 ounce cans of Olde English 800 she drank that day than Punkin's shove. She stood up and charged at Punkin who jumped out of the way and watched her mother slam into her dresser. Trying to hold back her laugh, Punkin reasoned with her mother. "Gone somewhere, Momma! I don't wanna fight witchu!" she said as her mother scrambled to her feet. "Get out my house, you hoe! Call that nigga you been fuckin' witcho fast ass!" Carole rushed Punkin again this time catching her off guard and knocking her to the floor. She climbed on top of her and grabbed her hair. Punkin kicked her legs and swung her fists in an attempt to get her mother off of her, but Punkin's never been much of a fighter. Carole yanked her hair and slapped her a few times in the face. "Get the fuck off me!" Punkin screamed. Carole slapped Punkin one last time before getting off of her. "Get out! I want you outta here, bitch!" Carole yelled. "I don't give a fuck! I wanna get away from yo' drunk ass anyway!" Punkin yelled back. She stomped past her mother and hurried down to the kitchen. She grabbed a garbage bag and took it back up to her room. "I'm 'bout to go stay with Dre." she said aloud to herself. He told her he lived in a nice condo in Beachwood. She knew he wouldn't mind her staying there. Punkin had been seeing her new boyfriend, Andre for about a month. She had fallen completely in love with him already. Punkin had never met a guy like him before. Andre was older and mature. He was doing his thang in the hood selling weed so he had paper. He bought her a D&G bag for their three week anniversary. Andre had fallen in love with her too and it was time for him to make good on his promise. "I'ma take you away from all this one day. Don't worry 'bout nothin'." he'd always say. "You gon' be my wife. I love you so much." Andre treated her like a woman instead of some young hoodrat. He took her to her very first nice hotel. This man was her soul mate. Punkin flung open her dresser drawers and stuffed as much clothing as would fit into the garbage bag then sat it by her bedroom door. She grabbed her toothbrush, deodorant, and the rest of her toiletries then stuffed them in her D&G bag. "I ain't never coming back!" she said as she threw her bag on her shoulder and grabbed her garbage bag full of clothes. Punkin hurried out of the house and started walking. When she got to the end of her street she pulled her cellphone from her pocket and dialed Andre's number. Her heart melted when she heard his sexy voice. "Hello..." "Hey, babe. I need you to come get me. I just got finished fighting my mother. She put me out." "Naw. I can't do it." he said nonchalantly. "Huh?" Punkin said confused. She looked at her phone trying to make sure she heard him right. "What you mean no?" "I got my son. I'ma be wit him and his mother for the rest of the day." "But... But I'm out here stranded with all my clothes. Can't you just come, drop me off at your house, then go back with your son?" "Bitch, I said no! Call somebody else!" Andre screamed into the phone then hung up in her face. 
