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H I C K S O N
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Posted on Monday, September 19, 2005 - 11:55 am:   Delete Post View Post/Check IP Print Post    Ban Poster IP (Moderator/Admin only)

An excerpt from CONVICT'S CANDY
by DAMON "AMIN" MEADOWS & JASON POOLE

“Sweets, you’re in cell 1325-upper,” said the Correctional Officer, as he’d instructed Candy on which cell to report to. When she’d heard ‘upper’, Candy was happy that she didn’t have to take the bottom bunk, wondering who would be occupying the cell with her. As Candy had grabbed her bedroll and headed towards the cell, located near the far end of the tier and away from the officer’s desk and sight, butterflies had grown deep inside of Candy’s stomach, as she’d become overwhelmed with nervousness; trying hard to camouflage her fear.

The fact that this was Candy’s first time in prison had frightened her, being forcefully trapped in terror against her will. Candy had become extremely horrified, especially when her eyes met directly with Trigger’s, the young, hostile thug she’d accidentally bumped into while being placed inside the holding cell; Trigger rudely shoving Candy when she’d first arrived to the facility.

“THE FUCK YOU LOOKIN’ AT, HOMO?” Trigger had spat; embarrassed that Candy had looked at him. Trigger immediately had wondered if she was able to detect something different about him and his masculinity, hoping that Candy hadn’t gotten any ideas that he might’ve been attracted to her, since Candy had caught him staring hard at her.

She’d quickly turned her face in the opposite direction, wanting desperately not to provoke Trigger, as the thought of getting beat down by him instantly had come to Candy’s mind. She couldn’t exactly figure out the young thug, although Candy thought she might’ve had a clue as to why he’d displayed so much anger and hatred towards her. Yet, this wasn’t the time to come to any conclusions, as Candy was more concerned with whom she was sharing the cell with.

When Candy reached cell 1325, she’d glanced twice at the number printed above on the door, making sure that she was at the right cell before she’d entered. Candy had peeped in the window to see if anyone was there. Seeing that it was empty, she’d stepped inside of the cell that would serve as her new home for the next five-and-a-half years.

Candy was overcome with joy to find that the cell was perfectly neat and clean, and for a moment, she’d sensed that it had a woman’s touch. The room had smelled like sweet perfume, instead of the strong musk oil that was sold on commissary.
Right away, Candy had dropped her bedroll and raced towards the picture board that hung on the wall, analyzing every photo, curious to know who had occupied the cell and how they had lived. Candy believed that a photo was like a thousand words; she felt that people told a lot about themselves by the way they posed in photographs, including how they displayed their own pictures.

Candy had smiled as her eyes perused over photos of gorgeous models, both male and female, and had become happy when she’d found the huge portrait of her new cellmate. Judging by his long, silky jet-black hair, facial features and large green eyes, Candy assumed that he was Hispanic.

Finding out the identity of her cellmate, Candy had decided that it was best to go find him and introduce herself, in hopes that he would fully accept Candy into the room. As she’d turned around to head out the door, Candy was immediately stopped by a hard, powerful right-handed fist to her chiseled jaw, followed by the tight grip of a person’s left hand hooking around her throat, crushing Candy’s vocal cords so she couldn’t scream.

Candy had haphazardly fallen back into a corner, hitting the back of her head against the wall and had become unconscious momentarily. Within the first five seconds of gaining back her conscious, she’d pondered who had bashed her so hard in her face. The first person that had come to mind was Trigger. Secondly, Candy also had thought it might’ve been her new cellmate who obviously didn’t want Candy in his cell, assuming by the blow she’d just taken to her flawless face.

Struggling her way back from darkness, Candy’s eyes widened wide, now being terribly frightened, as she was face-to-face with two unknown convicts wearing white pillow cases over their heads; mean eyes had peeked from the two holes that were cut out from the cloth. The two attackers had resembled members of the Ku Klux Klan bandits as they hid their faces; both armed with sharp, ten-inch knives.

Overcome with panic, there was no doubt in Candy’s mind that she was about to be brutally raped, as there was no way out. Candy had quickly prayed to herself, hoping that they wouldn’t take her life as well. Yet, being raped was no longer an important factor to Candy, as they could’ve had their way with her. All she was concerned with now was continuing to live.

CONVICT’S CANDY, the new novel by Damon “Amin” Meadows and Jason Poole, Essence bestseller of LARCENY.
CONVICT’S CANDY—A GHETTOHEAT® PRODUCTION.

H I C K S O N
CEO of GHETTOHEAT®
Publisher of GHETTOHEAT®, CONVICT’S CANDY and SKATE ON!

GHETTOHEAT®
P.O. BOX 2746
NEW YORK, NY 10027
GHETTOHEAT.COM

GHETTOHEAT®: THE HOTNESS IN THE STREETS!!!™
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