When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?
I realized I wanted to be a writer when I was eight years old and entered a writing contest sponsored by Ebony/JET magazine. I didn't win; but, a letter they sent me addressing me as 'dear writer', lit a fire in me that never went out.
How long does it take you to write a book? 
If I can really buckle down and have little distractions, I can write a book in nine days. But, if I have a lot going on, it takes me a month to forty-five days to write a book.
What is your work schedule like when you're writing?
I have to work early in the morning when the house is quiet, which is from midnight to two in the morning. If I am on a writing streak, I will write from midnight until six in the morning, when it's time to get the kids up for school.
What is your latest release and what's next? 
My latest release is 'Big Girls On Fleek', and part two of that is currently in the works. I am working on a new series now as well and trying to get my first book turned into a play and then a movie.

Here is the amazon link to the book:



Nikki Moore was not happy. That bitch at the drive-thru window forgot that she said no pickles on her hamburger. The sandwich was loaded with them. She whipped her candy apple red Dodge Charger into the first available parking space and hopped out, bag and burger in tow. She was fuming as she marched up to the entrance, booty shaking with each step she took. Nikki was curvy in all the right places and she knew it. When she walked, it was as if the world paused until she was out of sight.
She snatched open the door, her hazel eyes searching the place for the bitch who had taken her order and fucked it up. She saw her. She threw her hips from side to side as she switched up to counter. and tossed the burger onto it. She didn’t care that she had cut several people in line. In her mind, she had already waited once, and she was not going to wait again.
“May I help you?” The cashier asked, acknowledging Nikki’s rudeness.
“It’s pickles on my fuckin’ burger and I said no pickles. I hate them.”
“I’m sorry ma’am, we’ll take care of that,” the young lady assured her, picking the burger up off of the counter.
“You better. This the third time this week y’all bitches put pickles on my fuckin’ burger. Damn, y’all  need to get ya’ shit together.”
The cashier rolled her eyes as she took the burger to the back.
Nikki glanced at the long line of people waiting to place their orders, all who seemed to be giving her the ‘you’re an embarrassment to all black people’ look.
“The fuck y’all lookin’ at?!” she snapped, folding her arms and rolling her eyes. She wished somebody would say something to her.

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