Jahleel

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Authors: S. Ann Cole

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College

BOOK: Jahleel
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Jahleel

by

S. Ann Cole

Jahleel
By S. Ann Cole

Copyright © S. Ann Cole 2014

License Notes

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Without limiting the rights under copyright(s) reserved above and below, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior permission of the copyright owner. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

Cover by S. Ann Cole

 

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Author's Note

Acknowledgement

About The Author

Contact Ann

S. Ann Cole's Bookshelf

Dedication

F
or Jahleel and Tiffany…

…because it was never just ‘Jahleel’, or just ‘Tiffany’. It was always Jahleel and Tiffany, or Tiffany and Jahleel.

I love you both.

Chapter One

“Y
ou
 are such a strong, head-on woman, Kia. You are awesome.

I heard that a lot.

Long before my parents made their unexpected exit out of my life, I used to hear those words. At seventeen, after they died, I heard those words even more. The same words voiced by so many people complimented me all my life.

And I used to agree.

Accepting the credits, I
did
believe I was strong, sensible, driven, mature, sensible (deliberately repeated) and functional. Because I was. Really. Truly. I was all of those things…

Until I met Jahleel Kingston.

Alright, I didn’t exactly ‘meet’ him. No, not ‘meet’, because he didn’t even notice me. What I should’ve said was: until I ‘saw’ Jahleel Kingston.

Yes,
saw
.

Just saw him.

Glimpsed him at first. Then tripped over my own feet aiming to draw closer for a clearer, unhindered view. Then I gawked at him. Then drooled. Then hyperventilated. Then I became obsessed, becoming a Jahleel-craving idiot.

A fool. A dumbarse. A dolt. A lummox. Throw what names you will, I readily accept them.

So, the adjectives ‘strong’ or ‘sensible’ no longer belonged anywhere near the name Saskia Day. Once upon a time, I
was
a strong young woman, but that ‘me’ died a brutal death the second I laid eyes on the biggest American arsehole ever, who became the bane of my existence, but at the same time, the love of my life and holder of my happiness.

One glance at him, and he didn’t even have to acknowledge me to rob me of my senses, my thoughts, my integrity, my virtue, my pride, my heart and, most of all, my love. Both a blessing and a curse, he took it all, all of me, just by
existing
. Just by breathing.

Jahleel Kingston stole me, claimed me, owned me, just by ignoring me.

First time I saw him?

Well, I had just hit the 20, just got me some freedom, and just landed my biggest gig yet. Quite a lot of ‘justs’ there, yeah? So I’ll just throw in ‘just fell in love’, too.

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