A Deeper Love Inside: The Porsche Santiaga Story

( 202 )

Overview

THE SEQUEL MILLIONS OF READERS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR . . .

At last, mega-bestselling author Sister Souljah delivers the stunning sequel to The Coldest Winter Ever. Fierce, raw, and filled with adventure and emotional intensity, A Deeper Love Inside is an unforgettable coming-of-age story in the words of Porsche Santiaga, Winter’s younger sister.

Sharp-tongued, quick-witted Porsche worships her sister Winter. Cut from the same cloth as her ...

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A Deeper Love Inside: The Porsche Santiaga Story

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Overview

THE SEQUEL MILLIONS OF READERS HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR . . .

At last, mega-bestselling author Sister Souljah delivers the stunning sequel to The Coldest Winter Ever. Fierce, raw, and filled with adventure and emotional intensity, A Deeper Love Inside is an unforgettable coming-of-age story in the words of Porsche Santiaga, Winter’s younger sister.

Sharp-tongued, quick-witted Porsche worships her sister Winter. Cut from the same cloth as her father, Ricky Santiaga, Porsche is also a natural-born hustler. Passionate and loyal to the extreme, she refuses to accept her new life in group homes, foster care, and juvenile detention after her family is torn apart. Porsche—unique, young, and beautiful—cries as much as she fights and uses whatever she has to reclaim her status. Unselfish, she pushes to get back everything that ever belonged to her wealthy, loving family.

In A Deeper Love Inside, readers will encounter their favorite characters from The Coldest Winter Ever, including Winter and Midnight. Sister Souljah’s soulful writing will again move your heart and open your eyes to a shocking reality.

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Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble

In this standalone sequel to The Coldest Winter Ever, Porsche, the younger sister of Winter, takes center-stage. Her story is raw, often violent and yet at times extremely poignant. After bouncing from group homes and foster care to juvenile detention, Porsche escapes to a scattershot runaway life on an Indian reservation. Once again, Sister Souljah has created a powerful novel about life on the edge.

My Less Three
“It was a great followup and I highly recommend it.”
Tiffany Talks Books
“Well worth the wait.”
Literary Marie
“This is one sequel you cannot put down until the end.”
The Guardian Express
“Readers can expect another fine story as Sister Souljah writes in a heartfelt manner that will leave readers wanting more.”
Blogging With A Purpose
Readers are sure to be drawn to this coming-of-age story, told in Sister Souljah’s magnificent signature style”
Urban Reviews
“A thought provoking coming-of-age story that was definitely worth the wait.”
The GuardianExpress
“Readers can expect another fine story as Sister Souljah writes in a heartfelt manner that will leave readers wanting more.”
Library Journal
Everyone who knows and loves hip-hop star Sister Souljah's best-selling The Coldest Winter Ever will remember the beautiful, bedeviling Porsche Santiaga, Winter's little sister. Now Porsche gets her own story. Fans are waiting.
Kirkus Reviews
A novel that reads more like a memoir than fiction. The narrator talks the authentic talk of tough girls in the hood, although she continually protests that she "comes from money" and attaches inordinate significance to trivial fashion items like bags and boots. After her parents are arrested, this precocious 10-year-old girl is "kidnapped" by social services. When she takes offense at a remark made by a social worker about her mother, she stabs the woman in the neck with a sharpened No. 2 pencil in the neck and is thereafter incarcerated in a juvenile detention facility, where she meets and trades life stories with other inmates. All of the stories are horrific, some in predictable, stereotypical ways, some so idiosyncratic they could be based on that proverbial truth that is stranger than fiction. Although she is much younger than the others, she is recruited into a clique called The Diamond Needles by an older white girl, and together, they later escape and go to live on an Indian reservation with a woman the girl knows. The novel takes the reader into the moment-to-moment, day-to-day life of Porsche Santiaga from early childhood to young womanhood, a life of dancing, yearning for her family and mourning for her momma; a life of seeking and eventually discovering love. A book that will appeal to the author's many fans.
From the Publisher
"Sister Souljah has taken her talents from the stage to the page."
Essence

"The #1 author of the hip-hop generation."
— Sean "P. Diddy" Combs

"Winter is nasty, spoiled, and almost unbelievably libidinous, and it's ample evidence of the author's talent that she is also deeply sympathetic."
The New Yorker

"Winter is precious, babacious, and as tough as a hollow-point bullet."
Salon.com

"[Souljah] spread[s] messages that are clear, concise, and true to the game."
The Source

"Intriguing....Souljah exhibits a raw and true voice."
Publishers Weekly

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781439165317
  • Publisher: Atria/Emily Bestler Books
  • Publication date: 1/29/2013
  • Pages: 423
  • Sales rank: 94,894
  • Product dimensions: 6.00 (w) x 9.10 (h) x 1.30 (d)

Meet the Author

Sister Souljah

Sister Souljah is best known for her work as a political activist and educator of underclass urban youth. A graduate of Rutgers University, she is a beloved personality in her own community. She lives in Jersey City with her husband and son.

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Read an Excerpt

Deeper Love Inside


  • Not every bitch is a queen. Most chicks are just regular. Most of them know it and accept it, as long as nobody points it out. A queen is authentic, not because she says so, just because she is. A queen doesn’t have to say nothing. Everybody can see it, and feel it, too.

A bunch of bootleg girls been try’na come up. That’s what they supposed to try and do. But their borrowed, stolen style sucks cause it’s borrowed and stolen. A queen knows who she is, inside and out. She wouldn’t imitate anybody else. In fact, she creates original styles, waits for the bootleg bitches to catch on and copy, then switches, making their heads spin, eyes roll, and their short money pile disappear.

I’ma tell you what I hate first. Then Im’ma tell you what I love. Every word that I say is straight, cause I don’t have no time to play with you. The majority of my time is spent stacking my status and plotting to get back my stuff.

I hate conceited girls. They’re played out. You may think that I’m one of them, but there’s a difference between conceit and quality, or should I say conceit and truth. Matter of fact, some of the ugliest females I know are conceited. We living at a point where this shit is all mixed up on purpose. The ugly ones pretend they look good, when everything they got is cheap and fake, including their personalities. The pretty ones play themselves down, cause jealousy is more realer than the air we suck in and blow back out. I, Porsche L. Santiaga, am a real, real pretty bitch. I try my best to stay in my lane and mind my own business, to keep all the envious ones from talking shit, mobbing up and jumping me.

It isn’t easy being the sister of a queen. Naturally, I look up to her. But still, I gotta be me. Imitation gets no respect. I would never live my life trying to look like or be someone else. Regarding my sister, Winter Santiaga, every day for eight years I had my big brown eyes trained on her. She’s a queen, not because she’s beautiful, which is automatic, not because she’s a badass, with endless styles and personality, not because she’s my older sister, my mother’s best friend, and my father’s most loved jewel. None of those are the reasons.

Ricky Santiaga has four daughters. His firstborn, Winter, seemed to have occupied his whole heart. My handsome father was not to blame. Everyone loved her. When she was in a crowded room, everyone was looking her way or trying to stand or sit right beside her. Even in our home she soaked up all the love, as though she were the only child. But she wasn’t the only child.

Me, I’m the “middle daughter.” Maybe you know a little something about how that goes. Everyone’s eyes were either on the oldest daughter, because her young figure was ripe and ready, her eyes so mischievous, and her face so feminine and perfect that they were all scared she might get pregnant. Or, their eyes would be on the youngest, because they are the babies and they might get hurt.

The middle girl is too young to be fucking and too old to be falling down. So everyone forgets where she is and what she’s doing. I got mixed feelings about being invisible. There are benefits. I can’t lie. But sometimes, quietly, I was yearning for Poppa and Momma to pay more attention to me simply because their love for me was as true and as strong as my love for each of them. I didn’t want to have to beg them for love. I didn’t like the idea of having to be annoying to get attention or having to make a dramatic or phony scene. I hate pretense.

Winter was a queen in my younger eyes because she didn’t have to ask for love, but she was always receiving it. When she did receive it, no one cared if she returned it. They loved her whether she loved them or not. She didn’t seek attention. She commanded it. Winter had the best of everything without working or obeying. Her friends, who were coming and calling constantly, surrounded my sister. Even my young friends wanted to grow up to be Winter. My old aunties wish they could be young again only to try to look and live like Winter.

More than that, in my younger eyes, Winter was above pain and punishment and mostly no one else in the world can claim that. In the chaos of any crisis she walked in looking good, stylish, clean, and untouched. She’d shift her pretty eyes right and then to the left and come up with the swiftest plan, which only she knew the details of.

I was home when they arrested my father. Winter wasn’t. I was left at home when they arrested my mother. Winter wasn’t. I was home when the kidnappers, “social services,” snatched up me, Lexy, and Mercedes. Winter wasn’t. We three sisters were separated and trapped in the system. Winter wasn’t.

In fact, Winter and Momma came to check me one time at a “state-supervised visit,” where I was being held and watched over by the kidnappers. When they walked in, my beautiful momma’s head was shaved bald. Shocked for some seconds, I still wanted to hug her and have her hug me back tight enough to signal to me silently that she knew that this shit was all wrong. That she would take me back home with her.

Momma’s eyes were filled with rage and sorrow. Winter looked rich. She was sparkling and free, like she had a thousand little light-bulbs outlining her entire body. Her caramel-colored skin was glowing. Her hair was fresh, soft, long, and second only to her pretty face. She looked unbreakable, untouched, and unaffected. Then it was confirmed in my eyes on that exact day, that Winter was straight royalty, above everyone else who suffered on a regular, including now my momma and me. That so-called visit was the first time I saw my mother and sister after being tooken, and the last time I saw both of them together ever again.

I miss Momma so much I ache, like when you have vomited to the end and there’s nothing else to throw up. Only a thick yellow fluid comes out, that one nurse said is called bile. Have you ever been in the emergency room strapped to a bed, screaming out “Momma” 156 times, “Poppa” seventy-seven times, and “I want to go home” thirty-three times?

As for Poppa, six one, light-skinned, strong, and suave with not even a teaspoon of bitch in him, no man on earth is better than him. Momma is like a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing morning. Poppa is like a cup of black tea with a whole lot of heavy cream mixed in. Dark and light, they complemented one another.

Winter was the best parts of both of them, all in one. I love her, and fuck anybody else who doesn’t, no matter his or her reason.

Listen when I tell you, I am 100 percent loyalty. If you can count, you’d know that there’s nothing left over from that.

Unique, I know I’m different from her, but we sisters. We’re full blood related. So I’m royal. I inherited these looks. Like Winter and Momma, my beauty is undeniable, captivating, and offensive to many. No, I’m not light-skinned. Stop that silly shit, as if there is only one shade to be deeply admired. I’m honey-brown like an expensive Godiva that can only be purchased in a specialty shop. My brown-gold eyes are outlined with a thin black line that circles around the pupil, like an exotic bird. When people first notice them, they pause and look again.

Every day I fight. Not because of anything I did, just because of who I am naturally. I fight young angry bitches cause they wish they had these same eyes and can’t get comfortable until they poke mines out. My skin is flawless like satin, or an unaffordable diamond. I’m a dancer, not a stuck-up ballerina or a fucking stripper. Back on our Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, block I had an all-girls dance crew. We used to rock. We even won first place at our block party over some girls that was older than us. People were amazed at how our young bodies could bend and move, flow, bounce, and shake like we knew shit we couldn’t possibly have known, and experienced shit that none of us had experienced yet. We tore it up, moving to a Rob Base throwback titled “It Takes Two.” That night, Momma placed her hands on my hips and said I would grow up to be her “moneymaker.” I liked the feeling that I was doing something that made Momma look my way for more than a few moments, and believe in me.

My hair is black. It grew from my own scalp and lays on my back. Momma says it’s long because I’m loved. She says, “Other bitches don’t know or don’t want to keep their daughter’s hair clean, oiled, combed, conditioned, and clipped.” Back then Momma would say, “If you see a bald bitch she’s unloved. Or, she cut her hair off because she don’t want to be loved. Or, she cut it off because she ran up on some rotten love.”

Me, I know mine is real nice, but I don’t worship my hair. I keep it neat and never throw it in nobody’s face. Apparently that ain’t enough. In a two-year stretch, I had seventeen fights. Nine of them were brawls over hair, with half-bald bitches with homemade weapons. I fought a conceited ugly girl named Cha-Cha four out of the nine hair fights. In arts ’n crafts class, I grabbed the one pair of scissors shared by twenty girls and chained to the desktop, and cut off my hair and gave it to her, so she could stop fucking sweating me. She wore my hair braided into single box braids on her head the next day.

I didn’t say anything to her. I had gotten comfortable with my short cut overnight. Then she got mad cause I wasn’t mad. So she fought me again. The authorities, that’s what we call them, they locked me up in isolation for fighting. Every time they act like they don’t know what the fight is all about. Every time they act like we fifty/fifty involved in the fight when they know damn well that chick hates herself and is gonna fight till somebody kills her and puts her out of misery.

Even with my wrists locked and my ankles chained, headed to isolation, I don’t react. They release me into that little space butt-naked. Then I dance. Repetition makes my legs beautiful, strong, and tight. I don’t eat, so I don’t have no body fat. I taught myself to accept hunger, cause people try to use it against you when they think they got something you really need, even if it’s only a sandwich. I dance until I’m drenched. The music plays in my head, sounding crisp like it did back in Brooklyn. I stop when I collapse. Then, I wake up in another wing with a tube in my arm and a bad-breath nurse faking concern and whispering something like, “You could’ve died last night.” I close my eyes and wish I had enough fluids in my mouth to spit on her, just to clear my throat.

When they would bring me back into the population mix with the rest of the bitches, 522 of them to be exact, I’d see most of the girls from my section gasp like they seen a ghost. I know certain ones of them won’t be happy until they slit my perfect skin open, or at least put a permanent stamp on it. That’s why I plot.

In one of the monthly head sessions they make us have, one of my enemies told the therapist that she fights me because I think I’m better. I told her she fights me because she thinks I’m better. These regular bitches don’t get it. It’s not my hair or eyes or legs or none of that bullshit that makes me who I am, plain and simple. It’s that I’m Porsche L. Santiaga, born rich. My daddy was rich. My momma was rich. My sisters were rich. I’m not gonna act like a regular bitch when I was born royal. They never had nothing, so they don’t know no better. They got nothing to miss. I had a queen-sized bed when I was seven years old. Even before then, back in Brooklyn at my sister’s sixteenth birthday celebration at Moe’s, in the dead of the winter season, my whole family was styling. I rocked a three-quarter mink, and mink earmuffs, and a mink muffler instead of gloves.

I have a mother who taught me the difference between everything cheap and high quality. I had three sisters, all dimes living swolled in a beautiful Long Island palace. The last thing my poppa promised me was a pony so I could trot around our property. It’s the police who are the criminals, kidnappers, and thieves. The authorities know the deal, they all in it together.

That’s why I jammed the sharpened number two pencil in my caseworker’s neck as she was driving me in her state-owned vehicle. She tried to say something slick about my family, about Winter in particular. I don’t play that shit. “Family sticks together.”

If a bitch believed she could say something rude about a Santiaga out loud and in my face, I obviously wasn’t on my J.O.B.

Now I don’t know if I was trying to kill her. I just wanted the bitch to pay attention to what I had been telling her for many months. I am Porsche L. Santiaga, sister to Winter Santiaga, the twins, Lexus and Mercedes Santiaga. Brooklyn-born, we chill now in a Long Island mansion. Stop driving me around and dropping me off to the broke, broken, perverted, ugly-ass, foster-care providers and introducing me to strangers who wanna pretend to be my parents. I don’t pretend at nothing. I don’t like fake shit. Take me home. I have a house and a family. I told her clearly in a respectful tone. I recited to her my exact Long Island address.

“You shouldn’t look up to a girl like Winter, even though she is your real sister,” the bitch said one autumn morning when I was seated and trapped in the back seat of her state vehicle, where I had been seated and trapped many times. She must of felt good and big about herself with her files filled up with dirty talk about my real life, and her folded newspaper that must have reported some lies that she decided to believe. So, she started saying something foul.

“Winter,” my caseworker said, referring to my well-loved sister . . . .

My caseworker is paralyzed now. So she got a lot of time to sit still and think about all the lies she been telling little kids, about taking them to live in a better place, in better circumstances. She knew what the fuck was up. She’d say and do anything, no matter how evil it was as long as they paid her to do it. She’d drop me off anywhere, including hell, and leave me with anyone including the motherfucking devil, even if she knew for sure I was in serious danger. As long as that was the address printed on her paper, she’d leave me without looking back. So they got me locked up in juvy. It’s better than playing house. Everything is clear in here, the way I prefer things to be. No one is pretending to love me, or the rest of us. We damn sure ain’t pretending to love them or each other either. In here, there’s only friends and enemies, no in-between.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 202 )
Rating Distribution

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(104)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 202 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 4, 2013

    I continue to be a huge fan of "The Coldest Winter Ever&quo

    I continue to be a huge fan of "The Coldest Winter Ever". The fast-paced, drama-filled life of Winter Santiaga was one non-stop roller coaster ride until the very end. Tightly written, brimming with tension, disappointments, danger, and constant genius plot pivots, "Coldest Winter" is still the undisputed #1 street lit book ever written.

    Okay, so the bottom line is...if you buy "A Deeper Love Inside", understand that you will read something different than "Coldest Winter". Not necessarily bad. Just different. The marketing material (and I blame the book advertisers for this), bills this as THE sequel to "Coldest Winter". This is simply not true. While it is related to Winter's story, it does not come anywhere close to being the sequel.

    The plot is paced differently than "Coldest Winter" You will read a slower-paced, less detail-filled, less action-packed story. While there is action, a lot of it is told in flashback, commentary mode (lots of telling, but not as much showing). For example, instead of starting the book with Porsche's detailed view of the night the police took her father (which I think would have been a brilliant beginning), it started with Porsche's opinion on women.

    Another difference you will notice is structure. "Coldest Winter" used a straight-forward story-telling approach (starts with Winter as a young teen, then ends after her 18th birthday). "A Deeper Love" was a little confusing, because Porsche starts out sounding like an older teenager talking about "queens", then we read about her being 10, then 8 when she goes to juvy, then 10 when she meets Riot.

    Another jarring point was the voice issues. The whole time she uses the same voice which makes her sound about 19 years old throughout. While you will understand the story, the idea of a very young child using extremely mature commentary is a little unsettling. It's kind of hard to be world-weary at the ripe old age of 10, unless your parents were so unwise that you had to raise yourself (cook, clean, shop, etc.). Since we all know this was not the case (Porsche's mother and father DID raise and care for her until the drug raid), that makes the "mature as street kid" view kind of hard to digest. Also, a young girl who stabs her caseworker in the neck, paralyzes her, and does not care is a psychopath, not a hero - so this fact made it hard for me to root for Porsche. (Yes, in "Coldest Winter", Winter did go upside an old lady's head with a sock full of rocks, but that was so far into the story that her desperation drove her to it.).

    Anyway, all that being said, "A Deeper Love Inside" is the story of Porsche Santiaga. It is not Winter Santiaga. It is not Winter's voice or a continuation of her fascinating story. Period. If you are hoping to read this book to bring that tension-filled, gut-clenching, rollercoaster ride feeling back, that won't happen. However, if you are looking to find out what happened to Porsche and how she feels about it, go on and read and enjoy this book.

    Authors do change their styles all the time. It is possible that Sistah Souljah's writing journey has taken her to the place where she wants to write about characters and their thoughts rather than write in an action-paced, non-stop plot change fashion. Both types of artistry are fine. As the reader though, you can decide which type you would like to read.

    54 out of 57 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 9, 2013

    Disappointed is an understatement

    I am a huge fan of Sister Souljah's work. I started off with No Disrespect and then the Coldest Winter ever and those were both phenomenal books. I even enjoyed the Midnight books. However this book was disturbing, slow, uneventful, depressing and simply feels thrown together. On the 200th page i was still waiting for it to get good. It never did. It was painful to read. I do not recommend this book. I recommend all of her books except this one. I was truly disappointed and i want my money back i feel robbed.

    23 out of 23 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 3, 2013

    Disappointing and badly written

    After years of waiting for an official sequel I was very disappointed in what was thrown together by Sister Souljah. I wish she would've just waited until she had a better story to tell. Like her Midnight series, the story she weaves of pre-teen romance and business savy is so unbelievable the story becomes a painful read. I loved Coldest Winter Ever but I am so disappointed that I may finally have to give up hope that Sister Souljah will be able to bring out anything new and worth reading.

    21 out of 22 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 19, 2012

    bosslady

    I have not read it yet but if its half as good as coldest winter ever its going to be great #.. i cant wait to read it

    21 out of 46 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 31, 2013

    Just finished the book and I must say I was not impressed. As al

    Just finished the book and I must say I was not impressed. As always Souljah is a talented writer and the book is well written, it just doesn't read like a sequel to me. Not at all what I was expecting. IIf you enjoyed the midnight books then you will probably love this as well. However as a HUGE coldest winter ever fan, it leaves a lot to be desired. 

    15 out of 15 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 31, 2013

    For the most part the Porsche story was depressing, it was sad.

    For the most part the Porsche story was depressing, it was sad. It left me feeling bummed. Then I kept having to ask myself how old is she again in this part because her thought process was way advanced for any kid her age that I know, hood kids at that. The ending I guess is what you would consider a happy ending??? Not sure, but I was rolling my eyes at how unrealistic it was. I thought Winters story was more realistic and so was her mind set, but then again I read and loved the coldest winter ever back when I was in middle school. So maybe it's me and my mind set has changed. Maybe if I would have read this with my teenage mind I'd give it five stars. But I have to give it 3 stars because I'm indifferent.
    However, I do appreciate the insight the author gave me on children with mental illness. It allowed me to see the world thru a para schizophrenic eyes. I feel like I can better understand there struggles and I would be more sensitive to the issue.
    On another note, why do sister souljah keep writing book from children's point of view??? After the books about Midnight, and now this, I started skipping thru the sexual parts. It made me uneasy, because I was getting moved by the words, but then I quickly remembered these are children... I'm not supposed to feel this way.
    Well if she continues to develop her characters in different book, I hope she takes her readers into consideration.... Some of us have matured since the coldest winter ever. However, if she is trying the get new readers, she can keep writing from a child's point of view. I hope the next midnight book explores him as an adult, and not as a married teenager. I'd like to read the story from Ricky's point of view, or maybe Mommas. If she writes it from the twins point of view, please don't have them hunching.

    13 out of 13 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 7, 2013

    It is definitely not a sequel.

    To date, I have read all of Sister Souljah's books and I must say, this one was disappointing. It was a mishmash of different thought. This was Porsche's story, but it was not well written.

    I expected there to be flow and consistency; there was not. The story jumps ahead at awkward moments and I was often lost.

    Coldest Winter Ever was incredible and I enjoyed both Midnight books (despite the repition.) This book was undeniably bad. I'm saddened by this not only because I paid for the book, but also because there was the potential there to be a good book.

    Disappointed.

    9 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 31, 2013

    She's Beautiful.  And Porsche Santiaga's beauty saves her.  When

    She's Beautiful.  And Porsche Santiaga's beauty saves her.  When we first meet her in the juvenile detention center she doesn't sound beautiful.  In fact the story of how she came to be there is horrific and almost makes you want to close your eyes, turn away, and give up on this obviously "lost cause".  But if you make it to Chapter 2 you cant help but see the love rooted inside her, begging to be nurtured so that it can bloom.  
    Sister Souljah bravely tackles the issue of mental health in this story.  Especially in the black community It is very taboo and not often talked about or treated, yet most of us know someone who's a little bit "off".  When Porsche creates and introduces us to her second personality, we readers gradually come to understand her function and the truth of her nonexistence and it doesn't distract us from the story at all.  Masterfully done.
    As we follow Porche through her daring escape, time on an Indian reservation, and eventually back to her drug addicted mother, we hurt for her, with her, and ultimately root for her as she grows, matures, and eventually finds a love of her own.  We breathe a collective sigh of relief each time a new protector shows up in her life and we applaud each and every tiny victory in her life that keeps her from succumbing to the horrors that surround her.    Most importantly, we appreciate hearing the gritty truth and that Souljah doesn't turn this into a fake "happily ever after tale".   
    Porsche story is both a cautionary tale and a ray of hope for those who wonder if the Winters of the world can be saved.  Its a guide to surviving the coldest winters of life.  She is lovely but not conceited. Loyal but wise.  Bent but never broken.  It seems that every crossroads Porche arrives at, her steps are guided down the correct path where Winter barreled head first down the wrong one.  Hers is a story of choices properly made and opportunities not missed.  A story of love freely and honestly given and the healing power of its yield.  It's a beautiful story.

    7 out of 8 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 3, 2013

    Anticipation turned epic fail..

    Like most people that have followed this trendy (and long awaited) saga with the Santiaga's, I could hardly wait to turn the pages of "A Deeper Love Inside." I admit that it had been years since I'd read TCWE, so I decided to brush up on the few final chapters before I started this one. The beginning of the book was very characteristic of the author; the eb and flow; the "feel" of what the book was portraying was what I was used to. To move on to the content of the book itself, I was very shocked at the actual age of Porsche in comparison to the life experiences being told in the book. Now I understand that kids grow up fast, but not THIS fast. Considering that the setting was placed back in the early 90's it was a tad of from reality. Throughout the book, Porsche accomplishes some unbelievable things; and i mean unbelievable. She raised $50,000 of her own money before the mere age of 14 or so, took care of drug-addicted mother, was not traditionally educated in school, and was able to duck under the noses of seemingly level-headed adults for years and years without question. This just isn't possible! I did appreciate how the author gave Elisha a dream, and he followed through with it. Though quite a fairytale (and I get that this i fiction), it does encourage readers to hope. Lastly the multiple personalities that made Porsche; Siri and Ivory; I found myself confused. I gathered that Ivory wasn't, but Siri was another person within Porsche all this time? The book started out SO slow, then suddenly speeds up! When the "dark, handsome fellow" (won't reveal his name) finds Porsche to reveal her past in living color, I was confused as to whether ANY of the stories had happened or if she was only DREAMING about all of those events. The gentleman says that she was released from an institution after being expelled from the juvenile prison. So did the Indian Reservation ever happen? Because I could not really place the validity of the book's events in a chronicological fashion, it made this a difficult read. Somewhere, there is a disconnection. As we know with SS, her lead characters are usually very young in age and they lead very extravagant, unimaginable lives. This was nothing new, however because of the age and events that happen with her characters, one question leads to other questions. Some we cannot answer which ultimately starts to crumble to story altogether. We barely got a real glimpse into Winter's story, and top things off, this story was a challenge to follow. It definitely was not a "cover-to-cover" read that one is thirsty to finish in a couple days. I gave 1 star because I bought the book, and another star simply out of respect for SS. I can read TCWE 4 and 5 times over front to back, but this one I will never pick up again.

    6 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 10, 2013

    Amazing

    This story is a very good sequal. I wished winter had more dialogue in story but its really interesting and, you learn so much more about thier and family and just life tips im gerneral. I suggest everyone to read this book!

    6 out of 6 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 2, 2013

    Beautifully Written

    I found this book to be even more moving than its predecessor!! At the end of 'The Coldest Winter Ever' when everyone was at the gravesite, I assumed Porsche succeeded where Winter didn't. I absolutely LOVE this story. If you're expecting Winter's story with more crazy drama, don't read it. It tells the story from Porsche's view from the time their dad was arrested. It is NOT about Winter.

    4 out of 5 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 6, 2013

    This book was horrible and I'm so disappointed. I really looked

    This book was horrible and I'm so disappointed. I really looked forward to reading this since I really enjoyed The Coldest Winter Ever. It seemed that the plot was thrown together, characters introduced that had nothing to do with anything, and just long drawn out scenes. I found myself skipping page after page after page. I was not impressed with this book.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 4, 2013

    As much as I wanted to love A Deeper Love Inside, I just could n

    As much as I wanted to love A Deeper Love Inside, I just could not. Don't get me wrong, I still believe Sista Soulja is one of the best African American writers of our generation but for a 14 year hiatus this book definitely could have been better. The story itself was touching but it seems to me that Sista Soulja has some strange obsession with polygamy and teen marriages. The "multiple" relationships are so off kilter that they threw the storyline off for me. Her writing style was much the same as The Coldest Winter Ever which I thought was odd because of how Midnight: A Gangsta Love Story was written. Porsche's character in this book was way different from the Porsche we were introduced to in The Coldest Winter Ever. Once again found myself disappointed in Sista Soulja's incomplete/inadequate writing. I thought to give her another try after Midnight but the combination of two books that appeared to have been rushed and sloppily thrown together have dissuaded me from continuing the journey with her. Much love and respect to Soulja, I just feel like after more than a 10 year break with your fans waiting, this could have been way better. 

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 3, 2013

    Not too pleased

    This book was well written but I was expecting winter 2.0. Reading about someone who has a mental illness was intetesting but lets be real Porshe needs professional help to deal with some things. And both becoming millionaires while they were teenagers???? Come on... some parts just seemed too unrealistic. I didnt expect her to be just like Winter but Im tired and wanted something different from how she wrote Midnights story.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 25, 2013

    STILL WAITING ON MY COPY.......HEMINGWAY OF THE HOOD. LOVE U GIR

    STILL WAITING ON MY COPY.......HEMINGWAY OF THE HOOD. LOVE U GIRL. KEEP EM COMMING BIG UP AND MAD LOVE MANY BLESSINGU R THE COLDEST WRITER EVER!!!

    3 out of 11 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 5, 2013

    Disappointment

    I am a huge fan of street lit and I have read the coldest winter ever more than once, I was disappointed with the Midnight series as well as this one. Souljah needs to head back to the streets of Harlem and get connected again.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 14, 2013

    I love this book. What I want people to realize is that this was

    I love this book. What I want people to realize is that this was Porschas story not Winters, The book is not called The Coldest Winter Ever part 2. This book was everything to me. A true modern day love story. Great job!!!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 1, 2013

    Couldn't finish

    This was bad. Couldn't even get through it. Liked The Coldest Winter Ever but this was unbearable

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2013

    Horrible!

    This book was horrible... A true waste of money! The book was definitely not a sequel to The Coldest Winter Ever... Porsche was a child through the majority of the book. The book didn't flow well and was very choppy. There were a lot of confusing portions of the book (Siri, Diamond Needles, etc). Overall, I was very disappointed!

    2 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2013

    What a Roller Coaster

    This book was slow at first and then it ended with a Bang!!!!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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