Sneak Peek into Still Crazy III, The book many of you are waiting for!

CHAPTER ONE: THE RECAP
KEVIN ALLEN
I returned home from the hospital elated at the fact that my wife, Tamara and I had a baby boy. We named him David Lamont Allen after one of my oldest and dearest friends from the block, back in Chicago. I walked in our grand South Carolina home, relieved that my son was going to be okay; I had quite the scare when the doctors were trying to bring him in the world. I wanted to stay with Tamara, but I was tired and after such a complicated delivery, I’m sure that she was tired too. I walked in the house, peeled off all my clothes and went right to the fridge where I made myself a turkey sandwich and some iced tea.
I looked around my large house, the house that Tamara and I picked out and also the house that my ex, Yolanda practically burned down. I looked at all the nice things that I have. I looked at the cars in the driveway and then the pictures of me and my wife that were everywhere. I thought to myself, I’m really blessed. I can’t believe that I was so stupid that I almost lost everything. I sat on the couch and turned the TV to ESPN. I took a bite or two of my sandwich, drank some iced tea and pulled out a photo album out that was on the end table. In the album were many pictures of Tamara and me over the years. There were pictures of us when we first met, pictures of us in Vegas, at my book signings, in the classroom where she taught, and amusement parks that we visited over the years. There were photos from family outings, after-five events, and just us clowning around the house. In each picture we looked happy. In each picture, it was obvious that we were in love.
I took my time eating and drinking while slowly flipping pages through the album. Each photo meant something to me. With each photo I smiled as I remembered the events of that day. The last photo in the album was a photo of my wife in an apron in the kitchen looking fine as hell, as she made me a meal that was fit for a king. It was the last photo that I had taken of her. It was the photo of her that I had taken before I went back to Chicago. It was the last photo that I took of my wife before I cheated on her. I wish I could take away that one moment in time. I wish that just as the picture suspended that moment, that I had some great power where I could do the same thing with my life. With all the foolishness that I have done over the years, if I could change one thing, just one thing, I would never have cheated on my wife.
I stopped eating and looked at the photo. I ran my finger up and down the photo’s length. It was Tamara’s idea that I go back to Chicago for motivation for my next book. It was she that pushed me and supported me as she always had, to pursue my dream. She looked happy in this photo also. In this photo she was smiling. She had no clue that I was about to turn both of our world’s upside down. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I cheated on her.
“I’m so sorry babe.” That’s what I said to the photo aloud. A feeling of guilt washed over me. The woman in that photo was in love. The woman in that photo loved me unconditionally. The woman in that photo had no clue that the man she dedicated her life to, a man that doggedly pursued her, was about to cheat on her with a woman that was beautiful but meant nothing to him.
I thought about my error and the shit-storm that it caused. I laid the album on my chest and closed my eyes. I thanked God for allowing me to still have Tamara in my life. I remember when I met her. She was looking every bit as beautiful then as she does now. My wife looks like Jada-Pinkett Smith with an ass like Serena Williams and a smile that could stop time. I met her in a bar right here in Summerton South Carolina. She was listening to my friend, John Gandy play saxophone with his band. I knew from the first time that I saw her, that I had to have her.
I stepped to her and bought her a drink not knowing that at the time, she had a man. A country ass brotha named Keith. I didn’t care. From the first moment that I saw Tamara, I knew she was going to be my wife. Long story short, I walked away with her and never looked back. That is, until a few years later when I returned home to Chicago.
I was at the end of my publishing contract. In order to renegotiate a new contract, I had to “bring the heat” as author, Brenda Hampton would say. I needed a hard hitting story that would make my last title fly off bookshelves to the point where my publisher would do anything to get me to re-sign a new deal. Tamara was tired of hearing me whine about going through writers block, and suggested that I return home to Chicago for inspiration.
I got home and for a while, forgot why I left Chi-town to begin with. We have some fine ass women in Chicago and many of them are so fine and the sex is so good, they will make a man switch religions. I got home and was reminded very quickly how fine Chicago women are, and how aggressive they can be when they want something.
I did a book-signing for my sister while at home. After the signing there was a huge party and at that party walked in my ex, Yolanda. Yolanda or “Yogi” as I used to call her looked like Vivica A. Fox with twice as much ass (and ya’ll know that ain’t easy). Yogi walked in the event and pushed up on a brother hard. It wasn’t easy, but I walked away from her. After all, I was a married man, right?
I broke up with Yolanda, many years ago because back in the day, she was jealous, possessive and in my own words, “crazy.” I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was fine as hell. But she was crazy as hell too. She would fight at the drop of a hat, call me incessantly and accuse me all the damned time of cheating and call me 7-12 times a day when I was at work. Most men would have walked away from Yolanda. Me? My dumb ass stayed with her for more than four years. I stayed for two reasons. She was pretty as hell and the sex was off the chain. How good was the sex? She hit me with a damned Nissan Sentra, and I still stayed with her. You know the sex has to be incredible if a woman can hit you with an automobile and you stay with her crazy ass.
We dated for years and then one day I had enough. I had to walk away from Yolanda and it was as hard as getting off a drug. I thought about her many nights after the breakup and there plenty of days that I still wanted her sex, but I went away to school and stayed as far away from Chicago as I could, for fear of us starting our very dysfunctional relationship all over again. Yolanda and I fought like Ike and Tina, but the sex was like newlyweds each and every time.
I would later find out that the reason why Yolanda was as mentally unbalanced as she was. It was because her own father was molesting her for years. Clinically, the girl was a mess. I have no doubt that she genuinely loved me. I just think that she had no idea how to appropriately express that love. I mean, if she had, who knows? Maybe she would be my wife. Maybe she would have my child. I loved Yolanda with all my heart, but the shit that she would bring to the table was just too extra for me.
So anyway she shows up at the after-party of my book-signing looking simply stunning. I mean the girl looked like she stepped out of a late night video on BET. She was already fine as a young woman; as a mature woman? Shit, I could barely keep my eyes off of her. She was looking like my favorite dish after a month of fasting. Still, I walked away. I turned her down and went to see my favorite Chicago bartender, Adrienne at the 9705 bar.
I started catching up with Adrienne about things that had been going on in the hood, when in walks Yolanda and her girlfriend, Kitty. Kitty was a young fine MF that looked like Lisa Raye. Her ass was just as big as Yolanda’s, she had light hazel eyes and oh my God, she was just as beautiful. Turning down Yolanda was hard, but she was now making me an offer that I couldn’t refuse, when she walked in and convinced me that she and Kitty wanted to sleep with me. She pulled out the big guns with that one. There was no way in hell I could turn down such an offer (what man could?) so I took both women to a hotel and we had one of the most memorable sexual experiences of my life.
Unknown to me, Kitty and I conceived a child that night.
Yolanda was convinced in her unbalanced mind that we were a couple again.
My life was about to make a turn for the worse as I soon realized that Yolanda was Still Crazy!
Yolanda returned to being jealous and possessive. I was under the impression that we were just having a one night stand. She was under the impression that we were practically ready to be married. Kitty, as it turns out was just a day over 19 and barely legal. Thank God she was, or things could have gotten ugly had she been underage. I would have been the second prominent male celebrity in Chicago with a case against me for reportedly sleeping with an under aged girl. I had my one night stand and went on to find my next big story. I hung out in the hood, met a girl or two, and did my thing while kicking it in Chi-town. I met a sister in the hood named La-La and while trying to get my groove on with her, Yolanda threw a Molotov Cocktail in the front and rear exit of La-La’s house and almost turned my ass into a bacon crisp. This was the first attack on me, but it would not be the last.
I had finally found the story that I had been looking for and planned on using it to get my next big break in the writing industry. I had a story that was so off the chain that I thought publishers would be falling over themselves to get at me once they read the first draft. Yolanda stole the story that I had been working on, and tried to sell it to my own publisher. She sent Kitty away in a fit of jealousy, and she tried to kill my wife and set my house in Summerton on fire.
KEITH AND WENDY
While Yolanda was pursuing me, Tamara’s ex, Keith was pursuing her. He had a woman, but I guess he decided that he needed Tamara back. When I first met Keith, he looked like the below average dark skinned brother. I mean, this nigga was sporting a curl, had gold teeth and was looking like Akon on steroids. Keith’s woman, Wendy cleaned him up pretty good over the years. He was already going to the gym religiously, but Wendy made him take lessons from a professional trainer, he took his fitness regimen to a whole new level. Wendy then made him moisturize his skin and made him cut his hair. When Wendy was done with Keith, the finished product looked so good that he became my rival, and my enemy. He went from looking like Akon on steroids, to looking like Morris Chestnut in the movie The Best Man. He pushed up on my wife and from what I understand, was able to at least steal a kiss from her. He and I had the mother of all fights in my front yard. The police came and locked both of our asses up. Wendy taught Keith the same lesson that Tamara taught me, which is if you have a good woman, hold on to her otherwise you may lose her to the next man.
THE LOVE I LOST…ALMOST
Speaking of losing, I almost lost my wife to my infidelity. Tamara found out about Yolanda and almost divorced my ass. Tamara decided to give me a second chance, but not until after this issue with Yolanda had been dealt with. Tamara and her mother and sisters put a plan together to catch Yolanda. My wife and her sisters not only set Yolanda up smooth, they beat her ass and had her institutionalized. Hell hath no fury, right?
Tamara forgave me. I don’t know where she got the strength, but she forgave me. Black women are amazing, ya know? She forgave me and we tried to piece our lives together again. Tamara decided that she no longer wanted to be a school teacher and that she wanted to go to culinary school. I supported her decision and she quit teaching to return to school. I eventually got that big book deal and payday that I was looking for, and I made enough money to support us both.
The last day of Tamara’s employment with the school, Kitty shows up at my doorstep in the Carolinas and leaves our son, Noah on my doorstep. She left the son that I never knew I had.
I had just gotten things back on track with my wife, when this shit happened and because I didn’t want to lose my wife, I tried to convince Kitty to put our child up for adoption. If not adoption, then I was going to use my financial resources to get sole custody, and then put our child up for adoption. Yeah the shit was wrong, but I couldn’t see raising a child for 18-20 years and with each breath that child takes, my wife be reminded of my infidelity.
Tamara found out about the BS that I was pulling and you know what? She had my back. As always, she had my back. I am so damned lucky to have her in my life. Tamara made me man up, and take responsibility for my child. In the meanwhile, I have been doing any and everything to make things right between us. The first time that she allowed me to make love to her after my infidelity, we conceived a child. I swear I will never cheat on her again. I swear I will be the best man that I can be for her.
After Yolanda tried to burn our house down, Tamara totally re-decorated it. I think the pictures of us that are everywhere are there to remind me of what we used to have and to remind me of what I can have again. Things are no where near perfect between my wife and me, but I think we are back on the right track again. I looked at my wife’s photo and spoke to it.
“I’ll never let you down again babe… I swear.”
I finished my iced tea, ate the rest of my sandwich, and cleaned up the house for the next hour or so, and then took my ass to bed. I thanked God for my wife and my new son, David.
I then drifted off to sleep.




CHAPTER TWO: GUESS WHO’S BACK?
KEVIN
I awoke from a sound sleep to a thunderous knocking at my door. It was 6AM and I thought to myself that something must have been terribly wrong. I shook the cobwebs out of my head as I glanced at the clock wondering what could be so terribly wrong this early in the morning. My wife had just had my son, David. The first thing that I thought was that something had either happened to her or my son. I grabbed my robe and raced down the stairs to answer the door. A million thoughts raced through my head as I ran through the house. I said a quick prayer in hopes that my wife and child were okay. The knocking became more insistent and as I got closer to the door my heart pounded even faster. I snatched the door open and my breath was taken away as if Jesus himself had come to the door ready to take me to glory.
It wasn’t Jesus.
In fact, it was just the opposite.
It was the devil’s daughter, my ex-Yolanda. My jaw dropped as I turned a whiter shade of pale wondering what brought her here. I opened the door, but upon seeing her I took a few steps back as if I had seen a ghost. I shook my head no as I backed away from the doorway. It was like death was in my presence and I retreated in my home to escape his embrace. I pinched myself to the point that I thought I might have caused such a bruise, my blood would not clot. I did so, in hopes that this was some terrible dream. I became light headed and lost focus as my ex-girlfriend and one time mistress, stood in my doorway with a child in her hands; a child that was the same complexion and had a similar resemblance to my son Noah.
“Say hello to daddy Jada.”
“Yo…Yolanda?” I said in a confused voice.
“Hey baby, I’m back!”
“Back? Wh-what the hell do you mean back?” I stuttered.
She walked by me and into my home. I was now stunned and speechless. I looked up at the heavens as if to ask God, “Why?”
“This is the end.” I said as tears began to stream down my face.
“Oh no baby, this is just the beginning.” Yolanda replied as she walked by me and headed toward my living room couch. She sat on my couch with confidence. First I was terrified, then I became sad and almost as if it were scripted, I became mad…enraged, that she was here in my home and back in my life. I rubbed my temples and my robe came open. Yolanda looked me up and down from head to toe as if she liked what she saw. She looked at me as if she were remembering the last time that we were together in the biblical sense. I immediately closed my robe and tied it with authority. I then sighed.
My eyes darkened and I frowned at Yolanda. She looked at me and smiled while frowning back. She was mocking me. I was trying my best to pierce her soul with my stare, and she was showing me that she was not intimidated in the least by my looks. She turned her back to me and began to attend to the baby that was now lying on my couch. She was a beautiful little girl that at first glance, looked as if she could indeed be my child. I closed the front door and sat down right there by the door on the floor. Tears were still coming down my face. There was no way in hell I could hold onto my marriage now.
“That’s right, take your time and get focused. I know this is a lot to take in baby.”
“Ba…baby?”
“Yeah, you don’t mind me calling you baby do you? Now that we are back together again, I thought that was more appropriate then Tiger. Tiger sounds so…high school.”
Tiger was the nickname that Yolanda had for me when we first started dating back in the day. She called me Tiger and I called her Kitten. Hell, for a long time I had forgotten about those nicknames. Those were our pet names for one another in the late nineties. Now, all these years later, she still looks at me affectionately and every time that I see her, I am ready to throw up.
Yolanda is a stunning woman. She still looks like Vivica Fox with a lot more ass. I don’t know what they were doing for activities in the mental institution that housed her, but apparently exercise was of her regular activities. Yogi was looking more fit than she has ever been in her life. She had on a sweat suit and a sports bra. Her abs were rock hard and her ass, man…well anyway, she was in great shape. Her hair was long and vibrant looking, and her body was one that most women would die for.
I looked on at her as she tended to the baby, and sat in awe at how lovely and normal she looked. I wish that she was normal. Then she could get on with her life and not be so fixated on me. Yolanda looked normal, but she was like my grandmother would say, “As crazy as a Betsybug!” I looked at her as if to plead with her to leave my house. When a look of desperation did nothing to move her, my expression again changed to one of anger and rage.
“Don’t start that shit.”
“What?” I said.
“Don’t start that shit; getting angry with me or acting like that other ho is still your priority. We both know that is only going to pit us against one another and we both know that in that battle, you lose.”
She was confident, almost arrogant. That part of her had not changed. I guess that ass whipping that my wife and sister in laws put on her did not leave a lasting impression. I thought about my next move. It dawned on me that if anyone was going to put a stop to this, it had to be me. No matter what, I needed to handle this now before things got out of control. With Yolanda, I have leaned that shit can go from simple to complicated in a millisecond. She can be lady-like and normal-acting, but she could go ghetto and deranged in a heartbeat.
“Yolanda, you can’t do this. I won’t let you interfere in my marriage again. Dammit, I will kill you where you stand if…”
“Don’t you dare fucking threaten me in front of our child!” She said with authority. Her tone was so strong and so sharp that she actually gave me a moment of pause. I shook that shit off and tried to come at her again, only her words threw me completely off.
“Our…what? How is this even possible?”
“Do you need a timeline?”
“Yes. I mean, no…Yolanda you have to get the fuck out of here.” I said pointing toward the front door. “I just started getting my life back together again.”
“Well, you have a new addition to your life now and now that we have a child. I am a permanent fixture in your life.”
“Fuck that!”
“What?”
“You heard me, fuck that!” I said as I began pacing the hardwood floor.
“I see that you all remodeled the place. It looks nice.”
“What?”
“The house. It looks nice, since the fire.” She then winked at me and smiled. I looked at her again and pointed in her direction. All the muscles in my arms tensed up. I didn’t say a word but she could tell that I was at the highest point of pisstivity.
“Ooohhh, Aggression. It looks sexy on you baby.”
“What?”
“So, you want to release some of that built up aggression or what?”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“As serious as cancer.”
I let out a heavy sigh. I walked back over to the wall by the door and slid back down. I needed space between Yolanda and I, otherwise there was about to be a murder in a small town. I threw my head back a few times pounding it against the wall. This was not happening. This shit just couldn’t be happening. I closed my eyes and said a small prayer.
Jesus, please…how much punishment can one man take for one night of sin? I mean, come on God, it was one night. Haven’t I been punished enough?
“Yolanda…why me? You’re a beautiful woman, why can’t you find someone else? I mean really, why are you here? Why can’t you just move the hell on with your life?”
“I’m glad to see after all this time you still think that I’m beautiful. I kept myself in shape just for you baby, I’m glad you like it. I love you too baby.”
“Is that all you heard? All you heard is my saying that you are beautiful? And as far as love goes, I didn’t say that I loved you. I said…”
“Sshhh. I heard what you said baby. Let me put Jada to sleep really quickly and we can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk. I want you to get the hell up out of my house.”
“Shhh. She’ll be sleep in a minute and we can finish this discussion then.”
She gave the small child a bottle and rocked her to sleep. Yolanda never took her eyes off me. She smiled and looked at me affectionately. I on the other hand sat on the floor and plotted my next move which included brief thoughts of homicide. I put my head in my hands and prayed to God to waken me from this nightmare that was my life.
Lord just take me now! I said in my head.
Then it dawned on me that I put myself here. Yolanda was my first love. We dated for over several years and she and I always talked about marrying when we were younger. That is, until somewhere along the way, she had a psychotic break. She was institutionalized because unknown to me, her father was molesting her. She was fine as hell, but she was a fucking basket case.