R E L E A S E M E .
He held my hand tight staring into my eyes telling everything I wanted to hear. The increasing heat in his presence was not unusual niether was the tone in his voice; barely above a whisper casting spells over my heart as each word rippling beneath my flesh. A cold breeze passed through his lips as his kissed the top of my head with affection before looking at me with that famaliar look in his eyes.
“You understand don’t you?” He asked.
I didn’t but what could I say, how could I change the rules that bound my heart to his. .
“Say something!”
My lips parted and my tongue danced a little before stopping dead and landing heavily at the bottom of my jaw. .
” Its not the right time.” He gushed as convincingly as his lies would let him. .
“It never will be.” I utter, my own voice as deceiving as his loving whispers. “This is the end and we both know it!”

The words poured from my lips, constructed from my mind but, not from my heart. …
“Don’t be so rash!” He snapped, unable to comprehend my words. “Your not making any sense! I am not going anywhere!”
I watched his shoulders straightened and his jaw tightened as I realeasd my hand from his grip. .
“No I am! I’ve played by your rules and you keep winning. I am past waiting for your to grow up and be a man. We are finished.” ….
I couldn’t stop the river of tears trailing from my eyes as I attempted to walk away. Gripping my arm with force he pulled me backwards into his arms. ….
“I love you!”
“I loved you too. But love doesn’t hurt, love doesn’t lie and true love never dies.”
Slowly he realeased me and my captured heart.
. © W O R D B E R R Y
#fiction #writersprompts #writersofig #womenofcolour #readersofig #readersofinsta #womenofliterature #blackgirlswrites #authorsofinsta#instawriters #wordsofcolour #blackgirlswrite #mircofiction #historicalfiction #shortstory #blackgirlmagic #storyteller #greaatreads #authorscommunity #writersprompts #writersofinsta #mircofiction #greatreads #writersconnect #romancereads #writersofinstagram #romancefiction #blacklove #blacklit #biliophile #igstories



Waiting patiently she rose from the bed slowly. She had never seen anything like it. The sheets felt like satin and even the carpet felt like it had several more layers than the one in her own home. Last night she had no time to admire her surroundings, but in the morning light she had woken in paridise. Careful not to make a sound she padded across the floor and opened the door slowly. The sound of footsteps propelled her back to bed as if she had never moved. He entered with a smile on his face and a tray in hand. Steam rise from the mugs of sweetness he carried carefully.

“Morning Sweetness.” She stirred slowly before opening her eyes.
“I thought you might like this.”
Offering her a steaming mug before placing the tray on the side table.
Settling on the side of the bed he picked up the other and brought the heat to his lips.
“Are you going to say something!”
She looked at him with welcoming eyes and smiled. “I cannot believe this is real!” She gushed.
“Does it matter.” She looked at him quizzically before placing the mug back on the tray.

“What do you mean!”
“Will you love me for richer or poorer, is gold all you see.”
Glasping his face with her palms she pulled him close.
“Nothing, I mean nothing will stop me from loving you!”
He searched her face for lie before placing his lips on her own.
“Thats perfect because I’m not who I said I was. ” her arms dropped from his shoulders her lip quivered and her eyes squinted. “My name is Lord Harrison the third.”
“I lied.”
“I get that.” She snapped.
“Your upset.”
“Are you serious!”
“Most girls would be happy.”
Slipping off the bed she grabbed her skirt off the chair and stepped inside its circumference before shuffling the latex material upwards.
“I’m not most girl’s. Why would you lie any way. Who wants to claim the hood when they got all this.” She yelled.

“This isn’t me, I was born into this life. Your what I choose!”
“So your gonna move in with me, my mum , my gran and my brother’s.”
He looked away ashamed.
“Exactly. So Lord whatever the fuck uour name is go find you a Lady and stay our of the hoid where real bitches live.”
“Real bitch. Your as fake as me, uni classes at night hood rat by day.”
She crossed the room in a split second and slapped him so hard his eyes watered. “Dont you ever speak to me again.”
” What you gonna do? Shank me!”
Her lip trembled, tears rolled from her eyes and a pain exploded inside his chest.
“Stay in your lane Rich boy and I will stay in mine.”


#fiction #urbanfiction
The day my mother took her last breath they said I wouldn’t remember. But what did they know! They said the trauma and the memories would fade, but I remembered everything.
Bull burst through the door like an avenging angel, gun in hand pointing it at Daddy.
Daddy wasn’t my real daddy he was just another passing entity that I hadn’t bother to learn its name. See, Mother was a rolling stone collecting dirt as she rolled on.
Daddy was crying, tears rolling down his face as he blubbered and pleaded. I had never seen a gun before so I wasn’t sure what Bull had slapped Daddy to the floor with. But my mother, his saving grace flung herself on top of Daddy wailing at the top of her lungs.
“Where’s my money?” Bull snarled.
Daddy whimpered a tooth falling from his lips.
“You think this is a game.” Bull questioned, his eyes slanted and his lips curled into a small smile. “My money or your life”
Words I would never forget.
“Wait.” Mother wailed her crack weathered fingers covered in blood. “You got them boys on the corner working the lane. Take Peace he can work for free.”
Words I would never forget.
Mother found me huddled at the top of the stairs peeking through the banister were I held my breath. Dragging me down the stairs she shoved me towards Bull with an accomplished applause. He looked at me for what seemed like a long time before returning his gaze to the addicts on the floor. Raising his weapon Bull pulled the trigger and Daddy danced on the floor.
Mother screamed her blood splattered face an image of terror.
“Sorry little man but the streets always get paid.”
“Look what you done!” My mother squealed.
I knew then my Mother never loved me and never would.
“Fuck him, get you son.” Bull yelled with disgust.
Even though I was only twelve years old, I understood. It would be me or her. I was Mothers Sacrifice. Pulling the gun from Bulls grip I took aim and fired.
As her body slumped my spine straigthened.
That night I got a new Daddy; The streets.
I will never forget……..

© W O R D B E R R Y


The huge bed was too big to climb so Polly lifted Ebony up high and sat her gently upon the satin spread. The smooth fabric slid between her fingers like a snake moving through grass leaving no trail of her fingertips.

Polly leaned in closed , the famaliar scent of fresh grass and burnt wood seeping from her pores. Each time she laid eyes on the child she tried to understand the enigma that had shrouded her heritage from prying eyes. The traces of slavery had bypassed her flesh and settled upon her twin with force. .
“You need to understand the rules now Ebony.” she said as Ebonys eyes danced around the large room. “You are not to refer to May as your Mama anymore, do you understand?” .
Pointing to the window Ebony whimpered softly. “Mama.” .
Slapping her hand down Polly glared at her angrily. ” No.” .
Ebony sobbed uncontrollably not understanding the change that was about to take place. The mistress had failed to bear a living heir and Ebony had be chosen. Skin the colour of clotted cream and hair as black as coal she stood apart from Ivory. Ivory had skin the colour of tree bark and eyes the colour of the sky. Polly had no doubts that Ebony would soon forget the feilds and hardship. .
“Mistress Fanny is your Ma- Ma”
She drug out the word as if she was ending a song. “Ma-maaa.” Ebony echoed . “Thats right.” She announced gleefully. ”Head up child you are about to become a lady.”
© W O R D B E R R Y

#authorscommunity #writersprompts #writersofinsta #womenofcolour #writerscompetitions #creativity #space #creativewriting #womenofliterature #writersconnect #instawriters #wordsofcolour #blackgirlswrite #mircofiction #historicalfiction #windrush #blacknarrative #authorsofinstagram #blackgirlmagic #writersofinstagram #writerssociety #urbanpoet #wordswithkings #wordswithqueens

O R A N G E J U I C E & W A F F L E S

Splashes of sunlight danced across the walls highlighting the guilt staring back at her in the mirror. Although she had awaited his arrival anticipated his touch she had forgotten one thing. Slipping her feet into her shoes she stood with a glance at her reflection. .

“Was you just going to leave?” He sat up, propped against the pillow awaiting her answer.

She attempted to speak but just like a sorcerer he had captured her in his spell and left her speechless. He rose letting the covers fall of his body, each stride towards her taking her breath away.
“Don’t do this!” He whispered. “I won’t lose you again.”
Letting his hand caress her neck she parted her lips to meet his before a sharp tap on the door halted their passionate embrace and the rhythm of her heart.
“It’s only room service!” SmilIng she released his hand and admired his broad shoulders as he strolled to the door. “Orange juice and waffles right?”
© W O R D B E R R Y
#orangejuice #waffles #fiction #writersprompts #writersofig #creative #shortfiction #shortstory #womenofcolour #publishers #spilledinkpoetry #blackgirlswrite #womenofliterature #written #poetry #wordsofcolour #breakfastinbed #themorningafter #romancereads #romancefiction #authorsofinstagram #blackgirlmagic #blackgirlsread #writersofinstagram #writersfollowwriters #wordporn #bloglife #urbanpoet #urbanlit



So I have begun a writing Challenge on Instagram, I thought I would follow up on WordPress.

So threes days into december this is my December dailys.

Enjoy …

NOTE: If you know of any other writing Challenges COMMENT BELOW


DAY 1: Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa or none of the above? .
For me Christmas is family time that causes the most stress in preparation but is always one of the B E S T days of the year. However, K W A N Z A A is just as important for me. Cultural tradition is important for educating the next generation in their history and lineage. .

© W O R D B E R R Y


DAY 2: What are your writing goals as this year comes to a close?
To conclude 2018 .
-I intend to finish two projects I have been working on for a international publishing house.
-In addition I aim to self-publish a project.
Wish me luck!!!

. .© W O R D B E R R Y


DAY 3: Introduce your main character in your WIP (or your favourite of the year.)
Well, my debut book follows the journey of Ice Matthews, a married woman with a single husband. Ambitious and driven Ice find herself lost in the battle of love and her husbands lies. Only Ice survives the internal war; Triumphant over her demons she rises from the ashes like a Phoenix. … It’s only fair she gets the favorite of the year..
Click the link in BIO for a proper introduction to Ice Matthews…….

© W O R D B E R R Y

#tiffanyandco #revengebestservedcold #decemberwritingchallenge #festive #urbanliterature #womenofcolour #publishers #spilledinkpoetry #writersprompts #writerscommunity #writersofig #authorsofinsta #womenofliterature #blackpride #characterbuilding #style #wordsofcolour #fashion #blackbooks #authorsofinstagram #blackgirlmagic #writersofinstagram #writersfollowwriters #wordporn #wordsmith #instadaily #instaquoteoftheday #urbanpoet #urbanlit


The P R I D E .
An essence that departs from the
Omitting confidence from the
Blue, black shine and naturally
Adorned in unaltered cutural
Breathing and
Through generations,
© W O R D B E R R Y
#womenofcolour #thepride #instapoetry #jndieauthor #publishers #spilledinkpoetry #wordsofwisdom #quoteoftheday #writtenword #instareads #instadaily #instadaily #bbcafrica #wordsofcolour #igauthorlife #bloglife #inspiration #authorsofinstagram #stars #writersofinstagram #writersfollowwriters #wordporn #wordsmith #bloglife #beauty #digitalinteraction #fashion #stlye #culture #africandress #toppicks

R E A D M E: P A R T 2

M E R C Y L E S S …

Tayshan dailled his number frantically, her fingers skimming the wrong buttons more than once before the lock shifted and clicked. Stepping through the front door dragging his bike behind him Nathan sighed.Swallowing her distress she placed a smile over her frown and reluntantly stroded into his opened arms.
Rubbing her back he spoke above her head “You heard what happened den!” Dropping his arms he flopped into the sofa and tutted ” I almost died today, star!”
She willed her feet to move towards the bedroom but they wouldn’t, like a caged bird she was trapped “Yo you good Tay!” .
Searching for that smile she pinched her arm turned around to face him. “I’m good babe, its just sad that’s all.” .
“Tell me about it! Screw was like my brother in real life. Now..” his words dissappeared and a distant looked crossed over his face. “You going somewhere?” There was no need for her to look in the direction his gaze had fixated upon, she knew she had fucked up. “I was …” .
As he rose she closed her mouth and stood prepared. “So what you wasn’t even gonna tell man!” Crossing the floor and examining the cases she had lovingly packed he kicked them flat on the floor. “You know this ain’t happening right!” Six months she had planned this day to the finest detail, there wasn’t a day she hadn’t dreamt of a life without Nathan and the dangers of the street. Even though they were one and the same, Screw wanted different things, he had promised her a life away from the streets, away from Nathan and now he was dead she had no way out. .
“Let me go Nathan, I can’t do this no more!” She covered her mouth praying the words had not left her mind and travelled to his ears.
“Your not well! We just had a baby!” He roared. “Screws been dead five seconds and now you want to up and leave!” Shaking his head he wagged his finger and chuckled. ” You know what; You can go but my son stays with me!”
“I’m so sorry Nathan” she wept her body shaking with fear but her truth pouring from her lips. ” He’s not yours!” .
The world stopped for a moment, his mouth instantly parched and the blood bubbled in his viens. .
© W O R D B E R R Y
#series #webseries #book

R E A D M E :


They took something from her she can never get back – Turned her blue days black – She will make them pay with what they can not buy –
When Mercy comes someone is bound to die

Nathan leaned against his bike, hand under his chin he pondered Screws argument.
”You see man an woman …two different bloodclart species you can’t tell me nuthin’. “ hitting the air with aggression Screw waited for the listening ears to collaborate his random theory.
Defeated by the heavy silence, he lit the tail of his spliff and simmered down. Nathan dropped his shoulder and shook his head, twenty years they had been friends and Screw face aka Delroy Brown had never changed.
Change had been on his mind a lot lately. Man like Screw came once in a lifetime hence their brotherly bond but there was a time for everything and it was that time.
Tayshan had been his wifey for two years and her altermatum was get out or stay out. It was different for Tay, she had a good start, the product of a happy home was a far cry from the shit hole Nathan had grown up in. There was no happy home, or a parents around instead he had clambered through the care system and made it out. Nathan had no time for pity stories but he had a lot of time for Tayshan; Her beautiful hair and long legs had taken him deeper than he had ever been.

Drifting his gaze over the street he thought nothing of the female approaching her head low, beneath a large hood hips swaying in the slight drizzle. Screw had begun another unnecessary tale one that surprisingly had the audience captivated. Taking his focus off death approaching he listened as if he had been doing so all along.
“Yes Screw, that makes sense..”
“See even my man Nate here understands the deal. In this day and age we are no longer….” Screws words drifted off as a bullet brust through skin, flesh and skull.
Screws body dropped to the ground, the crowd had fled and the shooter dissappeared into the night.
Staring at his oldest friends dead body Nathan smiled. Mercy was about to change everything.

© W O R D B E R R Y




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