Around the Way Girls 2

About This Audiobook

La Jill Hunt’s *Around the Way Girls 2* crackles with the unfiltered energy of a Brooklyn block party, where every story feels like a whispered secret from the stoop. These aren’t just tales about life in the hood—they’re living, breathing slices of Black womanhood, rich with humor, heartache, and the kind of grit that only comes from generations of pavement-pounding survival. Hunt’s characters aren’t painted in broad strokes; they’re raw, contradictory, and unforgettable, from the corner-store hustler with a heart of gold to the single mom juggling dreams and bills with zero sleep. The short story format keeps the pacing snappy, packing emotional punches in under ten pages—perfect for listeners who crave depth without the slog of a novel.

Honey Jones’ narration is the secret sauce here, transforming each voice into a distinct character without resorting to gimmicks. Her cadence mimics the lilt of Brooklyn streets, where words roll off the tongue like honey but carry the weight of a challenge. The production is crisp, letting Hunt’s sharp dialogue and vivid imagery shine, though a few tracks could use more dynamic range to separate the ensemble cast. It’s an immersive experience that makes you feel like you’ve been handed a plate of jerk chicken at a late-night block gathering—you won’t want to leave the table."

"review": "I’ll admit, I was skeptical going in: another anthology about Black women’s lives, but how much could it really vary from the first book? Well, *Around the Way Girls 2* proves Hunt’s talent lies in her razor-sharp specificity. The story about the retired schoolteacher turned underground bookie in “Miss Ella’s B-B-Q” alone is worth the price of admission—Hunt walks the line between pathos and comedy so effortlessly you’ll find yourself cackling one moment and gasping the next. Honey Jones, meanwhile, deserves an Emmy. Her voice work on the character of Tasha, a 19-year-old mom navigating a toxic relationship, is so nuanced I swear I could hear the exhaustion in her laughter. The only misstep? The audiobook’s volume levels dip slightly during quieter scenes, which threw me out of the immersion a few times.

What lingers is Hunt’s refusal to romanticize struggle. In “Candy’s Last Stand,” a stripper’s hustle isn’t glamorized—it’s a means to an end, full of small, relatable victories and setbacks that feel achingly real. The pacing is tight, but a couple of stories (looking at you, “The Plumber’s Fix”) felt truncated, leaving me wanting more meat on the bone. Still, this isn’t just a collection—it’s a love letter to resilience, and Jones’ narration makes it sing. If you’re the kind of listener who wants stories that hit like a gut punch but leave you grinning, this is your next obsession."

"tags": ["Black women's fiction anthologies