by Joey Anderle
CONTENTS
Dedication
Legal
Social Links
Series List
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Author Notes
DEDICATION
To Family, Friends, Teachers, and
Those Who Love
To Read.
Her Royal Runner
Courier Chronicles Crew
Beta Editor / Readers
Dorene Johnson (US Navy (Ret) & DD)
Diane Velasquez (Chinchilla lady & DD)
JIT Beta Readers
Johann L. Tonkin
If I missed anyone, please let me know!
Her Royal Runner (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright (c) 2016 Joseph N. Anderle
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
Version 1.0
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I don’t know much, but I’m confident with the awesome efforts from my beta editors to artists to say you’re going to enjoy what else we have in store.
Thanks for reading!
Joey Anderle - December 29, 2016.
The Courier Chronicles
Series Titles Include:
Her Royal Runner
The Courier Chronicles book 00
Freelancers Folly
The Courier Chronicles book 01
(Should be first quarter, please see Facebook page for details)
Messengers Menagerie
The Courier Chronicles book 02 - TBD
Affluent Affiliations
The Courier Chronicles book 03 - TBD
CHAPTER ONE
A young brown haired, brown eyed man rocked lightly on the back legs of his chair as he stared intently at his hand of cards. Sitting across from him was a man of nondescript age with his forearms resting on the wooden table top, lightly stroking his chin with one hand as he gazed at his cards in his other to the sound of a crackling fireplace.
The young man, teetering on his chair, finally broke the silence, “Alphonse, I don’t think she’s going to make it.”
The man replied while looking at his cards, “All it takes is a little patience, Booker.”
The duo sat at a round table playing a debatably friendly game of cards, the room lit and warmed by the fire logs.
“She was supposed to be here over an hour ago, the only reason I’m still here is because I’m not done winning at rummy.” Booker laid down his card, netting him enough points to surpass Alphonse
“Not done implies that you were winning to start with.” The Elf laid down his entire hand. Garnering more than enough points to topple the young man, “Rummy,” he said. Alphonse, with a smirk on his face as he watched the emotions on the teen’s face, leaned back as Booker sighed in defeat.
“Best four out of seven?” Booker offered while shuffling the cards back together.
However, the youth's dreams of making a four-win comeback were dashed when a knock echoed from the front door
“Afraid not, sounds like that might be her.” Alphonse pulled his chair back and started toward the door with his friend only a few steps behind.
Alphonse opened his door and found nothing but the dark clearing in front of his abode. Leaning out to scan the area to make sure. He mumbled, “I know I heard something.” Reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone and turn on the flashlight. “I have been waiting just as long as you have Booker so you can quit your tapping,” he grumped at the young man’s impatience.
A breeze came through the window, giving the Elf a chill.
He took a few steps outside to make sure no one was there. Frustrated, he called back over his shoulder to Booker, “I told you to close the windows, what's the point of a fireplace if you keep all the windows open?”
“I did… azzhole.” An oxygen deprived Booker answered him.
The older Elf replied, “Watch your tongue. You’re barely old enough to drive and quit your childishness. Don’t hold your breath because you hate the scent of pine.”
The tapping became more incessant before Alphonse finally turned around and asked in frustration, “WHAT IS IT STERLING? … oh.” Looking back to see Booker on the ground, in a headlock. He was in the hands of a smaller woman, obscured in dark clothing.
“Al-Fonz, heelllp…meee…” Booker pleaded as he gasped for air to finish his sentence, “…Azzhoollee!” he finished, tapping with each syllable to make his point.
Alphonse shook his head and stuck an arm back to close the door. “Nice to see you let yourself in, Princess Auralee.” He offered a nod in greeting to her while ignoring Booker.
The intruder loosened her grip, watching as Alphonse leaned forward and motioned with his arms she should continue releasing the youth.
“Th-thanks.” Booker got out between gasps for air and coughs, “Not you, though.” Booker clarified with an accusatory finger pointed at Auralee.
She shrugged.
“Evil woman,” he cursed at her, rubbing his neck.
Alphonse sighed as he watched Booker slowly crawl away toward a wall to recover while Auralee looked around. No doubt planning her escape routes. “Your Royal Highness, Princess Auralee, I present you,” he pointed to the young man, ”Sterling Booker Wells.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Alphonse let me get this straight,” Booker clasped his hands together as Alphonse passed around drinks, “Your Royalty knows kung-fu?”
Alphonse sighed, seeing a long trail of explaining in front of him.
“What is ‘kung-fu?” Aura questioned Alphonse.
“You know, the ninja attack,” Booker answered.
Her eyes squinted at the phrase ‘ninja.’
“And said Princess doesn’t go outside,” Booker pressed.
Alphonse finally joined in the conversation between the two youth, “I don’t think now is the time…”
Booker interrupted, “No wait, I don’t go outside, and I’m ‘lazy’ and ‘not going to achieve anything.'” He pointed to the young woman, “She doesn’t go outside, and she’s ‘Her Royal High-.” A knife suddenly appeared on the table in front of Auralee and Booker cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down, “Her Royal Princess.” Nodding, he leaned his chair back to escape her annoyed gaze.
“Anyhow,” Alphonse tried once more, “Normally no, our royalty is similar to your common concepts, Princess Auralee…”
“Aura, Alphonse, please,” Auralee asked.
“Aura,” Alphonse continued, slowly growing tired of the interruptions, ”is the youngest of five, so her duties as a member of the family are simply marriage at best.”
“Alright, kinda sucks, but that doesn’t explain the ninja bit,” Booker responded.
“All in due time, but right now there are more in important matters to discuss.” Alphonse turned back around to Auralee, “Aura,meet your new driver and bodyguard.” His arm was presenting the youngling like Vanna White showing a Wheel of Fortune puzzle.
“Hold on what?” Booker’s front chair legs slammed ont
o the ground as he leaned forward looking between the two trying to put his sentence together, “Wait, what?” He pointed to the princess, “She can probably kick my ass eleven times out of ten, how am I going to be her bodyguard?”
Auralee seemed to nod in understanding, which only served to confuse Booker even more.
“You just tried to choke me,” He addressed to Auralee, “And I can hold my own in a fight, thank you very much.” Booker addressed Alphonse before he could ask.
“Tried seems to be an understatement, but what do I know, I only saw it.” Alphonse reminded the young man.
“Ha ha Alphonse, eat a dick.” Booker returned.
Alphonse cackled to himself as Booker stewed. Wiping a tear of humor from his eye, Alphonse asked, “Sterling, ever heard of a coup d’état?”
“Yeah, the place down on 5th street, Coup de Taco.” Booker nodded in agreement while Alphonse’s face slowly twisted in confusion.
Alphonse, his head shaking and eyes narrowed, replied, “What? No, coup d’état, the French term for overthrowing a sovereign state.”
Auralee turned questioningly toward Alphonse, her head pointing towards Booker.
Alphonse had to roll his eyes and spoke to her in Elvish. “I promise you Aura; he’s your father’s choice. He’s only acting like this to figure out who you are,” Alphonse answered the question that she hadn’t spoken. “Honestly I think he’s scared of you.”
“And what, Alphonse, makes you say that?” Auralee questioned.
“He has no current connections to anything going on in our realm, and Booker is not bad at driving, plus I doubt anyone in the government would try to get to you in a human city, he’s perfect.” Alphonse shrugged.
Auralee thought about Alphonse’s comment for a moment, “And where did you find him?” glancing back at Booker as if he had just crawled up from under Alphonse’s house.
“Do you recall the ‘Belleci incident?” Alphonse waited for Auralee to connect. He sighed and filled in, “the Heist that made Lord Belleci real upset to lose what he lost…” Alphonse tossed his head toward Booker, whose head had been swinging left and right as the two discussed talked. “There were actually four people involved, not three. They found tire tracks, not horse tracks,” Alphonse finished, “Booker was the getaway driver.”
Aura’s head turned to Booker, who gave a natural wink and a grin. Aura rolled her eyes and, looked back to Alphonse, “I think I would know such information, my father…“
“Your Father understands that right now, information is worth lives.” Alphonse made a point of the last word, “Which means you are to make no show of any of your capabilities if it can be reported, understand?”
Auralee sat back with a huff, Alphonse keeping his pose for a moment before relaxing backwards, finally allowing Booker to speak up.
“So was that Elvish, or should I start paying more attention in English class?”
CHAPTER THREE
Alphonse got up and walked over to a small cabinet on the wall, opening it and going through the contents. “Now, two days should be enough to sort everything out and get the Princess safely back with her people.”
“What I’m hearing is, ‘There goes your weekend Booker, hope you didn’t have plans Booker, have fun canceling your date with Eileen, Booker,” he lamented.
Alphonse chuckled, “Yes, there goes your weekend, and no you don’t have plans. How do I know? Because you never do, I am your weekend plans, making money.” Alphonse turned around from the cabinet tossing a pair of keys to Sterling, “There, better?”
Booker caught the shiny flying keyring with ease, inspecting the brand on the keys, “Much.” He answered with a growing smile.
“Don’t scratch her,” Alphonse asked.
Sterling sounded offended. “I know how to drive,” he answered.
Alphonse made an indecisive ‘hmmm’ and left it alone.
“Where am I to rest?” Auralee interjected.
“Good question.” The lanky elf had a knowing grin as he produced a card and handed it to the Princess, “Rouge Park Apartments.”
“That's the complex where I live,” Booker answered offhand. “Wait!” His eyes opened wide, “That is the place where I live!”
“You have yourself a new neighbor.” Alphonse congratulated him by rotating his finger in the air, “Woohoo.”
“There’s a legit waiting list, how did you…” Booker's speech slowed as he started to think.
“Don’t worry about it.” Alphonse brushed it off.
He countered, “Ok, well, where, because the complex is pretty lar-“
“Number 2117,” Alphonse added.
Booker sighed as he looked at the man sideways, “Alphonse, I need you to start getting me hook-ups because. There is no way the place next to mine, ‘happened to become vacant’ at the time you need that exact apartment.”
“What can I say? Things happen the way they do; I can’t control it.” He shrugged.
Booker gave up in exasperation, “Alright so, the game plan is for me to babysit her for two days. Can I lock her up and give her my Netflix password?” he asked, trying to figure out the limits to this job.
“You can try, but if she slips out the window.” Alphonse left the rest to the imagination, “Come on Sterling, give her a taste of the human life. What part of ‘I am your plans’ was unclear?”
Booker grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, “Fine, let's go Princess.”
“What is your breed of horse” Auralee questioned.
“Horse?” Booker stopped, a small smile forming on his face, looking from the Princess to Alphonse and back, “I can show you a horse.” He promised
Booker dug back into his pocket and tossed the keys back to his host. “1968, Mustang Fastback, please,” he requested.
Alphonse looked back, incredulous, “Hold on, what?”
Booker pointed to Alphonse, “You said to give her a taste.” Sterling shrugged, “And the Princess would like a horse.”
“I’m afraid I don’t have…” The elf started sifting through the cabinet.
Sterling interrupted, “Yes, you do,” Sterling informed him, “Bullitt is your third favorite movie of all time, and I have hot wired that car on two occasions.”
Alphonse turned to gave him an inquisitive glance, one eyebrow raised.
“Fair enough.” The youth admitted, “Three times.”
In a Mexican Standoff moment, the two locked eyes with each other, The Steve McQueen enthusiast finally gave in, grabbing the right set of keys and tossing them to Sterling.
“If your name is even remotely connected with the word ‘speed’ on the news.” Alphonse closed his eyes and shook his head, not capable of putting his threat into words.
“Trust me,” Sterling gave a sly grin, “I’m like the next Andretti.”
Alphonse opened his eyes, “That's not reassuring,” he answered.
“You’re right, but I have the keys now, Bye!” Booker rushed Auralee out the door in front of him, pushing on her back.
Booker led her to the garage where Alphonse housed the vehicle, pulling off the tarp to keep the dust off of it to reveal the heavily updated movie car. He pointed to the vehicle, “This, Princess, is a horse.”
She looked it over with weary eyes, “No, it's not.” Auralee corrected.
He looked down at the car, “What? Yes, it is.” Booker responded, “It's a play on words, Mustang is a car, Mustang is also a term for a horse, specifically wild American horses since Ford is an American company and this line is supposed to be small and fast. “
Aura cut off his explanation restating her thoughts, “No, you said it was a horse,” this time she pointed to the car. “This is clearly not a horse.”
Booker took another breath to try again, before deciding it was a lost cause and exhaling loudly, “Just… get in.” Sterling raised his head when he reached his door handle, remembering just who he was in charge of.
He turned back around to walk past
her, “Follow me,” He informed her as he walked her around the vehicle to the passenger door, opening it and waving her to sit inside. She sat in the seat, curiosity on her face. “Seatbelt,” he said, pulling the buckle and handing it to her, then pointed to where it was to go before closing the door and walking back to his side, sliding in.
