Spillage - "You'll See When I Get There."

It has been a long time coming. I know. It is almost June and I have yet to release a book this year. Forgive me. However, I must warn you that you haven't been waiting in vain. While I am still having difficulty finishing up some other projects that I promised you guys, I have, here, something fresh and new! 


Here's what you need to know about this sneak peek & my upcoming title:

  • It is my reentry to the Urban Fiction genre, and I'm excited about it.
  • This is book one of a SERIES.
  • This book is a CLASSIC!
  • This sneak peek is UNEDITED.
  • This sneak peek is subject to change.
  • There's no release date.
  • The title will be revealed with the cover. 
  • There is a playlist dedicated to this book. Click HERE to listen. 


Life without love was conventional for Sosa Law, a prominent figure and primal source for the cities drug supply. The lack of attachments to anything other than the money that he liked to spend, unapologetically, assisted him in reaching his pinnacle. Women were a commodity that he indulged in frequently, but never stayed too long or afforded them with too much attention. 

With an empire under his fingertips, his money and time are valued more than any aspect of his hectic life. The lone night that fate led him to the shared location with lowered lids and an elevated state due to the influence of marijuana, his perspective on the forbidden emotion begins to decompose. 

Gauge Morrison is simply looking for her forever, impatiently waiting for Mr. Right to show face. She’s got his occupation, demeanor and beliefs figured out in the pretty little head of hers. Yet, she never expected her knight to wear red religiously, find comfort in his lonesome, avoid attachment, run a lucrative drug empire, tote a gun or two and is one willing to risk anything for both his freedom and paper. She hadn’t imagined him being so lawless. She hadn’t fathomed he’d be Sosa Law. 

Happiness is accompanied with pain and joy is the next of kin to sorrow. The venture to acquiring love for Sosa and Gauge is unmatched, undeniable and unlawful. Gauge is forced to accommodate Sosa’s ruthlessness - as it begins to affect her personal life - while Sosa questions her loyalty and everything they are trying to obtain.

Sosa & gauge .jpg



Unknown: Your friends are checking for you in the lil group shit you put me in.

What do they want? The other conversations were muted, so the notifications weren’t coming through. I could imagine what was being said about me amongst those two.

Unknown: To know how your date went.

I got stood up. There was no need to dwell on the situation. He could relay the message and I’d follow up with my girls in the morning. I wanted to return to my bedroom and prepare for bed.

There was a lengthy pause. The grey bubble appearing and then disappearing. Unknowingly, I’d held my breath until his message came through. I considered shutting down the entire thread between us, but the rejection I had received earlier caused his attention to be a bit more appealing.


Unknown: You still dressed?

Yeah. Shit, what more did I have to lose. My pride had already been bruised enough for the night.

Unknown: Share ya location. I’m on my way.

Share my location? I don’t even know you. He couldn’t have been serious. I mean, he was a complete stranger that I’d misdialed. Wanting my location was a bit intrusive.

Unknown: Did you know the motherfucker that stood you up, tonight?

No. Well, he had a point. I hadn’t known Tyler long. Possibly four days, give or take a few hours.

Unknown: Location, then.

Where are we going? Since he was demanding answers, I needed some of my own. In addition to sharing my location, I requested it.

Unknown: You’ll see when we get there. Rude. The arrogance attached to street niggas was sexy as shit, but I begged the difference, tonight. Tonight, I needed straight answers.

There isn’t much open this late. Maybe we can reschedule.

Hello? His responses had discontinued. No grey bubble. Nothing.

Can I at least have your name? I tried a gentler approach to get him talking, again.

Unknown: Sosa. Damn. Sosa.

Sosa, where are you taking me?  

I waited, inevitably, for a response that would never come. Upon realizing this, I scurried to our group message in order to review the photo he’d sent. My friends had a slew of messages within the thread that made me groan in agony. I could only imagine how frustrated he was with the constant notifications.

“Sosa.” I repeated.

In all honesty, I loved the name. It was becoming of him. The deep dark brown skin, rugged yet splendid appearance and the overall bad boy demeanor he possessed were all conclusive in his simple and unique title. He looked like a Sosa, or to me at least.

Immediately, I exited the messages and accessed my social media folder. Instagram was the first to receive my attention. I typed his name in variations to see if I’d stumble across his account, but I came up empty-handed. The same was for Facebook, Snapchat and Twitter as well.

I chalked it up to him being a bit clever with his user ID and made a mental note to ask him about his social media handles before the night ended. It wasn’t that I cared to keep up with him. It was simply because I wanted to know all that I could about him. Social media said a lot about people these days, whether true or false.

Time had gotten away from me as I attempted to investigate this intriguing being. The knock on my door startled me and brought me back to reality. Suddenly, nerves that my body had been absent of began sprouting and causing for clammy hands. Sure not to ruin my dress, I opted to wipe my sweaty palms on the end of my couch before checking myself out in the mirror. There was a second knock, prompting me to lose the bashfulness I’d encountered in the last few seconds and not keep him waiting any longer.

Goddamn. I nearly closed the door in his face. A man this fine was nothing but trouble. Quickly, I came to the conclusion that red must’ve been his favorite color, because he was draped in it, tonight, as well. And the fit that he wore before me wasn’t in resemblance to the one in the photo he had send. I’d studied it like an exam the night before testing.

“You chose burgundy, huh?”

The fact that he was standing on my porch instead of honking the horn or texting me to let me know that he was outside spoke volumes. I’d heard what Sosa had said, but the immense pressure I felt in his presence kept me quiet, and staring back with the possibility of looking like a damn fool. Smitten, my sight trailed from the top of his head to the sole of his feet.

Sosa was wearing a red v-neck, simple as hell but he made it look three times as exclusive. He’d probably gotten it from the corner market in the hood, but one would think it came straight from the runway. His denim didn’t hug his ass and neither did they sag. The belt around his waist wasn’t for show, but was actually doing its job by maintaining the weight of his pants and keeping them from falling.

The red designer sneakers stretched for quite a bit, causing me to wonder if he was a member of the hood wood tribe – a tribe that my friends and I had made up full of men from the hood who were slanging serious wood. Jewelry clung to his body – neck, both wrists, one ear and his teeth – lighting the darkness that consumed us. I was a lengthy girl, standing a proud 5’7 without heels. Yet, this nigga seemed to have an entire foot on me. In my heels, I was barely shoulder length.

“You finished?”

“Excuse me.”

“Your examination.” He replied, feet gapped and legs spread. He is definitely apart of the hood wood tribe. My mind was completely in the gutter.

“I’m sorry.” Panic stricken, I stepped onto the porch and turned to lock the door. “So rude of me.”

His silence was vexatious. I hardly wanted to return to him, because I was sure he was checking me out, now. Double standard, I know. It was completely okay for me to fuck him with my eyes but I was haunted at the thought of him doing the same. I’d have to get better at that, but tonight wouldn’t be the night.    

“Uh.” Of course his eyes were wandering.


Sosa stepped forward and had no intentions of halting until my back was against my front door and his body was pressed up against mine. In no way did I feel threatened, which was highly unlikely for me. As an assault survivor, I was leery about men and their closeness. It always rubbed me the wrong way and caused anxiety to rise in my chest.

My breath somehow got lodged in my throat after inhaling his intoxicating scent. While I’d expected to smell something delectable on his frame, I was addressed by the boisterous scent of marijuana and jolly rancher. His stained blue tongue – that I watched with intent as he spoke – was evidence that he’d been eating jolly ranchers to remove the fogginess and funkiness from his breath that weed tended to leave behind.

“Before we leave this porch, I need you to drop that shy shit. I’m just some ole hood nigga. Ain’t shit to be conflicted, confused or questioned. I’m just here to make your night right after a fuck nigga nearly sent you to bed with a frown. No pressure. No expectations.”

Sighing, I nodded in understanding. Thankfully, he eased back a bit, giving me the space to process the limp dick that I’d felt on my leg. That thing was the size of one of the healthy cucumbers that I preferred from the grocery store. Imagining it erect was too much for my little mine to digest, so I didn’t.

“You look beautiful by the way.”

“I like your teeth.” I retorted before closing my eyes and chastising myself. That was…

“So fucking lame, baby girl. But I like that.” He completed my thought.

“Where… Where are we going?”

“Nothing has changed. You’ll see when we get there.”

Underneath the porch light, I could see the haze in his eyes. They were low enough to connect with one another, which made me wonder how he could even see –or function. Concluding his statement, he smiled and nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. His fangs were covered in diamonds while the rest of his pearly white teeth were only outlined with silver –or platinum seemed more suiting for a man of his caliber.

“Open faces.” He spoke, extending his arm and insisting that I lead the way.

“Pardon me?”

“My teeth. They’re called open faces.”


He was behind me, keeping a short distance as I walked down the small path that led from my home into my driveway. I was renting a two-bedroom home simply because it was cheaper than any apartment that I had applied for three years ago when a sophomore in college. It was apparent that the campus life didn’t agree with me, but I didn’t want to break myself trying to afford housing. Instead, I chose rent that my refund check would cover at least three-fourths of and paid the remainder with my checks from work every month.

Assuming he wasn’t paying much attention to my feet because his eyes were occupied with my ass, Sosa ran into the back of me after I’d stopped mid-stride. Confusion was evident on my face as I turned around to question his logic. The outdated Honda Accord sitting in my driveway couldn’t have belonged to the man that was just standing on my porch. Even in the photo he had sent, there was a large B on the grill of the car he was standing in front of.

I prayed this wasn’t a situation where a young man was flaunting shit that wasn’t his own. It was the last thing I wanted to confront or had the time to deal with. I wasn’t opposed to dating middle-class men, but lower-class was pushing the perimeter. Personally, I was a decent enough woman in decent standing and could afford to chose who I gave my time to.

“Sosa, it is?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood off to the side wondering what my next few words would entail. His wait wasn’t enduring or in vain, because I spat them out swiftly.

“Is this the car that will take us to the real car?” I had to know. “Because…”

“What’s your name, baby girl? I never got it.”

The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. He hadn’t taken my name. “Gauge.” I replied, shifting my weight and becoming frustrated.

“Gauge. I can fuck with that.” He nodded.

“I asked a question.” Firmly, I stated, not caring for the delay I was receiving.

“And I plan to give you an answer when I’m ready.” He emphasized by shrugging.

The stare off commenced, me not budging and him not giving a flying shit about my sudden displeasure. It felt as if an eternity had elapsed before his lips parted and his baritone reached my eardrums.

“I’m that nigga whether I’m in a Bentley or a bucket.” He confirmed my suspicions. I was immediately relieved that I hadn’t overestimated his financial status because I would’ve been pissed at myself. I’d always been good at these types of things.

“Flossing isn’t the only evidence of wealth, G.”

G? I wanted to correct him, but the letter sounded so good rolling from his lips that I simply rolled with it. Without a response, I twirled on my heels and continued. He was right. Once I’d reached the car, I extended my hand to open the door but was startled by his warning.

“Nothing will get you sent back in the house to think about your actions quicker than trying to put me out of a job. If I can’t at least open your door, then what am I good for?”

“You don’t have to…”

“My mother has turned over in her grave over enough shit I’ve done. I’m sure she’s trying to rest right now. My wish isn’t to disturb her, tonight.” Sosa leaned forward and opened the door to the car and watched me slide in.

“You good?” he questioned, standing outside of the car and looking down at me.

“I’m sorry.” Sympathetically, I responded with a saddened look displayed across my face.

“For what?”

“Your mother.”

“Shit. I’m sure the dirt treating her better than this shitty as world ever could.”

With that, he slammed the door and walked around to the driver side. I expected us to pull off immediately, but we continued to wait outside of my house after he’d started the engine of the car. At the sight of him slicing the gold foiled wrap with a small box cutter, I knew why the wait was necessary. He needed to roll himself another blunt.

The thought of my hair smelling like a pound of weed occurred and I wanted to scream. I’d just shampooed my hair and wouldn’t be needing another shampoo for at least a wee under normal circumstances. However, with Mr. Sosa firing up in a few, the task would need to be tackled the following day.

“G.” He started. “I’m about to tell you some shit that’ll probably upset you, but you’ll be aight.”

“Should I ask for you to tell me what it is or are you…”

“I’m going to tell you anyway.” He tapped the grinder and distributed the orange hired marijuana buds across the paper.


“Where we’re headed, you may want to slip on something more comfortable. I don’t have fancy reservations or nothing like that. I’m just winging it.”

“What?” I heard him, but I was being sure that I’d heard him correctly.

“Go change, G.” he placed the blunt to his mouth. “Throw on some jeans or something. Shit, I don’t know.”

“You didn’t think it would’ve been appropriate to tell me this before you pulled up or even when I stepped out of my door.”

“I’m a man, baby girl. A selfish one if I must admit. I wanted to see you in that dress.”

“And after you saw me in it?” I asked, completely shocked at his revelation and reasoning.

“I wanted to see you from behind.” Shaking his head, he chuckled at his own fuckery. “You locked your door too quick. This is your fault.”

“My fault.” I screeched. “Just like a nigga.”

“G. I’m going to be out here. Put on your favorite pair of jeans and a nice little top or something.” I’d only been in his presence for minutes and the nonchalant attitude that he possessed was pissing me off and arousing me at the same time.

Had this been anyone else, I would’ve returned to my home and not came back out. But, I found myself locking my door for the second time within ten minutes of reentering my home. When I rested my ass in the seat, I noticed Sosa was rolling a second blunt with the first one still at his lips.


“Perfect.” he nodded, putting the unfinished blunt down and continuing to pull off the one he’d been smoking. “Here.” Sosa handed me the aux cord. “Put something on that you like. I’m certain my music won’t entertain you.”