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                                                   The Wicked Crush

Dr. Aalizabeth Hicks doesn’t believe in love or long term relationships. She has tried both and failed miserably at each. 

The beautiful African American physician isn't interested in finding or keeping a husband. She simply wants to go clubbing, drink lots of tequila and date inappropriate men who do not speak a bit of English. 

Aalizabeth never learned a second language, but she sees that as a benefit. The only thing she desires from a man is a good time without lots of conversation. 

This suits her just fine until she develops a wicked crush on a tall Latin stranger.




Author's Chapter Notes:

Happy Holidays & A Wonderful  New Year 2018,

 

The Wicked Crush is currently on sale for the holidays at all ebook retail stores.  My entire book catalogue is discounted for the festive season.  Enjoy this amazing time of the year & thank you!

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Griffin




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


 

The Wicked Crush

 

 

ELIZABETH GRIFFIN

 

 

Red Velvet Delight Romance

 

THANK YOU GOD FOR MAKING THIS POSSIBLE

 

Copyright  Elizabeth Griffin

All rights reserved

Published November 27, 2017

Gore Publications

P. O. Box 43561

Philadelphia, PA  19106-3561

 

www.elizabethgriffin.net

 

Cover Design

Derrick H. Gore

 

 

All rights reserved.  No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission from author.   Printed In The United States of America

 

 

 

Dedication

 

To Alberto

  the man who introduced me to Salsa music and dance

 

0

 

 

Prologue

 

 

         “Hola, mi amigo.  ¿Qué tal?” greeted Nazario Soto in a thick Puerto Rican accent as he slid into the vacant seat across from his childhood friend.

         “Asi, Asi,” said Ismael in an unenthusiastic voice.  The fashionably dressed Latino glanced causally around the dim nightclub.

His eyes landed on a crowded dance floor.  The salsa music was doing its job.  Beautiful women were spinning around in high heels while their handsome partners took the lead and choreographed one sensual, sexy dance after another. 

         Ismael continued speaking in his native Spanish, “I sprained my ankle playing soccer. Tonight, I’m a wounded bystander,” he smiled holding up a vodka glass.  “Cheers, to sitting this one out.”

         “Did you at least win the match?”

         “Damn straight.  We took the game.  It was swift, and merciless.”

         Nazario lifted his glass and tilted it in Ismael's direction.  “To a quick recovery, and another World Cup.  Have you had that ankle looked at?”

         “Of course.  The team coach advises me to keep it wrapped.  Absolutely no dancing.  So, here I am.  Cannot jeopardize the career.”

“Intelligent man,” praised Nazario.  “You do know how to listen to authority.  You have come a long way, my friend.”

         “We both have,” agreed Ismael before lifting the vodka bottle and pouring out two more drinks, “To survival.  To good parents.”

         “And a long future,” he grinned.

         Nazario Soto was a product of his environment.  His rock-hard chest, chiseled abs and narrow waist were the result of endless college soccer matches.

         The gorgeously handsome Latino was born and raised in The Badlands— the notoriously renowned part of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania which as its name suggested was synonymous with dangerous living.

         Drug addiction, urban crime and absolute poverty were a few of the local vices the residents had to deal with.

         Getting off the streets after dark was imperative to many of the people trying to avoid the hazards of city gunfire; however, it was quickly learned by many that bullets had no curfews.  The hot metal claimed lives at all hours of the day and night.

         The scrawling urban neighbor with its crumbling brick houses and abandoned industrial factories towered over many city streets that were littered with trash and drowning in potholes.

         It wasn't the ideal place for a Catholic mother to bring-up five curious and sometimes disobedient boys, but that part of North Philly had served its purpose.

         It provided The Sotos with a home after the family migrated from the barrios of the South Bronx.

         The Badlands wasn't a place that could be easily located on a geographical map.  It was not a vacation spot that the American Atlas highlighted between its glossy scenic pages.  Most tourists didn't even know it existed—

         “Quién es ella? Who is that?” quizzed Nazario in a distracted voice as he watched a beautiful black woman take the dance floor.

         She wore a blue leather pants suit.  The tight button down blazer revealed copious amounts of cleavage. 

         Feathered layers of long black hair framed an oval face with expressive eyes and a wide smile.  

         Nazario's question wasn't a rhetorical one.  It demanded a response as he wondered out loud.  He directed the inquiry at his best friend, Ismael.  

         “Forget about her.  She has a certain type.  And, you are not it—” said Ismael in a judgmental tone.  “That one is dangerous.  She scopes outs a victim, lures him to her—   She screws with   his head and then dumps him.”

         “She's a regular?  Do you know her?”

         “Not directly, but I have seen her in action.  She only messes with Spanish brothers that are new to this country.  Ones that cannot speak a second language.  She's apparently not interested in men who can communicate in English.”

         “What are you saying?” he asked returning his gaze to his drinking partner.  “She cannot be that bad.”   

         “Don't let that pretty face deceive you.  She is very calculating, and quite particular.  She does not party with any man that is bilingual.  She will not accept a free drink from someone like you or me.  I do not get it, but she is strictly interested in immigrants—”

         Nazario chuckles in disbelief, “What are you implying?  She cannot discriminate against a man simply because he speaks English.  That's impossible.  You are joking, right?”

         The handsome professional athlete shook his head in a negative manner and said, “Just watch her.  The eyes do not lie.  That woman has an agenda.  I have no idea what it is, but I suggest that you stay away from her.  She's harboring some serious issues.”

         Nazario eagerly took his friend's advice and studied the unusual behavior of the sexy African American beauty.  He watched her rebuff the attention of any man that spoke to her in English.

         He was baffled by the game she was playing, but he paid close attention to all of her rules. 

         By the end of the night Nazario had to agree with his friend, the woman definitely had a preference...

 












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.