Love Africa Press

🌺 BLURB 🌺He needs her to elevate his status. But she will be his downfall.Finally, Ifeoma is ready to fully embrace the freedom of singlehood. Her ex-husband has moved on and remarried, and her son has flown the nest. With the intention of self-discovery, she embarks on a worldwide adventure, determined to fulfil three items on her wish-list: to experience pure joy, to find laughter in every corner, and to revel in her own sensuality.Then she meets Nero, a mysterious Black Italian whose charm captivates her instantly. And for twenty-four hours he fulfils every item on her wish-list. But he wants more, more than she’s willing to give. So, she ends it and goes home.Months later, Nero turns up in Nigeria, more detached and ruthless than the man she remembers, intent on destroying her family business and legacy. And only one thing will quench his bloody feud—Ifeoma as his trophy wife.Still, Ifeoma is a titled woman who isn’t easy to control, if she can keep Nero out of her bed—the one place his passion burns hotter than a forge at dawn, consuming her restraint.Trophy Wife is book 6 in the Yadili series. In this enemies-to-lovers romance, the air crackles with tension and the chemistry between the characters is scorching hot, creating a story that will leave you breathless. Themes include unrequited love, he falls first, touch her and die, blended families, and the intoxicating darkness of a mafia romance. A full-length novel. No cliffhanger.

ABOUT THE BOOKTomiwa Oyinlolu is the successful CEO of Purple Chip Professional Services, the IT firm that everyone wants to work for. One day he meets an exuberant woman in the elevator of his office building and she completely mesmerises him. The thing, she shows up at their oral interview panel as one of the ten short-listed candidates from a pool of over a hundred. It is unfortunate she has a connection to the owner of their competitor, One Tech. Worse, his sister has a spy in the rival company and she won’t let him hire the young lady.The problem is, she is a brilliant programmer, and it seems he has fallen for her.Cheerful, high-spirited Ademide Akinseye’s dream has always been to start her career in Purple Chip Professional Services. On the side, she ushers at parties to make ends meet. The man she encounters on her way to interview attentively listens to her light-hearted chatter about her day, philosophies, and plans to join Purple Chip as a programmer. Then she arrives at the job assessment and realises she’s been blabbing to the founder and owner of Purple Chip.Although the cards are stacked against her, she isn’t about to give up on her dreams.Add to your Goodreads to-read list: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/214951137-like-whirlwindDownload your copy now:Selar: https://selar.co/a19z7aAmazon: https://tinyurl.com/WhirlwindAMZApple: https://apple.co/4d1PyBC Kobo: https://tinyurl.com/WhirlwindKobB&N: https://tinyurl.com/WhirlwindNookEverand: https://www.everand.com/book/753049965Books2Read: https://books2read.com/u/mqak8Z Chapter OneAs Tomiwa Oyinlolu strode through the gold-platted doors of Lion Towers’ ten-floor building, his mind was not at ease.Based on what little information Babs had been able to glean for him, the company eyeing the Kehinde Jules account was not to be underestimated. They had handled a few small to medium-sized projects, and the reviews on their work were good. Astonishingly good.He was headed for serious competition with them as rivals in the coming weeks.Feyintola will explode, he thought as he strolled through the wide lobby towards the corridor leading to the elevators. Meeting her this morning was the last thing he wanted to do.He couldn’t fault her, though. She had moved heaven and earth to get them into the bid meetings in Abuja and rung up all her pending favours to ensure they were front and centre. Now they’d passed the first three stages of the bid presentations, the idea of pitching against One Tech, a relatively unknown company, was guaranteed to infuriate her. Who the heck is One Tech?How had they passed all the presentation stages with no sponsor? Who did they know on the inside? What was so great about their app?The elevator dinged as it came to a stop and the doors opened. He pushed away his melancholic thoughts and stepped in, reaching for the control panel when a shriek stopped him.“Hey, hold the doors!”Startled, he kept a finger on the open-door button and waited to see who needed to get on.It didn’t take long. She flew into the elevator like a tumultuous whirlwind, scattering and splattering his emotions around as she entered arms first, fruity fragrance next, into the rectangular space that had been his alone just moments prior.Pretty, aquiline-shaped eyes above a small nose and dainty rose-bud lips arrested his attention at once, along with milk-white teeth as she slowed to a stop, placed a hand over her heart, and burst into boisterous laughter. Light and exuberant, it echoed around the spacious passage and had him mesmerized.“Yeah, they have an elevator! I don’t have to rattle up those stairs with all my baggage.”A one-second sweep of her from head to toe revealed a handbag, a laptop bag, a black manila folder, and a lunch bag. Quite a lot of things to be carrying but not so much they qualified as baggage.‘Thank you,’ she mouthed as she turned around and smiled at him. “The building is huge and modern. I am impressed.”He released his hold on the button.“And I’m never late o! The car just developed a fault right in front of the school compound. Today, of all the days I needed to be on time.”He raised his eyes to her face. Was she talking to him?“I had to take a bike,” she chuckled. “Yes o! I would have been late.”She wasn’t. She had on EarPods and seemed to be on a call with someone.“I’m just praying that Niyi got the mechanic to get it to work.”While she grappled with her phone call, he let his eyes take their time travelling down her svelte frame in the yellow dress and a white, short-sleeved knitted jacket.She had braids on, whipped up into an elegant bun on top of her head. Hoop earrings dangled past her cheeks, and the top button on the jacket was undone, exposing a neckline hinting at two soft swellings that teased his imagination. It was just enough, better than most of it out in the open, in his opinion. Not that he’d even wanted to look.“Okay, I’ll let you know how it goes,” she continued. “Thank you, bye.”The folder was crammed below her chest over her abdomen where the dress followed the shape of her curvy hips to her knees, legs long beneath the hem. A yellow pair of two-strapped, transparent-heeled sandals completed the look.He loved strappy sandals on beautiful women. They were his weakness. Strapped heels with well-manicured toes on slender legs and a lithe frame to go with.“Sir.” Her voice put an end to his ogling. His eyes veered up and encountered her confused look as her eyes moved from his to the control panel. “I’m going to the fourth floor.”He wasn’t the type to stare at girls.Cars, yes. Buildings, maybe. Women…he drew a line at women. Especially if they were this young, this pretty, or somewhere within the sphere of his work-space environment.But he was enchanted—it took him a second to realize the lift wasn’t moving. “Oh.”She whipped out the electronic visitor’s tag she’d been handed at the lobby, but he came alive at once, like a quasi-knight aiming to score some cheap, unusable points with her.He leaned forward, swiped his key card across the scanner, and pressed the number four button without a word. Then, he stepped back to extend a hand across the steel rail running the length of the wall and observe her.“Or was it five?” she muttered as the elevator lifted with a slight bump.Flipping open the cover of the black folder, she studied the A4 sheet on the topmost page for a second, raised her eyes to his, and gave an apologetic little laugh. Her pearly whites flashed at him again. Perfect in their row, no spaces or gaps or discoloration. The gesture had been so dainty and sophisticated, he’d held his breath while watching it.Sweet lollipop, I’m hooked!Her beauty wasn’t the type to make one wild. Like with the girls his brother’s friend, Ade, jokingly termed a HOT Run—‘Hit Once Then Run.’ Girls that weren’t the main dish or the side; not even the dessert. More like the accompanying sweet with the bill at a restaurant, according to them.She was a lollipop. The kind one took time to unwrap and savor and keep.He had enough on his plate without adding the drama of a lollipop. Plus, he didn’t know how to bait a girl and run. It was callous. Offering a job, demanding other things, and bolting out of the door without looking back.“Fifth floor, I’m so sorry, it's number five. Gosh, I am not myself today! Jelly brain, that’s what I am.”Jelly brain? More like jelly-baby, you soft, luscious thing. Ade would have to expand his nomenclature. Desserts and sweets would not just do.She pointed at the control panel. “Number five, please.”He recalled himself and leaned sideways to press the fifth and eighth buttons on the panel. He’d almost forgotten which floor he was headed to.Girls like her were a dime a dozen in the job-hunting space. Many of his friends had taken their pick, had their fill, and paid the price. Not him. Casual hook-ups were not his thing. He had more riding on his name and brand than to let one night of careless craziness ruin things.Yeah, she’s beautiful, but hold your horses.“I’m going for an interview,” she said to him.He froze.There was only one company in the building interviewing today.His.“Purple Chip Professional Services,” she added. “It’s the IT firm to be in. They’re indigenous, pushing frontiers, proudly Nigerian, and breaking boundaries. That’s why I like them.”Interesting!He understood now why she was worried about being late.“I have always wanted to work with them.You have?“Ever since they won that grant from the US and secured the multi-country deal, they’ve been churning out amazing products. Now here I am, invited for their interview, and I’m late. Can you imagine?”Unfortunately for her, the test had started.But the interview, and in that dress, though, yellow? Who wore yellow to an interview?“Well, test. Says so on their invite here.” She tapped the folder.His eyes lowered to the folder and rose to hers.“My sister-in-law says that problems are a sign of great things being in store for you.”She was talking. Again!“So, when your car refuses to start in the morning or you miss a ride on your way to an important interview—” she grinned at him, “—then know that all things are working together for your good!”She was right. His need to travel down to the ground floor to sign off on a delivery was turning out to be a good start to his day.“But I’m freaking out! I need to make the shortlist so I can get a chance to talk to the faces behind the greatest software company in the whole of Lagos. I’m a huge, huge fan of their financial management app, Compound. Don’t get me started on Compound. I could think of a few ways to jazz it up, but then, one step at a time, right? I have to get my foot in through their doors first before I think about changing their codes.”His brow furrowed. Jazz up an award-winning software, was she serious? How old was she exactly? What did she know about coding?The elevator's sudden stop jarred him out of his thoughts, and the doors slid open on the fourth floor. She took a peek out, and he mirrored the gesture. “Not my floor!” She released a quiet sigh.Since there was no one waiting to get on, the doors slid back closed again, and he was glad. It gave him more time to stare at her.His eyes settled on her even-toned, animated face and went exploring again. Symmetry is beauty, he’d read somewhere. The braid bun drew attention to her pretty, expressive eyes and the lips that had been moving a mile a minute, not giving him time enough to admire them.She seemed to notice him staring and suddenly turned shy, averting her eyes and folding her lips together.He’d been told often enough that his quiet and stern outer appearance was vastly different from his soft and mushy inner personality. It took a while before people found out the outside didn’t quite match the inside. He didn’t know what she was reading from his facial expression, but inside, he was umpiring a battle between his yo-yo-ing heartbeat and his logic.She was pretty. Breathtaking, but he had his rules. He tried hard to follow his rules.The side-effects of being a rich, powerful guy at the top of his game meant those rules wavered, wanting to be bent often enough, but he had a firm resolve and the discipline to carry it through.Brand before babes! Brand first, babes later.Babes— probably never.She bounced on one spot, eyes on the elevator doors as if willing the carriage to go faster. This was the moment if ever he was going to get a word in.“You should calm down.”She turned to look at him, halting her fidgeting.“I’m sure you will do just fine.”His voice had come out rich and sonorous in the quiet elevator, and he’d been surprised at how calm and strong it was, considering the anxious pounding of his heart.“I’m nervous. I talk a lot when I’m nervous.”“I noticed.”He was convinced she did cartwheels, as well, whenever she was nervous.“I will. Do fine, that is. I have to. I prepared for this all through my university final year, so...” She chuckled. “But thank you for the vote of confidence, sir.”Sir? The elevator bumped to a stop, and the doors slid open. Do I look that old?“Okay, wish me luck!” She turned to offer him another smile.She looked genuinely excited, so he tipped his head at her. “All the best.”“Thank you! Enjoy your day,” she threw at him as she hurried down the lush red carpeting lining the hallway down to the offices of Purple Chip Professional Services.He stood in the empty elevator for a moment staring at the spot she’d just exited from.As he rode the rest of the way to the eighth floor, he wasn’t doing much worrying again about Kehinde Jules and the contract, or Feyintola’s impending blow-up. He wasn’t even wondering what kind of dirt Babs would have been able to dig up about One Tech or if it would even be useful.He was thinking about the woman who had just waltzed into and out of his life, and how he was going to figure out who she was amidst the throng of candidates milling about on the fifth floor.He had his rules, but she had bent them.

BLURB:Almost a decade has passed since Ewadunni was gifted to Makinde, the fiercest and most feared warrior in all known lands. Resentful of her fate and fearful of her husband, Ewadunni was relieved when Makinde returns from war and immediately renounces everyday life for exile. A wife in nothing but the name, Ewadunni is now renowned as a healer. Older and ready to take advantage of the peaceful times, Ewadunni seeks a formal separation from the husband she despises. When the council of elders coerce Ewadunni into bringing Makinde back from exile if she truly wants a divorce, she is forced to venture into the mysterious forest where she encounters a man who is the opposite of the terrifying warrior she thought she knew.Makinde was born to a clan of warriors and raised to be a war machine serving the needs of rulers as a mercenary. After losing himself to demands of the battlefield, Makinde is forever haunted by spectres and the betrayal of his closest friend, but the years away from society haven't brought the ease and reconnection that Makinde seeks. When the woman who was forced on him appears asking for a divorce, Makinde is all too ready to give it. He never wanted a wife in the first place, no matter how alluring or magnificent Ewadunni might be. Dissolving their hoax of a marriage, however, turns out to be complicated as Makinde finds that he's not quite ready to let his wife go.***ALSO AVAILABLE FROM:Amazon: https://tinyurl.com/SweetestF-AmazonApple: https://tinyurl.com/SweetestF-AppleNook: https://tinyurl.com/SweetestF-NookKobo: https://tinyurl.com/SweetestF-KoboEverand: https://tinyurl.com/SweetestF-EverandBooks2Read: https://books2read.com/u/mlkxNq***Chapter One The forest at dusk cocooned two women in a gentle embrace. During the season before rainfall, a heaviness often hung in the air, but under the canopy of trees, coolness persisted.There’d been a time when two women venturing into the woods unaccompanied spelt certain death. The flora surrounding them didn’t appear thick—the trees were thin, and vines pooled to the ground—yet, if someone stood a few feet ahead, they wouldn’t see anyone. Mercenaries, raiders, and all manner of bloodthirsty men roamed behind the camouflage. Greens, browns, and yellows provided sanctuary for violence to hide and later reveal itself with the element of surprise.Ewadunni shuddered. She often marvelled at the forest’s duplicity. Despite the reassurances of many years of peace and the stronghold that was Kuta, she was no stranger to the wickedness of man.She inhaled deeply to ground herself and traced her fingers along the maroon bark of the orange-milk tree. Her forehead pressed on the tree’s surface, she hummed low in her throat as her eyelids fluttered closed. Humans were nothing like the trees and tender green shrubs marking verdant spaces.Nuzzling closer to the trunk, she quietened her thoughts and listened, then stepped back.“This one says no,” she announced, shaking her head.Balanced on a rock behind her, Jomiloju observed her closely.“Who asks permission before plucking a leaf?” she asked in a teasing tone.“Students under the supervision of Iya Ogele.”Both of them were healers, trained in dealing with reproductive health and childcare. Ewa was senior to Jomiloju—however, they’d grown close from the moment Jomiloju married into the clan. They trained and practiced following the methods of the matriarch Ogele. While Ewa had learned directly from Ogele, the elder lacked the patience to train Jomiloju and had left her in Ewa’s care.Before she’d found her calling in healthcare, Jomiloju had been a raffia-weaver. Once, she’d apprenticed with the potters, and after that, had earned business as a long-distance trader of fabrics. It was how she met Togun, her husband.Ewa easily remembered the day her friend’s pregnancy was announced. Ogele had known beforehand—she could tell even with Jomiloju’s flat stomach. Two months later, a formal announcement was made, and the women of the household gathered to shower blessings on Jomiloju. She was pampered and well taken care of because a pregnant woman couldn’t lack in a household that produced warriors.“Hm.” Jomiloju sounded subdued with the mention of the old woman’s name. She looked at the purple sky. “At this rate, we shall spend the night in the forest.”“Wouldn’t that be an adventure, Jide?” Ewa drew close then squatted low to kiss the child in Jomiloju’s arms. She stroked Jide’s cheek as she started singing softly. “Ojiji will protect us.”“Ha! You always ridicule us for mentioning Ojiji.”“Hush, you.”Just then, Jide released his mother’s nipple to flash a winning grin at Ewa, and her heart clenched gently in response. She began singing.“Anything my child desires, I will buy.”“You are going to spoil this boy,” Jomiloju said, shifting the child at her breast.“He deserves it.”“He certainly does.” Switching her tone to become even more playful, she rubbed her son’s belly. “Is that right, my love?”Ewa stretched to her full height. The sun had continued its descent while they chatted. She had to find another tree willing to depart with the leaves she needed. If they set off in half an hour, they would return home before nightfall.“We’ll be done shortly.” Jomiloju looked up with a guilty smile as she burped her baby.Ewa glanced at her relative. Jomiloju appeared content as she navigated Jide through the stages of feeding.“Take your time,” she said with a small smile.An old, familiar ache twisted awake in the pit of her stomach. As far as she was concerned, motherhood was one of the most tranquil and beautiful aspects of life. How she wished the expression on Jomiloju’s face was transplanted onto hers. If only they could trade places.Then she reminded herself wishes were useless. Ensuring women and children thrived was her true calling. It was why they were out in the forest, chanting to plants for permission before plucking leaves, seeds, and fruits for medication.She tugged at her medicine bag. She’d picked the herbs needed to prepare a concoction to ensure Wonu of the Ojise clan gave birth easily. All that remained were the leaves of the orange-milk tree to prepare a remedy to stop bleeding. Returning at dawn was a possibility, but she liked to be prepared. Wonu was due to enter labour any day from now, and Ewa had been with her earlier in the day.“Before long,” Jomiloju declared. “Before long, you’ll be carrying your own child.”In the ensuing silence, the sounds of the forest erupted as birds called to their mates. Ewa swallowed her discomfort and didn’t solidify Jomiloju’s prayer with an affirmation. Instead, she turned to the trees. Behind her, Jomiloju gasped.“Forgive me, sister.” She rushed to Ewa’s side, fidgeting with the edge her wrap and with Jide still placed over her shoulder. “I didn’t mean to…”“There’s no need to apologise.” She swallowed to keep her voice from shaking. “Our elders say that the visitor doesn’t take the host along as she leaves. Each person faces her destiny alone.”Jomiloju protested with hurried words as she sought to make amends.“I have truly upset you now. Your destiny is bright. You’re beautiful and talented. You are so kind, and you love so deeply.”Ewa’s smile failed to reach her eyes. She quickly drew Jomiloju into a hug. “I’m not upset, aburo, but we must be home before night falls.”“Right.” Jomiloju nodded. “The ámùsè nla tree.”“We will have to resume searching for it tomorrow.”Ewa helped Jomiloju secure Jide on her back. Jomiloju then shrugged her own cloth bag filled with herbs over her right shoulder as they began the trek to Kuta town.There were more plants than humans in the region known as Kuta. Clans lived cheek to cheek in forest clearings, and houses were connected by narrow paths. The forest that shielded villains also protected Kuta and its warriors, in this stronghold forged by mercenaries over a hundred years ago. It boasted ferocious clans of which theirs counted. Kuta stood strong while nearby towns and villages fell to the war. It was a home to men of valour who fiercely defended their homestead.It was also home to one of the greatest warriors the region had seen yet.Presently, Ewa led the way home. With a stick in one hand, she pushed aside the detritus, making sure to sidestep the fiery red ants marching in formation to a location known only to them. She let herself wonder how simple life would have been for her if she were an ant. She would only concern herself with eating and surviving, until a careless human squashed the life out of her. She forced out an exhale. She’d told Jomiloju she wasn’t upset, yet her heart was heavy with longing.War had knocked her life over like a potful of water tumbling off a maiden’s head. The period of insecurity had stolen her choice to dream and to want. When she’d been Jomiloju’s age, it had been enough to breathe in another morning, but now she was older, Ewa badly wanted what her sister by marriage had. It was an ulcer in her side.At nights on her way to the hut she shared with Ogele from the bathing stalls, she encountered happy couples to her left and right. War was over, and the warriors were home to eat and play with their wives and children. That was something Ewa could never have.The path veered to the left at a cluster of bamboo trees. Behind the tilting stalks was a darkened cove, shrubs covering a hole barely wide enough for one to squeeze through. It was unremarkable and easily missed, but Ewa paused as she always did when in this part of the forest. She glared at the path before kissing her teeth and pushing forward. Jomiloju hurried beside her.“Sister Dunni.” Jomiloju cleared her throat before continuing. “I mean no offence…but have you considered going up there?”“Never.”Ewa swung her stick down with more force than she intended. She whispered a quiet apology to the earth and started counting her inhales. Every day, she convinced herself she’d accepted her destiny and was content with the small joys that came with it. The pleasures of ferrying other women safely as they crossed death’s doors while bringing life, of getting lost in the forest and of listening to Ogele’s stories. There were other things that once brought her joy like dancing. However, she had outgrown dances in the square. The last time she’d ventured out at night, the younger girls had gyrated their waists and moved their feet in new moves that had eluded her. They’d sniggered behind their hands at her observance.“Mother, shouldn’t you be at home at this time?” a saucy girl had asked.And so Ewa stopped going. She stayed indoors dreaming of age group gatherings where she could be unfettered. Women her age were busy juggling their professions, their elders, their husbands, and their children. Ewa only had Ogele and her profession, both easily managed because Ogele was an unnameable force even in her advanced age.She was at peace with her life. Yet, anytime she passed by this dark corner of the forest set apart from the main road, white hot anger flared under her skin. She hardly got angry.“I think you should at least attempt to,” Jomiloju said earnestly. “So many years have passed.”Jomiloju’s weakness was in how she didn’t know how to control her tongue. Ogele often warned, “Your mouth is unstoppable yet you don’t know nine times nine.”“Aburo, don’t force me to recall the unfortunate circumstances that brought me here.”Ewa flinched at the harshness of her words. She regretted saying them as Jomiloju sputtered an apology.“I…I’m sorry. I truly meant no harm.”Ewa conjured up mundane memories of her training and focused on them to let go of her anger. She linked arms with Jomiloju. “When we all came to this world, it was with tears, am I wrong? Eventually, the crying stops, and we learn to laugh.”The entrance to town from this side of the forest took them over the moat with cautious steps over the swaying bridge. A tall post engraved with carvings depicting men hunting and at war marked the entrance to the compound Ewa called home in her adulthood. With several homes containing the twenty-eight women, men, and children of the clan, there was always activity. Children played, co-wives argued, hens clucked, and grains were grounded in the kitchen.Lit torches were already burning around the compound. Everywhere smelt like dinner, and it wasn’t long before her stomach grumbled in longing. Leaving Jomiloju to find her husband, she hurried to the nondescript bungalow set in a far back corner. Ogele’s home was a whitewashed building with a wild garden growing to the left and behind its rectangular form.Ogele had taught her how some plants needed to remain wild while others were content when grown by human hands. The majority of the plants in their garden were the vegetables and fruits the family consumed. Past the garden was a secret path leading into the forest Ogele frequented. Ewa had ventured on it two or three times with the older woman. A wrong turn on Ogele’s hidden path, and one could plunge directly into the valley bordering Kuta on the north.In front of the house, the small clay pots Ewa had set to brew on low-burning charcoals before heading out now stood in ash. She hung her medicine bag on one of the wooden hooks by the entrance and went to check on them.“I’m back,” she called.Usually, Ogele sat in her favourite chair enjoying the last of the evening air at this time. As the front yard was empty, Ewa assumed the elder was inside.When she didn’t hear a reply, she ducked in to check. Ogele’s chambers were built for one person, and she easily saw into the bedroom they shared from the front door. Her eyes adjusted to the interior darkness. It was empty. She shrugged. Ogele was probably out causing a scandal somewhere.Out in the night once more, she lit a torch and set it a few paces out front. Next, she warmed up some coal and burnt wild basil on it, to ward off the mosquitoes, and spread a mat on the earth below the extended rafters of the thatched roof. Then she carried out Ogele’s beloved low back chair for whenever the elder decided to show up.Finally, she set to work under the light of the torch, sorting out her freshly picked herbal gifts. Among the three leaves she needed for Wonu’s upcoming delivery, she had managed to coax a shrub to grant her malaria-curing leaves. She would dry those ones first—it was always good to have anti-malaria concoctions around.“Good evening, egbon.”Ewa lifted her head as one of the many children that blessed their compound called out in greeting. She flashed her teeth at the young girl, one of those born after the war that had ripped her from the place she knew as home.“Tope, iya mi, my love, good evening.”Tope approached carrying a tray bearing dish bowls, each covered with raffia woven spheres. She placed it on the mat before Ewa.“We made amala and dried okra soup,” Tope explained as she placed the tray down. “Baba returned from hunting. There is a lot of meat.”“Thank you, sweetness.” Ewa shifted, reaching for the hidden pocket at her waist, and pulled out a string of cowries. She pushed the money into Tope’s hand.“I shouldn’t,” Tope said.“You will upset me if you don’t accept.” She folded the shells in the girl’s right hand. They went through this dance all the time. “Buy something for yourself.”“Thank you!” Tope squealed at the gift. She threw her arms around Ewa’s shoulders.“I have warned you to stop spoiling the children of our clan.” Ogele’s scratchy voice came from the darkness outside the warm spread of the torch.Both girl and woman shrieked at the elder’s entrance. Ogele walked slowly like a monarch, the long edge of her brilliant white wrapper hanging on her left arm. A woven silk shawl was wrapped around her waist, and she wore the same material knotted over her head in a head wrap. The fabric’s dark green colour made the white of her clothes stand out more.“Welcome back, Mother.” Tope knelt down in greeting.Ogele approached and pulled the girl up into a hug.“You can’t leave me out of this affection,” Ogele teased as Tope leapt on her. “Do you love Ewa more than me?”“I love you best, Iya Ogele,” Tope said, her voice muffled in the folds of Ogele’s dress.“Ah!” Ewa shouted, gripping at her forehead with both hands. “So you lied to me when you told me I was your favourite person?”“No way,” Tope objected.They tittered at the good-natured banter. Ogele had become Ewa’s mother and entire family when she’d been transported unwittingly to Kuta. Her journey here had dripped with absolute fear, but now, she covered those dark days up with the positivity Ogele shared with her. It was the price she had to pay, but it wasn’t too bad. Ogele never lacked in affection despite growing up in the midst of war-mongering brothers.As Ogele playfully extracted herself from Tope’s grip, she slipped more money to the girl before sending her off. Once Tope had disappeared, Ogele demanded, “What is for dinner? I am starving.”In the light, the contrast of the dark scarifications on Ogele’s face and arms against her mahogany skin was mesmerising. Ogele carried tattoos all over her body. Ewa had admired them so much, she’d tried to get designs imprinted on her skin, as well. The pain had proven unbearable, but it was taboo to scream or walk away in the tattooist’s compound. That was how her skin had captured a snake on her right side, its tongue extended in a hiss close to her belly button. Ewa grabbed a hollowed-out calabash and fetched water collected in one of the many large pots lining the outer wall. This, they used to wash their hands. She placed the larger bowl in front of the elder and then went to get smaller cups of the spring water they drank. Before they dug in, each offered a ball of food to the earth. They ate together in silence, with Ogele seated on the chair and Ewa curled on the mat at her feet. When they were finished with their meal, Ewa cleared and rinsed the used dishes. As the night fell deeper, they withdrew into the room.“You have done well, my dear,” Ogele said.“I pray that Wonu’s delivery is smooth.” Ewa slipped out of her dusty wrappers and cleaned herself with a damp cotton towel. Then she wrapped a light cloth around her waist.Iya Ogele lay supine on the bed they shared. One lamp burning in the sconce protruding from the wall provided a dim glow, with a row of lamps waiting to be lit. Iya Ogele never slept in darkness, and her lamps burned till sunrise unfailingly.“It will be,” Iya Ogele affirmed. “Meanwhile, I suspect that girl Arinsoye of the Aperin family is with child.”Ewa frowned as she worked at putting a face to the name. She might have seen Arinsoye dancing at the night market four months ago—the girl was as slender as a pole.“I never heard that she’d taken a husband or lover,” Ewa said.“You’ll see,” Iya Ogele replied, smugly. “You should see. I’ve taught you all I know.”Ewa relied on reading the pulse to confirm pregnancies. Ogele eyed her keenly as she began touching fire to the unlit lamps. With each passing moment, the room grew brighter and warmer.“Something troubles you,” Ogele remarked.Ewa sighed. She remained silent until she was done then went to lay on the bed. Ogele waited patiently, and now they were face to face, she prepared her reply. Lying to the elder was futile, especially when Ogele locked eyes with her like this. Saying the words out loud was easier than denying it.“Jomiloju prayed for me while we were gathering,” she began. “She prayed that blessings of childbirth would find me. She wants me to seek that man out.”“And?” Ogele prodded.“And I couldn’t affirm her prayer, but I long to carry my own child.”Ewa shut her eyes against a quivering breath.“You will have them.” Ogele sounded like Jomiloju. She placed a wrinkled hand on Ewa’s stomach, and Ewa covered the elder’s hand with both of hers.“How?”“You forget you are a married woman,” Ogele began. At Ewa’s groan, she warned, “Listen to me.”Ewa prepared to turn her mind away from Ogele’s words. Too polite to object or challenge an elder, she was skilled at not listening while pretending to. She was once extremely stubborn.“Your husband pines for you,” Ogele said. “And you, him.”“Did you go up to see him?” she asked accusingly. It would be a betrayal of her trust.“I’m much too old to brave it,” Ogele replied. “But I raised him, and I know him.”A mother was always quick to overlook her child’s errors. Not Ewa. She would never reveal her true feelings about the man Ogele had raised to the elder’s face. Ewa had witnessed the kind of destruction the region’s bravest warrior left in his wake. Such a violent man was no husband of hers, no matter what the elders said.“You aren’t listening,” Ogele said.“I was.”“Alright, what did I say?” At her sigh, Ogele continued. “You see. Do you recall those days when you attempted to run away from this compound? You never did, even after I gave you the directions. Why?”Because I had nowhere else to go. Because time showed me that my father, his wife, and my sister left me to face war on my own.The answer came readily, but she refused to voice it. Ogele was primed to lecture her about destiny, that she was in Kuta because she was meant to be, and she wasn’t in the mood for this.She let go of Ogele’s hands and turned her back to the older woman.“I am so tired, Iya,” she said, shutting her eyes. “May we sleep to wake up.”“Ase,” Ogele replied, softly.

BLURBIyawa Jaseth, the life of every wild party and the queen of tipsy Instagram escapades, finds herself in a sticky situation. She’s roped into a fake engagement with none other than the guy she can’t stand, Matthias Bade. Matthias only agrees to the sham to settle a debt, and Iyawa hatches a plan. She will make him fall head-over-heels for her, and then she’ll shatter his heart. It becomes a wild challenge between the two. But as the heat rises between them, the carefully constructed walls around Iyawa’s heart begin to crumble. Could Matthias be the one to offer her the love she secretly craves? Or will her wild past be too much for him to handle?Chapter OneIyawa Jaseth had to agree with entrepreneur and financier Mitch Thrower when he said someone wasting your time was far worse than someone wasting your money.And she was sure this man sitting in front of her was only going to waste her time. Was this the consequences of her rebelling? Ten minutes after she got her food, and she was already getting irritated.“Hmm.” He gave her a wink. “What do you say? Can I have your number?”She puffed out as her gaze darted around the restaurant. Not much to see: red chairs and white tables, staff taking orders, people exiting the restaurant with white nylon bags.The man leaned in. She turned her face to meet him and saw his hand land on hers.Why in the world did he smell like he didn’t use cologne? She withdrew her hand as fast as possible.“Yeah, baby. You can pretend you can’t hear me, but I’m not leaving ‘til I get your number.”Her eyebrows set into a straight line as she had a sudden onset of nausea. No, actually, she didn’t hear him.The man reached for her other hand.Iyawa rolled her eyes as she pushed it away. “Okay. Okay. Enough. Oh, I have had enough. Who are you again?”The man shifted in his seat like he hadn’t expected her to talk.She studied him again. He’d dressed up like he was in a rock-and-roll band with metallic chains draped over his neck. How could this guy, who she didn’t even know, walk over to her seat and ask for her number like this? What made him think they were compatible or something? She hated jewellery on men.“The name is Paul. What happened, baby?” he asked, chewing his gum.Iyawa frowned. Where in Ikeja did this man come up again? How couldn’t he see she wasn’t interested? How can he be this desperate?“Okay, Peter. Just so you know, I’m not interested. I don’t even know you. I just want to eat my jollof rice in peace, abeg.”The man’s face pulled into a scowl. “The name is Paul. And I’m sorry if you couldn’t eat because of me. I can’t just leave yet.”She held her hand up. “I’m trying to be nice. I don’t know you, and I don’t want to. I don’t do one-night-stands or whatever, so please, no number is coming from me. Please leave my table.”Paul’s forehead creased. “Excuse me? I…I didn’t say I’m interested in one-night-stands. I just want your number.”“And I said there is no need for it. I don’t want to know you. Is that a problem?” Her voice was getting louder now.Paul looked at the other diners who were now looking at him. “But... But I am—”Iyawa shook her head. “You just came here expecting me to give you my number. Just like that. What effrontery? Do I look cheap?”Paul rubbed his palms together and then—it seemed like he just couldn’t contain it—he smirked.“Oh, I know you well. You are that Iyawa Jaseth everyone is always seeing on the news. Aren’t you the one who likes going to party and all?” he said with a wink.Iyawa glared at him. She knew people in Ikeja wouldn’t forget her past. She was naïve then. It’d been a year since she’d stopped her delinquent lifestyle, but people still liked to tag her to it.“Leave my table before I shout. I can shout pretty well.”Paul scoffed, rising from the seat. “Whatever.”When he had left her table, she brought out a spray bottle from her purse and sprayed the content all in front of her, not paying attention to her food. Paul had been smoking, and she wasn’t about to have his lingering scent remind her of what he’d just said about her past.Good riddance to rubbish. What even was that, Iyawa?Just then, her phone dinged with a text.She reached for her reading glasses in her bag and put them on. She had been using reading glasses ever since she was eighteen. She was used to it but sometimes didn’t like the weight on her nose.Are you okay, Iyawa? Should I come to get you? It’s almost 10 pm. She contemplated whether she should reply. Her sister, Jadesola, would rush here any moment after the passionate argument she’d witnessed back at home.She supported her head with her palm. This was all her father’s fault. That man would seize any moment to cause an argument.Iyawa switched off her phone. “Sorry, Jadesola. But this is my night. No distractions. I just want to have dinner.”She glanced around the restaurant. Some people were still looking at her. By now, she was sure they were beginning to recognize her. The celebrity who once got drunk, went live, and puked.She tried to take a spoon out of her jollof rice but now, it smelled of her perfume.Ah, what a waste. This is all Paul’s fault. The restaurant had looked so promising. One of the reasons why she loved Ikeja. Being the capital of Lagos and a popular city, it had beautiful restaurants and quite some views. Maybe she’d made a good decision coming here, but now, she needed to get home. As they say, being alone at times isn’t good for the mind.Iyawa took a breath, staring at the entrance of the restaurant. Was she ready to go back home? She wanted to stay out late today, but her father would get angry. What kind of parent said such things to their child?Her father had said she was acting like an unserious child just because she’d once had an addiction to partying and drinking. Iyawa birthed the headlines back in those days. Media tagged her the black sheep of her well-known tech family while her sister, Jadesola, was called the successful one.They had been in the car in the parking lot at home, all three of them—her, Jadesola, her father—and her father had been complaining to his driver about how Iyawa’s past would one day come to haunt him and leave him with shame.She had been so embarrassed. They had just been coming from the office. Why did he have to bring her up after the long day at work? She wanted to rest, not to deal with this.With the driver listening, she couldn’t just let it go. Her Popsi had to stop airing her dirty laundry in the public. When the driver made the mistake of glimpsing at her through the mirror, she hadn’t known what got into her to shout back at her father. She didn’t even remember what she had said, but it sure got her father angry.“Don’t you dare use that tone when speaking to me!” he had said when he’d climbed out of the car.“Tell me something, Popsi. How do you expect me to behave when you keep talking about me in front of our staff? What do you want from me? Don’t you ever give up? Leave me alone. I don’t even drink and party anymore.”Her Popsi never liked it when she raised her voice, but she wasn’t even prepared for what came next.“You never listen. God, you are such an unserious, stupid child. Not like your sister!”Iyawa had stared at him in shock. She couldn’t believe her ears.Yes, there were so many things about her mother he wasn’t so glad about. Something he made sure to always tell her while growing up. But it wasn’t like things weren’t mutual between them both, so how dare he? Only her mother had a right to say this, since she was the one who’d carried her for nine months. He didn’t.He had no right at all. Even when Jadesola stood up to their father, she couldn’t still believe he saw her as a mistake.Iyawa might not remember so much about her mother, but she was sure they didn’t view her as a mistake.Her father’s expression had relaxed a bit, but the old man had still gone on.“I don’t know why you make me say things. Why can’t you just be like Jadesola?”Those familiar words haunted her. I am not Jadesola. I’m a different, Popsi. You just can’t see it, she’d wanted to say, but her mouth couldn’t form any words. Her feet glued to the spot, she could only stare at her father.All her life, she’d stayed away from arguments with her father. She didn’t even know why he had brought up her issue. She had silently prayed to God not to let her die from a broken heart.“Popsi, that is just too cruel. I don’t like how you talk to my sister. Can you just let her be?” Jadesola had replied, her eyes twitching with annoyance.That image of Jadesola and the maids looking at her with so much pity made her tummy clench and her blood boil. She hated that look. No one was to look at her with such empathy. She knew she might be a disappointment to him, and maybe she would never be like Jadesola, but no one should give her such a look.Those words he said to her that night? Something a parent should never say. He’d crossed the line.It wasn’t like she really enjoyed her past coming to haunt her. Yes, she was once wild. But that was all gone now. Then, it had just been the only thing to make her feel good. The only thing to make her feel better about herself.But no one had the right to call her a mistake. God didn’t view her as one.“You know what, Popsi? I’m out.” Those were the words she’d managed to say before she’d stormed off.She hung her head and sighed. The only thing he could do was shut her bank account like he always did. Fair punishment.Her phone would be filled with messages from Jadesola assuring her their father meant nothing he’d said. Iyawa loved her half-sister. They might not have been on good terms—sisters with different mothers could be pitted against one another; Iyawa knew this from seeing her college friends’ strained relationship with their half-sisters. But she couldn’t hate Jadesola, even if she had wanted to. They had been best friends since they were young. Where Iyawa had been the stubborn, reckless child, Jadesola was just the sweetest. Jadesola, when she was younger, had once cried because she didn’t like the way Iyawa and her father argued. She had always had this dream of a perfect family. Poor girl.Sometimes, Iyawa agreed with her father. Jadesola was really the perfect, gentle, and brilliant child, and she was a mess. She wasn’t really surprised when he named her the company’s president. Something that should have been Iyawa’s position. The first-born’s job.Her father hadn’t really given her a position yet. She just worked for the betterment of the company.Jadesola. Her sister would be so worried if she came late. Right. No point wallowing here all night. She got up from her seat and sashayed her way to the counter, her hips swaying with grace, her black high-heeled shoes completing her signature look.She could hear some men arguing over the last Champion’s League match and some ladies laughing in another corner of the restaurant.And as soon as they noticed she was looking, they all stared at her. Her dark hair stood out in long waves over her shoulder, with loose curls caressing her face.At the counter, a staff came up to her.“Can I pay my bill now?”The female staff placed a neat glass back into the arranged glass rack and turned to Iyawa with a smile. “Yes, of course. Cash or card?”Iyawa returned her smile. “Card, please. That would be POS, right?”“Yes, ma’am.”As soon as she had gotten her receipt, she turned to go but was stopped by the staff.“Sorry, but you look really familiar, and I can’t place where I’ve seen you.”Iyawa tried smiling.. “I am Iyawa Jaseth.. My father’s company make those popular phones everyone call TeleSparks. You must have seen me on the television.”Her Popsi’s telecommunications company, TeleInc, was a Nigerian electronics and mobile company in Ikeja. TeleInc had expanded to over twenty countries so she was a little surprised this woman didn’t quite know her.The woman shook her head as her eyes widened. “Yeah. Your video, I am sorry about it. Trust me, I know it’s not easy to vomit in public.”Iyawa managed a smile. Everyone knew the story now. She really was the black sheep of the family. It was everywhere. Social media never forgets.At a wedding she attended once, two women were gossiping about her wasting her life.Maybe one day, she will learn to get over it.***Five hours later, Iyawa got out of her Jeep Wrangler and threw her keys to a guard standing in front of the house.She took a deep breath, her heels echoing in the silence as she walked on the long pathway widening out to the front entrance of her father’s magnificent building, one of the biggest on Kling’s Avenue.The old man quite liked luxury. One could tell by the angel fountains at each corner. The white stucco walls of the mansion loomed five stories high, with many lights enclosed along, casting a distant gleam over its surface.A silent prayer tugged at her heart as she approached an expansive entryway with double doors. Please, let Popsi be asleep. I can’t deal with him tonight.Iyawa didn’t know why her father was always worried about her. She was happy with her life. If he hadn’t banned her from having her own house, she wouldn’t even be here.Being a Yoruba lady wasn’t easy. It was forbidden for a lady to leave her father’s house except if she was getting married. To be honest, Iyawa couldn’t stand Yoruba culture and their rules. And the thing she hated most was the mockery given to men or women of marriageable age who refused to tie the knot.Why can’t I just do what I want?When she got inside, an artificial floral fragrance hit her nose. Iyawa sniffed it in. Her sister was so obsessed with the house smelling nice, she had potpourri in every niche of the dwelling.If anyone thought the exterior of the mansion was deluxe, they needed to get inside. Everything was high-end décor. From the valuable and famous artworks and paintings on the white walls to the arched antique windows and chandeliers, her father showed how rich he was.Iyawa halted in her steps and threw her gaze to the decorated high-ceiling. Oh, no.When she got to the sitting room, she found her father seated on the cushioned cream seat. He was a bald, short man with a white beard and icy eyes that showed no emotion.On the table in front of him was a white envelope, and her curiosity got the better of her.Why is he sitting here staring into space? This is not good.She stood frozen in the middle of the room. “Popsi? W… what are you doing here late in the night? You should be asleep by now.”His expression was tight with strain. “What is the time, Iyawa? Just this evening, you walked out on me when I was talking to you, and now, you are just coming back from who knows where.”“What? I—”“Do not let me repeat myself. What is the time? Soro Soke!”Iyawa glanced at her gold wristwatch. She knew when he spoke in Yoruba, he was very angry. “Three-thirty.”Her father placed his hand underneath his chin like he was trying to think. “Three-thirty. Nibo lo lo? I told Jadesola to send texts, but you didn’t reply. There was no reason for you to think you can scare us like that.”Iyawa didn’t respond. How could he ask about her whereabouts when he was the reason she’d turned off her phone? And why was he acting like he cared?“Do you know how worried your sister was? Should a responsible lady be out by this time?” His voice was now high. “Couldn’t you at least check your phone?”She rolled her eyes.“No lady should be out by this time, and definitely not one of the Jaseths.”Her sense of humour took over, and she couldn’t help but let out a sharp laugh. “But I am not out. It’s three-thirty, and I am home. Home with you.”Her father’s frown went deeper. “Would you ever be serious about your life, Iyawa? I told you you needed to straighten out, and I am certain you went out to do nothing of the sort.” “Popsi, you can’t just accuse me with no evidence. I did nothing wrong. I didn’t party this time. If you are wondering why I am coming home this time, I went out to have dinner. You can try to avoid the truth, but you said things a parent should never say to a child.”Playing those words in her mind again made her feel something born of shame and anger.It was typical of her father to use words to attack her. She didn’t remember when their relationship got like this, but she was sure she had not much memory of him ever speaking to her kindly, the way he did to her younger sister. When she was really little, he’d not really taken an interest, but they’d managed to make few conversations about how she was faring in school and the sort.But as she grew older, they began arguing about different things. If it wasn’t about wearing decent clothes or getting a boyfriend at eighteen, it was always something else. There was a time when she was about to graduate from high school and he locked her in her room because he didn’t want her to go to prom. He claimed there were boys ready to devour young girls like her back then.Releasing a harsh breath, her father reached for the white envelope, rose from his seat, and walked forward with stiff dignity, stopping in front of her.He handed it to her. “Take these. Gba lowo mi.”“What is this?” Her brows furrowed.Her father let his glare do the talking.She sighed and grabbed the envelope. There were newspaper cut-outs of headlines talking about something new. Below was a blurred screenshot of her Instagram Live.Iyawa inhaled a deep breath, her mouth thinning with displeasure. She recognized the video. It had been a year since the live video of her drunkenly mimicking her father got out. Popsi was mad when he had first saw it. Why was it resurfacing again?“Haba! When will people stop this? It is my life.”“When will they stop? Maybe when you grow up and act like a woman your age should. Look at your sister, for example. Never once have I stressed over Jadesola. You should be thinking of a bright future, a husband, and not all this macho woman you are forming,” he said, his voice raw and harsh. “Why did you even make this video? Now, it’s out there again. The web never forgets. Everyone still follow your stories, and with new development in the company, this is bad for business.”Iyawa raised her chin, trying hard not to show any emotion. Every day, she dealt with this. Maybe her father didn’t know he did this often. Comparing a child to her sister was so wrong. It was like Jadesola was so much better than her.“I am sorry, Popsi. I can fix this.”“Fix? You can’t even help yourself. I am the one helping you out here. Look, if you were still with your mother—”She released a burst of choked laughter. “Don’t bring my mother into this.”Her father exhaled angrily. “I am just a father who is tired of trying to see to it that his daughter grows up. Don’t you see I am trying so hard to get you a better future? I shouldn’t have let you off for a long time. Now, I think I need to do something.”“Popsi, maybe you should stop trying. I’m tired of making you see I am no longer that lady,” she replied in a low, tormented voice.Tears threatening, she spun around and stormed out of the sitting room. Her father didn’t even bother to call after her. So it was anytime they fought. They would pass altercations until one was ready to give up—usually her. She hurtled up the curved stairs to the hallway leading to her room.When she got there, she slammed the door so hard, the frame on the wall crashed on the marble tiles.She fell flat on the king-size bed, screaming into the pillow.Her lungs were constricting, making it hard for her to breathe. She didn’t like arguing with her father, but no matter how much she tried to show her true self to him, he never understood her. Although Iyawa was plagued by her father’s words, there was still a stab of guilt buried in her chest.Just then, the door opened, and she heard light footsteps. She pinched her lips tight to keep them from trembling.A weight sank into the bed next to her, and she felt the warmth of a hand caressing her hair.“Iyawa, Dad is not in his right senses now. He is just mad the video would get in hands of investors coming to the company. You know I love you. I am so sorry.”Swallowing the sob rising in her throat, she looked up at her sister. Jadesola was averagely tall and caramel-skinned, just like their father. Unlike Iyawa, who had brown skin the colour of espresso. Her mother had always compared her skin to Lupita Nyong’o’s, but even so, Iyawa couldn’t help but notice how different she was from her family members.Her sister was dressed in blue pyjamas, and with her on the bed was a brown tray containing a plate of apples and a black knife.“Jadesola,” Iyawa croaked.A tear fell from her eye. Even with their father’s excessive comparison between her and her sister, Iyawa loved her deeply. She couldn’t bring herself to hate Jadesola, even if she wanted to. She was just seven when Jadesola was born. She’d been the happiest to know she had a baby sister and would draw both of them in her drawing book.When Jadesola’s mother died of cancer two years after giving birth to her, Iyawa made sure she lacked nothing. Jadesola’s mother was a very nice woman who treated Iyawa as her child so her death devastated her—and their father, who then had to raise two girls on his own. Well, with the help of nannies.But while growing up, Iyawa had vowed to be the best sister to Jadesola, and it seemed like Jadesola had made the same vow.Jadesola shifted the tray on the bed and hugged Iyawa, caressing her back. “I don’t know why Popsi keeps doing this. I have to talk to him. This is not cool.”Wiping her tears, she looked at her sister. “No. No. You can’t tell him anything, please. It’ll only make it worse.”Jadesola frowned. “Iyawa, he treats you badly. I won’t take this from him. I don’t care about your ego. Something needs to be done.”“No, Jadesola. Please, just let him be.”“He talks about what you do, yet he doesn’t know you. Who fought for me back in high school when everyone laughed at me for my braces?” Jadesola sighed. “Who was there for me, all those nights I cried about my mother being dead? It was all you.”Iyawa gave a small smile. “Hey, you looked good with braces. Those boys were spewing nonsense.”“Everyone knew my braces phase made me look horrible.” Jadesola cupped Iyawa’s cheeks with her hands. “Please, cheer up. You know I don’t like seeing you sad.”“Did you bring these apples for me? How did you know I have not taken anything?”Jadesola chuckled. “You don’t really eat when you go out to bars. And besides, I didn’t hear you replying Popsi as you used to so I figured you were hungry.”“Ah, you know me better than anyone else.” Iyawa grabbed one of the apples and took a bite. “Thanks for this.”For a moment, silence enveloped the room. It suddenly seemed like her big room wasn’t so big again. She knew the next words her sister was going to say.Iyawa chewed slowly. “Jadesola, don’t ask me that.”Jadesola raised her hand in surrender. “But I am curious. You know I support anything you do, but I just want to know why you go live every time you get drunk.”Iyawa gave her a look. “I also don’t know. At least, you guys have nothing to worry about. I haven’t partied in months now.”“I thank God for you, though.”Thank you, Sis. I wish Popsi can just see this new me and not effects of the past.”“He will. Just give him time.”Iyawa sank back into the bed and reached for another apple. It was like with every apple, her hunger was increasing.It was times like this she was most grateful for her sister. Sometimes, Jadesola didn’t understand her, but at least, she showed Iyawa she was willing to try.

Past experiences made Amogelang close off to love and people. However, after losing her job, circumstances force her to open her home to new housemates. They become sisters who help each other navigate the tribulations of life. Soon, she secures a new job, and there’s a possibility for romance when she meets her new boss, Thobo. But old habits die hard. Will she finally release her fears and allow herself to take a chance on love?TEASER:Amogelang froze, mouth agape as she stared at the gentleman occupying her seat. Dark-skinned and well-groomed in his fitted grey suit, he was drop-dead gorgeous. Or something to that effect.The man glanced at her, eyes dark and compelling.Her breath quickened, and hairs on her nape and arms stood straight. Was that thud-um, thud-um sound her heartbeats?Then he looked away, returning to his breakfast as he swiped through his notepad. Dismissing her as if she didn’t exist or was inconsequential.Amo stiffened, clenching her palm around her phone and struggling not to growl at him to vacate her chair. She was in no mood for arrogant men. Now she had to find another seat?

BLURBDon’t they say two wrongs make a right…or something?Dawn is officially in the struggle zone. Her job is a mess, her side hustle isn’t faring much better, and home doesn’t bring the comfort she needs. Dawn is sinking under the weight of responsibilities and needs some fun to counter all this stress. The best remedy comes in a tall, hunky package who just happens to be emotionally unavailable. Sometimes, hooking up with the wrong guy is the best way to unwind.Red is nursing a broken heart…or at least it feels like one. His on-again-off-again girlfriend is putting him through hell. Surely it won’t hurt to test the waters a bit? A one-night stand with Dawn leaves him wanting more. He has been lonely for too long, and trying to stand on his own feet is hard when there’s no one on his team.Two young lovers are drawn together amid family feuds, secrets and legacies. With emotions running high and betrayals at every turn, Red and Dawn learn the best way to fix broken hearts is with each other.***SAMPLE from Chapter OneFor one efficient wedding loaded with delicious food, the libations proved sorely lacking. What had looked like wine at first glance turned out to be grape juice.“There’s no alcohol,” Dawn said to her best friend Sope over the live band playing fuji classics. “Her family is religious,” Sope replied.Dawn nodded solemnly. The bridal shower yesterday had been a sombre affair dominated by aunties advising the bride to submit to her husband and then warning the bride’s friends about the dangers of pre-marital sex.On a gilded couch on the platform, bride & groom wore matching colours of orange and gold. They made a handsome couple, and as Sope had indeed stated, the groom’s six brothers were eye candy and definitely belonged on a modelling catalogue. While Dawn wished everyone well, she’d only shown up for the party, yet what kind of party could be had without alcohol?“Hold on, see that table? Easy!” Sope gently touched Dawn’s cheek so she wouldn’t crane her head. “You always stare too hard. The table to your left.”Dawn tried her best to be subtle as she glanced left amid the sea of tables decorated with plastic flowers and bronze centre-pieces. Guests milled around, mingling with servers and a few children running unsupervised. Finally, she saw what Sope referred to. About two tables down, she spied men about their age slipping a bottle of vodka back and forth underneath the white tablecloth. She perked up immediately.“Should we ask them?”“You go and ask since you want to be tipsy so bad,” Sope replied. “Wait… See that guy over there?”“Which one?”Sope groaned as Dawn craned her head.Dawn was about to laugh at her friend’s exasperation when she saw him. The straight-backed man with caramel skin, with the friendliest face at the table. He smiled at something his friends were saying while his long fingers shredded a paper napkin on the table.“Ah, you’ve seen him. He’s our type.”It was running joke between them that they found the same kind of man attractive. This one ticked all the boxes; he was tall, his eyes were round and expressive, his broad shoulders fit snugly against the tailored white tunic he wore, his full lips suggested decadent kisses.Dawn perked up. “Should I bring him back? With the alcohol, obviously.”“Both would be nice.” Sope batted her eyes dreamily.Dawn winked at her friend and got up. This would be just like their undergrad days of shameless flirting at Ilorin, before she’d gone for an MBA in the US. Even with the post-graduate degree, her prospects here seemed bleak, and with the restaurant on top, goodness knows her life needed the distraction.She tugged her skin-tight lace dress down. Made by Sope’s tailor with the matching teal fabric chosen for the wedding guests, the outfit hugged all her curves, ankle-length with a slit reaching mid-thigh, the sheer netting over her shoulders and chest showing off her cleavage.Sope wolf-whistled. Dawn tossed her silky straight weave over her shoulder and threw a smile at her friend. She knew she looked good. As she sashayed towards her target, she felt eyes on her. The attention brought a satisfied smile to her face and emboldened her.The men at the table perked up at her approach, except for Mr Sexy. He didn’t notice her until she touched his shoulder.“Hey!” She smiled, amused at the way his brows shot up.Dawn leaned forward, placing one hand on the table’s edge and the other on her hip so he could hear her over the live band but also affording him a view of her breasts. His dark eyes scanned her body, leaving a hint of frisson in their wake before he looked away.

BLURBSet in the vibrant city of Lagos and the mystical realm of Ilu-Orisa, the story centres on Toyin, a descendant of a powerful lineage of devout worshippers of Sango, the Yoruba god of thunder and fire. When her long-time boyfriend selfishly demands she abandons her dreams to become his wife, Toyin invokes the wrath of Sango on him. Unknown to her, Sango seeks to find at least one human who still remembers him. A human who loves him. Bound by fate and destiny, Toyin and Sango embark on a perilous emotional journey to find his lost symbol of authority. As their connection deepens, Sango must confront ancient adversaries, conspiracies and divine alliances and make the ultimate sacrifice for love.Will Toyin’s love be enough to restore Sango to his rightful position, or will they be consumed by the fiery depths of their destiny?SAMPLEThe unthinkable had happened.Ṣango, God of thunder and lightning, was still trying the wrap his head around it. One minute, he’d had his Oṣé in his hand, playing with it; the next, it was gone.Had he dozed off for a second?He shook his head. No, it wasn't possible. He didn't fall asleep except when he wanted to.So, how had he dozed off? Most importantly, how had his Oṣé, his double-bladed axe that represented his authority and served as his battle weapon, disappeared from his hand? His Oṣé—created from the wood of a thousand-year-old Ìrókò tree, its blades forged by the Alágbẹ̀dẹ Òrìṣà, divine blacksmiths on the orders of Olódùmarè in the hottest part of the divine forge—proved small and light enough for him to carry about. Then once in battle, it extended, carrying the weight of the Ìrókò tree from which its handle was made and the heat of the forge from which its blade were crafted. It was a most formidable weapon only he could bear. But he hadn’t had use for it in this form in a long time because there were no longer wars. So, he always conveniently had it on his person. Well, until now.