by Jayla Jasso
“Sure it’s real, Mom. That came from a pirate’s ship, I bet. He was probably bringing the ring to some beautiful young woman who lived on this island when his ship sank.”
Her mother chuckled. “You have such an imagination. Take the ring; we’ll get it cleaned up when we get back to Ohio. Your father’s waiting.”
Shanna held the tiny ring clutched to her chest and followed her mother, trudging through the sand. She turned now and again to gaze out over the ocean’s waves, pretending she was the island girl waiting for her pirate lover to return.
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THE OMAJA STONE
She needs to find an assassin before he finds her, but it’s already too late.
Jiandra Stovy doesn’t have time to be a heroine—she’s a hardworking farm girl with younger siblings to raise. But when a magical stone mysteriously interjects itself into her life, possessing powers for good that only she can wield, she knows she’s the only one who can save her country and her queen. She needs to find an assassin before he strikes again and bring him to justice so that Villeleia can stop quarantining the poor refugee population within its borders. Problem is, she joins up with a tall, muscular Nandal along the way, and she’s a little too distracted by his exotic silvery eyes to notice he’s been tracking her with dangerous intentions.
Yajna’s on a desperate mission to assassinate Villeleia’s queen and start a war, but when a beautiful peasant girl with a savior complex crosses his path, he has trouble following through on his plans. He’s a wanted man, and Jiandra has only to use the Knowing power of the stone around her neck to recognize it. He knows he should kill her and take the stone before that happens, but it’s difficult to murder the one person in Villeleia who’s trying to alleviate the suffering of his people. Especially when she feels like pure heaven in his arms.
***EXCERPT – Hiding in the Woods***
“Keep quiet,” he whispered roughly near her ear. “There’s a soldier nearby.”
Jiandra recognized Yajna’s deep, silky Nandalan accent and nodded mutely. He reached in front of her to grab Otto’s reins, then grabbed her hand and led her quickly through the trees, around to the rear of the cottage.
In a few moments they came to a creek, and he took Otto to the edge of it for a drink. Yajna patted and stroked the horse’s neck, murmuring something to him in Nandalan. Otto paused in his drinking to nudge him affectionately with his nose.
“He likes you,” Jiandra whispered in surprise.
“Yes. I used to train horses back home. This one is a good boy, and you handle him well.”
Her cheeks felt warm. “Oh, I doubt that.”
“It’s true. I don’t give compliments frivolously.”
She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smile, then watched him continue to stroke Otto’s neck for a moment. “Gods, you gave me a fright back there. I am glad you are all right, though.”
He glanced up at her, his expression unreadable. His exotic silvery eyes were rather unsettling, the angle of his jaw and the shape of his firm, sexy lips only adding to her lack of inner composure. He was strikingly handsome, despite his grim demeanor, and his worn peasant’s shirt did nothing to conceal the muscles in his arms and upper chest.
She cleared her throat. “And the others? Are they all right?”
“They’re safely hidden in the basement. I found a candle and a tinderbox down there while you were gone. I also found a bucket and took them some water from the creek.”
“They must be starved.” She turned to reach for the loaves in her saddlebags, unwrapping one of them for him to inspect. “I bought some bread for them in the village.”
“I’ll take it to them, check to see if the soldier has left. Keep some for yourself and wait here.” He took out one loaf, gave it to her, then took the rest of the bread and disappeared through the trees.
Jiandra found her tin cup in Otto’s saddlebags and drank some water from the stream. She made a pallet on the ground with a blanket and settled herself on it to munch on the bread, staring at the bubbling water of the brook and listening to its hushed trickling, grateful for a moment of peace.
When Yajna returned, he seated himself next to her and accepted the hunk of bread she offered.
“Is the soldier gone? Everyone all right?”
“Yes. He’s gone. They were thankful for the bread. You were very kind to get it for them.”
“Oh, it was nothing.”
“Do you always refuse to hear praise about yourself?”
Jiandra self-consciously met his penetrating gaze. “No, I…don’t think so.”
He ate a piece of bread. “I have been wondering something about you.”
“What is that?”
“Why do you risk your life to help Nandals? It seems very strange for a Villeleian.”
Jiandra looked down and brushed a few bread crumbs from her skirt. “I’m not sure why other Villeleians are acting so coldly toward their suffering. The Nandals are human beings just like us, fleeing to Villeleia because they are doing the best they can to survive. I don’t like to see people crushed when they are desperate and unable to defend themselves.”
He didn’t respond to that.
“What made you leave Nandala to come here?”
“What makes anyone abandon their homeland? Desperation, starvation, fear. The current emperor is a malicious, greedy murderer. He is a usurper. The throne rightly belongs to another man.” A muscle in his jaw ticked.
“Would things change in Nandala if this other man were in power?”
“I believe they would.”
The sound of voices in the distance startled them. Yajna rolled over and flattened himself on his stomach on the ground. Jiandra rolled over next to him, straining to listen.
“Wait here. I will go and see,” he muttered under his breath.
“No!” Jiandra grabbed his arm to stop him. His bicep was a solid, bunched muscle under her hand. “I’ll go. If they see you, you’ll be captured.”
“They won’t see me.” He sprang to his feet with a panther-like movement and moved soundlessly through the trees toward the house, disappearing from her view.
Jiandra waited, listening to her own breathing in the quiet forest air.
He was back in a couple of minutes, lowering himself to the ground beside her once again. He handed her a melon. “A farmer and his son, driving a cart of melons. I stashed a few of them under the front steps for the others.”
She sat up. “What? You stole melons from the cart? They could have caught you!”
He met her gaze, faint amusement in his silvery eyes. “No. I was very quiet.”
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