A lover of literature, good music, movies, and art, Fabiola Joseph is multifaceted. She was raised in Silver Spring, Maryland, and while in middle school, she found her passion for reading and writing. She began her love affair with the power of the written word, and it was clear that writing was her destiny.
In 2011, The Art of Deceit, a novel about the grime that dwells behind the shadows of Hip Hop, through the eyes of a video vixen, was released. In 2012, she coauthored the erotic tale Porn Stars 1 & 2, which provided readers with a behind-the-set look into the pornographic lifestyle. November 2012, Fabiola unleashed the fifteen-year-old serial killer Scarlett Rose. Rebel’s Domain is new and exciting, and brings something different and captivating. Suffocating in darkness, this teenager is nothing like any girl you’ve ever read about before. Her newest release is NIYA: Rainbow Dreams. NIYA explores the world of a stud lesbian named Niya and her best friend, Jamilla. This is a story about two young women who are coming to terms with who they are. It’s a touching tale of friendship, love, dreams, and murder. Niya 2: Dreamer’s Paradise was released in 2014, continuing the Niya saga.
Ms. Joseph also published two short stories. The Bully Bangers deals with a growing problem in America’s schools. The Bully Bangers brings justice to the jilted with a twist where the predators become the prey. Truth or Death brings readers a new meaning to couple’s therapy and the repercussions of a man who is living a double life.
Fabiola is uncompromising when it comes to her work. She believes that for her there is no box, so never try to fit her talents into one. Taking risks, being open and free within the realms of her words, and writing from the heart is the only code she lives by within the domain of literature. Enter her world and she promises that you will not come out the same. With her pen, she plans on changing the world.
*In 2015, Fabiola signed a multi-book deal with Urban Books. Niya 1&2 will be turned into one book and released 2016. It is no longer available for purchase independently.
What is the inspiration for Pricey?
Like many of my other characters, Billie Blue and Carmine came to me while I was working on another book. That happens often. I’m always most inspired while writing. But when they came to me, I wasn’t so sure of their story. I just knew that they wouldn’t leave me alone. Once I wrapped up the story I was working on, I went back to them and just sat there with a blank page before me, waiting to hear what they had to say. I thought that I would use them for a short story for an anthology. So, I wrote about…a 40 page piece and thought I was done. When the anthology didn’t work out, I said okay, I’ll make it into a novella. Little did I know that their story would run so deep. When I started writing, I didn’t know that it would lead me down the road of human trafficking. But once there, I dove in and did everything possible to find out all there is to know on the subject matter. I knew I needed to write about it once I found myself knee deep in the facts that I was reading. This story poured out of me. I was inspired by the characters themselves, by the horror of it all, and by the need to get the conversation started. Billie and Carmine are so rich, so ruined, and they were so full of madness that I just had to know more. And the more I knew, the more I wrote.
Tell us a little about your characters.
Billie and Carmine are two teenage kids, one taken from Haiti, the other from Cuba, and they are brought to America. Lured by fake promises, they end up trapped and working for the Pricey Pussy Empire. What I do love about them is that, they are so raw, so real, so unapologetically doomed. And although they know it, it’s like…they have the balls to go forward. Within the insanity of the dark world they exist in, the only sanity either of them can hold on to is their love. The love story between these two intertwines their dark souls, and it’s tragically beautiful. They also have to deal with the effects of the life they lived, and that’s my favorite part. We always hear or read about the dreadful things people have been through, but what happens to them once they’ve lived through it? Who do they become? It was wonderful for me to explore that and find out.
Is this the beginning of a series or a standalone novel? What made you choose either path?
For now, it’s a standalone. I know that by the end, readers will want Bobbi’s story, and Brandie Davis will be writing that. Only after the readers get her story, will I think about continuing the Pricey storyline. Well, that’s how I would like it to go {lol}. My publisher may see things differently. If so, I’ll tap back into the underground world of human trafficking and go for it.
As far as the reason behind it just being a standalone for now…That’s really just how I feel. I would love to get Bobbi’s story first.
What’s next?
I plan on continuing on my, “always give them something different” pen game. After closing out my Niya series, I am stepping outside of AA fiction for my next book. I just like trying my hand at something different. It keeps my mind fresh and motivated. Once I’m done with that, I have these AA fiction books that I can’t wait to get to. Baby, these characters are bold, funny, sexy, and of course, I’m going to fill them with that Fabie flavor…and I can’t wait.
READ AN EXCERPT HERE
Prologue: The Price of a Story
Her face was tight and shiny, showing the strain of previous plastic surgeries. I could tell that she was a little older than me. I was only twenty-five, and I wouldn’t give her any older than her late twenties. We were a vast contrast against the other. While I dripped with diamonds and feminine wiles, she wore combat boots and had an air of misery about her. Although I suffered from a miserable past, I wore my pain on the inside, while hers was splattered across her face.
When I entered the pricey hotel room with Carmine and our entourage of protection, I wondered why it was so dark. It was midday, yet the room looked as if it was midnight. I got close enough to her, and knew instantly why she shied away from the light. Beneath her scars and anger, I could tell she was once a beautiful woman. Now I wasn’t so sure how to feel about the woman who sat before me. The most attractive thing about her was her curly hair. Although at first glance you may have thought it wasn’t combed, a longer glance would prove that theory wrong. Ringlets of curls fell in place, adding a touch of female wiles to her rough exterior as it danced against her brown skin.
In my short time here on this earth, I had met two people with the same names but spelled differently. Those two individuals would somehow forever change my life. Bobby Capello, the man who was responsible for the darkest period of my life; and this woman sitting right in front of me, whose name was Bobbi.
Carmine and I sat across from Bobbi. There were also three other men whom she brought to guard her. I was agitated from the second Carmine pushed this meeting on me. It wasn’t that I knew the woman personally, but for some reason I just didn’t like her. Two days before the meeting, Carmine called her without her being aware that she was on speakerphone. I started sensing something when Carmine informed her that he wanted to include me in their next meeting. She hastily questioned his decision to do so. I had to be involved and she didn’t like that fact. How dare this bitch? Maybe she didn’t get the memo that Carmine never makes a move without me.
I think what irritated me most was the fact that this was another female. We had it hard enough when it came to dealings in the underworld. Men looked down on us, considered us weak, and never treated us as equals. I fought my way to the top. I was forced to leave bodies, traitors, and even those I considered friends behind. Those sacrifices should earn respect and she was going to give me that. I was only twenty-five, but it seemed like I had lived a full lifetime. I had lost, taken, killed, and now I ruled. Even if she was to be forced to do so, she needed to respect me.
Our ill-tempered exchange of words and disrespectful glares had thickened the air to the point that I was taking in long, deep breaths. Her last comment about me being too young—as if Carmine wasn’t just a few years older—touched a nerve. I looked at the lady who sat across from me and I turned my nose up in disgust. Not only did her outer appearance make her hard to look at due to all of the plastic surgeries, but her soul seemed to lack kindness.
“What in the hell do you know about me? Just because I am beautiful does not mean that my past was one of privilege. I had to fight to get to the top of the Pricey Pussy Empire just like you had to fight for your spot.”
She laughed as I tried to stand up for myself. Her face was so tight and frozen that she no longer looked like a young woman in her late twenties. Instead, her smile only added falsely earned years to her expression.
“Carmine, this is why I told you I would rather just deal with you. Women bring along too much bullshit with them. Her attitude changed the minute she laid eyes on me.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. I cocked my head back and bellowed out deep-rooted laughter, which I knew would anger her even more. “My attitude may have changed as soon as I laid eyes on you, but it doesn’t have everything to do with what you look like. Beyond your face, your attitude is fucking disgusting; but I am quite curious. Tell me who, no, what are you? My God, what in the hell did you do to yourself? I am almost afraid to look at you. Not because you put any fear in my heart, but because I don’t want to go home and have nightmares tonight.”
What I said was unkind and evil and I wanted it to be. Resentment and pain flashed in her eyes and I knew I had her attention. Carmine reached over and, at first, tried to calm me down with a light pat on the knee. When he realized that his slight touch wouldn’t work, he turned to me as if no one else was in the room. He lightly brushed my cheek with his hand and quickly kissed my lips. “Calm down, Billie Blue. Do this for me, my love. Calm down so we can talk.”
Carmine was the only person who could douse my fire, and I was always the good angel on his shoulder. We understood each other’s rage and could easily control the other’s wrath.
With my feelings somewhat under control, I looked at the monster. What I found in her eyes took me back. In the place of resentment, I saw sadness. Bobbi’s eyes were on Carmine’s hand, which sat on top of mine. Instantly, I was able to relate to her for that brief moment. I took a few seconds to question the lack of love she may have been experiencing in her life. The look of longing swam steadily in her eyes against the strong current of loneliness that lingered in the vessels to her soul. But as quickly as it had appeared, the minute she raised her eyes to face me her moment of weakness disappeared.
“What have you ever had to fight for? First place in a beauty pageant? Life must have been so hard for you. But here is the thing: out there your looks matter, but in the world we have chosen to thrive in, your looks don’t hold any weight. Well, not in mine at least. I sell drugs; I don’t push cunt. There are a million cute bitches walking around L.A. I didn’t question your looks because they matter. I am questioning your fucking guts. I want to know if you really have the balls to handle anything besides selling pussy.”
I jumped to my feet and she was right behind me. There was no need to look around the room. I knew that my soldiers were just as ready as hers. I wasn’t going to take too much of her disrespect without reaching out and showing her physically what I was all about. I had come a long way from that little girl who was taken from Haiti and placed in the Vega house. I was born from chaos and chose to continue on that path. It took me awhile to grow from meek and scared, and transform into a lioness who ruled her jungle while blood dripped from her fangs with pride. Now, I was a full-grown predator who would kill when provoked, and my claws were only seconds away from showing.
“It’s not about my looks, huh? If that were really the case, why do they bother you so much? I came here to discuss business with who I thought was a businesswoman. Instead, you have chosen to wear your weaknesses on your sleeve. That anger and jealousy that is leaking from your pores isn’t because you think that I am incapable of handling mine. No, that’s not why. You didn’t stand here throwing daggers at my beauty because you thought that it would stop us from making money. No, you just can’t stand looking at what you will never be. We are two women who had to fight to stand in our positions; yet, just like a fucking woman, you would rather hate me for what I have, for what you lack, and for what you may never have again,” I said, leaning into Carmine.
Bobbi stood in front of me, heaving for air. I watched as the beast damn near salivated at what I presumed was the thought of making me pay for my words. Her face was once again twisted with hate, but I was ready for whatever she wanted to do. I may have been selling sex and, to some, that was disgraceful. But, to me, respect needed to be shown no matter the game, because the players were all the same. No one was above the other. They came to me seeking pleasure from the sexiest men and women, and I supplied them with the best. As for her, she fed the dirty little drug habits of the people who yearned to escape the real world. From what I had heard, her shit was some of the best drugs around. Together, we were destroying the world in our own ways, so that made us even. We held keys that opened different doors, but those doors all led to the same destination: hell.
“Little girl, this game isn’t for the beautifully weak. The pussy game doesn’t hold a candle to the game I play. I can look at you and tell that you just don’t have the heart.”
At first, I wanted to rip her fucking tongue out of her mouth and force her to swallow it along with her words. She had no idea who she was speaking to. I took the Pricey Pussy Empire by storm and handled things as any man in power would. I also liked to think that I ran it better. To me, women had this elegance about them that men lacked. Even when I had to ruffle some feathers, no matter if it was a worker, a buyer, or a partner, I did it with grace and class. Carmine once told me that in the midst of fury, that was when I was the most beautiful. It didn’t matter if I was being charming just to instill my will, or chopping off their goddamn heads, I did it the way only a woman could.
I stood there thinking about all of the grotesque ways I could make this old, bitter bitch suffer, but I knew that I could only fantasize about feeling the texture of her blood against my fingertips. Forcing her to show respect would do nothing but start a war, and I was much wiser than that.
“How about you sit the fuck down and let me tell you about who I am? I am asking nicely because if I opt to show you, you may not walk out of here alive,” I said, still filled with anger.
Peering into my eyes, it was as if she saw something in them of interest. Her eyes softened and she backed away. Bobbi took her seat as she chuckled. She picked up her drink and crossed her legs. She played with her wild head of hair as if she was trying to get every strand into place; and, with a wave of the hand, she asked me to continue.
“Go ahead, Billie. Let’s hear what brought your pretty little ass right in this room, at this very moment.”
I looked at Carmine, and asked if he would fix me a drink. I took my seat, took a few deep breaths, and told her my story. No, I didn’t just tell her my story; I told her our story. Bobbi sat and witnessed secondhand the evolution of Billie Blue Blondie and Carmine Pallazolo.
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1 Comments
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