Tyresha

“Where the fuck is that nigga, Kyree at?” The intruder pulled his glock, his voice cold and clipped when he spoke. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She was stuck, torn between running, screaming, or simply begging this man for mercy. “I know yo’ fine ass heard me. Where that nigga at? I won’t ask again.” Kaavia swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she managed, “He’s… he’s not here.”
― Aja Cornish, Until My Last Breath: A Christmas Short Story

“You know your brother is packing and he got a big dick.” “Too much information, boo,” Char frowned. I shook my head holding my laugh in. “And his hand placement is top tier.” I couldn’t help but let my laugh come out as I leaned against the wall. “I knew your ass was eavesdropping,” Char grabbed me by the shirt, pulling me from being hidden behind the wall and playfully punching me in the arm. She and Aisha had caught me. “But, I guess you were nuttin’ for Christmas, huh, bro?”
― Ashantay Keys, Nuttin’ For Christmas

“Placing my hands on her stomach, I kissed her neck before dragging my mouth to her ear. Lovingly, I breathed, “Be prepared for me, soon-to-be Mika Roshelle Walker. Round two through fifteen will be fucking epic.”
― TN Jones, Deck His Halls

“Kenya, you better wake up. Your man is downstairs acting like a madman. I told him that I personally checked Tree and Hero out and they had nothing to do with Tom’s betrayal. He is not listening to logic.”
― Jatoria C., The Devil Wears Baccarat: An African American Romance