After finally ending her year-long fling with a man she only refers to as Bad Habit, the narcissistic, temperamental Alexandria Stone moves back home to New York to start her dream job. That is, until she discovers she’s pregnant, with quadruplets. When a business merger leaves her jobless and penniless, she has no other choice but to move to Atlanta with Bad Habit, a seductive, callous man she despises due to their rocky past. Desperate to have a picture-perfect life, Alex becomes convinced she must make Bad Habit fall in love with her, no matter the cost. MISCONCEPTIONS is a hilarious and sexy nine-month chronicle of Alexandria’s doomed quest for a perfect life.
“If you keep eating like that you won’t have enough food to last the weekend,” Bad Habit said while coming down the stairs, carrying an overnight bag. I looked up from my plate of barbeque chicken wings, sucking the remnants off my fingers.
“And it’s only nine a.m.” he added while trashing the empty cartons of orange juice I left on the counter.
“I’m eating for five. Piss off,” I snapped, my mouth full of smothered meat. It had been weeks since I had a real appetite and now all I was craving was chicken. Mountains of chicken. Legs, thighs, wings, breast stacked to the ceiling.
He shook his head in disgust. “Weren’t you in the kitchen earlier this morning?”
He must be referring to the six packs of his favorite instant oatmeal I ate at four-thirty.
I nodded my head in between bites.
“You were asleep. I guess another looooong night. Humph!”
Bad Habit left for work every day like clockwork and he went out almost every night. A mixture of various undefined meetings, happy hours, and random fuckery kept him out late while I stayed home alone for thirteen hours a day. He ignored my side eye and zipped up his bag.
“I’m heading to Vegas for a conference this weekend. I’ll be back Sunday.”
“Sure, whatever,” I said with zero care while scavenging through the fridge with my sticky fingers.
I could’ve sworn we had some potato salad in here.
“You know,” he began. “Maybe you shouldn’t be eating so much.”
I froze and spun around, catching him checking out my ass.
“Well, maybe you should…exercise a bit.”
My mouth dropped and the relief of the cold breeze from the freezer vanished.
No. He. Didn’t.
“Are you calling me fat?”
He shrugged while walking toward the pantry.
“No, but you have been eating a lot more lately. And aren’t you supposed to be taking some vitamins or something?”
“They’re horse pills. You take them. And quit changing the subject. You think I’m fat!”
“No, but…well…it may just help with your…anxiety.”
He took out the last pack of instant oatmeal and waved the empty box at me. Furious, I held my hands on my hips.
“Oh well gee thanks for the marvelous advice! Let me just unzip out of this fucking fat suit and go for a brisk run. Hmmm…can’t seem to find the zipper. You think you could help me out?”
Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his bag and headed for the door. I followed.
“Alexandria, it’s perfectly acceptable to engage in physical activity while you’re pregnant. Plenty of women do. I’ve seen them at the gym.”
“Yeah, well THOSE women aren’t the size of a damn planet at four months!”
You never ever call a woman fat, especially when she’s pregnant! Even callous bastards like him should know that much.
He stopped at the hall console to comb through an unopened pile of mail. I stood behind him.
“What, no response?”
Say something. Anything. Please give me an excuse to rip out your tongue with rusty pliers.
“Given your current condition, I’ve chosen to disregard your shenanigans as mere hormonal outbursts,” he said using his normal cold formalness.
He finds his car keys and turns around with a smirk.
Ugh. His audacity disgusts me.
“I may be pregnant, hormonal, and maybe even fat, but this is temporary. You however are a permanent dick! How about you try not to say or do anything stupid from now on?”
He grinned, amused by my outburst, and opened the door.
He thinks this is funny. So I’m a joke now?
“Alexandria, do you need another spanking?”
I gasped, mortified by what we did the night before and took a step back. He laughed.
“That’s what I thought. I wouldn’t mind, but I have a flight to catch. Be back on Sunday. Hopefully the food will hold out until I return.”
And with a smirk, he shut the door behind him.
Blu Daniels is a TV professional by day, novelist by night, awkward black girl 24/7. A Howard University graduate and Brooklyn native, she is a lover of naps, cookie dough, beaches and randomly nerdy stuff. She currently resides in BK with her adorable chihuahua, Oscar, working on her next two novels.