Stardancer

by Ariel MacArran

  “I will be a good Tellaran husband,” he promised solemnly. “I will learn to dance.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand and the tears overflowed. At that moment she felt a flutter, a small thumping from inside . . .

  She gasped.

  His brow creased. “Wait, Tedah said — No, I have done this wrong,” he muttered. “I should have purchased a betrothal bracelet first.”

  She gave a broken sob and shook her head. “No, you did it perfectly.”

  He extended his sword a little more, hopefully. “You will take me then, as husband?”

  “I don’t want a Tellaran husband, Aidar.” His face fell and she rushed on. “I want an Az-kye mate. I want you, just as you are. And I want to go home — to our home — on the Imperial world.”

  He caught his breath, searching her face. “Cy’atta, is this truly what you wish?”

  “Gods, yes. So you better hold onto that,” she said with a nod at the sword he held to her. “Especially since we still need to go inside to tell my father you’re taking me back to Az-kye and, if I have anything to do with it, the next time he sees me it’ll be on the other side of the table for the treaty negotiation.”

  A quick smile lit his face. He sheathed his sword.

  She stepped closer and his arms went around her very, very gently. His gaze was velvet soft and then she felt it again. She couldn’t take back the hurt she had caused but there was something she could give him.

  He bent to kiss her but she grabbed his hand and placed it against the slight curve of her belly.

  “Wait,” she whispered, holding his warm broad palm against her belly. “Wait.”

  They stood there like that, the night warm and silent around them.

  A thump.

  She looked up. “Did you feel that?”

  His eyes got very round. His mouth opened and closed but his tongue failed him.

  She saw the shine of tears in those beloved dark eyes and caught his face in her hands.

  “I love you, Aidar,” she said, raising her mouth to his. “And don’t worry, that binding stuff works just fine on Tellarans.”

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  Futuristic Romance

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  After spending a year enslaved by the Az-kye, Commander Kyndan Maere has good reason to hate them. On the eve of peace between the Tellaran Realm and the Az-kye Empire, Kyndan finds himself drawn into a duel for the hand of Alari, the First Imperial Daughter. When their passion ignites, Kyndan learns the only thing harder than winning this princess would be losing her . . .

  Click to go to The Consort on Amazon

  If you enjoyed Kinara and Aidar’s story, please let others know writing a review of Stardancer on Amazon and Goodreads.

  Please page down to read excerpts from my other currently available books— The Seer and Another Man’s Bride.

  Thank you!

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  Ariel MacArran…

  Futuristic Romance

  Available Now

  Discovery means death but Arissa risks everything to save Fleet officer Jolar’s life. Repaying this telepath means saving her from execution but Jolar will do whatever it takes to clear his debt to her. The only thing he absolutely cannot let himself do is fall in love with her . . .

  An excerpt follows

  The Seer

  The Seer

  ©2014 Ariel MacArran

  Jolar reached into his pocket and pulled out an ID scanner. "Come here."

  Arissa recoiled instinctively. "What's that for? You already have my scan."

  "Here's the first rule if you want to live, Arissa. You do what I tell you when I tell you,” he bit out. “Come here."

  She took a few reluctant steps closer, watching him warily.

  He held the scanner up near her eye and caught her chin before she could turn away. "Don't flinch. It's a simple ID scan. People do it everyday, several times a day. It doesn't hurt and no one is afraid of them."

  Arissa willed herself not to move as he flashed the red light in her eye.

  He glanced at the reading. He turned the scanner so she could see the display.

  She blinked. It was her face, her as she was now, not a little girl's face. No black stripe above her image reading 'deceased'.

  "Legan, Arissa?” she breathed. "What is this?"

  "That's your new name. Hope you like it, though doesn't much matter if you don't."

  "My new—?” The breath rushed out of her lungs. "I have an ID? Will it—Will that show on all the scanners?"

  "Oh, yes. System wide, absolutely authentic and official."

  An ID, a real one, a non-telepath one? The possibilities, the safety, the freedom of it made her dizzy.

  "You did that?" Arissa managed.

  "No, I called in every favor and debt owed me to make that happen. I just burned through every bit of influence I’ve built up in the last ten years – goodwill that was intended to land me Zartan’s seat on the Tellaran Council after I retire from the Fleet.” Jolar’s eyes were blue ice. “I expect to be well paid in return."

  "Oh." She wet her lips and glanced at the cot. A real ID in return for letting him have her? She couldn’t afford to refuse, it didn’t even occur to her to try. "You want—I mean, here or—?"

  He burst out laughing and Arissa's face went hot.

  "You couldn't frack me enough to pay for this!" Jolar sobered. "No, that’s not what I want from you. There's something on Sertar I have to do. Something important. Having a woman with me is actually a liability—unless she has a unique talent to bring to the table. Your talent."

  She searched his face. "You need a telepath."

  "Want one,” he corrected. “I don't need one. Which means you do as you're told or your best hope is that Doctor de’Sar gets her longed-for opportunity to study one of you. Are we clear?"

  Arissa swallowed. "Yes."

  He held up the scanner. "This is a solid ID—unless something happens to me. Make sure nothing happens to me. Still clear?"

  Her cheeks were burning. "Don't kill you in your sleep. Got it."

  His sense was as cold as his eyes now. "Don't misunderstand me. If I think for a moment you've betrayed me, I'll put that blaster bolt in your head myself."

  He was such a jumble of emotion she couldn’t sort it all but just the words hurt. She blinked away the sudden sting of tears. "Sorry. I was—I was joking."

  He locked gazes with her. "Don't joke like that again."

  She dropped her eyes.

  "All right," he said finally. "You're going to shower and change. I have clothes for you. They might not fit perfectly or be what you like, but put them on anyway. Fix yourself up as best you can in twenty minutes."

  Arissa frowned. "Why?"

  "Because that's how much time I'm giving you," he said impatiently, turning away.

  She pushed the curls out of her face. "Whatever you say, Commander.”

  His sudden anger hit her so hard she gasped.

  "Don't ever call me that again," he snarled. "Understand?"

  She shook her head. "I don't—I mean, I thought—well, isn't that what you are?"

  He gave her a narrow look. “Are you fracking with me? Or have you forgotten I know you’re a Seer?”

  Arissa seethed. “Are you expecting me to read your every thought? Because it doesn’t work like that. I told you. And if you want me to help you, you’re going to have to tell me what you need me to do.”

  He huffed a sigh. "Fine. Part of our cover story is I never rose above Lieutenant. I left the fleet five years ago when we moved to Aylor. Can you remember that? Because it’s time to go."

  She frowned. "We? Our cover story?"

  "Yes, we. I'm Jolar Legan." He nodded toward the open door of the cell. "Your husband."

  Click to go to The Seer on Amazon

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  Ariel MacArran…

  Historical Romance

  Available Now

  Fle
eing charges of witchcraft at the English court, Lady Isabella Beaufort agrees to a marriage arranged by her cousin, Queen Joan of Scotland. Deep in the Highlands, Isabella is captured by Colyne MacKimzie, an enemy to the king and a man set on claiming a rich ransom for her return.

  Even as she is drawn irresistibly to Colyne, Isabella’s visions show her terrifying images of him killing King James—and her as well. Colyne knows giving into his desire for this beautiful, haunted woman invites his swift destruction just as he knows he will risk anything to have her . . .

  An excerpt follows

  Another Man’s Bride

  Another Man’s Bride

  ©2013 Ariel MacArran

  She might have been alone in the world, Isabella thought, as the silence deepened around her. She could neither see nor hear the others from her place by the well. There was no sound but the faint stirring of the cloths as they moved in the breeze and Isabella stood for a long time, watching them.

  Offer a prayer for herself? What could she pray for? A swift end to her imprisonment? That she find her betrothed pleasing, and he, her? She had all the wealth she could wish for. Provided her husband did not squander it or deny her pin money, she should never fear hunger or cold.

  Nothing she could think of seemed right somehow.

  An end to her visions?

  The visions retreated to haunt her nightmares but she knew they would return. She might have escaped her enemies at Bella Court by fleeing to this frozen country but they would follow her to the ends of the world.

  She dipped the cloth in the water, surprisingly warm despite the frigid weather.

  Isabella thought of the French girl she had seen in Rouen, the girl they called La Purcell, twisting and screaming in the flames.

  Her hands were shaking as she tied the cloth to the tree.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Isabella looked at her tied cloth, hanging on the branch in this sacred place. She bent her head and heard a sound behind her. Seeing who it was, she quickly fanned her hair to hide her face.

  “What is it, lass?” Colyne asked softly.

  She kept her head turned away and her hand covered her mouth.

  “Are ye longin’ for home, then?”

  She did not reply and he continued, his voice rough, “Ye’re nae afeared of me, are ye? I’d never hurt ye.”

  Her eyes closed when she felt him touch her hair, sliding his fingers through the strands. Just that simple touch was enough to break through her fragile self control and very gently he gathered her in his embrace as she sobbed. His body was warm, a refuge in a world of loneliness, and she clung to him. He rocked her, murmuring soothing words softened with a Scottish burr.

  Isabella lifted her face as he pressed a kiss to her temple. His eyes searched her face for an instant, and then he caught her chin gently, tilting his head to bring his mouth to hers.

  She clung to him as he explored, reaching up to his powerful shoulders, catching the silky strands of his brilliant hair between her fingers. His hands were under her cape now. This kiss was gentler yet hungrier than the last.

  He broke away suddenly, breathing hard, his forehead against hers.

  Had she done something wrong? Timidly she tilted her head to bring her mouth to his again but he would not let her. He squeezed his eyes shut, and with his hands firmly at her waist, pushed her away.

  Shocked by the chill Isabella scrambled to pull her cloak closed against the cold. He was looking down at her, his mouth tight and drawn now.

  “Ye’re not for me.”

  Of course, Isabella thought. Alisoun.

  And Douglas.

  “No,” she agreed hoarsely.

  “Dinna fear.” He took a step back, his mouth tight. “I’ll nae lay a hand on ye again, lady.”

  With that he was gone, leaving her alone and bereft in the cold, a thousand heartfelt prayers fluttering in the tree beside her.

  Click to go to Another Man’s Bride on Amazon Stay informed at www.arielmacarran.com

  I cannot thank my editor, Erin McCabe, enough for her incredible work on Stardancer. She has an amazing eye for editing, her ideas and gentle guidance made this book a wonderful experience for me. She’s a joy to work with!

  Thanks to my cover designer Steven James Catizone for making my vision for the book a reality. I am so grateful for your incredible patience!

  Thank you to my friends who supported and encouraged me and most of all to my family.

  About

  Ariel MacArran

  Ariel MacArran has had a lifelong love of books, stories and writing. Nothing makes her happier than the opportunity to give back some of the magic of being swept up into a story that other writers have given her. Ariel lives in Charleston, South Carolina.

  Ariel loves hearing from readers! Please visit her website:

  www.arielmacarran.com