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Hello everyone 👋🏽

I’m excited to officially announce that my fiction novel The Queen and the Lycan is now available on Amazon for purchase and reading 📚🔥

Hello everyone,

Quick question 👀
Do you enjoy **romance mixed with power, mystery, and supernatural twists**?

I’m happy to share that my novel **The Queen and the Lycan** is now available on **Amazon**:

📕 Paperback edition — available globally
📱 eBook — available in select countries worldwide

Click on the link below.(Copy and paste the link on the browser if it does not take you to the link directly)

https://a.co/d/hisnTaw

It’s a story of **fate, love, dominance, and difficult choices**, written to keep you hooked from start to finish.

If you enjoy well-written fiction, kindly check it out on Amazon.
Those who love supernatural romance — what draws you most to the genre? 👇🏽

Hi Guys ,

Please like my entries in the Etisalat Flash Fiction Prize Award.

First entry on domestic violence and its effect on the victim.

MAIDENS RELEASE

I took a Knife from the dressing table,
Its sharp blade glistened in the morning light,
From my mind a dark twisted tale revealed itself in a fable.
Perched on the Kitchen sink I stared under the kitchen light.
I knew what I was about to do but something held me back.

I snuck a peek at my reflection by the window.
Vain thoughts trickled through my consciousness.
Would I look beautiful in death, would I give them a show?
Would he even care or would he look away at my grossness.
Slowly I pulled up my blouse, sharp bruises a reminder of his blows.
My frame once plump and robust was all but skin and bones.
The consequence of several days without food and water.

Like a prisoner I was trapped behind these walls,
Cut off from the outside world, with wrists bound and without a phone.
My sins were unknown and my punishment meted out like water gushing out from its fall.
The wrong words spoken, mis-interpreted looks given was all it took to force his hand.

Read more and click on the like button in the entry.

https://prize.etisalat.com.ng/flash-fiction/voteall.php?id=1056

Short story on XENOPHOBIA

James ran as he heard the screaming crowd coming for him, right into the dirty bush he ran, previous days he would watch his steps to avoid stepping into human feces today there was no such luxury.
Fear pulsated through his blood stream propelling his legs to move at an alarming speed. The wind whispered as he felt it’s touch, he felt the hot air wafting through his nose. Their chants roared in his ears, their aggressive voices rising in unison , his senses unconsciously calculating their distance they were closing in on him and fast.


Oh such small dreams, to complete a small structure to house his family , to buy his aged grandmother a wheel chair to ease her back pain, to start his own family, or such small dreams , they seemed a life time away as he jumped over a large pile of tree trunks , the one thought in his mind right now was to survive this savages.

They ran, blood flowing through their veins their eyes red with blood lust , their belligerence stimulated by cheap alcohol, ignorance and crack , their prey maneuvered through the bush jumping over broken tree stumps and mounts of dirt, his tenacity angered them, they were close enough now to see the soles of his canvas agilely maintaining the distance between them, the intruder, the job taker, they would catch him, they would tie him, they would beat him with sticks and stones, with their machetes and knives they would carve him and before he took his last breath they would douse him with petrol and burn him, with this ongomazi they would know, the others who came in thousands to steal their jobs, their women, their money, they would know to leave their precious jewels alone.

https://prize.etisalat.com.ng/flash-fiction/voteall.php?id=1057

Thanks a lot guys.

Guys please vote for me by linking my two entries into the Etisalat Flash Fiction Award.

go to the links below and like my entries

Maidens Release

I took a Knife from the dressing table,
Its sharp blade glistened in the morning light,
From my mind a dark twisted tale revealed itself in a fable.
Perched on the Kitchen sink I stared under the kitchen light.
I knew what I was about to do but something held me back.

I snuck a peek at my reflection by the window.
Vain thoughts trickled through my consciousness.
Would I look beautiful in death, would I give them a show?
Would he even care or would he look away at my grossness.
Slowly I pulled up my blouse, sharp bruises a reminder of his blows.
My frame once plump and robust was all but skin and bones.
The consequence of several days without food and water.

Like a prisoner I was trapped behind these walls,
Cut off from the outside world, with wrists bound and without a phone.
My sins were unknown and my punishment meted out like water gushing out from its fall.
The wrong words spoken, mis-interpreted looks given was all it took to force his hand.

To read the complete poem and vote please follow the link below and like the entry.

https://prize.etisalat.com.ng/flash-fiction/voteall.php?id=1056

Xenophobia

James ran as he heard the screaming crowd coming for him, right into the dirty bush he ran, previous days he would watch his steps to avoid stepping into human feces today there was no such luxury.
Fear pulsated through his blood stream propelling his legs to move at an alarming speed. The wind whispered as he felt it’s touch, he felt the hot air wafting through his nose. Their chants roared in his ears, their aggressive voices rising in unison , his senses unconsciously calculating their distance they were closing in on him and fast.


Oh such small dreams, to complete a small structure to house his family , to buy his aged grandmother a wheel chair to ease her back pain, to start his own family, or such small dreams , they seemed a life time away as he jumped over a large pile of tree trunks , the one thought in his mind right now was to survive this savages.

They ran, blood flowing through their veins their eyes red with blood lust , their belligerence stimulated by cheap alcohol, ignorance and crack , their prey maneuvered through the bush jumping over broken tree stumps and mounts of dirt, his tenacity angered them, they were close enough now to see the soles of his canvas agilely maintaining the distance between them, the intruder, the job taker, they would catch him, they would tie him, they would beat him with sticks and stones, with their machetes and knives they would carve him and before he took his last breath they would douse him with petrol and burn him, with this ongomazi they would know, the others who came in thousands to steal their jobs, their women, their money, they would know to leave their precious jewels alone.

Please follow the link below and like the entry

https://prize.etisalat.com.ng/flash-fiction/voteall.php?id=1057

Thanks

STREET DOGS VOLUME 1: (The Rise of Ajasa.) Chapter 2 In search of Daddy dearest.

Donald listened ardently as Ikenna taught him the rules of grammar from his English text book, he was now twelve years old. Gone was the skinny dirty looking boy that played with lizards and frogs by the gutter side, he had filled up a bit thanks to the free meals he got from Ikenna’s mum who owned a beer parlor under the bridge near the shanty he called home.

He spent his days helping out Ikenna’s mum as she prepared for her customers who stopped by in the evening. They would prepare meat pepper soup and mix up delicacies that the customers would take with their beer in the evenings, later in the day Ikenna would bring his school books and they would do his assignments together.
Going to school was out of the question for Donald, his mother did not care for education,


“The devil’s playground” she had called it one day, spitting out the words with venom when he mentioned that he wanted to go to school.
“Everything you want to know about Life, I will teach you jare. Those agents of darkness will poison your mind against me.”
Donald did not bring it up again, he knew the next time he did would get him a serious whooping, his mother was wary about everything formal,

“dem start Church to poison us against our ancestors “ she would say in pidgin,
“hospitals na weapon of death by government to kill us and control southerners” She did not even allow him watch television, even though they could not afford one, “That box na devil phone, it will make us run mad” she would announce, dragging him off screaming and wailing from the market place when she got wind that he perched on the side of the road to watch television from the few stalls that sold them.
So instead he picked up what he knew from Ikenna, he learnt how to read and write, using a candle to go over Ikenna’ s old text books when they closed for the day, and repeating English sentences until he could speak passable English unlike the pidgin English that was common with children in the shanties.

If Sheila had issues with his relationship with Ikenna and his family thankfully she never mentioned it, these days she could barely form comprehensible sentences, she indulged more in taking “Rizzla” a concoction of cocaine and marijuana that left the user disoriented, aggressive and senile.

He could go for days without seeing his mother return home, she had literally washed her hands of taking care of him, he knew that he had to fend for himself like countless kids on the streets just like him but he swore he would do better. He would not end up being an ordinary street urchin “Agbero” he had bigger plans.

He was surprised one day to meet Sheila in high spirits at the shanty when he decided to stop over to change his slippers early in the afternoon, she was hardly ever home these days, she was with a man but this one appeared a little different from her regular customers. His clothes looked more expensive but his face appeared more hardened. He had a deep scar on the side of his face and he was built like one of those bouncers he saw at the doors in the motels around town. As he was trained he bolted out of the room but his mum called him back.

“Donald come here!” he was shocked, she never allowed him come in when she was entertaining me. “come jare where you wan run go?” “come sidon”
Reluctantly he came in, he knew his mother was a prostitute and he hated the men she slept with.he wondered what had changed with this one.

“Okiri na the boy be dis?” Sheila offered by way of introduction smiling from ear to ear.
“wetin be your name!” the man barked, his voice was rougher than his looks, Donald almost jumped with fright.
“Donald sir, my name is Donald”
“Shuo Sheila this one dey speak grammar o” “you send am go school ni?”
“School ke, God forbid, na sharp boy, I no tell you say na sharp boy.”
“erm Donald” “Oya come show your papa that book wey you dey read?”
“Papa ke?” Donald queried, shock written all over his face.
“I don warn you no dey ask me too much question, bring the book come jor”

That was the end of that conversation, Donald did as he was told, bringing a slightly torn English text book that Ikenna gave him, he read out a few paragraphs and spied at his so called Father under his breath.
The man his mother called Okiri remained expressionless, he kept on staring at Donald as if sizing him up for something, when he was done Sheila sent him back out and he sat outside their shanty bewildered.
“so this was his father?” he queried, he had so many questions but he knew Sheila would not entertain his curiosity and from the look of his father he may be worse in temperament than his mother.

Three hours later his so called parents came out of the shanty, Okiri adjusted his buckle making it extremely clear what he had been doing inside with his mother, she on the other hand was the happiest he had ever seen her in years.
“Donald!” the man barked, giving him that scary look,
“make we waka go bus stop”
He obeyed timidly, a thousand questions burning through his mind, his giant of a father seemed to take up all the space as they walked and people crossed the other way when they saw him coming,he exuded a fierceness that even the roughest agbero's in his neighborhood did not possess.

After about five minutes of walking in silence his father finally spoke.
“Sheila for send you go school now, you no book well well ” the comment did not require a response and he didn’t offer any,
“wetin be your age sef?”
“I just turn twelve sir” he responded,
“Twelve eh, you don big o”
“This English wey you dey learn you go learn am well, very soon I go come carry you, your mama no well na only smokes she know”
He nodded.

They got to the bus stop and he saw three huge looking men standing by a Toyota Camry waiting for his father , suddenly he became excited ,his father must be a rich man if he had a car, he had never known anyone that had a car before.
Okiri turned and looked him up and down, for the first time sharing a smile,
“You resemble my papa small this boy, but this your name you go change am. think of name you go answer before I come back.”
" Yes Sir" he responded hapilly,with one quick tap on the shoulder his father was gone.

That was the last thing his father said as he left him standing at the bus stop, suddenly he felt something stir within him, hope that this hard life he had only known would get better, he would find a name and soon.

Thanks @Divepen however i may not post the complete stoyhere unless i get good feedback, i post them on my blog. shout out to Nairaland and their spell check i see you guys tweaked my heading and words a bit, a bit too strong for this site huh? Ok i don't write with filters but i understand your policy.

I will try and post the second part before the week ends at least that i can do.

So i've finally started a new fiction series on my blog.

you should check it out in the near future for the continued part of this series.

www.dakkylove.com


Kindly provide feedback, i appreciate.

Prologue[center][/center]

Ajasa swerved sideways using his left hand to pin the head of the man sitting to his left, with brute force he rammed his head into the car window, gripping the gun the man held with his right hand to avoid him firing, he turned his head as broken glass flew destructively into the vehicle The surprise move took his captors unawares, the car swerved uncontrollably as a shard of glass slashed the back of drivers neck forcing to hit the car brakes.

Smartly angling his body over that of his captor, he forced open the car door and flung himself and the man sideways out of the moving vehicle, a sharp sound was heard as his captors head hit the hard pavement, by his calculation the move had either killed the man on the spot or incapacitated him for the moment, without pausing he ran headlong into the forest as they were three more men armed with guns coming for him, he jumped over scrubs and bushes agilely maneuvering in the dense forest to avoid a direct hit from a gunshot, he could hear the gun shots become fainter as he increased the distance between him and his abductors, he ran faster into the thick forest his mind intent on one thing To survive. He stopped only when he saw mounds on the earth indicating he had now entered a farm Land and calculated that he may now be in another village.


He leaned against a tree as he caught his breath. his plain white T shirt was soaked with sweat and his hands were still shaking from the attack.this was the third attempt on his life this month, he knew these signs he had seen them play out time after time, his time was up, He would have to step down as an executive of the NURTW, he knew he may not survive a fourth attempt on his life.


[center]CHAPTER 1 A MOTHER AND A LovePeddler[/center]

Donald threw stones at the frogs croaking loudly in the gutter in front of him, he ignored the pitiful looks passersby gave him as he sat alone on the sidewalk in his dirty pair of shorts and shirt, he had not had his bath for three days, he was accustomed to the smell of his own stench but the dirt was beginning to stick to his face and cause him to scratch repeatedly every ten minutes. He could hear his mother’s voice in the background, he was only Five years old but he knew she was fighting in the streets again.

“Ashawo kobo kobo, witch leave my husband alone, I reject you in Jesus name” a woman screamed in the ensuing commotion as the crowd held his mother back from doing more damage to the woman’s clothes.
Without turning his neck at the direction of the commotion he knew his mother had probably torn part of the woman’s attire to shreds, he had overheard Ade’s mum say to one of their neighbors one day that to survive around here you must learn the rules of Sheila, the first rule was that never attack Sheila because she could fight like a man, the second rule was never advise Sheila because she would fight you like a man, the third rule should have been never allow your man within five yards of Sheila because her one weakness was men.

He may be young but he knew there was something fundamentally wrong with his mother Sheila, She dragged him from door post to door post, from under one bridge to another, she did not care that he was left out in the cold at odd hours of the night whilst she “discussed” with uncle.
Every day they were different uncles and some days they were even more than three uncle’s to “discuss” with, but he was always happy after those discussions because he knew he would finally be able to eat something for the day. It may be 2.00 a.m or 7.00 a.m but after her nightly discussions she would carry him happily on her arms as they went to look for something to eat, it may be fried yam or yam and beans or his personal favorite rice with suya but there could always find something to eat in the slums of Lagos Island.

Days like this were his worst, when his mother fought on the street they were no discussions, she would rant and curse and attempt to fight everybody for hours until when she finally exhausts her energy she would crawl into one of the empty stalls and sleep off, days like this his mother did not remember she had a son, her temper was so hot and volatile that any attempt to go near her when she was in a fighting mood would get him a serious beating.

So Donald played with the frogs, he threw stones and copied their stances as they tried to run away from him, he had learnt early on life to always try and make himself happy, maybe tonight he would find left over food from the dust bin of the beer parlor near their make shift tent under the Bridge, for now he would not think of his empty stomach or think of the rashes on his skin growing worse by the day because of dirt , for now he would play with the frogs whilst Sheila fought yet another woman on the streets . This was the only coping mechanism he knew.

Passersby who recognized him looked at him with pity, “poor boy” some mumbled, “Father unknown, Mother a dirty LovePeddler all he had in this world were the frogs and lizards to play with in the gutter, maybe someday he would find some respite but for now this was his own slice of heaven, mimicking frogs in the gutter and chasing down lizards on the roads.”

So i ended the Tale which is in VIII parts on my blog on monday, i decided to post the end here. you can follow the tale from I-VIII on www.dakkylove.com

read and share comments pls.

[center]The Descendant's Tale VIII
[/center]


©



His doorbell woke him up, he had fallen asleep holding a bible in his hands, waiting for Odibo to call he had lost consciousness, he looked at the time it was 1.00 a.m . the bell chimed again

“who is that?” he asked
“its me odibo” he was relieved, he flung the door open
“guy I have been waiting for you” but the man standing in front of him was not his best friend anymore, he saw a crazy looking man with red eyes and torn clothes at his door step before he could ask odibo if he was ok he found himself being punched in the face.
“you bastard..you dirty sneaking bastard.” Nnamdi fell flat on his arm chair
“Odibo what?..” but he was not allowed to finish as Odibo hit him with another one straight in the ribs, doubling up in pain he staggered to the side missing another punch.
“you raped her didn’t you?? You just couldn’t control yourself.”
“raped who Lolita ?, I swear I didn’t touch her”
Odibo picked up the glass table and swung at him missing by inches, it was clear this was a re enactment of their ancestors fight many years ago and his best friend had come to kill him.

Mary filled with worry for her brother told everything to her parish priest,
”I am just scared he will do something hurtful to himself” she cried out, Rev Gabriel had been aware of the family troubles of Mary for a long time, she had always confided in him and even though her brother had not taken his advise and come to church for prayers he still felt there was something else he could do,
“you know what go and call me father Anthony lets go and pay a visit to your brother.”


That was six hours ago, Mary could not believe how many times their car had spoilt on the road to Nnamdi’s house, it was if something didn’t want them to get there on time. When the car refused to start for the fifth time Mary suggested they spend the night in a hotel since they had endured a lot of stress to get to Nnamdi's house, but father Gabriel insisted..
” No we must go, I have a bad feeling about this, we need to reach Nnamdi before it is too late.”
Hours later as they entered her brother’s compound she was surprised by what she saw, someone seemed to be throwing a street party at the end of the road so the whole street was blocked, the noise from the party was deafening but her brothers flat door was wide open, panicking they rushed upstairs to Nnamdi’s flat, bursting in they were surprised by what they saw, everywhere was scattered, broken glasses and bits of furniture lay everywhere,

“Nnamdi!!” Mary screamed in fear and that was when they saw Odibo rushing at them with a broken bottle, Mary screamed and ran out from fear, Father Anthony was not so lucky , Odibo stabbed him right on the arm screaming
“ you will all die , you will die.” That was when they saw that Nnamdi he had locked himself in the room, he suddenly ran out and broke a wooden chair on Odibo’s back, odibo went out flat.

Nnamdi sat down exhausted, he was bleeding from head to toe, Odibo had stabbed him with glass, hit him with table ornaments, it was crazy he thought he was going to die. his friend had been acting like a deranged animal, his sides were hurting everywhere he was just glad to be alive, they had tied Odibo to a chair with a rope so that he would not attack them when he regained consciousness, he remembered the old man’s words

“would your best friend forgive you anything?”
If not for his sister and the Reverend fathers he had no doubt Odibo would have killed him,
“your friend is possessed “ Father Gabriel announced after they had called the ambulance, Nnamdi nodded
“ I know he is and I know exactly the demon that has possessed him.”

Two weeks after the incident Nnamdi sat down in the church beside his best friend, they had performed a series of deliverance services on him and finally Odibo was getting better,
“ND I am really sorry I cant believe I gave you that ugly wound” Nnamdi stared down at his arm covered with bandages and shrugged
“it wasn’t you , I know you didn’t know what you were doing”
“I cannot believe me Odibo got engaged to some girl I met on the street..never” Thankfully Odibo could not remember anything else after picking up Lolita from the streets, they were not surprised when Lolita was nowhere to be found when they got back to Odibo's flat, all her clothes, perfumes everything was gone. It was as if she never existed. Nnamdi said his farewell to his friend and headed to his village.

Just like the last time he was there the driver carrying him almost hit the old man on the road, Agwu came out from nowhere with his stick on one side and the dwarf on the other..

”Ahh you made it back??’ Nnamdi got down from the car and knelt down in front of the old man crying
“its ok my son, you have the egg?” Nnamdi nodded,
“Take it back to the river side, my guide will show you the way.”

Abandoning his luggage and the driver Nnamdi followed the dwarf deep into the forest till they got to a thatched hut, The Dwarf pointed but Nnamdi knew exactly where to drop the egg, he had been to this place so many times in his dreams. There was an empty basket in the middle of the compound and Nnamdi dropped it there, just then it started raining and for the first time he saw the dwarf smile, turning around and running, he ran all the way back losing track of the dwarf along the way, as he ran across the bushes in the pouring rain Nnamdi had never felt so alive, he thought he heard someone singing deep in the forest but it was dark and he was in a strange place so he didn’t look back, if he did he would have seen a sad woman singing by the river side, her long black hair glistening wet in the rain and her sad eyes following his move, if he looked back he would have seen the old man staring her down and saying

“the feud has ended, everything is back where it should be now you have to let his blood go”
If he had looked back he would have seen the dwarf smiling in the rain and tying a rope round the woman’s neck. But Nnamdi did not look back, the future awaited for him, the living called his name he wanted to make it back in time to see his mother for they had received the good news..his mother was alive and well.


Moses was clear in his instructions to the boys,
“I know this gold exists because I have seen firsthand what it looks like, go deep in the forest and look for a boy/man, do not be afraid, bring that egg to me , we shall never know poverty again.”
Excited three young men went deep into the forest a huge fortune was waiting for them, they were going to be rich… in his cave Agwu shook his head with pity, as long as men remained greedy this fable would never end, the egg glistened in the hut waiting..waiting for the next man to make its prey.

The end.

@OP nice story, i think you are on to something here ...

the story line is very strong, a deaf and dumb girl raped with a crippled mother but the only issue i have is that the first two parts of the story could have painted a better picture, i was a bit confused .

I would have liked to feel more for the victim as she walked home, felt her vulnerability when that man guessed what had happened to her, sensed his empathy for the girl, visualized her mothers helplessness when she heard what happened to her daughter, listened to her final thoughts as she grew weak in despair and finally died ....This would have prepared me for the next phase of the character , you can take the direction of this story now to a lot of places, you can either continue to build the story of tragedy that follows this young girl until she catches a break, or you can transform the story to how this situation strengthened her resolve and built this young victim into a fearless heroine or you can build this first parts to a background to the story of the child who eventually becomes someone powerful and traces his/her father.

Any which way it's a good story line as i said. Kudos to you.

I especially like the part of the young girl feeling special because of her disability, that's a nice one.

I've uploaded Part VI on www.dakkylove.com Please read , share and comment.

I've uploaded Part V on www.dakkylove.com Please read , share and comment.