Game Over by Winter Ramos
Winter Ramos, one of the new faces of VH1’s hit reality television show, Love and Hip Hop New York Season 3 delivers a brazen and unabashed memoir of her life in the world of hip hop. In Game Over Winter puts all of her emotions on the page—leaving no experience, emotional abuse, or former lover uncovered. From her days as assistant to Fabolous and “friend” to Jada Kiss, to appearing on Love and Hip Hop and being Creative Costume Designer for Flavor unit Films, Winter delivers “a tell-all book on her roster of famous ex-boyfriends and her life in the music industry (MadameNoire.com).”
As the chick that was always in the mix and “cool” with everyone, Winter was privy to the cray beyond the videos, private flights, and limos that the cameras caught for us. Her reality and theirs was no game. Game Over is Winter’s cautionary tale for the next generation of young women who believe that the fabulous lives of celebrities unveiled in blogs and on reality television shows are all FIRE! Brace yourself, because this GAME is about to get real.
Meet the Author
Winter Ramos hails from Brooklyn New York where she was born and raised. Introduced to the world of Hip Hop at an early age she has worked behind the scenes in the Hip Hop industry for more than 10 years and has consulted as a wardrobe stylist for labels such as Ruff Ryders, Murder Inc. Full Surface, and Def Jam.
She is mostly known for her position as executive assistant to platinum recording artist Fabolous and executive assistant to the CEO of Slip-N-Slide Records Ted Lucas. Currently Winter holds the title of Creative Costume Designer for Flavor Unit Films and is a cast member on Season 3 of Love & Hip Hop- New York. Her tell-all book, titled “Game Over” about her experiences in the world of Hip Hop has both rappers and industry executives shaking in their boots. In her spare time Winter enjoys speaking to youth about their life choices.
Excerpt for Game Over by Winter Ramos
Once again the words passion, excitement, desire and joy all filled my gut the moment my plane landed. That’s what I’d always read love was supposed to feel like. This was it. He was the one. The man who’d swept me off my feet….in private of course. Our relationship had been kept hush hush to both the public and his fans, and only a select few knew of our rendezvous. So the Vegas trip was well needed. One potential problem faced us though; it was All Star weekend and both of our schedules were jam packed.
Rushing through the airport tons of onlookers gawked at us from afar, pointing, grinning, snapping pictures, and some scantily dressed females even rushed up on us. Clearly, my job as Fabolous’ assistant didn’t involve muscle, so I moved to the side to let his bodyguard do his job, fighting off the groupies. Traveling with Fab and the other Def Jam heavyweights always proved to be exciting, this trip would be no different. Before I knew it car service arrived, and I commenced to secretly dialing my man’s cell number. My intent was to get Fab and the other guys checked in then flock over to my dudes’ hotel room. As the phone rang that strong desire to be with him filled me again. The thought of hearing his raspy voice sent chills through up and down my spine while the loud chatter around me continued.
It didn’t take long for me to realize he wasn’t answering, but I’d been determined my entire life. I hung up, called again, and paid attention to the fast pace of my heart beat. Again, no answer. That incident got brushed under the rug quickly, since my duties began as soon as we pulled up to the hotel. Within an hour, we were all checked in, and the entourage headed to Fab’s first radio interview. Since this was some type of Def Jam takeover, I was certain he would be there. He and Fab had the same sort of celebrity status, and my sources had previously told me they were both scheduled to do the interview.
It seemed as if the radio interview began and ended before I even realized we were all being ushered back out the door. The fact that my boo never showed up hit me like a ton of bricks. I stood for minutes with my mouth hung open. If his interview had been cancelled or postponed, where in the hell was my phone call? My insides boiled. I was pissed. What about all those words he’d spoken to me late night during pillow talk? I was his homie, his ride or die chick, and now I couldn’t get a fucking phone call? Next thing I knew, my fingers were attacking the key pad on my phone.
I hung up and called again.
I did the repeat thing again becoming a borderline stalker. Strangely, this time he answered. Even though steam flowed from my head, I still wanted to be in his presence and loved the sound of his confident voice. It was same range most fans noticed when they listened to his music. I needed to get with him, fast.
“What up? Where you at,” I quickly rolled off my tongue.
“Out,” he told me.
His voice sounded so nonchalant. My first thought was to bust off on him, but my sentiment changed all too fast. I peeped to my right and left to see if anyone was listening to my call as we stepped back into the ride. The coast seemed to be clear with no one paying me any attention so I asked boldly, “Where you staying at, so I can come over?”
He paused, then hit me with, “I don’t know.”
Lies, I told myself. But why?
Faster than I could even blink, he man-handled me off the phone. He was a fast talker, sweet talker, and so much more when it came to women, so I knew smoke was being blown up my skirt. I took the snub like a big girl and went back to planning for Fab’s appearance at a local club which was scheduled for midnight. I sorta wondered if Fab ever suspected anything since my mood had gone from sweet to sour in less than an hour. He never said much, only shot me a few looks since I took care of my job like a real woman was supposed to. I put love aside momentarily, attended the party that night, only to have my boo not show up there either. When would the light bulb go off? Obviously, I was being played.
The next morning reality struck, an insider, one I’d like to call an informant unloaded what felt like a ton of bricks. When the words, “Your man showed up after you left,” escaped his lips, I froze. Then he hit me with,” He was with her.” I became ecstatic. Who was her? Who was my baby with, I wondered? “Who was it?” I blasted. My source was clearly afraid of what my next reaction would be. His voice cracked. Afterwards, his throat cleared a few times. “The R&B chick that we’ve all heard the rumors about.”
My eyes blurred a bit. I could only see red. I knew who my informant was talking about. I was ready to fight. It was time to whip them both on contact. It took hours for my homies to calm me down. Tears flowed like the Nile, and nothing could stop me from my rage throughout the day. Soon, nighttime fell again, and the Def Jam family had yet another event. I showed up, did my duties for Fab, and attempted to settle my nerves. That’s when things spiraled out of control. My multi- platinum selling dude walked in the door with the woman I suspected he was with. They were arm and arm like a real couple….like I didn’t exist.
Within seconds, I charged toward them both. My hands shook, and my mental shifted to something similar to a mass attack. I didn’t care that she was famous, or if any pictures of me going wild would be posted on the blogs. I just refused to get treated badly when he was the one stringing me along. I could’ve handed the truth, but not the humiliation. Clearly, I was being fucked with no Vaseline. That was it…the end to our relationship as far as I was concerned. My heart may have been crushed but I held my head high, refusing to let yet another negative situation with a man ruin my job. I was able to take care of myself and used that set back as another opportunity to make myself stronger. As usual, I told myself….you win in the end, Winter. You win!
( Continues… )
Copyright © 2013 by Winter Ramos. All rights reserved. Book excerpt reprinted by permission of the author. This excerpt is used for promotional purposes only. Do not reproduce, copy or use without the publisher’s written permission. Copyright infringement is a serious offense. Share a link to this page or the author’s website if you really like this promotional excerpt.
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