What They Talkin’ Bout….

Nakki Price

I had the honor of Ms. Nakki Price doing a review on the Ugly Side Of Sex. Not the fact that I liked it so much (because I loved it), but the fact that she was absolute in what she thought of my book which made me want to share and let y’all know …’What They Talkin’ Bout.’ 

In less than 24 hours, I had read DK Walker’s freshman novel about a young man with a sexual appetite that would embarrass any preacher.  As you all know, I’m not shy when I make it clear that I’m NOT a fan of Urban Fiction.  However, Mr. Walker’s account of life from the point of view of a brother with a sex addiction…it walked the fine line of erotica and suspense.

When one thinks of erotica…the first thought comes to ZANE. The QUEEN of melt in your mouth, spill all over your body, and between your toes erotica. I’m embarrassed to admit that the one book that I own of hers…I couldn’t get past the third short story.  Yes…my fuse was lit…I digress.  Mr. Walker takes erotica down a different lane.  It’s not filthy, yet very descriptive. I could see every move of his characters.  Yes, I have a vivid imagination but I felt that I was either a fly on the wall or a ready and willing participant in each escapade. Yes…it was like that.  I’ll make it clear…the words will indeed make your eyebrows raise, so if you’re shy about the things that you’ve seen on HBO…this book may be a little much for you.

The main character made his intentions clear, but you did not see much maturity until later in the book.  There’s a reason, but an earlier maturation would have led to the enjoyment of both orgasmic pinnacles of the book – yes…there were 2 amongst the many.  I would have liked to have seen a little more into the main character, other than the obvious.  What happened when he thought about his life and decided to continue down the same spiral staircase?  What happened just before he met The One that would end his obsession?  In talking with Mr. Walker…his sophomore novel will fill in some of the gaps that The Ugly Side of Sex left.

The title…so appropriate.  The ending…creative.  In between…a trip worth taking.  If you’re looking for a peek inside of the life of the fast and furious (and I’m not talking about cars here) from a male point of view, I think that you’ll find this novel a learning experience.  Don’t get caught up…I hear the sequel is due this summer.  Until then, I’ll wait, while you enjoy.

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‘Have You Seen My Childhood?’…. 2nd Book Excerpt

Like Phil Collins’ ‘In The Air Tonight’ I had been waiting for this moment all of my life. Well maybe not my whole life because I was only 26, but long enough to know my destiny was at hand and with the life I had led I wouldn’t be knockin’ on heaven’s door.

The Glock 17 weighed a little less than two pounds and it took about five and a half pounds of pressure to pull the trigger, but you would think it would take more to release the pressure of the tug of war between me and myself, who knew I was the guy for the job? But something had to give, the man I actually was and the man I pretended to be had met at the cross roads of life and neither was yielding the right of way.

Who I pretended to be was a God-fearing, loving husband who if I could attend my own funeral would hear great words spoken about me as memories would be thought of and cried over. Sob filled voices would cast me in the brightest of lights, hoping that as my casket closed they wouldn’t fade away any time soon.

Who I was, was a man who only called on God when the weight of the world forced me to one knee, quickly forgetting who He was when trouble passed. Who I was, was a lustful husband whose sex addicted train of thought was too strong to consider loving just one woman. Who I was, was a man who had a way with words; tongue forked so bad that Saturday nights I could talk a prostitute in letting me pay for that pussy in installments. Come Sunday morning when the coffers were a little low I could give a resounding tithes and offerings sermon if need be. That’s who I was.

At this moment who I am was a man who held a loaded gun in his hand about to add to his list of selfish things, but me killing myself wouldn’t be the most selfish. My beautiful wife coming home to find me finally getting my mind right as I pushed my brain out the left side of my head wouldn’t even come close to being the most selfish thing. Or leaving my mother and father racked with grief wondering why their youngest wanted to play God and take his own life still wouldn’t come close to the most selfish thing I did. No comparison, it wouldn’t even come close.

The most selfish thing I did was the reason my destiny was calling me, the reason why no matter how weightless the gun felt or how effortless it would take to pull the trigger that one of us had to go. The guy who everyone thought they knew, or the guy I truly know. Either way there was a meeting at the crossroads and only me, myself or I could continue on life’s journey.

There was no pacing around the room, no trying to talk myself out of it, with no regrets and no sorrow. I never thought my grand finale would be so… final, but that was what it was. I guess I was about to find out just what born alone die alone truly means as I raised my right hand to my head and placed the barrel of the gun snuggly against my temple.

My trigger finger had about maybe two pounds of pressure left as I slowly pulled the slack off the trigger. Heading self-assured to my ending and knowing besides Lazarus there would be no resurrections; the only comforting thing that could be found in those last waning moments was the surreal calm that had settled in.

And in the calm of the madness of my life I had heard it again. The first time was during the act of the most selfish thing I ever did, said in a very pleading way. This time it was a little louder like a command that I should obey. Both times I knew it wasn’t my conscience because since I can remember, when I wanted to talk myself out of doing something I would call myself by my middle name.

They say that if you still yourself in the chaos of life and just wait on the Lord he will come to you. Now whether or not you believe me when I tell you this, but I know it was Him that simply said “NO” both times.

The first time I had figured I was too far gone and honestly I didn’t need or want saving. Can’t say much was different this time because I probably had about a half pound of pressure left on the trigger as the calm and silence had become deafening; only to regain my hearing to a loud and single… BANG!!!

Make sure you check out my 1st book excerpt to ‘Have You Seen My Childhood?’

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Catching up With DK Walker…..pt.1

(Join DK Walker as he brings us up to speed on what he has been up to during his hiatus in between novels)

Ok, let’s cut the fat and get to the meat of the matter; why the long delay in between putting out The Ugly Side of Sex and the scheduled release of Have You Seen My Childhood?

That list of reasons of the hold up is too long to name, but let’s just say that I want this one to be better than the last so I’m taking my time with it. Also since my next book, ‘Have You Seen My Childhood is a 180 degree turn from my first book I have to make sure the excitement, capturing the reader’s imagination, and strumming their emotional strings reads through out the book.

What do you mean when you say a 180 degree turn?

‘The Ugly Side of Sex’ was sex heavy, but ‘Have You Seen My Childhood’ is just as lustful minus the physical intimacy. What I mean by that is the dilemma that each character in the book faces, the reader will seem to face it too. The pull for the character to do the right thing will have the reader cheering them on, but ‘Have You Seen my Childhood” reflects real life so the reader can expect a moral struggle. Sometimes a moral decay…

Sounds grim.

But reads great.

So do you have any fear that since your first book focal point was sex and now this one will not be that readers won’t respond to it as well as they did the first?

No. Well no on two levels. First, ‘The Ugly Side of Sex’ admittedly was graphic in every erotic sense, but much deeper than the cover and title would have you believe it to be. Second the majority of my readers will acknowledge what they loved most was the story of it all.How it flowed, made you feel as you were there wanting to leave but scared you’d miss something if you did.

So you really believe that the readers of The Ugly Side of Sex got all of that from a book looking into a sex addicts life?

Check the reviews on Amazon.

Fair enough. So do you think you will be able to do it again, to spin a yarn that good minus the sex that people won’t write you off as a one hit wonder?

Of course I’m going to say so, but that will be left up to the reader to decide. I’m a betting man and love the odds of betting on me.

Earlier you said the reason that your second book is taking so long is because you want it to be better than the first, but don’t you think you may have lost the momentum you established from ’The Ugly Side of Sex’ book being received so well which might stymie the sells of your next book?

Yes I have and I have to re-establish a buzz, but I promised myself that there will never be that lapse in books being written by me again if I can help it.

And how do u plan on doing that? I won’t say you come off as a perfectionist when you comes to your work, but you are certainly anal about how you want your work perceived.

Anal? Is that your professional way of calling me an asshole?

No (laughing), not in the lease bit.

It’s cool, I’ve been called worse. And to answer your question I plan on releasing a book and one to two e-books a year.

Speaking of e-books, most authors feel as though this along with on-line retail is the main cause of major book stores and the mom and pop book stores closing. Leaving authors with dwindling places to do book signings. Do you feel this is true?

Very much so, but technology offers convenience and the consumer always wants their demand supplied easy. So as the old way of selling books and interacting with your readers is changing at a rapid pace, we as authors and publishers are forced to adapt and hopefully overcome. I mean if we are creative as writers than hopefully that creativity translate in a new way of doing business.

(check back with us as we finish chatting with DK in pt.2 of this interview as he will be answering questions on the status of novels he’s spoke of on blog talk radio, the good and bad relationships he has made in the literary world, and just who he think is the future of this business is. DON’T MISS IT)

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Have You Seen My Childhood….(Book Excerpt)

Harmless fun and pranks for others were sowing an early disconnect with the opposite sex for me. We had family that stayed a block down and around the corner from us who had recently moved into the neighborhood. It was my aunt and her kids (my cousins) and during the last month of summer back from our trip down south, we’d find almost anything to get into to beat away boredom.
It was usually my brother, Leonard, my cousin, Michelle, and me, out and about walking with no real destination in sight. Michelle would always be the one to get some shit started since she was older than me and my brother and was a big girl, even for big girl standards.
“Kevin, I dare you to go over there and rub that girl on her butt,” prodding me along into doing something crazy. Michelle would always pick the girl she thought was cute and her jealousy would show its green-eyed monster.
I would either rub or hump the girl on her butt and as soon as she would turn around, ready to whip my little ass, my cousin would look at her like, ‘bitch, I wish you would.’ Shit was too funny. We’d all laugh and if the girl was with friends they’d be laughing at her too.
Harmless fun or not, it was still wrong and the fact that I was a kid was lessening because even at my young age I derived some pleasure from it. So much, in fact, that I don’t even recall interacting with girls my age, at least not in a manner of liking them like girlfriend-boyfriend.
What I liked was always the older girls and women; the ones who had already filled out and must have had the magic of hypnotism in their asses when they walked because grown men would just stop and cars horns would just mysteriously blow. The fast ones that had sass about them; the ones my mother and aunt would sit on the stoop and debate about which one would be pregnant first. I especially liked the ones my old man and his friends were extra nice to. The nicer he was to them, the more hell my mother would give him when she caught him. And that was often.
I remember Pop-Pop took me, my mother and brother to a beach just outside of Washington. There wasn’t any white sand or clear blue water, but the place was filled with the type of women I liked, so that made it exotic enough for me.

My family was notorious for taking pictures for every little thing and a day at the beach was no exception. It was more-so my mom wanting to capture moments of me and my brother while we were young. I wanted to capture the woman who had set up her things right next to us and had to be my mother’s age.
She was a tall, plus sized woman with long dark hair, cocoa roasted skin, and all of her personals kept spilling out of her one-piece bathing suit. I stared at her impolitely and despite my age, my thoughts weren’t childish. And out of all of the non-childish thoughts, the one that slipped out loud was that I wanted to take a picture with her.
“Shit (remember the lisp so it sounds like shiiiiit), boy, you ain’t say nothin’ wrong,” was my father’s response to what I had said.
“Excuse me,” was my father’s first attempt at gaining the lady’s attention.
“Pardon me,” was his second.
“HEY,” was his third and most ghetto, so you know it was the one that finally got a response.
“My son wants to take a picture with you, if you don’t mind,” my father said, through smiling teeth and a voice that was pleasantly hidden in lust.
“Sure,” she said, as she rose up from her blanket. I don’t know who took a quicker inventory of her; me or my ol’ man. We were both making mental notes, but he was thinking and moving while I was just stuck, staring perversely. Offering her a hand up and just stopping short of brushing sand off of her butt, I could tell Pop-Pop had turned on that famous yellow nigga charm, making small talk in the process.
“Nigga, I know you done gone and lost your MOTHERFU** …” was all my mother could get out before Pop-Pop cut her off.
“Octavia, I’d like for you to meet Sarah. Sarah, this is my wife, Octavia.” My father introduced them like he didn’t do anything wrong, his voice still light in all its player glory.
“Nice to meet you,” Sarah said, extending a warm hand to my mom, only to be left hanging at the opposite end of a killer cold stare, in response.
“Baby your son wanted to take a picture with Sarah and she was nice enough to say yes. Now where did you put the camera?” my father asked leaving the three of us standing there. My mother was so hot that the heat coming from her gave both me and Sarah an instant tan.
Oh, wow . . . really? I know my old man didn’t just throw me under the bus. I mean it was the truth, but there was no need to tell my mom that. I guess that was in the player’s handbook to getting away with murder, even when you’re dead wrong and caught. Blame someone else because it’s never your fault.
My mom tore her hate-filled eyes away from Sarah and looked at me with that all too familiar look. If I could read her mind I could guess what she was thinking between the curses, ‘Just like yo’ damn daddy!’ But she said nothing else, just sucked her teeth real loud and walked away.
My father came back over right on time; of course, my mom leaving was his cue to return. He found the camera in the beach bag my mom had packed for us, apologized to Sarah for my mother’s apparent rude behavior, and fell right back into pretty yellow nigga player mode.
I honestly couldn’t tell you which was worse; the way my dad made my mom feel, the fact that Sarah saw how much trouble she was causing but didn’t seem to care, or that none of that even mattered to me since I was about to get what I wanted in the first place—a picture with Sarah. I mean, look at her all pretty and so womanly, thick as fresh honey out of a bee’s ass. Shit (in my father’s lisp tinged voice), I’d love to get stung by her.
“Kev, go head and get close to Sarah. Closer boy, she ain’t gonna bite,” my father encouraged me. Hell, any closer and I’d be inside her bathing suit. On second thought, that would’ve been a great idea. That was one thought I didn’t act upon as I put my arm around her. But being as short as I was, instead of hugging her waist I was clamped tight around her ample ass. I couldn’t believe my luck that something so big and round could be so soft too!
Sarah nestled me closer into her, as my father took his time taking our picture like he was Michael Gaffney (Muhammad Ali’s personal photographer) or something. He should’ve been, because I was feeling like the champ! The champ of what, I don’t know. But like a young Cassius Clay, I was feeling undefeated, undisputed, and out of control. That’s what was going on in my head and in my draws. Someone should have thrown in the white towel on me and my ol’ man as we took picture after picture, not leaving a single Polaroid for the family.

Something I Don’t Usually Do

One thing I hate about being an author is I don’t read others work as much as I would love to. Way before my love of writing I was an avid reader, page turner and book lover; now I want my thoughts and ideas that I put on paper to be close as my own as possible although there is nothing new under the sun.

Yesterday I treated myself and attended The Annual Authors Literary Festival in Richmond Va. and was glad I made the drive, breaking almost every speed limit getting there (something about rap music and a fast car that begs you to do that). Sans the quick pit stop at Chic-fil-A for the best chicken sandwich and lemonade known to man and I arrived 10 minutes before the next author was due for a reading from one of their books.

A who’s who of established authors to up and comers were there from Denise Jeffries, to Carolyn Merrimon, to Bridget Midway, to China Ball, to Lorretta R. Walls, to Savannah J. to a host of others including the beautifully uplifting Janice Pettaway.

My timing was perfect because due up next was the author I wanted to meet in person since listening to his blog talk radio show with the physically beautiful, but spiritually gorgeous Trice Hickman. His comedic yin to Trice’s calm and easy-going yang makes for a great talk show that I have fast grown a fan of in a very short period of time.

Author Brian W. Smith

Author Brian W. Smith took to the podium with an assured confidence that only a man with deep conviction of his work could posses. He eased his way into every space of the room; filling up whatever slight lull like the quiet before the storm as he made small talk about himself before delving into his latest novel ‘If These Trees Could Talk.’

He set the tone by informing those in attendance about the grown folk nature of the material he was going to share. He spoke in measured tones as his characters developed into tangible people who’s plight became our own.

The further into his story he read the heavier the tension grew in the room as the subject matter made some uncomfortable, others in denial, but all held at rapt attention as we all felt helpless, but eager to help.

He was reading form a child’s point of view into the sad and sickness of an adults perverted world. Like a car accident we are sorry that it happened, glad it wasn’t us, but couldn’t turn away and couldn’t stop listening; hanging onto each and every word.

If you had kids the parent in you was seething with anger, the need to protect overwhelmed you, and never more did the Old Testament rang true looking to exchange an eye for an eye. Painfully…slowly.

Brian ended his excerpt reading like he began, in measured tones. His harsh reality reminded us that true truths were so unpretty. He thanked us for our time, but we should have been grateful for his.

His reading reminded me of another novel that transcended racial lines and had everyone reading it. It grew so popular that Matthew McConaughey played the lead character in ‘A Time To Kill’ and uttered the words in the movie that was most pivotal, “Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury close your eyes; I want to share a story with you…”

Brian didn’t ask us to close our eyes, but he shared a story with us so vivid that it read like a movie that needs to be made. And in the process he had me do something I have never done since I began writing; I made my way over to his table and brought ‘If These Trees Could Talk.’

Couldn't find the latest hot model to pose with If These Trees Could Talk so I just found the cutest

    

Live- Raw Sex For The Youth- By Delano Johnson

THANKS, I APPRECIATE ALL THAT YOU DO

Special thanks to Team DK, 2011 was a great year I have learned so much from each of you and looking forward to 2012 as we take EN EL PUBLISHING over the top….

Team DK consists of Angela Reed Jones, Rhea Alexis M. Banks, Dominique Rose, LaTrisha Major, Candy Hall, Jennifer Robinson, Gayle Johnson, Brandie Randolph, Milwwiauthor Teresa Rae Butler, Denita Simuel, and my pit bull in a skirt that kills them with kindness, Marketing Director Ms Tanisha M Rankins

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Also thanks to each and every one of you who brought The Ugly Side of Sex and have shown your great support. Thanking YOU is the least I could do!!!

A Year Later and an Inch of Progression More…

The Washington DC 2011 AIDS Walk was unfortunately greeted with cold winds and pelting rain, but all who chose to attend brightened the event with great human warmness. The warmness that can only be found by being selfless and caring for a cause that transcends race, sexuality, religious beliefs, and most certainly politics.

The turn out wasn’t as large as it was in 2010, but the passion for the event wasn’t lessened because of a lower turn out. If anything the sense for urgency was felt more as AIDS and HIV is still claiming lives, but through awareness, testing, and contributions of time and money; we now more so than ever feel as though this is a winnable battle. A winnable battle not in the forseeable future, but a battle that can be won NOW by arming yourself with knowing your status, practicing safe sex no matter what, and treating those that has AIDS or HIV with unconditional love and support.

We could argue all day about the origins of AIDS, debate whether its God’s answer for population control, or still be closed-minded and feel as if it’s a ‘Gay’ only disease. Or we could devote the needed resources that we have from an inch of progression to  immeasurable success.

 

 

Washington DC 2011 AIDS Walk

The weather was cold and rainy, but the people who braved the elements were warm and caring as all involved are really pressing forward in their support of ridding the world of AIDS and HIV. Enjoy the pictures as I enjoyed the event…

Inspiration…

When your work has sparked a thought in someone and ignited something tangible you feel a sense of detachment and for me it struck a cord that began a moment or in this case furthered a movement. Mr Delano Johnson crafted an awe-inspiring poem based off of The Ugly Side of Sex that was so profound with raw and vivid truth I had to ask myself was I capable of being the flame to the fuse of the future of poetry, spoken word, and the new literary ‘MOVEMENT’? The answer really doesn’t matter because I am LUCKY to have Mr DeLano Johnson notice my work, be inspired by it and spew a master piece that will awaken the dreamers as they sleep walk their way through life and stopped living it. Hoping that upon their arousal from their slumber that a little three-letter word is looking to put them to sleep… permanently.

“Raw Sex For The Youth”
by Delano Johnson

The Ugly Side of Sex,
Can anybody hear her threats?
She’s a mass murderer that hides behind a round booty and pretty breast.
Wet lips,
And orgasmic magic sticks.
She shows no love or respect.
Over 25 million people gave their life for sex; they chose a little pleasure for an eternity of death.
What’s the risk?
Too many causes, countless incidences with statistics; but sex is socially cool, so nobody pays the facts any attention.
What’s the risk when she’s my best friend, but she never told me she had an infection?
She comes over in need of comforting,
Open bottle of Hennessey, and you are already 5 Vegas shots in.
A month of lust Recession, so in your stupor, even her smile gives you an erection.
Chaotic by hurt emotion, mad at past rejections, she lets you proceed with your sexual fantasy, and even encourages you to get a few good licks in, before she remembers to scream, protection!
What’s the risk when you ignore her warnings, because raw will enhance the satisfaction,
And increase the pleasure of this deadly sin?
It won’t be long before symptoms that were transmitted get detected, and you’re going to wish you used some lamb skin.
Now you have acquired human immunodeficiency virus, your body has gone retro, and you will never properly grow or reproduce because of diminishing cells.
Forget talking about guns and drugs, sex controls them all, and never will it be really illegal to sell.
Those who choose suicide, how does it feel waiting for hell?
I’m just speaking my mind, but the truth is HIV and AIDS are real.
Over 33 million are currently affected around the world.
What’s the risk?
Death…. because
Sex kills!
Sex kills!
Sex kills!
The Ugly Side of Sex.
Can anybody hear her threats?
She’s a mass murderer that hides behind a round booty and pretty breast.
Wet lips,
And orgasmic magic sticks.
She shows no love or respect.
Over 25 million people gave their life for sex, they choose a little pleasure for an eternity of death.
What’s the risk?
Well nothing, if you like sucking on long syphilis sticks.
Licking on gonorrhea, clap, clap, drip, drip.
No risk, if you just get up and wash the herpes off your lips.
Just accept the genital warts, because that’s how you really teach a princess to turn a frog into a prince.
Chlamydia all over her Victoria’s secret, but I promise her face looks like an angels wish.
And why would I lie when I say crabs are fun to itch …
What’s the risk?
If I did not care, at least I would be brave enough to say it,
But I would still be conscious and aware of how and to whom I say it,
Because there is love, but sex is much more relevant, but the power of words are the greatest,
And we need to donate experience to help the kids.
Not keep promoting and encouraging this mass murderer, it’s a massacre and we are putting our own names on the hit list, and inviting a future generation of kids, to do exactly what we did,
Because of sex tricks,
That thing she does with her tongue and the bubblegum lip-gloss on her lips.
The way he tells lies with lustful looks, implying that he is sexually serious.
Sometimes sex looks and smells like its rich,
Big booties with colorful shorts that don’t fit,
It’s cool to have the swagger of a pimp.
It’s cool to be the best ho, and the other word that fits, the word that starts with a b and rhymes with pimp ….
What is the risk to The Ugly Side of Sex?
Before a broken heart, and before the monthly checks, before you take that positive HIV test.
Before you talk about how good the intercourse was, talk about the injures and the death.
So at least if someone is forced to listen to some un-arousing erotic’s broken down with simple ignorant Ebonics,
Where insecurities are Chronic,
And syllables are stuck on phonics,
Elementary and meaningless, then at least they will know the risk.
You are only safe when you wrap it up twice, find love, and stay Monogamous.
I’m not just talking to all of you; I’m also talking to me.
Don’t take it personally, but understand this is personally from me
 No apologies, not even when the youth get relief. They need to understand that love is their friend and sex is their enemy; that has cost millions to die, and millions more to accept the defeat. For some sex there is no cure, injection, pill, or remedy. Some people kill because of sex, because of a good night and wrong choice you become a target enemy for something that only lasts a couple minutes anyway.
If you still don’t care, cut your condoms up and throw them in the air. Remember to teach your daughters how to back it up and pretend scream, and encourage these little boys to keep doing their thing, remind them that size does not really mean a thing. You should continue to reinforce that sex is cool, and for identification purposes, never looked shocked, when you see the realities of public school. Wear a warning label so everyone can stop getting expressions of sex and love confused…

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