Product Description

I was just a lost little girl forced to make it in a grown woman's world. A child turned out by the rulers of the game. When you get thrown into a snakepit you better learn how to wiggle! It's all about survival, baby. And not only did I learn the code of the streets, I made my own damn rules and got paid in the process. So listen close, but watch your pockets. I'm a Harlem girl. A scandalous chick. A ruthless mama. Me and this city are just alike. Grimy. And we never, ever sleep...

It's a hard knock life for Saucy Sarita Robinson and the rules of the game are clear: get yours or get had. When her father gets popped in an armed robbery and her mother turns to drugs, Saucy is left to scratch out a life for herself on the streets of Harlem, and this city-slick vixen refuses to become a victim.

Young, hot, and hungry for the spotlight, Saucy has a full package and uses her assets to get whatever she wants: 128th Street has its own rules, and she knows them well. With sex as her weapon of choice, Saucy hustles her way straight into the heart of the hip-hop underworld, preying upon any man -- or woman -- who might help her get ahead. But Hottt Saucy just can't get enough. Her calculating nature and insatiable appetite for power and prestige tempt her into dangerous waters, and before long she finds herself in too deep. The shot callers of the hip-hop world have a few tricks for Saucy -- a gutter plan to force her back onto the very streets that she came from.

But Saucy refuses to go down easy. She plots her revenge against some of the most powerful playas in the music industry, never suspecting that her enemies will fight back...and fight back hard.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #145298 in Books
• Published on: 2007-03-06
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 304 pages

Features

• ISBN13: 9781416533023
• Condition: NEW
• Notes: Brand New from Publisher. No Remainder Mark.
• Click here to view our Condition Guide and Shipping Prices

From Publishers Weekly
Last seen during a short walk-on (or rather, incall) in Thug-a-Licious, Saucy Robinson returns with a vengeance in Noire's latest Harlem street tale, with Noire's most sophisticated plot to date. Born in Harlem to a black ex-G.I. father and a junkie Korean prostitute mother, Saucy (named Seung Cee by her mother and Sarita by her father) ends up in her uncle Swag's care by age eight, after her mother pimps her out to various men and her lesbian lover. Saucy's upstairs neighbor is a black girl named Tai, and the two are on-again, off-again frenemies for the rest of the book. Saucy, a total hottie, ends up attached to various drug dealers and working at a strip joint, the G-Spot. She breaks into doing rap videos, and ordinary-looking Tai, who is working for super-rapper Freedom Moore, hooks them up. Free wants Saucy to act straight, and if she can, her happiness might be assured. Beyond the sex, what drives the book is Saucy's vivid, trash-talking unreliability—except perhaps in describing her own pleasure. (Mar.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1

This was gonna be my last damn time riding somebody's nasty Prison Gap bus. Babies were crying, music was blasting, and every ghetto trick in New York City was trying to get upstate for a trailer visit. I elbowed the hefty sistah who was sitting on my right. A licked-down watermelon stick was clutched in her fat fist, and she was snoring like a truck driver when we hadn't even hit the highway yet. I pushed her ass even harder. She had the whole damn window to lean up against, but she insisted on pouring that chocolate Jell-O all over me.

I crossed my legs and tried not to let too much of my Fendi jacket touch the stained cloth seats. There wasn't no telling how many skeezers had sat their stank asses here before me, and I wasn't anxious to pick nothing up on my last trip.

New York was hot as hell for September, and right outside, Columbus Circle was live and jumping. Brothas was hoopin' under lights and slamming killers on the handball courts in Central Park. White boys skateboarded off half-pipe ramps about to bust they asses. A Sabrett cart sat on the corner where tourists lined up to buy dirty franks with onions and sauerkraut.

The bus I was on had a big number 4 taped to both sides. Fifty dollars and an eight-hour ride would get me upstate to Sullivan County's Woodburne Correctional Facility where my gangsta boo, Sincere, was finishing up his last two months of a one-year bid.

Sincere was originally from L.A., but had come to Harlem to run product with some Haitians that he was down with in a major way. But you know how it goes. Niggas got shiesty, shit got shady, and Sincere ended up getting knocked for associating with known felons and violating his parole.

For the past ten months I'd been climbing my ass on the bus right along with all the rest of the jailhouse wifeys, and enduring that long-behind ride upstate, not only to see my sugar daddy, but to keep his game alive. Shit, couldn't no prison bars keep a gangsta like Sincere on lock. My boo was getting his hustle on from deep inside the joint. He controlled the money game by keeping his buyers and his suppliers isolated and totally dependent on him for all contact, and my job was to be the information broker who helped him keep the two ends from meeting.

Life with Sincere was sweet, even if he was locked down. He did his bid, while I held down his three-bedroom apartment that he had let me decorate with the finest shit money could buy. I shopped my ass off, tricking his chips to keep myself looking and feeling grand. And best of all, I didn't have to worry about shit except helping him keep his empire thriving while he chilled lovely in the belly of the beast.

So twice a month I made a product run. I picked up a sample package from a designated location, and carried it behind the walls of the medium-security prison where I tongue-slipped it to my boo. And in return he slipped me two addresses. One to the spot where the remaining product could be found, and the other that told me where the money would be waiting to change hands.

Even though I was traveling on some fake ID I had bought from some white businessmen in Midtown, shit could go wrong at any time. It was risky as hell transporting drugs into a state prison, but today's trip had a dual purpose. Nothing coulda stopped me from getting next to Sincere's black ass on this goddamn visit. The game had changed, but that nigga just didn't know it. A little birdie had dropped some real gutta shit in my ear, and if I played my cards right, I would walk outta that prison with some chips and some payback all at the same time.

Tossing my curls, I checked out some of the stunts who were straggling onto the bus. According to my Rolex we should have been moving by now, but there were so many baby mamas dragging their whining kids and shopping bags full of food and toys, that we were running behind.

I elbowed the snoring Fat and Fruity sitting there leaning left and flopping all over me until she opened her eyes and straightened her ass up. That watermelon stick wasn't doing shit to cover up all that Henny coming outta her pores. She gave me a shitty look and sucked her teeth, then pressed her face against the booger-crusted window and went right back to sleep.

Unlike a lot of these chicks, I never slept on the bus. I didn't care how tired I was or how long I had to ride. I never closed my eyes anywhere unless the atmosphere was right, and them gangsta bitches riding the Prison Gap bus didn't make me feel exactly cozy.

Twenty minutes later the bus was full and I was watching the streets of Manhattan slip past outside. Big girl was still knocked out on my right, and some bugged-out chick with three stair-step kids was fussing on my left.

"These goddamn kids!" she complained, slapping the bottom of her toddler's sneaker to get it back on his foot. "Ain't nobody tell you," she said, twisting and turning his foot and trying to force it back inside the expensive little sneaker, "to take off your goddamn shoe!"

The baby hollered like she was breaking his ankle.

"Shut the fuck up!" I muttered, turning away from them. I hoped like hell he wasn't gonna be crying and fussing all the way upstate. At least not sitting next to me. I knew his mama had heard me because she sucked her teeth real loud.

" 'Scuse me?" This ho was actually tapping on my arm.

I looked down at her grimy-ass hand with the raggedy, bit-back nails, then straight into her face with much heat in my eyes.

"Don't fuckin' touch me," I snapped, shaking her off.

She quit messing with the baby's shoe and gave me the bitch-hell-no-you-didn't look.

"Well fuck you too! I was just gonna ask you what time it was, but now I see! Ya Chinese-looking trick!"

"Well stop smoking crack and buy a fuckin' watch!"

"You better leave her crazy ass alone," a girl who was sitting in front of her turned around and laughed. "Bitch prob'ly know karate."

I knew where this chick was going, but like most people she had totally missed the mark. Don't let the chinky eyes fool you. At five feet nine, with a hundred and twenty pounds of titties, ass, light brown skin and slanted eyes, I'd been hearing that "Chinese" shit all my life. The real scoop was, I was half black and half Asian. My father had been a heroin fiend from Harlem, and my mother was a Korean prostitute who had turned him out while he was stationed in her country with the marines. Daddy had married Kimichi and brought her back home to New York with him, and when he got popped in an armed robbery a few years later, me and my moms were left stranded on 128th Street with nowhere else to go.

I kept my eyes forward and ignored the chick in my ear. What she needed to do was take care of all them nasty-nosed kids and keep her dirty hands up off of me. A lot of bitches assumed I was soft because of the way I looked. And yes, I was a dime from head to toe. I'd gotten the best of both worlds. Long, curly hair, soft brown skin, chinky eyes and a dazzling smile. And the body. Yeah, the body was from Bally's and every inch of it was tight. A nigga could eat a whole meal off the hump in my ass. In fact, if you put me in a butt-out contest with hoes like Buffie, or Nutmeg, or Ki Toy, I'd shut all of them down. My lady lumps were just that humped.

We made our first stop about an hour later, somewhere outside of the city.

"Okay, people!" the bus coordinator yelled as we pulled into a gas station that had a convenience store attached. "This is a ten-minute stop! You can go in the store and get something to eat, use the bathroom or do whatever. Just be back on this bus in ten minutes, or be left!"

Big girl next to me was still snoring up against that nasty window and I left her ass right there. The wheels had barely stopped turning when I grabbed my Dior purse and matching overnight bag. I jumped out my seat and beat most of the mamas and their babies down the aisle, then hopped off the bus.

A second bus going to Woodburne had just pulled up behind us, so I hurried up inside the store and found the bathroom. A few people had gotten in there before me, but I cut the line and pushed my way in front of two little girls, then found an empty stall and locked the door behind me.

I checked my bag and made sure my doe and my sample product was straight, then I flushed the toilet with the tip of my shoe and walked back out. At the sink, I washed my hands and pretended to mess with my hair. I arranged my jet-black natural curls around my shoulders while I looked in the mirror and checked out everybody who stepped through the door behind me.

And they were checking me out too.

I had on a pair of Baby Phat jeans that showed off my small waist and bubble ass and a satin corset under my jacket. I laughed inside as chicks walked in the bathroom and glanced around, then zoomed in on that full phatty package in my trunk before looking away, like what I was holding could possibly be ignored. My attention shifted when a tired-looking broad walked over to the sink and smiled at me through the mirror.

"Hey," she said shyly. She had red freckles on her yellow pie face and a big rotten grin. "You going to Sullivan?"

I shook my head as I calculated her situation at a glance: She was young, broke, trifling, and going upstate to visit a criminal nigga who was depending on her to keep his gear fresh and his commissary fat.

"Nah. I'm going to Woodburne. They right next to each other though."

She pumped soap from the dispenser and rubbed it all over her hands.

"This my first time riding. My baby's father just got sent up for something he didn't even do! But I'ma keep it real, regardless. He got five years, and me and my son gone do all five of them years right along with him."

Stupid ass. She was looking at me like I was supposed to agree with that nonsense. Her picture came through real clear. Home-permed hair that had broken off all around the edges, dirty sneakers, nice body, but no style. I gave her a phony smile, then strutted out the bathroom without another word.

The little convenience store was hopping. I grabbed a pack of Doublemint gum, some Red Hots, and a pineapple ...

Customer Reviews

Down and Dirty
Thong on Fire by Noire
Genre: Urban Erotica
APOOO rating: 5
Amazon.com rating: 5

Thong on Fire by Noire has all the classic components to classify
itself as an urban erotic tale. What sets this novel apart from the
rest of the tales told in Harlem, New York is the twist. A twist
that sheds the many layers of Saucy Robinson to reveal what makes
this woman tick. Through the hurt and pain, trials and
tribulations, the sex and eroticism, Saucy tries her best to land on
top - literally. This is the tale of a woman that suffers at the
hands of many individuals but refuses to be the victim. Saucy will
do whatever it takes and by any means necessary to make sure she is
the woman in the spotlight, in the music video, on the arm of the
hottest artist (male or female), or walking through the velvet ropes
to the VIP section of the club.

The reader is introduced to the many individuals that help shape and
mold Saucy Robinson's character. From the very beginning, Noire
illustrates to the reader the suffering Saucy endures from the death
of her father and the abuse she suffers at the hands of her drug
addicted mother. It is obvious that the scandalous woman Saucy
becomes is because of the rage and anger that brews within. Saucy
has no choice, in her opinion, but to build a wall and to look at
herself, first and foremost. Saucy has been blessed with the exotic
features from a Korean mom and the body of a goddess that has been
passed on by the genes of her African American father. Saucy
definitely uses what she has to get what she wants.

So who should read this book? Anyone looking for a departure from
the traditional erotica story. Do not get me wrong. This is a
novel penned by Noire so the sex scenes will steam up the mirrors.
The reader and Noire fans alike will not be disappointed when it
comes to the scenes in which Saucy really work her magic and earns
her bedroom nickname. The true story is what lies beneath the sex
Saucy so willingly gives up to any man or woman. This is not just
the tale about a video vixen smiling pretty while shaking all her
assets with barely anything there, but about a woman whose judgment
is clouded by the spotlight she is constantly seeking on stage or on
television, the bling she will do anything to obtain and most
importantly, by the life she has had to live and endure. Noire
delivers a captivating page-turner that will be hard to put down.
Thong on Fire is not just a book but a literary journey that goes
beyond the sheets.

Reviewed by Sharon Russ
APOOO BookClub

Too Hot to Trot!
Noire captivates you with this tale beginning with the abuse of a little girl named Saucy. Saucy used her abuse to become wickedly smart and manipulative. Throughout her story she walks over so many people, always trying to find someone to use as a stepping stone.

I think it could have stood a little more depth, but was interesting enough to keep your attention to see if Saucy was able to rise above her past or fall to a much deserved demise. Because she really didn't know any better!

I envisioned Freedom as Common, just using my imagination! I did enjoy her tale of the music industry, videos, and the antics that occurs in the business. Noire also incorporates child abuse, promiscuity, entertainment buzz, jealousy, back-biting, and even murder in this novel.

The story sounds familiar but she puts her style of twists and turns on it to make it a definite original!!! Kudo's!

Uh, i guess!
I am a big fan of Noire. But I like her other books better. Dont get me wrong, the book had its good parts and corny parts. Ok, the main character Saucy, was off the chain to say the least. I know that girls who are brought up going through things she went through usually have major issues when they become adults. But Saucy was just nasty. I'm surprised she didnt end up with Aids. I thought the book would end that way. And speaking of endings, thats probably the worst part of the book. But being that its written by Noire, you'll want to finish it in one day even though it has some parts that drag. As I mentioned earlier, the other books were better! Don't worry though, i'll read her next one that comes out anyway.