CitiMart Magazine is a city magazine anchored in Anambra State and Spreading to other states of Nigeria.

We created a column for fiction/real life stories for our readers' pleasure. To this end, we are calling for novels/stories from interested authors. The author will get good publicity and more fan base plus a space to advertise other works thereby generating more sales if there is commercial intent.
We are looking for stories with Anambra state plot presently.

Contact Samuel at mrwhistler316 at gmail dot com (mrwhistler316@gmail.com) for more info and rapport.

Am interested .

I can write different kinds of stories base on the type you want.


Also i am poet, prose, drama writer.

I will email you-so that we can discuss further.

Businessinfo: Am interested .

I will email you

Ok.

Must the story be Anambra based? I dont know that place o! haven't even been there but I am a good writer. you can contact me at jadejay090@gmail.com

Hi,am very interested, because am a writer that has lots of Anambra contents in my stories.

[quote author=blessykina]Hi,am very interested, because am a writer that has lots of Anambra contents in my stories.This is my email bikokwu@yahoo.com.Mobile 07032531275.

A tip of what i could do.......

Message
By Mc ’D’ Angelo Kosisochukwu Uhio (08064004317)

Chapter 1

“What will I do to gain your love? I could barely sleep ever since I set my eye on you. I could not eat either. You have taken my soul and joy away. You are beauty to behold”

“I am indeed flattered.” A gorgeous damsel had drawled.

“Listen angel, all I have said came deep down my heart. It would not be my purpose to flatter you. I wish this heart would be split apart and the content exposed, my love and ardor for you. There you will see your name Cynthia. There you certainly will see your face and name graved ordinate and indelible in my soul.” Trick did avow in a toady, mellifluous and wooing character, all most with a persuasive sob. Sadly, it was an imperceptible façade as it isn’t in his heart as it appears on his face, his seriousness and faked meek manners.

“I barely know what to say, your words are mesmerizing.” The terrific damsel blurted, timidly.

“Baby, just say you love me, take me into your life. That is it and we will start from there……surely you would never regret it” He implored innocuously, with conspicuous persuasion and dissuading beseech. Trick face was grimaced into an absolute affection and severity, stern somberness that depicts unquantifiable ardor and sheer solemnity but he was merely imposing himself and dissuading the young beautiful and endowed lass with hypocritical promise of romantic love which he had never known, an immodest chimera.

“Would I avow love for you when in essence I barely know you? I do not know what you do, neither do I know your abode or rather your name,” Cynthia expressed with dismay, with a glint of antipathy radiant in her eye and puzzled manner. Yet her grimace would not hide her beauty or mask her submissive manner. “Beside I am very young and still in school. I do not want anything to impinge or distract my educational ambition. It is a priority.” She had unequivocally divulged, discordantly.

“Oh! That is so nice; you are quite intelligent and focused. That is very interesting to hear. It is awfully rare to see people with such inclination and dedication to education in this era. Education is no more a priority, it has ostensibly been flouted” Trick responded with a furtive desire to flow inline, to fake love and interest in education as well.

“Well it is a foremost priority to me,” she critically declared yet again. “So, haven’t I spoken to you my mind, now may I leave?” Cynthia insists and at once steered sideways. Trick was stationed vertical before her with attractive expression of a meek and astoundingly gentle fellow. Completely he masked his overriding pride, arrogance and treacherous temperaments. He sought to entice the girl with fake mild and ostensibly displayed innocuous character. Nonetheless, he had well played his game and concealed his real self, his treacherous manner.

“Aren’t you yet to give me an answer,” He demands with wry face, with conspicuous preparedness for a snub. Nonetheless, He did discern Cynthia’s prevailing antipathy for immoralities and Cynthia had not failed as well to show her revulsion, her sheer dislike for immoral. “You should let me know here and now our status mutually. I know you could discern this irresistible love, our unmistakable parallel future, and blissful life as one.” He asserted tamely in a calm tone, submissively, a manner that befits the quite blonde evening sun and convivial weather apt for leisure, for romantic moment, unfortunately his phony character was a betrayal of the soothing sunset. Yet his meek composure and soothing tone seems to come from the mild sun, or rather gain its strength from the leisure apt sunset, comforting the body with delight and warmth. He spoke with an overwhelming enthusiasm and enticing measured tone, yet a value and exceptional attributes of the gentlemen or rather “Angels” he would always deceivingly portray himself as. He at all times had endeavored to present a proper and responsible but illusory character, a bogus status and image to his unsuspecting victims, in particular the young mild ladies.

“Isn’t what I have said a cogent reason. Perhaps I should let you know I am barely eighteen” The chic breathed out with revulsion, with sudden palpable exasperation. She has walked almost a half pole, while Trick continued desirously to trail and gape at her glittering skin and her elegant gaits, undoubtedly the luring wobble of her titanic hips. He had almost been knocked down, but for a gentle and remissive man navigating a yellow Toyota model car, with a conspicuous inscription of “Taxi” at the doors and a mounted advertorial at the roof like the crown on a matured rooster cranium. There was an unambiguous message on the advertorial board, both unhidden sides, “ALWAYS PLAY SAFE” as well as “BEST LATE THAN BE LATE.” These are comprehensible messages etched on purpose and impressive on the boards. The coolheaded and remissive man had deafeningly and insistently honked his horn like one honk for obstinate and unruly cows on parade at highway, agitated and worried. He had been honking sporadically for Trick to scuttle and desert his fortuitous, death defying and dangerous spot at center of the road. Though, he was tentatively amused at the lost, unconscious and befuddled lad whose soul had with infatuation or amoral, with unspeakable lust depart with a beautiful and charismatic lass. a girl he unquenchably longs for and had immodestly sought to woo against all odds.

Trick had hastily dashed out of the way to a close by kiosk to inexorably endure and assuage his inmost pain and outright bewitch. Sadly the girl had refused to yield in his despicable overture. He knew he had ridiculed himself before the eye of passerby’s. His consciousness had riposte with the startling and insistently blared horn. That had efficaciously brought him back to life and then he realized he had been standing fixed, besieged and befuddled on motorways, at detriment of his life. However, he did took a packet of Benson from a plastic basket with assorted variety of cigarettes, and then sat at a typical bench kept for unhurried smokers at the kiosk, dust bathed and barely strong, beneath a scarcely grown orange tree to smooth and calm his fretful soul.

“Please! May I have your lighter?” He posed to an average height and dark Hausa man with unattractive goatee. He is the kiosk owner. He was indubitably unable to understand him, his mesmeric grammars.

“Please lighter.” He sought halfhearted while gawking engulfed and embattled down the road the stunning damsel had trailed. The confused Hausa man had through the window of his kiosk poked his head and chest out and did almost lay over his sampling ware’s in effort to glimpse what the Youngman had his gaze on or conjecture what he had asked for.

“What is wrong? I need a lighter, lighter.” Trick gestured with his hand, with a finger snap similar to stroking a lighter. Hurriedly the puzzled man with a bitter kola in his mouth, the Hausa type ‘Gworo’ which has same ugly color with his teeth’s took a lighter from his breast pocket and handed over to Trick. He light the cigarette and puff a mouthful smoke like an ignited engine does through the exhaust pipe, especially a car in need of total repairs. His mind and part of him that had gone with the beautiful girl gently began to arrive and settle, peacefully.

“My friend,” He had amiably called with a cheerful and curious beam on his face “Do you know the beautiful girl I in a moment ago spoke with. You may have seen her around here prior to this instant.” He inquired with curio, with obvious interest and obsession. Although the Aboki man kept starring dumfounded and lost at him, his words where too indistinct unlike the Pidgin English usually spoken to him. He was with an air of obvious lost and ignorant observing the young baffled man. Then he was spurred for an involuntary hilarity with Trick, even with no clue of his source of happiness, reciprocally they laughed in hysteric like two drunks relishing or disdaining their challenging mood. The charmed lad had mocked and chaffed the benighted kiosk-owner for his inability to understand or provide an answer to his inquisitive inquest, maybe provide astonishing details of the girl. Alas, his friend may have mocked his ignorance however.

“Well don’t bother I think I know what to do.” Trick uttered with a sudden frown, with obvious disappointment. “She isn’t a ghost; her details won’t be in the sticks in this hood.” He spoke audibly to himself yet like a pathological drunk. He had assured himself of an arrogant and depraved courtship with the lass by hooks or crooks definitely though.
He relies exceedingly in his illusive abilities, innocuous and illusory humble looks. Trick believed in his silver tongue to achieve his devious heart desires at any given moment. He had always entrap and held captive his victims with his silver and sugar coated tongue, in particular ladies with unguided appeal for swanky guy’s and posh life. He is undoubtedly handsome and brawny with unassuming and captivating smile that shroud his true self and utter ego. Trick is barely 25yrs old with unquantifiable lust and appetite for women, though a personal driver of chief Odumegwu. Hitherto, he would at all time never fail to egoistically present’s himself as son of the famous and wealthy politician. He is a wolf in sheep pelt or color, more fittingly, a chameleon famed for its multifarious unpredictable colors.

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I'm nobody, but I'm passionate of words. I can ghostwrite anythang on any fields, and concepts. A trial surely wouldn't let you off.

As a artist, actor, author, dramalist, poet, psalmist
I could write you music, in any genre, play, including Gospel, and effective psalms to seek Gad and doxology to adore Gad. I will write a story long or short, grammatically basically to soothing the reader's mind and commanding their attentions. Love and life quotations, poems on every spheres of life. Wisdom articles and more. I'm more then the above. But unlike GAD all above.
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