[This is a spin-off of The DILF but can be read as a stand-alone] [The story you are about to read is intended for readers age 18+ due to its sexual content and language. It may not be appropriate for all audiences. Please read at your own discretion.] There was nothing Ophelia wanted better than to gouge Nikolai's long-lashed, consuming blue eyes out with a butter knife and mail them to the rest of the Alvonich family. Too bad they were in a very public, very esteemed place - Mikhail's wedding. "You don't think I'll press the button?" Nikolai's breath was warm and teasing in her ear. Ophelia had no idea what possessed her to take up his challenge of a vibrating thong, except that it was too late to back out now. She turned to glance at the infuriating man beside her. "Honestly, I don't care. It won't affect me." "Sweet Ophelia," he whispered, surprising her by flicking his tongue into her ear. Jumping, she glared at him, ignoring the important guests at her table, her father included. Before she could curse at Nikolai, he pressed the button, the swearwords turning to soft moans under her breath. Gripping the edge of the table, Ophelia felt the attack on her cl!t like a burn to her skin. Her father shot her a concerned look from across the table and Nikolai's voice was again in her ear. "Before the end of the night, Ophelia, we will f**k," he promised, releasing his finger from the remote control. "Only this time, it will be my name you scream."

Through the cracks in the streets, she found her way and landed into a Thug's arms. The name's Kharter. Kharter Raie Jackson age 20, originating from the place of Compton, and everywhere she turns she finds no comfort or relief. She's been to hell and back and all she needs is somebody to show her that she's not what people says she is. Trying to make the best life she knows how for her daughters she longs to get out of the hood to become a neurologist. She 's on her own and in need of a savior, though she ever never seems to admit it. And that's where Rashad "Slim" Hunter comes in, a regular trap King whose only ambition is to be rich, richer than he already is. He's far deeper than he appears to Kharter, but she just can't see beyond his baggy jeans ,hefty golden chains and crooked smile. While Rashad soon concludes that Kharter is a Gangster's Paradise. Inspired by a conversation, real life situations and everyday devastation. Dedicated to my Love.

The son of a Navy official, Mitchell Hollister has now enrolled into Annapolis' Naval Academy himself...will he be able to stick to the "destined script" that others have envisioned for him, or will he follow his heart and pursue his "taboo-esque" relationship with his once longtime friend and obsession, budding collegiate artist Jassandra Mills? Will their racially curious union survive what life has in store for them?

THIS STORY IS CURRENTLY BEING EDITED. . . MIND YOURSELF. Nathanial King moved to Savoie, Louisiana to deal with his broken heart. He needed closure. With all the resources at his feet, he knew that building the pol-dunk town into something respectable would be easier than breathing. In and out no big deal...than he saw her across the way and decided right than and there that he would lay roots and build something with her. Convinced that he dreamed her up, the CEO of King Industries set out to claim what is right fully his. {interracial romance with black woman, white man} This story will be told through Nathanial King's point of view. WARNING THIS STORY INVOLVES ADULT SITUATIONS. [Savoie, Louisiana is a fictional town in Northern Louisiana.]