Death and I by Lola Ovayoza

Some names should never be spoken. Some souls should never return.
When Moni visits her grandfather’s eerie home in a forgotten town, she accidentally opens a door she can’t close - summoning Death himself. But this isn’t the hooded figure from bedtime tales. He’s charming, ageless, and terrifyingly familiar.
Caught in a centuries-old curse and a twisted love that transcends lifetimes, Moni must sacrifice someone she loves, or surrender herself to the very thing she fears most.
In this dark, seductive novelette, Death and I ask - what if the scariest part of dying… is remembering why you keep coming back?

I want to share a brief story about my debut book, Death and I. I will also tell you how the idea came to me.

The first edition of Death and I was written in February 2023. And because it was written in February—yes, that February—it carries a hint of romance.

I wrote the book in just two weeks, after four long years of writer’s block and a deep reading slump. Before I go any further, I think it’s important to share a quick backstory because that block didn’t come out of nowhere.

I joined Wattpad in 2018. A friend told me about the app at the time—I don’t even remember who that person is anymore; we don’t talk now. Before Wattpad, I read on Worldreader through Opera Mini. I read a lot of Ruby Yayra’s book on there. When I made the switch, I read constantly. I read a lot of books. I came across many authors. I read horrors like Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board. I read books like Two Gangs and a Golden Girl by Holly Shmit, After and many others.

One day, I came across a book called In 27 Days by Alison Gervais (Honorintherain). I have always been drawn to supernatural stories, both fiction and non-fiction, and that book stayed with me. It was the first time the idea of Death and I crossed my mind. It wasn’t deep at all, but I just knew I wanted to write something like that.

In 2019, my family’s house was robbed. The trauma from that experience affected me deeply, and a lot changed afterwards. That was when the writer’s block began. Then COVID happened, and everything felt heavier. I had school issues to deal with, life kept moving, and somehow, years passed. I couldn’t pick up a pen anymore.

I stopped writing in 2019. One, because I had lost my gadgets to the robbery. And two, due to the trauma, ideas stopped coming. After a while, I began to feel like the gift itself was fading, like it was something I was going to lose completely. Eventually, I took down the books I had on Wattpad, and it felt like that chapter of my life had closed. Even though deep down, I knew that I would pick it up in future, probably when I’m more settled in life.

Cover design for first edition (2023)

Then, in late 2022 or maybe early 2023, I’m not sure, but it was between November 2022 and January 2023. I was on set for a monologue shoot. At the time, I worked behind the scenes on shoots as a mobile videographer. The actress we were filming was having a conversation with the devil, and between them sat a chessboard. If you’ve read the book, the chessboard Idea came from the shoot.

Watching that scene brought some ideas. The idea I’d first encountered years earlier—when I read In 27 Days—came back to me, but more refined. It had evolved. This time, it wasn’t about Death as a concept or a character in a story I admired. It became a question directed inward: If I were given the chance to have a conversation with Death, what would we talk about?
Because, truthfully, I have a lot of questions.

Besides all of these, I remember when my great-grandmother died. We had just returned from school, and we sat with her in the room, but she was sleeping. She had been sleeping before we left for school. While we were in the room with her, she told us to excuse her because we were interrupting her conversation with the people she was talking to.

Mind you, she was in the room with just us; there were no adults there. Just my siblings and I. It didn’t make sense to me at the time. I didn’t see who she was talking to. Over the years, I got to understand. I’ve heard people talk about how people know when they want to die. Because death comes to tell them. And that played out in chapter two of the book, when Death tells Moni who he is, and she laughs. That moment is a theatrical representation. It illustrates how Death comes to tell people when they are about to die.

The conversation between Death and Moni—where he explains that he doesn’t kill people—is significant for readers of the book. This conversation comes from a common Yoruba adage. It reflects the belief that death is not always a direct act. Instead, it happens as a consequence of excess. This includes too much joy, too much excitement, or too much of anything.

From my understanding and research, I do a lot of research when I write; death often arrives indirectly. For example, something good happens, joy overflows, and in that excitement, a person makes choices they wouldn’t otherwise make. They go out to celebrate, drink too much, decide to drive anyway, and an accident happens. Death did not kill them; circumstance did. Now, this is just an example to buttress the common adage I highlighted and to explain what I meant. This is not to say that this is always the case.

Death is not always the executioner. Sometimes, Death is the witness. This idea sits at the heart of Death and I. I am not a death expert. Everything I wrote in Death and I is drawn from what I have read over the years. It is also from what I have heard, seen, and experienced. Furthermore, it includes what I have watched. Every story, every belief, every memory, and every question found its way into the book. And all of it came together to become Death and I.

I finished writing Death and I in just six days in 2023. By March/April, I put it up for sale on Selar. I had edited it like seven times, and this took me about a week. Asherkine was one of the people who reposted it. He bought a few copies. He distributed them to members of his community as a giveaway. This gesture meant more to me than he probably knew.

The book stayed on Selar for a while. Eventually, I took it down—not because it was bad, but because I didn’t feel it was good enough. After four years of not writing or reading anything, I felt disconnected from my craft. I knew I needed time—time to read again, time to learn again, to understand my voice more deeply. And before I decided to take the book down, I had plans to publish it in paperback. I had paid for the ISBN, gotten it and started making enquiries on publishing.

Two years later, in March 2025, I returned to Death and I. I had slowly started reading again. I finished one book in two months. This was different from the one book in two days like I used to. In March, I rewrote the book, this time with a renewed sense of purpose. I had more, or should I say better, understanding of what I wanted to pass across.

Cover design for new edition (2025)

I decided to take it further, moving from Selar to Amazon. I had no one to guide me, so I leaned on Google searches and YouTube tutorials, learning as I went. It was during this process that I discovered the ISBN I had bought in 2023 was fake. I had to start the entire process over and got a new one all by myself.

Death and I is a short story. This is not because that's where the idea ends. I actually wrote a prequel of about 80,000 words. I have the sequel outlined. I just don't think it's ready for the world yet, which is why I haven't shared much about it. It’s a short story because it was the first book I wrote after a long break. It was the story I chose to test the waters with. I wanted to see how the world would receive my work. I also wanted to see if I could reconnect with my voice after years of silence. I did send the book to some publishers. Some didn’t reply. Others said it was too short, and I have to make it longer.

Some people who have read it had texted me. They let me know it could have been longer because they wanted more. That is a good thing, considering that was the first book they’d read by me. But when I read messages like that, I laugh because I know why the book is short. I wanted to give more, but that was all I had at the time.

People often see the title and assume the book is about suicide or about people dying. It’s not. I understand how frightening the idea of Death can be. But as Marie Curie once said, “Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood. Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.”

Death and I is about understanding. It is about asking questions. It is also about seeing Death not as something to fear, but as something to explore. 

If you haven’t read Death and I, get the Paperback here: Amazon, Selar, Book Peddler, Paperback Plug
Get Ebook here: Selar, Kindle, Kobo

As someone who loves listening to music—especially while I write—I actually curated a mini playlist for Death and I. I never shared it before because, honestly, the songs were a little too scary. But I’ll put it here for you, just in case you have the chest to carry it. Find the playlist on Spotify

If you’ve read the book, please do not hesitate to leave a review on Goodreads, Storygraph

This book isn’t here to scare you. It’s here to talk. It’s simply a question I finally allowed myself to ask. So, if you ever get the chance to pick it up, I want you to read it with an open mind. I hope you read it slowly. With curiosity. And maybe with a little less fear.