When I Was Puerto Rican Audiobook Novels & Stories

And from then onwards, we became very close. I started saving her a seat, sitting with her on my breaks. We started laughing, and talking about things that made me happy. I'd always laugh out loud even if it sounded like it belonged to someone else. Mrs Pancho didn’t ask about my past and I didn't tell her either. She told stories instead. Stories of how the Crimson pack burnt and was rebuilt. She also told stories of a boy named Roberto...her grandchild, who once clung to a stranger's leg after a massacre. A coup that took the lives of Roberto's parents.

Manny P.O.V My name is Manuel Antonio Rodriguez. I was born November 8th, 1973 on the beautiful island of Puerto Rico. To parents Gloria and Alfredo. I’m the youngest of eight siblings. Five sisters, and two brothers. Growing up in the countryside of the island with my family was awesome. My parents worked in the city. And that’s where we attended school.

I’m met with her gorgeous doe eyes that are wide and staring back at me. “I want you to be mine in every way; luna, mate, wife, everything.” “Enrique…” she begins, her voice shaky. “You are mine, Mi Amor, and I want everyone to know that you are the queen of this island and the seas. I want you to be the mother to my children. I want the entire world to know Enrique and Kataleya as one. That one day from now, when we are remembered, it is as one, not two individual beings. For this Puerto Rican man is nothing without his diosa.”

I mumbled, getting annoyed at the mere fact that I heard his voice the moment I was celebrating his absence. It made me feel how wrong I was and how Luca's presence would always glue to me even though he was absent. Deciding to enjoy the few hours I had, I sat comfortably on the sliding bench. The bright ray of the warm sun shone onto my skin, emitting a dark orange glow. TINT by Morrison Ishanique was the title of my book, written by a Jamaican author. It was my first ever Jamaican read, and though the language barrier, I still understood a little of every word. It was all thanks to my interest in languages too.

Now I get butterflies just thinking about Nova. I pick Nova up on my way to The Nightingale Cafe and can’t help myself, kissing their luscious lips at the door, despite my fear of their Abulita. I deepen the kiss and am just about to try adding tongue when a throat clears behind me…this is a deeper voice than I am used to and I turn to see a very handsome Puerto Rican man in his 30’s. He is slightly effeminate, but not overly so and dressed immaculately. “Well, Hello! I assume that you are Aldo?” His raised eyebrow is perfectly groomed.

I whispered, my voice barely audible over the sound of the sea. Marie appeared behind me, her steps quiet but deliberate. “Ma’am,” she said gently, “you should come back inside. You haven’t eaten anything.....” “Where am I?” I repeated, my voice louder this time. Marie hesitated, then finally answered. “I don't know if it's in my place to tell you. Yo....you’re in Panama, ma’am.” My heart raced, and my eyes widened in shock as Marie’s words echoed in my ears. Panama?

I heard a man over the phone saying to wait for his orders. I was terrified and I kneed one of them in the groin and tried to run but the other caught me by my hair and made me sit. I thought I was going to die and I hated that feeling. I hated myself for not being able to protect myself. "You're pregnant Jane. I told him to go to you," abuelo said. "Mateo is a strong man." Those words did nothing to reassure me. "That's the thing," I growled out, "he's not a man. He may look like he is but he is a boy, abuelo."

The meeting commenced on the safe topic of the said project by Mayor Morales, ending with another meeting scheduled for the concerned departments. “May I speak with you in private, Roman?” Romero asked while Rio and I were getting ready to leave. I nodded at Rio, and soon the commotion died down, leaving us in the massive room. “May I offer you a drink?” I was already in the minibar, pouring a glass of whiskey for the two of us. He accepted it, and we stood by the ceiling-high glass wall with the panoramic view of Guadalquivir. “How have you been?” “It’s nice to be back in town.” I smiled at him with caution. Once upon a time, I idolized this man growing up. I looked up to him as my older br

As soon as I arrived at the airport and went to pick me up, he gave me a gold pendant with the image of the Child Jesus. She is a fifty-four-year-old woman with two children, both boys. Manuel, twenty-three, and Rodrigo, twenty-seven. They were my second family. I owe them my first years in an unknown land, although life had not especially smiled on them. I can't help but feel nostalgic at the thought of Manuel. "I am from Santo Domingo. I imagine you're also from there because of your accent, ”Julio replies. He takes a drink from an espresso that the young woman has just brought him.

I zipped up my black hoodie, slung my crossbody bag, and was about to slip out the door when her voice filled the room. "Cariño... ¿podemos hablar?" ,(Sweetheart... can we talk?) My heart dropped. Shit! In the chaos, I’d forgotten about Mum and the explanation she’d demand about the money. Couldn’t I just come up with something? But I’d always been a terrible liar, and hadn’t tested that flaw in years. Until now.