Remember that regular degular 21-year-old who had it all figured out? Well, surprise! Back to 16 we go, where teenage chaos reigns supreme and I'm just your average girl, in an alternate world as St. Hugh's pride and joy and head girl extraordinate. Then bam! Nickoi Jacobs happened. The notorious bad boy 'Prezzi' and track star from Kingston College. Speeding tickets? Check. Gang banging? Check. Fast life? Check. Heartbreaker? Double check. How did I end up tripping over him in my perfectly planned world? Again... Bwoy, look like we mek fi each other. Nickoi is trouble with a capital T, the epitome of a walking red flag. But that smile? Sends my heart on a math vacation every single time! He's got more baggage than an airport carousel, and yet, there's this pull between us, breaking every rule I've ever known. What's a girl to do when Mr. Wrong feels so right? Hmm, well dive into the drama because with Nickoi, logic's on vacation and my heart's along for the ride. When it comes to him, Life's anything but predictable. So strap in, folks. Yuh think you see nutt'n yet? Think again. Ready for the twists and turns of "Not My Type 3 the Alternate World"? Because I am! I think?

She arrives in the city, believing distance could keep her untouched. He arrived unconscious, his future already alternated. What connects them is never named, or felt formed in silence, restraint, and moments that were never supposed to happen. This is a story about loss, proximity, and what happens when feelings become unavoidable. © 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟨 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐈

Italia Reimagined Trapped in a toxic marriage, Italia finds unexpected love and healing in the arms of Dyani-a man who shows her what real protection feels like. But as passion and danger collide, she must fight for her future, her daughter, and the freedom to start over. Set in Montego Bay, this is a gripping tale of survival, love, and second chances.

" 𝘔𝘪 𝘯𝘶𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘪 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘮 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘪 𝘶𝘱 - 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘪 𝘸𝘪 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘶𝘯𝘨 "

A JAMAICAN DYSTOPIAN ROMANCE: It's the year 2301 in Jamaica. Yeah you read that right. But what happens when all the roles have switched? When women are the leaders? When the standard of beauty is onyx dark skin and kinky hair? When that same standard determines your societal class? When tiny technological assistants can speak and feel what you feel? Or when the daughter of the High Command Ruler finds herself more than in love with the leader of 'the resistance'? Wish me coulda tell yuh lol, but yahfi just read it.

He turned a church girl into his personal freak.

I'm starting to wonder if I'm the problem? There is no way i attract this naturally...I should've listened when my mother told me to stay away from boys...especially the ones like these. ★ A typical Jamaican highschool relationship or so they thought...follow Tansaneé 'Hennessy' and Xavier on their journey. Through love, loss, infidelity and betrayals...what's in store for the young lovers? ★

The Hairstylist and the Don "I want you to come one hour earlier than we agreed," his cilent said "Why?" he asked "You know why," she said and he looked at the phone. He made a face and looked away. Den a wah she show him "I already told you I'm saving myself for marriage," he said A wah pop Wah him just say

"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.