By Meesha Mink
Good fortune IS the simplest REVENGE, AND LUSCIOUS WILL DO something TO SETTLE THE rating. . . within the new novel from the writer of genuine Wifeys: at the Grind, rapper Make$'s wifey, Harriet "Luscious" Jordan, unearths herself out within the chilly financially after Make$ is imprisoned for his function within the brutal rape of Luscious' pal and his company companion, Kaeyla "Goldie" Dennis--a faulty younger girl who as soon as ran a strip membership out of her house. yet Luscious is a chief hustler and shortly turns into a profitable social gathering promoter. there's relatively just one factor on Luscious' brain: destroying Goldie. Luscious hasn't ever forgiven Goldie for sound asleep with Make$ at the back of her again sooner than the rape, and she'll cease at not anything to precise revenge. but how a long way can Luscious cross in her blazing quest for payback with no destroying herself, too? genuine Wifeys: Get funds is the second one installment in a fierce and gritty new trilogy from some of the most bold voices in highway lit.
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Additional info for Real Wifeys: Get Money: An Urban Tale
Example text
What the fuck? I felt my stomach hurl at this bullshit. I made to stand up but Make$’s hand shot out to grab my wrist tight as hell and pull me back down. When one of them picked up a broken broom handle and snatched the skirt she wore up to probe between her legs, I tried to snatch the remote from Make$’s hand. ” He moved the remote out of my reach. ” The screen went black before Peaches’ crazy ass filled the screen again. “Bitch thought she could swerve on me in the club and that shit was a done dada?
I said, just short of snapping. As the words filled my ear, I went from feeling weak at the knees to being strengthened by anger. ” My heart pounded. I felt nauseous. I felt like crying. I was fucked up. Fucked all the way up. I dropped the phone. I was shaking all over like I couldn’t control myself as I stormed out of the bedroom and came marching down the hall like I was going to war. The sight of Make$ and his motherfucking mooching-ass minions howling with laughter without a care in the world just kicked shit up a hundred notches for me.
And then me. Make$’s eyes got big as shit as he held up his hands. “Yo, Luscious, shit ain’t even that serious. Put the fucking gun down,” he said, trying to sound calm. There wasn’t shit calming about a cheating man and an STD. He stepped closer to me. I extended my arm and tightened my grip on the gun as I turned it sideways. “Who you fucking, Ter-rence? ” I asked, a tear that wasn’t near as lonely as I felt racing down my cheek. “Man, Luscious, if I gave you—” I made a dum-dum face. “If? If?