The Ambassador’s Daughter
by Violet L. Ryan

Print ISBN-13: 978-1-926912-49-3
Editor: Tracy DeVore
Publisher: Belfire Press
Pages: 224
Dimensions: 5.25″x8″
Cover Price: $12.99
Order Direct: CreateSpace

 
E-book ISBN-13: 978-1-926912-51-6
Formats: html, js, mobi, epub, pdf, rtf, lrf, pdb, txt
Price: $2.99

Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-926912-50-9
Price: $2.99

Now available through CreateSpace, Amazon, Kindle, Smashwords.

Coming soon to Barnes & Noble, Nook, Diesel and Kobo.

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The Ambassador’s Daughter – Ambassador Adam Carvell’s daughter has a baby… but is he the child of a king?

When Olivia Carvell’s abductors carry her away, she has no idea the rescuer she hopes for would soon become king of his own war-torn country.

Nikandros Sandraga knew when he wed the captured woman their vows were real should his father die, but to save her he takes a chance. Four years later, he learns he has a son, one who is crown prince of Ovest Batari, and he endeavors to make the former captive his queen.

Along the journey to become acquainted and make the best of their marriage, they prevent a coup, and discover love is the key to peace.

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What they’re saying about The Ambassador’s Daughter:

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Excerpt:
The dark interior of the castle blinded her bright, sun-infused, travel-worn eyes for several seconds. As they adjusted to the changed light, Livvy saw four-story-high ceilings, stone walls covered with room-sized tapestries, a gigantic wrought iron chandelier hung with hundreds of large crystal teardrops suspended on a chain that disappeared into obscurity somewhere above. Slate tiles, worn smooth from centuries of footsteps, inlaid into the same colorful mosaic patterns she saw outside, probably used throughout the complex. Stone statues, bronzed busts and incredible portraits lined the great hall, marching into the distance, no end visible in muted light.

Felice grasped her elbow and led her along the hall toward double doors wide and tall enough to drive a dump truck through. They opened as if by magic, and he literally pushed Livvy into a cavernous room. Directly in front of her worn Nikes, a red carpet invited visiting royalty, honored guests and indignant mothers to take their first step.

Livvy’s gaze followed the red runner a long way and arrived at an elevated dais. A throne sat atop the dais. Nik sat on the throne.
Her breath caught again. This time it stuck. When lack of oxygen forced lungs into auto-recovery, she gulped air. Mental knowledge of Nik’s ascension hadn’t prepared her for the sight of him on an actual throne. She stared–and stared.

He hadn’t dressed for the occasion. But unlike her travel-rumpled clothing, his simple black slacks and long sleeved tee looked comfortable, yet somehow regal. How could the man maintain that casual air while seated on a throne? Upbringing, no doubt.

She jerked her arm from Scoundrel’s grip and marched forward. Surprise halted her progress when a band of guards stepped between her and Nik. Livvy felt a sudden shift in time. The pistols Nik’s protectors held could well have been javelins, or battle axes. He could just as easily have worn satin knee britches, fur-lined robe, and a golden crown.

“Let her pass.”

He sounded different, authoritative, commanding. Livvy’s heart skipped a beat.

Don’t wimp out now, she scolded. He’s the same man as always, a kidnapper, a power mad royal, the man who has your son. “Yes, move aside. Let me get my hands around his noble throat.”

Trained to protect their king, duty overruled Nik’s order, and hers. Clicks came from every pistol as soldiers cocked their weapons for use. Livvy felt tiny hairs stiffen, bumps raise, lungs wheeze. A shout from their king ended the standoff.

“Holster your weapons, men.” Nik’s voice boomed, echoed in the vast chamber.

Metal slapped leather as they obeyed. The king eyed his rebellious wife, fought the urge to grab hold and run to the nearest bedroom. Not a plausible idea. Too much to discuss–first. “Olivia, come here before you start a war.”