Heaven Diaz was raised by her abuela to be a good Catholic girl. But nothing -- and no one -- will mess with her life, or there will be hell to pay....
With a fantastic career, a luxurious home, and a successful and adoring husband, Heaven has a lot to be thankful for. But a chance meeting with a sexy and manipulative woman changes her life almost overnight, pulling Heaven into a violent drug war -- a battle she didn't want but now can't escape. What no one counted on is Heaven herself -- for when this good girl gets pushed too far, her wrath is deadly.
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November 19, 2007
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Excerpt from Heaven's Fury by 50 Cent
April 2007, Chicago
As the sun rose above the icy waters of Lake Michigan and sunlight began to stream through the blinds of a luxury high-rise apartment, Ricardo Diaz rolled over in the large silk-sheeted bed he occupied and grabbed a handful of his bedmate's ample bosom. He squeezed the firm golden mounds, tweaking the hardening dark nipples until the woman lying next to him stirred and moaned. Ricardo's hands began to travel down her abdomen until he reached her box and opened it. His fingers moved expertly, flicking her pleasure button until her juices began to flow. Without saying a word, Ricardo inserted his rock-hard manhood into the woman and began to thrust slowly in and out of her wet sweetness.
"Ay, Papi," the woman moaned, thrusting her hips against him in perfect harmony.
"That's right, girl," Ricardo said, encouraging his lover, pumping faster.
He fondled the woman's breasts and played with her engorged clitoris until he could feel her walls contract around his hardness and she shuddered and shivered with delight. Ricardo loved the way it felt when a woman came for him. There was nothing on earth like it, the high was incomparable, except for the high he got when he was making money. New pussy and new money were things that made life sweet for a baller like Ricardo Diaz and he had plenty of both.
Engulfed in the warm and throbbing sexy mami he was piping, Ricardo felt like a king. He always felt like a king when he was with her. She was his fly bitch, his mami chula, and not only was she fine but she was a freak.
"You like that?" Ricardo asked as he felt his lover climax again. "Come for me, Chula."
"Ooh, I'm coming for you, Papi," the woman squealed with pleasure.
Once he was convinced that his lover was satisfied, Ricardo went for his, grabbing a handful of the woman's hair and pounding her so hard that the sound of their skin slapping against each other echoed through the room like claps of thunder. Ricardo grunted and with a few final thrusts he climaxed deep within the woman, who sighed happily. Spent, Ricardo removed himself from the woman and rolled over onto his back, breathing heavily.
"Go fix me some breakfast, Gloria," Ricardo commanded, and his lady friend did as she was told. Minutes later, she returned with a cup of freshly squeezed orange juice and a cup of coffee.
"Will Belgian waffles be okay?" she asked.
"Yeah. Lots of butter, syrup, and powdered sugar."
"I'll fix them just the way you like them, Papi," she replied and went to prepare the meal.
Ricardo stretched lazily and propped his hands behind his head after clicking on the forty-two-inch plasma-screen television mounted on the bedroom wall. He went over all the things he had to do that day in his mind. After he left his Chula, he'd head to his business and make a few stacks, then he'd roll through the streets and check a couple of traps. Somewhere along the way he'd put in a call to his wife; maybe he'd take her out later to dinner and a show. But not before he got breakfast in bed and some head from his side lady, who'd returned to the bedroom with a tray of steaming-hot food. But the food would have to wait. As if she'd read his mind, Ricardo's mami chula climbed back into the bed and snuggled beneath the sheets, taking his manhood into her mouth and having a little breakfast of her own.
This is the life, Ricardo thought to himself as he received the blow job of a lifetime.
Heaven Diaz rolled over in bed to find her husband's side empty. Again. It was the second time in a week that her husband hadn't made it home. Her intuition told her that he was unfaithful, but she willed herself to believe the excuses he fed her. Ricardo loves me and he's working hard to build and maintain the wonderful life I have, she often told herself.
She got out of bed and went down the stairs of her five-thousand-square-foot home and into the kitchen. She couldn't help but marvel at the kitchen fit for a chef with its stainless-steel appliances and copper pots. Heaven had every gadget and gizmo known to the culinary world, and prepared meals fit for royalty every night of the week, but her husband was rarely home to enjoy them. When she first got married she thought that there would be candlelight and champagne every night, but her childhood fantasy was quickly marred by reality. Ricardo was a workaholic and put in long hours on the job as the owner of an exotic car sales, rental, and driver service.