“Have you tried to talk with him? You should invite him for coffee.”
“Once and only once did I get the nerve to even say hello to him, and that was a year after he got here. I mean, he would call me sometimes and ask me about certain files and such, and when he did, I would say something like, ‘How do you like working here?’ or ‘How are you feeling today?” or my favorite… ‘Nice weather we are having, aren’t we?’ So yeah, you should know the answer to that question.” With a shrug, I turned back to my work, answering phones while typing in data on my computer.
I still had my dreams. At least I could be happy with those.
Later on, when I had to make a run to the bathroom, I rushed around the corner and felt as if I’d literally run into a brick wall. All I saw were folders and papers cascading down in front of me to land at my feet in a huge pile. Whatever I had run into without looking was large and solid, and when I looked up, I discovered I’d about bowled over my six-foot-tall, hunky man of my dreams. The second thing I noticed was that he smelled like heaven on earth.
He stared at me with the most inquisitive looking eyes, scanning my face as if to see what I was going to say or do.
I mumbled a quick, “I’m so sorry,” and then got down on all fours and picked up the mess I’d made.
A moment later, he joined me, kneeling beside me on the floor. I looked over to see him smiling at me while I frantically grabbed folders and other important-looking documents.
“No problem at all, Sarah. I wasn’t looking where I was going, either.”
His voice was so smooth and soothing, I immediately wondered how he would sound over the phone or while holding me in his arms, while whispering in my ear. Damn, I really needed to find a man…or maybe just get laid sometime within this millennium.
Wait just one minute. Did he just say my name?
We both stood, and I handed over all the papers I’d scooped up.
“It was my fault entirely,” I said. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, either.”
“Having a good day so far, Sarah?” he asked, changing the subject.
All I could do was nod and smile like some goofy teenager dealing with her first-time crush. “Yeah, it’s been a good day today, and you?”
Writer Jamallah Bergman was born in Jamaica Queens, New York. Although her family moved around a bit; from New York to Alabama to Georgia. Jamallah's childhood was mostly spent in Roswell, Georgia.
At the age of twelve, Jamallah started writing scripts for her doll babies. As she got older, her inclination to write grew.
Soon after reading her first romance novel at fifteen; she became hooked on romance and deviated from writing her doll baby stories, to romantically inclined stories.
Her thirst to write eventually sent her from one out of the box experience to another. She eventually engaged her thoughts and writing into writing erotic stories.
As Jamallah's interest as a reader grew, questions aroused her curiosity. Why were the heroines in the stories she loved so much, nothing like herself. She felt none of the women were full figured, or plump. To coin a phrase from the well-known comedienne Mo'Nique, like "Thick Madame", a thick and curvy woman.
Often she became upset because she felt there should be stories out there about all types of women, including thick, beautiful women like herself. Why were there no stories about full figured women who got the handsome hunk? She would ask herself after reading another romance story where the beautiful main character was thin.
After researching and finding very few stories about curvy women, Jamallah thought it was time the romance readers market read more stories about full figured heroines.
She started to write stories where the full figured woman 'ALWAYS' got her man!