"Kassauni, there is more to life than continuous pain and suffering. I am sure you know that, and no one is asking you to go through it alone," She told me. I took a long drag from the blunt and held it in my lungs before releasing it. "Whatever yah talk 'bout sound like a fairy tale and mi nuh want yuh feel like me is a problem fi yuh fix," I stated, staring into her eyes. She frowned, deeply. "You need to talk to someone, or me. I am here for you if you need anything." Her voice came out softer than usual. "Rosalia, left that. It nuh concern yuh," I told her. She hissed her teeth and slapped the blunt out of my hand. "Mi try talk to yuh, but if yuh nah go at least try to get help then mi nuh need fi deh here. Stay by yuhself since a that yuh fucking want." She turned and started walking away. // He was abandoned by his parents. Time and time again they let him down, not realizing that each time it was draining him. He isn't the most sentimental guy, probably one of the most nonchalant and controlling people you've ever met. She was sweet and came from what people would call the perfect family. In a short time, she made him indecisive and question himself. Peeled away every armor he had shielding his insecurities. She broke him but stood by him while he rebuilt himself into a better man. The man he always wanted to be. The man he knew she deserved. _______________________________ - Mature Content (18+) - Violence

And I just look at her. "Ain't no n***a alive deserve to be with a woman as pretty as you," I say, pulling a spliff from my pocket, lighting it then taking a puff. She keeps her chin steady, but I see it, the way her eyes keep drifting to me and then away again. Like she's trying not to get caught up in the tension of the moment. Our eyes lock in this intense stare, neither of us willing to be the first person to break it. I drink her in, inhale everything that has me hooked around her finger, and more. We're mere inches apart, our faces hovering together, trapped in the intimacy. "Yuh think yuh deserve mi?" she replies, cocking her head to the side, the corners of her lips twitching with something between mischief and what I pray is lust. I get ready to exhale, eager to release the smoke from my spliff. Before I can, her fingers find my face, pulling it even closer to hers. My next exhale becomes her next inhale, our lips exchanging the sinful scent. "Hell nah..." I drawl, grinning at her slowly. "But me already know me aguh spend di rest a mi life trying to. Yuh know seh ah only when yuh deh beside me, me breath easy?"

BEWARE: Strong sexual content and explicit language. Inseparable; people love being together, It's not that they can't be separated, but they don't want to. Love comes in all different ways, love is beautiful but it can also be ugly. Both Kacian and Sanjay gave up on love because of the hurt they received from previous relationship. For Kacian she swore not to love deeply again but she did when she met Sanjay, the man that swore not to love again but to get his revenge on woman. The woman he choose to take his revenge on is the young single mother that falls madly in love with him. How will this end? Him being successful in with his revenge or fail miserable? Chapters are out so please go ahead and check them out. Another 🇯🇲 romance you don't want to miss.

Armanii is Jamaica's newest dancehall star lighting up the charts and your TikTok feed, but don't get it twisted, he's over the "internet artiste" label and dead serious about proving he's the real deal. Behind the hype, the chains, and the stage lights? A man dealing with the cold, quiet side of fame. Then boom! Alisa Miller enters the chat. Straight out of New York, privacy and unbothered girl in her own lane. Love? Not on her to-do list. She's focused, intentional, and allergic to drama. So how do they end up next to each other on a flight to Jamaica? One little seat mix up and suddenly it's vibes, side-eyes, and unexpected sparks. She's not here for the noise, but Armanii? He's intrigued. One missed DM, one flight, and suddenly he's chasing more than just hit songs. Thing is, Alisa's quiet life and Armanii's loud world? Oil and water. Paparazzi, secrets, temptation, and trust issues? That's just Tuesday. But maybe, just maybe, the right kind of chaos can make the sweetest music. So buckle up because this love story is messy, magnetic, and way too real. And yuh see Armani and Alisa? Dem might just be each other's favorite Rough Patch.

Dr. Monáe Blackwell is a highly educated OBGYN, committed to her patients and her career. King is a younger slightly rude construction worker. ******************** I heard his footsteps behind me but I avoided him as I walked through the curtain and into the living room. "A you me a talk to enuh." "I'm not arguing with nobody's child." I said as I put on my shoes and walked out the door. I didn't notice that he was following me until I was at the gap in the fence. "Child? Mi a big man. Yuh think 25 a pickney?" Again I didn't answer. I focused my attention on the fence and tried to maneuver through the wire. Just my luck, the wires hooked the back of my leggings waist. "See it deh, you get hook. Mi just fi lef you right yasso." ********** This is a cutesy book!! Nothing tumultuous❤️❤️

In Jamaica, love is never innocent. It is inherited, traded, bought, buried, and sometimes-weaponized. From the zinc-fenced lanes where hunger sharpens ambition, to the hilltop mansions where legacies rot behind marble gates, power moves quietly. Money whispers. Bloodlines decide futures long before hearts get a say. And the people who rise fastest are rarely the ones who play fair. This is a country where uptown smiles are rehearsed, ghetto loyalty is lethal, and desire doesn't ask permission. Where women learn early that softness is a liability, and men confuse ownership with love. Where bodies are currencies, secrets are shields, and survival often looks like sin. At the center of it all is a love story that was never meant to be tender. Only consuming. Only dangerous. Only inevitable. Wicked Love is not about happily-ever-after. It is about what happens when ambition falls in love with hunger... when class collides with obsession... when two people mistake control for devotion and call it destiny. This is a story of wealth built on silence. Of women who refuse to stay small. Of men who learn too late that power does not equal possession. Welcome to the space between ghetto and uptown- where love is wicked, loyalty is costly, and everything beautiful comes with blood on it.

Azahirhia Stewart's life has never been simple. She's survived abuse, heartbreak, and betrayal, but nothing could prepare her for the chaos that comes with love. Caught between Nickoy, the boy she loves, and Romaine, the one who complicates everything, Azi struggles to trust anyone - even herself. Friends and enemies blur, secrets unravel, and danger is never far. Sometimes love sweet. Sometimes love sour. But in this story? Love dangerous.

"Babes if mi tell yuh half the things mi guh through, would you still love me?" He asked looking me dead in the eyes. Idk.

✨ The Heart of a Church Girl ✨ In the heart of Kingston, where church bells chime and streetlights flicker, Ameilia Baltimore lives a life of rules, faith, and expectation. Raised by strict Christian parents, she knows right from wrong... but temptation has a way of calling her name. One night. One party. One encounter.🔥 Enter Mateo Delgado-dangerous, wealthy, and feared. The Don of Spanish Town and Kingston, a man who takes what he wants. And right now? He wants her. 🖤 She's light. He's darkness. She prays. He sins. She's searching for freedom. He's ready to give her a taste of a world she's never known. But love isn't always pure, and the streets never sleep. Will Ameilia hold on to her faith, or will she fall for the thrill of the unknown? 💔⛓️ The Heart of a Church Girl-where love, danger, and passion collide. Are you ready for the ride?

"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.