New Release - The Protector

The Protector

by Diane Burton

Amazon ~ Kobo ~ Smashwords ~ iTunes ~ B&N

Genre: Science Fiction Romance

Release Date: July 24, 2015
Length: 370 Pages

It's finally here! After nine months, my "baby" is ready to meet the public. Of all the books I've written, The Protector was the hardest, the most emotional for me as a mother. I had to dig deep to image how a mother would feel upon losing her child. Not to miscarriage, which is difficult enough, but to kidnappers. Even years later, how would that mother feel? What would she have to do in order to cope? Although only a mother who has experienced this tragedy would know, I hope I've conveyed her emotions well.

Blurb:

After tavern owner Rissa Dix rescues two girls from a slave ship, she must rally the townsfolk to prevent traffickers from raiding the frontier colony. She’s met with apathy and disbelief. Because she lost her own baby to traffickers, she’s determined that no other mother will suffer the same heartache. Industrialist heir Dillan Rusteran aids her in rescuing more children. Little do they know they’re about to tangle with a trafficking ring that puts Rissa in danger. Dillan’s loved her for years despite her claim she’s too old for him. As they fight the traffickers, will she finally see him in a new light?

Excerpt:

Fortuna hurried into the kitchen. “To what do I owe this honor?” The pleasure house owner laughed. “Finally going to take me up on my offer to sample my newest provider? He’s absolutely delish. And what stamina.”

Though her cheeks flamed, Rissa brushed aside the offer then quickly explained her need for small clothing.

“Slavers?” Fortuna screwed up her face in disgust. “I heard rumors of disappearances in cities like Rhadaman but not in the colonies.”

“About the clothes?” Rissa needed to return before the girls decided to explore. Or, worse, leave.

Fortuna led her up the back stairs to the sleeping quarters. “SeeMee isn’t working right now. She’s the smallest.”

A few mins later, Rissa had a bundle of clothing from the generous SeeMee who was only too happy to help the escapees. “I chose this life,” the tiny pleasure worker explained. “Nobody should be forced into it.”

And that, Rissa thought, made the difference between pleasure houses and prostis. Choice. She had to make sure those girls bathing in her sanitary could make their own choices.

“The other girl is taller than you,” Rissa said to Fortuna. “About this high.” She leveled her hand near her own shoulder.

Fortuna nodded. “Wait here. Don’t want to interrupt anything.” She grinned.

When she returned to the tavern with the clothes, Rissa found the girls wearing what she’d left them. Her shirt hung almost to Anaris’ ankles. On Pela, it reached her knees. They’d been sitting on her settee, Pela brushing Anaris’ hair. They jumped up when Rissa came in.

Both eyed her warily.

Pela broke the silence. “What are you going to do with us?”

Rissa sat on the end of her bed across from them. “I can find transport so you can return home.”

“No.” Pela’s sharp response surprised her. “I won’t go back.”

Anaris looked even more frightened. “Please don’t,” she whimpered.

With delicate probing, Rissa got their stories. Both girls had been sold by their fathers to the traffickers. Her heart twisted for them. How could a parent not appreciate the gift of life given to them? To sell their flesh and blood was unconscionable.

Rissa reined in her anger. “You have a choice where to go, what to do. Nobody will force you. Now try on these clothes, and when you’re ready come down to the kitchen.”

Pela stood in front of Rissa. “Why are you helping us? What’s in it for you?”

“Repentance.”

The Protector is available at:  Amazon ~ Kobo ~ Smashwords 

This week, I'll be at other blogs with different excerpts. I hope you'll stop by.

Today (Monday): Jessica Subject  

Wednesday:  Linda Carroll-Brad

                     Elizabeth Meyette

Thursday: Liza O'Connor  

                 Roses of Prose

Saturday Sampler: A Matter of Trust by Greta van der Rol #giveaway

Genre: Romantic Science Fiction

Release Date: April 11, 2014

Length: 94 Pages

 

Will the Demon Admiral protect her from her family? Princess Amira is ready to start a new life after the death of her husband, but that doesn’t include marrying the man her father picks out for her. Pursued by his agents, she races across the galaxy in a desperate search for a safe haven. Amid simmering tensions at the edge of the Empire, Amira renews her acquaintance with Imperial Admiral Ul-Mellor. Although his detractors call him the Demon Admiral, Amira finds him intelligent, articulate, and very attractive.

But Ul-Mellor is not human and Amira is a princess – far above Ul-Mellor’s status on his home world. He and Amira will have to overcome a gulf of cultural and class differences if they’re to turn their mutual attraction into a relationship. And what will Ul-Mellor do when faced with a choice – Amira or his hard-won commission?

Excerpt:

Amira strode across the ornate polished stone floor of her father’s private sitting room and into his study. “You wanted to see me, Father?”

Prince Fedor Hezkurin looked up from the paperwork on his desk and scowled, his gaze flicking over her. “Amira, my dear, I wish you wouldn’t wear those peasant clothes. They don’t become you.”

“They’re very practical for my work with the Tuchaska.” She pulled off the clasp that tied back her ponytail and shook her head, sending her hair dancing around her shoulders.

Hezkurin sighed. “That doesn’t become you either. You should not be wasting your time with aliens.”
Amira pulled over a chair and sat facing him. Yes, she probably did need a shower, and a change of clothes, too. Her boots had probably left a trail over her father’s floor. But she wasn’t going to apologize. “It was their planet before we took it over.”

“Yes, my dear and we’ve been the rulers for two hundred years.”

“They provide the labor for your estates. If somebody doesn’t help them you won’t have a labor force at all.” They’d had this discussion before. He didn’t care about mysterious illnesses that only affected the Tuchaska. As far as he was concerned there were enough of them to get the work done. Without her intervention their physician wouldn’t have been able to obtain sufficient drugs to treat the sick. Today she’d helped the doctor move two patients from their home to his clinic.

He nodded absently.

Her fingers beat a staccato tattoo on the arm of the chair. He was up to something. She could always tell. His eyes became shifty, darting around, and he fiddled with the objects on his desk. “Well?”

Prince Fedor shifted the picture of his wife one more time and took a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to Baron Ghaurondo.”

Ghaurondo? Big fat, ugly, loathsome Ghaurondo. She cocked an eyebrow. “How nice for you.”

“He’s a very powerful man, Amira.”

“Only in the Arondean Hegemony.”

Her father frowned. “Which is ten systems and where we live.”

“Yes, fine.” Amira crossed her legs and folded her arms. Her heart beat a little faster. This wasn’t
sounding good. “So what?”

The Prince scratched absently at his neck above the ornate collar of his uniform. Goodness, that was a very bad sign. This wasn’t going to be good at all.

“As you know, we’ve not had the best of seasons. And we’re very dependent on the Arondean Hegemony… to buy our harvest, anyway. They’ve found other places to supply their agricultural products.” Fedor paused and licked his lips.

“What has that to do with me, father?”

“Baron Ghaurondo has always admired you.”

“Him and a few others.” Her pulse galloped. She had an idea she knew where this was going.

“He’s asked for your hand.”

“Sorry, I need both of mine.” She wished this was some sort of ridiculous joke. Or maybe she’d wake up in her own bed. “Father, you can’t be serious. He’s a bag of fat on legs. He’s got body odor.”

“Amira, darling, don’t make this difficult. It’s time you married again. He’s rich and powerful—”

“He’s twice my age and disgusting. No.” Anger boiled in her belly. So he thought he could order her about like a teenager, did he? She should never have come back here. “And why do I have to marry again anyway?”

“Christoph’s been dead for a year now and you’re not getting any younger.”

“Don’t give me the grandchildren story. I don’t want to hear it.” She stared at him, a horrible thought insinuating itself into her mind. He couldn’t mean…? Surely not. But his face was composed, the sort of look her father gave his estate manager when he’d made up his mind. “Oh, how obscene. With that… that…”

“Look at it from the family’s point of view, darling. It’s a strategic alliance. In the short term, Baron Ghaurondo can guarantee sale of our harvest. Without that, we’re in for a very hard time.”

“So you’re selling me to keep your economy going.”

“No. In the longer term, we become part of a powerful family that will secure our future here. You would be mother of the future Baron.”

Amira’s lip curled in disgust. “Oh, please, father. Ghaurondo already has a gaggle of sons.”

“He has promised your son will become—”

“So you’re selling me to gain political advantage. You disgust me.” At least he had the decency to squirm.

“No.” He scratched his neck again. “Look at the positives. Ghaurondo can give you anything you want. Jewels, clothes, finery, antiques.” He made an expansive gesture with his arm. “Anything at all.”

“He has nothing I want.”

The prince cleared his throat. “I’ve agreed, Amira. Baron Ghaurondo will be here tomorrow to collect his betrothed.”

Her heart lurched. Tomorrow. The bastard. “You didn’t think it might have been nice to discuss your plans for my life with me?” She jabbed her finger at her chest.

He leaned back in his chair, his fists on the desk, his gaze fixed on her face. “I knew what you’d say. But sometimes I have to think about more than just my immediate family’s interests.”

This was beyond acceptable. He might have sired her but contempt for him rose like bile in her throat. She rose to her feet and leaned over the desk at him. “You can’t do this. I’m thirty-six years old, not some naïve teenager to force into a strategic union.”

He flinched, but his jaw set. “I’ve given my word. It will be done.”

Amira shook her head slowly. “I’ve not given mine.” You contemptible bastard. She spun on her heel and strode toward the door, her boots ringing on the stone.

Her father’s sigh followed her. “I had hoped it would not come to this but you leave me no choice.”

The door opened. Six of the palace security guard waited outside.

Amira turned to her father, who stood behind his desk in his general’s pose: back straight and in command. He didn’t look at her, directing his attention at the armed men. “Escort Princess Amira to her apartments. She is not to leave without my express permission.”

Amira glowered at her father. Right now contempt wasn’t a good enough word. She despised him. “Do you think my mother would have approved of this?”

He looked at her then, a swift glance filled with sorrow before he said to the squad commander, “Take her away.”

“I despise you.” She marched off, flanked by the guards.

 
Buy Links: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Payhip

About the Author:

 
Greta van der Rol loves writing action-packed adventures with a side salad of romance. Most of her work is space opera, but she has written paranormal and historical fiction. She lives not far from the coast in Queensland, Australia and enjoys photography and cooking when she isn’t bent over the computer. She has a degree in history and a background in building information systems, both of which go a long way toward helping her in her writing endeavours.

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