Mini Synopsis: Wesley Laurence Kelly, an uber-wealthy Gay/SGL African American media mogul battling a split personality due to intimate partner violence and childhood sexual abuse, must confront a ruthless crime lord and deadly secrets before everyone and everyone he loves are destroyed.

Excerpt One:

Wesley has become Walker—his devious, manipulative alternate personality.

In the massive boudoir, sprawled across the bodacious bed, Walker lies in wait for Antonio, his significant other. Antonio has no clue that the man he loves is no longer Wesley.

Walker is now the dominant personality—and he intends to keep it that way.

“Wes-lee, I’m hooommme!” Antonio bellowed from just right outside the door, sounding suspiciously like “Ricky Ricardo” from I Love Lucy, the iconic sitcom.

“Ah ha! You’re playin’ hawt AF singer Emilio Diego,” he grinned.

“What exactly is goin’ on witcha?”

“C’mon in and find out, Pa (Antonio).”

With a quickening heartbeat, a pounding pulse, an adrenaline rush, sweat trickling from his brow, and of course, a rapidly stiffening and swelling in his loins, Antonio threw the door open!

The unexpected sight nearly made his eyes pop out of their sockets.

He stopped dead in his tracks! The only thang in motion was the baseball bat swinging from side to side between his titanic thighs.

Lawd y’all, Walker/Wesley was servin’ up his glorious globes–twisting and shaking them from side to side–a little here, a little there.

They were anticipatory! Inviting. Welcoming.

“Hey, Baybee,” he purred and slurred, “What…what took ya soooooo long?”

Pause.

“Gawd knows I’ve been missin’ you.”

Pause.

“And needin’ you.”

Pause.

“So, so bad.”

Double Pause.

“And how’s your brother Pito, by the way?”

BigGuy (Antonio) quietly closed the door behind him.

As he slowly approached the bed where “Tha Temptin’ Tease” was provocatively gyrating, BigGuy found himself totally hypnotized by the bubblelicious bootay.

Then, Antonio’s tone softened.

“At this moment, it’s ALL about you.”

Walker instantly countered, “About us.”

Rolling flat on his back, the alter slowly ogled BigGuy from head to toe before teasing, “Really now? You sho’ about that?”

“Oh, I am.”

Then Pa hooted, “By the by: Eartha Kitt you ain’t! And you know dis.”

Rumbling with laughter, he inserted, “And none of that “Santa Baby” shit! It ain’t Christmas yet.”

“Anything for you, BigGuy.”

Pause.

“And I do mean ANYTHANG.”

“No mo’ of dis verbal foreplay crap,” Antonio growled, playfully. “I’m fuckin’ hongry.”

And at the speed of light, he bailed out of his green muscle shirt, shorts, and sneakers.

Tossing his maroon Full Bulge briefs at his expectant playmate, Pa was a bit surprised at how effortlessly he snatched them out of the air.

He raised an eyebrow! Wes had never been that agile before.

Walker rubbed the undies across his face, taking in Antonio’s earthy, musky aroma. As his “Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love” approached, he pitched the drawers to the side and rolled back onto his stomach.

Carefully, Pa hoisted his impeccable physique over his papi.

Hovering above Walker in the push-up position, Antonio nuzzled Walker’s neck and tongued his inner ears.

“Ohhhhh, fuck yessssssssss! Baybee, you feel soooooo fuckin’ good,” Walker squealed, losing himself. Antonio’s hot breath, labored breathing, and pulsating heart were such a freakin’ turn-on.

And let’s not forget that leaking, raging erection grazing across the phat muscle azz, which was feverishly focused on gaining entrance into the quivering butthole awaiting The Anal Rapture.

“Let’s git rid of dis collar and jockstrap,” Pa grunted.

“They’re nice ta look at, but so, so to-ta-lee unnecessary.”

Next, BigGuy scooted down his Papito. His sturdy, meaty mitts stroked and squeezed.

Oh, my gawd,” he thought. It’s been wayyyyy too long since I’ve done this.”

“Oh yassssssss,” cooed Walker, completely inebriated by the fierce warmth radiating from Antonio’s mighty but gentle hands.

He opened his gym-built thighs ever so wide. “CA—Complete Access”–was the name of the game, after all.

Slowly, “Top Man” guided “Bottom Guy’s” bodacious body toward the edge of the massive bed. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he hopped lightly onto the floor and settled into a powerful squat.

After spanky-spanking the melons just enough to warm them up, those sturdy hands pulled the firm cheeks apart.

As he peered into the pinkish-brown opening, his eyes widened.

“Wha tha fuck???” Antonio smiled. “It’s winky-winkin’ at me! Oh, hell yeah!”

And yo! Da Dick jumped…