First time encounters- The Governor’s Wife

This week I’ll be sharing the scene from The Governor’s Wife where Philip sees Ogonna again for the first time in seven years— seven years after she abandoned him. 

Although not their first time meeting, it is a dramatic encounter after years of not seeing each other.

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A few seconds later, Philip glanced up at the sound of his office door opening. At first, he thought he was seeing things—hallucinating—and his heart dive-bombed in his chest. It simply couldn’t be. Philip blinked, and opened his eyes again. It was…it really was Ogonna. Walking into his office like a hurricane about to upend his life. Again.

Time stood still as he took her in, almost greedily. Stunning. As always. Tall and slender with smooth ebony skin. With her heart-shaped face and deep brown hue, he’d often told her she looked like the Nollywood actress Genevieve Nnaji. Her hair was shorter now, styled in a fashionable bob, bringing attention to her fine facial features—nicely carved eyebrows over large charcoal eyes, a cute nose, and that mouth. Oh God—full and pouty lips, coated with a startling bright crimson tint that contrasted sharply with her skin tone. 

Philip’s heart continued to fibrillate violently in his ribcage, his body immobilized by the shock of seeing her again. Unexpectedly. Unprepared. 

For self-preservation, he had avoided any news about Ogonna. He hadn’t wanted to hear about her happily living a blissful life with the governor who could buy her the world. He prohibited close pals from even mentioning her, had cut off most of his friends from university precisely to avoid running into anyone offering information about her. 

When he had inadvertently seen a photo of her standing beside her husband on the front page of a newspaper last year, smile bright as the sun and looking like she’d won the lottery, he’d experienced weeks of intermittent heart palpitation episodes that had made him physically ill. Panic attacks, the doctor had diagnosed. 

He’d managed to get over that period after months of isolating himself. Now, within a few seconds of seeing her again, his pulse jerked uncontrollably, his breathing became laboured, frighteningly similar to how he’d felt then.

“What are you doing here?” he sputtered, jumping to his feet.  His annoyance wasn’t just with her, but with himself…for his weakness, for allowing her mere presence to destabilise him. “I was expecting Funmi Adelaja.” 

“Hello, Philip,” Ogonna answered. Her gaze slowly swept over him, widening in guileless admiration.

An intense surge of anger rose up inside him. Ogonna had no right to look at him this way, no right to walk into his life again like a beautiful apparition and mess with the armour he’d carefully constructed around his emotions after her betrayal.

“I haven’t scheduled a meeting with you. If you need to see me, book an appointment with my secretary. This slot is allocated to Funmi Adelaja.” 

Her breath hitched sharply. She appeared startled by his gruff tone. He was determined to ignore it. 

“I am a busy man with no time for drop-ins.”

“I have an appointment, Phil, I’m not a drop-in.” 

He must have been mistaken thinking his demeanour had startled her. She sounded calm, together, and completely unfazed by his dismissal. Which made him even angrier. 

Phil? Phil? Is she kidding? How dare she call him Phil as if they were old friends catching up over lunch.

“Philip. My name is Philip to you,” he snapped. “Actually, scratch that. You may call me Mr. Adamu.” 

She heaved a deep sigh before she spoke again. “Mr. Adamu, I have an appointment with you. I booked it under the name Funmi Adelaja…because I didn’t think you would want to see me—”

“You’re right as hell about that,” he cut in. Pointing to the door, he added in a biting tone, “This meeting is over. Please leave now, before I call for security.”

She didn’t budge.

“Listen, Phil…Mr. Adamu. I know we have our differences, but I’m here strictly on business, to discuss renting the property I’m interested in.”

“Differences? Is that what you call cheating on me and running off to marry the next money pot that crossed your path? Does your husband know you are here? Or do you cheat on him, too?  I thought you live in Ebonyi state. What are you doing in Abuja?”

A pained expression crossed her face. For a moment, Philip felt himself weaken. Even after all these years, despite his rage, her pain got to him. Clenching his jaw tightly, he pushed the emotion aside. Anger was his weapon. He needed his fury, so he didn’t crumble in front of her.  

“My husband doesn’t know where I am. Or maybe he does. It matters little. We are getting a divorce.” Her soft voice brought his mind back. 

Silence. The air in the room seemed to have been sucked away, leaving Philip feeling a little dizzy. Divorce? When? Why? He shook his head rapidly to clear it. He shouldn’t be even remotely interested. Nor should the news be flooding his senses with profound joy. Ogonna’s marital status was no longer a concern to him.

“Now, isn’t that something. Found a richer one, have you?” His lips tilted into a sardonic smile. “Frankly, I don’t care about you or your life, Ogonna. So, like I said before…leave.”

Her jaw dropped open, a shocked gasp escaping her parted lips. “Won’t you even hear what I have to say? I need this property.” 

“What part of I don’t care didn’t you get? Nothing you have to say interests me in the least. I won’t rent to you. Ever. So, you’d best spend this time looking elsewhere.”

“You think I didn’t search for an alternative, Phil…Mr Adamu? I really need this, please,” she said in a broken voice, the last sentence a shrill, frantic plea. 

Philip suddenly burst into humourless laughter. “Good God, how ironic. I remember asking you not to marry the governor years ago. Pleading with you…just like this. Desperate. But you did it anyway. Now, here you are, begging—”

“I’m not begging for anything,” Ogonna interrupted him tersely, flashing dark eyes at him. She squared her shoulders, lifting her chin with the spirited confidence he’d always known her to have. “I’m interested in renting…and I will be paying.”

“Well, I don’t need or want your money.” He pointed to the door again. “Leave now or I truly will call security.”

“You don’t even know why I need the property.”

“Don’t know. Don’t care. Out!” 

She stiffened, staring at him in startled disbelief. He noticed tears fill her eyes and his stomach tumbled. Not once in their thirteen years together had he ever made her cry. A part of him wanted to apologise, take her in his arms and comfort her. But another part needed to hurt her, make her feel the pain she’d put him through when she’d deserted him. No true explanation, no remorse, leaving him to draw his own conclusions about their breakup—that he wasn’t good enough, rich enough. What other conclusion would one draw when she’d left him to marry a wealthy governor? The old wounds resurfaced, igniting his resentment. 

“Leave my office, Ogonna,” he said in a low hoarse whisper. 

Their eyes locked for a few moments, hers wet and shiny. A muscle in her jaw worked, as though with the effort of fighting tears. She’d lost—the tears came anyway.

Philip gripped the edge of his desk so tightly that he heard a crackling sound from his knuckles as he fought back the instinct to embrace her. How could he be so angry with her and still ache to take her in his arms?  Why did she continue to have this much power over him?

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Hope you enjoyed reading. Please drop a comment.

purchase links 

The Governor’s Wife 

OkadaBooks: https://okadabooks.com/book/about/the_governors_wife/24176

Amazon UK:  https://amzn.to/2R9E3Ol

Amazon USA: http://bit.ly/TheGovernorsWifeAmazonUS

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/TheGovernorsWifeSmashwords

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-governor-s-wife-10

ITUNES: https://itunes.apple.com/gb/book/the-governors-wife/id1444922013?mt=11

Barnes and Noble : https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-governors-wife-amaka-azie/1129949624?type=eBook

Bambooks:  https://bambooks.io/Book/BookDetail/The-Governor’s-Wife/11303

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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:

AMAZON US: http://ow.ly/xXwM50uBcem

AMAZON UK: http://ow.ly/FdSk50uBceg

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Indie Book Awards Finalist—Yay!

I’m absolutely delighted to share the news that The Senator’s Daughter is a finalist at the Next Generation Indie Book Awards for the romance category! Yay!

This is my first international accolade and I’m so pleased. 

When a stranger contacted me directly on Goodreads with so much praise for the novel, and even suggesting that I put it up for an award, I was sceptical about it. Not because I didn’t believe in the quality of my story, but because I’ve read a lot of books with award tags on them that didn’t hit the mark for me.

I always think there’s something else these judges look for that I don’t quite understand.

I ruminated on this suggestion for a few weeks and decided to go for it in December. After entry, I simply forgot about it, not really hoping for much.

To my uttermost delight, I received a congratulatory email and a certificate pronouncing me as a 2019 finalist.

This is an amazing news for me, and a huge encouragement. It makes me feel positive about the decision I made in 2016 to start this journey of sharing my stories with the world.

It’s never too late!

Even though I didn’t win, being a self-published finalist with other international romance writers is a massive victory for me.

Thanks to Jess for encouraging me to just go for it, to my family and friends who have my back and most of all, to all my readers. You all rock!

God is good.

Click the link below for a comprehensive list of finalists and winners.

https://www.indiebookawards.com/winners/list

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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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First time encounters— Thorns and Roses

This week, I’m posting a snippet of the first time Chuma met Ifeoma from Thorns and Roses.

He’d been patronising her restaurant for months before actually meeting her. She’d been ogling him from behind the serving counter before they met.

This was one of my favourite first encounters between my main characters to write. 

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Feeling slightly irritated that a waiter hadn’t shown up yet, Chuma rose from his seat intending to find out why. However, before he could take a step forward, a slender light-skinned lady he’d never seen there before, rushed out from behind the partitioned serving counter.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, sir,” she muttered. “We are short staffed today.” She appeared nervous and fidgety. 

Chuma sat back down.

“What can I get you?” she asked, rubbing her hands on her apron. He couldn’t see her face clearly because of the way she had positioned her body while she talked to him. She appeared to be avoiding eye contact with him.

“Oha soup, please,” Chuma replied and then added, “some garri as well.”

She turned her face towards him abruptly as if his order had surprised her. A series of rapid emotions registered in her expressive eyes. First, surprise, then panic, and finally fear. She was afraid of him. He caught his breath, caught off guard by her reaction. He was sure that he had never met her before, so why was she frightened of him? Did she think he was upset about the delay in attending to him?

His need to assure her of his state of mind was immediate and unexplainable. He reached for her hand.

“I’m not upset—” he began, but she snatched her hand away swiftly. 

The dim lighting in the room made it difficult for him to see her facial features distinctively, but she looked young. A colourful scarf covered her hair, and baggy clothes and a faded blue apron enveloped her slim frame.

“I’m sorry for the delay again, I’ll get your food now, sir,” she replied, scurrying away.

Chuma shook his head swiftly to clear his mind of that strange encounter, although he did wonder about that expression of fear that he had seen in her eyes. He searched the inner recesses of his memory trying to recollect if there was any possibility that he had met her before today, but he kept coming up empty. No, he had certainly not met her before.

Maybe she thought I was someone else, he concluded within himself.

But soon, wondering led to intrigue, and he waited with anticipation for her to return with his meal

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I hope you enjoyed reading this. Please drop a comment.

Purchase links:

Thorns and Roses

Nook:

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/thorns-and-roses-amaka-azie/1125829381?ean=2940154019863

Kobo:

https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/thorns-and-roses-1

Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/ThornsandRoses-AmazonUK

Amazon US: http://bit.ly/ThornsandRoses-AmazonUS

Okadabooks: https://okadabooks.com/book/about/thorns_and_roses/13261

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/ThornsandRoses-Smashwords

iBooks: http://bit.ly/ThornsAndRosesApple

Bambooks: https://bambooks.io/Book/BookDetail/Thorns-And-Roses/905

RovingHeights (Paperback): http://rhbooks.com.ng/product/thorns-and-roses/S















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ERE’S SECRET AND 223 BONNY STREET (ANTHOLOGY) BY FIRI KAMSON


Two enchanting stories about loss and love:
In Ere’s Secret, Ere has a life-changing decision to make.
In 223 Bonny Street, Ikenna wakes to the joys and challenges of being a woman.

ERE’S SECRET

I have a secret. In three days, I’ll be turning forty, and I’m in love for the first time. Decades ago, I sacrificed my life for the good of my family. But tragedy struck too close to home, reminding me of the brevity of life. Now, I have a choice to make: continue living in the shadows, or allow my true self to emerge.

223 BONNY STREET

After an accident, waking up in another person’s body seems like a dream until Ikenna realizes that he is faced with the stark reality of Nkechi’s life, the woman whose body he occupies. He experiences the pains and joys, the strengths and sacrifices of a woman.

The two of them make a connection beyond the physical, but matters of the heart are delicate. When secrets from the past are revealed, will their connection be strong enough to survive?

Young black woman sitting surrounded by flowers

AVAILABLE ON:

LOVE AFRICA PRESSOKADABOOKSSMASHWORDSWATERSTONESAMAZONKOBOBARNES AND NOBLE

 

ABOUT FIRI KAMSON

Firi has been an avid reader since she could read mostly because I caught the reading bug from my dad and mum. With reading Roots by Alex Harley and the Odessa file at 8, reading was her mode of escape.

Firi loves all fiction but enjoys being curled up under the duvet reading a hot sizzling romance novel when what being a mum, an adult, a wife, a sister and a daughter.

Writing this book has been a dream come true so I hope you’ll love it as much as I have love writing it. Please do not forget to leave a review on Amazon. You can follow me on for more updates on my incoming books.

Other interesting facts about Firi: she paints ceramic and glass mostly but everything can be her canvas so we would not be surprised seeing that she has painted a plane. You can find her paintings on her Instagram page.

Firi has always dreamt of becoming a pilot. Let’s see how this goes.

FACEBOOKTWITTER | INSTAGRAM

 

QUEER AND SEXY COLLECTION VOL. 1 BY ENIITAN

Love Africa Press presents Volume One of its Queer and Sexy Collections exploring queer sensuality.

In this debut edition of three Queer and Sexy interwoven stories written by Eniitan, we explore pleasure, desire, love, human nature and godhood. Follow the lives of Ufuoma, Larrie, Ariyike, Fausiat, Halimat and Uduak as they experience the magic that is the otherworldly Tara.

Expressions of a caribbean girl in lingerie with striped hat

AVAILABLE ON:

LOVE AFRICA PRESSAMAZON – USAMAZON – UKOKADABOOKSSMASHWORDSBARNES AND NOBLEKOBO

 

ABOUT ENIITAN

Eniitan lives in a world populated by Yoruba gods and non-binary human beings who take their pleasure as seriously as they take mischief making.

FACEBOOKTWITTER | INSTAGRAM

 

Love Africa Press is giving away $10/£10 Amazon or Kobo Gift Card or NGN 5000 Naira Okadabooks Credit

Click to Enter

EXCERPT from Last Weekend

Ufuoma was the last off the plane. She had shunned her usual garb of comfortable jeans and tees and worn a cream skirt-suit that clung to her voluptuous figure like wet on water.

The cream showed off her dark skin, and to drive the point of her femininity home, she had the first three buttons of the white shirt open. Her bra pushed up the mounds of her breasts, leaving onlookers in no doubt of the gifts hidden underneath her clothes.

On her feet was a pair of heels, making her appear even taller.

She was determined to make the best of this long weekend away from her regular life.

This would be her first time at an all-female party, and although Loretta had assured her that it would be fun, she was still a little anxious, so she fell into the default of looking extraordinarily good to boost her spirits.

One of the best things, and the worst, was her ability to ‘pass’ and be taken for a heterosexual, cis-gendered woman, but it also made her invisible to other queer women. A blessing and a curse in a country like Nigeria. She remembered her university days with a shudder. Those years she’d spent listening to ‘godly advice’ from classmates and lecturers about how she should stop hanging out with her more masculine-presenting friends, the rumours they felt comfortable sharing with her about how these women were all a bunch of lesbians and that she should avoid being inducted into the ‘cult of lesbianism.’

 To worsen her situation, bonding with women was not her strong suit, maybe because she was not primarily attracted to men, not sexually or emotionally. She’d never felt invested in them enough to mind their vagaries; she could take them or leave them, without a backward glance. But with women—she was always so scared, had always been, of the different ways loving women could drive you to a point of madness, of how invested she became in their lives, their well-being. But most importantly of the powerful way a woman could break you … but that hadn’t stopped her from wanting them, loving them.

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Links

Giveaway($10/£10 Amazon or Kobo Gift Card or NGN 5000 Naira Okadabooks Credit)http://bit.ly/2Lz9Zxm

ERE’S SECRET & 223 BONNY STREET

Love Africa Press: https://www.loveafricapress.com/product-page/ere-s-secret-223-bonny-street-anthology-by-firi-kamson

Okadabooks: https://okadabooks.com/book/about/ere_s_secret_223_bonny_street_anthology/26860

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/935968?ref=loveafricapress

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1916475582

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/ere-s-secret-223-bonny-street-anthology

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/eres-secret-223-bonny-street-anthology-firi-kamson/1131368870?ean=9781916475588

Waterstones: https://www.waterstones.com/book/eres-secret-and-223-bonny-street-anthology/firi-kamson/9781916475588

QUEER & SEXY COLLECTION VOL 1

Love Africa Press: https://www.loveafricapress.com/product-page/queer-and-sexy-collection-vol-1-by-eniitan

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Queer-Sexy-Collection-Vol-1-ebook/dp/B07KZND3FR

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Queer-Sexy-Collection-Vol-1-ebook/dp/B07KZND3FR

Okadabooks:https://okadabooks.com/book/about/queer_and_sexy_collection_vol_1/24311

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/909958?ref=loveafricapress

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/queer-and-sexy-collection-vol-1-eniitan/1129957270?ean=2940155894162

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/queer-and-sexy-collection-vol-1

Firi – Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/me.firikamson/

Firi – Twitter: https://twitter.com/tmkamson

Firi – Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/firikamson_/

Eniitan – Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/Ayodeleolofintuade

Eniitan – Twitter:https://twitter.com/aeolofintuade

Eniitan – Instagram:https://www.instagram.com/ayodeleolofintuade/

Tag Firi Kamson and Eniitan on Social Media:

Twitter (Firi):@tmkamson
Instagram (Firi):@firikamson_
Twitter (Eniitan):@aeolofintuade
Instagram (Eniitan):@ayodeleolofintuade

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Nothing has to change. We have great chemistry…


Misunderstandings are we common in romance novels. As an avid romance book lover, I look forward to reading tense moments between couples. I’m such a drama queen.

In this week’s #LAPLovenotes, I’m sharing a snippet of the spat between Onome and Nnamdi from Starting Over Again.

This occurred the morning after. How awkward! 😩🤦🏾‍♀️🙂

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“Onome, nothing has to change. We have great chemistry. Why can’t we continue to explore that?”

“But it’s against company policy for us to date.”

“We won’t be dating, we’d just be—”

“Oh,” Onome turned away from him, holding tightly to the bed covers. “Sleeping together,” she finished for him.

“Onome, I didn’t mean it that way,” Nnamdi began, taking a step towards her. She held out her palm to stop him.

“No, I know exactly what you meant,” Onome said, her tone surprisingly calm considering the anger boiling within her.

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I hope you enjoyed this snippet. Please drop a comment.

Purchase links

Starting Over Again

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 USA: http://bit.ly/StartingOverAgainAmazonUSA

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

Smashwords: http://bit.ly/StartingOverAgainSmashwords

iBooks: http://bit.ly/StartingOverAgainApple

Bambooks: https://bambooks.io/Book/BookDetail/Starting-Over-Again/906

RovingHeights (Paperback):  https://rhbooks.com.ng/product/starting-over-again/

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First time encounters— Melodies of Love

Inspired by a post on Instagram by Romance Writers of West AFrica, I’ll be posting a series about first encounters between main characters in my novels.

In this scene from Melodies of Love, Ikenna is meeting up with Adaora again at his work place after 12 years of not seeing or hearing from her following a bitter breakup.

Although this isn’t the first encounter between them, it certainly felt like one.

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Ikenna’s heart lurched in his chest. It had been twelve years since he’d last seen Adaora. She was still beautiful. His mind had not prepared him well enough for today even though he had planned this meeting for the past four months. He studied her as she stood across from him. 

She was still petite, about five feet four inches, barely reaching his chest, but she was no longer thin. Her body had matured into lovely curves which suited her small frame. Her blue silk blouse with colourful embroidery at the top hugged her slender waist, and her black knee-length skirt fitted her round hips perfectly. She looked confident. 

His eyes roamed to her feet which were perfectly tucked into a pair of blue four-inch heeled stilettos. It gave her some height, but it was still not enough to match his slightly-above-six-feet height. He had always towered above her. At one time, she had told him that it made her feel safe.

Ikenna stared at the face that had haunted him for the past twelve years. Her beautiful heart-shaped face, her dark luminous eyes which were large for her face, her small nose and full lips coated with pink lip gloss. Lips he had kissed countless times, twelve years ago, until they were swollen. Lips he had a sudden uncontrollable urge to kiss now. 

Her hair was done in tiny braids which she had packed into a single bun. She had always liked braided hair. His Ada, the girl who had driven him to succeed because he never felt like he was good enough for her. The girl who made him feel insecure. The only girl who made him want to be better.

“Ikenna…” she whispered with a smile, jolting him out of his reverie. “I can see you are still never without your saxophone!”

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I hope you enjoyed this. Please drop a comment.

Purchase links 

Melodies of Love: 

AmazonUK: http://bit.ly/MelodiesOfLoveAmazonUK

Amazon Us: http://bit.ly/MelodiesofLoveUSKindleLink

Okadabooks:

https://okadabooks.com/book/about/melodies_of_love/12141

Nook: http://bit.ly/nookbookMelodiesofLove

kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/melodies-of-love-2

iBooks: http://bit.ly/MelodiesOfLoveApple

Smashwords: 

http://bit.ly/MelodiesOfLoveSmashwords

Bambooks: https://bambooks.io/Book/BookDetail/Melodies-of-Love/904

RovingHeights (Paperback):  https://rhbooks.com.ng/product/38562/



Link to RWOWA post







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He intended just a quick kiss, but…

The butt (ass) grab is a common scene in romance fiction novels.

Depending on how it’s written, it could be either sexy or sleazy.

In this week’s #LAPLovenotes i’m sharing a butt grabbing scene from The Senator’s Daughter 

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“I’m having such a lovely time, Nosa. Thank you,” Rita whispered, her eyes shining. 

Unable to resist, Nosa lowered his head to her lips. He intended just a quick kiss, but when her tongue brushed over his lips, he needed more. 

Capturing her mouth with his own, he drew her closer, roaming his hands over her delicate back, grabbing and squeezing her bottom through her dress. The taste of her was a drug, powerful and addictive—he wanted all of her and would always come back for more. 

“Kissy-kissy people, get a room jor,” joked a group of teenage passersby.  

Their loud laughter jerked Nosa to reality. He pulled back, cradling Rita in his arms. “We…” He cleared his throat. “We probably should go home now.”

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Hope you enjoyed this snippet. What’s your verdict? Sexy or sleazy? Yay or nay? Please leave a comment.

Purchase links for The Senator’s Daughter

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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