See Hi-Res Jpeg image

Xpress Yourself Publishing, Summer 2010
ISBN-10: TBA
ISBN-13: TBA
5½ x 8½ inches
Trade Paperback
$TBA

Purchase The Shades of Passion:
Barnes & Noble
Borders Books
Amazon
 

Also available in major bookstores everywhere.

Xpress Yourself Publishing, LLC, and its entities, does not sale or rent email addresses. We respect your privacy!

SERVICES
About XYP

Academic

Booksellers

Catalogs

Library

Submissions

XYP Speakers

XYP AUTHORS

Allyson M. Deese

Baba Evans Moore

Bill Holmes

Chris Berman

Delorse A. Brown

Hazel Mills

Jessica Tilles

Kenda Bell

LaVerne Y. Adekunle

Linda R. Herman

Makenzi

Mia A. Moore

Michael J. Burt

Nathasha Brooks-Harris

Patricia A. Bridewell

Rekaya Gibson

Robin R Robinson

S.B. Redd

Sean XLG Mitchell

Stacey Covington-Lee

Tina Martin

Tinisha Nicole Johnson

Victoria Wells

Violette L. Reid

Versatility was one of author S.B. REDD'S strengths during his fifteen-year career in print journalism. Although he worked primarily as a sports reporter, he also wrote capably on topics like religion and politics as a free-lance writer for a national magazine.

"It used to be back in the dark and dingy days of smoke-filled newsrooms the sports reporter was regarded as your best and most versatile writer on the staff," he says. "We were the ones who brought the action before a reader's eyes. We were the ones whose jobs depended on meeting tight deadlines. I think out of jealousy, a stigma was affixed to our craft. I can't tell you how many times I was viewed as just a sports writer when I expressed an interest in non-sports writing jobs, although I had proven myself otherwise."

Mr. Redd's debut novel, Temptation.com, which was published by Xpress Yourself Publishing in 2009, is a scintillating work of erotica fiction that delves into online dating and sexual and online porn addictions.

"I think some people who have known me over the years may not be surprised that I would actually write a book; they may be more surprised with the genre," he says. "I'm not going to say writing erotica is the perfect fit for me. I will say that my print journalism background probably helped me with the ability to write with detail and putting the reader into certain scenes."

Mr. Redd had aspirations of becoming a sports journalist as a sixth grader. He worked on newspaper staffs in junior high school, high school and in college. Upon graduation from Texas Southern University, in his native Houston, he worked for more than a decade at daily newspapers in Texas, Florida, Virginia and South Carolina. He earned a reputation for delivering hard-hitting and cutting-edge news stories. In 1999, he was nationally recognized by the Associated Press Sports Editors for the best news story for all newspapers with a daily circulation of 50,001 to 150,000. 

He currently resides in Columbia, South Carolina, with his family. 

Visit S.B. online at  www.myspace.com/maverickbooks or www.maverick-books.com.

Excerpt (Unedited Version)

Archie adjusted the Tag Heuer watch that was awarded to him when he ranked among Nissan’s top national salesmen in 2003. He made sure that his shirttail was tucked after he spotted a green late 1990s model Mitsubishi Galant turning into the parking lot during the twelve o’clock hour. He noticed the driver before Canada did, so he picked up his gait to catch a glimpse of who was driving. Then he heard the brakes squeal, an obvious sign that it needed brakes and possibly more.

    Humph. What a fucking joke. He immediately thought the car might appraise for $500 outright for wholesale if it were traded in. It had bogue written all over.

    The lady inside the Galant appeared like she wanted help. Archie gave her the benefit of doubt after he noticed her smiling at him. Meanwhile, she guessed Archie looked the part of a salesman by the way he strode in her direction. She lowered her window to inquire in a sweet voice. “Hey, I wanna get a new car –”

    Archie hastened to align his tie over the buttons before greeting her. His stature and velvet tone that absorbed the sunlight was magnificent. She poised herself to test his personality. She believed she could form an immediate impression of him by the first words he spoke.

    He extended his long arm in the direction of dozens of cars in his proximity. “I’m pretty sure we could make that happen for you. As you can see, we’ve got a pretty good selection of inventory –”

    She noticed he didn’t try some sorry ass debonair move. He didn’t ask her how much she wanted to pay per month or if she had any money to put down. He appeared to be all about business, which she liked. He seemed serviceable for her objective.

    “Good. Where do I park? I don’t have a lot of time to be playing with some ignorant salesman.”

    Humph.

    She’s gotta be a member of the PBA (Professional Bitches Association), he thought, because those were women who put on fronts claiming to know everything that could be known about the car buying process. They portrayed themselves as hard negotiators only for the salesperson to find out they had bad credit, they owed too much on their vehicles to trade in, or both.

    Once Archie spotted their weakness, the advantage was his and he often exploited it for a handsome commission. On occasion, some of these PBA members would recognize just how good of a specimen Archie was, and they flirted with him. It often meant he fielded a lot of pussy thrown at him.

    This lady was of a mocha brown hue with a few blemishes on her face. She had long, brown hair that was styled to the back with faintly fine hair that formed sideburns; she was tall, five-eleven, and on the full-figured side, yet shapely; she had a discernable waistline and round hips supported by a well-defined backside.

    He decided on introducing himself by his first and last name while using a Welcome-to-McGirt’s-Nissan-Emporium greeting.

    “And your name is?”

    She quickly lifted her hand to his while barely making contact. She portrayed herself being impersonal and on some mission. “Trenette’s my name –” She shared with Archie that she had been a fan of the Nissan Altimas ever since the third-generation body style was introduced for the 2002 model year, which happened also to be her final semester at the state’s university in Knoxville, Tennessee. She told him the story that her parents felt they had done enough by supporting her through four years of college; she was her own in her car buying endeavor.

    He coyly asked for her last name, which she said was Harrell (pronounced HA-RELL, not HAREL). He led her over toward the Sentras and the Versa hybrid vehicles just to see if she was serious about her interest in Altimas.

    If she discussed payments of no more than $300 a month – a common figure desired by many of the black women that he encountered – he wouldn’t have to venture too far. But she reacted to his steering her in that direction by reminding him they were to be looking at Altimas.

   He apologized for the mishap. “I actually thought we had already gotten there. I was really concentrating on what you had to say.” Then he went into his product knowledge synopsis. “So are you aware that there are some changes to the Altimas since that first model year? Like, they’ve changed the front lights and grills, as well as the rear lights?”

   Trenette, twenty-seven, wasn’t fazed by his product talk. She wanted his opinion on something less trivial. “I just like the way these cars look. I think they would make me look sexy – don’t you think I would?”

    Looking sexy? Just what in the hell this woman was trying to get over? He brushed his hand against the right side of his face, and then the left. He probed for more answers.

    “I bet you’re, uh, into a light colored Altima?”

    “How did you know?” He explained to her that he was an eleven-year veteran of the car business, and some questions became rather instinctive to ask.

    “And do you prefer cloth seats over leather seats, uh-huh?”

    “I like cloth, for sure. I just like the way it feels against my skin when I wear short pants or a skirt like today.” It was a valid point. A leather surface would be too cold in the winter and scorching hot in the summer.

     Just for the hell of it, he allowed Trenette to step in front of him so that he could steal a glance at her backside. He studied how the skirt to her off-white business suit clung to her ass; he definitely liked the way her cheeks bounced. He was quick to assume she carried herself too proper, and she spoke with too clear diction along with exuding too much confidence to be a secretary.

    “Do you mind if I ask you what type of work that you do?”

    “Why do you want to know?”

    He stopped in mid-stride and folded his arms, smiling at her. “Some times I’m able to help people find a car that they like because of their job. See, doctors and lawyers tend to buy Mercedes, BMWs and Lexus. A school principal tends to buy a Toyota Camry or Avalon, Honda Accord, Maxima, or even a Buick. It’s nothing personal. Just a way I try to do my business, uh-huh.”

     She conveyed a dismissive look at him while turning her nose up to him. “Well, I’m a newspaper reporter.” Humph, more like Ms. Big Shit Reporter, Archie thought. She further divulged that she worked for the Greenville Herald, and that she had been there for the past three years. She was also proud to inform him that she was the paper’s business editor.

    Humph, no wonder, he thought.