Twenty-four year old Kaylin Ramirez has been through a lot for the past 4 years. She falls in love with family friend and drug lord Terrell Whyte. After years of their ups and downs, she starts to question if she really wants to be with him?

Warning: Mature audiences only. "I love you," he whispered seductively in my ears sending chills throughout my entire body. I was more than in love with this man. He had my mind going wild with just a single touch of his soft hands against my skin. "I want you," he says as he gently pulls me into his arms and kisses my lips passionately. Making my body want more of the sensational feeling his affection created in my body. I was most definitely sprung and I honestly didn't want this amazing feeling he gave me to ever end. He was phenomenal, and he had all of the attributes I looked for in a man. He was fine as hell, romantic, consistent, loyal, funny, active, and had money. "How can a man be so perfect?" I thought in my head as I looked lustfully into his dark brown eyes. "Or maybe he isn't as perfect as I think?" I questioned myself being opened to the possibility that I was slightly blinded by his perfections. "Or what if he's playing me and he's not who I think he is at all?" I thought jokingly, quickly eliminating that possibility. ****************** Who is this wondrous man? is he as great as he seems? Or are the possibilities endless? Follow Nevaeh Nicole Johnson on her search for happiness. Maybe she's already found it? But you'll have to find out.

𝘒𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘣𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘺 ༯ Apart of the FAMU & Heaven series. You don't have to read FAMU or Heaven is a Teenage Girl to read the book!!

"𝗠𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆"

"Solè, why'd you stay?" "Because, Zaire... you the first thing that ever felt worth staying for." ❀ 🝳 ❀ Harlem held the noise. Solè gave Zaire the quiet. Zaire Knox, Harlem's quiet storm, known for his ties to the streets and a gaze that read people faster than they could lie to him. Respected. Feared. Loved. With scars buried deeper than his tattoos, he never planned to love soft. Until a Harlem vinyl shop left behind by his late grandfather forces him to slow down, to breathe, to find his real purpose in the world beyond the streets. Solè Sinclair, soft but unbreakable, raised by her father after loss. By day, she serves warmth behind the counter of a café. By night, she disappears into her art, trying to paint the parts of herself no one ever sees. When their worlds cross, the city shifts. What starts off tense and unexpected turns tender. Together, they learn love can hold you just as fierce as the streets ever did, and softer, too. A Harlem story. A hood love. A soft place to land. ❀ 🝳 ❀

Love had always been an iffy thing when it came to Sayanni, she never really believed in it, her mother was dead and her father..... well she didn't even know who he was. She was never shown what real love is. Tv and Books can only teach you so much of what love should be. To tell the truth the amount of times she'd "fallen in love" couldn't be counted on both her fingers and toes. There was Binny from the Waffle House across the street, there was that one boy she'd seen at the mall once, there was the father of her child, and many many more. Delusional at times was a understatement. But she was young and had her whole entire life to fall in love. Then someone she'd never expect came into her life and she had definitely fallen, to the point where getting back up wasn't an option. She was hopelessly and entirely lost in what their love was. © 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

Milan Cozart lived on the low-end of Chicago. A part of the city that was unbeknownst to tourists, yet never seemed to leave the front cover of the news... for murders. In this cutthroat slice she called home, there was one rule: Show no mercy. However, when you hold the life of a notorious drug lord in your hands... you may find yourself hesitating. Milan knew the rule, but she also knew who Ramses Young was as well. The man had spared the life of her brother the night her parents had died. Now, he laid bleeding out in her arms. He was meant to die. Because of her, he lived. And, because of her, bodies would drop.