Hea

Da truck is ova hea.

"She no stay home, I coming right back ova hea, and I goin' fuckin' kill you. So you tink about what you telling me. Cause if I come back, I no kea if you get fuckin' fifty pigs ova hea. I fuckin' kill 'um all." She smiled.

“Roll back ova hea'an...” No, this nigga didn't. “Nigga? Is that Shiree? Are you for real fuckin' laid up right now?” I yelled into the phone. I ain' even need an answer. The nigga started stutterin' and fumblin' the phone. I hung.

“Well, I likes it too, Peaches,” Mose said, grinning from ear to ear, “but if callin ya Pearl can gits ya ova hea when I calls ya den I's gon be callin ya Pearl. Come on ovah hea, Pearly gal, les see if it woks.

There's much debate over what is more powerful: historical romance that finds an HEA in spite of such truths and in the context of the past, or one that chooses to gift its characters an escapist fantasy generally the domain of white protagonists.