Cover reveal! Be my Valentine.

Very excited to share the cover of a Valentine anthology of African Love Stories that I’ve been involved in.

Coming soon this February just in time for a cosy Valentine’s day read

A Love Africa Press Collection

Be My Valentine

Volume One

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Life is beautiful especially when you’re in love.

Dive into these five hand-picked contemporary romance novellas and fall in love this Valentine’s Day.

Featured stories:

Unexpected Love by Amaka Azie

Bitter Sweet Symphony by Fiona Khan

Golden Valentine by Nana Prah

Boot Camp Seduction by Sable Rose

Mr Hot Mocha Perfection by Empi Baryeh

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/43465485-be-my-valentine

UNEXPECTED LOVEby Amaka Azie

Blurb

After a very public and humiliating break-up, Yemi Okeke quits her job and accepts the position of Chief Surgeon at St. Andrews Hospital in Lagos. It’s an amazing opportunity to start afresh and get away from all the embarrassment … except, her gorgeous new employer, Vincent Mba, knows all about the incident she ran away from.

Vincent is intrigued by Yemi. She is smart, beautiful, and just the kind of woman he wants to get to know better. But they started off on the wrong foot, and recently heartbroken, she is wary about trusting him.

Society says she is past her prime, and that is just one obstacle thrown along their path. He must find a way to overcome all of that, but perhaps the most difficult task of all? He has to win Yemi’s trust and convince her to give their love a chance this Valentine season.

About Amaka Azie

Amaka Azie writes romance fiction set in tropical West Africa. She explores the beauty and intricacies of the continent in her sweet and sensual love stories.

Born and raised in Nigeria, West Africa, she developed a passion for reading at the age of twelve. Her interest in writing began in secondary school when she joined the press club, and her active imagination has captured the interests of many. 

Apart from getting lost in creating fascinating fictional characters, Amaka enjoys reading, painting and travelling with her family.

She lives in the United Kingdom with her husband and daughters and where she also practices as a part-time family doctor.

Amaka was named one of the Most Influential Authors Under Forty by the Nigerian Writers Awards (NWA) for the years 2017 and 2018.         

Connect with Amaka

Website/Blog: https://amakaazieauthor.com/

Facebook: http://bit.ly/AmakaAzieFacebook

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AmakaAzie

Goodreads: https: www.goodreads.com/amakaazie

BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY by Fiona Khan

Blurb increase

When Dr Aliya O’Henry meets Professor Jack Larrimore, there is an inextricable bond. Baby Star’s arrival brings them together in facing their inhibitions which have been an obstacle in moving forward and finding love. Aliya’s loss and Professor Larrimore’s abandonment, are issues they must resolve before they succumb to the inevitable attraction. 

Bitter Sweet Symphony is a sweet romance filled with angst and compassion, the endearment of parenthood and it resonates on the lyrical innocence of love found within the four-part harmony of music. Dr Aliya and Professor Larrimore learn the lesson of never overlapping the past with the future, when the future is a beautiful gift.

About Fiona Khan

Fiona Khan has been lauded with many awards and accolades as an author, poet, environmentalist and in spreading Language, Literacy and Literature. Her short stories, poems and articles have been published in many literary magazines around the world. She has 20 titles to her name and has won many awards over the past 27 years for her leadership and penship. Fiona has written the first HIV/Aids book with emotional intelligence for children, a book that is fully illustrated. 

Fiona is the founder of the Global Forum 4 Literacy specialising in free digital and mobile downloads of literature and literacy in many languages, globally. The Global Forum 4 Literacy has now become a brand to be reckoned with as the forum was presented at the UNESCO conference for 2018 as part of the Creative Cities Network and has now collaborated with StoryWeaver in translating books into different languages on a digital platform.

Connect with Fiona

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/FionaMKhan/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/FionaMKhan

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/globalforum4literacy/ 

Website: https://www.globalforum4literacy.com/ 

Website: http://www.literarytourism.co.za/ 

GOLDEN VALENTINEby Nana Prah

Blurb

Sena Ewuram’s upcoming travels will take her far away from the man her father saved from his abusive uncle.  The same one who sees her as surrogate sister category rather than a love interest. The opportunity to leave Ghana to further her education should help cure her of those unrequited feelings.

Jewellery designer, Yiko Ayoma, would never betray the man who helped him survive. Falling in love with his mentor’s daughter is something he can’t help but is doing his best to resist acting on. When tragedy strikes on Valentine’s Day, both are tested and must each decide which is more important, their friendship or taking the risk to be more.

About Nana Prah

Nana Prah first discovered romance in a book from her eight-grade summer reading list and has been obsessed with it ever since. Her fascination with love inspired her to write in her favourite genre where happily-ever-after is the rule.

She is a published author of contemporary, multicultural romances. Her books are sweet with a touch of spice. When she’s not writing she’s, over-indulging in chocolate, enjoying life with friends and family, and tormenting nursing students into being the best nurses the world has ever seen. 

Connect with Nana

Website: http://www.nanaprah.com/ 

Blog: http://nanaprah.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/NanaPrah.Author/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/NanaPrah

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nanaprahauthor/

BOOT CAMP SEDUCTIONby Sable Rose

Blurb

She’s a big-bodied beauty with weight issues. He’s a dreamy hunk with an unsavoury agenda. 

For the first twelve years of her life, Amaka Dilibe lived in an orphanage, abandoned by her mother. Now she has finally achieved success with her home décor business. 

Life should be great. Only, it isn’t. 

Full-figured Amaka has been the butt of jokes for a long time. Dumped and humiliated by her ex-boyfriend because of her weight, she’s eager for a change. 

She enrols in a weight-loss boot-camp owned by Tiago Omole, a coffee-skinned, bearded hottie with a penchant for wearing t-shirts with funny slogans. 

Amaka is blown away the first time she sees Tiago. Dreamy. Yummy. Yes, please. 

Facing the loss of the business he’s worked hard for, Tiago is desperate too. And when someone presents him with a way out: seduce Amaka and get her to give you money, he is sorely tempted. 

Should he do it? After all, it’s just sex, isn’t it?

What could go wrong?

About Sable Rose

Hi, my name is Sable Rose and I revel in being different. I’m a romance writer and the author of erotic M/F contemporary and paranormal romances and action adventures. 

My books feature outspoken, independent and intelligent women who know what they want (and what they don’t want), and who are not afraid to make the first move to get their man, if they have to. Their men are always swoon-worthy hunks, each a blend of naughty and nice that women find so irresistible.

My passion is writing and I write only what my characters tell me to write. I write morning, afternoon, night. Who needs sleep? Yes, I’m a writing addict. 

In between writing-phew-I also read-a lot. And watches lots of TV and movies. I love dancing, listening to great music and I dream of one day being able to find time to learn both pole-dancing and belly dancing. 

I wish…

I adore traveling, and have visited over 15 countries and have formed friendships with people of varying cultures. I use these experiences to craft my stories. 

I live in Lagos, Nigeria. No dogs yet. Definitely, no cats…

Connect with Sable

Twitter: https://twitter.com/sablewriter

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SableRoseRomances/

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/sablewriter/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sablewriter/

YouTube: https://youtube.com/sablewriter

Mailing list (+ free novel!): https://bit.ly/2zg5v8y

MR HOT MOCHA PERFECTIONby Empi Baryeh

Blurb

Ama Sarfoa believes in love, though she hasn’t been lucky at it. She returns to college for a master’s degree after being on the work force for five years. Three chance encounters in one day with a handsome stranger has her entertaining thoughts of him being Mr. Right.

Until he turns out to be one of her professors.

Adinkra Kusi-Andoh has been burned by love before, but his student, Ama, stirs desires in him he’d long given up on feeling again. However, she’s his student and their relationship skirts the fringes of professional ethics. Yet as Valentine’s Day approaches, he can’t help but as her out on a date. 

When their budding relationship threatens his career, Adinkra has to choose between saving his career and the woman he loves. Will he give up on love or risk it all for the woman his heart desires? 

About Empi Baryeh

Empi Baryeh is the award-winning author of Most Eligible Bachelor (Book of the year, 2017 Ufere Awards). She writes sweet and sensual African, multicultural and interracial romance, which happens to be her favourite genres of romance to read. Her interest in writing started around the age of thirteen after she stumbled upon a YA story her sister had started and abandoned. The story fascinated her so much that, when she discovered it was unfinished, she knew she had to complete it. Somehow the rest of the story began to take shape in her mind and she’s been writing ever since. She lives in Accra, Ghana, with her husband and their two lovely kids.

Connect with Empi

Website: https://goo.gl/hpo1U4

Facebook: https://goo.gl/K39DHE

Twitter: https://goo.gl/5wbe4v

Goodreads: https://goo.gl/p2JiDL

Instagram: https://goo.gl/BGEkB4

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Starting Over Again- Deleted scene

So, I was going through my old manuscript notes and came across a deleted scene from Starting Over again. I loved this flashback scene, but my beta readers and my editor felt it was unnecessary and the story could be better told not as a flashback but in conversation.

I struggled with letting go, but I eventually deleted this scene. This is the conversation between Efe and Onome when she discovered they both carried the sickle cell gene that they could pass on to their children if they had kids.

It’s not edited, so be gentle. Since I couldn’t share it in the novel, I’ll share it here. I hope you enjoy it.

Do you agree it should have been deleted?

Chapter Four

Fejiro lay in the hospital bed grunting in pain. Two catheters, hanging on each side of the bed, transferred saline from drip bags into each of her arms. Onome glanced at her daughter helplessly and then turned to watch the nurse draw up a liquid medication slowly into a syringe. The nurse had a bland and bored facial expression.

“Ahhhh!” Fejiro groaned as another jolt of pain travelled through her bones.

“Nurse, please hurry up!” Onome cried, her own body quaking as if she was also experiencing the pain her daughter felt. 

The nurse neither looked up nor hastened her movements. Onome sighed and held tightly onto Fejiro’s hand. 

“Shhhh, darling, soon you’ll have your morphine…soon,” she crooned, tears clouding her vision. She had been through this with her daughter so many times. Bone-pain crises.  Fejiro groaned again and Onome felt her stomach twist. She watched her daughter writhe in bed, her eyes slightly yellow and rolled to the back, her face contorted in pain.

“Nurse, please,” Onome pleaded.

“Madam, please… I don’t want to make a mistake,” the nurse admonished Onome, taking another smaller bottle from the top of a silver table beside the bed and drawing up clear fluid into another syringe as slowly as she did the first time. 

Onome glanced at the overweight middle-aged nurse in a tight white uniform that threatened to burst with any sudden movement. The woman was so stoic and emotionless. As if a little girl was not in severe pain beside her. Onome hated this hospital. The consultant doctors were rarely present and only showed up in the mornings for short ward rounds with a few naive looking trainee doctors hovering around them as if they were gods. And the nurses were downright mean. Detached and sluggish. Like the one standing beside her now. 

A few seconds later, the nurse held the syringe towards Fejiro. Onome watched as the nurse took Fejiro’s limp hand in hers. She opened the cannula at the end of the tube attached to Fejiro’s arm and pushed the drug into the cannula with the syringe. Picking up the other syringe containing clear fluid, she flushed the fluid through the tube before she shut the cannula. Onome sighed with relief; soon her daughter will be pain free and asleep. Even if it lasted for only two hours.

“I’ll come back to check on her in an hour,” the nurse said to Onome as she disposed of the contents of the table into a yellow bin with a tight white lid.

“Thanks,” Onome muttered, although she didn’t feel thankful. It had taken an hour for Fejiro to be admitted because of all the paperwork involved and they had wanted Onome to pay the deposit first before providing the bed for admission. All the while, Fejiro sat in the waiting room grunting in pain. 

“No problem, it is well,” the nurse said as she waddled out of the room. 

Onome drew the curtains to the cubicle to provide some privacy for her and Fejiro. 

“It is well.” Onome loathed that phrase. Everybody used it these days. No, it was not well; her daughter was lying in bed riddled with pain. Tears burned the back of her eyes but she pushed them in. She wouldn’t cry. Fejiro needed to see her in control and not falling apart.

“Mummy, I’m sleepy,” Fejiro mumbled, her eyes glazed and unfocused.

“Yes, baby, that’s a good sign,” Onome responded, squeezing her hand. “It’s a good sign, my princess. No more pain.”

“No more pain,” Fejiro repeated slowly, and seconds later, she was fast asleep. Onome sat there by the bed, still holding Fejiro’s frail hand, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as she slept. 

This was Fejiro’s third bone pain crisis this year. Onome felt a sense of guilt. Just like she did every time Fejiro was in hospital attached to drips and groaning in pain. Pain from the blood in her veins crumpling and starving her bones of nourishment. This was no life for a seven-year-old, she should be out there playing with her friends, exploring the world, being a child. 

Onome drew in a short breath and fought back tears. It was all her fault. She knew this was a possibility when she married Efe. But she was so in love, and so hopeful, and so blind. Everyone else saw this coming, but at the time, she couldn’t see past the love she had for Efe.

“No more pain,” Onome whispered, stroking Fejiro’s hand. “I’ll give up everything so you have no more pain.” Onome sighed and reclined into her seat, her mind drifting off to the time when she and Efe discovered that they both carried the sickle cell gene.

***

“What is it?” Onome asked, immediately concerned. Onome was watching TV in the sitting room of Efe’s rented two-bedroom apartment at Ring Road in Benin City, when he walked in with a bleak look on his face. They had been engaged for two weeks, and although Onome was elated at being engaged to Efe, she had kept the news from everyone in her family. She was afraid of how her father would react if she married someone who did not share his religious beliefs

“What is it?” Onome asked again, when Efe did not respond. The worried expression on his face caused Onome’s gut to tighten.

“We are both sickle cell carriers, Onome,” he muttered, handing her two pieces of paper.

Onome’s heart skipped a beat. She stared at the blood test results in shock. She and Efe had never talked about their genotypes before. It was a topic that never came up. They had only done the blood tests because it was a compulsory practice in the catholic church which Efe attended. It was to ensure the intending bride and groom were healthy and to check for their genotype. Since she had decided to marry in the Catholic Church so that Efe didn’t have to face her father’s religious bigotry, she had readily complied. Never in a million years had she anticipated this.

“There is a chance that we could have a very sick child, a child with sickle cell disease. We can’t get married, Onome.” Efe went on, obviously distraught.

“No,” Onome cried, fear gripping her insides. “Please don’t say that. Let’s think …please…”

“Onome, we can’t… we could have a sick child if we do…”

“That’s just a possibility… we could also have healthy children!” 

She broke out into a cold sweat. “We can’t throw our love away just because of the possibility that we may have a sick child… I love you!” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t… I have a cousin who is a sickler… I can’t put someone else through that.” 

With that statement left hanging, Efe ran out as fast as he could, leaving Onome in his sitting room with tears in her eyes. 

A week later, Efe visited Onome in her family home for the first time in the four years that they had been dating.

“I tried to keep away from you, Onome, but I can’t. I love you,” he said, as soon as she opened the door. 

“Oh, Efe, I was so scared that I had lost you!” Onome cried, jumping into his arms. They kissed passionately by the front door. 

  When Onome finally broke the news to her family that she was engaged to Efe, all hell broke loose. Her father yelled and her mother pleaded with her to see reason. 

“God himself doesn’t want you to be together! Not only is he not a member of the true faith, Cherubim and Seraphim, but you both also carry the sickle cell gene!” Onome’s father yelled. “I will not support this marriage! If you marry him, you are not my daughter anymore!”

“I don’t care,” Onome retorted.

“Please, Onome, listen to your father,” her mother pleaded, dropping to her knees and begging Onome. “You are my only daughter… please.” Onome looked away from her mother. She couldn’t afford to lose Efe. She just couldn’t.

“Shut up!” her father thundered, standing up from the sofa. “What do you know about love? Is that what I sent you to University to do? Parade yourself like a prostitute?” His eyes sparked and his nostrils flared. “If you marry that man, you are not my daughter!” 

“I love Efe, I can’t live without him.”

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that… but I have made up my mind.” 

Onome packed her belongings and moved into Efe’s small rented flat that night. Her mother and brother called her phone repeatedly that entire week, pleading with her to reconsider her decision. But Onome couldn’t see past her love for Efe. She had devoted five whole years to him. She couldn’t suddenly stop loving him just because they both carried a faulty sickle cell gene that they could or could not pass on to their children.

“Onome, please listen to dad and mum,” Tobore, her brother, said to her two weeks later. He had taken a night bus from his University at Port Harcourt to reason with her. 

“Tobore, I love Efe. We love each other. I can’t live without him.”

“Even though you know you may have a sick child if you marry him?”

“We could both do IVF, or maybe not even have children.”

“Listen to what you are saying, Onome. This time, I agree with daddy. This is not about his usual religious bullshit. This is about a very important decision. You are making a decision that may affect an unborn child. A child that has no say in the matter. Born to be sick and suffer with pain, just because of decisions you have made.” Onome silently considered her brother’s statement. 

“I’ll think about it,” she said, sorrow choking her throat. 

She did. She really did. However, that night when Efe came home from work, she took one look at him and realised she didn’t want to spend her life without him next to her. Even if it meant not having a baby.

They eloped to get married two weeks later. It was a small court wedding with Voke as a witness. They also moved to Lagos a few weeks after that. True to her father’s words, he cut her off from his life and threatened to disown any of her siblings who kept in contact with her or Efe. He did not soften his stance even after Fejiro was born. Tobore, her only sibling bold enough to defy their father to keep in touch with her, told her that their father often referred to Fejiro as a cursed child. 

Onome held Fejiro’s hand as she slept. She could not help but feel responsible for her child’s illness. She had researched frantically for a cure. Although she knew about bone marrow transplant and had gone as far as checking to see if she was a match for Fejiro, she worried about Fejiro going through such a dangerous medical treatment. That plan had abruptly come to an end. Apart from finding out that she was not a match, the procedure was also very expensive and Onome simply could not afford it. Nonetheless, she still hoped that sometime in the future, there would be a cure for the disease, something that did not involve having to transplant blood cells from a donor and medications for life to prevent the body rejecting those cells. 

Onome was active on sickle cell websites and always keen on getting new information about the disease. One day, she vowed, Fejiro would be free of this disease. There was still hope.

“Mummy, I’m hungry.” Fejiro’s soft voice alerted Onome. She glanced at her daughter and saw her eyes had fluttered open.

“Oh, my baby. You are awake,” she muttered, squeezing Fejiro’s hand. “I’m glad you are hungry. It’s a good sign.”

Fejiro smiled weakly. “I want ice-cream.”  Onome laughed. Fejiro always loved to have Strawberry ice-cream whenever she was ill.

“Okay, baby, I’ll get some from the shop opposite the hospital,” Onome said, standing up from the chair. She stretched, attempting to soothe the kinks in her muscles caused by sitting in one position for so long. She had been sitting by Fejiro’s bedside for three hours without rising to do anything. 

“Thanks, mum.” Fejiro quipped, and Onome’s chest constricted. She was happy to hear the excitement in Fejiro’s voice.

“Will be back in less than thirty minutes.” Onome left the ward and headed towards the nurse’s station to inform them that she was leaving Fejiro for a few minutes. There was a young female nurse seated in the small cubicle, reading a romance novel with half-dressed models on the cover.

“I am headed to the shop to get something for my daughter Fejiro. She is in bed nine,” Onome informed the nurse, who acknowledged her statement with a barely audible mumble without looking up from her novel. 

  Swallowing back the irritated retort that threatened to burst from her throat, Onome added, “Please ring my mobile phone if she needs me before I’m back.”

“Okay, ma,” the nurse responded nonchalantly, still not bothering to look up from her book.

Onome shook her head as she walked out of the hospital. She really wanted to give the nurse a piece of her mind, force some compassion into her. However, she resisted that impulse. There was no point in antagonizing the staff, it would only make them much more difficult. And Onome didn’t want that for Fejiro. 

As she walked into the sunshine, Onome inhaled deeply as she glanced at the InlandGovernmenthospital sign hoisted boldly on the top of the white three story-building complex. One day, she hoped, Fejiro wouldn’t have to be stuck in hospitals. One day, she wouldn’t have to deal with rude nurses. One day, there would be a cure for sickle cell disease.

Starting Over Again by Amaka Azie

Click on book links below to buy.

Nook: 

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/starting-over-again-amaka-azie/1126845077?ean=2940154473924

Kobo:

https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/starting-over-again-6

Amazon UK:

http://bit.ly/StatingOverAgainAmazonUK

Amazon UK: 

https://okadabooks.com/book/about/starting_over_again/14941

Smashwords:

http://bit.ly/StartingOverAgainSmashwords

iBooks

http://bit.ly/StartingOverAgainApple


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I need your votes

Happy new year!

This year is already off to a great start. I’ve been nominated for The African Author Of The Year 2018 by Ufere Awards. Yay!

Link to vote below ⬇️

https://www.rwowa.org/best-author

It’s an honour to be nominated alongside other awesome authors. This is a dream come true. I started my journey after another wonderful author, Tolulope Popoola, encouraged me to dust off my manuscripts and go for it. Since then, I haven’t looked back.

Thanks for buying my books, reading them, talking about them and reviewing them. I’m grateful for all your support.

Now, I need your votes to get this award. Please click the link below to vote. Thanks.

https://www.rwowa.org/best-author

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I’m on a list again! Yay!

Wonderful news to wake up to.

I have been named one of the 100 Most Influential Nigerian Writers Under 40 by the Nigerian Writers Awards (NWA) 2018

It’s been an amazing journey and I feel grateful to everyone that has been a part of my writing journey including all my readers and people who contact me to encourage me to keep at it.
To be on a list with writers whose books I have read and people I admire is humbling.
Thanks to the Nigerian Writers Awards for taking out time to put up this list. Most of all I’m grateful to God who blessed me with a family that supports me through all this.

This has been an amazing year. And this is like icing on a cake to keep me encouraged.

Never give up!

Looking forward to seeing more readers and new African Romance writers next year.

Please click the link below to view the full list.

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Happy Holidays 🌲🎄🎄

I want to wish everyone a merry Christmas and the best of this holiday season.

This year has been awesome and I’m thankful for your support.

I released 2 books this year.

The Senator’s Daughter and The Governor’s Wife.

I plan to release the third instalment in this trilogy sometime next year. Can you guess the next title?

I’m also working on 2 novellas for release next year, too. So, I’ll be busy and hopefully, I’ll have more spicy African love stories for your reading pleasure.

In the meantime, I’ll keep in touch.

Don’t forget that there’s an ongoing OkadaBooks Christmas sales for Melodies of Love, Thorns and Roses and Starting Over Again.

Hurry while offer lasts.

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I’m writing Again…Yay!

I’m so glad to be writing again.

I completed chapter one this morning and that’s usually my most challenging aspect of writing. Once I get through the first chapter, I usually feel more motivated.

I woke up very early this morning because the characters in my head wouldn’t let me rest. They kept yapping and changing their minds about what character traits they wanted to portray.

Okay, I know I sound crazy. But that’s how I am when my characters take over. Be warned. I’ll be crazy for a few weeks/months until they tell their stories and leave me be.

Yomi, the main male character wants dreadlocks. Ha! In a Nigerian setting, he’ll get some grief about it from his parents, aunts and uncles, that’s for sure.

I can’t wait to write hilarious dreadlock stories. “Cut that rag from your head and look decent for once, Yomi!” Hehehe…

But really, how did our natural hairstyle become repulsive to us?

Why did Africans change so much to appear “civilised”?

Food for thought…









Dreadlocks—An African hairstyle

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The Governor’s Wife- excerpt

The Governors Wife is finally out!

Enjoy an excerpt.

As soon as he touched her, Philip realised he’d been lying to himself for the past seven years. Sharp shards of desire, hot and raw, cascaded all over his body, leaving him helpless. He wasn’t over her. Not yet. Maybe never.

The sensible thing would be to let her go immediately, remove his hands from her narrow waist and walk away. But sensible didn’t seem to be in his skill set anymore. Maybe never had been regarding Ogonna. Being this close to her, touching her, had scrambled his brain. All he could do was douse himself in her aura.

Slowly, he slid his palm from her waist, eyes fixated on hers. His hand glided up her back until it rested on the softness of her long graceful neck. With deliberate intent, he moved his thumb over the gentle angle between her ear and jaw. Deftly, he stroked the area with a light pressure and watched keenly for her response. Ogonna’s hot spot. Haunting memories of her whimpering restlessly against him when he touched her there filtered through his heated brain. Did it still turn her on?

Her breath hitched sharply. “Oooh,” she moaned. A primitive sound which caused his penis to throb, pushing against his unyielding black jeans. Apparently, it still did the trick—for both of them.

The knowledge stoked his arousal. Unable to resist, he lowered his eyes to her full parted lips…red, soft, tempting. God, he wanted to kiss her. Badly. A deep part of his subconscious rose up in protest. This was Ogonna, the woman who broke him by running off to marry someone else. He shouldn’t want to have anything to do with her, let alone kiss her. He needed to bring this madness to an end, turn and walk away.

But Philip remained rooted to the spot, deepening the pressure of his thumb instead, and then trailing it slowly across her full lower lip. Her tongue darted out, flickering lightly. A bold move. Unexpected.

His eyes swept to hers and he froze. They were wide as saucers, as if startled by her own boldness. It would have been easier for him to let her go if even an iota of repulsion or uncertainty registered in their dark depths. Instead, something primal flashed in her pupils. His breath trapped in his chest. Ogonna wanted him, too. The realisation sent a wave of need through him, weakening him.

Another soft moan came from her. His nostrils flared, and he let out a groan from deep within his throat. Almost roughly, he reached for her face, cradled it in both hands and brought his mouth down on hers.

Purchase links below

Amazon US / Amazon UK SmashwordsKoboiTunes/Okadabooks/BambooksNook

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I made a book recommendation list! Yay!

I am so excited to share this: The Senator’s Daughter was listed amongst the recommended 28 billionaire romances for 2018 by bookriot.com! 💃🏽💃🏽💃🏽

Now, this may not mean much for others, but for me, it’s very encouraging.

This is the first time any of my books has been recommended by a non-African book blog.

So, permit me to do cartwheels 🤸‍♂️ all day 😊

Click here to see the list.

The Senator’s Daughter is available on Amazon, Okadabooks and bambooks.

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The Governor’s Wife— Preview

Hello everyone

As promised, here is the preview of The Governor’s Wife.

Chapter One—Part 2

“I’m sorry, Phil, but I can’t wait for you any longer. Our plans just aren’t practical. It will take years. You have no job, and I’d be waiting for a dream that is totally unrealistic.” She took a deep breath, as if afraid to utter her next words. “Deputy Governor Uchendu is ready to marry me now. Not years from now, and it’s an opportunity I can’t pass up.”

Like a play, her words came out with practiced clarity, as if she had repeated them to herself over and over and over again…as if trying to convince herself the explanation carried a scintilla of plausibility and absolved her of treachery.

She gathered in another breath, let it out and continued. “I’m the only daughter in my family and almost thirty. Almost past my expiration date. So, my family approved the wedding, the bride price has been paid, and the traditional rites done.”

Philip swallowed hard. Tiny spikes of pain tore at his heart with every word she uttered. Yet he couldn’t seem to overcome the cold shock that transfixed him. He stared at a complete stranger.

“I came down to tell you personally. I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else…because of our history. Our love.”

“Love…our love,” he repeated. “Osanobua! What a beautiful love story. Someone will surely compose a love song about us.” A harsh laugh rose up in Philip and spilled out like red hot magma from a volcano.

“How dare you even say the word. You know nothing about love.” He took a step back from her, quarantining himself from her and his feelings. “While I’ve been here, trailing from one interview to the next, practically begging anyone who would listen for a job, you’ve been securing your own future by selling yourself to the highest bidder.”

She sucked in her breath. Her eyes widened, and he could see the shadow of hurt in them, but he was too far gone to care.

“We both know the waiting isn’t the problem. It’s the money. He is a rich Deputy Governor and I’m not.” He clenched his jaw until it ached. “And we both know your age has nothing to do with this. You’re only twenty-five, a long way from thirty. Which even if you were, doesn’t justify rushing into marriage blindly. So, don’t tell me it’s about your age. It has never been a problem for us. Never!”

Philip strode slowly towards Ogonna again and halted right in front of her, pinning her with his eyes.

“If this isn’t about money, Ogonna, call off the wedding now. We’ll get married, if it’s marriage you want. Let’s do it. Call this rubbish off, and let’s go to court. We could live here in this BQ.” He waved his hand around the small self-contained, one-bedroom apartment he shared with a former classmate and friend. “I’ll ask Femi to move out. I have a job interview next week, and if I get it, the salary is enough to kickstart our future.”

His hopes came alive when he saw her eyes mist and spark with possibilities. Encouraged by this, he continued. “Call the wedding off, Ogonna, I’ll marry you today.”

Silence. For a brief moment, he thought he noticed the familiar tightening of her jaw…saw a rock-hard determination that always etched her features when they talked of their future plans, both personal and professional. They had talked constantly about their dreams of building a real-estate empire. And their four children, for whom they would create a legacy…together. While other couples lived moment to moment, he and Ogonna had been Mr. and Mrs. Power Couple in university. Philgonna, their friends had christened the pair, as if they were a celebrity couple.

Hope seemed to wrestle in her eyes for a few seconds. Then, a sob broke free. Confused, Philip took a step closer to her. She moved back, as though his nearness scorched her.

“Ogonna, please tell me. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, Phil. It’s too late.”

“Too late…what does that mean?” A sudden bout of nausea rose to his throat as a horrifying possibility popped into his head. He became very still.

“Are you pregnant?” The question came out in a low growl.

“No!” she denied sharply. “No!”

“Then why…why are you doing this? Nothing makes sense. I have been faithful to you. Never once strayed. And I know you have been faithful to me, too. Until now. Why? Why this governor? Why now?” He paused, his chest heaving with the emotions charging through him. Nothing was adding up.

He half expected her to break into a laugh. To shout April fools! before pulling him into her arms and assuring him it was all a joke. But it wasn’t April. And even a bat could see the tears in her eyes were real. And the engraved invitation card lying on the floor…frighteningly real, too.

“Because he can offer me and my family stability,” she muttered. Tears streamed down her cheeks in a sad trail. “And I need that.”

And here he was, right back to the beginning—unable to believe what he was hearing from the woman he loved.

“Need it more than you need me…more than you need our love?” he asked in a low voice, afraid to hear her answer.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she screamed, the words seeming to come from the bowels of hell. “More than I need you or our love.”

And then, without warning, Ogonna turned and fled from the room as though the hounds of hell pursued her.

Philip stood staring at the door for long seconds after it slammed shut in his face. Tears he’d been holding back fell freely from his eyes, and he made no attempt to wipe them away.

Slowly, he walked over to the corner of the room and picked up the elegantly designed white and gold wedding invitation off the floor. He stared intently at the words typed in bold italics as though the more he looked, the sooner the nightmare would end.

             The families of Chief and Lolo Moneke and Chief and Lolo Uchendu,
invite you to the holy matrimony of their daughter, Ogonna Moneke
and son, Deputy Governor Kene Uchendu
on Saturday, November 12, 2011.

Three weeks away. The wedding was only three weeks away. He stood there in utter disbelief.

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The Governor’s Wife — Preview

Hello everyone.

I’m releasing 2 parts of chapter one of The Governor’s Wife this week in preparation for the upcoming book release.

Here’s the first part. Enjoy 😊

Chapter One (Part 1)

Seven years ago

His fingers trembled so badly that the small white card almost slipped through them. His eyes moved from it to the woman who’d just handed it to him.

“This…it’s a joke, right?” Philip asked. He couldn’t believe what he’d just read. Icy chills twined with a volcanic heat to run up and down the nerves of his body.

“No, Phil, I’m sorry, but…”

A loud grunt unbound itself from deep within him, and Philip flung the card across the room. He leapt from his chair and cuffed each of her arms with his hands. “Please, Ogonna. You can’t. How can you do this to me…to us? How can you marry this man?”

Her muscles stiffened at his touch, and she shifted her eyes from him.

“Thirteen years, Ogonna. You’ve been my girlfriend over thirteen years. We have a plan…you and me—”

“Exactly, Phil. Thirteen years a girlfriend. A big difference between that and wife,” she retorted.

“Is that what you want? For us to marry…now? When I have no way to support us?” Philip asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re still in university. I’ve only just graduated. You know I’m here in Abuja looking for a job. Trying to better myself…for our future.”

“This isn’t about you…”

“Not about me?” He tightened his grip, his eyes flashing and his nostrils flaring. “My girlfriend just hands me an invitation to watch her marry another man, and it’s not about me?”

“Phil, let me go,” she said, trying to shake herself free of his grip.

“No!” he growled. “You are mine. If you think I’m going to let you marry anyone else…”

She let out a low cry, more of a whimper. She sniffled, and then slowly turned her head back towards him. Her eyes, brimming with tears, released large glistening drops from their corners to stream in a trail down her cheeks.

Those tears where his undoing. Philip loosened his grip on her arms and forced himself to let her go. He took a step back, his muscles tense with conflicting emotions. Shock, anger, and fear battled in his chest, each fighting for dominance.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. Pushing back his anger, trying to understand what was happening, he reached up and gently brushed her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

Slowly, he tilted her tear-stained face upwards. “But why, Ogonna? Why are you doing this?” He searched her face anxiously. “Please tell me.”

Her expression darkened with uncertainty. Her shoulders bowed, almost turning in on themselves. And her lips trembled as if she were chilled to the bone. Her usual self-assurance seemed to have been snatched from her, leaving a broken shell—a stranger— standing before him.

The girl he had dated for almost fourteen years had disappeared, like she’d gone up in smoke. And Philip didn’t know how to get her back.

Since secondary school, Ogonna had been his support system. She’d been right there by his side through all the significant events from adolescence up till now. Like two peas in a pod, they had been inseparable. Whenever he needed her, she came through for him, no questions asked.  His entire world. Since the day he’d set eyes on her, there had never been anyone else. And the same for her—or so he’d thought, fool that he was.

They had plotted and planned their lives with the precision of a military operation. After graduation, he would move to Abuja to find a job. Once she’d completed her studies a year later, she would join him.

They were almost there—their end game in sight. He had a job interview scheduled for next week, and her final exams were only two months away. They’d executed the plan to the letter.

But now, here she stood dropping a bombshell in the middle of their lives.

Philip felt he’d been transported to an alternate universe—one where nothing added up. He’d just visited her two weeks ago, had spent the entire weekend in her off-campus flat. Everything had been as it always was between them. Perfect, normal, happy.
Absolutely no indication she had someone else. So, how the hell could she be getting married? And to the Deputy Governor of her home state. Where did she meet the guy? When? His eyes widened.

“How long have you been cheating on me?”

“Philip, I haven’t…it’s not what you think…” She sniffled again.

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped. “How else can you explain a sudden engagement? Eh?”

“Philip…” she said, starting to say more, then closing her mouth. Her face fell to her feet again.

“Oh, my God!” Philip felt his throat close in. “How long?”

Again, she parted her full lips to reply, but shut them again. A strained silence stifled the atmosphere for a few seconds more until a new bout of frustration rose inside him.

“Answer me…now.” His voice came low and gravelly, delivering the command with a deadly calm that startled her.

Ogonna heaved a deep sigh of resignation, as though she could no longer hold back the truth from him. “I only met him a few weeks ago,” she responded, trailing a trembling finger over her upper lip.

A sign of anxiety. He knew that gesture all too well. He had on many occasions soothed her unease by simply lifting her finger to his lips. But now, he stood frozen. Her revelation rendering him speechless.

Yes, he’d heard her admission, but his subconscious couldn’t immediately process the information. This entire thing seemed like a distant scene unfolding before him. A scene he had no part in. Still immobilised by the shock of her betrayal, he didn’t respond.

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