tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67655966068135705022024-03-13T15:37:23.848+00:00BImbYLaDs BLOG ©a different mind~~God's brilliant creation.
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*Sharing God's love through writing*BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-3946614687959090092015-03-20T13:26:00.001+00:002015-03-20T13:26:58.608+00:00WHEN BROKEN CHORDS SING BY ABIMBOLA DARE<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Also available on amazon.co.uk as an ebook. Contact abimboladare1@gmail.com for more details.BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-23038444673085486512012-12-04T19:35:00.001+00:002012-12-04T19:41:32.575+00:00The no-nonsense wifeHi friends,<br />
<br />
I wrote this story for Bellanaija.com (BN Prose Series). Its gone viral and I thought I might as well paste it on my blog for you all to enjoy.<br />
Remain blessed<br />
Abimbola Dare.<br />
<br />
<br />
“Biyi hasn’t worked for that long?” Dayo’s voice drips with resentment. “For real?”<br />
“He’s been trying,” I say in feeble attempt to defend my husband. “You know how the economy is.”
My husband and I had vowed never to bring in a third party into our relationship but with a bank account screaming for revival, I need to share my burden with someone else. I grip the phone. Dayo is unusually quiet. “You still there?” I ask. “Hello?”<br />
“I am here,” she says. “I just didn’t know things were this bad. And all this while, I thought Biyi was providing for the home.”<br />
But he is, I argue silently. Well, maybe not financially for now, but in every way else, Biyi is a rock. “It’s not that bad.” My words sound frail.<br />
Dayo clucks her tongue. “You might as well be a widow.”<br />
The words hit me like a fist.
“Na you I blame,” she continues, oblivious to the damage her words have caused.<br />
“Me? Why?” She is blaming me for this? Seriously?<br />
“Why do you keep paying the bills?”<br />
“Because there is no one else to do it,” I protest, upset.<br />
“For real? He drives your car too?”<br />
“He needs it,” I mutter. “To attend job interviews and stuff. He gets back late sometimes.”<br />
“How late are you talking?
“Nine, ten…ish.”
Dayo pauses for a second. “I hate to say this gurl, but your husband spending your money on another woman.”<br />
Whoa! Hang on. Where did that come from? “Haba, Dayo. Biyi would never—”<br />
“Look, I know men,” she slices in. “You are his moneybag and he will take you for a ride as long as it takes. Where is your dignity, gurl?”<br />
Ride. Dignity. Moneybag. Ouch. “But he’s a good guy,” I manage. Can my husband be using me? It had never crossed my mind in the past, but I now wonder if Biyi is actually having an affair.
“I trust my wonderful Dennis…,” Dayo is saying. I barely listen. My eyes are on the clock. It’s almost midnight and Biyi isn’t home. I force myself to hear what Dayo is saying about Dennis Ono, her multimillionaire-oil- company-golden-husband. Gosh I envy her life, her perfect marriage.<br />
“My marriage is wonderful,” Dayo says, as if in affirmation to my undeclared words. “But only because I show Dennis who the boss is. He cannot try nonsense with me. Abi, you think it’s easy to get ten thousand pounds a month as pocket money?”<br />
She really gets ten grand a month? That’s like, my entire annual salary in my crappy job plus bonuses. Life is unfair. Honestly. “I am Biyi’s wife,” I say. “I cannot just desert him.” Or can I? At this rate…<br />
“In that case,” there is an edge to her voice now, “give him an ultimatum. He gets a job in two weeks or you are out of that marriage.”<br />
“I—”<br />
“Look, I know his type,” she says with conviction. “He conveniently won’t get a job as long as you keep dishing out your money.”<br />
“But—”
“Starve him,” she adds. “No sex. Make life hell. You are not an ATM machine.”<br />
Keys jangle in the hallway. Biyi is home. “Talk later,” I say to Dayo. “He’s back.”<br />
“Stand your ground,” Dayo whispers menacingly. “Ultimatum. Two weeks.”<br />
I hang up with a sigh. My husband is leaning against the door frame. For a second my heart falters. He looks tired, drawn. But Dayo’s words punctuate my compassion. “Where have you been?”<br />
Biyi gives me a side smile. “No hug?”
I jerk my head at the wall clock.” Its midnight.”
“I had a job interview in Birmingham,” he says. “I called you tell you I was stuck in traffic but I kept getting your voicemail. What’s wrong?”
I cock my head. Is that a whiff of female perfume? It is. Dayo is right. He has been with another woman. With my car. Spending my money. My head spins. “Biyi,” I glare at him, “Where are you coming from?”<br />
He steps back, surprised. “I went to Birmingham—”<br />
“Did you get it?” I screech. “The job?”<br />
Biyi shakes his head. “I didn’t—”<br />
This is the last straw. I wrench my hand out. “My car keys.”<br />
He gives me a hard level stare. “What is wrong with you, Toni? Did I offend you?”<br />
“Pass my keys!”
He thrusts the car keys to into my palm. I push past him, grab my duffel bag and stuff my overnight things into it. I know I am acting crazy but I have to show him that I would not be taken for a ride. That I am not a moneybag. That I have dignity. I zip the bag up and spin around. My husband is staring at me. “Is everything all right with you, sweetheart?”<br />
“Get out of my way.”
“Where are you going with that bag?”<br />
“I need to clear my head.” I am still yelling.
“Can we talk first?” Biyi suggests.<br />
“I don’t want to talk. Get out of my way.”
He moves out of my path. I swipe a hand across my face, smearing my cheeks with `mascara. “Don’t look for me. I will be back when my head clears.”
I rush out of the house, jump into my car. My rage doubles as the feminine scent permeates the car. He has been with a woman in my car. I feel like an idiot.<br />
* * *<br />
I pull up in front of Dayo’s mansion. Her husband’s Porsche is in the driveway, and the porch lights illuminate my dreary form as I reach the door. I ball my fists to knock, but a scream freezes the motion.<br />
“Kill me!” I hear Dayo scream. “Good for nothing idiot. Womaniser of the century!”<br />
Whoa. Momentarily, I am unable to move. My hand hovers in the air.<br />
Dull thuds, muffled screams. Dennis curses. “I warned you never to serve me stew that is not freshly cooked!”<br />
“Am I your slave?” Dayo yells back. “If you want fresh stew, get your PA to cook it for you. Or you think I don’t know about her? You think…”<br />
Dayo’s words are silenced by another thump. My hands fall to my side as a flurry of blows stifle her cries.<br />
I want call the police, do something…anything. But I cannot move. And so I shut my eyes tight and listen as my friend is pummelled by her husband.<br />
The beating stops. I should dash to my car, but something holds me back.
“I am sorry I got you upset darling,” Dayo finally says. Her voice is laced with pain. “It is my fault. I should have cooked for you. I…Toni wouldn’t let me get off the phone…its her fault.”<br />
“Next time you talk to me like that, I will tattoo a punch on your forehead,” Dennis growls. “Get into the kitchen and make me fresh stew. And do something about that leech you call a friend.”
That is enough for me. I sprint back to my car and drive home.<br />
* * *<br />
A knock sounds on the window. Biyi. I wind down and he gives me a smile. “Head clear now?” he asks.
“Leave me alone,” I mutter. Dayo’s wonderful Denis beats her up? And she never mentioned?<br />
“I will leave you alone in two seconds,” Biyi says. There is a twinkle in his eyes. “But first, get out of the car.”
I oblige, grudgingly. “What?”
He reaches under the car seat and pulls out a small basket. “I didn’t come home straight from the interview. I stopped over at the Perfume shop to get you this.”<br />
He hands the basket over. Inside is a range of exotic feminine perfumes and a small card. I pull the card open, read the words:
“Thank you for your support during the hardest times of my life! I love you.”<br />
“That’s why I was late,” he explains as he pulls me into a warm embrace. “You have been so good to me, Toni. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife.”<br />
I can’t reply. My throat is lumpy.<br />
“When you left the house to clear your head, I got message from the recruiter,” he says with a beam. “God answers prayers, babe. I got a job offer. It’s a package you won’t believe. Let’s go in. I’ll tuck you into bed and you can tell me what’s bothering you?”<br />
* * *<br />
I awaken to a text message from Dayo. “Denis is flying me to Seychelles this weekend. This is what you get when you stand your ground. You have to be a no nonsense gurl! Don’t you just love my life? Ciao sweetheart xxx.”<br />
I type a quick response back: “Ciao!”<br />
And then I promptly delete her number from my phone.<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="color: red;"><b> Written by Abimbola Dare. All rights reserved. 2012</b></span>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-34873046710867611932011-11-05T00:15:00.000+00:002011-11-05T00:15:54.233+00:00Buy the ebook version of The Small Print now- only £2.16<iframe src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0008FF&t=abimdare-20&o=1&p=8&l=as1&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=qf_sp_asin_til&asins=B005YRQB98" style="width:120px;height:240px;" scrolling="no" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" frameborder="0"></iframe><br />
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*If you live outside the uk, you will need to go to amazon.com and search for "abimbola dare the small print" in the search box to purchase for jusy $3.00.<br />
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Did you know that you dont have to own a kindle to read The ebook version of The Small Print? All you need to have is a laptop or a pc. Go to google and type in "download free kindle for PC app", and you'll get the kindle app in a few minutes!<br />
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Dont forget to share your thoughts about The Small Print with me here: <a href="http://www.abimboladare.com/">http://www.abimboladare.com/</a>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-7042388168242611242011-10-21T11:40:00.002+01:002011-10-24T15:58:49.171+01:00The Small Print Blog Tour Starts soon!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSpK_bUH06K7vBVfmKziKyRQo4map4XBU6hXh43crqDloKPoAhYy5EgXaG4uPW7y4KepoImPmqr60BnMBoFAoEqJmgVcgcKcuAnNbshPneccMU4BsPwz_5EZDJRYRYMwbwpUjTzKm6yMxc/s1600/thesmallprint3d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" rda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSpK_bUH06K7vBVfmKziKyRQo4map4XBU6hXh43crqDloKPoAhYy5EgXaG4uPW7y4KepoImPmqr60BnMBoFAoEqJmgVcgcKcuAnNbshPneccMU4BsPwz_5EZDJRYRYMwbwpUjTzKm6yMxc/s320/thesmallprint3d.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
Dear Friends<br />
<br />
I'll be touring as many blogs as possible from November as I prepare for the release of <a href="http://www.abimboladare.com/">The Small Print</a>. So, I am asking my wonderful bloggers to please let me know if you'd be so kind to allow me disturb your blog for one day! hehe. I promise to be smart and sensible. <br />
<br />
My first stop is the amazing <a href="http://www.mynewhitman.com/">Myne Whitman's</a> blog- thanks Myne :-) I'll also be stopping by at faithdames,Lara Daniels, Linda Ikeji and many more.<br />
<br />
Next stop could be your's.... just lemme know- and a free ebook copy of The Small Print will grace your PC!<br />
<br />
<br />
I will also be giving away a free ebook copy to one lucky visitor to your blog on the day I attend!<br />
<br />
Love,<br />
BimbyladsBiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-10098929127774872672011-10-17T20:47:00.002+01:002011-10-19T21:17:08.129+01:00The Small Print- Sample Chapter ONE<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chapter One</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The moment he stepped into room 415 and saw Jennifer Lennox sitting behind the polished mahogany table, Wale Ademola knew he was a dead man. He shut the glass panelled door behind him with a click and glared. It had to be an illusion. He checked again. Nope. This was for real. She was here. What on earth was his ex-wife doing in his office? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Good morning Wale.” The woman sitting next to Jennifer spoke first. Her name was Coleen something from HR. She’d interviewed him only last year, at the start of his job as a temp administrator. She peered at him. “Is something wrong?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He started to come forward, stumbled and bumped into a stationery cupboard. “Sorry. I… I must have the wrong room. I am here for a promotion interview for the trainee project manager position.” It had to be the wrong room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coleen waved a piece of paper at him. “You didn’t get the confirmation email?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He nodded. His mind swirled with questions and he tried his best to look relaxed. Had Jennifer traced him to London? Or was this a nightmare? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coleen gave a reassuring smile. “It will be over before you know it.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My life will be over before you know it. “Uh-huh.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer gave nothing away with her expression, and when she glanced at him it was like she was looking right through him. As though he wasn’t even there. She shifted in her seat and the aqueous floral scent of her perfume smacked his nostrils. He coughed, spluttered. He’d given her the fragrance for her twenty- eighth birthday last year... a day before he – should he say left her? He dropped his gaze to the table. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You look a tad bit uncomfortable,” Coleen said, concern brimming on the edge of her voice. “Take a seat.” She gestured at the only vacant chair in the room.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>In front of Jennifer? God forbid bad thing</em>. He sagged into the chair like an invalid. “Thank you.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Beads of perspiration beneath his armpits prickled. Trouble had landed in his backyard. Jealous enemies from his village in Nigeria had chosen the best time to strike their juju, African black magic. Wale mentally sent a curse in return. Thunder fire them all. Including Jennifer Lennox.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer tossed a stray lock of curled blond hair away from her face and held out her hand. Obviously, his curse did not work. “Mister Ademola,” she said. “An absolute pleasure to meet you.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mister? Her performance deserved a standing ovation. He sat up straight with a tight grin, convinced his expression must look like one on a mug shot. “Same here.” His hands remained on the table, numb. If Jennifer noticed, she didn’t react. She turned to Coleen. “Ready when you are.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“We almost cancelled the interview when Maryann called in sick.” Coleen gave Jennifer a grateful nod. “Thank your stars that Andrea came in on a short notice. She will lead the interview.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Andrea? A chill spread across his body. Jennifer changed her name? He swallowed. “T-that’s fine.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer pointed to the jug on the table. “Water?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Her nails were perfectly manicured, as always, metallic blue with silver sparkles.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><em>Rat poison would be perfect.</em> “No. No thanks.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She sipped water from her glass. “I will allow you a few minutes to get your self together.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wale squinted at the window. Determined rays from the sun streamed into the room even though it was barely ten. Somewhere down below, a car tire scrunched against the asphalt. The engine of a bus shuddered to a stop and the doors hissed open. Stall owners’ voices were faint in the distance as they paraded sun hats and ice-lollies. A perfect summer day. Why hadn’t <em>he</em> called in sick? Cancelled the interview? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Did you bring your identification documents?” Coleen asked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He snapped his head up. “Documents?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Yes. I included the list of acceptable documentation in the email.” She looked a bit irritated. “Your passport?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Crap. He’d been hoping she’d forget. “Do you have to see it now?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coleen’s apologetic smile had a life span of about a nanosecond. “Immigration rules.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Uh, of course.” Wale shoved a reluctant hand into his breast pocket. He fished out a passport that had once been vibrantly green and shook it lightly. The frayed edges coughed out a small cloud of thick, black powder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He forced a smile. “I dropped it in a pile of soot on my way here.” Yeah right. More like good luck charm from Nigeria to distract immigration officers at Heathrow from staring too hard at the passport. They were usually wary of visitors like him coming into the UK: Immigrants with no prospects of ever returning to their country of origin. The charm had worked. Despite the filth, they hadn’t asked a question when he’d presented it. He placed the document into Coleen’s open hand. “Here you go.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You are a Nigerian citizen?” Coleen asked. She blew away some more of the black powder and flipped to the middle page. She studied the page for a long moment. Wale kept his focus on the space behind her head. To the right was an old Xerox photocopier churning out documents with an industrious hum. He stared at the papers as they floated unto the receiving tray, counting in sync with slow eye movements.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Your UK residence permit is a temporary one? Expires in eight months?” Coleen’s eyebrows rose in a probing arc. “This is a permanent position.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wale swallowed, wiped his palms on his thigh. “I will be entitled to a permanent residency real soon.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer suddenly perked up, fluffed the ruffles of the stripped orange shirt underneath her suit. “You certainly will. Won’t you?” Her Irish accent was more pronounced than usual. As it often was when she wanted to be sarcastic.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He stared pointedly at Coleen. “Syms & Syms offers work permits to foreign workers right? I was thinking of-”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“We don’t.” Coleen cut in with a frown. “Not anymore. We exceeded our quota for work permits last week. Are you expecting to get a work permit from us?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last week? Talk about bad luck. “No I am not. I was just asking for information purposes. My, uh, wife is a British citizen.” Stupid answer. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“If you are sure...I guess we can proceed.” Coleen looked at him as though she did not entirely believe him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Hundred percent.” Wale nodded vigorously. “You have nothing to worry about.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer’s cold, cerulean eyes pierced Coleen with a look. “The applicant is an illegal immigrant, and the interview will continue?” She gave half a chuckle. “Is that how Syms & Syms works?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Her words stabbed his gut. <em>Illegal Immigrant</em>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coleen’s eyes flicked between them as if to question Jennifer’s sudden coldness. “Andrea, until Wale’s visa runs out, he cannot be considered an illegal immigrant and will be treated fairly. Trust me, when his visa expires, we will know. And we will deal with it then.” She slid the passport across the table. Wale failed to catch it and the document smacked against the ceramic floor and landed by his feet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coleen continued. “Let’s get on with the interview?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jennifer spread her arms out as if to say “whatever.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The veins in Wale’s head throbbed. Why didn’t he hit the delete key when the cursed job advert landed in his inbox? Because he was an over ambitious idiot with a bank account the size of a dried pimple, that’s why.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Coleen looked at him, an expectant expression on her face. “Well?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He sighed with weariness, feeling as though he was about to be strapped to an electric chair for a crime he did not commit. Finally he nodded. “I am ready.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">***</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Africa!” Wale’s colleague called out as soon as he returned to the main office floor of Syms & Syms, the IT project management consulting firm that employed him. Wale groaned as Q stumbled through scurrying assistants and ringing phones towards the cubicle they shared. Q’s real name was Quaddam, but everyone called him Q. They had been working in the same department- Admin and Supplies- since Wale started at the company. Unlike Wale, Q loved the brain- deadening post office runs, monotonous stationary upkeep and general servitude to the entire company that had been their duties for a little over a year. The position gave Q an opportunity to be the first to hear office gossip while it was still sizzling. On the bright side, Q’s enthusiasm usually made Wale’s days slightly shorter and more bearable. But not today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Get lost Q,” Wale muttered. “And stop calling me Africa.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q gripped a bunch of manila files under his arm as though his life depended on it. “Not until I finish my investigation.” He wheeled a spare chair close and slammed his files on top of Wale’s desk, unsettling the dust around the pen holders. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“What is it?” Wale asked. He reached for a copy of the IT News magazine on his desk, and hoped that Q would take a hint and get lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Andrea Lennox interviewed you,” Q said, hardly noticing his lack of enthusiasm.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Yeah?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“She left a massive IT firm in Manchester to help shape things up here for a few months.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“And?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Why travel all the way from Manchester to London? Syms & Syms has never been in the Times top hundred IT companies to work for.” Q let out a chuckle. “Or top five thousand.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Your point is?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“My point is why?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wale returned to the magazine and fingered it; moving his hands across the images at a snail’s pace. ”I don’t know. Leave me alone.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q nodded but didn’t shift from his position. ”I see the interview didn’t go well?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“It was a blast.” Wale replied in perfect monotone. “Go away.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Feisty.” Q wiggled his index finger. “Don’t worry, Wale. You’ll get the job you have always wanted. Then you will get promoted and leave me here all by myself.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wale placed his palm on his chest and feigned distress. “I’m heartbroken.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Okay.” Q sat bolt upright. “One more question and I am gone.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Five seconds.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Are you and Andrea related in any way, shape or form?” Q’s beady eyes shone with curiosity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Adrenaline propelled Wale out of his seat. “Me and Jen-Andrea related? Why would you think that?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Just answer me.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Why?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Why do you Africans answer questions with questions?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Are you going to talk or not?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“See what I mean?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wale took a deep breath. “This is not the time to muck about.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Q tapped his chin and stared at the ceiling as though his answer was engrained in the perforated tiles. Finally, he lowered his head and said, “I just ordered an ID card for the new project manager.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“So?.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“In her passport, her surname is hyphenated.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wale’s heart thumped. “What has that got to do with the price of fish?” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Wait till I tell you,” Q said and then paused.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I am waiting.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“The first half of her name is the same as yours.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Meaning?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Her full name is Andrea Ademola- Lennox.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The room whirled. Wale closed his eyes. “No. No way.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Yep,” Q said. “I saw it myself. Now what was that about the price of fish?”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">***Thanks for reading.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>For more details and release date, please go to </em></span><a href="http://www.abimboladare.com/"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em>http://www.abimboladare.com/</em></span></a><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><em> and fill in the form on the home page!</em></span>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-8403649944347041472011-10-07T23:59:00.000+01:002011-10-07T23:59:58.292+01:00Ready... Steady...Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
After a long time living on blogger.com. The time to move has finally come. We have collected the keys to the house. The address is <a href="http://www.abimboladare.com/">http://www.abimboladare.com/</a>. There will be a room- a massive one at that- over there- dedicated to Bimbylads blog.<br />
<br />
We have ordered furniture from Ikea and argos. They are being delivered as we speak. Bear with me as I move things around a bit to fix things to suit the taste of the house.<br />
<br />
Join me for the housewarming party. Cold Milo will be served. No mogbo moya. Strictly by IV.<br />
<br />
The IV? Simple... Buy only five copies of the Small Print. <br />
<br />
Finis. ;-)<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
BimbyladsBiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-12132639105476335142011-09-26T20:28:00.002+01:002011-09-26T20:28:33.649+01:00The Small Print- Book Trailer( shortened version)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/uCFevWebtTY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
enjoy......BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-77178062313943058532011-09-26T00:17:00.000+01:002011-09-26T00:17:57.597+01:00The Small Print- Coming Soon<div> Dear friends (hello... anyone out there?)<br />
<br />
Yoo hoo!!Anyone here??? Gosh, I can hear a resounding echo of silence. Sigh. Na me cause am. I know many have sworn not to pass by my page again. Una no vex, I was busy working on my novel, The Small Print. <br />
<br />
I missed you all so much... but now that I have finally finished writing and is in my final editing round, I cant wait to get back to blogging full time.<br />
<br />
I will be moving house though, from my beloved blogger.com to my website: <a href="http://www.abimboladare.com/">http://www.abimboladare.com/</a> ( under construction). I hope to see you there soon.</div><div></div><div>For those who still love me ( ;-)), a portion of the Small Print is pasted here for you to enjoy... ( gosh, I no even sabi blog again, I sound soo formal)<br />
<br />
It is a complete rewrite and revamp of Wale, Eniola Saga. Even if you followed my blog when I wrote this story here, trust me,it is a totally different story. In order words.... you must buy a copy. ;-)</div><div><br />
It is out in Nov 2011 ( doing last minute proofreading) but please let me know your thoughts waaaayyy before then.<br />
<br />
Love you all,<br />
<em>Bimbylads</em></div><div></div><br />
<br />
<div><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<div><object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" id="695140f3-689f-a277-6799-c079e29ca683" style="height: 315px; width: 420px;"><param name="movie" value="http://static.issuu.com/webembed/viewers/style1/v2/IssuuReader.swf?mode=mini&printButtonEnabled=false&backgroundColor=%23222222&documentId=110925222528-0c9f81568a6f43f3b4161c78b362b8c0" /><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"/><param name="menu" value="false"/><param name="wmode" value="transparent"/><embed src="http://static.issuu.com/webembed/viewers/style1/v2/IssuuReader.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" menu="false" wmode="transparent" style="width:420px;height:315px" flashvars="mode=mini&printButtonEnabled=false&backgroundColor=%23222222&documentId=110925222528-0c9f81568a6f43f3b4161c78b362b8c0" /></object><br />
</div>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-69769244294833576632010-12-23T16:22:00.000+00:002010-12-23T16:22:14.988+00:00Merry Xmas and a Happy New YearHi all,<br />
<br />
I know I have been very infrequent in my blogging...and for that, I am sorry. Blogging is just not what it used to be for me, and with added family responsibilities, it gets even tougher.<br />
<br />
But I have not stopped blogging.<br />
<br />
I will be posting a few stories soon ( and hopefully continue Adunni's saga)<br />
<br />
In the meantime.. have a great Xmas. Remember the purpose for Xmas as you eat the chicken,<br />
<br />
Yours,<br />
<em><span style="color: magenta; font-size: large;">~~Bimbylads~~</span></em>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-31003494907199406432010-09-16T01:41:00.001+01:002010-09-16T23:07:04.652+01:00Deal and then some.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJD4AV-inGJ1mIXSlYM50QP65ElTKgadfoPsKEal6UGYEX585a0mYWlT1oHEIwHfQM47tyuvbPPgk2M7vcGEVBCUb6qNx9QEVgEt53AdKfmHgoeaaYM8F5aXRM9-OXTS0UF2bqA4xAAogG/s1600/pick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" qx="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJD4AV-inGJ1mIXSlYM50QP65ElTKgadfoPsKEal6UGYEX585a0mYWlT1oHEIwHfQM47tyuvbPPgk2M7vcGEVBCUb6qNx9QEVgEt53AdKfmHgoeaaYM8F5aXRM9-OXTS0UF2bqA4xAAogG/s200/pick.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Okay... I think I have made you guys wait long enough for this Adunni story....and its time I came out with a deal.... Yup. You and I are going to make a deal.<br />
<br />
So, here is the situation. I am working on another story, and because of that, I have had no time for Adunni and her wahala.Trust me,she knocks on my head everyday to remind me to save her from Princess and Madam's trouble... but I just don't have that much time to work on both stories...and all my domestic activities and work at the moment. When I started Adunni story, I had absolutely no intention of posting the entire story online. I still don't. My plan was, and still is, to post excepts of about 10 chapters on line... just enough to get your very helpful feedback. But even that is proving difficult with trying to juggle everything...and I am terrible at multitasking..<br />
<br />
So. Here is the deal. I will continue to blog as normal, but now and then,I'll surprise you with a chapter or two of Adunni until I have exhausted the chapters I planned to share. Deal or no deal? DEAL!!! yay!! thank you. kiss kiss. for your wonderful co-operation, I promise you won't have to wait too long for it.<br />
<br />
Ok.. enuff of English. A few nights ago, I told Chinese eyes a story and afterwards, he asks me... have you shared this on your blog? and I realised that I hadn't. So today, I'm gonna tell you about something that highly embarrassed me a few years ago.<br />
<br />
You see, I have plenty gap in my teeth. Na so God create me.<br />
If I smile, you will see small dark lines in my mouth.It is not tooth decay o. It is space. <br />
And it even gets worse further inside my mouth.... huge looking gaps that can sit a whole maggi cube.<br />
Of course now, if you have gap inside your mouth and you eat plenty meat like me,it is by force for you to be picking your teeth a lot. <br />
And me, I don't send. If my teeth needs picking, I pick it anyhow, anywhere... with my hand. All I do is open my mouth wide, and begin to uproot the stranded meat with my fingers... and when I grab the meat, I will pull it out, inspect it small and then chew it again. Commot there!..As if you don't do it...<em>pshew!</em><br />
<br />
So one day like this, I decide to go to the library and because there was this cute looking brother in the library that I had a huge crush on.... I took time to dress well well. <br />
Even wore some funky looking wig that itched the life out of me..anything to catch this brother's attention ni o. ( not Chinese eyes. This was waaay before Chinese eyes)<br />
<br />
I get to the library nice and early, scan quickly for a nice spot where I can scope this very fine brother from. I find one: behind a huge pillar. <br />
It is good enough to hide my wanton eyes. <br />
<br />
A few hours later, I decide to have lunch: a chicken sandwich and a drink. <br />
Of couse, plenty meat entered my mouth,so I returned to my seat, checked well to make sure our fine looking brother wasn't looking at me. <br />
He wasn't. Infact I don't think he even knew I existed. <br />
Fine. I sat down and bent my head so that the pillar will hide me very well. <br />
Then I opened my mouth very wide and began to dig for the meat. chai, I dug and dug...but the meat was very stubborn o. I will catch it, pull it and pull it, but the thing no budge. <br />
By the time my whole hand was drenched in saliva, I had to stop for air.<br />
Then I looked around the library: What can I use to remove this nonsense chicken from inside my mouth o? All of a sudden, * light bulb moment*....I realised I could use a book. Yes... the sharp edge of one of the pages of a book could push the chicken out of my mouth for me sharp sharp.<br />
<br />
I picked up a book, separated a page and began to slice through my teeth with it. I sliced tire. <br />
The chicken no gree come.<br />
And books no get strength. Once you slice one through, it gets wet and weak and you have to take another page. <br />
By the time I had reached like ....page 100, I heard footsteps behind me. Yeee!!! The bloke was coming towards me.<br />
The fine looking brother! And I was here sawing my mouth with library book??<br />
<em>Kiya, Kiya,</em> I dropped the book on the table and wiped my mouth. <br />
And then I sat up, adjusted my wig and batted my eyelashes. <br />
As he came closer, my heart was pounding, but I frowned my face and posed. I had made up my mind....if he should dare ask me for my number, I will make him beg. <br />
He had to know that Bimbylads was no easy catch. Yes ke. <em>I am a chic to the core</em>.<br />
He got to my table... I vexed even more. <br />
He reached for his pocket..... pulled out a piece of paper and placed it, ever so gently on my table. <br />
And then he disappeared. Before I could even open my mouth. <br />
I veeexxxeeed. Who did he think he was? Slamming his phone number on my table??? What for? For me to call----- <em>wait o!</em> I looked at the paper closely.<br />
Egba mi. It wasn't his phone number o. Wetin be this?<br />
I tore the paper apart and when I saw what was inside I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. <br />
The guy had left me.... <br />
<strong>A TOOTHPICK!! </strong><br />
<strong>A TOOTHPICK? </strong><br />
<strong>ONE SINGLE STICK OF TOOTHPICK??!!!.</strong><br />
CAN you imagine the nonsense boy? So all the while that I was yanking my mouth with library book,this guy was watching me and maybe feeling sorry for this girl that cannot afford 15pence toothpick?!! HA!<br />
God deliver us from people that watch us in secret o. Awon enemies of progress.<br />
Ofcourse, no one told me before I carried my bags and marched out of the foolish library. Hiss.<br />
<br />
Anyway, that was about 10 yrs ago...before I met sophistication. <br />
Now I use floss.....and things.<br />
<br />
What's your highly embarrasing story?<br />
<br />
xxx<br />
<em><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Bimbylads</strong></span></em>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-18710188327783434272010-08-31T22:09:00.000+01:002010-08-31T22:09:22.155+01:00If you dare....<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>If</strong></span> you know how long it took me to sort out this nonsense--( okay sorry, you are not nonsense...before you vex and go black again)--- template... <br />
If you know what my darling, huge, five year old, keyless laptop went through... you won't even ask me for a post. <br />
<br />
After a looooong search on google,I finally picked this template that looks as if I am love struck. <br />
<br />
Abi..what will you think once you click on it and see LOVE all over?? hence my new theme: Sharing God's love through writing. <br />
<br />
Whatever.<br />
<br />
It is my new template. If you don't like it... skoot.<br />
<br />
Okay, I am just joking. Please like it because I cannot search for another one. It is a long, nonsense process.<br />
<br />
That sorted. <br />
<br />
May this new template shine. <br />
May it not die. <br />
May evil eye not locate it. <br />
May my enemies not find it. HaMEN.<br />
<br />
That said, I am going to download co-codamol inside my laptop for the stress it just faced in uploading this new template. <br />
<br />
I shall be back soonxx<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><em><strong>xxBimbyladsxx</strong></em></span>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-49147992910537091092010-08-20T11:05:00.003+01:002010-08-21T03:50:19.475+01:00Blogger Down<div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I need to close down my blog for a few days for essential maintenance because the layout is messed up.</span></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Thankxxx</span></div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #f3f3f3;"><br />
</div>Sincerely,<br />
<br />
#bimBiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-64579668860682845552010-08-12T00:03:00.000+01:002010-08-12T00:03:16.496+01:00I know... I knowHi All,<br />
<br />
Thanks for all your comments and your waiting ( patiently). I have been really busy and havent even had time for facebook or anything else apart from work. Ill be back real soon... ( give or take 2 weeks by God's grace)...in the mean time, keep guessing what comes next in the story and keep praising Jesus....and If you dont know him yet....what are you waiting for?!!.<br />
<br />
Bless u.<br />
BimxxBiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-66937930701999240542010-07-14T02:11:00.001+01:002010-07-14T02:15:27.342+01:00Okay... even I got tired!I got tired of seeing the same blog post for over three weeks so I thought to write to say: WAzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzaap..!! lol..I know u want the story,but meeeen bimbylads has her hands full at the moment. We have a major event coming up at church and by God's grace I am one of the key workers to ensure the success of the event,so I have been truly busy. <br />
<br />
What have you all been up to?<br />
<br />
*Just a quick update: My natural hair is about 2 centimeters long now.I vexed o.How can my hair be 2 centimeters when I cut it like 3 months ago? So I invested in shea butter, root stimulator, infusium 23.... the whole works. I better start seeing growth soon or else....!<br />
<br />
* I can now fit back into my pre maternity clothes!! YAYYYYYYY!!!!! I wore my old ankara dress and did I look yummy.... well....except the tummy!<br />
<br />
* I am loving God more and more. Yeah,dont be jealous,you can love Him too..<br />
<br />
<br />
OKAY, I just wan touch ground. I should have somin up for you all by saturday. <br />
<br />
In the mean time, tell me what's going on with you? What books have you read lately? Who is annoying you? What has God done in your life that you ought to praise Him for ( everything really!!).<br />
<br />
Bless u and thanks for your patiencexxx<br />
<br />
Oh and I see that a whopping <span style="font-size: large;">161</span> reads have been counted on Kayode meets Adunni story...so people are following it?!! <br />
<br />
make una comment o! <br />
<br />
Thanks for reading...mwahx<br />
<em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">Bimbylads</span></em>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-59823196373282496772010-06-20T03:08:00.000+01:002010-06-20T03:08:39.150+01:00Imperfect Symphony.<span style="color: red;"><strong>Hi guys,</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br />
<strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Sorry for delay. Hope you enjoy this week's post. comments as always are welcome. See you soon.!xx</strong></span><span style="color: red;"><br />
<strong></strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Bim</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>xx</strong></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/33301116/Kayode-6" style="-x-system-font: none; display: block; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif; margin: 12px auto 6px; text-decoration: underline;" title="View Kayode 6 on Scribd">Kayode 6</a> <object data="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf" height="500" id="doc_459164640913989" name="doc_459164640913989" rel="media:document" resource="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=33301116&access_key=key-1pgpl00etanat5bmjvqz&page=1&viewMode=list" style="outline: none;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/searchmonkey/media/"> <param name="movie" value="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf"><param name="wmode" value="opaque"><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="FlashVars" value="document_id=33301116&access_key=key-1pgpl00etanat5bmjvqz&page=1&viewMode=list"><embed id="doc_459164640913989" name="doc_459164640913989" src="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=33301116&access_key=key-1pgpl00etanat5bmjvqz&page=1&viewMode=list" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="500" width="100%" wmode="opaque" bgcolor="#ffffff"></embed> </object>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-7465123858815804732010-06-18T20:05:00.000+01:002010-06-18T20:05:34.289+01:00Inspiring Events- Mountain of Fire and Miracles Ministries<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"> </div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28RG0cKMKzMeboRuS72Ga1SbP7YbcTM_nxjDsLo_Wzx04vKVrr5h-zR38Cffgud2PhOsQm9LXPESZ5h4PMT3e5YC7rkukjgOomYlylCyze-GKNt2Hj0Ui9I38T3soL4scbJmsiZVcRskQ/s1600/women's+deliverance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28RG0cKMKzMeboRuS72Ga1SbP7YbcTM_nxjDsLo_Wzx04vKVrr5h-zR38Cffgud2PhOsQm9LXPESZ5h4PMT3e5YC7rkukjgOomYlylCyze-GKNt2Hj0Ui9I38T3soL4scbJmsiZVcRskQ/s320/women's+deliverance.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Mountain Of Fire and Miracles Ministries Edmonton Branch UK Presents:</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Women's Deliverance Program.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">When: Saturday 26th June 2010</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Where: 21 Queensway, Ponders End, EN3 4SZ</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">Nearest Station: SouthBury BR/ Ponders End BR ( 30 Mins from Liverpool Str)</div><ul><li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong> Divine Healing</strong></span></div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>Revoking Curses and Evil Covenants</strong></span></div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>Conception and Childbirth</strong></span></div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>Marital </strong></span></div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>Financial</strong></span></div></li>
<li><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>And many more</strong></span></div></li>
</ul><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">COME and Experience The Awesome Power of Jesus.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">DR D.K Olukoya, General Overseer of MFM Worldwide.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">email: <a href="mailto:info@mfm.org.uk">info@mfm.org.uk</a> for more information.</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-24113177975353235982010-06-12T23:22:00.004+01:002010-06-13T00:45:56.799+01:00My name is Bimbylads.... and I am ( not) addicted to Makeup<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9eRHxgCTeUWZsqHMzmA9V0qGq2RdEogmZttcVtpPSlBzkFbjvhS3zr5nXBhQHuMDQ_ccKAUaRC5IhhM9OXnCI4_jUbcr-q_ePt5DxAQ45wQkOd6uYScRBDjOdXjg_NVADHY047Z2hEAG/s1600/makeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV9eRHxgCTeUWZsqHMzmA9V0qGq2RdEogmZttcVtpPSlBzkFbjvhS3zr5nXBhQHuMDQ_ccKAUaRC5IhhM9OXnCI4_jUbcr-q_ePt5DxAQ45wQkOd6uYScRBDjOdXjg_NVADHY047Z2hEAG/s320/makeup.jpg" /></a>“<span style="font-size: large;">Bimby,</span> you look beautiful.” Chinese eyes stopped a few feet behind me and placed a gentle palm on my shoulder. I did not turn back to look at him. I studied his expression from the car window.The confident smile tugging the corners of his lips and eyes twinkling with sincerity and love did nothing to lift the cloud of sadness in my heart.</div><br />
<div></div>“But everyone will wonder what happened to me,” I said in an unsteady voice. “I look and feel naked.”<br />
He laughed then. A deep throaty laughter that forced the hint of a smile to my ashen face. “It is all in your mind, Bim,' he said. 'Makeup does not make you look better. You think it does but it doesn’t.”<br />
“but....” I trailed off, tearing my gaze away from the dark circles around my eyes, the blotches of pink rashly skin on my cheeks and my uneven skin. “Never mind.” <br />
<br />
How could he ever understand? Had he ever felt the warm flush of awe that floods through me after I apply the last stoke of my eye brow pencil and smack on my coral-hued lipstick ? Did he know what it felt like to sail into a gathering of people with my head tilted, poised for admiration simply because I had slapped on the exact shade of eye shadow to match my patent high heeled shoes?<br />
<br />
I don’t do fashion.... but make up??Makeup made me feel like a woman. I felt complete with it on and bizarrely, exposed when bared of it.<br />
<div></div>And that was why, when God started to nudge my heart over my addiction to makeup, I fought with every ounce of will power in me to silence His constant whispers. <br />
To start with.. I am NOT addicted to makeup.<br />
Addiction is defined as: being abnormally tolerant to and dependent on something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming.<br />
If the definition of addition was a brand of sport, I'd be <em>Nike</em>. I ticked all the boxes: I was abnormally dependent on make up. I could <em>not </em>go out without something artificial on my face.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkjPeH985fUq-8X3aULUqI58y6gtiJlU_Y8iwrnWiWgWCZZoHwiRpSN_paKyy0nbaTyIofLX2ZP-54cdGJ-CYgOYa13cwW-Trn1EcJmKU_C1l4CXJ52VTnm23vf0TiebLCAnJLcviKKiK/s1600/makeup+addict.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" qu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEkjPeH985fUq-8X3aULUqI58y6gtiJlU_Y8iwrnWiWgWCZZoHwiRpSN_paKyy0nbaTyIofLX2ZP-54cdGJ-CYgOYa13cwW-Trn1EcJmKU_C1l4CXJ52VTnm23vf0TiebLCAnJLcviKKiK/s320/makeup+addict.jpg" /></a></div>God continued to warn me: Each time I closed my eyes to draw a line of lead inside my eyelids, I would hear His voice, gentle, coaxing: “I made you in my image. If I thought your eyes needed darkening, I would have added an extra shade of black when I moulded them.” <br />
<br />
I tried hard to shut the voice out. You would sometimes see me on the road, shaking my head violently, a feeble attempt to keep the Most High quiet.<br />
I decided to talk to Chinese eyes about it. My husband had always been my biggest supporter when I used to wear a lot of makeup. He would often be my mirror, nodding his approval at the way I matched my colours to the perfect shade. Since God was not an author of confusion...<em> if</em> He wanted me to stop wearing makeup, <em>then</em> He would have to convince my husband first.<br />
<br />
<div> “When you wake up in the morning, do you have make up on?” my husband asked after a long moment of silence after I’d told him. </div>I shook my head with a short laugh. “Of course not.”<br />
“That’s when you look the most beautiful.” He winked at me. “Listen to what the Lord has said, Bim. You know He wouldn’t ask you to do something that would be detrimental to your soul.”<br />
My jaw dropped. That’s it? Wasn’t he going to forbid me from stepping out of the house with a face devoid of makeup? Wasn't he going to ask me to pray again, maybe God would change his mind?Goodness me! My hubby did not even argue with me!<br />
<div></div>I shuffled out of the bedroom; my head slumped against my chest with disappointment. God had already worked on my husband. I was the one that needed working on. I wasn't addicted to drugs, or alcohol or porn... but I was addicted to makeup... and worst still. ...I had made attractive tubes of colourful paste <em>a god</em> without knowing.<br />
Yes, I, a self confessed servant of Jesus, child of God was an Idolater. Only I wasn’t bowing my head to carved wood or welded metal. But I trusted my paintbox more than my God when it came to measuring the extent of my beauty.... and it had gotten so bad that I couldn’t even do without it.<br />
<br />
It took long hours of deliberation and a lot of courage, but I emptied my makeup bag:<br />
<ul><li><strong><span style="color: red;">Mac foundation</span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="color: red;">Eye pencil x 4: black, deep black, brown, light brown</span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="color: red;">Maybelline shimmering eye shadow, about ten tubs.</span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="color: red;">Lip gloss: about 4 tubes, some half empty: </span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="color: red;">Black mascara x 2, green mascara x 1, blue mascara x 1</span></strong></li>
<li><strong><span style="color: red;">A host of other bottles of crap that I had grown accustomed to wearing on my face</span></strong>.</li>
</ul>I was a walking makeup counter! <br />
So I ditched it all, did a little victory dance, celebrated my freedom.<br />
Three weeks later, I took a trip to the store. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and my heart dropped to the ceramic floor.<br />
<br />
I looked... Plain, boring, drab... and ugly.<br />
<br />
Ugly. <br />
<br />
<div>My hands trembled as I grabbed a tub of mascara and a stick of eye pencil. I raced to the counter, paid for my precious items and skipped home,giddy with excitement.</div><br />
This time around, the Spirit of God said nothing to me... and boy, was I glad? God had finally let me be.<br />
<div></div>That bad huh?” My husband said when he saw me. He stared at my face with an amused smile. “You spend half a minute in a cosmetic store and you start to get withdrawal symptoms?<br />
Withdrawal symptoms... wasn't that a word synonymous with drug addicts?<br />
That was almost a month ago. <br />
I am still working on it. <br />
I have been clean for almost three months, but for a few days when I slipped...( lol.. addiction terminology!)<br />
BUT<br />
I am not going it alone: I am asking God to totally sever my love for false beauty. I am asking Him to help me see myself as that woman he lovingly took time to craft after He had created everything else. <br />
Afterall: I was his last and best creation. <br />
I am <strong><span style="color: #e06666;">WO</span></strong><em>MAN</em>. Thats WOnderful MAN.<br />
Fearfully and wonderfully made. <br />
I am Bimbylads. God created me in His image.<br />
And If He doesn’t need makeup.. .<br />
<br />
Then neither do I.<br />
<br />
So HELP ME GOD.<br />
Inspired by <a href="http://www.ezratosh.blogspot.com/">Ezratosh</a>. I Love you sister.<br />
<br />
<div></div>Question for you.... search yourself deepl<span style="background-color: yellow;">y. What is your addiction?</span><br />
<br />
Catch the next episode of my story in less than Five days....!BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-69802310988781371662010-05-29T00:34:00.001+01:002010-05-29T00:34:44.103+01:00Drooling....in deep sorrow.Hi All,<br />
<br />
Thanks to everyone who has read and especially those who have commented, thanks thanks. Your comments,especially your criticisms help me. Thank you. Last week <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">Adunni</span> was introduced to Madam's house and her amusing daughter, Princess....and she really hopes things will finally get better for her... Will they? Find out now! ( gosh, I sound <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">soo</span> <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">nollywoodish</span>)<br />
<br />
Enjoy!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/32141140/Adunni-52-1" style="-x-system-font: none; display: block; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 14px Helvetica, Arial, Sans-serif; margin: 12px auto 6px; text-decoration: underline;" title="View Adunni_52[1] on Scribd"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: yellow;">Adunni</span>_52[1]</a> <object data="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf" height="500" id="doc_757317775225726" name="doc_757317775225726" rel="media:document" resource="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=32141140&access_key=key-2florsm8dgpa8dudo0kr&page=1&viewMode=list" style="outline-color: invert; outline-style: none; outline-width: medium;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/searchmonkey/media/"> <param name="movie" value="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf"><param name="wmode" value="opaque"><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="FlashVars" value="document_id=32141140&access_key=key-2florsm8dgpa8dudo0kr&page=1&viewMode=list"><embed id="doc_757317775225726" name="doc_757317775225726" src="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=32141140&access_key=key-2florsm8dgpa8dudo0kr&page=1&viewMode=list" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="500" width="100%" wmode="opaque" bgcolor="#ffffff"></embed> </object>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-33229916451169658302010-05-27T13:29:00.000+01:002010-05-27T13:29:19.293+01:00Where did you meet the one?<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wH7RDKxVhudQSiVAfJSgUG7sXKODhCYlqww1zgKhxd04BzuZkDb8i5AhIbo2i7v_Qkamt7IgSSeU0X40QTeefNQWti-X4JEFpRAbYiDdpt1ax2Qe3XCZoKx1qo2BPNbe1kROkYRj912J/s1600/lovemeet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1wH7RDKxVhudQSiVAfJSgUG7sXKODhCYlqww1zgKhxd04BzuZkDb8i5AhIbo2i7v_Qkamt7IgSSeU0X40QTeefNQWti-X4JEFpRAbYiDdpt1ax2Qe3XCZoKx1qo2BPNbe1kROkYRj912J/s200/lovemeet.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
"How did you meet your wife?" I asked one of my brothers recently.<br />
<br />
" The first time I saw her name on a piece of paper, I knew she'd be my wife." He said with a heart warming smile crowned with a twinkle in his eyes. " Even before I met her, I knew it."<br />
<br />
I knew then that it wasn't a decision he regretted, or ashamed to talk about. I had the evidence in front of me anyway.. almost twenty years of marriage.... still together, very much in-love and clearly happy. <br />
<br />
I didn't see Chinese eyes's name on a paper or in a dream. <br />
<br />
I met Chinese eyes in the library. I was supposed to be studying for first year exams, and I can never forget that day because the moment I saw him... even from a distance, something stopped me in my tracks. Literally.<br />
( oh gosh.. If he reads this, I am sure he'll send me a sneazy text saying, "'you didn't say how cute I was looking..."' whateverrrr).<br />
He came over to where I was and asked what I still call the most unbelievably cheesy question ever: <br />
" Is this the law section?" he asked this, while eyeing <em>over one thousand law textbooks</em>. <br />
I almost blurted: "Noo.. it <em>is Ch</em>inese and Mandarin section..!" hiss....Cant you see the LAW books that are almost falling on your head? if you want to toast babe, get to the point!"<br />
<br />
I immediately glazed over with boredom, thinking... " okay, you are cute, but please, can you not see or read?"<br />
<br />
He must have noticed this because he said." I can never date a lawyer". <br />
I almost fainted with shock. I don't know you. I don't know your name. for all I know, you are the library security man, and you are telling me that you can never date a lawyer! If u cannot date a lawyer, what is my own? Find a friggin nurse or somin.<br />
<br />
But, what he said made me start defending my law profession, saying stuff like.."What do you mean by that? Lawyers are intelligent, brilliant... Have you ever dated a lawyer? what do you know about law? blah blah...." <br />
As I rambled on, this guy wasn't even listening to me. He was checking me out.. BIG TIME! I realised that he just said that to get me started so we can talk! He confessed later that the line is a well used line of his. If I had been in the animal section of the library, he would have said exactly the same thing: <br />
" I can never date an animal.. abi an animal lover?! loll" ....men sha!<br />
<br />
Long 'tori cut short, Mr Chinese eyes stole my heart... cheesy line and all.<br />
<br />
The story my brother told me about how he met his wife amazed me, and warmed my heart, especially because of how they met and because they are obviously still in love. This set me thinking...I wondered how many people met thier spouses in amusing, funny, unusual circumstances. I wonder how many people met thier spouses and hated them at first, only to be saying I DO a few years later.<br />
<br />
Or did you see thier name in City people magazine and knew it? lol.. jus kidding.. but you get my drift!<br />
Were you friends first, and then one day, bam! it hit you that you had fallen?<br />
And even if you are not married, how would you love to meet your dream man/ woman? where would be the ideal place?<br />
<br />
Share your thoughts, while I work hard on my next story.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><em>Bimbylads</em></span>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-14514892047449641602010-05-25T21:10:00.002+01:002010-05-25T21:15:03.655+01:00Inspiring Events- Family Conference<span style="font-size: large;">So, I am starting a new series called, Inspiring Events</span>, where I will show case events happening around the world, specifically for those who are seeking God in one way or the other. <br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">If you would like your church/ inspiring event advertised on my blog,please email: </span><a href="mailto:bimbyladsblog@yahoo.co.uk"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">bimbyladsblogAT</span>yahoo.co.<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">uk</span></span></a><span style="background-color: white;">, artwork included, if any.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Praise Chapel UK, invites you to their <span class="goog-spellcheck-word">ann</span><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">ual</span> As For Me and My House Family Conference: </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">And this year's theme is Redeeming, Restoring and Reviving Relationships. I call the 4R's.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyB8QA9eTXBpnGAWTH5SvwuubWNVNuuoBUTxgsO06KVc3oecg6FY8GG35U4z0kSjrMaryYGqrJv2HmaAojEA7laZ0Nj9wH6WpcsZhHHmX9DzAgYTxgfFJKmOmURxwYenxc8F8uVIT9YWsQ/s1600/family_conference.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyB8QA9eTXBpnGAWTH5SvwuubWNVNuuoBUTxgsO06KVc3oecg6FY8GG35U4z0kSjrMaryYGqrJv2HmaAojEA7laZ0Nj9wH6WpcsZhHHmX9DzAgYTxgfFJKmOmURxwYenxc8F8uVIT9YWsQ/s400/family_conference.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br />
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</span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><strong>This 4 day event is packed with:</strong></span><br />
<ul><li><span style="background-color: white;">In depth and soul-stirring workshops on topics including: </span></li>
</ul><span style="background-color: white;">*<strong><span style="color: red;">Why does He/ She do that?:</span></strong> You can't seem to understand your wife / husband? They get on your nerves constantly? This one's for you! A workshop for married couples and singles.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: red;"><strong>*<span style="color: purple;">How To Find the Right Mate</span>:</strong></span> Tired of dating the wrong person? Confused about the Sex/ No Sex before marriage? This workshop is packed with advice, prayer and organised for the singles and young adults.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">*<span style="color: red;"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">The #1 Key to Incredible Sex</span>:</strong></span> Ha! this one, I know your eye will shine!. For the married only o! need I say more? ;-)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">* <span style="color: blue;"><strong>Exposing <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">th</span>e Silent Thieves of relationships</strong>:</span> organised to expose the silent struggles couples face, treated with sensitivity and openness, to restore, redeem a<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">nd</span> heal relationships by God's power.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">*<span style="color: #38761d;"><strong>Real Life, Real Change:</strong></span> Are you stuck in a dead end job? Feel like a noose is around your neck, hooked unto lead? This one's for you. A motivational and challenging workshop. NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED!</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">*Parenting: Raising Boys, Good parenting guides and LOTS MORE</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><strong><span style="color: red;">Ministering:</span></strong> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mark <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Gungor</span></span> ( Laugh your way, USA)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Mary <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Goudie</span> ( <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">NGM</span>, UK)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Dave Edwards ( USA)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Kofi</span> and <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Jayn</span>e <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Banful</span></span>, ( Praise Chapel London, Hosts)</span></div><span style="background-color: white;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Guess who will be performing? <span style="font-size: large;"> Gabriel <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Eziashi</span></span>, Charlie and Jill Le <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Blanc</span> and the amazing praise chapel Band.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Come and be blessed, led, challenged, healed and <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">inspiried</span>.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">ALL meetings and workshops are<span style="font-size: large;"> FREE</span>. Light Refreshments can be purchased from the on site cafe.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">More Info? contact: </span><a href="mailto:info@myhouseconference.org"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">infoAT</span><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">myhouseconferenc</span>e.org</span></a><span style="background-color: white;"> or </span><a href="mailto:bimbyladsblog@yahoo.co.uk"><span style="background-color: white;"><span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">bimbyladsblogAT</span>yahoo.co.<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">uk</span></span></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;">Address: Gladstone Park Complex, Gladstone Park Primary School, <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Cullingworth</span> Road, <span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background-attachment: scroll; background-image: none; background-position: 0% 0%; background-repeat: repeat;">Dollis</span> Hill, London. NW10 1ET.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="background-color: white;"><br />
</span></div><span style="background-color: white;">Really!!...What better way to begin the remaining half of this year?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Bless you, and see you tommorow for a continuation of the story by God's grace.</span><br />
<span class="goog-spellcheck-word" style="background: #ffffff;">Bimbyladsxx</span>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-71199085159263524642010-05-24T23:16:00.002+01:002010-05-24T23:18:23.778+01:00Teasing....Cup Cakes<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVqbD6jbHKbgY-kag596TYeNQmCxJpzt5JKqoehyphenhyphenaNcEnhNAVHjei0QFbcF1kwDb1OgFllQwdOkoS9oNFOmdoWqjKCSHSvzIS7Se32TKL2jNZ-SSgvo3xm_kqA27_V-QAku8xERR7paHa/s1600/sofia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxVqbD6jbHKbgY-kag596TYeNQmCxJpzt5JKqoehyphenhyphenaNcEnhNAVHjei0QFbcF1kwDb1OgFllQwdOkoS9oNFOmdoWqjKCSHSvzIS7Se32TKL2jNZ-SSgvo3xm_kqA27_V-QAku8xERR7paHa/s200/sofia.jpg" width="200" /> Now that is just painfully sweet looking!</a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GQdulEV6sBGhaETdcksOsKJG6hb8mwATcf7EqPZE_UN-XTTH73AivR7bLEha6Uh9YCDtcaO2GTj0IqwC7x3afxcPpNolF8PVtAR8z3XlMqgsiduSgENkesw7hO9PGoc8BebGWDH7t4Xf/s1600/sofia2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GQdulEV6sBGhaETdcksOsKJG6hb8mwATcf7EqPZE_UN-XTTH73AivR7bLEha6Uh9YCDtcaO2GTj0IqwC7x3afxcPpNolF8PVtAR8z3XlMqgsiduSgENkesw7hO9PGoc8BebGWDH7t4Xf/s320/sofia2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>Yummy!</strong></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFORk3hHP-21TSodud_c-vqf4SRBg1eyW27lrlgStvuU3G9j4aiZXXErCb-Thj_reE33j3dgKWL2rHHUtYGMzh_u6_kzbk09ePmdh2hsp-sPvPy9X-WssH-vcA6u3mhbecG_BHkuPHya8I/s1600/cakes3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFORk3hHP-21TSodud_c-vqf4SRBg1eyW27lrlgStvuU3G9j4aiZXXErCb-Thj_reE33j3dgKWL2rHHUtYGMzh_u6_kzbk09ePmdh2hsp-sPvPy9X-WssH-vcA6u3mhbecG_BHkuPHya8I/s200/cakes3.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjBMPY6kHvKDBr88ZhBSicpoGHP6WCUvHths6BelxFv9YJQ0X8wjwVQ2ZbIHfCMGPgHKFI56cqowzwNx7m5VFA-ghwyHYOkRXOHVmOAuTJdSP5yq3GSzkFXQeMj9lnISPnexLuw7uNnUj/s1600/sophia5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjBMPY6kHvKDBr88ZhBSicpoGHP6WCUvHths6BelxFv9YJQ0X8wjwVQ2ZbIHfCMGPgHKFI56cqowzwNx7m5VFA-ghwyHYOkRXOHVmOAuTJdSP5yq3GSzkFXQeMj9lnISPnexLuw7uNnUj/s320/sophia5.jpg" /></a><strong>To be 25 again? sigh!*</strong></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;">To order: <span style="color: black;"><strong><a href="mailto:soph23@ymail.com">soph23@ymail.com</a></strong></span></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong> UK delivery for now.</strong></div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><strong>For more pics,clearer shots and prices: facebook sophia's delights</strong></div>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-69678702689254718352010-05-20T12:32:00.003+01:002010-05-25T21:26:08.179+01:00The Long Cycle of Friendship.Hi guys,<br />
<br />
Thank you for following my story, ( those who are). It has been a tough week for me, and I noticed a serious lack of flow in my writing, typos... anyway, I am not very pleased with the outcome. It goes to show how mood really affects the writer. I also find it slightly difficult to write in First person and third person at the same time... voice, narrative, dialogue.. everything funny shaped! Challenges, challenges.<br />
<br />
Anyway, rambling over. Enjoy!<br />
<br />
for those who are just starting to follow this... kindly scroll down my page for the remaining stories.<br />
<i><span style="color: red;"></span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
Babatunde 4<br />
<object data="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf" height="600" id="doc_92675868458228" name="doc_92675868458228" style="outline: none;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf"><param name="wmode" value="opaque"><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="FlashVars" value="document_id=31643214&access_key=key-ze80a257vn45wvnoc3h&page=1&viewMode=list"><embed id="doc_92675868458228" name="doc_92675868458228" src="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=31643214&access_key=key-ze80a257vn45wvnoc3h&page=1&viewMode=list" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="600" width="100%" wmode="opaque" bgcolor="#ffffff"></embed> </object>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-10086972553086486142010-05-14T14:47:00.001+01:002010-05-15T12:34:58.655+01:00My Favourite Authors/ Books<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I love to read. I can read five books at a time. Easy. And for a long time, I never thought about writing until I read a really, really badly written book. It was so bad that I snapped it close halfway, picked up my laptop, and muttered to myself, " If that author can write.... then, I can write." And a few months later, my first crappy, equally badly written manuscript was born, and shared with you all on this blog. (remember...Wale.. Eniola...). But I had done it. And I enjoyed the process!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">But, that said, there are some really great authors / Books out there, and in order of absolutely no priority, these are my five favourite authors as at May 2010.. The list changes every three months, but so far, Harlan Coben and Sidney Sheldon have remained consistent....</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-size: large;">1<strong><span style="color: red;">. Harlan Coben.</span></strong></span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDTLrPLF0SuNATsMk6JxHzNrvN0-8zEnEjQfraKZWIy10VHnmUxdXnAUnA5_IBhAPqithzkCDa3amEXqXSGCJq-gduasDnPh9ToHRvFoAMjfTStmPJ-2Z4K8888WYiABXxlUUtUwCghi23/s1600/harlancoben+caught.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDTLrPLF0SuNATsMk6JxHzNrvN0-8zEnEjQfraKZWIy10VHnmUxdXnAUnA5_IBhAPqithzkCDa3amEXqXSGCJq-gduasDnPh9ToHRvFoAMjfTStmPJ-2Z4K8888WYiABXxlUUtUwCghi23/s320/harlancoben+caught.jpg" wt="true" /></a>I love this author. I love his writing style, I love his humor. I love his twists... suspense.... thrills. He is awesome. His latest book, CAUGHT is on my watchlist... *p.s: my birthday is not too far away.. you can dash me this book.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Honestly, if you are after a book that will keep you biting your nails, shifting off the edge of your seat and screaming at everything to keep silent you you can just read.... HARLAN is the one for you. Plus...he is such an easy read.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">2. <strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Kendra Norman Bellamy:</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8XpuljXMIvFXPxhoqr9g6ynob1TEJmSfMrwW1BoIWEzpcp_MQwKn0_bhx8n0DuGelByZ7XTg7py08HISHOgNUEJeugtiefqcGR9aZfVx-qfF3HLfI8UAlZar0GuOKHZCHZvyYYgcato8D/s1600/Kendra+Nbellamy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8XpuljXMIvFXPxhoqr9g6ynob1TEJmSfMrwW1BoIWEzpcp_MQwKn0_bhx8n0DuGelByZ7XTg7py08HISHOgNUEJeugtiefqcGR9aZfVx-qfF3HLfI8UAlZar0GuOKHZCHZvyYYgcato8D/s320/Kendra+Nbellamy.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">African American Christian Fiction Author. She is absolutely funny, and passes the message of God's love and Salvation without being preachy. For Love and Grace is her first published work, and I love... love it!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">3. <span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>Jeffrey Archer:</strong></span> </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">One word: Genius. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInHnojFuxS0lhvHG0y16-a1DrIRYHB_7wz9VByx16B7MJLlLKRvSaETlAK4x2wCISqk0FKKQmm9UC3b4UubGM4AZukoTJ6Xm5x_RdEXy3dFSqtLYdLCS8UaBLJ9uWe599wa37XzBix30f/s1600/Jeffrey+Archer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInHnojFuxS0lhvHG0y16-a1DrIRYHB_7wz9VByx16B7MJLlLKRvSaETlAK4x2wCISqk0FKKQmm9UC3b4UubGM4AZukoTJ6Xm5x_RdEXy3dFSqtLYdLCS8UaBLJ9uWe599wa37XzBix30f/s320/Jeffrey+Archer.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">This book Kane and Abel is an amazing work of fiction that has stood the test of time. The only problem I have with his work is the sometimes slow pacedness of it. But apart from that.. Mr Archer.. you rawk!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">4. Sidney Sheldon. ( RIP)</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I hardly say these words, but Sidney Sheldon is the master of story telling. I do not care that critics have sliced his writing style to shreds... I love him, and what Bimby Loves, Bimby Loves. Sidney Sheldon... pass your writing mantle to me abeg!</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQu6frHfYu1onJrEjdrZSr-5GweK5TL1I-7YlVWOWRl9FNV7EEA7j40YfMaEhU-85YOvjp5g4b3JGDaggerUKLreuE-XwzogFQv1kBa-F7QvwVEc5l3A_LXud2DWHy_qpyzgR5WHqqn1QB/s1600/sidney+sheldon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQu6frHfYu1onJrEjdrZSr-5GweK5TL1I-7YlVWOWRl9FNV7EEA7j40YfMaEhU-85YOvjp5g4b3JGDaggerUKLreuE-XwzogFQv1kBa-F7QvwVEc5l3A_LXud2DWHy_qpyzgR5WHqqn1QB/s320/sidney+sheldon.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">6. <strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Francine Rivers.</span></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Ibdfe2ztO0fxNORqxE6lwWujQnQelmW8Zgc6pgk8t-mUGbwmAtvWOCiLO8uYSO9goP7yk0BIfz4pRCyTloocuzRXNkCR8pvad3bU4LW-arivxrt7hBnFnH3hHVyoe_QKETzxaxl5aSaq/s1600/francine+Rivers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Ibdfe2ztO0fxNORqxE6lwWujQnQelmW8Zgc6pgk8t-mUGbwmAtvWOCiLO8uYSO9goP7yk0BIfz4pRCyTloocuzRXNkCR8pvad3bU4LW-arivxrt7hBnFnH3hHVyoe_QKETzxaxl5aSaq/s320/francine+Rivers.jpg" wt="true" /></a></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Ok, I confess, I am one of those who think Redeeming Love was a bit over hyped. I thought it was too long, slow paced... and just... a bit blah!... That is not to say that the Queen of Christian Fiction doesnt write well, far from it! and infact, when I read, And the Shofar Blew... I fell totally in writing love with Francine Rivers. Fantastic read this is! </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">who are your favourite authors and why?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Working on my manuscript for the next installment, so bare with me please</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Ciao,</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><em><span style="color: purple; font-size: large;">Bimbylads</span></em></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-85284014164432260622010-05-14T12:43:00.004+01:002010-05-14T13:21:29.005+01:00The New Bimby's Book Series. Chapter One<div style="text-align: center;"><div align="left"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"><em>Welcome to Bimby's Book series 2. </em></span></strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span style="color: black; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: small;"><em>To read the story in full screen, kindly click on Full screen. To zoom in so the text can be larger, click on the + sign below the document.</em></span></strong></span></div><div align="left"><br />
And finally, please leave a comment, let me know your thoughts. It is what spurs me on.<br />
xxx<br />
Bimbylads<br />
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</div><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong> Adunni</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-size: large;"><strong>Ilu Epo. South West Nigeria.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/31354419/Adunni-1" style="-x-system-font: none; display: block; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 14px Helvetica,Arial,Sans-serif; margin: 12px auto 6px; text-decoration: underline;" title="View Adunni 1 on Scribd">Adunni 1</a> <object data="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf" height="600" id="doc_254851782886285" name="doc_254851782886285" style="outline: none;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="100%"> <param name="movie" value="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf"><param name="wmode" value="opaque"><param name="bgcolor" value="#ffffff"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="FlashVars" value="document_id=31354419&access_key=key-1z361rpnsy5g30vpde6r&page=1&viewMode=list"><embed id="doc_254851782886285" name="doc_254851782886285" src="http://d1.scribdassets.com/ScribdViewer.swf?document_id=31354419&access_key=key-1z361rpnsy5g30vpde6r&page=1&viewMode=list" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="600" width="100%" wmode="opaque" bgcolor="#ffffff"></embed> </object> <br />
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</div>BiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6765596606813570502.post-61155463112136401962010-05-13T00:05:00.000+01:002010-05-13T00:05:34.993+01:00A Heart to Mend- Book Promotion<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">An Aspiring Author myself, I am thrilled to promote this amazing work of fiction by Myne Whitman. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEg2INU79czFzrrim7u-phR259FQpn47DIMp0ipfMCI7PjzsF2ftqKFpxtWoGHlEFIatDZQSQM7FDBQmUKJt92FqjRcj6xPIzruFpKeSZE0JXb9Mk4IH3VCnF_wJuxUEaEZAacRj5wxpi/s1600/GetAttachment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEg2INU79czFzrrim7u-phR259FQpn47DIMp0ipfMCI7PjzsF2ftqKFpxtWoGHlEFIatDZQSQM7FDBQmUKJt92FqjRcj6xPIzruFpKeSZE0JXb9Mk4IH3VCnF_wJuxUEaEZAacRj5wxpi/s320/GetAttachment.jpg" wt="true" /></a><strong></strong></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Sheltered Gladys Eborah has spent most of her life in a suburb of Enugu brought up in a deprived single parent household after losing her father as a young girl. After finishing her education, she moves to Lagos to seek a job and moves in with an estranged aunt who now wants to be forgiven for all perceived wrongs. Gladys suspects Aunt Isioma abandoned them out of disdain for their poverty, and has the uneasy role of the bridge between both families.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Her new friendships and career achievements gradually transition Gladys into an independent young woman. Soon, she begins to fall for wealthy Edward Bestman who, though physically attracted to her, is emotionally unavailable. Edward is very wealthy, but he is haunted by the past of his illegitimate birth and other secrets he will not share.</div><br />
The themes of premarital sex, social class mobility, and romantic ups and downs that mark a budding love are fully explored. However, Myne Whitman takes the story even further. Some unnamed people are about to take over Edward’s business empire and Gladys is implicated. Who are these people who want to betray him and destroy their happiness?<br />
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<em>What others are saying:</em><br />
+++++++++++<br />
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</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ccyjvYK2udNnwXky2Mc12HAP_y1YxkiME8Ak5UIEFKQa3pYQDXwba2SGHqkp8I6ymg66bk_tsAbokSXR73QOrvY1qeykPhx_hzn8uvFEQvPK4e6UmHTcO2oRwepsVOPSsNgq93nwdOIj/s1600/a+heart+to+mend+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3ccyjvYK2udNnwXky2Mc12HAP_y1YxkiME8Ak5UIEFKQa3pYQDXwba2SGHqkp8I6ymg66bk_tsAbokSXR73QOrvY1qeykPhx_hzn8uvFEQvPK4e6UmHTcO2oRwepsVOPSsNgq93nwdOIj/s320/a+heart+to+mend+2.jpg" wt="true" /></a>“Written by a Nigerian…with Nigerian characters and setting, “A heart to mend” is a fun and fast read.” – PAMELA STITCH, African Loft Magazine</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div>“…a powerful story of how love doesn’t strut, never gives up, never looks back and keeps going to the end.” - SHOLA ADU-OKUBOTE, Femme Lounge Online<br />
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“…something different. Some may say it is ideal to think about love…but love (romance) still exists against all odds.” - TEMITAYO OLOFINLUA, Bookaholic<br />
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“A Heart to Mend will bring tears to the eyes and cheers at the end especially for those who have experienced the search for a career or tumultuous family and emotional relationships.” – LAN THANO, Seattle<br />
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"A Heart to Mend is certainly a romance story laddered with emotion...and already the suspense is building..."AHAOMA KANU, National Daily Newspaper<br />
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“Nigerian readers can now satisfy their yearning for well written, homegrown romance stories while the foreign readers can treat themselves to a different kind of romance--one made in the highly boisterous commercial Lagos.” - NEXT Newspaper<br />
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grab your copy on amazon now!<br />
<br />
See you Friday for Bbs 5.<br />
BimbyladsBiMbyLaDs**http://www.blogger.com/profile/17437748097637565289noreply@blogger.com2