FATIMA MUNROE

Fatima Munroe holds a Bachelor’s in Human Resource Management, won numerous workplace awards and commendations, and is considered a leader among her peers. In 2015, Fatima took a step out on faith and penned her first urban fiction novel. To date, she has authored/co-authored over forty titles and reached best seller status on Amazon numerous times. Fatima has also been recognized as one of the top 100 authors in urban fiction for the past five years (and counting) by Ubawa Magazine.

In 2020, Fatima launched Monreaux Publications in order to assist aspiring authors with showcasing their talent to a broader audience. 2021 brought nominations from Black Girls Who Write for numerous categories in which multiple Monreaux authors were nominated.

If you are an aspiring author or looking for a publishing home, consider Monreaux Publications. Contact Fatima via her website.

 

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N E W R E L E A S E

Weak For A Cold Hearted Goon

As an only child, Sommer Park was raised in a loving, two parent household in the suburbs. Sheltered from the streets, once Sommer graduated from UW-Madison with her degree in medicine, she decided to move to the city and open a free clinic. When Park Community Clinic opened their doors, Sommer felt good serving people who looked like her.

All Shannie Tyler knew about her childhood was being shuffled back and forth from foster home to foster home, mixed in with ample doses of abuse. Aging out of the system, Shannie was introduced to a life of crime. Left for dead on the steps of Park Community Clinic early one morning, Shannie welcomed the end with open arms. That is, until she realized she was staring at a pair of brown eyes similar to her own.

After discovering the woman unconscious on the steps of her clinic was indeed her long lost twin, Sommer had questions with answers her parents were unwilling to give. Determined to discover the truth about her past, Sommer is forced to venture into the very life she’d been raised to avoid: the cold streets of Milwaukee. What Sommer didn’t realize was she shared a face with a criminal.

Matteo Marino and his brothers ran the streets of Milwaukee with a hustle mentality. Whenever the streets got hot, Luca and Renato got the blocks popping until Matteo called for calm. Each man swore a blood oath to his brother to never allow anyone or anything to break their bond.

What should have been a business transaction between bosses turned into a situation far more heinous. Ready to strangle the woman who stole from him, Matteo looked in her eyes and found himself caught up in that crazy thing they called love. His head told him she had to go, but his heart wanted her to stay. Can a street king live happily ever after, knowing he put a price on the head of the one person he can’t murk? Or does he stay true to his reputation?

Sommer found herself entangled in a web of deceit and lies she didn’t weave. Does she find the answers she seeks? In the streets of Milwaukee, even the pretty girls get caught up…

 

T H E D E E T S . . .

Genre(s): Urban Romance, Urban Fiction, Contemporary Women

Standalone or Series: Series, Book 1

Novel or Novella: Novel

 

E X C E R P T

Sommer

“Congratulations Dr. Park!” went up from the crowd along with cheers and well wishes as I cut the ribbon on my new practice. Hard work plus patience and prayer got me to this day, and I couldn’t be prouder of myself. I wished I could share the moment with my parents, but I hadn’t spoke to them in a few years. Matilda, the lady who lived next door, told me they missed me and I should call, but I knew the price of that call was an apology that I wasn’t ready to give, especially since I hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Hey girlie, are you excited?” Torrie came all the way back from California to celebrate my moment. She’d dropped out of college when she met a tech programmer, and she was set for life after popping out not one but two of his kids. Bought her a big house and everything. Torrie offered to set me up with one of his brothers, but I declined. Plus I saw a picture of her kids and they looked like they bite.

“Yes.” I breathed with a smile, still unable to believe how much I’d done to secure my future on my own. Medical school was brutal by itself, but it took a special kind of woman to do the research and open her own practice with nothing but connections, conversations, and promises. I was determined to beat the odds, regardless of what my parents thought.

“Well, looks like Milwaukee has one hell of a doctor over here on this side of town,” Lana smiled warily at her wife, looking around the neighborhood. Yes, there were some less than savory characters in the crowd, but I also saw the relief on the faces of the women clapping and cheering as well.

They finally had someone they could go to who would listen to their ailments instead of telling them what was wrong with them and prescribing medication they didn’t need. I had to admit, I felt a sense of admiration in knowing I’d potentially be able to help them live longer lives. Living in poverty wasn’t an excuse for giving people subpar health care. At the end of the day, these women were someone’s aunt, someone’s mother, someone’s child. I had to show up for them or else my degree would have been in vain.

“And what does Guyon have to say about you opening a clinic in Milwaukee of all places?” Jessica’s condescending tone got on my nerves when she felt the need to put on a show for my friends. I grew up with these women, and she always tried too hard to fit in our bond.

“What does Guyon’s opinion have to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying,” she giggled in her attempt to patronize me. “Your parents spent all that money making sure you got a quality education and you’re basically throwing it away by opening up a clinic to serve these people—”

“THESE PEOPLE?” I whipped around and got in her face once we crossed the threshold to the clinic. The neighborhood ooouu’ed and aaahh’ed at the décor before scheduling our appointment book to capacity for the next two weeks. “Who exactly are you referring to with that comment?”

“Well, you know,” she looked back and forth between our clientele and Torrie before turning her attention back to me. “The poor.” She whispered with that same dumb smirk.

“Are you referring to the poor blacks, or the poor niggers?” Torrie snapped, all three of us ready to snap this woman’s neck. “Because whichever one you’re referring to will still kick your white trash ass the fuck outta this damn clinic!”

Jessica turned beet red, apparently she thought she had a friend because they were all the same skin color. What she didn’t know was that Torrie and Lana didn’t play when it came to me and vice versa. Had I known Jessica was a racist, hypocritical Karen, she wouldn’t have been around me for as long as she had. She definitely wouldn’t have been at the grand opening of my new clinic.

“Move around,” Lana’s beautiful melanin wife Shameka pushed Jessica towards the door, giving her back a gentle nudge to hurry her along. “This right here ain’t what you want, trust me.”

Jessica gathered herself and walked out with her nose held high in the air, not allowing her embarrassment to show. I turned back around and saw Torrie and Lana giving our clientele hugs and shaking hands. A few of them overheard our conversation and appreciated my friends for standing up for them. My grandmother would have been proud.

Growing up in a predominantly white suburb, my family was one of two black families in our city. I wasn’t subjected to any of the racial injustices from my social media pages, but I did donate to the Breonna Taylor fund as well as George Floyd’s GoFundMe for his daughter. Wrong is wrong, regardless of where it happened and the circumstances surrounding it.

“Why she worried about what Guyon gonna say?” Torrie asked once we were able to go to my office to talk. “Didn’t you and him break up right before you graduated?”

“Which just goes to show you how big of a heart I have,” I huffed, plopping down in my chair. “I haven’t seen that man since before I walked across that stage.”

“That’s sad. How you call yourself a friend to somebody when you don’t even know what’s going on in their lives?” Lana spoke up, escorting her wife inside my office as well. I looked at the women sitting in front of my desk and smiled. Most women have a person, that one woman who they could call whenever they were going through a rough patch or two in their lives in addition to celebrating their wins. Luckily for me, I had three. “I have no idea.”

“What happened with you and…what did she say his name was? Guy?” Shameka spoke up.

“Guyon.” I got comfortable, checking my cell and the desk phone to make sure they both were silent before I told my story. “Ok, so y’all know I was working on my senior thesis for a while, right?”

“Mmhmm.” Torrie and Lana both nodded.

“Six months of my life I spent researching, interviewing, writing…doing everything I needed to do to finish up sixteen extra years of school. I was excited, finally about to get my degree, right?”

“Right,” Shameka nodded.

“Girl, tell me why THE WEEK BEFORE I was supposed to turn in my thesis, we got into an argument and this man DELETED my shit!”

“What!” Shameka gripped her chest, two seconds from fake choking. “How!”

“That same bitch y’all just kicked out of here let him in our house after me and him had been arguing about us not spending time for about a week!” I snapped, getting mad all over again as I thought about it. “She claims she left, but he went in my room and got my laptop. This man politely searched through my files, found my damn thesis, and deleted it.”

“Did you—”

“He even went and deleted it out of my recycle bin,” I continued. “It was nowhere, wasn’t on my cloud, wasn’t in my emails…my thesis was literally NOWHERE.”

“Sommer, I’m so sorry for you,” Shameka reached over and patted my hand. “How did you graduate?”

“My professor was cool. I’d been sending him ideas and pieces of my thesis the whole time, and he graded me off of those pieces. He had to drop my grade because I didn’t turn in the completed assignment by the due date. I didn’t graduate magna cum laude, but as long as I walked that was good enough for me.”

“Sommer, we should still be beating his ass.” Torrie crossed a leg over the other and pulled a stick of gum out of her purse to compensate for not being able to smoke. “Hers too for that matter.”

“She didn’t know we weren’t on speaking terms, so I can’t blame that on Jessica, but after that whole poor comment and nigger insinuation, I’m not sure.”

“Closeted fucking racists,” Lana seethed. “Can’t stand the color of your skin, yet secretly wanna be you. Fuckers.”

“I mean…does she know you’re black?” Shameka snickered. “You can’t say no shit like that to a black woman and think she ain’t gonna respond!”

“Sommer ain’t gonna risk her reputation, so she would’ve threw her out. Me, however…” Torrie cracked her knuckles as she spoke. “I don’t live here, and my husband got enough money to buy her whole life! Matter of fact, Sommer gimme her address. I got a couple more things to get off my chest!”

“Calm down, killa!” I snickered. Torrie was riled up and if it wasn’t my big day, I would’ve let her loose so we could all take turns mopping the streets with that woman. At the end of the day, we were adults. Grown people let pettiness roll down their backs and focus on the bigger picture, not engage in berating and belittling other adults. Regardless of our past, my mother lived in Elkhorn, Wisconsin, not wherever Jessica was calling home these days.

“Moving right along.” Lana changed the subject. “From the looks of it, you’re gonna do a lot of good in this community, Sommer. We’re proud of you!”

“Thank you.” I smiled. New place, new practice, new patients. I was looking forward to what Milwaukee had to offer.

*

Park Community Clinic had been open for a few weeks, and we were nonstop from the time the doors opened until they closed. Not only did we have appointments, but our walk in clinic stayed packed. I knew there would be a demand, but I didn’t plan on what I got. Thank God for His mercies because my cup was running over.

By the time I got to work in the mornings the clinic already had a line of people waiting to be seen. I told the staff to plan on coming in an hour earlier and staying at least an hour later so we could at least try to help everyone. Even I had to adjust my schedule, because someone had to do the paperwork to file with the state. Phyllis, the lady I hired to work in billing, had years of experience, but after scheduling her own visit with me, decided to retire. Her doctor had been telling her for years she was depressed, but after running a full battery of tests, I found out she actually had MS. Until I hired her replacement, I took care of submitting the paperwork for reimbursement myself.

The clinic opened at eight, but I usually pulled my car in the parking spot next to the front door at around six a.m. That gave me two uninterrupted hours to take care of filing and emails because when those doors opened it would be business as usual. Pulling up to the building, I parked my car and walked up to the front steps, noticing some garbage bags thrown across the front steps. Apparently the groundskeeper hadn’t made it yet, either that or it wasn’t his day to work. I wasn’t above picking up paper nor emptying trash, considering the building belonged to me. On a Tuesday morning though, I didn’t have fifteen minutes to clean when I needed to get everything filed and submitted from the day before.

“Let me call—” I started and stopped once I got closer to the front steps and noticed it wasn’t garbage bags on the front steps. It was a body. “OH MY GOD!”

The woman’s head rolled back and forth from side to side before her eyes finally opened. Something about her face was so familiar…wait…it couldn’t…could it? “Help me,” she wheezed weakly before her head drooped…