STREET JUSTICE WASN'T HIS WAY. BUT FOR HIS OLDER BROTHERS, IT WAS THE ONLY WAY. The seven Davis brothers made a promise to their mother on her deathbed: they would each make something of their lives. And they vowed they would watch over eighteen-year-old Zabu Davis, their baby brother. Intelligent, driven, and charismatic, Baby Brother had resisted the lure of Brooklyn street life and was headed for Stanford University on a pre-med scholarship. But on the eve of his departure for California, in a split second of blinding violence, Baby Brother's life is thrown onto a tragic collision course. Soon, his devoted brothers follow a path of blood justice that will rock the city streets. Baby Brother was their pride and joy. Now, he's their reason to fight for vengeance.
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January 09, 2007
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Excerpt from Baby Brother by Noire
"Good morning, New York! It's time to get the hell outta bed! Right about now you're waking up with my girl Jonesy! Sure we hired her because she's pretty...but then after talking to her I realized she also has a great rap! Wake up on Hot 97! Let's get ta grinding on this hot, sunny morning in the Big Apple!"
The early morning sun baked the run-down five-story tenement from the direction of Queens. On the second floor, thin red curtains swayed in the light breeze, and the B20 to Spring Creek groaned toward Linden Boulevard, traces of its exhaust fumes wafting through the open window.
Inside the bedroom, Baby Brother plunged into his wet yummy, bumping bone and scraping walls. "Yeahhhh," he groaned, getting his mash on. He took a deep breath, then grunted and arched his back, pounding his pipe.
Beneath him, Sari moaned and panted. Her dark hair curled around her face and fanned over the pillow. Her juices smelled like Fruity Pebbles and it was just about breakfast time.
"Right there, mami?" Veins bulging, Baby Brother demanded, flinging sweat. "Is that where you like it, baby? Right there?"
She tossed her head no, but still squealed in pleasure as he grabbed her toned thighs, spreading them apart in a wide V. His fingers were hot on her caramel-colored skin. She pulled him deeper into her, then whispered something nasty in Spanish as the headboard slammed against the wall and Miss Jonesy talked shit in the background.