Realm
Alexandrea Weis
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication date: May 14th 2019
Genres: Historical, Young Adult
This is a testament to such a strong, courageous woman that we all strive to be.
Reading this story brought me to tears and I could feel the love and dedication of Ms. Weis' literary achievement, committing her life to study Roxana and all she accomplished. This is quite possibly Ms. Weis' greatest work. If you can only read one book this year, read this one.
Based on a true story.
When her homeland is conquered by the mighty Alexander the Great, Roxana—the daughter of a mere chieftain—is torn from her simple life and thrown into a world of war and intrigue.Terrified, the sixteen-year-old girl of renowned beauty is brought before the greatest ruler the world has ever known. Her life is in his hands; her future his to decide.
Without formal education or noble blood, Roxana is chosen by the Greek conqueror to be his bride. Soon she comes to know profound happiness and unyielding desire in her warrior’s arms.However, being the king’s consort comes at a heavy price. To survive her husband’s treacherous kingdom, she must endure continuous warfare, deadly plots, jealous rivals, victory-hungry generals, and the stigma of being a barbarian. Persian blood will keep her from claiming the grandest title of all—queen—but her reign will seal the fate of an empire.
Here's a teaser (cuz' I just love it so much):
“Yasmin, do you
think these Greeks will like our dancing tonight?” Irania tugged at the snug
blue belt around her waist.
Yasmin took Irania’s
arm, urging her to keep up with her. “That’s why we have been practicing all
week, little sister. So we can be perfect before the Greek king at the
banquet.”
Roxana attempted to
shove her braided hair under her gold shawl. “I’m not sure I can do this.”
Yasmin clucked with
disapproval and stayed her hand.
“No, the Greeks must
see your beautiful hair.” She smoothed the thick plait over her right shoulder.
“Atimexis will think
I’m immodest.” Roxana bit her lower lip.
“Our father wasn’t
concerned about modesty when he gave you this expensive cloth to wear.” Yasmin
touched the sleeve of Roxana’s golden pleated dress. “You belong in the
heavens.”
Roxana held her
shaking hand against her stomach. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
Yasmin patted her
shoulder. “You always say that when you’re nervous.”
At the entrance,
Atimexis turned to the fidgeting girls, hissing last minute instructions.
Don’t look at the
Greeks while dancing. You’re the daughters of a Persian governor now. Mind your
manners.” She released a heavy sigh. “If the king invites you to dine, you must
sit next to your brothers. Eat quietly and eat only small amounts. Please, no
fighting with Histanes, Roxana. No burping, Irania. And none of you are to
touch a drop of wine. You hear me?”
“It will be fine,
Grandmother,” Yasmin interrupted. “Go on. Father and the boys are waiting.”
Atimexis checked the
girls over one last time, and then fixed her attention firmly on Roxana. “Your
father will be so proud.” She ducked into the tent.
Roxana almost
stumbled forward. She’d never heard her grandmother give any hint of kindness
or encouragement, but tonight when she had least expected it, the words had
helped.
Yasmin blew out a
loud breath. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Yeah,” Irania
added, tugging at her blue costume. “I’m hungry.”
“What else is new?”
Yasmin laughed and then turned to Roxana. “Are you ready?”
Roxana wanted to
scream she wasn’t ready, but instead, nervously bobbed her head, unable to
speak. She prayed to the gods for strength to keep from being sick all over the
king.
Lutes, harps, and
flutes came to life inside the tent.
Irania walked into
the open tent flap first, her head held high, followed by Yasmin. Roxana
brought up the rear.
Spiced meats and
sweet smoke filtered through the air. Low dining tables circled the room with
pillows as chairs. The girls rushed to their spot in the center of the open
floor. The crowd grew quiet. The music’s tempo changed, and Roxana took her
position, her gaze lowered to the mats covering the ground.
In time with the
music, she twisted and twirled, concentrating on every movement, mindful of her
duty to please the king. She arched her hands and arms gracefully, attempting
to imitate the blowing of the breeze.
Her nerves settled
as she lost herself in the strains of the pleasing tune. But then she became
curious about the men in the room. Her grandmother’s warning repeating in her
head, she peeked up until she saw the golden table reserved for their honored
guest. She reached out to do a tricky bend, lifting her head ever so slightly,
and a pair of intense gray eyes almost took her breath away.
She gasped and
quickly dropped her head, never losing her place in the dance. Her fingers and
toes tingled as if struck by lightning.
Who is that?History tells his story. This is hers.
Author Bio:
Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is a multi-award-winning author of over twenty-seven novels, a screenwriter, ICU Nurse, and historian who was born and raised in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Having grown up in the motion picture industry as the daughter of a director, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable. A member of the Horror Writers Association and International Thriller Writers Association, Weis writes mystery, suspense, thrillers, horror, crime fiction, and romance. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans where she is a permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries and rescues orphaned and injured animals.
Thank you so much, Tess!!!
ReplyDeleteMy pleasure!
DeleteThis sounds really good. Thanks for sharing the excerpt.
ReplyDelete