“We’re only a problem until they need us. Now they need us to keep their asses alive!”

Algo Alemayehu has it all: a ritzy townhouse on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, a personal chauffeur, exotic vacations, and luxuries only the super-rich can afford. But his lavish lifestyle comes at a cost. Algo is a “gigi,” or a kept man, sworn to satisfy the needs of his billionaire “daddy” in an international secret society called Barincino. Youth, sophistication and extraordinary good looks distinguish all gigis, but African gigis are most desired. When Algo discovers the reason is far more sinister than sex, he enlists an unlikely accomplice to expose members of this centuries-old fraternity. They two men get caught and must harness the very genetic intelligence Barincino wishes to exploit before it’s too late.

A captivating thriller that masterfully explores the intersection of power, sexuality, and genetic memory, Kept will keep readers riveted until its explosive ending!

A CONVERSATION WITH ALONZO WESTBROOK

WHAT SPURRED KEPT, AND HOW LONG DID IT TAKE TO WRITE?

The current state of the America and our global society. There is urgency in the now and it seems few are paying attention. Earth literally is on fire—fire tsunamis, Biblical rains, erupting volcanoes, and a novel respiratory virus that is sucking the literal life out of us; the 150 unconscious biases that play in our heads at any given time, divisive values and wealth, the quiet multi-trillion dollar space race to escape the revelation, along with the continuing maltreatment of Black men with vexing emotional bipolarity, a simultaneous fear and lust with fluctuating dominance, which, as of 2020, have lasted 400 years—these are themes that give rise to Kept.

In this space of uncertainty, some Black men I know seek to be kept—to be taken care of by other men. They see it as easy money, a quick come-up. They sell themselves short. While forever beautiful, they have far more to offer, which like the global firestorms, they don’t seem to notice. Kept is to remind Black men of their physical virility and intellectual brilliance.

WHO AM I?

I live in Harlem, NYC.

I am a bachelor. (My last date was at a gun range.)

I am an Aquarian, January 26.

I am an educator of differently-abled high school students. I see my colleagues and myself as the last formal voice before we send our youth into the world. I also teach creative writing at a local NYC college, am a football coach, and a Ph.D. candidate.

I read daily. I write less than I read. I talk even less. I have a mixture of amazing friends across the world but speak to them irregularly. An introvert, I struggle with small talk. I like to travel and usually do so alone to learn perspectives. Knowledge fuels me as does exercise. I workout five days a week, but rarely take off two days, mainly because the breadbox on top of my refrigerator is full of candy. It’s weird though because I don’t like things too sweet. Speaking of which, I came out as gay at 28 and am, at last, in my gay adulthood. David Geffen remains a hero for his service, Kanye for his humanity, Lebron James for his heightened existence; and my latest fuck-with is Ryan Murphy—the “housemother” who is RAISING the children. These men remind me of my mother, that great, unselfish, giving, loving, paradoxical woman—my first real hero.