Leel ~ Nyte Tales

Sometimes, you just feel the urge to see blood. For Leel that was all the time. Blood was his favorite color! It matched everything!

Yes, maybe he was a bit crazy. But who wasn’t? Being sane wasn’t so great. It made you worry about situations you couldn’t possibly control. Who wanted to live like that? In an undesirable state of constant frustration?

He didn’t. And he wouldn’t.

He let all of that anxiety go. Now he lives in the world of blood. Blood gave him peace. It didn’t over analyze right and wrong. It simply existed! How amazing was that?

So, he tried to off his best friend’s woman. In his defense, that pretty little Russian redhead was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was still alive after all.

Much to his dislike.

The point was, she was alive. Leel would do anything to make sure his best friend was happy. And if that meant keeping the woman he wanted alive, so be it. They would take down the people who sought to do them harm and he would make sure he saw red in the process.


The Disciples

Novels, Stories, Uncategorized

Class ~ Nyte Tales

Despite the incredibly long history Class had with women, he found himself utterly captivated by this Russian beauty that called herself Lasha. With her independent attitude and determination she found herself in the middle of a problem he was in charge of handling. There were some unruly groups in the city that needed to be dealt with. That’s what he and his companions were doing when they happened upon her.

They were in the mist of dark times. It was a situation that called for severe violence. The kind of violence that was not for the weak of heart. Or foreign beauties. She meant well, but she was in the way.

So he decided, much to her disapproval, to keep an eye on her. She was delicate and beautiful and extremely capable of killing him if given the chance. He like this spitfire! That’s why he blocked her attempts to get too involved. She didn’t know the kind of people she was trying to take on. Didn’t know that they could rip her apart. They would kill her without giving it a second thought.

He couldn’t let that happen.

She was a breath of fresh air. He’d been around so much darkness that he forgot there could be another way of life. He wasn’t a good guy. At all. He’d killed many of his enemies. They had it coming. They were just as bad as he was. Some even worse. Still, he wasn’t the type of man you wanted to bring home to meet your parents. He wouldn’t even pretend he was.

But he liked her. A lot.

She thought she knew what type of world she was stepping into. She had no idea. Things went more than bump in the night. And he couldn’t just let her go out in that night by herself. Like it or not, she needed his protection.

The Disciples ~ Krystle Nyte

The Disciples eBook


The Family

Growing up I thought my dad had all the answers. Mainly because he had all the answers to every question I ever asked. Obviously, in my youthful mind, dad just knew everything. He was cool, never rattled about anything. And on top of that, he could build a basketball hoop out of a bed frame and some plywood. Clearly he was awesome.

My mom worked extremely hard. She was a RN. Her jargon was completely medical. Everything could be explained with medical metaphors and that infamous pathology book. She wasn’t laid back at all like my father. And her sense of humor was – well, medically morbid. My friends found her scary. She wasn’t one you’d want to test. My brother took a mean right hook from her once so I don’t blame them.

My brother Steven, the recipient of the before mentioned right hook, was my hero. I thought he could do no wrong. He was athletic, all my brothers were. But he was the oldest and in my eyes that made him bigger and stronger than the other two. He also had an uncanny habit of doing my spelling and math homework whenever he was talking to girls on the phone. All I had to do was wait until he got on the phone and ask for help. God bless him.

Brian, my very strange middle brother, is more like me than my other two siblings. Though he didn’t say much, I blame that completely on the headless chicken incident, but when he did I always found myself hanging on every word! It was normally a single word like ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Or a shoulder shrug. You have to love the shoulder shrug. It conveyed so much of his emotions. Even with the silent body language, I knew my weirdness matched his weirdness and that was a bond we’d always have.

Now on to my brother Tim, affectionately called Tim Tim by my parents and Timty by me. As a child he was humbly introverted. Wicked temper though! The boy could hold a grudge like a dog with a bone! He was two years older than me. I use to tag along behind him as much as possible. He was smart. Smarter than the average bear. His brain was like a sponge. He retained every drop of information he heard. It was like living with an encyclopedia. A well of knowledge was walking around my house and I loved knowledge. So of course I followed him everywhere. I was picking his brain.

This was my immediate family. The people who provided the many experiences that made growing up a Williams so memorable and so worthy to be told about.

Life, Novels, Stories, Uncategorized

Under the Influence of X-Ta-C

Under the Influence Of X-Ta-C is a collection of short stories and poems that I wrote in my early to mid-twenties. The title was inspired by my best friends. In high school we had a singing group called X-Ta-C. We were going to be the next TLC!

And En Vogue, SWV, Jade, etc.

The girls, who grew into awesome women, have been a constant in my life. Which means they have inspired some of the most ridiculous, random thoughts I’ve ever had. And I thank them for it!

One section of the book was co-witten by Ladye Dempals and it is pure silly madness that probably only makes sense to us. And that section was specifically written for my girls of X-Ta-C.

There’s a lot of emotions and themes through out the collection. Some can easily get lost. (Good thing they’re only short stories) In my early 20s I had a lot going on.

A lot. Going. On.

But if you love to laugh and sometimes cry, take a peek at this collection of short stories and poems.

You can find Under the Influence of X-Ta-C on lulu.com. Pen name Krystle Nyte.










The Threshold Characteristic

Since I’ve been married, seven years, I have never been carried over the threshold. I have, in fact, only been carried over the threshold twice.

His name, well, we’ll just call him Locks. And Locks was an ex, not even a current boyfriend at the time. The circumstances of the first threshold crossing involved a night club, a shot of 151 and an empty stomach. I love to dance and in my younger days I went dancing alone without reservation.

That particular night I met the burning fire that was called 151. By the end of the night I couldn’t stand on my own. Locks was there with his cousin Kel and seeing the horrid state I was in opted to help me out. Locks was cool that way.

As he lifted my limp form in his arms and carried me more than a hundred feet across the parking lot to my car, Kel jokingly said “Now that’s love. Anybody else would have had to walk real slow to the car.”

I have never forgotten that comment. I probably never will. That comment reminds me that there are people who will help you without expectations.

And Locks didn’t stop there. He drove me home because I obviously couldn’t drive myself. And when we got to my house he carried me inside, upstairs to my room and put me to bed.

He also put a trashcan beside the bed in case I needed to vomit.

He sat with me for a moment, making sure I was okay, and then he left.

The second time I was carried over the threshold also involved Locks. I called him, said I would need a ride home after a surgery I was having and he said okay. He always came when I needed him.

It was like deja vu.

He drove me home, because I obviously couldn’t drive myself. And when we got to my house he carried me inside, walked to the den and put me on the couch. Then he sat beside me on the floor while I slept for a couple of hours. And then he left.

Many of the male characters in my books have what I call the “Threshold Characteristic”. They’re helpful without expecting something in return. It’s my favorite character to write because in this day and age people don’t seem to have it. If you can’t do something for them they’ll do absolutely nothing for you.

So if you know someone with the Threshold Characteristic, make sure you treat them good.