Mama Sama Novels & Stories

BIG KAI "Mama," "Who the hell is she?" "Mama, wha....." "Answer the damn question, boy!" she yelled, glaring at me. I felt Shawty gripping my hand. "Answer our mother, Kai." Imani chipped, adding to my fucking anger. I glared at her. She rolled her eyes and flipped her hair proudly. "I am talking to you, boy." Mama retorted, making me look at her. She is still glaring at me.

“Mama is not leaving.” Elang smiled widely. “Success.”

Maya skipped beside Sam, her small hand in his. Her other hand held a melting ice cream cone, pink and dripping. She had already licked half of it, but the rest was sliding down the sides, threatening to ruin her dress. "Papa Sam, Mama is so brilliant!" she said, her voice bright with excitement. "She showed the judge the video and the bad people's faces went all white! Like ghosts!" Sam laughed. "Your mama is very brilliant." "And my Father!" Maya continued, swinging their joined hands. "He never even flinched! Not once! He just stared at them with his scary eyes and they all got scared!"

"By that, do you mean deceiving me, using me, helping Elena to kill my mom, and abusing me and Isabella? Sofia, you sicken me." He grabbed Sofia by the hair and began dragging her toward the basement. "Back then, your mother locked us in the basement. Today, I'm going to let you experience how it feels for yourself." Sofia screamed and struggled, but Ettore was too strong for her to break free. I watched all this play out without intervening. Elena, seeing Sofia seized, panicked herself. Taking advantage of the chaos, she tried to flee but was stopped by Camilla.

Camila The taste of cold lemonade filled my tastebuds as I gazed over the beach. It has only been a week since we've been in Italy, and it wasn't all that bad. Elijah wasn't a total scum as I thought, but I will never let my guard down. He's a Camorra, I never trust one, except Mira, you can't not trust Mira, she's one in a million and will most definitely fight for your trust.

“This handsome guy smoking a cigar is our father, Jeremiah Vaugh. See how I’m the only one who has the beauty the charm our father had, of course.” I frown in the kitchen because he’s playfully flirting with Sam and he growls teasing me. “Take it easy, Damy, even though I’m irresistible, I won’t steal your girl. And this beautiful woman with long black hair is our mother, Kamama Vaugh, my dad called her Kamy.” Sam looks at mom’s picture and asks: “Was she an Native American?” Hunter nods and adds:

Sounding princely while the suppressed thug in me was slowly surfacing. “More like no one wants a woman as pathetic as you. Truth is I am the only one who can ever accommodate someone like you. You might think highly of yourself but men don't like women like you. So when you're done throwing your tantrum you can come back to me,” he said and while I stared ahead, my hand shaking and tears springing in my eyes. Why would he do that to me? “Fuck you!” I shouted my first curse word in ten years since the first time I said it and my mother canceled our scheduled vacation to Disney world and punished me with a trip to the beach instead where we had gotten into an accident and they had both died.

She nods off at once for her son's request. "Mom, Dad, I'll take Xavier home." Lucrecia asks for leave while kissing her parent's cheeks, then taking turns to kiss the son. "Alright, take care." After asking for leave, Lucrecia takes her son to the city park, looking for a merchant who sells for grilled sausages. It takes time to look for the peddler until finally she finds out the one, going around by a red car with a sausage image on the body of the car. Or it's more known as a food truck.

Every one seemed to be busy and focused. She approached the receptionist; a woman in her 40’s , had her eyes glued to the computer screen at all time. “Hello ma’am” “Yes, what do you want?” the woman asked, her eyes still glued to her computer. She doesn’t seem to happy. “ahmm, My name is Lena. I got a mail this morning that I am supposed to come here and….” The woman finally stopped looking at her screen and turned to Lena. “What do you want?” she asked again, like she didn’t here her the first time.

“Where are you off to this evening Ma?” Mama replied, her tone trying to sound as cool as possible, “I’m going to the police station.” On cue both Isa and I responded while handing me glasses for our wine, “In that?” Mama was wearing a long, fitted, V-neck, orange and white halter summer dress, a pair of gold heels which she seldom wears; her make-up, hair, nails, and accessories were flawless. Despite Mama’s age, she looked like she was fresh out of jet magazine, the ’40 and Still Got It’ edition, although she's really peaking at 60.