A Glimpse Into My TWISTED Upcoming Releases (Free & Official)

CRAVE: Ambitions Of A Family Addicted To Power(Chapter 1)

The thick bodied nineteen year old black girl closed the door of her mother's tiny two bedroom apartment, which she lived in with several brothers and sisters; some older, some younger. Like most everyone else in the building, the rent was being paid every month with either Welfare benefits or Section 8 Vouchers. She made her way down the hall amidst loud music and profane language filled yelling coming from behind several of the doors she passed by. As she headed to the elevator, everything from fresh urine to even fresh blood filled her nostrils. The stench didn't nauseate her though. The loud noise coming from behind the doors didn't bother her neither. None of it made her cringe or grimace. She was used to it. In fact, she was a proud product and representative of it.

          The word "Violent" was an understatement to describe The Wentworth Garden Projects located on the Southside of Chicago. The projects, nicknamed "Murder Town", were nothing less than a miniature Vietnam. They were a cesspool infested with guns, drugs, murder, and prostitution; a cesspool which those who weren't residents and who valued their lives refused to venture into, especially at night.

          The nineteen year old, dressed in skin tight jeans, a tight tank top and new Lebron's stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby. Moments later, she was outside her towering several-storied brick building and making her way down 43rdunderneath the spring sun. As she walked with her I-phone in her hand, she purposely swung her curvaceous ass from side to side showing out for the countless dopeboys posted on both sides of the strip.

          The strip and the entire project complex was filled with its usual: transactions, crackheads, whips swerving with loud music pouring from their trunks and windows, prostitutes sucking dick in hallways and cuts, young boys strolling with guns underneath their white tees, niggas slap boxing in the middle of the street, etc, etc. Wentworth Gardens never slept, never changed. And now with the arrival of spring's warm weather, the projects were only going to get more and more restless and lethal. That was a given.

          As the young lady sashayed along 43rd, her ears basked in the sounds and chaos around her. This was home to her and she had no plans whatsoever of leaving any of it behind. If anything, she was proud of its increasing murder rate and the episodes of The First 48 it graced. The more dead bodies, the better. It let outsiders know her 'hood wasn't to be played with.  She took pride in reppin' for Wentworth anytime she ventured out into the rest of the world. She saw no shame in it.

          The breasts of the young woman showed nicely over her tank top exposing her "Murder Town" tattoo over her heart. The solid curves of her ass, hips and thighs showed gorgeously through the tightness of her jeans. And her feet looked small and petite in her sneakers. It all came together attractively as the soles of her Lebron's stepped onto the concrete of a Family Dollar parking lot and made their way directly towards a parked dark blue BMW M6 coupe sitting on chrome rims and Perelli tires. As soon as she reached the passenger's side, she opened the door and hopped in.

          In the driver's seat of the whip dressed in a short-sleeved Polo shirt, jeans and white Air forces, was a bald headed dark skinned man. He looked to be in his early twenties as he inhaled the end of a Blunt and then exhaled its smoke through his nostrils to the windshield a moment later.

The ensuing conversation between both the man and woman was brief and to the point. A moment later the man handed the young woman a rectangular envelope stuffed with crispy one hundred dollar bills; a total of ten thousand dollars. Seconds later, she was out of the car and headed across the parking lot back to the projects as The BMW backed out of its parking space and then headed towards the opposite end of the parking lot.