"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. But love in Harlem always asks one question: what are you willing to risk when the heart wants more than the streets ever offered? A Harlem story. A hood love. A soft place to land. ❀ 🝳 ❀

"Mani, you really my peace." ❀*̥˚───❀*̥˚ Imani don't do rappers. Not when attention come before intention, and every smile hide a secret. But when a late night studio session her best friend forces her to go to, puts her in the path of Messiah James, a rising star with a quiet demeanor and a dangerous smile? She starts breakin' all her own rules. Cause sometimes, the one you run from is the one sent to heal you. And ain't nothin' louder than a man who love quiet and choose you soft. She swore she wouldn't fall. He say she ain't gotta, cause she already his.

"Why you always look so serious after church." Roman asked, his eyes low . "You just spent two hours talkin to God." Serene adjusts the strap of her bag, looking around to make sure no one saw them. "You shouldn't even be back here." He smiled at that. "You always say that shit." "I mean it," she said, but her voice was softer than she wanted it to be. Roman stepped close enough so she could smell the weed on him. "You mean it every Sunday, church girl." Her cheeks heated up from the slight embarrassment of him calling her that. "Don't call me that." He tilted his head. "Why not? That's what you are." "I'm not just that," she said a little defensive and unsure; she didn't know what she was, but she didn't want a boy she thinks is cute to think of her as just the quiet preachers daughter who was a square. His smile faded as his eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. "I know." Then, after a beat, "That's why I like you." Serene swallowed and her fingers tightened around her bible. "You shouldn't." "I know," licked his lips, his eyes dropping to her hands before trailing back to her face. "But here we are." ㅤꨄ︎ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ, ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴡ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ -Mariah the Scientist

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Nour Delour doesn't chase men. She manufactures them. Shapes their desire with oils, honey, blood, and flame. In her Harlem candle boutique, every scent has a spell, every wick a whisper of old Southern rootwork passed down from women who knew how to make love feel like a fever. So when Rajah Thomas━the ex who ghosted her, walks by her shop window with his new girl on his arm, Nour doesn't cry. She gets even. She carves his name into wax, mixes it with her own essence, then lights the candle her grandmother warned her never to use: the 𝗪𝗮𝘅 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁. It doesn't just draw Rajah back━it 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘴 him. And this time, he returns with wet eyes, trembling hands, and a craving he can't explain. He's starving for her aroma, her skin, her darkness. He says her name like a prayer. Cries when she lets him taste her. Tells her he'll never leave again. But obsession has a cost, and magic always demands balance. As the flame burns lower, Rajah unravels. He starts sleeping outside her door. Sobbing when she doesn't answer. Losing jobs, friends, time. As for Nour? She's not untouched. She's sweating through her sheets. Moaning his name in her sleep. Bleeding from places that shouldn't bleed. The spell has tethered them by more than lust━it's welded their souls into something unnatural, and if she tries to break it, 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩. Still, there's a part of her━the part that wanted this━that isn't ready to let go. Because this love? It's not soft. It's not safe. It's 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆. 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄. @GLOSSNEILES ON THE COVER ART.

She rules the city with her mouth stained red and her hands clean of mercy. Seraphine rouge isn't a legend, but a law. An immortal vampire queen who feeds in velvet-lined rooms, seals contracts in blood, and decides who lives long enough to beg. Nightclubs are her altars. Red envelopes are her verdicts. If you receive one, your fate has already been chosen. She does not give her body without taking something in return. But there was always someone who disobeyed. Kingston Blackwell, a human kingpin with a drug empire, dirty money, and a hunger that rattles her more than the smell of blood. Kingston is violent, obsessive, and dangerously unafraid. Their connection is toxic and consuming; he wants to own her, and she wants to ruin him. And then there is Lucian Fox. The enemy's son. The forbidden love. His desire for her is quieter, deadlier, and written in prophecy sealed in blood magic rituals that feel far too intimate. Loving him could start a war, and his touch could end the world. As witches betray, demons collect their debts, bodies pile up, and the city begins to bleed. Seraphine is forced to confront the one thing no crown can protect them from. Because power is intoxicating, love is weakness, and the queen who lets herself burn, everything she rules with her. This is not a love story. This is a story about obsession, dominance, and the cost of sitting on a throne soaked in blood.

Two guarded souls who recognize the ache in each other, trying not to fall too hard but drawn together anyway. Their love simmers beneath the surface-fierce, quiet, and complicated. He's her storm in silence; she's his peace in chaos *Unedited 𝑷𝑼𝑹𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑨𝑰𝑵 _® Started: 12/13/22 Published: 12/23/22 End: 12/29/23

He leaned back, looking at her face again before his fingers slid under her chin, lifting it so she had no choice but to meet his eyes. "You love me." He said, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "& that's the most reckless thing you could've ever done." His grip tightened slightly under her jaw, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind her that he could. His thumb grazed her jaw, slower this time, respectful. "Love doesn't make me weak, baby. It makes me more dangerous. Because I love you back, meaning I now have something to lose." He leaned in until his lips hovered just above hers, their breath mingling. "& I don't like that. Not having shit to lose is what kept me untouchable, now I got a weakness & now we gotta die holding hands because you ain't doing this shit without me & I ain't doing it without you. So, Naytiri, you sure you wanna bleed for me?"

"Do you think we're soul mates?" She asked, lifting her head in order to lock eyes with him. It took him a moment, mustering up his answer. Thinking about how they were so alike, but so different. How they had been through similar things and had the same outlooks on certain perspectives in life. The connection that they shared. It was like she was made specifically for him. No one would ever be able to hold a candle to her and the way she made him feel. She was his person, and he was hers. "To be honest...yeah." He replied, wrapping his arm around her. --- Knucks is a misunderstood teenage girl, deemed as destructive to the society with her reoccurring outbursts and rebellious behavior. Anger fuels her defiant spirit but beneath her exterior, lies a vulnerable girl searching high and low for someone to help her through a time of crisis. Bones quiet and reserved, has nothing but a hard exterior looking from the outside in, when in reality he is just an innocent boy. He's fighting to keep his head above the water also known as life, that is trying its hardest to submerge and break him down mentally. When the two teenagers find themselves in an environment far away from home with others just like them, it leaves both of them separately hopeless about the outcomes of their future lives. One night upon meeting each other, one felt as if they had nothing to live for anymore, while the other felt the same way only holding a different meaning a sense.The night bringing them closer than ever eventually has to come to an end. It's up to the two of them to carry out the strange but alluring connection made with each other, or leave it in the night they met. SLOW BURN; 2 books in 1 STARTED; FEB 19th 2024 PUBLISHED; MARCH 3rd 2024 FINISHED; SEPTEMBER 29th, 2024

This game doesn't come with rules , you gotta set your owns rules and abide by them. Your love life and work is two different things. Never mix business with pleasure. 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐘𝐎𝐍 , age 31 as he's a former drug dealer who goes by the name " Method Man " on the streets. No one ever addresses him as Lorenzo. If so that's either the feds and that's a bad image. Lorenzo owns multiple night clubs , along with a Restaurant called Lyons Grill. You can't just sit with drug money. You gotta move and invest. Lorenzo didn't have any love interest , his love interest was money , seeing more money hit his account. Lorenzo owned his town , he knew when people made it into his down 5 minutes after. When he was informed that a female by the name of MONIQUE ANTOINETT KNIGHT came into town he wanted to know her every move. Olds friends reconnected , as they have different lives .. or do they? 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 , age 25 as she's a drug dealer as well.. but she hides her drug front by opening multiple business. One of her business consists of " Monique's Salon " and Knights Reality. Can two drug dealers fall in love ? Knowing they are at competition.

Trinity Smith has been starving for more out of her marriage to Meech. Three years in and she feels alone, untouched, and unsatisfied. Especially behind closed doors. The spark is gone, and no matter how hard she tries, it feels like she's begging for something that should come naturally. They try therapy, hoping it'll save them. For a minute, it looks like it might. Then Thanksgiving comes around...and everything spirals. That's when Trinity really meets Dayvon Bennett, Meech's close friend who's a father. What starts off subtle turns reckless fast, and before she knows it, Trinity is caught up in something messy, addictive, and completely off-limits.