sample sunday. two minute warning.

Can y’all believe it has almost been a FULL YEAR since my last Sample Sunday?

(Don’t answer that. We’ll talk about it later lol)

I am SOOOO excited to be back to share a sample from my next release, Two Minute Warning, which will be book two in the Houston Skyhawks series.

If you haven’t read book one, you can grab that here.

And if you have, continue reading to meet this season’s hero and his leading lady 🙂

(note: sample is unedited and subject to change because stuff happens lol)

“Kiki. That’s your real name?”

“It’s what everybody calls me.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” he challenged, making me a little hot between the thighs because his voice was so deep, and a bit raspy, and deliciously commanding.

In fact, his entire demeanor felt commanding, but in a quiet way. Like, it seemed as if he could take control of the room at any time if he wanted to and was just choosing not to.

I liked that shit.

“I’ll tell you my real name when you tell me yours,” I flirted, cutely raising my personalized red cup to my lips for a quick sip that the man watched intently before he finally gave me an answer.

“I’m Snoop.”

Giggling, I argued, “That is not your real name.”

“It’s what everybody calls me,” he mocked, making me roll my eyes as I groaned, “Very funny.” But after another sip of liquor, I held up my end of the bargain, telling Snoop, “My real name is Shakira. But literally no one ever calls me that.”

“Why not, Shakira?” he asked, the amused smirk on his face once he said it somehow telling me he was about to drag that shit out. But from him, I kind of liked how it sounded, even blushing a little by the time I answered, “Cause people know me as Kiki.”

“Do you not like being called Shakira?”

“Not two times in a rowww,” I thought, squeezing my thighs together and gnawing at my lip before I told him, “I mean, I don’t hate it, but…”

“Good,” he stated sharply. “Cause I think it’s a beautiful name.”

Okay, now I was definitely blushing to the point that I was slightly annoyed by it because I wasn’t some googly-eyed, super warm in the cheeks ass chick. In fact, I was usually the one making the niggas blush. But with Snoop, I was already in a deficit, trying to play catch up when I batted my eyelashes and asked, “So you gonna tell me your real name now, or…?”

Bringing his cup back near his lips, he peeked over at me and responded, “Nah, I’m good.”

“Aww, you must be embarrassed by it then,” I cooed. “Is it ugly, or just old sounding?”

“It’s neither,” he chuckled.

“What’s it start with?”

“Starts with a K like Kiki,” he replied with another smirk, making me roll my eyes as I sucked my teeth and muttered, “You’re lying.”

“I’m for real,” he insisted.

But I still didn’t believe him, loosely crossing my arms over my chest as I asked, “So where did Snoop come from then?”

“My last name is Dogwood.”

“…okay?”

“Snoop… Dogwood.”

Even with him putting it together slowly, it still took me a second to realize, “Ohhh. Like the rapper. That’s very nineties baby of you… Kevin?”

“Wrong.”

“Kyler?”

“Wrong again,” he taunted.

“Why are you making this so hard for meee?” I whined, happy to see him grin about it even when he responded to my question with a question.

“Why do you wanna know so bad?”

“You’re at my party, in my kitchen, drinking my liquor. The least I could do is know your name.”

He’d nodded along like I’d made a good point. But instead of responding as such, Snoop said, “I don’t drink liquor. And you do know my name.”

“So if you pass out and the paramedics ask me for your government name, I should tell them it’s Snoop?” I challenged, thinking maybe that would help him see the importance of sharing. But instead of taking my hypothetical situation seriously, Snoop responded with a closed mouth laugh.

“That’s not gonna happen, Shakira.”

“But if it did?”

“Then yeah, tell ‘em it’s Snoop,” he smirked, taking another sip of… whatever it was he was drinking as I rolled my eyes and groaned, “You’re difficult.”

“Am I? Or are you just easily frustrated?”

Just as my lips parted to address his accusations, I heard a familiar voice ask, “You good, bruh?”

“Yeah, I’m coolin’, big dog,” Snoop responded, dapping up the person I had a feeling would be able to get me some answers.

So without wasting any time, I asked his friend and mine, “Hunter, what this nigga’s name?”

Since the two of us had already been standing here talking for who knows how long, Hunter was confused by the question, his left eyebrow raising a bit as he freshened up his cup while answering, “It’s Snoop.”

“No, like his full name,” I pressed.

For whatever reason, that made Hunter grin before he used some stiff ass voice to announce, “Kendall Dogwood, quarterback out of the University of Tennessee.”

The way Snoop… Kendall gave Hunter a little push to his arm told me he must’ve been mocking him, the extra intel making it easy for me to pile on when I teased, “Quarterback out of UT? Was I wrong to call you a nineties baby, Kendall?”

The question finally made him blush a little.

“Don’t play me like that.”

“I’m just sayin’. Y’all college boys are looking a lil’ older in the face these days,” I quipped, knowing good and damn well this grown ass man was far from some recent graduate. But it was still fun to tease him about it, especially once I caught a glimpse of his dimples when he asked, “You really think you funny, huh?”

“Just happy to turn your frown upside down, sad boy. Or should I say… Kendall?”

Licking his lips, he took a step closer towards me. And I wasn’t quite ready for the way his gaze seemed to intensify as he stared right into my eyes, taking me all in before he responded, “You can say it. I don’t mind.”