Amaka Azie's Blog, page 8
April 30, 2020
Teaser Thursday— Starting Over Again
Hello guys! How do you feel about the easing of lockdown in some areas? Hopeful? Anxious? I have mixed feelings,
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April 16, 2020
Teaser Thursday- Thorns And Roses
Hello dearies. How are you all coping with social distancing and self-isolation? I’ve had varying reactions to the situation all
The post Teaser Thursday- Thorns And Roses appeared first on Amaka Azie.
April 2, 2020
Teaser Thursday- Melodies of Love
Hi guys. I’m still in my self-isolation cave and maintaining the social distance advised by healthcare professionals. It’s been hard
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March 19, 2020
Teaser Thursday— The Judge’s Secret
Hello . How is everyone coping with the uncertainty of the Corona virus Pandemic? I’m self isolating for now, and
The post Teaser Thursday— The Judge’s Secret appeared first on Amaka Azie.
March 5, 2020
Amaka’s Golden Books- Bound to Liberty
Hello guys, it’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I missed you all. Did you miss me? … Nope, don’t answer
The post Amaka’s Golden Books- Bound to Liberty appeared first on Amaka Azie.
February 11, 2020
Out Now! The Judge’s Secret
Book title: The Judge’s secret Author: Amaka Azie Genre: Contemporary romance Heat level: Sweet to sensual Blurb: A Dutiful Daughter
The post Out Now! The Judge’s Secret appeared first on Amaka Azie.
February 6, 2020
Teaser Thursday — The Judges’s Secret
As promised, here’s another glimpse at a segment of Chapter One.
February 5, 2020
February 19, 2018
The Senator's Daughter... Coming Soon
Yes, there would be casualties. Unfortunate, but like any war, inevitable. He had no choice. They had tried everything in their power to get the senator to admit his wrong, to stop his greed from destroying more lives. They had failed. The legal system had failed them.
This left only one way to get Senator Obaseki’s attention.
Nosa glanced into the compound from where he was discreetly parked. His eyes skimmed over the pink bungalow, the pink Lamborghini and the bright red Rolls-Royce Phantom, and then stopped at her bodyguard’s black Jeep parked at the corner of the building.
Yes, there was only one way to get the senator’s attention.
Nosa sucked his teeth. Only when citizens took matters into their hands, did politicians stop to consider options other than padding their pockets with money to the detriment of the masses. Only when things became very personal did politicians think about people other than themselves.
He eyed the bungalow one last time as the lights went out, announcing Little Miss Princess’ bedtime and the end of today’s watch. Unfortunately, she was caught in a crossfire having nothing to do with her, and everything to do with her father.
It was about to get very personal for Senator Obaseki.
This left only one way to get Senator Obaseki’s attention.
Nosa glanced into the compound from where he was discreetly parked. His eyes skimmed over the pink bungalow, the pink Lamborghini and the bright red Rolls-Royce Phantom, and then stopped at her bodyguard’s black Jeep parked at the corner of the building.
Yes, there was only one way to get the senator’s attention.
Nosa sucked his teeth. Only when citizens took matters into their hands, did politicians stop to consider options other than padding their pockets with money to the detriment of the masses. Only when things became very personal did politicians think about people other than themselves.
He eyed the bungalow one last time as the lights went out, announcing Little Miss Princess’ bedtime and the end of today’s watch. Unfortunately, she was caught in a crossfire having nothing to do with her, and everything to do with her father.
It was about to get very personal for Senator Obaseki.
June 10, 2017
Starting over Again...Divorce in Nigeria
A little teaser from my upcoming novel, Starting over Again...
I have found that sometimes, divorced women in Nigeria feel judged by society, and more harshly than divorced men. Do you agree? What are your thoughts ?
“On your way home I see,” Onome heard a voice behind her. She turned to find Emeka, one of the managers, walking towards the elevator, behind her. She smiled, nodded and waited for him to catch up with her.
“Yes, but I have to pick up my daughter from the childminder’s first,” Onome said, pressing the button beside the elevator.
“I didn’t know you were married,” Emeka remarked. They stood side-by-side, waiting for the elevator to arrive. A few other people had since joined behind them, also waiting for the elevator. Onome wondered briefly whether to lie about her marital status. The strangers behind them didn’t need to know her business.
“I’m divorced,” she replied in hushed tones slightly embarrassed.
“Oh,” he gulped.
Onome saw the flash of surprise in his eyes before the elevator door sprang open. They walked in along with a handful of people. As the elevator descended, Onome felt a rush of irritation gather inside her tummy.
“Oh what, Emeka?” she asked him, unable to keep the irritation from slipping into her tone.
“Nothing, it’s just that you don’t seem like the divorced kind.”
“And what kind is that?” Onome asked incredulously, finding it hard to believe that someone as educated and enlightened as Emeka could reason this way. There was a voice in her head telling her to ignore him, that he wasn’t worth her annoyance, but she couldn’t seem to obey that voice.
“Well, you know how divorced women are.”
“No, I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” Onome’s voice was louder than she wanted it to be, but Emeka had hit a sore nerve with his flippant comment.
Quickly glancing around, she noticed the uncomfortable expressions on the faces of the other occupants on the elevator. They averted their gazes from the corner where she and Emeka stood, probably wishing to get to the ground floor instantaneously.
“You know, divorced bitches… I’m paying you a compliment. You are not like those divorced bitches.”
“Paying me a compliment,” Onome repeated, shaking her head in disbelief.
A few people in the elevator snickered. “For your information, Emeka, not everyone who is divorced is the devil. And why is the woman always blamed, called a bitch? Why not the man? Eh?” She heard someone chuckle.
“Get off your judgmental high horse,” Onome continued, bolder now that she was on a roll. She glanced at his finger. “I know for a fact that you are married. Yet you prance around the office without wearing your wedding ring, and flirting with female staff on the third floor. Keep that up and you will soon join me in the land of divorce to become a fellow divorced bitch.” Loud laughter erupted at her comment. The elevator chose that moment to chime, indicating that they had reached the ground floor.
As everyone exited, Onome noted the few glances of admiration that were thrown her way. An elderly gentleman winked at her before walking away. Their support warmed her heart. She stepped out of the elevator with her head held high.
“I was just playing o,” Emeka called after her, but she was already walking confidently ahead of him, a broad smile brightening her face. She was glad she had put him in his place. Never again would she hide her divorce status. Yes, her marriage didn’t work out. So bloody what? It neither made her a terrible person nor did it give her a reason to be ashamed.
The short trek to the car park kept Onome’s adrenaline pumping. She usually avoided confrontation. In the past, she always sought approval from others and habitually conceded arguments and let people trample on her. But since her divorce, she had become bolder. Maybe this change arose from having to defend herself so much or constantly fighting for Fejiro’s welfare without any support. Whatever the reason, she liked the new Onome. And this Onome was no pushover. If this made her a divorced bitch, then she would wear that title as a badge of honour.
I have found that sometimes, divorced women in Nigeria feel judged by society, and more harshly than divorced men. Do you agree? What are your thoughts ?
“On your way home I see,” Onome heard a voice behind her. She turned to find Emeka, one of the managers, walking towards the elevator, behind her. She smiled, nodded and waited for him to catch up with her.
“Yes, but I have to pick up my daughter from the childminder’s first,” Onome said, pressing the button beside the elevator.
“I didn’t know you were married,” Emeka remarked. They stood side-by-side, waiting for the elevator to arrive. A few other people had since joined behind them, also waiting for the elevator. Onome wondered briefly whether to lie about her marital status. The strangers behind them didn’t need to know her business.
“I’m divorced,” she replied in hushed tones slightly embarrassed.
“Oh,” he gulped.
Onome saw the flash of surprise in his eyes before the elevator door sprang open. They walked in along with a handful of people. As the elevator descended, Onome felt a rush of irritation gather inside her tummy.
“Oh what, Emeka?” she asked him, unable to keep the irritation from slipping into her tone.
“Nothing, it’s just that you don’t seem like the divorced kind.”
“And what kind is that?” Onome asked incredulously, finding it hard to believe that someone as educated and enlightened as Emeka could reason this way. There was a voice in her head telling her to ignore him, that he wasn’t worth her annoyance, but she couldn’t seem to obey that voice.
“Well, you know how divorced women are.”
“No, I don’t. Enlighten me, please.” Onome’s voice was louder than she wanted it to be, but Emeka had hit a sore nerve with his flippant comment.
Quickly glancing around, she noticed the uncomfortable expressions on the faces of the other occupants on the elevator. They averted their gazes from the corner where she and Emeka stood, probably wishing to get to the ground floor instantaneously.
“You know, divorced bitches… I’m paying you a compliment. You are not like those divorced bitches.”
“Paying me a compliment,” Onome repeated, shaking her head in disbelief.
A few people in the elevator snickered. “For your information, Emeka, not everyone who is divorced is the devil. And why is the woman always blamed, called a bitch? Why not the man? Eh?” She heard someone chuckle.
“Get off your judgmental high horse,” Onome continued, bolder now that she was on a roll. She glanced at his finger. “I know for a fact that you are married. Yet you prance around the office without wearing your wedding ring, and flirting with female staff on the third floor. Keep that up and you will soon join me in the land of divorce to become a fellow divorced bitch.” Loud laughter erupted at her comment. The elevator chose that moment to chime, indicating that they had reached the ground floor.
As everyone exited, Onome noted the few glances of admiration that were thrown her way. An elderly gentleman winked at her before walking away. Their support warmed her heart. She stepped out of the elevator with her head held high.
“I was just playing o,” Emeka called after her, but she was already walking confidently ahead of him, a broad smile brightening her face. She was glad she had put him in his place. Never again would she hide her divorce status. Yes, her marriage didn’t work out. So bloody what? It neither made her a terrible person nor did it give her a reason to be ashamed.
The short trek to the car park kept Onome’s adrenaline pumping. She usually avoided confrontation. In the past, she always sought approval from others and habitually conceded arguments and let people trample on her. But since her divorce, she had become bolder. Maybe this change arose from having to defend herself so much or constantly fighting for Fejiro’s welfare without any support. Whatever the reason, she liked the new Onome. And this Onome was no pushover. If this made her a divorced bitch, then she would wear that title as a badge of honour.
