The Black blood story, now told

Black Blood Jamaica, tell stories you can’t put down

How to tell stories, about Jamaica? black blood has just done it for you.  

When my blood is black, and I’m Jamaican, all sorts of whacky things are likely to happen. Whether I'm Jamaican in the diaspora or at home. Come on now, let's take you on a wild ride down Jamaica way, with Black blood

picture of Black blood, the book
Picture of the site of the black blood story, and the book cover

What is black blood, the story? Black blood is a futuristic story, a close up look at the life and times of a Jamaican police commissioner on the eve of retirement, and his encounters with a trans-continental drug lord and wanna-be-Jamaican king-pin, who goes by the name, count Lasco. The world was on a comeback Trail after "the conflict" had passed, and the countries and peoples which were affected by it, was starting to reinvent themselves. While many of those Nation’s Stars were still falling in the aftermath of the conflict, others were rising at meteoric speed. One such fast-rising country at the time was the tiny island of Jamaica in the Caribbean regions. Commissioner Watkins was the top cop of the Jamaica constabulary force then, and he was nearing the end point of his illustrious career when a series of never before seen type of crimes started flaring up on the then rapidly developing Jamaican landscape, the commissioner wanted nothing more than to crack the case before he demits office, would he? One way to find out. There are lots of what you want to: see, hear, and feel in this book, we spared none of the gory details, lots of blood, thrills, spills, dark humor, and anecdotes. So, let's go: #backtothefutureagain

Here is an excerpt:
Count Lasco and his crew had being a regular, for many years on the guest list at the jet-set reception country club near Stinson pen. His entourage usually included the hippest and richest in the music (especially hip-hop,) and film (black film) industry.
It was not always the same modus-apparatus, where Lasco flies in with a bunch of his friends and cronies, and party till they drop, and then leave no, there was a particular style and flair to him and his clique. Lasco never did spend much time at the country club, He would just seem to use it as a means to access the special privileges which were afforded to the jet-setters, who was associated with the club. But he mostly used the club as well as its systems, for logistical purposes. It had been speculated that The Count has also been scamming the systems by selling or sub-letting certain privileges to other entities who got passed off as business partners and associates of his, when in fact he was actually peddling privileges to his so-called friends and business associates for big money and money only.
Kingston was jumping like a mountain toad in those days, it was the place to be. The Renaissance was in high gear then, and people were starting to feel upbeat and optimistic about the future. The conflict had taken a heavy toll on Europe and North America, but all that was behind them at this point. Africa too was being set up for the big take-off after much realignment and reassignment.
Jamaica was at that time, being highly touted as “the lost tribe of Africa,” and being strategically situated in a regional hub, she too was red hot and ready for the big times.
The 51st president: a woman, who was riding the high tide of popular approval after the dismal performances of those other two earlier bums, who for some yet unfathomable reasons, happened to occupy the white house before her.
48th wasn't half bad a president, he did try, but owing to the mood in the country at that time, and given the fact that the power base on the right was still very much strong and was on the attack, the poor guy didn't stand a chance in hell of making any gains.
Jamaica had just been favored with the enviable pleasure of hosting her very first Olympic summer games, and the reviews were still rolling in. The entire country breathed a collective sigh of relief.
They had done so very much better than was predicted by the naysayers throughout the sporting world, and even the local organizers and committee members, who was very apprehensive and edgy throughout the entire period while they were preparing and hosting the games, were relieved. After it was all over and done with, and all the rave reviews were coming in, everybody could just chill. And that’s just what they did in classic Jamaican style: “No problem mon.”
In that modern Jamaica, they had come to terms with over 90 years of tribalism, political fighting, and infighting, and the criminal class had given way to a brand new vibrant class of young professional and a savvy and sophisticated “other” class.
The Kingston trans-shipment wharves were doing brisk business, and foreign labor was then in very high demand.
This story was recorded for a travel magazine and told, as seen through the eyes of Jason and Irene Toppings, two Jamaicans from widely different backgrounds who came together in those times and started a family. Jason: a young University business major, and Irene: a journalist and second generation Ja-merican, whose paths happened to crossed when Irene; like a half a million other young people from around the world who went to Jamaica at the time for the 2052 summer Olympics, and many of whom had in addition to finding a rocking good time, also found love.

This story attempted to Chronicle the life and times of those two, on through to the point where they were found sitting in rocking chairs, in their hilltop luxury mansion overlooking the Caribbean Sea and reminiscing. Want more? 


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