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    Violet's Velvet Adventures: A Novella (The Aso-Ebi Chronicles, Book 4)
    Violet's Velvet Adventures: A Novella (The Aso-Ebi Chronicles, Book 4)
    Violet's Velvet Adventures: A Novella (The Aso-Ebi Chronicles, Book 4)
    Ebook85 pages1 hour

    Violet's Velvet Adventures: A Novella (The Aso-Ebi Chronicles, Book 4)

    By Sharon Abimbola Salu

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    About this ebook

    Violet Edem leads a relatively boring life as a Finance teacher at a community college in Houston, Texas. Her love life is just as boring as her job, until the unexpected happens. Two men waltz into her life and Violet must decide which one of them has a future with her.

    Then as she prepares for a wedding, something terrible happens to the groom. Violet is unwittingly swept up in solving a mystery where she discovers that the past may very well hold the key to the future.

    Set in Houston, Texas and Lagos, Nigeria, Violet’s Velvet Adventures is the 4th Novella in the Aso-Ebi Chronicles, a series of novellas featuring amateur female sleuths solving mysteries and finding love in the ever-busy Lagos metropolis.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSharon Abimbola Salu
    Release dateNov 17, 2016
    ISBN9781370846252
    Violet's Velvet Adventures: A Novella (The Aso-Ebi Chronicles, Book 4)
    Author

    Sharon Abimbola Salu

    Sharon Abimbola Salu grew up in Lagos, Nigeria where she lived until she relocated to the United States of America where she currently resides. Her stories are mostly set in Nigeria, and she writes stories she would like to read. A professed lover of spicy foods, she loves experimenting with new recipes, to the dismay of non-spicy food lovers. Apart from writing, photography is her other hobby. Visit her blog at http://www.sharonsalu.com

    Read more from Sharon Abimbola Salu

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      Book preview

      Violet's Velvet Adventures - Sharon Abimbola Salu

      Violet's Velvet Adventures: A Novella

      (The Aso-Ebi Chronicles, Book 4)

      By

      Sharon Abimbola Salu

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      Cover Illustration by Qaaim Goodwin

      Connect with Sharon

      E-mail: sharonwritesfiction@gmail.com

      Website: www.sharonsalu.com

      Facebook: http://facebook.com/SharonAbimbolaSalu

      Twitter: http://twitter.com/sharon_salu

      Google +: gplusid.com/sharonsalu

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at the address below.

      sharonwritesfiction@gmail.com

      Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

      This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

      Discover other titles by Sharon Abimbola Salu:

      The Day I Will Never Forget

      On the Road to Makurdi

      Toasting Her

      Shine Your Eye

      With Love from Asaba

      The Life and Times of Two Flared Nostrils

      1, 2, 3 Disappear

      Stay in Berlin

      The Aso-Ebi Chronicles

      Bewaji's Ankara Adventures

      Wura's Woodin Adventures

      Lara's Lace Adventures

      August Fiction Series

      Unfriending Mama

      Hotel Surprise

      An Understanding Woman

      At the End of a Long, Loose Braid

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      About the Author

      One

      In more ways than one, Goriola Adams blew my mind. Gori was the most popular boy in my class at St. Joseph's Academy. That was back in 1998. Tall, with dimples in his cheeks and indisputably handsome, Gori was my first official crush. Although he was adept at forming social connections, his academic performance left much to be desired. To put it in plain English, Gori failed most of his exams in flying colors, dignity intact. That blew my mind. How could someone who excelled in one area, fail so woefully in another area? I did not understand it. But that was not all. I could not understand how a person as level-headed as I was could fall for this incredibly selfish, self-absorbed boy. But can you blame me? I was only 15 after all, and I was the new girl in class.

      Before St. Joseph's, I attended Federal Government Girls' College Bauchi for three years. But after writing my JSCE exams, my life changed significantly. I had looked forward to donning my senior girl uniform, a sign that I had made the transition from junior girl to senior girl. I had even spent a significant amount of time practicing the tone of voice I would use to authoritatively command junior girls to do my bidding; at least girls in JSS1 and JSS2. The JSS3 girls would give me trouble, being that I was just one class above them. The others would be easier to manipulate. I had it all figured out.

      But in an ironic twist of fate, while I was still waiting for my JSCE exam results, my father resigned from his eight-year position as a lecturer at the Department of Mechanical and Productions Engineering, Abubakar Tafawa Balewa University (ATBU) in Bauchi to take up a highly coveted and more lucrative position as a lecturer at the University of Lagos. That automatically meant that I and my entire family had to relocate with him. And so it was, that I never got to Lord it over the junior girls in Bauchi. Instead, I became the transplant student at a private secondary school in Ikeja, the capital of Lagos State. It was called St. Joseph's Academy.

      Being an only child, I did not have any siblings to bounce ideas off of, to assess how the move had affected them as well as me. So I kept everything to myself.

      I had visited Lagos several times before '98, but they were all short visits to family friends and relatives. I had never actually lived in Lagos. But within two weeks of relocating to Eko, as Lagos was fondly called, I started classes at St. Joseph's.

      Goriola Adams was one of the first people I saw on my first day, and he was perfect. You have to understand that I was coming from an all-girls secondary school, and our contact with the opposite sex was limited to friendly sports games, the occasional debates, and similar harmless activities. We were hardly left unsupervised.

      Boys are bad! we were told. Boys will make you pregnant!

      These warnings were issued with such severity and aggression that we came to believe that merely inhaling oxygen in the same room with a boy would make a girl pregnant. In fact, I was surprised that boys were not blamed for more serious problems like Nigeria's military rule. I half-expected one teacher to say, Boys robbed Mr. Bello's house yesterday, or Boys have taken over the planet. Since they were blamed for every evil thing under the sun, particularly if it had anything to do with the so-called weaker sex, the ridiculous extent to which anyone could take these arguments was only limited by that person's imagination.

      But, it backfired. All the talk about boys, instead of deterring me, had actually aroused my curiosity. They were mysterious creatures, who sounded, looked and smelt different from us girls.

      I saw things differently.

      As far as I was concerned, girls were the evil that needed to be shunned. I spent all my time at a girls' school, with limited male contact, and I was not spared. Girls with their sneaky, catty, vindictive ways had picked on me, made fun of me and bullied me.

      See your arms like a boy's own, they would tease, when I went for PE, wearing that light cotton shirt and shorts. If it wasn’t my arms they were picking on, it was my legs.

      Yam-orous!

      I heard that word so often, I began to believe it. That I had yams for legs. That my well-toned, muscular arms and legs were not feminine. That I lacked the delicacy of a woman. That physically, especially since I was still flat-chested at 15, I had more in common with a boy than a girl.

      So, when I arrived at St. Joseph's in September for the first term of SS1, I had had enough of girls, and was ready for boys.

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