First time encounters- The Senator’s Daughter

This week, I’m sharing the first face to face encounter between Rita and Nosa from The Senator’s Daughter.

The very first time they meet, he is hauling her into a vehicle after kidnapping her. How awkward! He he.

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Strong arms engulfed her as she hit her head against a rigid wall. Okay, maybe it wasn’t a wall. It felt like firm chest muscles. The alluring aroma of maleness and cologne that filled her nostrils tightened her chest. She inhaled deeply. She had died and gone to heaven in the arms of Angel Michael. Rita buried her face in his chest, and she felt the pounding of his heart against her cheeks.

“Angel Michael,” Rita whispered, resting her face against his broad chest, feeling safe in the arms that carried her. This was heaven. “Thank you, Angel Michael.”

“Bloody hell! You scared the shit out of me! What the hell is wrong with you!” The voice that barked at her was gruff. Her eyes snapped open. That was definitely not the voice or words of an angel.

“Who are you? Let go of me!” Rita screamed, suddenly aware of her surroundings. She had not jumped off the bridge as she had intended, and a stranger held her in his arms, refusing to let her go.

“Let go of me!” she cried again, hitting the stranger on his back. He neither responded to her command nor flinched from the force of her blows. He simply turned, holding her firmly in his arms and began moving towards a vehicle.

“Let me go, please,” Rita pleaded, alarmed. Reality set in; she was being abducted by this man. “Please let me go. Who are you?” The man still did not respond. She began to panic, really panic. She was alone. No one knew where she was. She immediately regretted locking Tango back in the bungalow. If this man took her somewhere and killed her, nobody would even know where to find her.

“Do you know who I am?” Rita’s panic-stricken voice rang out again. “I am Senator Obaseki’s daughter. My father will have you killed.” Anger replaced her fear. “Let me go! Do you hear me? My father is very rich…”

He remained silent as he carried her to the black car parked at the other end of the bridge. Rita noticed the opened front door of the vehicle, but before she could say anything more, he slammed it shut with his foot.

The stranger yanked open the door to the backseat and dumped her inside. She tried to kick him away, but he held her legs together and pulled out a rope from the floor of the car. Keeping her legs bound with ease, he tied the rope around her ankles and knotted it. Rita’s arms flapped about, throwing punches at the man in a state of terror. She hit him anywhere she could find his flesh, but he didn’t duck or flinch.

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small knife. Rita’s eyes widened. She held both hands above her head in surrender, temporarily immobilised by fear. “Please don’t kill me. I’ll give you money. Name your price. Whatever amount you want, I’ll give you.” His facial expression was indifferent, as if unimpressed by her declaration. Without even looking up at her, he used the knife to cut the rope and placed it back in his pocket.

After securing the rope on her ankles, he retrieved another rope from somewhere in the car and reached for her forearm. He captured one forearm in his large hand and aimed for her other hand. Rita didn’t make it easy for him, aimlessly flailing her free hand around, trying to elude his grasp.

“What do you want? Money? I can give you up to ten million Naira today if you let me go.” She searched his face anxiously for a sign that he heard what she’d just said. There was no emotion there. His focus was aiming for her hand. Fear gripped her insides. This was not about money. This man didn’t need her money. And that was frightening. What did he want? Was he a rapist? A ritualist?

“Give me your hand,” he muttered in a low voice. Rita continued to evade his attempt to gather her hands together. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just give me your hand.”

“Please, let me go, then. I have money. Loads of money I could give you today if you let me go.” Her voice became desperate. “Please…”

“Give me your hand now,” he said again. This time, there was an authoritative ring to his words that made her heart jump. Rita offered her other hand to him.

While he tied her wrists together, Rita studied him silently, trying to recall if she had met him before. His glossy skin was a deep mahogany hue that she would have found appealing under different circumstances. He had a long face with piercing large eyes below thick well-carved eyebrows. His nose was long with flared nostrils, and his full lips stood out amongst his precisely trimmed facial hair. Closely cropped smooth curls crowned his head, tapering to thin sideburns.

Her frantic mind search for previous encounters with this man came up empty. She hadn’t met him before, had she? Was this personal? He was a tall, muscular man with a commanding presence that she would not easily forget had their paths crossed. No, she hadn’t met him before. She was sure of that.

“Please let me go, I haven’t done anything to you, have I? I don’t know you, do I? Please let me go…please…I can give you money.”

He didn’t look up or even acknowledge her statement. He used the same knife from his pocket to cut the ends of the rope that secured her wrists before replacing it in his pocket.

Glancing up at her, he ran a thumb over her bound wrist.

“Does this hurt?” he asked in a tone that Rita would have described as compassionate were she not tied hands and feet in the back seat of his car. It took a moment for her to realise that he was referring to the rope on her wrists. Rita shook her head.

“Good…” He brushed his hand over his face. “Listen, Princess. I don’t want to hurt you. If you do exactly as I say, you will be fine,” he warned her. His intonation was a rich baritone that cracked at the end of his sentence.

“What do you want? Are you a ritualist? I can give you money if you are a ritualist… Name the amount…you don’t have to do anything to me. Please. I’ll pay double whatever they are offering you.”

He laughed in response. The sound of his laughter reverberated in the air. Not replying to her comment, he slammed the car door shut and walked over to the driver’s seat and sat down.

“You are a rapist, then. A big man like you… Do you have to resort to rape to have sex? So, you can’t manage to find a girl to convince to sleep with you? You should be ashamed of yourself!”

He remained silent. Rita’s fear intensified. Her throat tightened with tears. She was going to die. This man was going to rape her, kill her and leave her body somewhere nobody would ever find. And it was all her fault. Oh, God. Why did I lock Tango inside the bungalow?

“Where are you taking me? Please don’t hurt me…please…” Rita’s tone wavered. Tears fell down her eyes.

Her plea seemed to touch him, and she noticed him pause his movements. He glanced at the rare-view mirror and their gazes linked. “I promise I won’t hurt you, okay?” he said gently. Rita watched him open the glove compartment and pull out a small syringe. He took out a tiny needle from a box in there, tore away the packet, and attached it to the end of the syringe. “This is the only thing that will hurt. But just like a sharp sting, like a mosquito bite. Nothing dramatic.”

Rita could barely hear what he was saying. Her needle phobia kicked in. Blood drained from her head, causing her to feel dizzy. Wide eyes with dread and her gaze focused on the advancing needle, she remained paralysed, so scared that she didn’t even feel the sharp sting of the needle as it pierced the skin of her arm. All she could feel was the blood pounding in her ears.

“You will soon become light-headed,” the man continued in a deep voice. “And then slowly fall asleep. Don’t worry; it’s a low dose, so you will be fine when you wake up, Rita.”

Rita? He had called her by name. She was not a random victim. This man knew her name.

“How do you know my name? Why are you doing this? Who are you?” The man did not reply. He started the car, pulled out of the side road where they were, and drove towards the main road.

More questions formed in Rita’s head. But her brain became fuzzy, and slowly, just as the man had warned, her eyes grew heavy. The questions whirled around in her brain in disjointed circles until she could no longer keep her eyes open or her mind alert. Heaving a deep sigh, Rita gave in to the darkness that claimed her. But not before she noticed the flash of regret that touched the stranger’s sharp eyes.

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I hope you enjoyed reading. Please drop a comment.

Purchase Links:

Okadabooks: https://okadabooks.com/book/about/the_senator_s_daughter/17711

Nook:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-senators-daughter-amaka-azie/1128062054?ean=2940155150718

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/the-senator-s-daughter-13

Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/TheSenatorsDaughterAmazonUK

Amazon US : http://bit.ly/TheSenatorsDaughterAmazonUS

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/TheSenatorsDaughterSmashwords

iBooks: http://bit.ly/TheSenatorsDaughterApple

Bambooks: https://bambooks.io/Book/BookDetail/The-Senator’s-Daughter/11318

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Love At First Sound- Chapter One

It’s just a few more days to the release of Love At First Sound published by Love Africa Press. Yay! I’m so excited.

To celebrate, here’s the first chapter free!

I hope you enjoy reading. Please leave a comment.

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Chapter One

Yomi Oladipo loosened his tie as he pushed opened the door of his two-bedroom apartment. Another long day, and he couldn’t wait to kick back and unwind with a bottle of Chardonnay while listening to his favourite radio show.

The loud buzzing of his mobile phone jarred him, and the paper pack of roasted corn he’d ordered on his way back home almost slipped from his hand.

Sighing, he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. He swiped a thumb across the screen, and the cheerful image of his brother lit the display.

“Damn it, Kunle. You call at the most annoying times,” he grumbled, holding the phone upright in one hand while awkwardly juggling his takeaway meal and briefcase in the other.

“Bro, I can see you keep to your tradition of roasted corn every Friday night. And I guess the next thing is to listen to your wife on the radio.”

“Shut up,” Yomi snickered, chuckling. “She isn’t my wife. And I’m still happily single, thank you very much.”

“Just say you love her. For the past five years, you’ve never missed her show. And you’ve just purchased her new book. I bet you wish she wasn’t anonymous, so you could find her and marry her already.”

Yomi laughed. He agreed with his brother. Yes, he wanted to meet Sasha, the radio relationship and sex therapist. Her show had captivated him from the very first day he’d listened to it. There was something about her voice and the direct way she gave her advice that had caught his attention, kept him hooked. But he wasn’t about to admit all that to Kunle.

“Big bro, I’m sure you didn’t call me just to badger me.”

“Of course I didn’t.” He hesitated, cleared his throat, and puffed out a sigh. “I called … I wanted to talk about Mum …”

He became still. The mention of his mother caused his stomach to plummet.

“Please don’t. I’ve told you that woman is dead to me—”

“Don’t say that, Yomi. She is your mother.”

“No, she isn’t.” He seethed. “No woman who abandons her children to run off with her lover deserves to be called a mother. Nope. She’s not my mother.” His blood boiled as he spoke.

“Yomi—”

“Kunle … Please. Don’t. If you want to remain in contact with her, that’s your choice. But don’t try to involve me in that mess.”

“She is in town, Yomi. She wants to see you.”

“Well, that isn’t going to happen. She can crawl back to London with her toy boy and leave me the fuck alone. I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever. So, forget it and never mention her to me again.”

Bile rose to his throat. The image of his beautiful mother—blonde, blue-eyed, and dainty as a feather—half-dressed and moaning loudly as she rode astride a young dark-skinned stranger barely out of his teens, scorched Yomi’s brain.

Still as fresh as when he’d witnessed it at the age of seventeen. He would never forget the shock of betrayal that had pierced his chest when he had stridden into the sitting room of the family home and unexpectedly discovered her infidelity. No, he wanted nothing to do with that adulterous excuse for a mother.

“Okay … okay.” Kunle’s tone sounded resigned. “Didn’t mean to ruin your evening.”

Lowering his briefcase to the ground beside him, Yomi blew out a regretful breath, a bit ashamed of his outburst. He hadn’t meant to yell at his older brother. Although only a two-year age gap existed between them, he had deep respect for him.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” he said. Then, he stretched his lips into a smile to show his brother his remorse and continued. “And you didn’t ruin my evening. Nobody can ruin my Fridays because my wife on the radio always takes away my stress.”

His brother laughed out loud, the tension between them immediately forgotten. “Aha! Now you admit you are spiritually married to her,” Kunle chortled. “Sasha—the only person with the power to soothe you.”

Yomi nodded. “Okay, I admit it. I love Sasha’s voice—if that’s her real name. And her guts. I mean, there is something to be said about being a bold radio sex therapist …”

“Not so bold, though. She remains anonymous.”

“Yeah … yeah … I don’t blame her. With all the creeps in Lagos, I think that’s a wise decision. Idiotic people may assume she is promiscuous because she’s a sex therapist and cause her grief.”

“You’re right.”  Kunle yawned, triggering an answering yawn in Yomi, too.

“Okay, Kunle. Speaking of which … it’s almost time for the show, and I need to get my dinner ready before it starts.”

“Corn isn’t dinner.” Kunle snorted. “Keep eating that, and you’ll end up severely constipated,” he said with a dismissive wave of one hand. “Talk to you later.”

Yomi smiled. “Okay, later.”

After hanging up, he made his way to the efficient but spacious kitchen adjacent to the sitting room. He pulled out two corn cobs from newspaper wraps and placed them on a plate. Whistling softly, he retrieved a small bowl containing chopped pieces of coconut from the fridge and placed both items on a silver tray, after which he lifted a chilled bottle of wine.

His entire body pulsated with anticipation as he moved back to the sitting room, balancing the tray effortlessly in both hands. With a deep sigh of satisfaction, he slumped on the recliner and switched on the radio.

The digital clock hanging on the bright white wall read eleven p.m.

“Right on time,” he muttered, lifting a cob of corn to his lips and biting down on it.

“Welcome, lovers. It’s so great to be back again for Late Nights with Sasha at Mainland FM 106.2.”

The sultry voice from the radio resounded in the room, seeping slowly from his ears down his body like sweet caramel syrup dripping down a tasty treat.

“For a mature audience only. So, if you are less than eighteen years old, close your ears.” She let out a soft giggle that sent a jolt of awareness coursing through him. “Here, you get all the tips you need to keep your relationship spicy and your sex life steamy. Ring the number 090 237 237 with any questions you have about love, sex, and relationships, and I’ll do my best to answer.”

Slow rhythm and blues music followed her sultry pronouncement, breaking through his trance.

Yomi exhaled the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. It still amazed him how much effect Sasha’s voice had on him, even leaving him spellbound sometimes.

“We have our first caller,” she spoke again, cutting through the music. “Hello, you are through to Late Nights with Sasha. What’s your name, and what’s your question?”

“Thanks for taking my call, Sasha. My name is Amaka—” A loud screech emanated from the stereo, causing Yomi to wince.

“Amaka, nice to have you call in. Can you turn down your radio, so we can hear you properly?”

Silence for a few seconds, and then—“Can you hear me now?”

“Yes, that’s fantastic,” Sasha said, her voice low and husky, like a warm caress over his skin. “So, Amaka, how can I help?”

“Oh … I am a bit embarrassed about this … Okay, so, my husband brought some sex toys for our tenth wedding anniversary celebration getaway. And to be honest, I … I feel betrayed. Why would he feel the need to bring that filth into our matrimonial bed?” A second of hesitation. “Should I be worried he’s cheating on me? No longer satisfied with our sex life?”

Yomi sat up, anticipating Sasha’s reply. Although he had heard her clever responses to difficult questions such as this before, he still looked forward to every word she uttered like a student listening to a lecture a day before exams.

“Great, Amaka, I love your honesty. And I’m glad you called. My answer to your first question is that I feel it’s unlikely that your husband is cheating if he is willing to try new things with you in the bedroom. From my experience as a psychologist, when a person gives up on a relationship, they don’t bother dealing with important issues like sex with their partners. They simply go elsewhere to find what they need.”

Yomi nodded vigorously as she spoke.

“Absolutely correct, Sasha!” he said to no one.

“And my answer to your second question is, yes. He probably wants more from your sex life and wants to spice things up with you. I actually think that’s a good thing.”

“Oh, I didn’t see it that way.” Amaka’s tone wavered, sounding surprised, as though she’d expected Sasha to reflect the repulsion she felt about her husband’s request. 

“But sex toys, though … I have never used them … I find them … I don’t know … sinful.”

“You are not alone, Amaka. It’s common for women and men to feel worried about anything being introduced to conventional sexual activity. Even non-conventional sexual positions are shocking to many people. So, don’t feel isolated.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“So, what do I do about this sex toy thing? I’m not sure I want to use them … or even know how to.”

“I think you should talk with your husband. Find out what he feels about your sex life. Study the sex toys, find out how they are used, if you are comfortable with what they do.”

Yomi nodded again, totally impressed by Sasha’s insight. “Preach, my sweet Sasha! Preach.”

“Try them on yourself, then try them with your husband if you’re happy with the results,” Sasha said. Her husky chuckle came seconds after. “Maybe you would get to love them so much that you want to use them every time.”

A loud gasp resounded from the speakers. Likely from Amaka. “Ah … Sasha. I’m not so sure.”

“Nobody is ever sure about anything until they try it, honey. Don’t knock it until you do.”

“Thanks, Sasha. I’ll think about it.”

“Thanks for calling, Amaka, I’m happy to have helped. One more thing before you go … Remember, nothing is sinful unless you want it to be.”

The sound of instrumental jazz floated into the room. “Lovers, keep that dial tuned to Mainland FM 106.2 as we go into a brief commercial break.”

Yomi settled back onto his seat and took a sip from his glass of wine. Oh, he would give anything to meet Sasha. His brother was right. He’d fallen in love with the sound of her voice without even knowing what she looked like. How crazy was that?

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Pre-order links now available

EARLY RELEASE: 

LOVE AFRICA PRESS: http://ow.ly/2jUU50uBcen

PREORDER:

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Cover reveal- Love At First Sound

Title: Love at First Sound

Author: Amaka Azie

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher Love Africa Press

Release date: June 17, 2019

BLURB

Heartbroken after discovering her fiancé’s double life, Emem Akpan ends the relationship and moves into an apartment at the other end of Lagos, determined to get her life back on track with no more diversions.

However, a massive dose of distraction bumps into her in the form of Yomi, a sexy younger man who has set his sights on her and will stop at nothing to get her attention. 

Yomi Oladipo has always harboured a crush on Sasha, the anchor of his favourite radio show …. who happens to be none other than Emem, his new downstairs neighbour. Enthralled, he wants to get to know her better, but just when she decides to give them a chance, a troubling secret about her shatters his heart.

After experiencing a savage betrayal by someone he once trusted, will Yomi be able to overcome Emem’s devastating revelation?

Add to Goodreads TBR: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/45943695-love-at-first-sound

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Pushing through a Writers’ block

I’m celebrating my pushing through a difficult writers’ block.⁣

My current work in progress has been a bit of a struggle. I had a perfect outline at the onset. Boy meets girl, overcomes a fixed challenge and falls in love. Simple happy ever after storyline, so shouldn’t be a problem, right?—Wrong!!!⁣

My characters have a mind of their own and took me on an unexpected journey and emotional ride that derailed me from my outline. For many weeks, I tried to steer them back to the planned plot, and this left me feeling confused. ⁣

Last week, I decided to let them lead the way! And voila—the words kept pouring out! Now, I’m 3/4 done with the first draft.⁣

Lesson learnt from this experience:⁣

A plan is just a guideline. Be free to break the boundaries, set your mind free and let the story take control.⁣

I’m feeling positive about this manuscript. ⁣
Can’t wait to share Emem and Yomi’s story.⁣


Who says romance writers have it easy?⁣
It’s easier to write about hate than about love!!!⁣

Have you ever overcome a roadblock after setting a definite goal that you thought was straightforward?

How did you deal with the experience

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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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Cover reveal- The Governor’s Wife

The cover of The Governor’s Wife is finally here! Yay!

Blurb

Newly separated Ogonna Moneke has come to Abuja to open a safe house for abused women. Luck is on her side when the perfect site falls into her lap…until she learns who owns it. The chances of Philip Adamu renting to her are slim to none. Why would he when she dropped her financially struggling college sweetheart like a hot potato to marry someone else?

Real estate tycoon Philip Adamu can’t believe his eyes when Ogonna struts into his office. Seven years earlier, the gold digger had kicked him to the curb to marry a wealthy politician. Now she needs him, more like needs his property. Vowing not to rent her so much as a dog house, Philip shows Ogonna the door. But can he resist the feelings he’s denied for so long when he sees her flirting with a rival developer?

Sparks fly the moment they meet again. But he’s engaged and she’s still hiding the dangerous secret about her marriage.

Can love and forgiveness overcome the lies and deceptions?

Can they trust each other and the future they’d once dreamt of?

Coming Soon…

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