This novel will be coming out new this month and I'm excited to share Jealous Ex Husband with all you interracial romance fans out there. The trailer just dropped on YouTube and y'all have been sharing the love in the comment section to enter and win an advanced review copy. If you love books similar to 50 Shades of Grey with an interracial BWWM twist, you'll love this full-length novel which maps out the crazy story of Quetta & Vlad.
As I said in the trailer, divorce isn't easy and this story is about finding love after divorce. If you like romance novel excerpts, love romantic stories and enjoy reading free romance novels online, keep reading to enjoy the first preview of Jealous Ex-Husband…
Divorce ain't easy…
It's even harder when your ex-husband is famous…
Jealousy, back-stabbing and Hollywood materialism threaten Quetta's joy after divorce.
The one man who makes all her troubles disappear is the one man Quetta must stay away from…
Or she'll risk losing everything.
Vlad Romanov had tired of Tati. She was not only another boring, fake model filled with silicon at every point of injection, but she was another reminder of his tendency to make horrible decisions with women. On his quest for “the one”, Vlad found himself surrounded by the perpetual stream of plastic women in Los Angeles whose only obsessions included Botox and Birkins — nothing else. Sure, she was sexy enough but was that really enough?
The biggest issue with Tati, besides her empty blue eyes and her desperation for material objects was the fact that the second they’d slept together she had become clingier than a piece of gum beneath a table. She didn’t get the idea that Vlad had no time for her. No. Fucking. Time. Vlad was one of the highest paid divorce lawyers on the West Coast and although he loved passing time with these wannabe models, strippers and shallow rich chicks, he reviled interruptions, especially while he worked.
“What the hell is it Tati?”
“I love you Vlad…” She purred in her heavy Russian accent. (Vlad wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t faking it. She claimed to be from Moscow but he knew without a doubt, her parents had immigrated in the late 80s.)
Vlad rolled his eyes. They’d slept together once. And Tati wasn’t naive. She might have been twenty years old but she had been around the block. She’d starred in around fifty blue movies before “retiring” and attempting to become a professional girlfriend. Sugar babies were as common as bus drivers in the city.
“Listen… Tati… I can’t handle this right now. I’m working on a case…”
Tati hit back, “You’re always working Vlad. Always working. Why don’t I stop by your office and I wrap my lips around your cock. We’ll see how busy you are.”
Vlad cringed. There was no way in hell he was going to let Tati know where he worked.
“Listen… Tati, I’ve got to go. Why don’t you go find some other way to occupy your time. I promise I’ll see you later.”
“You are a terrible boyfriend Vlad. Perhaps I should call another man to occupy me this afternoon.”
Vlad ignored her obvious attempt to make him jealous. “Perhaps you should. And I’m not your boyfriend.”
“What are you afraid of Vlad? You hate commitment.”
Vlad scoffed. He’d known Tati a grand total of eight days. Afraid of commitment or afraid of crazy Russian chicks?
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Fine! You’re a fucking scumbag Vlad! I spread my legs for you and what do you do… you shit all over me.”
Tati hung up. Vlad smirked. She was so dramatic. He knew she’d be crawling back for more later anyway. He really didn’t have time for her. Vlad’s latest celebrity lawsuit and his work had always taken priority over bimbos. The deeper and deeper Vlad got into his work, the less he had time for women.
Of course, all the women his age wanted nothing more than to tie him down and start milking him for money and babies. Vlad was still looking for fun. Crazy as she might have been, Tati was fun.
Vlad’s receptionist paged his office.
“Mr. Romanov? I have your two o’clock.”
“Send her up.”
Vlad downed the glass of vodka he’d kept sitting on his desk. His latest clientele wouldn’t appreciate how much he drank on the job. He adjusted his lapels and sat up straight, pulling out a gold pen and a sheet of thick card paper to take notes on. He’d been up all night, working on his latest case and the dark bags under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion.
Vlad’s piercing eyes were brilliant greenish color that glowed like emeralds. The green picked up the deep chestnut brown color of his hair, giving his eyes an occasional champagne color. Vlad sat up in his office chair and straightened his orange and black Princeton tie. Breathe.
His receptionist had hinted that this client wanted to remain anonymous before they met. She had “security concerns”, which wasn’t uncommon for his clients. Vlad wondered who it would be… Some celebrity bodyguard hoping Vlad would get them a big cash payout from alleged mistreatment? A woman with a botched boob job?
A knock on his door interrupted Vlad from his fantasizing.
He coughed and sat up straight, prepared for anything.
When the door opened, Vlad’s jaw might have dropped if he hadn’t had so much practice maintaining his composure under all manner of surprising encounters.
“Good afternoon, miss,” He greeted her. Of course, most people on the West Coast knew who she was but people who were famous preferred the pretense that they could maintain anonymity. Instantly, Vlad noticed how much more beautiful she was in person…
Quetta Blackburn noticed the same things about him. Quetta wondered if she’d come to the right place at all. The man sitting across the desk from her looked more like a professional athlete and bodybuilder than a high-powered lawyer who had been personally responsible for bankrupting a number of high profile men. His office stank of vodka and cigars, but other than the smell, was perfectly clean and tidy, almost acetic in its appearance.
“Good afternoon Mr. Romanov.”
“Good afternoon, madam.”
Quetta stuck out her hand to shake his. Vlad maintained eye contact with her, his gaze piercing into hers as he assessed every detail about her, gripping her hand in a firm, powerful handshake. Her diamond tennis bracelet jingled as she shook his hand and her manicured fingers dug into his thick meaty palm. She released his grasp quickly and smoothed her tight dress, sitting with her legs crossed before invited.
“So… What are we speaking about today Miss…”
“You know who I am…” She said, “But don’t call me Mrs. Blackburn. Call me Quetta.”
“My husband and I are getting a divorce. I forced him to file the papers and I need a lawyer who can help me get what I’m worth,” Quetta said flatly.
Quetta’s cool impressed Vlad. Most divorcées were withering messes, unsure of what they wanted and more interested in salvaging what politeness they could from their spouses. He could tell Quetta wasn’t that kind of woman. Her dark, copper colored skin glowed with the effortless beauty of a woman who lived without stress. Vlad picked up on her intense gaze.
He was the best, everyone agreed he was the best. But Quetta was still skeptical when she saw him. Vlad still looked more like a pretty boy than a renowned lawyer.
“What do you have in mind?” Vlad asked.
She didn’t pause for a moment before speaking her mind.
“I want at least half… More than half if I can get away with it. It’s just… I’ve been through a lot with him and I’m afraid of what my husband will try to do.”
Vlad looked Quetta up and down. She didn’t look like your usual basketball wife gold digger, but she had some of the trimmings of one. Every part of her was perfectly manicured from her straight black weave, her body hugging dress and her manicured fingernails. Every inch of her that could dripped in jewelry. Her Prada bag on the table was the final touch in a made-for-TV outfit.
Vlad was certain she didn’t leave the house without consulting a stylist. Still, despite her manicured state, she was dressed properly. There wasn’t a hint of cleavage and her skirt fell far below her knees. Quetta Blackburn seemed just as wholesome as her TV image.
“May I ask the reason for the divorce, Mrs. Blackburn? Before taking on new clients, I need to know that I can win.”
“This conversation will be confidential, right?”
Now, Vlad was curious. He leaned forward, itching to have another drink as he listened to a story that promised to be intriguing.
“My husband…” she sighed.
“My husband hasn’t been faithful,” she confessed.
Quetta pursed her lips after the confession. Her calm exterior was only slightly ruffled, but Vlad was good enough at reading people to see that she had been. She twirled her fingers around and fiddled with the clasp of her bracelet.
Vlad raised his eyebrow. Even he wasn’t resistant to such a delightful piece of gossip. Kareem Blackburn was a famous NBA player whose entire image as a celebrity was constructed around his Christian faith and his love for his Christian wife that he’d been with since college. Vlad couldn’t believe that the pure and wholesome family man could actually be a philanderer. A part of him wondered if Quetta was telling the truth.
“Listen… Mrs. Blackburn. I’m not sure what you’re looking for,” Vlad replied with a smile.
Quetta’s expression changed. She could tell that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She stopped fiddling with her bracelet and she grabbed her purse off his desk. Her eyes narrowed and she spoke to Vlad in a stronger voice than she’d ever managed to muster up.
“Listen Mr. Romanov. I’m a serious client asking you to negotiate a multi million dollar divorce. I don’t know what impression you have of me but I can pay your fee and I want your services. I’ve heard about you… a lot about you… And I know that you’re the only man who will be able to get me what I want. Everyone knows that you’re a sicko in the courtroom and you’ll do what it takes to win. I want that… I need that. So are you really going to say no to money on the table?”
She opened her purse and took out a checkbook. She wrote, in dazzling neat script and ripped the check, sliding it across the table. Vlad’s eyes popped open at the amount, which far exceeded his usual exorbitant retainer.
For someone who played the meek, innocent wife during TV interviews, it was clear that Quetta was no innocent. She was ready to play hardball. The check was all he needed to see.
“Listen Mrs. Blackburn, my tactics as a lawyer have been described as wily… devious and by some men, illegal.”
“I don’t care. All I want is to walk away from this divorce with exactly what I’m worth.”
“And exactly how much do you think you’re worth Mrs. Blackburn?”
“At least $200 million.”
“Alright. Tell me more about what’s happening with you and your husband.”
Quetta sat down and began to tell Vlad about everything that was happening with her husband. It was a shame how quickly everything seemed to deconstruct. She had grown accustomed to the idea of a forever with Kareem but everything had turned sour fast. Getting drafted in the league had seemed like a dream come true at the time. Now Quetta was wondering if her relationship had been ruined the moment Kareem signed his contract. Everything had changed. The moment he’d gone from her man to a media darling, her life was completely different.
“Kareem and I met in high school. I was part of the Christian Students Association and back then I’d taken a vow of chastity which included not dating any boys until I turned eighteen. Kareem honored my promise to wait and I supported his dream to play basketball. We started dating our first year of college. I still kept my promise, no matter what people thought. And he remained committed to me. I still remember after practice every day, we would hole up in my dorm room with our Bibles and talk about the word of the Lord…”
Vlad was trying to focus on Quetta’s story but reading the Bible together was not how he thought this was going to start. But Quetta was making a good point: when had it all gone wrong? How could a perfect couple that was so committed to each other fall apart so fast? Was the allure of money, cheap sex and power so great that it could break a bond made between two devout soulmates?
Quetta was continuing, “When Kareem signed his contract I was so happy… We had just been married and I’d just entered into a perfect relationship with my perfect man. I’d done everything exactly the way God had asked of me. Kareem was reaping the blessings of his faith too. I felt like nothing could go wrong. But it was only about a year or so before things began to change.”
Now this was the good stuff… Vlad thought to himself.
“He started lying to me. I didn’t know he was lying to me but I could tell. Our relationship with each other and with God was starting to falter. I hated it… I hated playing the perfect couple for the cameras and at all the ball games while knowing he was lying to me. It hurt so much to have to be that person who was being dishonest. But I didn’t dare let up the image. After a while, I started doing my research. If I’d found out it was just one time…” Quetta started tearing up.
Vlad waited, stoic for her to continue. A part of him felt for her but another part of him wondered what on earth she expected with a man who played in the NBA.
“If it was just one time I could have forgiven him. God would have wanted me to forgive him. But that wasn’t it. It was more than one time, with more than one person and after I tried to forgive him, he lied and did the same thing all over again. God wants me to forgive, but he doesn’t want me to ruin my life for a man who don’t love me no more. Kareem might think he still loves me, but he don’t. And when he realizes that he don’t, I’m gonna suffer. Are you capable of helping me Mr. Romanov?”
“I’ll help you Mrs. Blackburn. But… Please, call me Vlad.”
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