Pat Cromwell

Red Rose Publishing (www.redrosepublishing.com/)

Chris is jaded.  Finally free from an abusive relationship, she has adopted a love-them-and-leave-attitude when it comes to men.  The last thing she wants is to get involved emotionally with Kenneth, however she has no qualms pursuing a no strings attached relationship.  After all, he’s drop dead gorgeous, with sexy deep blue eyes, and a personality that is off the charts charming. 

Kenneth, however, has other plans. 

The minute he saw Chris, he made his intentions clear that he wanted more than a casual affair.  A straight shooter, Kenneth pursues Chris with a sometimes comical edge, but always with a determination to overcome their biggest obstacle.

Chris’s steadfast refusal to believe that love at first sight is real and that he is serious when he says he loves her and is the man of her dreams.  

But how do you convince someone, who has been hurt in the past, that the flame he’s carrying for you now is meant to give warmth and not to burn?  Will he succeed at convincing her that when dreams come true nothing will be left of yesterday’s pain?

Chapter 1

“Maybe I’m dreaming.” She murmured as she checked out the man walking towards her.  He was tall, about six feet in height and his olive color skin looked very soft to the touch. She straightened her posture and held her head high as the distance between grew smaller.  It was a windy day in New Orleans and his jet black wavy hair danced wildly about his face.  The closer he got to her, the more nervous she became. 

His eyes were deep blue, almost black and his face was covered with morning stubble.  She was weak kneed for guys with a goatee and sure enough he had one.  He wore a black turtleneck, stonewash jeans, and black Stacy Adam high tops.  She thought that was kind of weird, a white man in Stacy Adams wing tips.  Stranger still was her body’s reaction to him.  She was flushed as she watched him make his way towards her.  His walk was seductive and slow.  Other than movie stars, she had never particularly found white men attractive, but this guy was a four star viewer delight. 

As he passed her he reached out and touched her shoulder.  He leaned in and whispered "Hello".  She froze instantly, and then after a moment’s hesitation, turned and followed his movement as he went pass her.  Her body trembled from the aftershock of the electrical current that shot through her from his touch. 

He slid his hand back into his pockets and was still looking at her as he continued his slow pace down the busy street.  She smiled and nodded feebly and he did the same.  Then he turned his head from her and continued up the path to the Atkins English Building.

"Shit!"  She whispered and then quickened her pace to the main library. 

*****

"I mean he was fine!  Capital F I N E, good looking gorgeous please take me home and fuck my brains out right now fine!”  She said. 

"Come on, you said he was white." Her friend Nicky said.  Chris immediately picked up the annoyance and disapproval in her roommates voice.

"Girl, you need to get your brain out of Midwest Indiana and appreciate that it's the new millennium.  We're young, gifted and black and we can have and do who ever we want.  It’s written in black and white on page 87 of my all time favorite copy of Cosmopolitan Magazine.  I’ll let you borrow my copy so you can expand your vision."

"But still with all the fine brothers on this campus, you're sitting here lusting over some nasty ass red neck.  This is Franklin College, number one black college smack dab in the middle of New Orleans.  The brothers here are worth the cost of tuition alone.  They're real black men girl!  You'd better take advantage of the situation now."

"Nicky, what makes the brothers here different from the ones somewhere else.  Are you saying they are better than the guy working at the liquor store or driving public transportation buses?  I know you are not making a distinction between an educated brother and a hard at work brother.  I mean, that wouldn’t be cool now would it Ms. Malcolm X Mandela King."

"I'm saying, when you leave here with your degree you're looking at getting paid.  The brothers here are looking at getting paid.  His payday and your payday add up to making a big difference for all our people."

"Oh God, here we go again."

"It's true and you know it.  We have to make a difference.  We have to stick together.  Stay together.  It's a negative trend in our community, sisters going with white men.  It's bad enough the brothers started deserting their people in the seventies.  And now it seems the new millennium is all about the black woman going backwards."

"Backwards?"

"Yeah.  You know, back to the master's bed."

"All right, there's no talking to you about this." Chris said.  She closed her book and folded her hands.  "Nicky, you've never been curious."  She asked.

"Never."

"And you don't find Johnny Depp incredibly sexy?"

"Not even a little." Nicky replied, flipping a page of the book she was reading.

"What about ...."

"No. Never.   I am loyal.  I am strictly a Denzel, Wesley Snipes, Taye Diggs kind of black women.  I'm not rehashing the whole slave thing.  I don't need a master."  Nicky said.

"Are you serious?"  Chris asked, hoping once more that Nicky just wasn't that racist, but knowing full well that she was.  This was an argument that they had had before.  Chris contributed Nicky's position of race relations to her Midwestern conservative but separate equal upbringing.  Chris, while not ignorant to the difference between black and white and the silent racist attitude in America had never experience first hand the things that Nicky had.  Chris had never been called a "Negga" and she certainly had never experience real racism.  She grew up in a racially mixed community in Chicago where people were just people. 

"Very." Nicky said.  She closed her book and added, "We'd better go.  We'll be late to Black History.  Dr. Baron's permanent replacement is taking over his Black History class today.  I wonder who this Professor Ingram is.  Do you know if Ingram is male or female?" Nicky asked as they gather up there books.

"Male.  Whoever this Ingram person is I heard that Dr. Baron's knew him for years and that Ingram taught Black History at NYU.  I still can't believe Dr. Baron’s had a heart attack.  He’s only thirty five years. That's really scary!" Chris said.

"Of course you do know that heart attacks are the number one killer of African American males." Nicky said in her I know everything there is to know about the Negro race voice.

"You mean besides murder." Chris responded sarcastically. "You know Nicky; if you're going to quote statistics you should get them right.  Also, you should curb your over zealous enthusiasm at proclaiming to the world how black you are.  You can be black and proud and not wear it like a banner twenty-four hours a day."

"Excuse me." Nicky said

"You heard me.  Do you even know how to converse without bringing politics into the conversation?  You make people uncomfortable."

"Because I am concerned about my race!"

"You're majoring in fine arts!  How is that degree going to help your brothers and sisters?  Are you going to rent a van to pick up little ghetto kids, take them to the museum so they can get culture?  They don't need to know about the fucking Mona Lisa.  They need stability and love and guidance.  They need healthcare and better living conditions.  They need to know that some one cares.  They don't need rhetoric.  Why not be a doctor or a lawyer or a fucking social worker?  Study political science and run for mayor.  How are you going to change anything by perpetuating the ideal that all white people are evil and cruel and are devils?"

"You let a white man just reach out and disrespect you this morning and you're lecturing me on what the black race need."

"How did he disrespect me?"

"He touched you!  Somewhere in his mind he thought it was okay to just touch you.  A black woman! Somewhere in his mind he thought that as a white man he could just invade the space of a black woman and your reaction to that touch validated his unconscious superior attitude!  And somewhere in your mind you thought it was okay, because unconsciously you obviously think him to be superior to you."

"You know," Chris said shaking her head, "Racism had nothing to do with it.  In fact, racism was the last thing on his mind and my mind." 

"Right!  Let's perpetrate that myth that all a black woman want is to get fucked!"

"You're right.  This black woman does want to get fuck.  It's been a long time.  There.  Call me a whore if you like because if I ever have the chance, I'd fuck him.  He looked just that fucking good!" She gathered her books and left. 

Chapter 1

“Maybe I’m dreaming.” She murmured as she checked out the man walking towards her.  He was tall, about six feet in height and his olive color skin looked very soft to the touch. She straightened her posture and held her head high as the distance between grew smaller.  It was a windy day in New Orleans and his jet black wavy hair danced wildly about his face.  The closer he got to her, the more nervous she became. 

His eyes were deep blue, almost black and his face was covered with morning stubble.  She was weak kneed for guys with a goatee and sure enough he had one.  He wore a black turtleneck, stonewash jeans, and black Stacy Adam high tops.  She thought that was kind of weird, a white man in Stacy Adams wing tips.  Stranger still was her body’s reaction to him.  She was flushed as she watched him make his way towards her.  His walk was seductive and slow.  Other than movie stars, she had never particularly found white men attractive, but this guy was a four star viewer delight. 

As he passed her he reached out and touched her shoulder.  He leaned in and whispered "Hello".  She froze instantly, and then after a moment’s hesitation, turned and followed his movement as he went pass her.  Her body trembled from the aftershock of the electrical current that shot through her from his touch. 

He slid his hand back into his pockets and was still looking at her as he continued his slow pace down the busy street.  She smiled and nodded feebly and he did the same.  Then he turned his head from her and continued up the path to the Atkins English Building.

"Shit!"  She whispered and then quickened her pace to the main library. 

*****

"I mean he was fine!  Capital F I N E, good looking gorgeous please take me home and fuck my brains out right now fine!”  She said. 

"Come on, you said he was white." Her friend Nicky said.  Chris immediately picked up the annoyance and disapproval in her roommates voice.

"Girl, you need to get your brain out of Midwest Indiana and appreciate that it's the new millennium.  We're young, gifted and black and we can have and do who ever we want.  It’s written in black and white on page 87 of my all time favorite copy of Cosmopolitan Magazine.  I’ll let you borrow my copy so you can expand your vision."

"But still with all the fine brothers on this campus, you're sitting here lusting over some nasty ass red neck.  This is Franklin College, number one black college smack dab in the middle of New Orleans.  The brothers here are worth the cost of tuition alone.  They're real black men girl!  You'd better take advantage of the situation now."

"Nicky, what makes the brothers here different from the ones somewhere else.  Are you saying they are better than the guy working at the liquor store or driving public transportation buses?  I know you are not making a distinction between an educated brother and a hard at work brother.  I mean, that wouldn’t be cool now would it Ms. Malcolm X Mandela King."

"I'm saying, when you leave here with your degree you're looking at getting paid.  The brothers here are looking at getting paid.  His payday and your payday add up to making a big difference for all our people."

"Oh God, here we go again."

"It's true and you know it.  We have to make a difference.  We have to stick together.  Stay together.  It's a negative trend in our community, sisters going with white men.  It's bad enough the brothers started deserting their people in the seventies.  And now it seems the new millennium is all about the black woman going backwards."

"Backwards?"

"Yeah.  You know, back to the master's bed."

"All right, there's no talking to you about this." Chris said.  She closed her book and folded her hands.  "Nicky, you've never been curious."  She asked.

"Never."

"And you don't find Johnny Depp incredibly sexy?"

"Not even a little." Nicky replied, flipping a page of the book she was reading.

"What about ...."

"No. Never.   I am loyal.  I am strictly a Denzel, Wesley Snipes, Taye Diggs kind of black women.  I'm not rehashing the whole slave thing.  I don't need a master."  Nicky said.

"Are you serious?"  Chris asked, hoping once more that Nicky just wasn't that racist, but knowing full well that she was.  This was an argument that they had had before.  Chris contributed Nicky's position of race relations to her Midwestern conservative but separate equal upbringing.  Chris, while not ignorant to the difference between black and white and the silent racist attitude in America had never experience first hand the things that Nicky had.  Chris had never been called a "Negga" and she certainly had never experience real racism.  She grew up in a racially mixed community in Chicago where people were just people. 

"Very." Nicky said.  She closed her book and added, "We'd better go.  We'll be late to Black History.  Dr. Baron's permanent replacement is taking over his Black History class today.  I wonder who this Professor Ingram is.  Do you know if Ingram is male or female?" Nicky asked as they gather up there books.

"Male.  Whoever this Ingram person is I heard that Dr. Baron's knew him for years and that Ingram taught Black History at NYU.  I still can't believe Dr. Baron’s had a heart attack.  He’s only thirty five years. That's really scary!" Chris said.

"Of course you do know that heart attacks are the number one killer of African American males." Nicky said in her I know everything there is to know about the Negro race voice.

"You mean besides murder." Chris responded sarcastically. "You know Nicky; if you're going to quote statistics you should get them right.  Also, you should curb your over zealous enthusiasm at proclaiming to the world how black you are.  You can be black and proud and not wear it like a banner twenty-four hours a day."

"Excuse me." Nicky said

"You heard me.  Do you even know how to converse without bringing politics into the conversation?  You make people uncomfortable."

"Because I am concerned about my race!"

"You're majoring in fine arts!  How is that degree going to help your brothers and sisters?  Are you going to rent a van to pick up little ghetto kids, take them to the museum so they can get culture?  They don't need to know about the fucking Mona Lisa.  They need stability and love and guidance.  They need healthcare and better living conditions.  They need to know that some one cares.  They don't need rhetoric.  Why not be a doctor or a lawyer or a fucking social worker?  Study political science and run for mayor.  How are you going to change anything by perpetuating the ideal that all white people are evil and cruel and are devils?"

"You let a white man just reach out and disrespect you this morning and you're lecturing me on what the black race need."

"How did he disrespect me?"

"He touched you!  Somewhere in his mind he thought it was okay to just touch you.  A black woman! Somewhere in his mind he thought that as a white man he could just invade the space of a black woman and your reaction to that touch validated his unconscious superior attitude!  And somewhere in your mind you thought it was okay, because unconsciously you obviously think him to be superior to you."

"You know," Chris said shaking her head, "Racism had nothing to do with it.  In fact, racism was the last thing on his mind and my mind." 

"Right!  Let's perpetrate that myth that all a black woman want is to get fucked!"

"You're right.  This black woman does want to get fuck.  It's been a long time.  There.  Call me a whore if you like because if I ever have the chance, I'd fuck him.  He looked just that fucking good!" She gathered her books and left.