Sunday 18 February 2018

Decoration of Faith (The story of Hannah)


Blurb

When a woman gets married, everyone expects her to get pregnant immediately. Whereby it doesn't happen the woman goes through ridicule and misery.  This is the story of Hannah and Elkanah in the Bible. 
Decoration of Faith talks about their love, their faith and their quest for a child. After all they went through, God decorated their faith by giving them, Samuel.


Link  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B079WGNNGG




-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


CHAPTER 1


A bray of laughter filtered out from an inner room to the outer court where Elkanah sat, his ear tilted unconsciously towards the direction of the laughter. Out of the cacophony of laughing voices, one ringed out distinctly. The abandonment of the laughter and the bell-like tinkling quality caught his attention. It rang with joy and must have come from a free-spirited maiden.
Obviously, only a maiden with a good heart and uncluttered spirit could easily produce such pleasant sounding laughter.
Elkanah wondered if the maiden who produced such resonant laughter would be pleasant to the eyes as her voice was pleasant to the ears.  He strained his ears to pick out the voice from the chatting voices coming out of the room.
He would love to see the maiden with such a rich voice and sweet laughter, but as tradition goes, he wasn't sure it would be possible soon. He knew his friend Hezron had three younger sisters; he had met two on his previous visit. The third and the eldest went to visit her mother’s sister then.
Having met with the other two, it would be reasonable to conclude the voice belonged to the unknown sister, but then he couldn’t be too sure; there might be some friends with them. So engrossed was he in his musing he failed to hear Hezron speak to him. A poke in the rib jarred him into consciousness.
“Hi champ, where are you?” Hezron's eyes twinkled with amusement.
Elkanah blinked and smiled obligingly at his friend. “My mind is on food.” The lie came effortlessly out of his mouth.
Hezron’s smile broadened. “Like I knew, I was asking if we will stay for dinner and sneak back to camp in the night.” He arched his brow.
Elkanah smiled mischievously. Hezron took it as a yes.
“If we get caught, we dig trench tomorrow,” Hezron said, an equally mischievous grin on his face.
“No, they won’t catch us; Kaba and Boaz are on night watch, we will enter through either of their posts,” Elkanah informed him.
“That’s good news, so dinner is a settled issue, then.”
“Sure.” They exchanged a high five.
Hezron looked at his mother, who was watching them, her knitting suspended. “Ma, how about fixing a feast for us poor starved soldiers of the people?” he smiled ruefully at his mother.
Ma Miriam beamed. “Indeed, it’s going to be a feast, my soldiers eat as ferocious as a lion. At times I wonder if it is only berries and wild honey they feed you in camp.”
“Berries and wild honey,” Elkanah repeated thoughtfully. “In fact Ma, you’re right. That is the appropriate name to call what they give us in camp as food. No wonder, after eating, I look for the food in my stomach.”
Ma Miriam laughed. Of all Hezron’s friends he brought home from time to time, she liked Elkanah more, right from the first day he came home with her son. He was a cheerful and friendly lad with a good sense of humour.
She took her knitting and left. It meant they would have an early dinner, so the boys would get back to camp on time.
Just then Hezron’s father came in from the field. “Welcome, Pa.” The boys stood up to greet Pa Zorah.
“My boys, how is the camp?” He beamed at them.  “Fine, sir.” They answered together.
“Are you home on break or passing through on an errand?”
They exchanged brief glances.
“Actually, Pa, we came for a quick visit, maybe an hour or two, then we will be on our way back,” Hezron answered, avoiding his father’s stare.
“Did you come with the camp commandant’s permission?”
“Not quite, sir,” Elkanah answered.
Hezron butted in. “The thing is, there has been peace and inactivity in the camp for one week now and everybody is told to relax and have a bit of fun.”
Elkanah smiled. Trust Hezron to come up with a perfect answer.
“Hmm, I see.” He eyed the boys shrewdly. He knew his son as a restless lad; it wasn’t out of character he chose to come home over spending the day in camp in idleness. “Where are your sisters?” 
“In their room, they don’t know I’m around yet. We came in a few minutes ago. But I will see them before dinnertime.”
“You’re staying for dinner, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your mother, where is she? Is she aware?”
“Yes, sir, she went towards the kitchen.”
“In that case, the servants are bringing in the grapes from the field, we started harvesting today. Two of you should go to the garner and see to it that the fruits are packed well. I want to go and wash up before I meet the ladies.”
“No problem, sir, we will go right away.” They turned and left.

Friday 16 February 2018

Fighting Emotion (Young Adult Romance Series 1)



About the book



When a man loves a woman, he will do anything to win her love. Fred is ready to play the fool to get Ifeoma to accept his love for her is genuine.

Ifeoma is afraid to lose her heart to a man with a reputation, one who has left a trail of girls heartbroken. She has to fight her emotion and fight him off to avoid the inevitable.



You want to read the rest of the book? keep a date here or get a free copy @
https://okadabooks.com/user/Ladyzizi

Thursday 15 February 2018

Fighting Emotion (2)







Chapter Two

Fred sat on his bed in the male hostel staring off into nothing, his brain muddled with thoughts that escalated
his heartbeat above normal. He had no reason to spend Friday night in his hostel room, he preferred weekends away at a room he shared with a friend in town. Worst still, he had no pressing need or reasonable reason to set up his easel and paint but that’s exactly what his heart was urging him to do.
   Deep in his heart, he knew it was because of her, and he didn't even know her name or department. Who was she and why had she remained fixated on his brain all through the week? Not willing to examine it critically, he got up and got busy, selecting paints and brushes and other art materials he would need for the day, he packed them inside his knapsack and made sure all other items he needed were intact.
    He put on his work clothes, and as the first break of light streaked across the sky, he eased out of the room loaded down with bag, board, and table. He went to the exact location they met a week earlier and set up his easel.
   His body taut with anticipation, he went about his chores, made a selection of brushes, mixed the colours and with less attention he would have put into his work if it was classwork or a client’s work, Fred splashed colours on his board as he tried to capture the trees in the field.
   After thirty minutes of constantly looking behind his shoulder, Fred, berating himself for his stupidity wondered why a mere encounter with an unknown girl should be a source of emotional chaos in his life.
    Suddenly his body tingled and his toes curled excitedly, a sensation he never noticed before. He turned and saw her from a distance in sports gear.
***
   Ifeoma saw the lone figure in the distance and told herself to avert her eyes and walk straight to her hostel, but on the brink of taking the right turn towards her hostel, she looked up to steal a furtive glance, and as their eyes met, a shiver went through her body like an electric jolt.
   She was bent on ignoring him and the reaction of her body when he raised his hand towards her in greeting. Her footsteps faltered, she looked at him and then at her hostel gate, and against her will, her legs decided for her by walking towards him. Feeling betrayed by one of her body parts, her face tightened into a mask of anger. 

***
   Joy like he never experienced before surged through Fred's body as he watched her advancing with bounced determined steps as one walking towards a battlefield. Spitfire, as the word, echoed in his head a huge smile broke over his face. 

***
   Ifeoma sucked in her breath at the transformation, all the sharp angles of his face relaxed with the smile, he stood poised, tall and handsome; a picture of a male model. Heart-breaker, her head cautioned, but already there was a mutiny between her head and her heart, each was determined to go their separate ways. And even her body's treacherous reaction was an indication it wouldn't listen to her brain when it comes to him. 

***
   “Hi, I’m Fred.” He stretched out his right hand. “That’s if you wouldn’t mind having a splotch of colour on your hand.”
   Ifeoma hesitated for a second and thrust out her hand into his. Once again she felt the jolt, stronger and withdrew her hand hastily. He was invading her space consciously or unconsciously, and she was determined to find out why. 
   “You took off quite unexpectedly last week.” The smile on his face appeared stupid against her grim visage.
   “Do you come here every Saturday to paint, because apart from last week, I haven’t seen you here before?”
   The huskiness of her voice stirred Fred the more, her voice had none of the girly and flirtatious undertones of the girls who usually flocked around him. Stifling a smile, he asked. “Do you go for your gymnastic classes every Saturday morning?”
   A wry amusement glinted in her eyes. “You actually believed that?”
   “Do I have reasons to doubt you?” he looked her up suavely.
   She snorted. “Gymnastic, my foot.”
   "But seriously, weird things happen. With your dainty configuration, I wouldn't put it past you, you have the body for it and also an undertone of compact energy.”
   A body, wired like a firework that would go up in flames of passion with just a touch. His lips curved into a smile at his licentious thought.
   “Thanks, maybe I will consider taking it up for real.” She glanced at his canvas. “Last week you were so intense with your painting, today you’re relaxed.”
   He looked at his board, wet his brush, twirled it inside a colour palette and splashed it on the board in geometric strokes."Last week I have an assignment to submit on Monday morning. This week, the only reason I'm here is just to see you."
   Because he wasn’t looking at her, he didn’t see the alarm that jumped into her eyes. “Why are you here to see me?” Eyes narrowed, she waited for his answer.
   “Last week, you took off before we could be properly introduced…” he paused and turned to her. “We have an unfinished introduction to conclude.” He grinned. “I’m Fred Ibe, a part three student of Fine and Applied Art.”
   At her silence, he raised his brow and waited. Reluctantly she caved in. "I'm Ifeoma Jonathan, a first-year student of Secretarial Administration."
   Fresh meat. He hoped no guy had lay claim to her. There's always a mad rush every year by guys to acquire girlfriends from amongst the new students referred to as ‘fresh meat'. He grinned as his look turned to appraisal.
   "Yes, fresh meat," Ifeoma said reading his thought and look accurately.
   His grin widened. “Has any guy been territorial?”
   The appreciative gleam in his eyes made her voice hardened. “I was sent here by my parents to learn how to bang a typewriter and decode shorthand, not to bang guys or decode their lies.”
   His voice rang out in a deep, throaty male laugh. Another word, Feisty, popped into his head. As his thought roamed wild, his eyes roamed over her body, ‘bang’, how apt the comparison.
   His mind wandered into forbidden territory, as he wondered what it would be like to have her beneath him on a bed, his hands roaming over her body, her tight lips melting under his kiss and their bodies joined in a banging sensation. Just imagining the action gave him a hard-on. He shook his head to dispel the lustful picture his mind had conjured. 
   “I guess any guy who makes an attempt at toasting you will have his head roasted, even before the words come out of his mouth.”
   “Precisely! I’m glad you got the message loud and clear before you start scheming lines in your head.” Ifeoma said without a grain of smile on her face.
   His smile never wavered as he stared at her steadily. That’s my girl, his heart sang, he didn’t know where the line came from, right now he looked and thought like a man besotted. No woman had ever made his heart flipped; he had never had a compelling urge to possess a woman like he felt right now.
   Women fell into his laps in doves, and he had always taken his pick, enjoy the short rumble and tumble; short because none have been able to sustain his interest for long. His longest relationship lasted six months, not that he wanted it that way, but he discovered too late that Anastasia had long claws that were hard to unclasp. It took him months to pull her talons out of his life; she was beautiful but emotionally insecure, he got tired of assuaging her ego and breaking loose wasn’t as easy as he thought. He was just recovering from that experience.
   As he watched her walk away, he knew she belongs to him and he would go after her with every arsenal in his possession. His primordial instinct heightened at the thought of the chase ahead, the hunted had turned the hunter. A trickle of excitement ran down his spine. Gosh! Was he ready to make a fool of himself because of a woman? The stupid grin that broke over his face was answer enough. Insanity just knocked at his door and he was ready to go out of his way to embrace it happily and willingly.


Links:  https://okadabooks.com/user/Ladyzizi
             http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/ngozi2000
            https://www.amazon.com/…/B077PC2GXH/ref=cm_sw_r_fa_dp_t2_N-…
...

Mr Omoruyi Uwuigiaren, Cartoonist & Writer

Author's Hangout with Zizi Mr Omoruyi Uwuigiaren, popularly known as Ruyi, is a former freelance cartoonist at Vanguard Newspapers.  He ...