Team Petty

Okay, this is going to be a short one, but I had to say it after viewing a couple of pictures on Facebook. And what I’m about to say, is going to solidly put me on team petty. But I’m also on the Zero F*cks Team, so… Here goes nothing.

A small part of me- Who am I kidding? A large part of me rejoices inside when I see guys that I used to like or crushed on back in the day that didn’t give me a shot because I wasn’t the “standard of beauty,” who are just as fat and roly-poly as me now. Ha!

And I’m not talking about the guys I had crushes on that didn’t give me the time of day. I knew when a guy didn’t find me attractive in the least. I’m talking about the guys that flirted with me, were willing to make-out with me or that I was intimate with or who wanted to get intimate with me behind closed doors. Yeah, those guys. Almost every lady-D.U.F.F in the history of the world has been through this.

There’s nothing worse than a man being attracted to you, but he denies it because he’s worried about what his friends or other people are gonna think. That is the lowest of douchebags.

So to see that guy you adored, turn into a full-fledged D.U.F.F himself, is the best thing since sliced bread. Karma gave you a Dad Bod! Just saying…




The Storm In A Black Woman’s Mind



The Storm In A BLack Woman’s Mind I wish I knew the artist who did this! But I do not claim this as my own.


I’ve seen this artwork circulating around social media off and on for a while now. Every time I see it, it speaks to my soul. But no time, as much as right now. The recent events in this country and the world has me sad, depressed, and lacking motivation in all areas of my life. My fitness goals, which I’m proud to say that since the first week of January, I haven’t missed a full week of working out. But now, I’m lacking the motivation to go every day. My writing has also taken a hard hit and I’m finding it nearly impossible to immerse myself in the fictional world I was creating. I tried not to let it, but 2016 has been a beast and we’re only halfway through the year and it has officially burst my nicely insulated bubble.

As anyone knows or has gathered from my previous blogs, I’ve always felt like I was on the outside of the black community. My writing though has opened up a world of amazing black women that I can finally relate to, as well as causing me to spend a lot of time on social media in recent years, talking about and promoting my books. Which opened up the world I was trying to hide from. The ugly parts.

You see, purposely (and forced sometimes) staying in my bubble with my white and Latino friends, gave me a false sense of security. Where I could pretend that the level racism and racial bias that infects the world, weren’t that bad.

But with every killing of innocent and unarmed black men and women, being brought to light with videos from camera phones and the speed in which to upload them.

Every article about relationships and how black women aren’t wanted for whatever reason, by white and black men alike.

Every video or ad of some fashion magazine appropriating black and brown culture, renaming it and calling it trendy after telling black and brown people they looked ghetto, unkempt, and/or unprofessional with the exact same style.

Every time a black man turns up his nose at my natural hair. Brainwashed into thinking a black woman’s hair in its natural state isn’t beautiful. A natural state that grows out of his own head, by the way. 

Every troll that makes racist comments about a model’s big beautiful lips, while non-black women are praised for having “black features”, see Kylie Jenner for the lips and Kim Kardashian for the ass, just to name a few. Or they harass a wonderfully funny and beautiful black comedian. Or they attack the President’s daughter because she was accepted to Harvard, not unlike many 1st children that have been accepted to Ivy League schools.

Every Trump supporter that screamed, spit, and punched at black, brown, or Muslim protesters.

BLMEvery person dismissing our cries and woes by telling us to shut up with “All Lives Matter,” when it’s apparent they could give a sh*t about black lives, so, in fact, we don’t matter, which then turns into a vicious argument that circles round and round.

Every movie that comes out about the Kings and Queens of Egypt (a country in AFRICA) they depict them as tan white people or any other whitewashing done by Hollywood to other ethnic cultures. Yet, in turn, the minute someone wants to put a black man as James Bond or make Iron Man a little black girl, fictional characters I might add, people get butt hurt. FYI: sorry to burst your bubble, but Jesus was BLACK (hair of wool and skin of bronze and all that)!!! A real person who is always depicted as a white man. That goes for Moses, The Lone Ranger (Yes, the Lone Ranger was based off a real black man named Bass Reeves), Cleopatra…

Every blog post, I read about the publishing industry not being diverse enough, only for them to ask white authors to write about diverse characters, instead of actual people of color (ME!), only to get it so wrong that it’s offensive.

Every time only one… ONE of the thousands of literary agents is “woke” enough to see that there are little to no representation for children of color in YA novels and has to call out to authors of color for their stories because no one else will (I submitted my YA novel to her and she was, of course, inundated with queries because there are so many talented authors of color with stories to tell, for children who are thirsty to read them).

Every time we’re just trying to have fun, like everyone else, but literally get kicked to the curb because we’re not supposed to have that much fun.

Every famous black person who advocates for fairness and equality in this country (which is not unreasonable to ask for) who then gets called racist and a petition is made for him to get fired from his job. Essentially telling us we don’t have freedom of speech either.

Every black man who decides to fight violence with violence (which is actually very few) and everyone automatically assumes we all want to kill cops because we couldn’t possibly have our own minds. And then the day after the Dallas attack on cops, a cop trails behind me and then rides slowly along beside me, basically saying “Give me a reason.”

Every time my dad and mom leave the house and I have to not think about what may happen to them, or trying not to worry about my brother in Chicago or my nephew that is dark-skinned, tall, and muscular. By the way, none of us have any criminal records or are violent in any way, but that won’t matter to the wrong cop if we move too fast or not kiss enough ass.

Every article, I read about cities in Europe where black skin is welcomed (there shouldn’t have to be articles like that) and then one of those cities I was thinking about visiting gets attacked during a festival (can’t win for losing).

Every time a black athlete’s career is essentially ruined and endorsements lost because of mistakes in his private life(see, Tiger Woods). But Maria Sharapova gets banned from tennis tournaments for the next couple of years because of performance enhancing drugs in her system and then she gets into some Harvard business program.

Every time a black woman is viewed as so strong that her needs are neglected or she’s looked down upon because she needs help. But a white woman stubs her big toe and a battalion is sent to tend to her (See, Taylor Swift). Or when a black woman falters or is fighting depression, her mental health is ignored by her own community as well as others. Because “we don’t get depressed, we just need Jesus.”

With every single one of these, and keep in mind that I’m probably missing a ton, my bubble has burst. In fact, it burst so violently, it was like a tornado ripped my house right off of its foundation. And now I’m standing in the middle of this sh*t-storm brewing around me and in my head with no signs of letting up because these things keep happening over and over again, throughout history for centuries with no end in sight.

Does it make sense now? Does all of that finally outline some of the turmoil a black woman faces? And believe me, I’m just scratching the surface. Education, housing, employment, health care, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera…

Yet, we’re constantly called angry. Did it ever occur to you that we have every reason to be? Here’s a pair of my shoes… Try walking in them for a few days, let alone 37 years. I bet you’ll be angry AF. And my suburban upbringing isn’t even close to what people of color in urban areas have to deal with. Wear their shoes and your head would explode.

***Post may be amended as other issues come to mind.***

Ghostbusters Review


Columbia Pictures


First and foremost, let me just say…GIRL POWER!!!

Ahem… Sorry, I got a little carried away. Anywho, I’m normally not a big fan of remakes. In fact, they usually piss me off. Every time one is announced, I roll my eyes and think, “Seriously, Hollywood?!?! Your asses can’t come up with something original?! Umm…you have a writer right here that has a sh*tload of ideas swirling in my head. And I know a bunch of other writers that can contribute too. And guess what? We’d definitely bring a hell of a lot more originality and diversity to the table and I can bet ya!”

Again, I digress. So, anyway, I normally hate remakes. But when I heard that they were remaking Ghostbusters with an all-female cast, I pretty much did a fist punch in the air. Why? Because it was a big deal, that’s why! It’s important for young girls to see women as scientists, and being pretty badass while doing it. The classic sex kitten, damsel in distress, pretty girl with zero brains, etc is played out. So this was perfect.

And these ladies did not disappoint. The movie was hilarious! Like- belly laughs and tears pricking the eyes- kind of funny. The special effects were phenomenal. And I loved all the added Ghostbuster equipment Holtzmann (SNL‘s Kate McKinnon) created. Oh, and of course, Chris Hemsworth was more than just much-appreciated eye-candy. He was also hysterical. All the cameos made by the original cast were a treat as well.

The only real criticism that I have is at one point during the 3rd act, they relied heavily on the special effects and action to distract away from the lack of humorous dialogue. Other than that, I thought it was fantastic! Oh, and I wouldn’t have minded a black female as one of the scientists too. But I suppose we’re making baby steps in the right direction and at least she was a self-taught historian. So I give it 4 and 1/2 enthusiastic stars!!!

Good job, ladies!

Can I Love White Men and Still Support BlackLivesMatter?


So, obviously I’m a black woman. I’m also a black author that writes Interracial Romances. As well as being a black woman that has had mostly white and Latino friends most of my life. A black woman that has dated the rainbow, but mainly white men. I’m also a black woman that supports Black Lives Matter. Is that even possible, you ask?


I’ll admit, as soon as I saw the hashtag BlackLivesMatter, I was like “Oh sh*t, here we go!” Not because I didn’t see the need for the movement. But because I knew, I KNEW, whites and some non-blacks were going to lose their ish over it. And I was right. So I remained relatively silent on the issue because I have white friends that I didn’t want to alienate. I also have new black friends through my writing who have posted articles and videos and stories about injustices that I couldn’t ignore.

As tension grew in this country, I unfortunately or fortunately, depending on who you’re talking to, could stay silent no longer. Just because I find an attraction to men of races outside of my own and friends with little to no melanin, does not mean that I have forgotten that I have a black father, brother, nephews, uncles, cousins and friends. These men are my world and I would be devastated if they were taken from me so senselessly. This goes for the black females in my life as well. So I will stand with them and demand for justice and equality.

That decision has created tension and ended some of my friendships with friends outside of my race. And in the coming months, I have a feeling I’m going to lose more. It is unfortunate and sad. But when I see wrong, I’m going to point it out. Luckily, I have reached some friends and proud to say that they stand with me. And for that, I can’t thank them enough. There are the good, the bad, and the clueless on both sides. Just like, not all blacks are criminals. Not all whites are racists. Click here for perfect example.  So any man that I date, is going to be sensitive to our plight or he can get to stepping. And that goes for my friends too. Because you better believe that if black cops were killing blonde, blue-eyed white people just for being blonde and blue-eyed, I’d be calling or texting my friends asking if they’re okay and if they’re staying safe. And I’d stand by them in a heartbeat. Just like I stood against and condemned Trump for his racist and xenophobic remarks about Mexicans and Muslims. So as friends and/or lovers, if I can’t get that same level of caring in return… Bye!

I’ve also seen that a few of my IR author friends and avid readers are feeling conflicted writing and reading Interracial Romance in these trying times. I even had to collect myself and stepped back from my own story I was writing. But to my IR community, I say, don’t feel guilty for reading or writing about Swirling relationships. The majority of us authors aren’t writing about racist A-holes. We’re writing non-black men who love and cherish their black women. And there is nothing wrong with that.

And to anyone wondering, “Wow! She’s changed.”  Or, “Wait! Doesn’t she date and write about white men?” No, I haven’t changed. I just didn’t talk to you about my struggles because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. And the internet as well as social media has made the world smaller, so in turn my eyes have been opened. Yours should too. And yes, I date white men or other races, but that’s because my heart is wide open to love everyone. My love has no limits. Maybe yours shouldn’t either.

Male Body Image


This post is going to be terribly politically incorrect, but oh well. The truth hurts.

So, I hear that men are beginning to have body image issues. And quite honestly, I don’t feel sorry for them. Now, don’t get me wrong, I never want to purposely hurt anyone. But the thing is, men have been turning their noses up at chubby women for years. And I’m not even talking about just muscle bound and physically fit men. Even overweight men, guys with ‘Dad-bods’, and any number of other imperfect men have been turning a blind eye to average or plus-sized women for years. So turnabout is fair play.

bodyimage4Women have been starving themselves, throwing up in secret, going under the knife and killing themselves at the gym, all to fit this idea of perfection that the media perpetuates and men demand. But now, with the rise of internet sensations like Brock, Lasse, Travis, etc. As well as superhero movies, where the actors kill themselves in training to get superhero bodies. Starting, I believe with Wolverine, Captain America and Thor, guys are now starting to feel the heat as women swoon over these buff bods.

uglymanprettywoman4But the things is, and why I don’t feel bad for these men struggling with their body image, is because unlike them the majority of us ladies may drool over these works of physical art, but we still have no problems dating and/or marrying the average guy, the plus-sized guy, or the scrawny guy. But men will look at a hot woman in a magazine or draped over the hood of a car in a calendar, and then expect to get a girl that looks just like the models. And I see plenty of man-DUFFs passing up fellow lady-DUFFs to head straight for the hot chick. Men with ratings of 1-6 trying to get 10s. Basically, in DUFF-denial.

So sorry guys, sympathy for you is lost on me.

***I do not own the rights to these photos. They are the property of the owner***


To My White Friends…

Or Any White People Who Have Black Friends,

At this time, I or your Black friends have heavy hearts. I’m fighting back tears. I had a hard time falling asleep last night and that rarely ever happens to me. Not just because it seems like my people, my community is under attack. Or that I’m terrified not only for myself, but for my father, brother, and nephews. But my heart is also heavy because you, people that I call friend, some even best friend are so damn silent during this time of tragedy in the Black community. Where are you?

Growing up, many of my Black peers were not nice to me because I was different. The way I spoke and the things I liked were different. But my White and Latino friends accepted me for who I was. Now that I’m older, I’ve found that my friendship with some of you has come with conditions. We’re cool as long as I don’t bring up race or racism. Thank God my writing has introduced me to many Black women that are similar to me. Otherwise, I’d have no one to talk to about what’s happening in our country. Especially, since you’re all so…damn silent.

Aside from the normal worries, like car accidents and stuff like that, have you ever worried about your husband, father, sons, brothers, nephews or cousins going about their day and possibly not coming home? Have you ever had to sit down and explain to your young male relatives how to conduct themselves when dealing with the police because he’s tall and muscular and would be perceived as a threat? Have you had to think about what you’d do if faced with unfair treatment and/or accused of something based off of the color of your skin? Have you made sure that when you’re shopping that your hands can be seen at all times or that you don’t reach into your purse or put your phone into your purse because you don’t want anyone to accuse you of shoplifting and it turning into a dangerous situation? Those are just a few of the realities of life as a Black person in America. That is my reality. One that I haven’t talked to you about, because most of you don’t want to hear it.

I know some of you are uncomfortable with #blacklivesmatter. I guess you feel like a traitor if you say it or type it. But I think it’s pretty clear to see that Black lives are under attack. And more so than many other skin colors. So how does stating three words make you a traitor to your race, when it’s the truth? Do I have to pretend as if I’m Matthew McConaughey in A Time to Kill talking to an all White jury? Do I have to say, “Close your eyes, now imagine she/he was me? Will that get your attention? Will that finally get you outraged? Or am I deluding myself into thinking that you actually cared enough about me to be outraged? I should say instead, “Close your eyes, now imagine they were white?” because maybe that’s the only way you’ll care.

Standing up against what is wrong, does not a traitor make. When I say I’m pissed when I posted about these injustices, I’m not saying I hate White people or cops. I’m friends with both. I’m saying, I hate what some White people and cops are doing. Which is the same thing most Blacks who are outraged are saying. But one of the only ways to fight the brutality and racism in this country is to do it together. To say something…anything, when you see some garbage that isn’t right. I’ve seen a few, and I do mean a few of you post about the injustices done to people outside of your race. But those few are not enough. If you’ve called me friend, spent time with me, love me, why can’t you just say something? Because maybe if you lead by example and you say something, your White friends that don’t know any Blacks will say, “Hmm…maybe they have a point.” Because it’s obvious that Black cries are falling on deaf ears.

So seriously, if you call me friend, stop being so damn silent. Or one day I may be silent.

DivaCup Review

Men do not enter! This is not for you! Well, unless you’re a decent forward thinking guy that wants to help out the women in your life. In that case, continue reading. But it is about to get a bit graphic so that women interested can have an honest review and knowledge of this product.


Now, I’ll be the first person to tell you that I thought the idea of a menstrual cup was disgusting. I have a friend that is very all natural and organic. I say hippie, but she hates that comparison. Why? I don’t know. Anyway, she was the first person to tell me about the cup. She was also the first person that I personally knew that knew someone who died from TSS (Toxic Shock Syndrome) from a tampon. You hear about it. You get the warnings from your mom when you start using tampons. It’s written on the paper insert inside every box of tampons you open, but you just don’t think anything of it. I even saw that video of the model who lost her leg because of TSS. So it is real, but many of us don’t think we have any alternatives. Well, we do.

I decided to try the DivaCup because I was tired of buying multiple sanitary products. I have thin pads with wings for the regular and light days. I have giant overnight pads that look almost like diapers for almost every night of my period, because I will literally bleed all over everything if I don’t. I also buy regular absorbency tampons for the first day of my period and the last few days of my period. And then I have the supers for my heavy days. And let me tell you, my heavy days are heavy AF!

I also wanted to try the DivaCup because I eventually want to do some serious traveling in the future and I didn’t want to worry about packing up a bazillion products. So I thought, “What the hell, let’s give it a try.”


The DivaCup comes in two sizes Model 1 and Model 2. Model 1 is for women under 30 who haven’t had children. Model 2 is for 30 and up and who have had kids. I chose Model 2 since I am 37, but I haven’t had any kids.

I’ll tell you this, you will learn a whole hell of a LOT more about your body than you could imagine. I’m 37 and I thought I knew my hooha pretty well. NOT! I found out that I have a pretty short vagina. Not surprising since I’m only 5’1″. The DivaCup is a little long for those with shorter vaginas and can irritate the labia, especially if you’re not used to it.

It also takes a little time to figure out how to insert that sumbitch. And for the love of God, please clip down your fingernails to the skin!!!! My nails aren’t even that long and I was cutting the living sh*t outta myself! I’m gonna try my best to explain how to insert it. Fold it the best way that works for you. Start to insert it back towards your tailbone, not up. As soon as you get the rim inside of you, let it go so that it can pop open. If you push it way up there and then try to let it go, it will not suction properly to your internal walls, which will cause leakage. After it opens, then start to rotate it up until the little tail is the only thing you can feel. And try to get it WAY up there, because like I said before, it’ll irritate your labia if you don’t. So get it up there, but not so far that you can’t grab the tail.

The DivaCup has four measuring lines etched into the sides. One side measures ounces and the other side measures milliliters. So now you can actually calculate how much blood you lose in a cycle. For those that wondered, “Do I really have a heavy flow?” can now find out. I calculated mine and let me just say…HOLY SH*T!!! Average flow is 30-40ml. Women with heavy flows are around 60-80ml or more. Guess what? I’m more! Like over 100ml!!! After a while, I just stopped calculating, because I started to get depressed. And keep in mind, my flow has calmed down a bit since I got in my 30s. WTF?!?! I should be dead! No wonder my periods have always been the messiest nastiest days of my life! And no wonder why my friends didn’t seem to have the same issues as me. WHY???? Why me God!?!?!

Anyway, Day 1 of my period, I had zero leakage and I only needed to empty the cup once or twice. Though I did more because it was my first time using it. But it did not pass my overnight test. Luckily, I know my body and still wore an overnight pad. This truly saddens me. Day 2, I had to keep more of an eye out and had to empty the cup way more. But remember, that’s because I’m extremely heavy. Normal women won’t have that problem. And Day 3 was the same.

So to sum things up. I really liked the DivaCup. Once I figured out how to get it in and to get it way up there, it was a lot easier and more comfortable. You definitely don’t have to change it as much as a tampon. It holds a decent amount and you can finally track your blood loss. And it’s not nearly as disgusting as you’d think. Just remember, it’s your blood, not someone else’s. There’s nothing to be disgusted, grossed out, or skittish about. For me, it’s only downfall is the overnight leakage. And that may not be the cups fault, but my heavy flow’s doing. And it also comes with a cute little discreet pouch for when you’re not using it. All-in-all, it’s pretty freaking awesome. I give it 4 stars. And keep in mind there are other menstrual cups out there that might work better for you. I’ve read that Lunette works great for women with shorter vaginas. So I may be trying that out in the near future.

I just want ladies to know that we have more options than what has been given to us. And in the process we can help the Earth while we’re at it. Less pads and tampon applicators in landfills, the better it is for the planet. Give it a shot. It just may help your pocket book too.