Release Day!!
The day is finally here! The 3rd book in the Valespian Pact series is here. All 253,000 words, 932 pages, and 20-22 hours of reading time! It is an epic, EPIC space opera that took me two years to write. I'm so relieved it is out ob my hands so I'll quite scrutinizing it! I hope you enjoy my labor of love.
Also, do not forget that you can get Alpha Trine and Stiker for $0.99 until March 23rd (at the very least. I'm thinking about extending the sale.)
Alpha Trine
Striker
Can a Warlord and a Prince find love when
the galaxy is on the brink of war?
Chief Warlord Sohm'lan has a job he loves
protecting the family who claims him as one of their own. He has known the loss
of a mate and believed he would walk alone for the rest of his life… that is
until Prince Mestor demanded more from him than duty. Unable to fathom why
Mestor would want a widowed older warrior, Sohm'lan maintains his distance believing
Mestor will eventually choose an amor closer in age and experience, even though
the thought causes him more pain than it should.
Prince Mestor is tired of pretending and
his patience is eroding. He needs Sohm'lan to see past their respective ranks
and duties to who Mestor is underneath it all. Worried Sohm'lan will be lost to
him if he pushes too hard, Mestor and Sohm'lan are caught in a dance of denied
desires and tangled obligations.
Warlord Sohm'lan and Prince Mestor
struggle to find a way to their heart's desire against the backdrop of galactic
conspiracies, the dangerous mission escorting the Fal'Amoric royals, and
discoveries within the Vondorian family that threaten to tear apart everything
they hold dear. The two of them stand together to fight the coming battle
whatever the consequences.
Excerpt
Ariafella
gave a long sigh and slumped elegantly in the high-back chair.
“What
troubles you?” Ashari crossed to the table and took the seat next to her. The
news that Zeus was kidnapped from the Imperial Space Station Bashker’Qa had distressed
them both. A couple days ago, Azaes sent her an update that relayed Zeus had
been found and was safe. Not wanting to be overheard by anyone listening in,
Azaes told her with the language of the hands about the Fal’Amoric. They were
not returning home until after they escorted the royal family to Valespia. As
relieved as she was that her sons were safe, she sensed there was more to the
situation, and that had been on her mind since their last communication. She
assumed that Ariafella’s thoughts were similar, but Ariafella’s concerns were
closer to home.
“The
head of House Cordyl is vile.” As if realizing what she had said aloud,
Ariafella quickly glanced at the door. When she saw it was closed, she slouched
even farther in her relief. Anyone who wanted to enter would knock first.
“He
is not the most pleasant bull to be around,” Ashari replied, alert to Ariafella’s
changing mood. “Has he done or said anything to you?”
“Oh,
no, nothing like that. His two youngest recently finished classes at the Academy
and did not come home after graduation, nor have they contacted him. Timsah
made a scene at market yesterday, insistent that Rathmar knows where they are. I
do not understand. Rathmar is almost as large as Sohm’lan, and yet he refuses
to defend himself against Timsah.” She hissed her frustration but did not
interrupt Ariafella. “Azaes does not approve of our friendship, but Rath and
Zeus are the only real friends I have. I do not know what happened between those
two, no one will tell me, and as far as I am concerned if Azaes and Mestor
cannot say why they revile Zeus’s best friend… well, I am not going to cut
Rathmar out of my life just because Azaes says so. And Rathmar!” Ariafella
threw the colored blocks of silk into the carved, wooden box. “He is no better
than Mestor or Azaes, carrying guilt around and refusing to confide in me. I
want to help him get out from under his father’s abuse and away from those vile
people who make up House Cordyl. I know he has been waiting for his youngest
siblings to leave. And now that it seems that they have… why is he still there?
I do not understand why he would stay in that abusive situation.”
Ashari
looked away, her own guilt eating at her. It was time for these… secrets
around Rathmar to be revealed. The next time she contacted Valdor she would
insist that they finally speak to Zeus, Ariafella, Azaes, and Mestor about Zeus’s
childhood friend.
Ariafella
continued her rant, not noticing Ashari’s remorse. “We were together when I
received the message about Zeus being kidnapped by pirates from the space
station. I thought he was going to pass out from shock and worry. As soon as
Zeus comes home, I am going to make them sit down and resolve this issue
between them. It has gone on long enough,” Ariafella vowed emphatically.
Ashari
frowned. Did Ariafella pass on the information that Zeus had been found and
unharmed to Rathmar?
“The
outcome of that confrontation might not be what you want it to be,” Ashari
cautioned, wanting to confide in her future daughter but for various reasons
she held her tongue. Soon, she promised herself, soon she and Valdor would shed
themselves of this Crown secret. Though, she would do what she could to smooth
over the rough edges between her son and his friend. She and Valdor were
responsible for not squashing Zeus’s perception of that event five summers ago.
At the time, they had believed their caution warranted.
Ariafella’s
large, red eyes blinked several times as if she fought strong emotions. “I know
that, but I am hoping for the best. With Rathmar distancing himself and Zeus
gone, I have been so lonely. Azaes is taking on more and more responsibility
from his father and Mestor is always at his side. How do you do it, Ashari? Do
you not thirst for friends or companionship? Do you ever get lonely?”
“Of
course,” Ashari agreed, knowing Ariafella’s ache all too well. “All my younglinghood
friends are on the other side of the continent and we grew apart over time, but
I had my young and their antics. Valdor and I learned how to make quality time
for each other. I have every confidence you will have better success. You have
traveled extensively with your father and are much more outgoing than I ever
was at your age. You will find a balance. I also think you will feel better
once Zeus returns home.”
Ariafella
nodded, not looking as if she agreed. “I think I am going to go for a swim.
Want to come?”
“Let
me wrap up a couple things and I will meet you there.” Ashari watched her
leave, Ariafella’s gold-trimmed white robes billowing behind her in her haste.
Ashari
sighed heavily. Being the empress of Atlainticia was never easy. Throughout the
summers, she and Valdor had kept things from their young. Sometimes, it was
because they were simply too young. But the secret they’d kept these last five summers
had been the hardest. At the time they had made the decision, it seemed the
best course of action for all involved. They were wrong. They should have
brought Azaes and Mestor into their confidence four summers ago, but her sons
were not the best at hiding their emotions. There was the concern that they
would give away everything when they lost their temper with certain people. It
was best that the twins unknowingly kept up a ruse that Valdor had set into
place acting as the Crown and had decided what was best for Atlainticia as a
whole. Over the intervening time, the twins had become better at masking their
emotions, but Valdor refused to wager the lives and welfare of others on their
young’s dubious ability to keep their thoughts to themselves. She would be glad
when this nasty business with House Cordyl was complete and she could speak to her
sons openly about everything.
Sighing
again, Ashari cleaned the room, locking away the samples and design plans.
Foregoing the change into her swimming robe, she decided to keep Ariafella
company and stay out of the water. She was in no mood to swim.
Walking
through the palace, her red-trimmed, golden robes whirled about her. She passed
the artisan in the fountain atrium who was carving the tribute to Valdor’s prosperous
rule over Atlainticia. As far as her spies had been able to uncover, the people
were confident in Azaes and looking forward to Valdor passing the throne to his
eldest youngling. Not that Valdor would not be missed, but no one expected an emperor
or empress to sit on Atlainticia’s throne their whole life. The step-down was a
wise tradition, passing rulership to the next generation as they entered their
prime.
When
she flicked her tongue out and tasted the air, a sickly-sweet pheromone stuck
to her taste buds. She knew that scent and searched the crowd, looking for and
finding Timsah Gadrius. He stood across the room amidst the crowd from
like-minded houses. His flat u-shaped snout was curved in a mockery of a smile
while his bulbous amber eyes revealed his haughty disdain. She signaled the
closest Basilisc guard, commanding them to keep their eyes on the group. If
Timsah was in the palace, then her informant was as well.
She
slowed her pace, waiting for their mole in House Cordyl to come to her. He
always did when Timsah lurked on the grounds. And sure enough, before she
exited the building to descend to the palace’s private beach, he was there
waiting in the shadows. Ashari signaled for the guards to divert people away
from the hallway leading to the exit. She did not need anyone witnessing her speaking
with the young bull.
“Good
day, Empress.”
It
pained her to hear that damaged, raspy voice. The wounds he sustained on that
long-ago day had healed but he had been left with many scars. She was still
upset with herself for not taking him in from the very beginning. But he had
insisted on being of service to House Vondorian and the throne. Soon that service
would come to an end, and he could rest, free to live the life he wanted for
himself.
“Rathmar,
son, why do I scent fresh blood on you?” she asked quietly.
“The
usual. He was displeased that Creon and Damae were not on the transport from
the Academy. He believes I know where they are hiding.” Rathmar pushed back the
hood of his dark robes, revealing his bruised and battered face. His lips were
split all the way to his chin, the skin and azure scales were being held
together by medical tape. Surely speaking had to hurt. “It will be the last
time he lays his hands on me. I am leaving town, but I wanted to stop and warn
you he is looking to acquire passage to Valespia. He is going to take his ‘evidence’
against the throne—” He sneered. They both knew that the so-called evidence was
contrived. “—to the Galactic Imperials.”
She
frowned. They had not foreseen how Timsah would attempt to subvert Valdor’s
authority, but that was no matter. She would see what she could do to delay Timsah’s
trip.
“I
also wanted to say goodbye.”
Rathmar
had no desire to live in Thrace after his work was done. But she had hoped… “Did
you hear that Zeus was not kidnapped but is helping a group of Fal’Amoric
return to Valespia? He will be home soon.”
Rathmar
was shaking his head before she even finished her statement. “He will never
want to see me again. I made him believe terrible things… it does not matter.
What was once between us can never be put back together.”
She
pursed her lips. She would not argue, understanding that Zeus and Rathmar would
never again be lovers, but at one time, they had been the best of friends.
Surely something of that relationship could be salvaged. She refused to give up
on them. “Are you going to say goodbye to Ariafella?”
He
looked over his shoulder to where Ariafella swam, his expression pensive. “I
should not.”
She
smiled, knowing he would at least speak to Ariafella before he left the city.
“If
you have need of me, for anything,” Rathmar continued. “Whirlwind will know
where to find me.”
Ashari
embraced him, not letting him go when he squirmed. “You will always be one of
mine and have a home with us. Never doubt that. Your siblings are safe at my
family’s vineyard. Timsah will not think to look for them there. They have a
room for you as well, if you wanted to join your siblings.”
“Thank
you for everything you have done for me,” he rasped, not answering her question.
Her
heart squeezed. They should have done something more for him. “It was never
enough.”
“You
saved our lives, that was plenty. The rest was up to us,” he reassured, his
arms finally clenching around her. She would always disagree.
“Go
to the infirmary and have your wounds tended. I will send Ariafella to you.”
He
looked as if he would argue, but she put on her best ‘do not argue with Meme’
face, and he relented with a sheepish grin flirting at the edges of his wounded
lips. Before she exited the palace, she signaled the guards to follow and keep
him safe.
When
Ashari stepped out onto the balcony, the sun was a hot ball of flame at the
apex of the sky. Below was the sandy beach only used by people the Crown gave
permission to, which was only a handful outside of those who permanently
resided at the palace. Two banister-less balconies overlooked the private inlet,
perfect platforms for diving if one did not wish to descend three flights of
stairs. She stood on the top-most one looking down into the clear turquoise inlet.
The drop-off started only one and a half meters from the shore, where the water
turned a deeper blue. The waves were calm, the area protected by the carefully
crafted surf walls farther out in deeper Waters.
She
walked to the edge, planning to get Ariafella’s attention and send her after
Rathmar. The smell off the ocean was strong, the wind causing her robes to snap
around her legs. Ariafella was not the only one swimming. Next to her was
someone Ashari could not identify, their yellow and green coloring was so
different from what she was used to seeing on a Mar’Sani. She frowned down at
them, immediately knowing the being had not been inside the palace. Their
presence would have caused too much talk. The longer she stared, the more she
was filled aby an uncanny certainty that she knew the person. But where had she
met this person?
Ariafella
suddenly swam to the shore and bypassed her swimming robe to sprint up the
stairs. Puzzled, Ashari hurriedly descended to meet her on the second-floor
balcony. Her future daughter’s eyes were wide, and her hands trembled as she
held out a small, shell-encrusted scroll.
“He
said not to go down to the beach. He would leave right away if you descended
the last flight of stairs,” Ariafella said in a rush.
“I
do not understand. Who is it?”
Ariafella’s
eyes turned liquid as if she wanted to cry. “Just… do as he says. Read the
scroll. He said you could go to the edge of the balcony and look out, but do
not enter the water. His farsight has warned him there would be dire consequences
if you did.”
Ashari
was well acquainted with the trickiness of farsight. Though now she was
curious, and her body hummed as if… as if… oh, Poseidon help her. With
trembling hands, Ashari tore open the scroll case and upon seeing the very
first word she crumpled to her knees.
Meme.
Tears
clouded her vision. She was thrust backward in time to that terrible day when
her littlest youngling went missing. She knew this hum in her body, this
awareness of the tether between her and her young. They were all a great
distance away, her tie to them stretched and quiet. The hum would only be
persistent if one was close. Did she dare hope? After all these summers would
she be granted such a wonderful boon?
Hurriedly
wiping at her face, she gave a reassuring smile. Ariafella looked scared. “Should
I have sent him away?”
Ashari
clutched her hand. “No, my darling. You did nothing wrong. It was just a shock.
Give me a moment.”
Taking
a fortifying breath, she smoothed out the sheet she had accidentally crumpled
in her hand.
Thank you for stopping by and reading!!
