79440171

My books are found on amazon.com , barnes and nobles, bbotw.com, infinitypublishing.com, publishamerica.com, etc. Click pic for my other book cover.Who You Callin’ Hoochie? (COMEDY) introduces readers to the electrifying personality of the main character - Marquiesha Jameesha Foster. Marquiesha hangs out with her best friends and embark upon hilarious adventures that will never lead you into a dull moment.Zany characters who keep the laughter going are - Marquiesha - a flashy college graduate, Tina – a baby’s mama with drama, Derrick – a homosexual with boldness and feminine flair, and Heidi – who is white, but loves to date black men. By the way, they are all labeled hoochies.Marquiesha was once best friends with - Jazzmin and Africa, but they rudely called her “hoochie” over a summer vacation. The battle began between the three of them and lasted throughout their separate journeys through college.The excitement begins when the two girls return home from college, and all six girls accidentally meet. That’s when the feuding continues to an unimaginable end.CHAPTER ONE - MARQUIESHA (excerpt)My name is Marquiesha Jameesha Foster and I’m referred to as a "hoochie." When I’m not bein’ called hoochie, I’m called Marq for short -- pronounced like the boy’s name -- Mark. You know, the boy, Mark, from around the way. You know he’s gotta be gay ‘cause wit’ a name like that, you can’t be nothin’ but a sissy.Like the word in the dictionary -- mark. You know how we, black folks, use it -- when you mark on the wall wit’ yo’ fresh new pack of magic markers, after yo’ mamma done told you not to. When yo’ mamma finds those black marks all over her white livin’ room walls, she knocks the snot out of yo’ crumb-snatchin’ self. Now you got snot and tears rollin’ down yo’ long ugly face. You wipin’ yo’ face wit’ yo’ dirty shirt sleeve. You screamin’ and can’t hardly breathe."Oh yeah...the hoochie story. Yeah, I’ll get back to it! Don’t rush me, okay!"Anyhow, I’m a twenty-three-year-old technical school graduate. I majored in and graduated from the school of cosmetology. I got my hair design degree."Hey! Hey! Like whoa! Hey! Hey! Like whoa! Hey! Hey! Push it up! Push it up! Now break down! Uh, huh! Ain’t you proud of moi?"My Dad is buyin’ me a beauty shop, ‘cause my Dad is an entrepreneur hisself. He wants his baby girl to be all that she can be. What does my dad do? Oh, he is in the security business.He provides security for them big-time entertainers such as Snoop Doggity Dog, the Master of the P, and Toni and them Braxton ‘nems. He got more clientele, too, like them ballers and shot-callers in the 2G, rollin’ them big-body benzes, fingerin’ the ice and bling-blingin’ all over da world."Uh! Oh! I’m trippin’, again! But don’t worry, I caught my own self this time. I gets carried away, but I’m back to my story! Okay? You ain’t gotta look at me all stupid and stuff, do ya’?"Anyway, I can’t wait ‘til my shop opens. I can’t wait to do the hair weaves, the nail designs, and put gold teeth in people’s mouths. Yeah, I’ll pop a gold tooth on which tooths my clientele want me to put a tooth on. Like I did wit’ my own tooth. See? I’ve gotta to do the gold teeth thang on the down-low, ‘cause I ain’t no licensed dentist or hygienist, so shhh!"Okay, you want me to get back to the hoochie story. Okay! I promise to try and not go way over yonder again."You ask, how did I get the label hoochie? Let’s see...oh, yeah! There was these two skeezers whose names is Jazzmin Coleman and Africa Thomas. I ain’t always called them skeezers. I tagged ‘em wit’ this description after they labeled me hoochie. They was my best friends up ‘til this particular incident in our lives, which I will go into detail ‘bout that later in my story.Anyway, despite my goals, intellect and accomplishments, bein’ called hoochie has turned into an epidemic. Er’where I go, people be trippin’ and stuff, and callin’ me hoochie.So, I got my own style! I wear my knee-length boots, miniskirts, Daisy Duke cut-off shorts, and halter tops. I got my accessories such as a gold nose ring, a gold tooth, a gold navel ring, several gold necklaces, gold bracelets, a gold ring and diamond ring for each of my ten fingers, and a gold ring on my toe. I’m tryin’ to decide on a gold stud for my tounge. Oh, and not to mention my big-looped earrings for my ears, and my unique hair weaves wit’ a variety of different colors. I got my own dialect and lingo. You know, my own way of speakin’. Heck! I create my own vocabulary from time to time. You still feelin’ me? I can be use proper anglish at the right time."Now don’t you go to sleep on such excitement! You better hear me, though! I am fierce! I am a diva and I must be seen!"I demand my attention; this is why I dress the way I dress and talk the way I talk. I demand my attention, but not the attention of ignorant people wit’ the name-callin’ and all! So, what’s the big deal? Some people get attention in different ways, so why should I be singled out and be labeled? Er’body got they own style! So, why all this drama unfoldin’ all over me and my road dawgs?Humph! Jazz and Africa started callin’ me hoochie ‘cause I changed my attitude and the way I dress! Who do they thank they is, anyhow?Anyway, after I finished technical school, I decided to settle down at home wit’ my dad, mom and brother, Arnold, wit’ his nerdy self. Home is a small county down south. The race in my town is majority black population.Home is where my two current best friends live named, Derrick and Tina. We kicks it together. They also called hoochies. We deal wit’ a lot of teasin’, but we let it roll off of us like rain water. We keep rollin’ like the road dawgs we is, ‘cause we is down that way!Deep down in our hearts, the name-callin’ still bothers us, though. We been in some real fist-fights over the name-callin’. We have calmed down a lot, actually. We can take on more name-callin’ than in the past. We just let them teasers have their fun.The Saag Club (Excerpt) (DRAMA/ROMANCE)... Like those embers, the empire I built, rose, then came crashing to the ground. The aftermath of the light of a match and the sprinkle of gas was before me -- destroyed, in seconds, what took me months to accomplish. The firemen did all that they could do, then drove away from the remnants. I remained well after the curious crowd had dispersed."Nooo!" I awoke screaming. My sudden spring upwards left me looking at myself in my dresser mirror. Sweat was pouring from my face. Before I could reflect on the fifty-seventh episode of my nightmare, there was a knock on my bedroom door."Malik, get up or you'll be late for class," a demanding female voice charged at me through my dorm-room door."Damned female dorm! These women act like they're my Moms or Pops!"It was my desire to continue to stay at Cornegie Hall with the Frat Brothers, but in light of most recent events, I'm much better off here than at Cornegie Hall. Besides, I've gained most of the females' respect and I respect them.I was due at class in an hour, so I showered, dressed, grabbed my backpack, and headed out for the cafeteria. My mind was on grits, eggs, and bacon. I went for the door knob to exit, pulled back the door, and in stumbled Rhapsody. She lost her footing and fell through to the floor. She laid flat on her face. She rolled over to lying on her back, then looked up at me through bifocaled glasses.With an embarrassed look on her face, she apologized, "Oh! I'm sorry, Malik! I was kinda' leanin’ on your door, waiting for Kendra to come down the hall."I gave her a look of disbelief, then I said, "Yeah, right Rhap! Now, what the hell are you really doing leaning on my door?" I asked as I reached down, grabbed her arm, and helped her to her feet.Rhapsody admitted, "Well, you're right, Malik! I'm not waiting for Kendra. I heard you screaming, earlier, and I was kinda' listening to see if you were okay. You’ve been having those bad dreams, and I’m concerned. So, I heard the shower and I figured you were okay, but I came back through to double check and make sure." Rhapsody continued, then stood staring nosily into my room."What the hell are you looking for Rhap?" I asked her the question, but I already knew the answer. I quickly closed the door behind me.Rhapsody responded, "Oh, nothing!" She then hurried away.I smiled as I walked toward the kitchen. Though Rhapsody and I have had our romantic moment, she always brings back memories of her neverending quest for my love.See, Rhapsody has the fire for me. This dates back to our freshman year of college. Though she knows my reputation for conquering the ladies, her pursuit for me is endless. See, she was peering into my room, thinking that the scream she heard was because of some Honey.If there was a Honey in my room, Rhapsody would have been extremely jealous, let alone surprised. Because lately, my concentrations have been centered on graduating from college, not on dating. I have been celebate for a few weeks now (which is also surprising for me, too). So, its puzzling to Rhapsody because she hasn't seen no one of the female persuasion entering my room for a while now. Nor has she seen me entering a female's room. Nor has she seen me with a female period! So, Miss Rhap thinks she has me on lock down, at this "femaleless" point in my life. This Rhapsody experience reminds me of how Rhap and I met.We were in the last semester of our freshman year in college. Ivy State College -- a small-town black college, down south, where female students outnumbered the male students by whopping proportions. We were registering for the next semester of classes. Students were standing in long, congested lines. There was no organization and I was getting pretty frustrated at the system. The south's hot, humid temperature wasn't helping matters, either. But, the view was slammin'!Ladies were everywhere! The female to male ratio was like overwhelming, so my chances for landing ladies were max! There were three ladies on the campus yard who seemed to stand out from the rest. The loud colors they wore, combined with their long curvaceous legs, attracted much attention. These ladies had on short mini-skirts, blowing in the hot, summer breeze. Their skirt tails hit their thighs at a level so high, that the breeze aided a brotha's imagination. The wind just wasn’t kickin’ it quite high enough to see the essence of their....Oh! Sorry! Back to my story!Anyway, I did not know Rhapsody at the time, but she was standing across the campus yard, underneath a shade tree, with three of the finest ladies I'd ever seen in my life! Rhapsody stuck in my mind as on the nerd tip, but she was there. So, I felt I had to flatter the whole group to at least get with one of the Honeys. So, I put on my "operation mack walk" and strutted across the campus yard, until I reached the tree where the Honeys stood.As I approached the group of ladies, I could hear the nerdy female saying, "Here comes Malik!"They all stood in silence and began looking my way. I picked up on their giving me much attention, so I macked even harder.I wondered to myself, "Now, how does this one girl know my name?"When I arrived at "destination Honeys," I threw in my "old Malik rap." The "old Malik rap" is the charm that had landed multiple Hotties back home in South Central.As I approached the ladies, I greeted them with the charm that only a player, like myself, possessed. "Hello, lovely ladies!" I said, using my faux, baritoned voice. "Hot day, huh?"They all responded with Hello. They began to giggle, which led me to believe that I had been a topic of an earlier discussion. I hoped that if I was a topic of discussion, that it was a plus for me.I thought I'd try the "brother with money routine," so I hit them with an invite. "What about if I buy each of you lovely ladies a cool drink of cool lemonade at campus grill? A big glass of lemonade will put a chill over those beautifully-framed bodies of yours!"The ladies passed up my invitation by following suit of each other. One of them answered, "Maybe another time, Malik."The ladies walked by me. The aroma of their perfume drifted up my nostrils, to my brain.I stretched my arms outwards and screamed out after them, "How do you know my name? I don't know yours! Hey, but I'd like to! Hey! Give a brother your names! What about your digits or address! Hey, c’mon! Don’t ignore me. I’d like to get to know you."One of the fine, young ladies turned back, looked at me, and gave me an angelic smile. I later learned that her name was Deidra. But, she's another part of my story.As I admired the "from-the-rear-view" of the ladies walking away, a voice came from behind me, loud and high-pitched. "I'll accept your invitation, Malik."I said to myself, "Oh no! Three Honeys gone, so that leaves one Nerd! Damned!"I turned around, slowly, trying not to possess a facial expression of disappointment. But, no matter how I tried to play it off, I'm sure my face spelled -- "Damned!" But, do you think she noticed? Hell no! Even if she did, Sister Girl was on a mission to land herself a man!"Hey, Malik! I'll have that lemonade," Rhapsody repeated."Oh, yeah, Girl? What's your name?" I asked, trying to be friendly, and not hurt her feelings.At A Loss (Adventure/Action) (Excerpt - not published yet)NICOLE “NIKKI” TEMPESTI'm smothered. Though Mom talks of moving our family soon, I don't like the idea. I'm crowded in this bedroom with my two sisters, but I don't want to move south. We’re already living in the south! My three brothers occupy one other room in this five-room shack. Mom and Dad are lucky to have a room of their own, if that's what you call it. Just for the fact of “accommodating our kids enough to get through school and obtain a good education,” I believe they will sleep outside if they had to or live in a cave.Anyway, I'm walking to school with all of my nappy-head sisters and brothers. We are all nappy-headed and poor, but we all look good. Mom and Dad did a good job on that! My crew is coming down the hill to join me. I'm sweating bullets and afraid that one, of the big mouths, will say something about us going to that party last Friday night. I'm lucky I haven't gotten caught, so far, from sneaking out of my bedroom window and all.I climb out of my bedroom window some nights and go into the woods to meet the girls. Once there, and at our special tree, we build a fire, sit down, drink, eat and they puff on cigarettes. Gigi, the gangster of the group, steals boxes of cigarettes from her granddaddy's store. We sit around and talk about our plans of when we grow up or how we gonna dance at a house party or the juke joint or the happenings at school and just any old thing that come to our minds. Mind you, I drink but I do not puff on cigarettes. Those cigarettes smell so nasty!If we ever get caught, the saints of the community will label us fast or hot mamas. Some of these very same church-going saints party with us at some of the same places. They know our parents and are possibly the same age as our parents. But, it’s like we sinners got secrets. They don’t tell. I guess it's a sacred pact amongst us sinners to do the sin, break the rules, but keep what we do in the sinners’ family.Anyway, I was afraid, at first, when I first saw Sister Sally dancing at the juke joint. She didn’t say a word, but smiled at me and kept dancing. Then, I saw her and some of the other saints at the church on that Sunday. They did the same. They just smiled at me like they never seen me outside of the church, nodded their heads at the preacher and shouted like a rain storm!If Pastor only knew how Sally is the main attraction at the juke joint and on the dance floor. Everybody stops to watch her and her dance partner for the night do the twist, the funky chicken or the mashed potatoes or some new dance. I’ve known Sally to have a few too many shots and she danced on the table tops! I guess that’s why they call her Mustang Sally at the juke joint.If Pastor only knew that Sally had that nickname and what it stood for, she would not be one of his pet peeves in the church. Mainly, I just think Pastor has the mentality of most of the men Sally has run across. He admires her for them big yellow legs, her pretty smooth skin and her “white folks” thin nose. She looks like them white folks. She got them white lady facial features. The dudes dig that about ladies. They can’t touch the forbidden fruit of the white woman, so a close-knit, light skinned black woman will be their community eye candy and trophy girl. Nothing else matters to them men after that. They just want something pretty to look at and to touch.So, as we walk along to school, my sisters and brothers don’t have a clue as to the night life that I lead with my friends. My girls catch up with me on our walk to school. We get off to ourselves and giggle and talk about the fun we have partying and the happenings at school. I look at Timmy and Natalie with admiration. They are my youngest brother and sister. They are my world. Those other older brothers and my sister can go to China for all I care! Yeah, well, I love them, but they are spoiled. They get away with murder because they threaten us younger ones.Though we’ve got a mom and dad, it’s like my older siblings gave birth to us younger ones! They boss us around and stuff! Anyway, it’s a great age spread between me and the kids. I’m fifteen, Timmy’s nine and Nattie’s seven years old. Though my baby sister’s name is Natalie, we call her Nattie for short. Sometimes we call youngest brother Timmy by the name of Tim for short. I look after them like I’m their shadow or something.Anyway, my friends and I talk about our plans for the night. It’s Friday and I have to wait until late to slip out of my bedroom window. Besides, I have to get some relief from my every day routine. And slipping out and hanging with my girls is a way to burn off steam.I hate the weekends because there is no school. Plus, I get ragged on all weekend about doing chores which I despise. Mom should give us a little break on the weekend. We bust our butts all week studying in school and then come home after school and have to tend to the gardens and the farm animals. So the weekends should be our time.All weekend, it’s ‘feed the chickens, feed the pigs, feed the mules, feed the horses, feed the goats, feed the rabbits! Clean this house! Put the kids on some clean clothes! Wash the windows! Sweep the floors! Wash! Iron! Get some water from the pond and water the garden so it won’t burn up in the heat! Clean! Clean! Clean!’ Those orders are all from Mom.What about Dad? Well, he’s cool. He works all week at the Paper Mill. So, Mom kicks the younger kids out of the house on weekends to play. We older kids have to do chores. Dad sleeps all day on the weekends. I love my dad. He deserves to sleep. Even though he has an army of kids, he still makes me feel special. I love my mom, too, but she feels that she has to be the mom and the dad. So, it’s just harder to get all mushy for my mom. It’s like she’s the General with us as her platoon of soldiers.Gigi screamed, “Nikki, girl, Bobby has got it bad for you! Them boys from school, they was so surprised to see us all up in the juke joint! I told them to meet us in the woods tonight with his guy friends!” Gigi let out her last puff of smoke and threw down the short cigarette butt.I wanted to shove that cigarette down her throat, but instead I screamed at her.“What?” My siblings looked back at me all crazy and stuff. I looked over at them and held the girls back with my arms as my family continued to walk ahead toward school. There’s my girlfriend Peaches known as Ora Madison, Daisy Knight, Candy known as Nora Potts and Patty known as Patricia Mitchell. They stop behind my arm in the middle of the narrow dirt path, which is surrounded by bushes and trees. I hold them back because they were cackling like hens and a little too loud! I did not want this information to get back to my parents. My brothers and sisters were sure to tell my folks if they heard our conversation.A mule-drawn wagon comes charging toward us. Patty’s eyes are wide with terror and I could see she’s anxious to move out of the way. If we move, we would be behind bushes because we haven’t much space. Patty’s the timid type. Any little thing frightens her.Oh yeah, then there’s Gigi or Ginger Grant. She’s the yellow girl who had a mix of white blood in her family. She stands in the pathway of the wagon with attitude, long yellow legs and a smirk on her face. Gigi, who has never left Plantersville, Georgia in her life is sophisticated and seems world-class. The fast-approaching wagon did not sway her in the least. Her self-confidence may be attributed to her vast experiences in her life with an array of men. Men who visits her grandparents’ store or men from the night spots tell her stories of their world travels.There is no limit to her acquaintances. She knows white men, black men, China men, Mexican men, Australian men, and men, men, men. I fear for Gigi being so young and yet so free. Even though she’s eighteen, she’s like thirty-two or some older age.I push her further away from my family’s hearing distance and whisper, “Gigi! Girl, it’s bad enough if my folks ever catch us in the woods! They will kill me. Now imagine if they catch us in the woods with boys! I will never ever be able to leave the house again!”Candy teases, “Well, they don’t let you leave the house now, so that won’t be so different.” Old nasty Candy picks up the short cigarette butt that Gigi just thumbs away and takes a drag. She said, “Gigi, you never bring cigarettes no more!”Patty looks back over her shoulder and nervously says, “Ya’ll that white man on that wagon don’t look like he go’ be too happy with us all up in his way! He just may run us all down!”Patty talks in southern drawl and is always as nervous as a cow in the slaughter house. She’s right. I watch the mule being slapped with the reigns the white man’s holding. They show no signs of slowing down.Gigi boldly walks further away from us. She stands right smack in the middle of the pathway and lifts her dress over her knee.The driver pulls back on the reigns and screams, “Whoa mule! Whoa!”Gigi stares at the white driver with her eyebrows raised and a naughty look on her face. I look from her to the driver, from the driver to her. I should have known they know each other.This white guy looks to be in his early to middle twenty years of age. His hair is black and curly. He’s tall and quite muscular. I never rightly looked at white guys as attractive, but I had to admit, he is a looker! Turns out Gigi does indeed know the guy. He looks at Gigi with confidence. It’s like a look of certainty in knowing this girl for some time.He says, “Why Devil Lye, why you all up in my way, girl? I saw a bunch of spades in the middle of the road, but I had no idea you was in the bunch. I had no mind to slow,just knowing ya’ll blacks had some sense enough of moving out the way. Gigi, gal, you make a KKK put the fire out at a black man lynchin’. You make my mule drool. Hell! You make me drool, too!” I notice his deep southern accent. A nasty wad of chewing tobacco shows as he speaks. He lets out a slew of black tobacco juice and never stops eyeballing Gigi.Gigi courageously walks to the wagon and climbs on. White dude grabs her arm and assists her into the wagon to stand beside him. I swear if we weren’t present, he probably would have given her a bear hug and a sloppy kiss like we see on those romantic French movies!She put out her hand and he kisses it. She says, “Italian Stallion! It is my pleasure to stop you and your mule from running us down. You know how special you are to me.”Gigi’s talking but, she ain’t using her northern accent anymore. She moved here from New York when she was a baby. So she talks northern like she remembers using their accent. But at this moment and to impress her friend, she’s talking like one of them white girls from the plantation! She’s using the type of language in Gone with the Wind.Italian Stallion’s face turns red as an apple. He says, “Gal, git on over cheer close to me and ride on to that thar school of yourins.”Gigi looks back at us and asks him, “Can you take my girls here and drop them off, too?”“I can do, Devil Lye. Tell them girls to hop on in cheer! You sit right cheer side me!”That old fast Gigi sits right close to him. Infuriation is how I feel of her actions, but a ride to school is nice. There’s another mile to walk.Gigi looks at us and says, “Well? Ya’ll riding or what?”The crew climbs aboard. I hesitantly move to join them. Because of my hesitancy, he had clicked them reigns on the mule’s back and the wagon moved away. I ran and jumped on. We weren’t going too fast, so I lick out my tongue at my oldest siblings.I teased, “Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah! Nah!” Then, I call for my youngest – Timmy and Nattie to run and climb on. “Timmy! Nattie! Run on up here and climb on!” They run to catch up. The girls and I pull them inside the back of the wagon.We pull up to our barn of a school with old gray boards nailed loosely together. The old school barn stands in the middle of a field and we call it Community Education School. Believe me, it was community because all ages attended from four years old to eighteen years old.I could see sunlight through the cracks of the building shining in from one side and out from the other. This is one reason school was only attended in spring, summer and fall months. We would actually freeze if school was held in the winter time!Mr. Stallion pulls to a stop and we all jump from the wagon. The kids rush to the playground. The slimy white guy grips the reigns to control the restless mules, but his eyes takes a hold on me. Uncomfortable under his stare, I think Gigi’s noticing him admiring me. Her look of annoyance and jealousy is burning my skin. She rolls her eyes and snuggles closer to him. That is a hint that I should ignore his attraction to me and stay away from her man.It’s early and not many students are on the yard at school, but the few that’s present, is thinking it strange that Gigi’s snuggling up with a white man in public. I'm sure it’s strange that my crew and I got a ride to school on the back of a white man's wagon. The couple got the crowd to stare at them in amazement and confusion, yet it did not stop them in the least. Now we wonder if Gigi and Stallion are playing with a full deck of cards. They both might have a slight mental condition. If they were at a white school, the KKK would swarm and lynch the both of them by nightfall.This is just too much tension for me, so I call the girls and we inch over to the playground. I look back to see Gigi whispering something in the Stallion’s ear. Surprisingly, she jumps from the wagon changing her mind to play hooky from school to be with Mr. Stallion. I’m thinking she will address the issue of Stallion's attentive stare and long stare at me one way or the other. Even so, none of this is my fault. I mean, I can’t help it if I’m so gorgeous.Buy my books and read more excitement! -------------- Currently, I am working on my book titled At A Loss.Please purchase copies of my books and read. You will love both books. Thanks to all of my fans who are supportive and future fans who will be supportive! You may go to websites www.bbotw.com , www.infinitypublishing.com (The Saag Club), and www.publishamerica.com (Who You Callin Hoochie?)to purchase my books.
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www.amazon.com
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