I just wanted to send a quick update on my books.

I’m amazed at the continued interest in my urban books, even though I admit that I haven’t been 100% focusing on pushing them out there like I should. I get a couple of emails a day–I miss you guys so much.

Thugs are for Fun 3 got rave reviews and sold out quickly. I was nervous about that one because it’s always hard to end a story. But thank God it was a hit. Don’t worry, more of everything, including Thugs 3, will be available soon if your bookstore is showing as “out of stock” right now.

I can’t say for sure when I will have a new book out. I have about 1/2 of Cap’n Save a Bro finished and I want to do a Karma 2 badly.  I have so many projects (urban books related and other) going on right now though I can’t really commit to a date for either just yet, but I will update you for 2010.

Take care of yourself, love God, and do your thing. Stay grounded and realistic but don’t let anyone discourage you from pursuing your dreams.

Love J.Gail

http://www.hoturbanbooks.com

Thugs are for Fun 3 Urban Book

J.Gail’s Urban Books blog

Today the “powers that be” officially announced that we are in a recession (as if we didn’t know already!) Many retailers and agencies have chosen to INCREASE their prices as if this will help the situation — even the friggin New Jersey Turnpike has raise their tolls drastically, by like 40% !! Now that will directly affect my behind since I’m always running back and forth between NY and Philly. Geez, can we get a break please??

So I’m going the opposite way with the prices on my urban books. From now until next year I am selling my catalog of street books including the Thugs are for Fun series, Karma’s a Bitch, and Stop Looking at Me! for just $8.50 (deal excludes Thugs 3). That’s nearly half off the retail! Even less than what they charge on the street for urban books.

These discounted street books make a perfect gift for the urban book lovers in your family. Don’t bother looking elsewhere — you’re not going to find a better deal anywhere on Jazoli and Truth Hurts urban books.
Visit http://www.jazolipublishing.com/urbanbooks.html for more information about the urban books that are on sale. And hold your head people, we have been here before. Happy Holidays!!!

- J.

For a limited time on JazoliPublishing.com get a copy of J.Gail’s Stop Looking at Me! for just $5 when you purchase at least 1 other title at the regularly listed price from http://www.JazoliPublishing.com

STOP LOOKING AT ME! by J.Gail

Buy this book for just $5 with the purchase of another title!

* Only available at www.JazoliPublishing.com

READ AN EXCERPT HERE

Click here for more info

Click Here.
for an Autographed Book.

Urban Books on Amazon.com

New site launched for urban books by J.Gail !

http://www.hoturbanbooks.com !

More hot urban books to come….

You can also order these urban books at Amazon.com

Thugs are for Fun 3 - Urban Books

Urban Books category. Also Urban Fiction and Street Fiction. The first two covers will also look the same or similar, and the title Thugs Ain’t No Fun At All will change to Thugs are for Fun 2.

This book can be found under the Urban Books category of your favorite online book store. Also look under Urban Fiction, African American Fiction and Street Fiction.

This is the final excerpt to be posted on here before the book is released. Thugs are for Fun 3 will be available for advanced orders Mid-April (this month) and will be delivered to the limited pre-orders a month before it comes out officially in July 2008. Look for updates on the newsletter. Thank you guys, I will still post on here from time to time with info about new releases, writing, etc

Final Excerpt – Thugs are for Fun 3 by J.Gail

Pop! Pop!

Timbo stood in shock as one of the figures who had been standing across the street shot Tools twice—Tools dropped like a dummy doll. Timbo now saw the face of the guy who had shot off his gun clear as day. It was Coot, a young brother from North Philly who had just recently started staying down in West Philly. He was about 20. From what Timbo had been told, Coot was on the run for a murder/robbery. It was somebody who really mattered to the community. Timbo had talked to Coot a couple of times in passing but always kept it moving because he seemed a little “off.”

And he had just shot the shit out of Tools. Tools lay on the ground with a pool of blood starting to form around his chest. Coot returned his gun to the back of his jeans and nodded at Timbo as if to say “I got this.”

Timbo didn’t stick around to find out why, how, or what. He sobered up that quick and turned to head back towards his car. He had three or four warrants out in his name, he wasn’t about to be caught at a murder scene. To his surprise, Coot yelled after him, but he kept it moving, trying to play it cool. He didn’t see Cheryl’s head in her car, so he knocked on the window to see what had happened. She popped her head back up with a terrified look on her face. Timbo gestured for her to start her car, then jumped in his own car and motioned to Cheryl out the window to follow him. She did so without a second thought.

* * *

Timbo drove Cheryl to his house and led her to where she could park down the street and around the corner. His baby’s mother Yolanda had a habit of showing up unannounced when she was on one of her “missions,” so he didn’t want her knowing he had a new girl over there, especially not a girl like Cheryl. Yolanda knew every car on the block and would surely take a pipe to Cheryl’s car if he didn’t let her in.

Once Cheryl had her car parked, he leaned over and opened the passenger seat door for her to get in and drive her back to the house. When Cheryl got in the car she brought a light, airy aura with her that Timbo absolutely loved. He closed his eyes for a moment and took in the feeling.

“What happened back there?” Cheryl wasn’t smiling. She had half considered peeling off without Timbo when she heard the gunshots but was so scared that all she could do was duck down in her seat. Another part of her was extremely turned on by the danger of witnessing gun shots ringing out less than a block away. She hadn’t seen Tools get shot; she had only heard the noise.

Timbo broke out of his trance and looked over at Cheryl. Her eyeballs were wide as saucers. He reached out and caressed her hair to calm her down. As far as he was concerned, he didn’t know why Coot shot Tools, but Tools deserved what he got. He was dirty brother who was always messing with other peoples’ money. He probably owed Coot something. Good riddance. Timbo thought.

“Nothin’ baby, don’t worry about that shit,” he assured her and pulled around the corner.

Cheryl knew one thing for sure; something had happened. She had heard those gunshots clear as day. It was the first time she had heard them in person instead of on TV. But the way Timbo shrugged it off and told her to not to fret eased her mind. She felt that whatever had happened, he had it under control. After all, he was here wasn’t he? It must have been nothing for him, because he had already forgotten about it. He was probably around guns on a regular basis. She was growing more and more attracted to this man by the minute.

When they got to his door, Timbo quickly opened the front door and let her inside, scanning the street to make sure Yolanda was no where in sight. He came in behind her and threw on the light so that she could orient herself with the surroundings. She looked back at him strangely, wondering why he was scanning the street. Were the people who were shooting coming after him?? Should she get out of there? A new panic fell over her, but when she looked at Timbo looking calm and dangerous all at the same time as he tossed his keys on his mail table, she quickly relaxed again.

“Nice house,” Cheryl said smiling as she walked back towards a comfy leather couch she saw. Timbo’s house may have looked like a regular danky rowhouse on the outside, but he kept it looking nice inside. Timbo watched her hips sway from side to side as her heels clicked on his hardwood floors. She was definitely the best looking woman he had ever had in his house.

“You want somethin’ to drink? I got some Grey Goose… or some Henny.”

“I’ll just have some juice or something, I need to sober up a little,” Cheryl said with a nod as she made herself comfortable on the couch. She set her purse down and crossed her legs properly. Timbo watched her every move on his way to the kitchen.

While he was getting Cheryl some juice he remembered that she had warmed up to him when he was aggressive. That was probably what she wanted right now. Why else would she want to come to his house after midnight? Still, he was going to play this cool.

When he came back he handed her the dripping glass of juice and kicked off his shoes with his own glass of vodka and cranberry in hand. He took a big gulp and did what came naturally—laid his head in her lap.

They watched TV together for a while like that, and were temporarily distracted by an episode of Hell Date on BET. Where he lay was comfortable and relaxing him, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind.

“Tell me ‘bout your school,” Timbo started as he made himself more comfortable and flipped the channels.

Cheryl didn’t answer at first—she was too busy thinking nasty thoughts and sneaking glances at the bulge forming in his pants. She loved the feeling of his deep voice vibrating through her jeans. Her excitement was growing. “There isn’t really much to tell. School is hard, but I’m doing okay.”

“You said you was from Michigan right?”

“Ellisville Missouri, it’s near St. Louis,” she answered. “You were born and raised in Philly right?”

“Yup, my momma and my momma’s momma you know the rest. Probably since slavery, who knows,” Timbo said with a slight chuckle.

“Well you know, that’s not necessarily true. Most African American families migrated up north in the 20^th century from the South,” Cheryl suddenly felt the need to drop some knowledge. “Your people most probably came up here in the 20s or 30s. You should ask your grandmother.”

“Oh for real?” Timbo turned his head from the TV and looked Cheryl in the eye. “You into all that history shit huh?”

Cheryl laughed. “If you wanna call it that, yea. I’m thinking about a major in Afro-American studies.”

“That’s cool. Tell me more about that down south stuff.”

Timbo listened to Cheryl talk about slavery, black migration patterns, and the history of black Philadelphia. She seemed very passionate about the subject, and surprisingly enough to himself, he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. He was slowly falling in love with each word that flowed out of her perfectly glossed lips. Her breath smelled good and she handled herself very well even though she had just went through about five cocktails and three beers.

“You would be in the house or the field?” Timbo asked jokingly.

Cheryl laughed. “Well most people joke that only the light-skinned slaves were in the house, but that wasn’t always the case. The slave masters would choose based on their ‘favorites.’ Not necessarily on skin color.”

“Oh then, you most definitely would be in the house! Cause you already my favorite,” Timbo smirked.

Cheryl laughed. “Oh really.”

“Come here,” Timbo couldn’t wait any longer. Cheryl obeyed, still smiling, and lowered her face down to his lips. He quivered when he felt her lips touch his. They were plump, lickable, and delicious.

He sucked on her top lip as if it were a Jolly Rancher, and Cheryl felt a rush of fluids down below. She shoved her tongue down his throat and sent chills down Timbo’s back. All the “gentleman” left him right then. He sat up and turned around in the same motion, grabbing Cheryl by her hips to get her to lay down.

On top, he took full control as he kissed her hard on the lips. He pulled her shirt up over her head roughly, causing it to rip slightly, and ravished her on the couch. He sucked, licked, and kissed every inch of her body, paying plenty of attention to her fleshy, perfectly-sized breasts. Cheryl moaned and cooed, loving every moment.

“What do you want me to do?” Cheryl asked suddenly. “Tell me what you want me to do, I’ll do anything you want.”

Timbo was kissing her neck and unbuttoning her pants when she said that. He slowed down a bit. In response, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his jet black, rock hard manhood. Cheryl knew exactly what to do. She got on her knees next to the couch and went to work. Timbo’s eyes rolled up in his head as he moaned in pleasure.

That night they were doing it for so long in Timbo’s bedroom that the sun actually came up before they were done. Timbo was knocked out on his bed within a few minutes, and thought that Cheryl had done the same, but not so. She actually snuck out of the bed a few minutes later and did a search for her panties. She looked everywhere—by the couch, in the hall, under the bed, and in the sheets as much as she could without disturbing Timbo, but was unsuccessful. She left without making a sound.

Chapter 3

Amanda was tired, having rested a grand total of 8 hours over the past three days, due to her studies. She had decided to go back to school for her Masters degree in hopes of getting a promotion to a mid-management level position at her job paying a minimum of $70,000 a year. But she really liked the self-defense classes that Jacy had signed them both up for so she was willing to make this sacrifice. Later on she would be able to at least get a two hour nap in before starting her paper.

She threw her bag on an open chair and started stripping down to her workout clothes. As she tossed her sweatpants aside, she saw that the drop dead gorgeous instructor had entered the room. He looked like a cross between Boris Kudjoe and Drill Sergeant Harvey from Celebrity Fit Club.

“Hey Amanda, how are you,” he said smoothly as he started setting up his dummies and coordinating paperwork that he planned to give to each lady after class.

“Hi Todd,” Amanda almost swooned. She was shameless with her flirtation; even though she was going on three months in a relationship with a guy who she had met at school.

Todd was six foot three, 205 lbs of rock hard body, with a caramel complexion, and deep, brown piercing eyes that almost made you feel that you were being undressed with them. Amanda had to admit—he was a big reason why she came to this twice a week class despite her hectic schedule with work and school.

She daydreamed for a minute until she saw a few other people filing into the room. The class had a whopping 30 women—the maximum—and that was mostly due to the fact that the instructor was fine as hell. Right when the class was about to begin, Jacy ran in and threw her things in a corner.

“Hey Mandy!” Jacy said with a smile. Amanda returned the greeting and gave her friend a big hug. She was starting to become concerned about Jacy. Jacy constantly worried about Rich and his whereabouts when they weren’t together. She was starting to become one of “those married women.”

“Why are you always late girl,” Amanda teased as she and Jacy stretched a little. Then Todd’s commanding voice piped in.

“Hello Ladies, I think we are ready to begin today,” Todd said, letting his eyes rest comfortably on Jacy for a moment too long. She smiled innocently and tuned in. “Today we are going to talk a little about the use of aggressive devices to thwart an attack.”

Jacy had decided to take self-defense classes right after marrying Rich. She frequently had to be around less than desirable people on a regular basis—most of whom didn’t like her due to her relationship with Rich. Jealousy, resentment, and the unexpected all convinced her that this was a good move, just in case. While he thought it was unnecessary, Rich was fine with it. He had even taught her a few moves of his own to disable people even when you weren’t as strong as them.

Jacy convinced Amanda to come along because she lived alone in the heart of Philly, and the crime in her area was worsening. Amanda was thinking about moving to Lansdowne soon, but in the meantime she was learning how to protect herself.

“…I’m going to need a volunteer,” Todd said and scanned the room. Half of the women’s hands shot up, but he looked beyond them all and right at Jacy. “Jacy, I saw that you have mace on your keyring, can you come up here for a second?”

The women groaned as Jacy made her way to the front. They knew that being a volunteer almost assuredly meant being touched by the instructor. Most of the women were single and so desperate for the touch of a man that they went to extremes; even faking and pretending that they were having trouble with their moves.

Todd demonstrated the correct way to use mace on an attacker while the other women just stared at his abs, with definition that could clearly be seen even underneath his t-shirt. He put the mace in Jacy’s hand and guided her on how to mace the dummy, scream, and take off. The women burned with jealousy. Todd was always choosing Jacy to demonstrate things. She was definitely the teacher’s pet.

After class was over, and the ladies had their paper’s in hand, Jacy asked Amanda out for drinks but it was simply not happening.

“J, do you know how much I would love to go sit at Copas and drink a margarita? I have three papers due this week, and a 20 minute presentation due on Monday. I just can’t babe.”

Jacy sighed. “Okay. Damn, you are no fun ever since you started school! You know Rachelle never wants to do anything. Now that she has her new new new man.”

Rachelle had become a slightly better friend, but old habits die hard. She had been through five relationships in the past year alone. She was still on her quest to find “the one,” and ever since Jacy and Rich tied the knot she seemed even more fired up to find a man.

“I know, but would you rather me fail out of school and get stuck at $40,000 a year for the rest of my life! Then you will have to buy me drinks forever since on top of getting paid only $40,000 a year I will also have more student loan debt for going to a school I never even graduated from because I was busy out getting drinks!”

Jacy chuckled as they stood to leave, “Yea, when you put it that way. You are too dramatic though.”

“Hey Jacy, Amanda,” Todd said from behind them. “How are you guys doing, enjoying the class?”

“Oh yea, it’s great Todd. I’m going to kick someone’s ass as soon as I get out of here,” Amanda confirmed, smiling wide at Todd. They laughed.

“Just so you guys know, I’m available for private lessons if you ever have any problems with your moves,” Todd said, looking directly at Jacy again. Jacy was really starting to think he was crushing. She thought he was cute and all, but wasn’t about to have a dead self-defense instructor on her hands if Rich found out she was flirting with him. All those karate moves and such would do nothing versus Rich’s ca-razy ass. Rich knew Jacy was in the classes, but had no idea who was teaching them. Jacy kept that information under wraps and had actually told him a little white lie about her instructor being female. She didn’t say it outright, but had suggested it innocently in conversation. She did everything now to avoid a conversation about the classes and the guilt was killing her.

http://www.jazolipublishing.com

Entertaining Urban Books with a message.

I have been writing a lot lately but am a little behind my targets.

The book will be open for advance orders at the end of April 08, and is now scheduled for official release in July 08. Again, I love writing this story and I am going to miss it when it’s done. Here is a new excerpt (below). Timbo is getting himself into a lot of shit in this book:

This girl, Cheryl, looked like she had grown up in a well-off family. She went to UPenn, a school in the area, an Ivy league school at that. She had smooth brown skin, long luscious dark hair, her makeup was always flawless, and her nails were never undone. She was the type of girl that got everything she wanted—a black american princess for sure—and right now she wanted to go out with him. He was almost giddy at the thought. What would a girl like that want with him? He was eager to find out—maybe a little too eager.

Timbo had never dated anything but chickens and gutter trash. He had finally kicked his crackhead baby’s mother Yolanda out on the street a few months before, after she sold his $2,000 flat screen television to somebody for $80 and two hits.

This would be the first time he got the chance to date a girl with some sense and a decent upbringing. Cheryl might be his way out, the same as his best boy Rich had found with Jacy.

But here he was, $100 in his pocket and a high maintenance college chick waiting for him to buy her some drinks. She was bound to be one of those girls that drank apple martinis and grand marniers.

Timbo felt like people were playing him on the streets, now that Rich was no longer his running buddy. Rich had been his backup, his enforcer. Nobody played with Timbo’s money in the past because they knew Rich would be somewhere in the picture soon. It wasn’t just about muscle—people respected Rich and didn’t want to disappoint him.

As soon as Rich left the game, Timbo’s consignments started getting paid later and later, the young boys were treating him with disrespect and doing a good job of dodging him, and people were even having the nerve to ask for a better rate. Now, Timbo had so many people owing him money that he had lost track. He felt that he was going to have to do something drastic soon to send a message out on the streets that he wasn’t playing; something like popping somebody. But he didn’t feel like he had a good backing; the four or five dudes that he ran with on a regular basis didn’t have the balls or heart to deal with what he had planned.

Timbo had never had less than a G in his pocket at any given time. Most people would think $100 was plenty for a date, but Timbo liked to have enough to really ball. He was trying to impress this girl and throw some money around—how was he going to do that with less than a bean? His ‘wack’ was light like a mug! He was used to pulling out a tight wad of money on a first date—that was how real Philly ballers did it. He considered calling Cheryl up and making an excuse about having some business to handle. Then he could take her out at a time he had more cash.

But then Timbo thought of how her brown legs had looked in those tan khaki short shorts, with the high-heeled wooden sandals the first time he saw her walking down Walnut. She was fine as shit. That same girl was sitting in the bar waiting on him—there was no way he was letting that possibly slip through his fingers. Then he remembered that she was a college girl sitting alone in a bar full of sharks, and quickly pulled the lever on his car door.

With a vision of her legs planted firmly in his mind, he stepped out of the car with a smile on his lips. He was just going to have to make do money-wise.

Timbo took a moment to check himself in his car window. He had on a clean monogrammed black tee and a diamond “T” chain he bought down on Jeweler’s Row. He even shaved his normally rough beard down to something presentable. He didn’t look too shabby.

“Here we go,” he said after doing a tooth check. Timbo might not have been the best looking brother in West Philly, but one thing he prided himself on was good dental hygiene. He brushed his teeth about five times a day—in the morning, after every meal, and before he went to bed. It was an obsession for him that had paid off. He was going to let his pearly whites do most of the talking tonight.

He burrowed his eyebrows and strolled up to the front door of the sports bar. When he walked inside he looked around, trying not to seem eager. He didn’t see her yet.

“I thought she said she was already here,” he mumbled to himself as he sat down at the bar and pulled out his cellphone to check the text message again. Just as he was pressing some buttons he looked out of the corner of his eye and saw her coming out of the bathroom. His jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

She was wearing a simple white long sleeved shirt that was snug and showed off her round C cup breasts along with a pair of hip hugging jeans. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a curly style. He let his eyes travel down to the floor where he saw her perfectly pedicured toes peaking out of her Jimmy Choo open toed sandals.

“Hi,” she said as she slid onto the bar stool next to him, a radiant smile on her face. Her eyes were slightly slitted as if she had just been smoking some good weed. Timbo was extremely turned on at the thought that she might be down with a session.

“Sup,” he said with a cute smirk as he looked her up and down. It was a struggle to remove his vision from the sliver of skin visible on her back between her shirt and jeans when the bartender came over to take his order.

“Umm, let me get a Heiny,” he said and then turned back to Cheryl. “What you want baby?”

“I want another double shot of 3 Olives and cranberry,” she said directly to the bartender in a smooth velvety voice that made Timbo’s manhood stand at attention. She had a slight accent that he couldn’t make out just yet. He scooted his chair up closer to the bar. He wasn’t sure how to act around this girl; he didn’t want to come off as too ghetto and scare her away.

“You was waiting long?” he asked, trying to play off the fact that he was very impressed. He didn’t even need to look around—he knew every brother in that bar’s eyes were on them. A jealous thought flashed through his mind—what if he had left her alone in the bar too long? His mind swam with the possibility of her talking to some other dude in the bar before he arrived.

“Uhh, a little. But that’s alright I guess,” she said blankly as she took her drink and started sipping. Her smile had disappeared. Timbo started to worry that she wasn’t having a good time. He would have to turn on the charm somehow. Timbo had been shot at, stabbed, and gotten into so many fights that he lost count, but never had his heart beat so fast. There was so much at stake on this date. He had to have this woman.

“Aww fuck it. I ain’t even gonna try to play it off no more,” Timbo said as he turned and grabbed her stool to pull her close and straddle her. He pulled at his hat, a nervous habit of his. “You fine as shit. Damn slimmy. I ain’t even gonna lie.”

Cheryl finally giggled and Timbo was relieved to see that smile return. “You’re cute,” she said.

“Aw, that’s all? Just cute?” Timbo flashed a smile at her. “I put my best shit on for you girl. Damn. You got some pretty brown eyes.”

“Thank you,” Cheryl giggled again. She was loving the attention. She was the type of girl who needed to be complimented regularly. And she needed a man that could really take control. That’s what attracted her to Timbo in the first place—the fact that he came right up to her and asked for her number. It was something about his gangster swagger that turned her on and had her daydreaming the rest of the day they met about being alone with him.

“You don’t talk much do ya? You shy?” Timbo observed.

“Not really,” she said with a smile. But Timbo didn’t know which question she was answering.

“So what you doing out here in the ‘hood with me?” Timbo moved in closer to her to get a deeper whiff of her perfume. Now Cheryl’s heart was beating faster.

“Why, should I be concerned?” Cheryl asked with a smirk.

Timbo chuckled. “Naw, you ain’t got nothing to worry about babe. Not when you with me. Where you from?”

“Missouri.”

Timbo soon realized that Cheryl really was a woman of very little words, and quickly adjusted. That was fine with him. For all he cared, she could be completely silent and just look good all day. Now he knew where that accent was from.

His chest puffed out a little when he saw the level of attention and respect he was getting at the bar just by being seen with a woman of her caliber. Dudes he hadn’t said two words to for weeks were coming up to him to say “what’s up” and give him a pound. Timbo knew the only reason why they were doing that was to get a closer look at the new eye candy at the bar.

By the time Timbo and Cheryl left the bar they were both toasted. Just as Timbo thought, Cheryl’s drinks were expensive, but she only needed like three expensive drinks and a couple of beers to get tossed, so he was good. Her tongue loosened up a little more with each drink.

“Where do you live?” Cheryl asked him when they were both outside. Timbo was grasping onto her hand as if she could fly away at any moment. When he heard her question he had an adrenaline rush. He was definitely going to get some that night.

“Not far from here, like three blocks,” he turned to her and looked in her eyes.

“I want to come over,” she slurred, but was serious as a heart attack. “Can I just follow you?”

“Yea, yea. Hold up a sec though,” Timbo said as he spotted somebody he had been seeking out for weeks down the block. “Go in your car and lock ya door. I’ll be right back.”

Cheryl did as she was told, but not before glancing down the block in the direction where Timbo went. She locked her door and watched him in her rear view mirror. She involuntarily held onto her heart.

Timbo crept up in the darkness on Jimmy and Tools, who were standing around on the corner smoking a blunt. They were so high that they didn’t even realize who Timbo was at first.

“Aw, shit,” Tools mumbled to himself when he recognized the face. “Damn, you got any cash on you ock? You know I’ll get you back.”

“Whateva nigga, that’s yo problem,” Jimmy said in a low tone that matched Tools’, happy that for once it wasn’t him that owed somebody.

“Tools. What up nigga,” Timbo said with no smile. This was one of those times that he would have to put his foot down. Tools owed him over $500 at that point. Timbo glanced across the street and saw some other dudes who looked familiar watching his every move. Timbo offered out his hand to Tools to shake.

Tools took it and gave Timbo a hard manshake and chest bump. Tools’ mind was going a mile a minute.

“You know I been on ya tail Tools, so what the deal? You just gon’ dodge a nigga like dat? After all I did for you. That ain’t even right,” Timbo shook his head and now was grasping onto his gun like a cowboy.

“Naw, it ain’t even like that Tim, I was gonna yell at you,” Tools started shucking and jiving. “I just needed a lil more time, yah mean?”

Timbo turned his nose up at Tools, never taking his eyes off of him. “Now nigga, you know I ain’t even trynna hear all that noise. It’s been damn near three months! I want my got damn money. Ya’ll niggas trynna treat me like some kind of sucka cuz Rich ain’t here? That nigga will be here if I need ‘im. You gonna catch one regardless if he here or not, if you keep fuckin’ with my cash.”

Tools sucked his teeth and shuffled his feet nervously. “Aww, come on Timbo. I just need a couple weeks, three tops! Gimme that?”

Timbo licked his front teeth and glanced around him carefully. Jimmy started backing away from the scene because he could feel that this wasn’t going to end right. Tools got ready to take off himself. Just as Timbo pulled his gun out from his waist, Tools took off running across the street.

“Come back here, sorry ass muthafucka!” Timbo shouted. But Tools didn’t get very far.

Pop! Pop!

This book can be found under the Urban Books category of your favorite online book store. Also look under Urban Fiction, African American Fiction and Street Fiction.

Thugs are for Fun 3 Excerpt #2

He knew she loved it when he just “took” it. All he needed was a slight cue from her that she was interested, and it was on. He pushed her into the shower stall and shut it closed behind them. He knew that she was going to be pissed about getting her hair wet, but she would get over it after one good bang-out. He bent her over towards the back of the stall and told her to grab the ledge. She protested weakly, but did as she was told. He grabbed her ass tightly and rammed himself inside. Jacy shouted out, loud enough for the neighbors to hear if they were home. Rich pumped her full of his manhood for what seemed like an eternity for Jacy in that position just like she liked it—fast and hard. She shouted in pain for a few moments, but was soon in ecstasy once he found her spot. It was all good. She felt herself about to come, a phenomenon that had only started happening after they wed. Maybe it was the fact that she knew that she was in love with this man, and they had made it official—whatever it was Rich was rocking her world in the bedroom. He might have gone legit business-wise, but he was still all thug when it came to getting it in.

“Rich baby, I’m about to come. Oh yes baby, get that pussy!” Jacy talked dirty to him, making him weak.

When Rich felt her shaking and breaking out in fits of involuntary compulsions, he knew that she had come and went in as far as he could go before letting loose himself. He groaned in pleasure as he felt the contractions hitting him in waves.

“Oooo. Yes,” Rich exclaimed after they both became limp. He still held her up and stayed inside of her for as long as she would allow. He was desperate to get Jacy pregnant, even though he knew she was doubling up on birth control and never missed a day. She had even resisted letting go of condoms until he had to level with her.

“Okay Rich, come on, let me up,” Jacy finally said upon recovering from the wonderful feeling that had just shot through her limbs. “I know what you are trying to do, sucka. You ain’t foolin’ nobody.”

“What?” Rich played stupid as he let her up. Jacy turned around and came face to face with a devilish smirk. She pecked him on the lips.

“You know what. Rich, I’m not trying to get pregnant man,” Jacy said as she walked around him and started showering. “Give me like two years before thinking about that stuff.”

“Two years! Oh hell no,” Rich protested. “I want a baby this year.”

Jacy just ignored him and kept showering. She changed the subject instead.

“Look at what you did, now I have to take another two hours to dry my hair,” Jacy said playfully.

“Awww, don’t be complaining now. Here let me get your back.”

When Rich left the house after trying two more times to get another round in, Jacy sat down at her desk and waited for her hair to dry so that she could flat iron it. It was a good thing she had just had a fresh relaxer, or else she would have really been in trouble that day. Muffy sauntered up to where she was seated at her desk and meowed quietly to say that she wanted some love. Jacy moved back a little and let her beloved cat jump up on her lap for a petting session. She let Muffy stay there while she worked.

“Let’s see. I got an appointment at 12…I can push that back to one…” she spoke to herself, trying to get prepared for her day. “Oh crap, I forgot to call Jim back this morning.”

She picked up the phone hoping to get in touch with Jim, her new part-time partner. They went in on larger real estate deals in the Philadelphia area. She found the financing, he found the buyer and oversaw any contractor work. They had already overseen about seven successful closings, so she didn’t hesitate to jump on an opportunity when he called. He had left a message for her the evening before concerning a property in the Northern Liberties that was selling for dirt cheap considering the area. They would need to have it fixed up with an investment of about $7,500. That was definitely doable.

By that time Jacy was wheeling and dealing in Philly real estate. She made modest profits off of each deal that left her with a yearly salary of about $65,000—almost twice what she was making at her old job at Summit Financial. Rich saw what she was doing, and was planning on making an investment in her business that year that would double her profits. If she kept rolling with Jim she would surely see at least a 25% increase in her bottomline.

Jim wasn’t answering, so she just left him a message. Jacy was surprised that Rich didn’t have a problem with the 31-year-old Jim working with his woman, but she guessed it was because Jim wasn’t attractive in the least. He was skinny and crackish looking with bad blotchy brown skin, despite the fact that he ate well and made plenty of money. He was super smart and had a great eye for a money-making property. Rich had met Jim, spoke with him man to man, and let him know without even having to say a word that he had better stay in his place with Jacy. Jim kept all of his conversations with Jacy 100% professional after that, without so much as a “what a nice day it is!” when they spoke.

Jacy called and moved back her 12 o’clock appointment with a real estate agent looking to unload a “fixer-upper,” then updated her pipeline. She decided that after her one o’clock meeting she would go check on the progress of a property down in South Philly that she was working on solo. She had finally assembled a fix-up team that she could depend on a majority of the time. They showed up at the properties to work when they said they would, maybe an hour or so late, but they showed nonetheless, and they did decent work. They never gave her any surprises on her invoices unless it was something that absolutely couldn’t be avoided, such as a wall buckling, and they would give her the respect of a phone call before doing anything about it.

Recently, Jacy had been getting industry information that there were potential problems in the real estate industry that could cause a problem for investors like herself. She was putting her money up for a rainy day, and looking into other investments. The money Rich made from his store at that point was enough to cover all of their bills and then some. She wasn’t worried—just very thankful that she had gained a partner in life to deal with any hard times that could come. She had never had that type of security or a fallback plan before.

Jacy went to find her ceramic flat iron to fix her hair before leaving the house, and set out a nice casual outfit of peddle pusher jeans, a long blouse, and high-heeled sandals for the day. Jacy always wore a long shirt to cover her behind on a day she was going to see her contractors. They were still men after all.

When she stepped outside she breathed in the warm, clean air of Upper Darby and chirped her car. The good old Mitsubishi Eclipse was still right there. Rich had tried to get her to trade it in for a bigger and “better” model—like the new Navigator Rich had bought for himself—but Jacy refused. She just fixed her baby up and made it run like it just came off the assembly line. That car had been down with her since her college days—she wasn’t about to abandon it for some new shit.

Just as she settled into the driver’s seat her cellphone started going off and she hoped it was Jim. She wanted to get this next deal with him started right away.

“Hey Jim!” she sang, happy that she could get one thing off of her list for the day.

“Hey what’s up Jacy, I just got your message. I got a big one on my list of things to do, and I wanted to see if you want to get in on it,” he said, sounding clear as day. Jacy figured that he must have been in his office.

“You know I do, tell me about it,” Jacy said as she pulled out of her driveway one-handed.

“Well, it’s down on Brown and 7^th, prime location. You know with the gentrification going on down there. They’re asking 100K, but I’m telling you, we fix it up and this property could go for 200 easy.”

“What? Why are they selling it so cheap then? It’s got to be something really wrong with it?”

“Not really. Like I said, I saw about seven or ten thousand in repairs. It’s probably just the area, it’s still changing. Still a pretty rough area but there a lot of new people moving in. We may have to hold onto it for a few months.”

“Okay. Well, when can I come see it?” Jacy wanted to know. Her ears had perked at the possibility of a 100K profit. She usually didn’t see deals with that kind of profit potential.

“Today. Can you meet me down there at like 5?”

“Uhhh. Yea, I guess. I have a lot going on today. I have my self-defense class at seven. I will call you when I’m nearby.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

Jacy started dancing in her seat when she hung up the phone. She saw dollar signs that could allow her to relax for months before jumping on another deal. She couldn’t wait to tell Rich when he got home.

Chapter 2

Timbo turned his car sharply onto Market Street. He had to maneuver around the construction under the El train tracks that had still sat unfinished since they began over five years before. He pulled into a spot as close to the sports bar on 56^th street as he could get. The front of his car grille almost grazed the construction fence.

He leaned forward to turn off the car and then sat back, stone silent for a few moments. He thought about the fact that he barely had $100 in his pocket at that moment, and was about to meet with this fine new college honey he had met in passing for a date at the bar. She was probably inside waiting for him.

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