Meet the Author of Lovers Anonymous

Location:
African American Library and Cultural Center
2650 Sistrunk Boulevard
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33311 US

When:
Saturday, June 7, 12:00PM

Phone:
866-230-5692

Email:
xavier@loversanonymousbook.com



Please join me for a discussion and signing of my book, Lovers Anonymous, in the Diane Bienes Seminar Room. Books will be available for sale and refreshments will be served so please invite your friends. If you have not yet read the book, you can preview the first 2 chapters by sending an email to xavierpjr@gmail.com. I also encourage you to read a review of my book by Ingrid Moore. The review is followed by an interview. You can check it out by clicking here.

I look forward to seeing you,

Xavier

Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Eleven: Spiraling Down

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.../...

Jack stood up abruptly, “I’m sorry Xavier but my decision is final. There are no other options on the table.” Jack waited for me to stand. I rose slowly to my feet but I couldn’t believe this was happening. Once I was standing, Jack came around the desk and put his hands on my shoulders. “Xavier, you’re an incredibly bright young man. Don’t throw your future away. Get help.” I was speechless. Jack led me to his door, opened it and gave me a firm handshake. “Good luck Xavier.”

After an awkward pause I managed two words, “yes sir,” turned and walked away. I was too stunned to be angry. All I knew was that I had to get the hell out of there.

I went to my office and sent an email to my staff advising them that I was taking the rest of the day off. My motorcycle had been stolen a week earlier and it was taking a while to get a new one issued to me so I called Jean and requested a driver to take me home. I explained that it was urgent and that I didn’t care about the new director’s updated policies and procedures. I needed a driver and I needed one immediately. Half an hour later, Jean called to tell me that a driver was waiting for me in the parking lot. I shook my head, “the fucking parking lot?” I wanted to give Jean a piece of my mind but I understood that he didn’t want to get in trouble. The parking lot wasn’t visible from Jack’s office. Once we got under way I was tempted to stop for a drink but I decided against it and went straight home.

That night I went to the Flamenco. I was determined to drink as much as I wanted and be at work on time the next day. I didn’t have a fucking drinking problem! I just had to be more careful and not drink on an empty stomach. Better nutrition, more rest, exercise, not push myself so hard at work, if I did all those things I’d be fine. Of course having a fucking girlfriend who understood me would be nice too. But fuck Liz. Fuck all the bitches!!! I didn’t need them.

As I sat brooding over a tumbler of Jack Daniels, Bryan came over and sat across from me. “You OK Xavier?”

I looked at Bryan. He’d been my friend for many years. If there was anyone I could talk to it was him. “Let me ask you something Bryan, do you think I’m an alcoholic?”

Bryan smiled, “No Xavier, I don’t think you’re an alcoholic…” Bryan’s smile became a grin, “…you’re just a good old-fashioned drunk!” And with that he burst into raucous laughter. It took Bryan a while to realize I wasn’t laughing. Once he did, he put a hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry buddy, I’m just an old-fashioned drunk myself so that makes two of us.”

I forced a laugh, but there was nothing funny about Bryan’s comment. He had described me perfectly; alcoholic was too fancy a label for me, I really was just an old-fashioned drunk; exactly the type of person who would sleep on the sidewalk. Bryan offered me a zombie on the house to cheer me up. I gladly accepted it but after just a few more drinks I went home. I needed booze more than ever, but I just couldn’t enjoy it like I used to.

.../...


Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Ten: Home Again

Check out the latest review of Lovers Anonymous. I’m the writer of the Month for February on the Ingrid’s “Through my Eyes” web site. Check out her amazing review, followed by a really informative interview:

http://ingridspeak.wordpress.com/2008/02/01/the-extrordinary-xavier-peirre-jr/

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That night, I took Liz to the Flamenco for dinner. Though she knew I was a regular, I had never taken her there and she never asked why. We arrived dressed like we were going to a cocktail party. I was wearing navy trousers and a burgundy shirt. Liz wore an asymmetrically cut, midnight blue dress and heels. Her hair was up, revealing her long, slender neck. Pearls hung from two-inch gold chains on each ear. The matching gold chain around her neck had a pearl every two inches. Liz was beautiful. I opened the car door for her, offered my arm and walked her the short distance to the entrance. The security guard stood up as we approached and greeted us with a huge Cheshire cat smile. “Good evening Mr. Xavier, good evening Madame.”
I wondered why he was acting like such an idiot, but politely I said, “Evening Max.”
Liz just smiled at him as we walked in. Heading down the hall, I got a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Maybe it was a big mistake bringing Liz there. But it was already too late. We descended the steps down to the bar, and everyone turned to look at us. The place was full of regulars. I knew just about everyone there. Bryan and Roland both smiled from behind the bar; in fact, all the men were smiling. Many of the women were smiling too, but a few weren't as they sized up Liz. I walked past the bar with what I hoped was a neutral smile, and gave a general wave as I continued walking with Liz.
My intention had been to walk past the bar and straight into the restaurant, but Roland came around the ban with a big grin and cut us off as he extended a hand to Liz. “Welcome to the Flamenco.”
Liz shook his hand as I made the introduction. “Liz, this is Roland, one of the owners and one of my best friends. Roland, this is Liz.” By then, Liz had put her free hand back on my arm. After an awkward pause, Liz squeezed my arm and I realized she and Roland were both waiting for me to elaborate. “Liz is my girlfriend.”
“Oh, that's wonderful,” Roland said with an even bigger smile. “No wonder we haven't been seeing you as much lately. Now that I've met Liz, I can see why you wanted to keep her all to yourself. Let me get you guys a waiter.”
Liz was all smiles as Roland signaled for a waiter to come forward. Even with our backs to the bar I could feel several dozen sets of eyes boring a hole in the back of my head. By the time we were seated, it had only been a few seconds, but it had felt like an hour. After helping Liz with her chair and putting a menu in front of each of us, our waiter was about to go but I stopped him. “Paul, please bring us a bottle of Concha y Toro.”
Before Paul could answer, Liz interrupted, “Honey, we don't need a whole bottle of wine,” then she turned to Paul, “Two glasses will be fine.”
“Yes Madame,” Paul answered.
“Wait!” I said, “I'm gonna want more than one glass.”
Liz put a hand on my arm. “Baby, you can have another glass, but you don't need a whole bottle.” She looked at me with pleading eyes and said softly so only I could hear, “Please baby, for me.”
Turning to Paul, who couldn’t help smiling as he stood there waiting for us to finish, I put on a fake smile and said, “Well, there we have it, two glasses of red wine.”
Paul nodded. “Right away Mr. Xavier,” he said, and then turned and left us.
Liz moved her chair closer to mine and put a hand on my knee. “Baby, please don't be mad, but you don't need to drink so much.” As her hand moved up my leg she continued. “You don't need alcohol, you have me. Drink me baby. As much as you want, anytime you want.” She leaned forward and kissed me on the ear.
I turned towards her and kissed her. It was a little kiss with very little feeling behind it. “Okay baby, you're right. I'll try to drink less.”
Somewhat appeased, Liz said, “Thank you baby.”

.../...

Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Eight: The Villa Creole

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That week we talked on the phone everyday and finally Friday came. At four o'clock, Liz arrived at the office with a small suitcase and I had a driver take us to the hotel.
The Villa Creole was a wonderful place. Although near the heart of Pétion-Ville, everything was designed to give a feeling of secluded luxury. A private road led off the main street and past the El Rancho Hotel, another landmark of the city. One Sunday a month, I would spend the day at the Villa. Almost always I came alone and stayed all day drinking, resting, and sometimes reading by the pool until well after sunset. I would have lunch by the pool and an elegant dinner in the dining room. This was the one place where even though the staff all knew me by name, I made no effort to know theirs. I was always polite but I went there to get away from everyone, not to socialize. The Villa was my secret hideout. The only exception was Sam, the bartender. Being on a first-name basis with the man who poured my drinks was an absolute necessity for someone who depended on booze as much as I did.
The driver parked under the canopy and I helped Liz out of the Jeep. The entrance to the hotel was a showcase of elegant Mediterranean style with distinctly Haïtian accents. All the wrought iron gates and security bars throughout the hotel were decorated with intricate patterns in the shapes of hearts, crosses, and stars, the traditional symbols of Haïtian folklore. Contrasting nicely with the iron work around the lobby were paintings by Haïtian masters. The lobby may have been the showcase, but the entire hotel was an art gallery. While Liz looked at the paintings, I walked up to the front desk and the manager on duty, a very professional looking young woman, greeted me with a smile. “Well, Mr. Pierre, I see you'll be spending the entire weekend with us. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you.”
As I signed in, I said, “I’m sure everything will be perfect as always, but if I need anything I won’t hesitate.” I was about to walk away when I had a thought. I turned back and flashed a quick look at her name badge. “Actually, there is something: flowers. Can you have the room filled with flowers? And a bottle of champagne, of course.”
“Mr. Pierre, flowers on such short notice…” The manager looked in Liz’ direction and then smiled at me. “Let me see what I can do.”
I was relieved and very grateful. “Thank you, Maude. I really appreciate this. Use your discretion and put it all on my account.”
Maude couldn't hide her surprise. In the two years she had worked at the Villa it was the first time I had ever referred to her by name. “Of course, Mr. Pierre. Always a pleasure to serve one of our best clients.”
“How much time do you need?” I asked.
She considered what needed to be done. “At least thirty minutes, but no more than an hour. Why don’t you have some drinks at the bar and I’ll let you know when everything is ready?”
“Perfect,” I said with a smile. When Maude realized I was trying to make eye-contact, she smiled shyly and lowered her gaze. It suddenly occurred to me that Maude was a very attractive young lady and I wondered why I had never noticed before. Then I remembered Liz, turned, walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her. “Honey, let’s go have a few drinks and relax.”
Liz reached behind and grabbed my ass. “Can’t we go to our room first and check things out?”
As tempted as I was, Maude needed time to fix the room, so I had to distract Liz. Besides, I could always use a drink. “Oh, baby! Do behave.” My Austin Powers impression wasn't very good, but it made her laugh. We took our bags and went to the bar. It wasn’t far but to get there we had to go through a large open area with a grand piano on a round platform about fifteen feet across. The platform was layered in white marble. In fact, all the floors in the public areas of the hotel were tiled with various shades and colors of marble. Beyond the piano lounge and down six steps was the formal dining area. Beyond that and down another six steps was the main bar.

..../...


Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Nine: Summer Vacation

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.../...

On the way to her aunt's house, I stopped at a liquor store and bought a bottle of cheap vodka and some double-mint gum. I hated vodka but, along with being high in alcohol, vodka had a very important property: minimal alcohol breath. The gum was to make absolutely sure. When I got to the building, the bottle was down to three quarters. Daisy buzzed me in and I went up to the fourth floor apartment.
“Sorry I took so long,” I said. “I had to make a stop on the way and pick up something for my mother. If I had forgotten, she would have killed me.”
“It's okay,” she said, “the only thing is that my aunt will be here in less than an hour and you can't be here when she comes home.” Daisy led me to the couch. “I'm sorry. I thought she’d be out longer.”
“It's okay,” I said. Daisy was wearing a pair of tight black shorts and a t-shirt that would have been fairly loose if her breasts weren't so full. And with the little slippers she wore on her tiny feet, she looked absolutely delicious. Reminding myself that I could only touch her hands, I swallowed hard and closed my eyes to get my focus.
“You okay?” Daisy asked.
“Fine,” I said as I opened my eyes with a smile, “but I have to say, you look good enough to eat.”
Daisy giggled. “Stop it, you're embarrassing me.”
Realizing that time was short, I reached out and took her hand. As I did, I squeezed it gently and smiled at her. “It’s true, you have very sexy legs and please forgive me for saying this, but you have the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen.”
“Stop,” she said, “you promised to be good.”
I could tell from the huge smile that every word was making her warm inside. “I made no such promise. What I said was that nothing would happen that you weren’t comfortable with. I didn’t say a damn thing about being good.” Still caressing her hand as I spoke, I winked at her. She turned away and as she did, I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed the back of it. I made it a wet kiss. “Delicious, I really could eat you.”
Daisy turned to face me and said, “Oh damn.”
I could see she was breathing heavily and I looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I'm fine,” she answered, “I just wasn't expecting that.”
“No man has ever kissed your hand before?” I asked.
“Not like that,” she answered.
I turned her hand so the palm was up and slowly ran my fingers across her small palm and down her tiny fingers. “Your hands are so soft. I can just imagine how they would feel against my skin.” Without waiting for a response, I brought her hand to my face and ran the back of it against my cheek, as I looked deep into her eyes.
Daisy said nothing as she tried to keep up with the cascade of words and sensations I was sending her way. Still maintaining eye contact, I moved her hand to my mouth and raked the tip of my tongue gently and slowly across her fingertips. Daisy's mouth opened but no words came out. As I started to suck on her fingertips, one at a time, and very slowly, Daisy's eyelids dropped until her eyes closed completely. From the smile on her face, I knew she was enjoying the stimulation. When I ran her fingertips across the edge of my teeth, she gasped. Her eyes were still closed as I nibbled on her fingertips. “You sure you okay hon?” I asked coyly.
Daisy let out a heavy sigh. “I've never felt anything like this before.”
While caressing the back of her hand, I started kissing her knuckles. “It’s hard to believe no one has ever taken the time to kiss these hands before.” I said.
“Not like this,” she repeated.
“How sad,” I said. “If these hands were in my care, I would make sure they were never neglected.” I straightened out her index and middle fingers and curled her other fingers into her palm so that she was making an upside down peace sign. “But trust me, I would treat the rest of your body right too.” As I looked at her tiny feet, shapely calves, and sexy thighs, I licked her fingertips again and said, “I would suck your toes.” I dotted the tip of my tongue up both fingers. “I would kiss your legs.” I kissed the last phalanges of both fingers, just below the palms. “I would take extra time on your thighs, then who knows what I would do.” As I spoke the words, I flicked my tongue across the skin between her fingers. Daisy jumped noticeably but I just turned up the intensity, locking my lips on that small triangle of skin between her fingers and sucking gently.
Daisy started to pull her hand away but I held fast. “Xavier… oh god, please stop… Xavier, you have to go.”
I took her hand away from my mouth but continued to hold it. “What's wrong?”
Daisy was still breathing quickly and she sounded nervous. “Nothing's wrong, I just don't want us to get caught.”
I tried not to laugh but I couldn't suppress a huge grin, “Caught doing what, kissing your hand?”
Daisy was clearly flustered. “Well no, I mean yes, I mean I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, but I know you have to go.”
“Daisy, what's wrong?” I asked, trying not to smile.
Daisy stood up and pulled me from the couch. “Please Xavier, just go.” She ushered me to the door and as I was leaving, she kissed me on the cheek. “Xavier, I’m so sorry to make you go like this, but I’m really glad you came. Please call me as soon as you get home so I know you're safe.”
I waited until I got to my car to laugh. After driving a few blocks, I pulled over and took a swig of vodka (one for the road) before finding my way back to the highway.


.../...



Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Seven: Butterflies

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.../...

The next day, Saturday, I went to the motor pool and got my motorcycle. That was my favorite form of transportation. Since I was the only assigned rider, my blue and black Suzuki was exactly where I had left it more than a month earlier. If I ever needed a jeep, all I had to do was ask for one, which is what I usually requested for the weekends. Because of my neck, I hadn’t ridden in a month. I barely even drove. But being chauffeured around was getting lame and that day, I definitely wanted to feel the rush of air.
I rode for several hours far up into the mountains that overlooked the bay of Port-au-Prince and away from any roads. I rode until even the trails became nothing more than goat paths. I rode until there were no homes and no sign of human presence. The further up I went, the cooler it got. Lord, it felt good to breathe crisp, clean, mountain air!
When I was far enough up the mountain that an encounter with another human was almost impossible, I got off the bike and sat on a boulder. I lit a cigarette and looked off into the distance. Through the haze I could see the island of La Gonave; just a formless blotch of grayish brown, competing with the setting sun for my attention. It was no contest. La Gonave didn’t stand a chance. But as the sun started to set, it made a token gesture to the island by highlighting its edges with a temporary crown of fiery red. It was time to ride home.
I prepared myself for the adrenaline rush that was to come. I was far from any road and soon it would be dark. I had to ride hard and fast through fields, hills, valleys, and ravines while there was still light. I decided on the most dangerous route. Rather than go back the way I had come, I would take the long way, forward over this mountain and down the other side to the very bottom and take the dry riverbed back to town. It was a crazy thing to do, all the more so because I had no protective gear other than my helmet. It didn't even occur to me that I had so recently broken my neck and I was supposed to be taking it easy.
The race was on as I gunned the throttle and tore up the grassy mountainside looking for any shortcut to the top. Every second was precious. I had to fly, and fly is what I did. At almost no time were both wheels on the ground together and quite often I would be soaring through the air, using any available surface as a ramp. The feeling was wonderful; I was getting high off the adrenaline flowing freely though my body as I maneuvered my bike across the landscape. When I flew over the top and started my descent down the other side, my momentum, gravity, and the terrain all conspired to force me into a straight line down the steep mountainside, but that would have meant certain death. I fought the mountain, pulling first to the right, then to the left, zigzagging my way down the slope. As I rode, only one mistake away from serious injury or worse, I couldn’t help thinking: If I were to fall and die what a glorious end it would be! We all had to die sooner or later, but to die on my terms, that would be something indeed. I clenched my teeth and pushed the death wish out of my mind. Some day, perhaps some day soon, but not that day! I had no intentions of surrendering my life to this mountain. I rode for all I was worth, racing not only against the mountain, but also against the setting sun.


Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Six: Fresh Meat

.../...

Nicole hesitated. “I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna throw up.”
Looking at her face, I could tell she was serious. I got up from the table, went around to her side, took her hand and led her to the bathroom. The bathroom was being used, but luckily there was no line. Standing in the hallway outside the bathroom, I leaned against the wall and she leaned back into me with my arms wrapped around her as I whispered in her ear. “Hang in there honey, just a little bit longer.”
When the door opened, a young woman came out and we went in. I locked the door behind us. Nicole immediately went to her knees and started vomiting into the toilet. Crouching behind her, I spoke comforting words as she emptied her stomach. I put an arm around her lower abdomen to apply gentle pressure and started to rub her back with my free hand. Even then, as my hand rubbed her back, I couldn’t help noticing how beautiful her body was. Holding her slender form so closely and looking at her dark chocolate skin, I was tempted to kiss the back of her neck but instead I leaned forward and hugged her. “That’s it baby, that’s it, get it all out.”
When she was done, I helped her to her feet and led her to the sink. She rinsed out her mouth and washed her face, then took the paper towel I was holding for her. I was standing behind her as she looked at my reflection in the mirror above the sink. “Thank you.” Her voice was so soft, it was as though she had mouthed the words.
“Are you okay?” I asked with genuine concern.
As she turned to face me, she nodded her head. “Yes, I’m a little embarrassed but I’ll live. We went to the beach. I've been drinking all day. I guess I had a little too much.”
I held her by the shoulders, looked into her eyes and started in a clear voice, “Well, I’ll take care of you. Maybe I can get them to make you some soup or something to settle your stomach.” The last few words were barely audible as I leaned forward and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss placed delicately on her lips.
She started to kiss back then pulled away and turned her face to the side. “I’m so embarrassed. You must think I’m so disgusting.”
I laughed a bit, “Trust me, I’ve kissed much worse.” Then I got serious as I took her chin again and looked into her eyes, “Actually I enjoyed it very much.”
She leaned forward, put her head on my chest and hugged me. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d be doing now if you hadn’t come along.”
Of course, I knew if I hadn’t come along she'd be having a great time with Joey, but that was my secret. “Okay,” I said, “let’s get you something to eat.”
We walked out holding hands as I led her back to our table. Unfortunately, the only way there was, was through the bar, so everyone saw us go to and from the bathroom, but I didn’t care. I was genuinely attracted to this girl and I wasn’t gonna let anyone stop me from getting to know her better. When the waiter came, I explained the situation and he said he knew just the thing for her and walked away.
Nicole looked at me with a puzzled expression. “What is he bringing me?”
I smiled, “Don’t worry, whatever it is, it’ll be exactly what you need.”We passed the time with me asking her general questions about what she did and who she knew. It turned out she was seventeen years old and had only been to the Flamenco a few times to see Freddy play on Thursday nights. She didn’t get out much and had no boyfriend. When she ran into Joey at a grocery store near her house, they got into a conversation when he asked her to translate the labels on the items he was trying to buy. He had seemed so nice that when he offered to drive her home, she accepted and when he asked if she wanted to go to the beach with him the next day, she had been flattered. Of course, I knew the rest of the story.

.../...


Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

From Chapter Five: Alice's World

.../...

The day of the hearing, I left the house at my usual time, but I didn’t go to work. I called the office and told them I had an emergency; then I drove to Natasha’s. I wanted to see her family before they went to court. I stayed outside with the brothers to reassure them everything would be fine and reminded them to ignore anything Alice said. I didn’t get to see Natasha but that was just as well.
From there I went for a ride to clear my head. I considered breakfast but I couldn’t eat. Finally, I went to the Flamenco. It was closed, but Max let me in and Roland offered me a drink. After two drinks, it was time to go. I got to the courthouse thirty minutes early. I wanted to make sure I was the first one there. After waiting a bit, Natasha and her family appeared. I approached them discreetly and explained that it wouldn't be wise for the judge or any of the court officers to see me talking to them. Besides, if asked, I intended to tell the judge I barely knew Natasha and I had never met any of the other members of her family.
They were all nervous, even Jonah, and Natasha was shaking visibly. I was scared too but I knew they were counting on me so I put on an expression of absolute confidence and smiled at them. “Don’t worry, let me do all the talking and everything will be fine. I promise.” Then I nodded, turned and went inside the courtroom.
The single courtroom had a dozen or so benches. I sat in the far back corner so I could see everyone as they entered. A few minutes later, I heard loud voices out in the hallway. One of them belonged to Alice. The door opened and she entered. Even as she made her way to the far end of the first bench, she was hurtling insults out the open door. Natasha’s family entered angrily. Damn, the proceedings hadn’t even started yet and she had succeeded in getting them upset enough to argue with her. It was bad, very bad. I stood up and caught Jonah’s eyes. I frowned at him and shook my head slowly from side to side. He let out a sigh and shushed his family before corralling them at the opposite end of the front bench.
Alice turned and saw me sitting in the back. Without even trying to hide her anger, she got up and walked up to me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
My heart was beating somewhere up near my throat, but I kept a cool appearance and smiled. “As your husband, I’m required to be here.”
“Why,” she snapped back, loud enough so the whole room could hear, “so you can defend your little whore?”
“No,” I replied calmly, “because it’s the law.”
Right about then a police officer entered the room. “Order in the court! All rise for the honorable Judge Mondesir.”
Everyone stood and I followed Alice back to the first row of benches and stood next to her. Once the courtroom was still, a pretty, forty-something woman in a long black robe entered the room, walked up to the dais, sat in the over-stuffed chair and pounded her gavel one time. “You may all be seated.” The judge took a few minutes to review the file.
A female judge! I couldn’t believe my luck. Even if Alice didn’t have an outburst, it was very unlikely this would go very far. Alice was here alone, representing herself, while Natasha was here with her family, and basically, looked like an innocent school-girl.
The judge signaled to the court officer and whispered in his ear. He then stepped forward and read from the file. “Judge Mondesir will now hear the case of Pierre versus Joseph. Alice Pierre please approach the bench.”
Alice walked up to the dais and started talking, “Judge, I demand justice! That woman and her family,” Alice pointed to Natasha, “attacked me without provocation…”
The Judge pounded the dais with her gavel. “Hold on Mrs. Pierre, you’ll get your chance, but this is a hearing, not a trial. I'm here to determine whether or not a crime has been committed, and whether a trial is necessary. Please keep your statement brief and stick to the facts. Now start by stating your full name and address for the record.”
Alice took a deep breath to calm herself then spoke her name. The proceedings went pretty much as I had predicted. After Alice finished with her fantastic story of being kidnapped, tortured and beaten, Natasha was asked to approach the bench and not only refuted everything Alice had said, but added that she had never met Alice until the day of the incident. Furthermore, she said that even then she only saw Alice through a window, because her mother kept her in the house as Alice tried to fight two of her brothers in the front yard.
Several times, Alice tried to provoke Natasha and her family but they simply ignored her. This infuriated Alice and the outbursts occurred with increasing frequency. Judge Mondesir was not amused and several times threatened to hold Alice in contempt. Eventually, I was asked to approach the bench. I told the judge Alice was emotionally disturbed, that I had no idea why she had chosen these innocent people as her latest target and I wanted to extend my sincerest apologies to the honorable judge for wasting so much of the court’s precious time with my poor wife’s delusional behavior. Alice went berserk. She lunged towards me and tried to tackle me to the ground, all the while screaming obscenities at the top of her lungs. When the court officer tried to subdue her, she scratched his arm and tried to bite him. Judge Mondesir ordered the case dismissed and a second officer was called in to restrain Alice.

.../...


Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Four: The Performance

Another two weeks passed. The neck brace came off and I was back at The Agency. It was good to be working again. My staff had missed me so much they decorated my office. There were cards and balloons, and even a cake. I didn't like all the fuss but it felt good to be missed. Within a week, everything was back to normal.
Then I got the phone call. It was Natasha announcing that she had something important to talk to me about that she couldn't tell me on the phone. I had a pretty good idea what it might be. Shit! How could I let this happen to me? “Okay, come over this Saturday,” I said and hung up the phone.
When she came, I was sitting in the family room wearing shorts and a polo shirt. She was wearing a blouse and jeans. I had her sit next to me and offered her a beer. She took it and started sipping. I poured a shot of rum into a tumbler and gulped it down. Then I grabbed my beer and said gravely, “So what's on your mind?”
She was very nervous. “Xavier, I don't know how to tell you this. I'm so afraid.”
“Natasha, how long have you known me?” I asked
“About two years,” she replied.
“Right,” I said, “and you know how I feel about our relationship and I'm sorry it's not what you want, but in all that time, have I ever given you bad advice?”
“No,” she said.
I took her hands in mine. “And didn't I always say that as long as we were friends I would always be there for you?”
“Yes,” she said.
I continued, “And who made it impossible to be friends because she wants more?”
A tear slid down one cheek, and was quickly followed by one on the other cheek. “I am,” she admitted.
I gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “Natasha, I know it doesn't always look like it but I really care about you. I've always wanted the best for you and that's why we can't be together. But whatever it is, you can tell me.”
I could see that my words were having an affect, but she wasn't ready to talk. This would take tact and patience, two things that I possessed in great abundance. I poured myself another shot, slugged it down, chased it with a mouthful of beer then got up still holding her hand, “Come on.” I stamped out the cigarette I had left unattended in the ashtray and led her downstairs to my room.
As I stood behind her, I started to massage her neck and shoulders. My fingers searched out the little knots of tension and went to work on them. “Just relax, whatever it is, I promise it’ll be all right.” As I massaged, I started kissing her neck. I waited till I felt her shoulders relax, then I reached around to massage her breasts. She sighed and cocked her head back as I started on her nipples. Before she told me what she had to say, I had to find out for myself and there was only one way to do that. I started unbuttoning her blouse.



.../...




Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Ten: Home Again

I’m going to start posting short excerpts from the book. Also bear in mind that I will send the first two chapters to anyone who requests them, at no cost. (See contact info to the right.) I’m confident that anyone who reads the first two chapters will want to read the rest of the book. Just bear in mind that the book is a true story and contains adult language, graphics sex, alcohol and drug use. If you are offended by any of these, the book is probably not for you. But if you know anyone dealing with addiction, this book may be just what they need.

Sincere thanks,
Xavier


************

The next day I called Liz. She wanted to know why I didn't call as soon as I had gotten home, why I hadn't called even once while I was away, and when was she going to see me. I ignored the first two questions and assured her that she would see me later in the day. A few hours and quite a few drinks later I went to see her. When I arrived, Liz was smiling but she looked sad. For a moment we both hesitated then I put my arms around her and kissed her. Liz kissed me with passion and I did my best to match her intensity. When we broke apart, she spoke first. “I missed you Xavier.”
“I missed you too,” I lied.
“But you never called,” she said.
“Baby I'm sorry,” I said, at a loss for words. In an attempt to get some control of the situation I pulled her close so I could caress her back.
Liz pulled away. “No Xavier. Talk to me. What's going on?”
“Sweetheart I don't know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“How could you not know?” she asked. “You haven't seen me in three weeks and you have to get drunk before you can come spend some time with me. What am I supposed to think?” Liz waited for an answer but when it was clear that none was forthcoming, she continued. “Does that seem normal to you Xavier?”
Desperate to gain the upper hand I played the sympathy card. “Honey I know you’re right but I've had a lot on my mind. The doctors all looked at my neck and it looks really bad. Permanent damage.”
Liz' tone changed immediately. “Oh my God. Baby are you going to be OK?”
Relieved that the emotional balance had shifted in my favor, I continued the ruse. “Well, there's not much more they can do now, but I may have to fly back up there in a few months.”
Liz wrapped her arms around me. “Baby I'm sorry I gave you a hard time. But I'm your girl. You don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you.”
I started to gently caress her back. “I know you are. I should have called you while I was away, but I didn't want to worry you. Forgive me baby. I was wrong.”
Liz squeezed even more tightly. “It's OK, I understand.”I could feel the tension finally leave her shoulders as I continued to caress her back. I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “I missed you.”
.../...



Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Interviewed by Rose Beavers

Want to know more about Lovers Anonymous? Check out my interview with Rose Beavers of Priority Books Publications.


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

It's official!

I will be in Brooklyn, NY on Saturday, September 15, joining other talented poets on stage and signing my book. Join me at Stain Bar, 766 Grand St. The event is being organized by Cathy Delaleu, an exceptionally talented poet, author, and a close personal friend.

Lovers Anonymous is available for sale!

Click here to purchase the book.
The book cover doesn't show yet, I'm told that's normal and resolves itself after a few days, or after someone order. We'll see.

For an autographed copy, contact me by email or phone and I'll be happy to send it to you.

I'm still offering the first two chapters free to anyone who wants it.

Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Launch date is set!

Lovers Anonymous will be available for purchase on Amazon.com on or before August 20th.

The weekend of August 24th, I will be at the 2nd annual African Art and Culture Festival in Reading, Pennsylvania for my first official book signing.

To schedule a book signing in your city, please contact me:
xavierpjr@gmail.com
1-866-230-5692

There are no words to express how I feel. It’s a mixture of elation and trepidation, tempered with a bit of melancholy. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. Is this what post-partum depression feels like? I will never know, but soon the fruit of my intellectual womb will be held up high for all to scrutinize. Some will see the resemblance to me and tell me my baby is beautiful, others will say my child is a bastard who would have been better off not seeing the light of day. But none of that matters any more. My baby has already made a difference in the lives of several people, and for that I can be proud.

Peace and Love,
Ali’s Zay


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

A Slight Delay

Book Update: I’m delaying the launch by a few weeks. Trust me when I say it’s for the best. The book is done, but I feel the need to add an epilogue so that readers aren’t left hanging too much until the sequel. Those who have read the book know what I mean. ;-) Let me just get school out of the way so I can focus on this and do it right.
Special thanks to my publisher, Rose Beavers (Priority Books)

The first two chapters are still available (at no cost) to anyone who requests it via email.

-Xavier

Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

The book is done!

Well folks I arrived at a major milestone yesterday. Lovers Anonymous is finally done. I finally went through line by line and incorporated the changes from the editor. The cover art was already done. I did find a small mistake on the cover. Do you see it?

As for the release date, I was hoping for July 4th, but that doesn’t look reasonable. But it will definitely be in the first half of July. Until then, I’m offering the first 2 chapters as a FREE pdf. I wanted to make it a download, but because of the adult content, I have to be careful not to do anything that might get me and the publisher in trouble. If you would like to read the first two chapters of Lovers Anonymous, just send me an email (xavierpjr@gmail.com) with “book please” in the subject and I’ll reply with the PDF file.




See you soon at a book signing near you!

Peace and Love,

Xavier


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Snap Tag

I was tagged by Lyrically Yours. I must look at the snap and add to the poem. The text in Italics is mine. Actually the photo moved me quite a bit. I hope my friend finds the shelter and safety she so desperately needs. I would reach across the ocean to wrap her in my arms, but it is not to be. Perhaps some day, some day soon. Until then, be safe and know that your brother loves you.

The world waited outside for us
Waited
With moist grass beneath our feet
Cloaked with years of silent preparation
Silence procrastinates with the wind
The mystery of hope pours across the skin
Stretched tightly over our twisting limbs
Like the thatch that shelters us

I now tag Urban Butterfly.

Peace and Love,

Ali's Zay


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter Two: The Caregivers

The shower curtain rod was an iron bar firmly cemented at both ends into the concrete and stone walls. It would easily support my weight and I held it with both hands to steady myself. When I felt the cool water being poured over me I flinched at the unexpected sensation. One pitcher, then another, and another. With each pitcher my body became more attuned to the coolness, and then I felt the warm hands delicately soaping my back. In one hand a bar of soap, the other empty; each hand alternately went over my neck, my arms, and my back; worked down to my butt and down my legs. Straining against the natural desire building inside me, I tried to calm myself by thinking of wind blowing across a field of wheat. Not very effective so I went over my to-do list, but my list consisted of one item: three weeks flat on my back and no pressure on my neck. I had to come up with something better, and fast. My step-father; I imagined him passed out drunk on his bed, which in fact is how he was at that very moment. That worked and I was in control of my body again.
Up to now Mickey hadn't said a word. “Turn around so I can do the front,” she said softly.
Slowly I turned and faced her but I didn’t make eye contact. Countless women had seen me naked but this was different. After all, Mickey was my cousin by marriage; she was family. My dear cousin had agreed to come take care of me and nurse me back to health. My step-father had made the request and her mother had agreed. For several days now she had been feeding me, helping me in and out of bed, and generally waiting on me. All of it completely unnecessary since the maid was more than capable and my needs were actually quite minimal.
Her presence may have been unnecessary, but it was very welcome. From the first time we had met a few months before, the attraction had been immediate and mutual. Whenever she greeted me she always made sure our lips touched and more than once the maid had caught us staring and smiling at each other from across the house. But she was my cousin so I contented myself to fantasizing about her. Besides, she was only sixteen and I had more appropriate women to satisfy my sexual appetites. But how could I have predicted this? Hurting my neck, Mickey moving in to care for me, or her soft hands gliding across my chest.
My cousin was a pretty girl. Like most young Haïtian women living on the edge of poverty, she was lean and strong. She was only an inch or so shorter than me with long muscular legs. Her physical beauty was all natural; her hair was natural and braided in a way that actually made her look even younger than she was. The ribbons certainly didn’t help. She wore an old pair of terry cloth shorts and a tube top that showed off her small, firm breasts. More so now that she was wet from the water splashing off my body. Water and soap suds dripped from her elbows onto the floor and her bare feet.
She stood in front of me, working her soapy hands over my chest and down my belly, avoiding my eyes as much as I avoided hers. As she worked her way down, there was nothing I could do to stop my erection. I was a little embarrassed and I could see her trying to suppress a smile. She crouched down but avoided my loins and worked on my legs but the sight of my penis dancing above her head was too much. I gave up trying to be good and decided to see exactly how far this would go. She hurried to finish and stood back up to rinse me off. I looked into her eyes and said, “Not yet, you have to finish what you started.”

.../...



Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Lovers Anonymous - The Preface

I'm in the final editing phase of Lovers Anonymous. Very soon the copy will be locked and production will start for the July launch. Keep checking this blog for a download of the entire first chapter. I might even make two chapters available as a FREE download. Until then, here is the Preface to the book.

Please help me out by sending as many people as you can to this blog. The more people visit, the more incentive I’ll have to post my writing here, including more sample chapters, previews of my other upcoming books, and my short stories.


Preface


It’s a strange thing to know that you are going mad. You can come to that logical conclusion by reviewing your own behavior after the fact, and sometimes even as you act, but a part of you is always utterly convinced that the things you do are what any normal person would do if placed in the same situation. My therapist told me that to do the same thing over and over while expecting different results is the definition of insanity. That may be the definition, but to know that you are mad, and yet not know, all at the same time; that, to me, is the essence of madness.
In reviewing this book a reader might incorrectly conclude that the main character hates women. The truth is far more complex. I can't fully explain why I treated women the way I did during that period of my life, but at all times, even in my cruelest moments; I wanted to love women and I wanted them to love me. I was as addicted to women and sex as to alcohol and drugs and that was the problem. I don't pretend to be an expert and I speak only for myself but as an addict, the object of my addiction became exactly that: an object. Once this was the case, notions like respect, love, or fair treatment became irrelevant. But if an object was found to be defective, it was simply discarded and replaced. I had no conscious reason to hate women. Up to that point in my life, no woman had ever really hurt me, at least not so deeply that I could justify the type behavior described in this book. No woman had ever humiliated me, or betrayed my love. On the other hand, living in my own reality, I had every reason to be selfish. Everything I did was done to feed my ego, and everyone around me existed to satisfy my desires. It's clear to me now that I was trapped in an insane cycle of looking for love in a world of my own making where love itself couldn’t possibly exist.
The pain, humiliation and rejection that I had inflicted on my lovers is something I myself would experience many years into recovery, at a point in life where I could be philosophical about it, work out my resentment and move on without holding a grudge. In part, the writing of this book is a result of that process. Rather than blame, I chose to examine myself. I’ve been given the tools to recognize the pattern of insanity and I am empowered to choose. Every day I’m faced with choices. I'm still a work in progress but by the grace of God I choose sobriety and in most other matters, more often than not, I choose the way of reason.
The first step in writing this book was to actually live it. The events I write about were taken from the book of my life. There are many parts of the story that I sincerely wish had never happened but the simple truth is that no amount of wishing can make my past go away. I know, because I tried. The life I’ve lived is the history I’m stuck with. Having failed to make my past go away, I realized that I had no other choice but to make a “searching and fearless moral inventory” of myself and move forward from there. Fortunately, the story isn't over. I’m adding to it every day and I’m working hard to make it to a happy ending.
Since the last thing I want to do is cause more hurt to the many people who appear in this book, I've changed most of the names not only of people, but also of key places. Those who know me today, and even some who have known me for many years have asked, after reading initial drafts, “Xavier, did you really do those things?” Sadly, the answer is yes. Please note however that this isn’t a documentary of my life, nor is it written like one. I’ve endeavored not only to tell my story of redemption, but to tell that story in a compelling way. From the beginning, I felt it was important to write a good book. To that end, I’ve taken certain liberties as an author. In almost every case this was done to make the book more readable or convey important insight. Also note that this book is written in the first person and from the decidedly warped perspective of the person I used to be.
I’ve also been asked about the graphic sexual content. All I can say is that I wrote this book the only way I knew how. The sex is included not to titillate, scandalize or shock, but in order to give the reader full access into the mind of a man obsessed with booze and sex. In fact, there are more references to, and descriptions of, drinking than sex. For those who read this book and remember only the sex, it’s my humble opinion that you’ve missed the entire point in addition to some valuable life lessons.
In order to tell my story I had to reinvent myself as an author. This meant making certain decisions about what was important, what was less important, and what was most important. Ultimately the truth is most important, while the myriad details surrounding the events I write about are clearly less important. In the beginning I struggled mightily with myself every time I had to move a line of dialog from the person who actually said it to another person, or when I moved an event from where it actually took place, to a different location. But in the end, I had to accept that what is said is often more important than who said it and what happened is often more important than where it happened. As a consequence of this inner struggle I can say without hesitation that this work is an accurate recounting of my life story as seen through the eyes of a broken man in dire need of recovery. Having sought and found deliverance I attest that this book, though not perfect, is fundamentally a true story.
I want to recognize all the unsuspecting actors who contributed to this story, quite literally, with their blood, sweat and tears. Though unappreciated at the time, they played their parts as best they could on the stage of my insane reality and I owe each and every one of them an apology. But to some I owe a much greater debt which I can never fully repay. To all of you, wherever you are, I humbly ask forgiveness.

Finally I want to thank the numerous friends who gave valuable input during the writing of this book.

Peace and Love,
Xavier
May 10, 2007


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Book cover

Well here it is finally. The book cover photo for Lovers Anonymous. I’ll post the final layout when it’s done. Of course that’s Ali and I in the photo. It was taken Sunday at Norman Manley Airport in Kingston. In the photograph it’s obvious that my fingers are crossed behind my back. After applying the water color filter in Photoshop the crossed fingers are not so obvious any more but I really like the overall look. What do you think?

And here’s the portrait for the book cover. Is this a good photo or should I take another one? And is B/W OK or would color be better?


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

from Chapter One: Pain in the Neck

Here are the first 2 paragraphs of the book.
-----------------------------------
I opened my eyes and saw nothing. It was pitch black. I was in extreme pain and I had no idea where I was. My heart started racing as panic set in. “Breathe, just breathe, nice and slow, deep breaths,” I said to myself, metering out the words as I fought against the terror. OK, I had to start with the basics and work out a solution. “My name, what's my name?” I waited for an answer but none came. “What's my f#cking name!?” I screamed the words inside my skull and waited. A painfully long moment later the answer came: “Xavier! My name is Xavier.” Damn! I'd been through this before but it never took me this long to remember my name.
I was lying on my back in a narrow space about two feet wide. Using my hands, I could feel broken glass on the bare wood surface I was lying on. Every movement caused extreme hurt everywhere, but the worst pain was in my neck and I had great difficulty moving my head. I had no idea where I was but whenever this happened, I usually woke up in someone else's bed. Several times, I had even woken up in my own room and not recognized where I was. It was always scary but this was infinitely more terrifying. For all I knew, I might be at the bottom of a mine shaft… or worse. Wherever I was, this was very bad. The panic started again as I considered the possibility that I had been buried alive. “Easy now, slow down, deep breaths.” I had to remain calm. Half expecting to feel the inside of a casket lid I reached up into empty space. That simple movement hurt like hell, but I was relieved to find that I wasn’t in a coffin.

Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.

Welcome

OK, I’ve come to the conclusion that my old blog is way too personal to be my book blog. The big clue was when I contemplated censoring myself. Self-control is one thing, but self-censorship is totally not cool with me. So my old blog goes back to private tomorrow and I will continue to express myself freely and without inhibitions. And this new blog will be the place to get updates on Lovers Anonymous.
Soooooo, if you want access to my private blog, just send an email to xavierpjr@gmail.com and I will be happy to add you to my access list.

Peace and Love,

Ali’s Zay


Copyright © 2007 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.