First chapter
Okonkwo was well known throughout the nine villages and even
beyond. His fame rested on solid personal achievements. As a
young man of eighteen he had brought honor to his village by
throwing Amalinze the Cat. Amalinze was the great wrestler who
for seven years was unbeaten, from Umuofia to Mbaino. He was
called the Cat because his back would never touch the earth. It was
this man that Okonkwo threw in a fight which the old men agreed
was one of the fiercest since the founder of their town engaged a
spirit of the wild for seven days and seven nights.
The drums beat and the flutes sang and the spectators held their
breath. Amalinze was a wily craftsman, but Okonkwo was as
slippery as a fish in water. Every nerve and every muscle stood out
on their arms, on their backs and their thighs, and one almost heard
them stretching to breaking point. In the end Okonkwo threw the cat.
That was many years ago, twenty years or more, and during this
time Okonkwo's fame had grown like a bush-fire in the harmattan.
He was tall and huge, and his bushy eyebrows and wide nose gave
him a very severe look. He breathed heavily, and it was said that,
when he slept, his wives and children in their houses could hear
him breathe. When he walked, his heels hardly touched the ground
and he seemed to walk on springs, as if he was going to pounce on
somebody. And he did pounce on people quite often. He had a
slight stammer and whenever he was angry and could not get his
words out quickly enough, he would use his fists. He had no
patience with unsuccessful men. He had had no patience with his
father.
Unoka, for that was his father's name, had died ten years ago. In
his day he was lazy and improvident and was quite incapable of
thinking about tomorrow. If any money came his way, and it
seldom did, he immediately bought gourds of palm-wine, called
round his neighbors and made merry. He always said that
whenever he saw a dead man's mouth he saw the folly of not eating
what one had in one's lifetime. Unoka was, of course, a debtor, and
he owed every neighbor some money, from a few cowries to quite
substantial amounts.
He was tall but very thin and had a slight stoop. He wore a haggard
and mournful look except when he was drinking or playing on his
flute. He was very good on his flute, and his happiest moments
were the two or three moons after the harvest when the village
musicians brought down their instruments, hung above the
fireplace. Unoka would play with them, his face beaming with
blessedness and peace. Sometimes another village would ask
Unoka's band and their dancing egwugwu to come and stay with
them and teach them their tunes. They would go to such hosts for
as long as three or four markets, making music and feasting.
Unoka loved the good hire and the good fellowship, and he loved
this season of the year, when the rains had stopped and the sun roseevery morning with dazzling beauty. And it was not too hot either,
because the cold and dry harmattan wind was blowing down Irom
the north. Some years the harmattan was very severe and a dense
haze hung on the atmosphere. Old men and children would then sit
round log fires, warming their bodies. Unoka loved it all, and he
loved the first kites that returned with the dry season, and the
children who sang songs of welcome to them. He would remember
his own childhood, how he had often wandered around looking for
a kite sailing leisurely against the blue sky. As soon as he found
one he would sing with his whole being, welcoming it back from
its long, long journey, and asking it if it had brought home any
lengths of cloth.
That was years ago, when he was young. Unoka, the grown-up,
was a failure. He was poor and his wife and children had barely
enough to eat. People laughed at him because he was a loafer, and
they swore never to lend him any more money because he never
paid back. But Unoka was such a man that he always succeeded in
borrowing more, and piling up his debts.
One day a neighbor called Okoye came in to see him. He was
reclining on a mud bed in his hut playing on the flute. He
immediately rose and shook hands with Okoye, who then unrolled
the goatskin which he carried under his arm, and sat down. Unoka
went into an inner room and soon returned with a small wooden
disc containing a kola nut, some alligator pepper and a lump of
white chalk.
"I have kola," he announced when he sat down, and passed the disc
over to his guest.
"Thank you. He who brings kola brings life. But I think you ought
to break it," replied Okoye, passing back the disc.
"No, it is for you, I think," and they argued like this for a few
moments before Unoka accepted the honor of breaking the kola.Okoye, meanwhile, took the lump of chalk, drew some lines on the
floor, and then painted his big toe.
As he broke the kola, Unoka prayed to their ancestors for life and
health, and for protection against their enemies. When they had
eaten they talked about many things: about the heavy rains which
were drowning the yams, about the next ancestral feast and about
the impending war with the village of Mbaino. Unoka was never
happy when it came to wars. He was in fact a coward and could
not bear the sight of blood. And so he changed the subject and
talked about music, and his face beamed. He could hear in his
mind's ear the blood-stirring and intricate rhythms of the ekwe and
the udu and the ogene, and he could hear his own flute weaving in
and out of them, decorating them with a colorful and plaintive tune.
The total effect was gay and brisk, but if one picked out the flute as
it went up and down and then broke up into short snatches, one
saw that there was sorrow and grief there.
Okoye was also a musician. He played on the ogene. But he was
not a failure like Unoka. He had a large barn full of yams and he
had three wives. And now he was going to take the Idemili title,
the third highest in the land. It was a very expensive ceremony and
he was gathering all his resources together. That was in fact the
reason why he had come to see Unoka. He cleared his throat and
began:
"Thank you for the kola. You may have heard of the title I intend
to take shortly."
Having spoken plainly so far, Okoye said the next half a dozen
sentences in proverbs. Among the Ibo the art of conversation is
regarded very highly, and proverbs are the palm-oil with which
words are eaten. Okoye was a great talker and he spoke for a long
time, skirting round the subject and then hitting it finally. In short,
he was asking Unoka to return the two hundred cowries he hadborrowed from him more than two years before. As soon as Unoka
understood what his friend was driving at, he burst out laughing.
He laughed loud and long and his voice rang out clear as the ogene,
and tears stood in his eyes. His visitor was amazed, and sat
speechless. At the end, Unoka was able to give an answer between
fresh outbursts of mirth.
"Look at that wall," he said, pointing at the far wall of his hut,
which was rubbed with red earth so that it shone. "Look at those
lines of chalk," and Okoye saw groups of short perpendicular lines
drawn in chalk. There were five groups, and the smallest group had
ten lines. Unoka had a sense of the dramatic and so he allowed a
pause, in which he took a pinch of snuff and sneezed noisily, and
then he continued: "Each group there represents a debt to someone,
and each stroke is one hundred cowries. You see, I owe that man a
thousand cowries. But he has not come to wake me up in the
morning for it. I shall pay you, but not today. Our elders say that
the sun will shine on those who stand before it shines on those who
kneel under them. I shall pay my big debts first." And he took
another pinch of snuff, as if that was paying the big debts first.
Okoye rolled his goatskin and departed.
When Unoka died he had taken no title at all and he was heavily
in debt. Any wonder then that his son Okonkwo was ashamed of
him? Fortunately, among these people a man was judged according
to his worth and not according to the worth of his father. Okonkwo
was clearly cut out for great things. He was still young but he had
won fame as the greatest wrestler in the nine villages. He was a
wealthy farmer and had two barns full of yams, and had just
married his third wife. To crown it all he had taken two titles and
had shown incredible prowess in two inter-tribal wars. And so
although Okonkwo was still young, he was already one of the
greatest men of his time. Age was respected among his people, but
achievement was revered. As the elders said, if a child washed his
hands he could eat with kings. Okonkwo had clearly washed hishands and so he ate with kings and elders. And that was how he
came to look after the doomed lad who was sacrificed to the
village of Umuofia by their neighbors to avoid war and bloodshed.
The ill-fated lad was called Ikemefuna.
COALESCENCE OF THE FIVE SERIES BOOK ONE: THE 5-TIME REJECTED GAMMA & THE LYCAN KING BOOK TWO: THE ROGUES WHO WENT ROGUE BOOK THREE: THE INDOMITABLE HUNTRESS & THE HARDENED DUKE *** BOOK ONE: After being rejected by 5 mates, Gamma Lucianne pleaded with the Moon Goddess to spare her from any further mate-bonds. To her dismay, she is being bonded for the sixth time. What’s worse is that her sixth-chance mate is the most powerful creature ruling over all werewolves and Lycans - the Lycan King himself. She is certain, dead certain, that a rejection would come sooner or later, though she hopes for it to be sooner. King Alexandar was ecstatic to meet his bonded mate, and couldn’t thank their Goddess enough for gifting him someone so perfect. However, he soon realizes that this gift is reluctant to accept him, and more than willing to sever their bond. He tries to connect with her but she seems so far away. He is desperate to get intimate with her but she seems reluctant to open up to him. He tries to tell her that he is willing to commit to her for the rest of his life but she doesn’t seem to believe him. He is pleading for a chance: a chance to get to know her; a chance to show her that he’s different; and a chance to love her. But when not-so-subtle crushes, jealous suitors, self-entitled Queen-wannabes, an old flame, a silent protector and a past wedding engagement threaten to jeopardize their relationship, will Lucianne and Xandar still choose to be together? Is their love strong enough to overcome everything and everyone? Or will Lucianne resort to enduring a sixth rejection from the one person she thought she could entrust her heart with?
She thought she was the love of his life, and he became the love of her life that fateful day she had seen him at the pack's party. Selene Grace was only a replica of Alpha Leo's real mate, and when he spotted her, Leo immediately claimed her as his Luna in order to suppress the rumors of him being mateless. Being unable to conceive turns Selene's marriage into a nightmare, and as if that wasn't enough, Alpha Leo finally reunites with his long time lover and mate, rejecting a pregnant Selene as a result. 5 years later, Selene, a now successful doctor, receives an invitation to the moon shadow pack in order to rid the pack of a deadly disease which has struck it. Will Selene return back to the pack which had caused her so much pain, and what would she do when she realizes that she is mated to the Alpha who had betrayed her in the past?
For three years, Shane and Yvonne were wed, sharing heated nights, while his devotion clung to his ex. Yvonne strove to be a dutiful wife, yet their marriage felt hollow, built on desire rather than real warmth. All changed when she became pregnant, only for Shane to thrust her onto the operating table, warning, “Either you or the baby survives!” Broken by his cruelty, she vanished in grief and later returned, radiantly accomplished, leaving everyone awestruck. Haunted by remorse, Shane begged for another chance, but Yvonne only smiled and replied, “I’m sorry, men no longer interest me.”
On her wedding day, Khloe’s sister connived with her groom, framing her for a crime she didn’t commit. She was sentenced to three years in prison, where she endured much suffering. When Khloe was finally released, her evil sister used their mother to coerce Khloe into an indecent liaison with an elderly man. As fate would have it, Khloe crossed paths with Henrik, the dashing yet ruthless mobster who sought to alter the course of her life. Despite Henrik’s cold exterior, he cherished Khloe like no other. He helped her take retribution from her tormentors and kept her from being bullied again.
Allison fell in love with Ethan Iversen, the soon-to-be Alpha of the Moonlight Crown pack. She always wanted him to notice her. Meanwhile, Ethan was an arrogant Alpha who thought a weak Omega could not be his companion. Ethan's cousin, Ryan Iversen, who came back from abroad and was the actual heir of the pack, never tried to get the position nor did he show any interest in it. He was a popular playboy Alpha but when he came back to the pack, one thing captured his eyes and that was Allison.
"You're mine, little puppy," Kylan growled against my neck. A soft gasp escaped my lips as his lips brushed my skin. My mind screamed at me to push him away-the Lycan Prince who had humiliated me again and again, but my body betrayed me, leaning into him before I could stop myself. He pressed his lips against mine, and his kiss grew more aggressive, more possessive as I felt my legs weaken. What was I doing? In a split-second, I pulled away and slapped him hard across the face. Kylan's eyes darkened, but the smirk on his lips exposed his amusement. "You and I both know we can't fight this, Violet," he said, gripping my wrist. "You're my mate." "And yet you don't want me," I replied. "You told me you were ashamed of me, that l'd never be your queen, that you'd never love me. So please, accept my rejection and let me go." "Never," he whispered, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. "Soon enough, you'll be begging for me. and when you do-I'll use you as I see fit and then I'll reject you."