To celebrate the release of Kola, I'm going to serialise the prologue on my blog over the next 7 days.
Many of you may not know this but Kola's story is very close to my heart. Of all the Essien brothers, he gave me the most sleepless nights. LOL.
I started writing his story back in 2011 after I finished the first draft of Felix's story which you now know as Keeping Secrets. Even before I knew Mark or Tony very well, Kola came to me a very vivid and yet enigmatic character.
I wrote his story to the half-way point and got to a road block. I couldn't go forward. It was like he was saying to me, "you can't write an ending for my story until you've written my beginning."
Forward to 2015, after I'd written Mark and Tony's story, Kola's background became clearer to me. This is how the prologue was born and I had to write it into the story.
This is Kola's beginning. Enjoy it.
Kola
The Essiens, Book 4
By
Kiru Taye
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.
Kola
ISBN: 9781311822376
Copyright© 2015 Kiru Taye
Editor: Zee Monodee
Cover Artist: Love Bites and Silk
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used
or reproduced electronically or in print
without written
permission, except in the case of brief
quotations
embodied in reviews.
KT Press
Blurb
When
sassy heiress Tari Essien needs a place to escape the pressures of the hounding
press, she turns to Kola Banks, a deeply scarred ex-soldier who's also the
Essien chief of security. Kola can't offer Tari anything more than his
protection. She's family, for goodness sake, even if they share no blood ties.
It’s
a weekend of lessons for both of them. Together, they can't avoid the explosive
heat that sizzles between them, nor help pushing each others' boundaries
physically as well as emotionally.
But
when the weekend ends and Tari's life is in danger, will Kola put his body as
well as his heart in the line of fire to keep her safe?
Prologue
Twenty-two years ago.
"Olori, here he is."
The boy standing behind Kola shoved him and he stumbled
forward on the uneven floor. His thin body trembled as it normally did on a
cold morning when he had nothing to shield himself from the harsh Harmattan
winds blowing from the Sahara Desert into Nigeria. Except now, the sun blazed
in a clear blue sky, stifling him in afternoon heat.
Sweat made his palms clammy. He pressed his arms to his
sides and blinked at a rapid rate as he stared at the group of five boys
surrounding him. They were a raggedy bunch in tired torn shirts, some in
trousers and others in shorts. Most of them appeared around his age of eight,
not much taller or bigger than him.
One stood apart. A tall, older teenage boy with dark-skin
that reminded him of burnt rubber tyres wore a plain grey t-shirt stretching
across muscular chest and arms, blue jeans, and a pair of dust-smudged red
sneakers. He lounged against the exposed grey brick wall of the uncompleted
building. Kola's gaze riveted to the boy he assumed to be the leader of this
gang and the pen knife he used to pick his nails.
"Tunji, who is this?" the burnt rubber-skinned boy
asked, waving his pen knife in Kola's direction.
"I found him scavenging without your permission, Olori,"
the boy who'd pushed Kola replied.
"Is that so?" Olori straightened. His flat, wide
nose flared, reminding Kola of an angry bull as he swaggered over, his pen
knife now in his fist.
Breath bursting out of his open mouth, Kola couldn’t seem to
control his shaking body. Like a cornered, wounded animal, his gaze didn't slip
from the boy who looked at him as if he was prey and open for the kill.
Blinking several times, he gulped, determined not to cry. Surely
the boys wouldn’t hurt him because he'd been at the rubbish dump, scavenging
for anything he could resell so he could make some money to buy food.
He sucked in a deep breath and the smell of stale food and
burnt rubber clogged his nostril. Swallowing the bile in his throat, he tried
to quell his trembling body. There wasn't anything in his stomach so even if he
heaved, nothing would come out of his dry mouth. Hunger pangs cramped his tummy.
He needed food. The last time he'd eaten anything had been the day before yesterday
when he'd scavenged partially rotted plantains off the rubbish heap where he
now lived. At least when his mother had been alive, he'd eaten at least one
good meal a day. Now, he was lucky if he ate anything all week.
"I—I was just trying to find something to sell so I can
buy some food," he said when he finally worked saliva into his mouth and
could speak.
"Do you not know that you need permission to touch the patch
of garbage?" Olori said, now in front and staring down with hard, dark
eyes. "It belongs to me."
Kola's mouth dropped open. How could a boy this young own
the dump?
"I didn't know," he squeaked in reply.
The other boy flicked his knife shut and crossed his arms. "How
long have you been working here?"
Kola scratched the flaky skin on his elbow and darted his
gaze from Olori to the other boys as they looked at him with a mix of curiosity
and menace. After his mother's death, his neighbours had let him stay for a few
days. Until one of them had tried touching his body the way he'd seen other men
touch his mother. He'd bitten the man hard and ran as far away as he could, ending
up at the rubbish dump. The people over here didn't care about him or his
plight. They lived in a worse state than the slum he'd run from. He had to fend
for himself, which was how he'd ended up scavenging in the first place.
"Just this week. I only started this week." He
rushed his words, hoping the boy believed him.
The gang leader eyed him from head to toes, making him
cringe. "This means you owe me a week's worth of taxes for the work you've
done so far."
Taxes? Kola
swallowed and clutched his hands tight. He'd barely earned enough to feed on
from the items he'd sold. How could he afford to give money to someone who
wasn't going to give him food? "But I don't have any money."
To be continued.
Come back tomorrow for more.
Can't wait? Click here to download a copy of Kola.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to read your comments. Please share your thoughts.
If you're having problems using blogger to comment, please use the Facebook comment box at the bottom. Thank you.