FEDDIE GIRL!!! So close...

Hey everyone,

We are getting close to the release date of advance copies of FEDDIE GIRL: The Hilarious Adventures of an American Teen in a Nigerian Federal School.

And hang-on, we got a new cover coming too.
You didn't think we were gonna use the same stuff we have blasted on blogs all over the Internet, did you? You actually did? Lol! My bad!
Nah, we got the whole nine yards covered.
New cover, poster, and blurbs would be uploaded on the publisher's site on July 13th. Watch-out!!!

Official release date for the novel is set for February, 2010.

Hey, hold-on!!!

Advance/pre-release copies would be available in three countries as follows:

United States: July 27th, 2009
United Kingdom: July 31st, 2009
Nigeria: August 24th, 2009

Remember, advance copies of FEDDIE GIRL will only be available via bernardbooks.com and only to those lucky few who reserve a copy before July 27th.

Others would have to wait and read the novel after February, 2010. If you don't wanna be one of those slackers who will not get a taste of FEDDIE GIRL until next year, you gotta buckle up and RESERVE AN ADVANCE COPY NOW!

Don't miss-out on this awesome opportunity. Read FEDDIE GIRL six months before the rest of the world!!! LOL!!!

Lotta Luv,
Carlotta

Uh-uh... A Typical Class Day!!!

Hi all,
This is an excerpt from the actual novel, FEDDIE GIRL by Nona David. Advance copies of the novel will be released this July, but availability will be by reservation only. Click HERE to reserve copies.

ENJOY THE SNEAK PEEK!

The next morning dawned bright and clear, but Carlotta was apprehensive in the presence of her new classmates.

Having to attend a girls’ boarding school in a foreign country was not too bad. But, what Carlotta loathed about school period was the deafening and head aching quarrels her classmates indulged in when there was no teacher in the classroom.

It was only 8:45 AM and, already, the JS1D students were at it again. This time, they were bickering and fighting one another about what cities and towns in Nigeria had the best residential areas. When words weren’t enough, they resorted to throwing missiles in the form of books, combs, and school sandals.

As if anyone cares where others grew up, Carlotta thought, feeling miserable. She’d lived her whole life in the United States and hadn’t been able to do a thing about it when her parents decided to ship her off to a boarding school in Nigeria as punishment for getting expelled from middle school.

The noise was making her head hurt. Carlotta depressed her vibrating eyeballs with the heel of her palms, hoping to keep them from falling out of their sockets. She was wondering how the girls were able to keep up such a racket, when a particularly loud bang surprised her into snapping her eyes open.

A furious looking male teacher stood at the classroom door.

The students stopped fighting at once. The screeching was cut off from the throats of two students—like a raging fire abruptly doused with water. One final sandal arched high above the heads of the students and landed squarely in the middle of the blackboard with a loud thud, then skidded mournfully down to the ground. Several girls scuttled back to their seats. Ndidi and her cohorts scrambled down from their lockers.

When all was calm, the class stared sheepishly at the dark male teacher leaning against the doorframe.

The teacher considered them for a while, his handsome face devoid of expression. Without much show of annoyance, he strolled into the classroom and stood before the students. “I am not going to inquire as to the cause of the noise,” he declared, “but this is a classroom, and it is time for my lesson.” He walked over to the blackboard and picked up the lone sandal. “Who lost this?” he asked in a scathing tone, holding the rubber footwear aloft by the tips of his forefinger and thumb, dangling it like an offending rodent for the whole class to see.

A chubby girl walked up to him like one would to a dangerous dog. “Please sir, it’s mine,” she breathed, and held out her hand for the shoe.

The teacher cast her a wary eye, snorted, and dropped the sandal in her hand.

The girl clutched the shoe and scurried back to her seat.

The teacher sneered then turned abruptly and picked up the duster. With a swift swipe of his left hand, he wiped the board clean. His right hand moved with lightening speed as he wrote the word mathematics on the board with a piece of white chalk. He whirled around in one fluid motion and began to teach.

The teacher’s movements seemed so effortless; his actions— electrifying; voice—spellbinding.

There was no beep from the class during the entire lesson. The students were caught up in the fast paced action of his teaching. They watched in fascination as he stabbed and slashed at the blackboard with the chalk, whipping-up seemingly intoxicating mathematical symbols and equations from thin air.

The math teacher was the performer; the mesmerized class his spectator.

Not until the bell rang did Carlotta realize she hadn’t grasped a thing out of the lesson.

The math teacher had raced through his lesson in a well-meaning tactic to revise the basic math skills he believed the class should have already acquired. He had breezed through even and odd numbers and the rules of addition and subtraction. After those came multiplication and division. Then types of fractions. Simple proportions. Percentages. Finally, it had come to algebra and the real lesson had commenced.

The math teacher had sauntered out of the class as soon as the bell rang, leaving an awed class behind him. He hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself.

A stunned silence followed the teacher’s departure until someone broke the spell by saying,

“Please, what was his name?”

“Mr. Wesley Iorshimbe-Ngongngong,” another offered.

“Mr. Wesley what?” a different girl quipped.

“Wesley Snipes!” Joyce snapped at the girl. “Kai, are you deaf?”

The girl gave Joyce a reproachful look. “Please allow me oh, the man’s name has k-leg, abeg.”

Another student admonished Joyce. “Yes oh, allow her. I’m sure that even you can’t pronounce the name sef.”

Nelly laughed and shook her head. “Come to think of it, that Mathematics teacher is a real Snipes.” She jumped to her feet, her eyes shinning with mischief. She couldn’t stop laughing. “Wait oh, he even looks like the real Wesley Snipes.” She stopped to catch her breath.

Several girls laughed, too.

That opened the floodgates. In excited tones, the students compared the math teacher’s movements to that of Wesley Snipes’ ingenious stunts in the ‘Blade’ movies. They got so wrapped-up in their stories they lost track of time, until Rosemary the class prefect announced in dismay,

“You girls, it’s time for integrated science, and it says here on the time-table that we are supposed to go to the biology lab for the lesson.”

They were already six minutes late. Lockers were opened and banged as the students reached for their science text and notebooks. In a flash, most of them were out the door.

“Biology lab, Carlotta. Let’s go,” Ossie apprised. She picked up her books, shut her desk with a bang, and ran for the door.

“Hey, wait up!” Carlotta called to Ossie, “I dunno where to find the biology lab!” In a rush, she grabbed a heavy textbook she assumed was for integrated science, and bolted out the door after her classmates.

Coming in February, 2010
Advance copies available till September 28th 2009
Reserve your copy now!

Bend down, shake to the beat...

Whoa people! Let's talk Lagos parties!!!
Imagine the music and the feverish dance-steps! Most of you Lagosians, Nigerians, and lovers of Afro beats know what I'm talking about. Whatever you're doing, wherever you are --whether at home, out in the city, or even totally out in a foreign country-- whenever you hear the beat, you just feel like getting straight down and doing a jig or two. Lol!!!
My favorite is the song my Uncle always starts off his parties with, a song that created so much buzz in 2001/2002, I've been told:

"Pade mi ni sale...!!!!!"

"Aaaaahhhhh Under!!!!!!"

Yeah, that's right. You totally know who I'm talking about. You're already standing in that legendary dancing pose, shoulders back, hips down, butt stuck-out, and backbone set to undulate. You wait for the next cue:

"Le le le le le le le-- le le le le-- le le le le le le..."

The metallic sound of trumpets, then:

"Arege ji ah! Arege ji ah ah...."

"Aaaahhhh, Under!"

Then follows the well-known lyrics accompanied by staccato crazy beats with the Yoruba talking drums.

"Isale ele ele, konko konko..."

"E gbe jo oooo!!!"

"Kon Below! Konko Below!! Kon Below!!! Konko Below!!!!"

"UNDER!!!!!"

I never really figured out if the catch word is "Under" or "Thunder", or both. But the song is quite addictive, I must admit. Can't be totally captured with just words. This here, friends, will require a depicting video.
Just so we're clear, I'm talking of the one and only, Lagbaja, the masked King of the new millennium Afro beats. See link to a you-tube video of his hit song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NpOzwVAQ7M8
Very captivating, huh? I thought so too when I first heard it, even though I couldn't understand a word, except "Below". Lol!!!
To tell the truth, I'd still like to find out what the lyrics mean some time.
Anyways, Lagos parties are something every teenager needs to experience at least once in his/her lifetime.
"What about High-school parties?" You ask, not sure what on earth I'm totally driving at.
Teenage American parties, you mean? Oh puhleease, give me a total break! There just isn't any comparison!!! Those stolen-beer and pizza-driven excuses for a good time totally fade right into the background beside a Lagos street party.
Yeah! That's right! It's not just the colorful attire of the party-goers, the wide-reaching head-ties of the women, the rich agabadas worn by the men, the flashy jewelries, great high-life music, or delicious foods and refreshments supplied as 'item seven.' Lol!!!
To be frank with you, in comparison to what I now know as an 'Owambe party', which is the most common native party in Lagos; prom parties just feel so drab and boring with the punch and pizza--nothing really much to it. Ugh!!!
One thing I noticed about Lagos parties though, you don't really need an exotic venue to pull-off the perfect entertaining scene. Most people just use their compounds and the free spaces behind their homes. However, if you're one of those who live in a flat (apartment) or totally don't have a wide compound, don't sweat it. Just use your street!!!!
"No way!!!" You eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "You mean as in streets where cars commute and everything?" you ask, looking quite incredulous. "Seriously?"
Yep!!! Totally!!! Just wait till it's about 6pm, then measure-out about a two-hundred feet of the street in front of your home-- spanning to the left and right-- and clamp-down some road-block signs at each end. Then scatter around several plastic chairs and tables and position a few bouncers at strategic points to warn and redirect traffic. Mount an intimidating sound system with heavy-duty speakers wired from the inside of your building with plenty of extensions.
Voila!!!
You totally got yourself a party venue. Lol!!!
"You must be kidding me?" You remark, totally blown outta your mind. "A street party, how cool is that?" You think for a coupla minutes, then ask, "What about the cops? Howddya deal with 'em, huh?"
Cops? What cops? The same guys the party host already 'sorted' with a coupla thousand bucks (Naira)?
Naahhh, street parties don't get bothered by no cops, irritated neighbors, or grandparents. The general rule of thumbs for such gatherings is very simple:
If you can't beat 'em; join 'em!!!
Lol!!!
"Wow," you say, totally blown away. "I so wanna spend my summer hols in Lagos.
Now, that's what I'm talking about. Remember, the above also goes for coming-of-age parties, birthdays, school proms, naming ceremonies, bachelor parties, burial wake-keeping, golden-jubilees, after wedding parties, church functions, sports victory, etc, etc. You can basically celebrate anything in Lagos, even your first job, your first car, college graduations or your house opening. These parties bring the body and soul of the city together in perfect harmony. And you wanna know something cool?
Everyone is totally invited. In effect, a second home for street parties are:
M'ogbo, mo branch!
Indirect translation: I heard the music, I totally invited myself. And all my hommies.
"Yeah right!!!" You roll your eyes. "The more the merrier, huh?"
Yep!!! That's exactly what I'm talking about! All ya party rats outta 'ere, please join me:

E gbe jo o!!! 

Lotta Luv,

Carlotta

Get a copy of the "Feddie Girl" novel by Nona David on Amazon.com or from the publisher https://bernardbooks.com

To buy this novel in Nigeria, please contact our sales agents:

LAGOS = 08023226389, 08023002049, 08098012049
ABUJA/JOS/KADUNA = 08066370106
PORT-HARCOURT/OWERRI/ABA = 08037974482
ENUGU/NSUKKA/ONITSHA = 08030908351

Also available at the following Nigerian Bookstores:
1. Goodlife.com/ng
2. Walahi.com