Seeds in the Concrete by L. Joevon

Seeds in the Concrete by L. Joevon

L. Joevon

Regular price $40.00 Sale

Seeds in the concrete is a thrilling read abput defying the odds and finding love This book also doubles as an album with an original song written by the author embedded after several chapters. You won't want to put this one down!



Preview Sample

As if she’d forgotten where she was, she said “Oh... um... Brooklyn! Crown Heights, Brooklyn...” She was hesitant about the street.

I saved her. “I’ll tell you where to turn once we cross the Brooklyn Bridge.”

Ayana grew quiet and looked deep in thought. I didn’t know if it was the phone call she’d just ignored or the fact that she was in the cab with me going to her place. I didn’t intend to inquire about her residence, but I was concerned.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Um yeah... I’m fine.”

“So you from Brooklyn? You never came off as... you know...”

“Yeah... tonight was full of surprises.” She looked me up and down in a thoughtful manner. Then silence. I wanted to say something to her. I grew curious of her thoughts. I saw her looking down at her hands as she played with her African Bracelet. I looked out the window at the rapidly passing highway lights of the FDR. The Radio in the cab played a soothing melody, but it was too low to figure out the song. Suddenly, she spoke.

“So... was that song you wrote for L Joevon about your girlfriend or ex-flame?” she said, still staring at the sparkling night through the window. I watched the city lights softly dance off her face.

“No...!” I replied, watching her turn towards me slowly. Then I told the truth. “It... it was about my meetings on Sundays.” She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth slightly, without letting a word fall out. I asked, “Remember that day we first talked? You were showing me the poetry section?”

“Yeah... and the Sister Souljah attempt?” She already knew what I was hitting for. Her smile confirmed it.

I chuckled. “Yeah... I was plotting on you. But I began writing it after you crossed my path after the day you kicked me out of the bookstore. You just said “hello” with a smile that wore red candy and kept walking.” I felt warmer as the conversation grew.

With a suppressed smile, she leaned in with her finger to my face. “So you stalking me, Lance?” Then she rested her forearm on my shoulder. I gave her my “Don’t get beside yourself” look then said, “Nah, I just write what I see in life. And that’s what I saw at the moment.” We gazed a second. She let her arm drop gently off my shoulder, and her hand brushed against mine on the leather seat on the cab, leaving a delicate finger on the side of my pinky. I slid her hand in mine. She felt soft and warm from the light perspiration in her palms.

We enjoyed the silence.

Ayana laid her head on my shoulder. I was deep in my thoughts until I realized we’d just crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. I nudged her to tell her that we were in Brooklyn, and she sat up and looked at me with odd suspicion. “Um...” She hesitated. “Take Eastern Parkway to Utica Avenue,” she said to the cabbie, laying her head back on my shoulder. We rode in silence, enjoying the comfort of one another.

“Right here. You can let me out right here.” She began to dig in her purse, but I stopped her from paying. I gave the cabbie a twenty-dollar bill and told him to wait.

As we get out, her phone began to vibrate. She didn’t answer. A thought of suspicion came into my mind, but I felt it wasn’t my place to ask.

“Well I’ma get going... It’s getting late.” She allowed her eyes to linger down to her oxfords.

“Yeah... It’s time you go.” I was close enough to kiss her. I eased in, but decided not to and wrapped my arms around her waist for a close hug. Just as we began to break apart, fire ran through my body as her ear slowly brushed against my neck. We were face to face. Fuck it. I kissed her. Those lips were softer than a smile. My mouth took in her top lip just enough to taste it. We let go and stared. We both didn’t want to leave, but consideration ruled. She broke from my grasp. She turned, and as always, she left me in my thoughts. This time, though, she turned back to me, smiled, and waved good-bye.


Before you believe in God, you should believe in yourself. Only you can choose Heaven, God will only help you along the way. Here is the ambitious story of Lance, a half-black, half-Italian, who resides in Marcus Garvey Projects in Brooklyn. He is an emotional and passionate young man, with an unlimited ambition to be a successful writer in all facets. He is a representation of the average American who may face many obstacles, while chasing a bright future and running from a dark past. His heart is big, though he is chained down by his ignorance. He has never laid eyes on his father, but despises the very sound of his name.

Like his father, Lance is enthused by the taste of women, but he also has no value for them. He makes his judgments based on what he sees and what he experiences. Lance is scared of commitment and the power of women in general, until one woman engulfed him, while penetrating his barrier. Her name is Ayana.

Ayana is a woman of self-love, and she loves everything that is capable of it. She is strong, but sensitive. She values education and other forms of growth. She works hard to be nothing like her mother, Suzette, who lacks inner beauty and self-value. Their mother doesn’t value Ayana and her little brother Milo. They are sold to their uncle, Frank, as sexual toys for rent and living expenses. After being sent to foster care, Ayana finds the keys to escape her nightmares through school and self-evaluation. She tries to make Milo see life the way that she does. However, when you put more value into someone who doesn’t value him or herself, it can pull you down to their level. Milo begins to suck the life out of his sister. How can Ayana continue to elevate herself, when the ones she loves are beginning to be too heavy for her to carry? Should she continue to struggle and cater to Milo’s wishes? Or should she move on to conquer her own dreams?

Like Ayana, Lance is swimming against life’s currents in order to get to where he strives to be. He does what he feels is right, but in all the wrong ways. He feels that a part-time, minimum wage job is not going to get him where he wants to be. He feels he has to be in the game, just not as deep as others are, in order to progress and be safe. He keeps this life secret from his family, school and friends at the studio where he is interning. He is heavily, influenced by his environment. His childhood friends seem to be successful in the streets. Chase is modest about it, Chrome is flamboyant, and YB looks up to all three of them. Though water and oil don't mix, oil tends to float to the surface and reveal itself. Death is the father of revenge. Lance eventually must make a choice between Life and Death.

Lance and Ayana come together with their fears and their goals to become one, as a baby enters the world. Lance has a dream to be the father he never had, and he lets his ambition drive him without any direction. Bad choices are made based on his views, morals and principles. Through all these obstacles, something drastic and permanent happens which is Heaven and Hell at the same time.

This story is a tale of resilience, learning and recovering from mistakes. It is about faith, hope, and most of all, Love. This is a rebirth to its greatest stature, as when a boy becomes a man, and when that man turns on the lights to chase away the darkness in his mind by re-evaluating himself. SEEDS IN THE CONCRETE is a thriller, a drama, a mystery, and an over all Love story in redemption. This is a story to inspire people to never be something they are not, but become everything they can. Enjoy.


About L. Joevon

Born in Brooklyn, New York, L. Joevon professionally known as the 8rooklyn 8atman currently lives and produces in New York City as a writer with various artistic abilities. His creativity helped him endure many of the obstacles he faced by escaping the reality of his life. L was raised by a single misguided mother until the age of seven. Growing up in a broken home generated a lot of misguided confusion and anger. After going through eight foster homes, he realized he needed to find a way to cope with his pain. His outlet became art.

With no family to trust. L found one within the New York City Crip Gang where he was praised for his loyalty and support. His commitment to the streets built his rep and landed him in incarceration at the ripe age of 17. After his short stay, he was approached with the opportunity to be a hype-man for the hip-hop groups Re-Up Gang and Cult Team. Having his foot in the door, L. Joevon found a new love for music and the industry. At the age of 19, while creating a mixtape under a different alias, L was gunned down in an attack that nearly took his life. Despite the odds, he got back on his feet and completed the album with conscience filled raps based on the truths he witnessed in his neighborhood. In less than two months, he sold over 2,000 copies of his first mixtape “Ethiopian”.

L. Joevon performed in local underground spots that landed him a management deal. Unfortunately, L experienced the manipulation of power over talented individuals in the industry. He was faced with a decision to make; either become a puppet for funding, or take his career into his own hands. L chose to defend himself, and was faced with three years of incarceration. During his time, he started using his creative mind to escape the reality he was facing.

L received news from an ex-girlfriend that he had a son. Grief consumed him as L felt responsible for becoming an absent father. He wrote Seeds in the Concrete along with multiple songs inspired by his time in solitary confinement. He found answers to problems through autonomy, and used that to create an ultimate new reality to live in. He studied business, philosophy, and the arts. Through this L found that the greatest and most vital tool was love.

L. Joevon is currently being managed by Am’I ( Autonomy Manifested, Inc.) He is working hard to craft an innovative and creative project. Through Seeds in the Concrete, L. Joevon is hoping to inspire others to be the seed growing from the concrete.