From the author ofCruising and CrazyLove comes an I-can't-believe-you-really-said-that novel about hot-as-hell twin sisters who share everything except their taste in men, and a fine-ass brother from Chicago.Felicia and Aisha Goodman need separate places. Aisha can't settle on any one man, and night after night of loud, hot sex in the room next door is driving Felicia crazy. But neither can imagine life without the other.The solution: 1920 Peachtree, owned by their good friend Tarik. The twins can each have an apartment, yet still work together at the accounting firm they own. But for two crazy sistahs like Felicia and Aisha, life is never simple. Aisha's eyeing Derrick upstairs, even after his pregnant ex-girlfriend from Chicago turns up. Felicia is having a secret affair that will shock even her sex-crazed sister, and her life takes an even crazier turn when she falls in love with her best friend. And they're both beginning to wonder if the business they started was the right choice.It's a bumpy ride, but the twins are set to prove that determined women truly can have it all -- careers, maybe marriage, and certainly lots of good, hot sex....

Desiree Day has worked in the banking, telecommunication, and information technologies industries, as well as in academia. Her fiction has appeared in Woman's World and on the Internet. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia.

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Chapter 1

"Oh shit!"

"Oh, Miguel!"

"Work those hips, girl!"

"They're working overtime for you, baby."

"I'ma slap that ass!"

"Slap it hard!"

"Ooh, make it bounce, baby!"

"Nu-uh. You make it bounce for me!"

"I'm bouncing, baby! I'm bouncing!"

The sounds snatched Felicia Goodman out of a deep sleep. Her eyes snapped open as though unhinged. Anger built and worked its way up her spine with every grunt, moan and groan that seeped into her room until she went as rigid as a pole. The paper-thin walls muffled nothing. "Not again," she sighed before pulling her pillow over her head. But the sounds trickled through her down pillow and into her ears. Cursing, she tossed the pillow to the floor and glanced at the alarm clock.

"Two o'clock in the morning. Damn her! I'm going to kick her ass," she vowed, before burrowing her head under the covers, then clamping her hands over her ears. Thirty minutes later she drifted off into a restless sleep.

The next morning Felicia dragged herself into the kitchen. Circles the color of rotten apples stained the area under her eyes. The lack of sleep made her look like a half-dead raccoon.

Her fraternal twin sister, her business partner, her roommate of twenty-eight years and her best friend, Aisha, was already at the table picking at two slabs of burnt toast and looking like she had just spent a weekend at a spa. Her creamy chocolate-hued skin glowed and her eyes sparkled. "Good morning," Aisha sang.

Felicia glared at her, then, "It's not a good morning. As a matter of fact, it's a horrible morning," she practically growled.

"Uh-oh! What's wrong with you, girl?"

"'Work them hips.... I'ma slap that ass,' " Felicia muttered, mimicking her sister's lover. Aisha burst out laughing. "It's not funny, 'Isha!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to hear us. I thought we were being quiet. I did!" she insisted at seeing her sister shaking her head with disgust. "These walls are too thin."

Felicia regarded her sister. All their friends had teasingly dubbed them the Goodman Siamese twins, because they were always together, and if they weren't in the same room they were on the phone with each other. They had the same body shape, the one all the Goodman women had. Barely seeing five foot one and with enough curves to make Tyra Banks jealous.

Felicia's shoulder-length hair was pulled into a haphazard ponytail and Aisha's hair was a tousled mess on her head, reminding Felicia of a bird's nest. Felicia was the color of toasted white bread and Aisha was the color of lush dark chocolate. "This is the third time this month that you didn't mean for me to hear you. You know the walls are about as thin as a Kotex pad," Felicia finally answered. "How come you never go over to Miguel's place?"

Even when they were freshmen at Howard, Aisha had more men parading in and out their room than a casting director for a hip-hop video. And that behavior had carried over to every apartment they'd shared.

"I guess I could go over to his place, but he said that he liked my bed."

"Yeah, because your ass is in it," Felicia snorted. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs, cheese, chopped ham, tomatoes, mushrooms and green onions. "Where is he anyway?" She stood on tiptoes as she peered into the cabinet for a bowl, and when she found one big enough she placed it on the table. Aisha glanced at her rockhard toast, then hungrily eyed the items.

"He left. He grumbled something about working out."

"He still needs a workout?" Felicia asked, her voice rising with incredulity. "It sounded like he worked out four times last night." She reached under the sink for a skillet, quickly cleaned it before coating it with oil, set it on the stove, then turned the burner on low.

"I wish. It was only three," Aisha corrected her sister.

"Whatevah, girl! This is bananas. I haven't had a good night's sleep in like forever," Felicia complained as she cracked four eggs into the bowl and began whipping them until they were as fluffy as clouds. "I can barely concentrate at work. I've turned into a freaking zombie."

"Stop exaggerating. It's not that bad."

"Yeah, it is," Felicia argued. "I was catering a job yesterday and I was so tired that I was tempted to use my red velvet cake as a pillow. I love you, girl, and we've been hugged up together since we were in Momma's stomach, but this can't continue." She poured the egg mixture into the pan, then tilted it until the egg mixture firmed before expertly flipping it. As soon as the batter looked like a yellow Frisbee, she sprinkled on the tomatoes, green onions, ham, mushrooms and cheese, then she folded the eggs, nestling the goodies inside. Aisha's stomach growled and her mouth watered as the aroma wafted through the kitchen. Felicia slid the omelet onto her plate.

"I know. I'm sorry." Aisha picked over her toast. "What are we gonna do? I don't want to give up my men but I don't want you pissed off at me every morning either."

Felicia eyed her sister's breakfast and burst out laughing. "What the hell are you eating? It looks like slices of leather. Here take this," she said feeling sorry for her sister. She cut the omelet in half and passed it to her.

"Thanks, girl," Aisha said, grateful for the food. She immediately stuck a forkful in her mouth. "I think the toaster's broke," Aisha mumbled around a mouthful of eggs.

"It worked fine for me yesterday. I think it's more of a case of operator error," Felicia answered. "I don't want you to give up your men. But you know that's something to think about," Felicia started, and Aisha groaned. Whenever her sister said "you know" some shit wasn't too far behind.

"So far this year you've dated two men named Patrick, three Derricks, four Larrys, three Michaels, two Roberts, one Lorenzo, three Phillips and two Miguels."

"I guess I like variety," Aisha laughed.

"I don't think so. It means that your ass slept with half of Atlanta," Felicia retorted. They were quiet as they ate their breakfast. Aisha shot her sister a grateful glance. If it wasn't for Felicia she wouldn't have anything decent to eat. Her skills in the kitchen were just as bad as Tammy Faye Bakker's skills were in the makeup area. Just as Aisha stuck some of her breakfast into her mouth, Felicia broke the silence. "You know," she started, and Aisha rolled her eyes. "I think we should get separate places," she announced.

Aisha's fork dropped to her plate and made a loud clanking sound.

Excerpted from One G-String Short of Crazy by Desiree Day
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