Peace On That

Ok, here it is folks. I thought it would take four or five hours to write my first novel but it only took me 20 minutes. To think, I could bang out an entire series in a day. Y'all have a good weekend. I'm going to work on the next installment in my romance novel series. I'll call it, Memoirs of A Playa.

I'm going to mail it to some critics this weekend. I'll post their response on Monday. In the meantime, why don't I just unveil my latest work of art.

AND NOW, THE WORLD PREMIERE OF JAMES MANNING'S FIRST ROMANCE NOVEL. IT IS SURE TO BE A CLASSIC AND THE READERS OF THIS BLOG ARE PRIVILEDGED TO READ IT FIRST. WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... MIDNIGHT BOOTY CLAP... BY YOUR RESIDENT LIBERAL AND FOOTBALL FANATIC BLOGGER, JAMES MANNING!!!!

Clarice had waiting anxiously for Marsha’s knock at the door. She was waiting for the strikingly handsome and enormously wealthy Trevor Carrington to visit. He was the richest black man in Louisiana. Tonight would be the night that Trevor would leave his wife. She would become first lady of Louisiana. After years of dating Mookie Jenkins, a bookkeeper on her father’s payroll, she found it refreshing to be courted by a distinguished gentleman.

Mookie knew of the affair and warned her about Trevor Carrington but Clarice chalked his rants up to Mookie's insecurity about the size of his swanker. And in her heart she knew that if he was right about Trevor, Mookie would find a way to save her and forgive her. After all, he was the county's official Captain Save-Ah-Ho.

“Ms. Clarice, you have gentlemen caller,” said Marsha interrupting Clarice’s thoughts. “Shall I have him wait in the library?”

“No. I want to see him right now. Have him wait at the bottom of the stairs.”

“Yes ma’am. “

Moments later Clarice stood at the top of the steps looking down at the dashing Trevor Carrington. She could feel the rolls of passion bristling through her body as she watched the remnants rain trickle down his chocolate, Jean-Claude Van Damme-like structured jaw.

To ensure that her gentlemen caller would not take his eyes off of her, Clarice slowly walked down the stairs, making sure her hips swayed to the songs from Isaac Hayes’ Hot Butter Soul album her father played in the next room.

At the bottom of the stairs, he reached out her.

“Good evening Ms. Clarice.”

His voice barreled towards her like a Barry White intro. Clarice was so overcome she wanted to drop it like it was hot in the foyer.

“Good evening to you Mr. Carrington,” Clarice responded in the most elegant southern accent she could muster. “have you come to tell me what I want to hear.”

Trevor’s body tensed and the rain on his chisled jaw was replaced with sweat. “Can we talk about this in private?”

Clarice escorted Trevor to the study. Trevor entered first and Clarice closed the door behind her. She stood with her back to the wall as she watched Trevor pace back and forth in the study.
“You know what I want,” Clarice said, breaking the tensed silence.

“Yes I know, but my darling, you have to be patient. I can’t do Shelly like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I could lose everything.” Trevor ran over to Clarice and pulled her close to him. She could feel the strength in his arms as she tried to pull away. Their eyes were only inches apart. “Darling, if you want to be with me, and want me to leave Shelly, then you must take her place in every way.”

“You mean…”

“Yes.”

“You want me to get on the pole?” Clarice pushed Trevor away and placed both hands over her face. “You’re asking me to work at the Booty Clap?” Thunder suddenly erupted. Clarice turned to see her reflection in the window. Raindrops pranced elegantly across the glass, sheilding Clarice from the moisture that congregated in her eyes and fell victim to gravity when there was no room left to contain the evidence of her heart's pain.

“Darling, you could be a star. We could be rich. Honestly, Shelly has fallen off. But you,” Trevor reached for Clarice’s shoulder. “You on the other hand have a booty banging off the tracks. Like Mos Def said, yo ass so phat you can see it from the front." Trevor, feeling deperate falls to his knees and takes Clarice's hand. "This is my last chance. Without you, there will be no more applause at the Booty Clap. I will lose everything and your father will disown me. You and I will cease to exist. Besides, I can give you the most coveted time slot.”

“Which is?”

“Midnight.”

“Midnight.” Clarice turns to face Trevor “I know you're in financial trouble. And I know there are men out there that would pay to touch this. The fact is, many of them are not ready for this jelly. But my darling Trevor, I can’t do the pole. What would my Daddy say? There has to be another way.”

“I wish there was my darling. But the only way to save us… is for you to show that ass.”

WEEEELLLLLLL!!!!!

Will Clarice’s love for Trevor overcome her trepidation of working at the Booty Clap – even if she has the prime time slot?

Will Mookie show up in time to save Clarice from the pole?

Will Shelly go quietly from the Champaign Room to the Henny Box?

Do you actually give a damn?

If you do, then run out and purchase this critically acclaimed romance novel by first time novelist, James Manning. You’ll find this book at garage sales across the country for only $1.99. Don't miss being one of the first to recognize this rare talent in the romance novel genre.