Alawahea Read online

  Alawahea

  The Azellian Affairs Book One

  Sara L. Daigle

  Contents

  Praise for Alawahea …

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Let’s Stay Connected

  Read on for an excerpt from Sara L. Daigle’s book two of the Azellian Affairs

  In Gratitude

  About the Author

  About the Press

  Alawahea

  The Azellian Affairs, Book One

  Published by Merry Dissonance Press, LLC

  Castle Rock, CO

  Copyright © 2015 by Sara L. Daigle. All rights reserved.

  [email protected]

  * * *

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, including photocopying, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission from Merry Dissonance Press, LLC or Sara L. Daigle, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  * * *

  All images, logos, quotes, and trademarks included in this book are subject to use according to trademark and copyright laws of the United States of America.

  * * *

  FIRST EDITION 2015

  * * *

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2015903351

  Daigle, Sara L., Author

  Alawahea: The Azellian Affairs, Book One

  Sara L. Daigle

  * * *

  1. Fiction

  2. Visionary & Metaphysical

  3. Romance/Fantasy

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  Book Design and Cover Design © 2015

  Cover Design by Elena Karoumpali

  Book Design by Andrea Costantine

  Editing by Donna Mazzitelli

  All Rights Reserved by Sara L. Daigle and Merry Dissonance Press, LLC

  To David and my mother

  You never got to see the finished product,

  but here it is … at long last

  Praise for Alawahea …

  “... this fusion of soft science fiction and romance is well written, briskly paced, and utterly readable. Where other science fiction romances get bogged down in intricate—and at times, unnecessary—backstory, author Sara L. Daigle brilliantly avoids this and immediately concentrates on the protagonist’s development and storyline.

  “Romantic science fiction has been slowly gaining popularity for years: This is a perfect example of a successful blending of those genre elements. Powered by an identifiable and endearing heroine, this novel is just the beginning of what could be a long and fascinating series.”

  - BlueInk Review

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  “This novel is the perfect combination of everything—romance, controversy, futuristic planetary relations, love, new ‘beliefs’ … totally awesome!”

  - Meghann Conter, Mistress of Marketing,

  MeghannConter.com, Denver, CO

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  “The storyline in Alawahea took me on a journey far beyond what I could have imagined. After living in Colorado for forty-two years, it was especially enjoyable to read about Denver, a place near and dear to my heart.”

  - Lisa Ford, Author, Finding Her Claire

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  “I have so enjoyed this book! The writing and characters completely sucked me into the story. I can’t wait to see what happens in the next book! Sara Daigle’s writing is wonderful. Her descriptions are captivating and her characters well thought out.”

  - Kirsten Wolpert, Scottsdale, AZ

  “I believe everything in the book as fact; I’m not even kidding you. I love it!”

  -Joshua Johnson, Theta Healer, JoshuaTree ThetaHealing

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  “Alawahea immerses you in a world of possibility. Intriguing characters make Sara Daigle’s universe come to life and leave you anxiously turning the page to find out what happens next!”

  - Jarrod Musick, Destiny Capital, Denver, CO

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  “I am not a reader, but this book had me from the start. I could not put it down, and I was sad when I came to the end. Sara has a unique vision. I can’t wait to read the next book.”

  - Lauren Shrensky,

  Nutritious U Bravo Bars, Denver, CO

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  “I had a feeling when I found out it was over 400 pages that I would not be putting it down … and I was right! I finished it in two-and-half days! And as excited as I am for the rest of the series, I will definitely be reading Alawahea again!!”

  - Wendy Groves, Pueblo, CO

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  “Alawahea brought a sense of imagination and creativity back into my life. I cannot wait for it to be continued.”

  - Marie Makinano, WIRE Properties, Denver, CO

  Chapter One

  DISASTER. IT PROMISED to be a total disaster. Or else the very best thing that had ever happened to the world. Ellen Pearson snorted, almost laughing as she stared down at the harbringer of change in front of her. Couched in legal terms that nevertheless did not camoflauge the revolutionary intent behind the request, the précis in front of her seemed completely innocuous, yet so very complex.

  A presidential election year loomed like a threat on the horizon, and the President of the United States had decided he wanted to push everyone’s patience and promote goodwill toward all in an effort to create a positive image—hopefully. A part of that involved inviting alien students to Earth to study. And people like her had to make it work—somehow. She sighed, tapping her fingers on the desk. Of the many ambassadors on Earth available to consult with about this matter, only one had shown any interest at all in the project—the Azellian ambassador. Ellen had met Merran Corina only once; unfortunately, he had not impressed her. Oh, he was certainly young, handsome, charming, and very polite, but he also dominated many of the tabloids with tales of his prowess amongst human women. She’d seen an article just this morning linking him with some new starlet. How he managed to have time to actually work, she had no idea, but shortly after the president made his announcement, Mr. Corina had indeed put in a request to be part of the exchange program, refining and improving upon the president’s original suggestion. She pulled up his email, clicking on the attachment.

  Somewhat to her surprise, Merran’s request was organized, well-planned, and very short. The idea was to allow students to exchange from Earth to Azelle and Azelle to Earth. There would be limited exposure at first, initially through the University of Denver. Located a couple of blocks from the embassy, it would provide the perfect place for Azellian students to get familiar with their human counterparts. The exchange would last for one year—a small group only, of maybe four to six Azellian students to start with, all conversant in Standard English, who would choose a courseload in accordance with university policy. Then, a select group of students from Earth would be allowed to exchange back to Azelle. Merran Corina would oversee the whole process closely, and, if successful, this exchange could be expanded to include universities in other cities on Earth and Azelle.

  Ellen drummed her finger against her computer screen. She glanced down at her watch. Was it too late to call the ambassador? Probably, but if she called the embassy’s number, she could leave a message and have him return it in the morning. She clicked on the video portion of her computer and tapped the embassy’s number.

  “Azellian Embassy. This is Saudrina Marynna. How may I help you?” The video had been picked up by an actual Azellian, amazingly enough in this era of computer-generated answering s
ervices and endless hold times as calls were routed to overseas locations. The screen showed a young woman, maybe in her twenties, with regular features—brown hair and ordinary brown eyes. She spoke English with a perfect accent. Except for her name, which wasn’t a human surname, she could have been Ellen’s own assistant.

  “Good evening, Ms. Marynna. I would like to leave a message for Ambassador Corina. This is Ellen Pearson of the Earth Liaison Office.”

  “Just a moment, Ms. Pearson. Let me check to see if Ambassador Corina is available to speak with you now.” The screen went dark as she put Ellen on hold. Ellen leaned back and waited, surprised that she might actually be able to speak to the ambassador at this late hour.

  “Thank you for waiting, Ms. Pearson. I have the ambassador on the line for you.” She clicked another button and Ellen was suddenly looking at Merran Corina himself. His hair was a bit tousled, and he looked like he was wearing little else but a dressing robe.

  Ellen felt the blush crawl up her cheeks and bloom into ferocious heat. “I’m so sorry, Ambassador. I didn’t realize you would be disturbed by my request.”

  The young ambassador grinned. “You didn’t disturb me, Ms. Pearson.” An odd time-lag to his voice and his musical accent necessitated Ellen’s focused attention to understand his words. “I am working from home today,” he added.

  Ellen blinked. “Uh, aren’t you here in Denver, Ambassador? It’s nearly ten o’clock in the evening. I’d intended to leave you a message because of the lateness.”

  “No, I am currently on Azelle where it is mid-afternoon.” His impish grin faded to a more formal, appropriate expression for an ambassador. “What can I help you with, Ms. Pearson? I would imagine it is quite important that you should need to contact me at ten o’clock in the evening.”

  With some difficulty, Ellen collected herself. “Oh, no, Ambassador. Not at all. I am simply going through your request to exchange students between here and Azelle and I have a few questions for you about the details.”

  He said nothing further about the lateness of the hour, settling back in his chair instead. “Certainly. What can I help you with?”

  She fought to remember what she’d been meaning to ask, trying to bring her brain back online. She might have met him in the past, but she’d never had to deal with him directly before, and the sensation that his eyes went right through her, even through the somewhat jerky online connection, was unnerving in the extreme. “Our strongest concern is your involvement. How closely do you intend to oversee this process?”

  “I see myself taking a very active role in the choice of students who will be allowed to exchange in both directions. I plan to host regular excursions and meetings at the embassy on Earth, offer adjustment services for the Azellians who will be traveling to Earth, and facilitate the same services for humans who come to Azelle. I will personally interview all candidates who go to Earth and return to Azelle. Students will be picked based on the ones most likely to make the best transition between the two cultures. The students in both directions are going to be ambassadors, and we plan on treating them as such.” His answer was smooth and practiced, and Ellen had the sudden feeling he’d delivered it many times in the recent past.

  “So you will be the one the Liaison Office contacts in the event of trouble?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Ambassador, there is no reason to refuse your request … the university is quite thrilled to be the first exchange school with Azelle. The new school year begins in one month. Were you planning on enrolling your Azellian exchange students this semester?”

  The ambassador’s smile made her heart stumble. She ignored its effect, calling on thirty-five years of dealing with ambassadors—some young, some old, some strange, some fantastic—to keep her expression smooth.

  “We would love to, Ms. Pearson.”

  “Will you be returning to Denver soon, Ambassador?” Only a tiny quiver in her voice betrayed her, but that wasn’t audible to someone who didn’t know her. At least she hoped not.

  “In a few days, yes. I can have the bio stats on the Azellians who wish to attend the university ready when I arrive. Do you need me to supply the university or you with a copy?”

  “Yes, send over two copies. I’ll review them and submit them to the university administration. It won’t be easy, but we will have your students enrolled within the month.”

  Again the blinding smile, but Ellen braced herself for it this time.

  “Thank you, Ms. Pearson. Can I help you with anything further?”

  “No, Ambassador, I think that is all I need for now.”

  “Well then, good evening Ms. Pearson. Or should I say goodnight?” The ambassador’s smile took on the edge of a grin.

  “Good evening, Ambassador.” Ellen firmly pushed the end button. Were they all that young? Had she ever been? Ellen sighed as she turned off the computer. She hoped the president knew what he was doing with this open exchange thing, because if all Azellians were like the young ambassador, human relationships were in trouble. Shaking her head, she leaned over her desk, sliding the précis away from her, and then pushed her chair back. Getting to her feet, she turned away from the dark mountains and the lighted skyscrapers and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

  Several days later, in one of Denver’s northwestern suburbs, Tamara Carrington stared at the book she was trying, rather unsuccessfully, to read. The blare of the television coming from the family room downstairs distracted her as she sprawled across the thick, oversized armchair where she sat in the formal living room upstairs.

  “And now, our human interest section,” the newscaster droned in his smooth, neutral voice. “In accordance with President Labord’s new era of open communication, the University of Denver has announced its plans to welcome four students from Azelle to their campus this semester. Ambassador Merran Corina, one of Azelle’s youngest and most active ambassadors, is going to oversee the program and will help integrate the Azellian students for the nineteen months they will be attending school on Earth. Lucy Parvinter managed to catch up with Ambassador Corina earlier today and has the details for us.”

  Tamara threw her book aside, launched herself out of the armchair, and flew down the stairs, hanging on to the rail as she skipped over several steps on her way down. She rounded the corner of the basement, clinging to the edge of the wall to make it around, and stared at the plasma televison that dominated the room. Her father watched the screen, his expression impassive. Her mother, with her mouth open in a little “o” of surprise, cupped a mug of tea and watched the screen intently. Her grandmother focused entirely on the knitting in her hands, seemingly ignoring the television with a ferocity that was nearly palpable.

  “Thank you, Jim. I am here at the Azellian Embassy.” A woman’s face, pretty in a generic, television sort of way, with dark hair cut short in clean lines that framed her round face, appeared on the screen. Behind her, tall ornate gates surrounded a beautiful white mansion lit up brilliantly in the night. Spotlights highlighted specific areas of the mansion, giving it a ghostly glow. Not knowing why, Tamara suppressed a shiver. “A short distance from the university campus, it provides the perfect spot from which to coordinate efforts to introduce Azellian students to Earth.”

  The shot on screen switched abruptly to a room inside the mansion, focusing on Lucy Parvinter’s face. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Ambassador.” The camera swung away from the generically attractive reporter to focus on the ambassador who was seated behind a large oak desk.

  Tamara’s breath caught as the ambassador favored the reporter with a brilliant smile. High cheekbones, firm jaw, a slender blade of a nose, generous lips, and a perfectly proportioned mouth, his face should have graced the cover of a men’s fashion magazine. Wavy dark hair fell around his broad shoulders, and the camera caught even darker brown eyes. In the bright lights of the camera equipment, his skin was an olive color, tanned to a glowing bronze. The ambassador lifted long fin
gers to brush a wave of hair off his forehead. He wore a light gray suit, setting off his dark looks perfectly. “You are welcome, Ms. Parvinter. It is an honor to be here.” His voice was light and musical, the words flowing off his tongue almost as if they were being sung. Except for the accent, he spoke English flawlessly.

  “Ambassador, tell us a little bit about the program. What do you hope to accomplish?”

  “Our purpose is to build a stronger relationship between our worlds. We have reached a new era of exploration and study for all of us. As this era continues, we cannot continue to isolate ourselves. We want to learn from you and hope you will also learn from us in a free exchange of ideas, thoughts, and behaviors. I have spent eight years here in Denver, and I must tell you, it has been absolutely fascinating to me. I hope my fellow Azellians will agree.” The ambassador favored the reporter with another blinding smile. Tamara held her breath. How was the woman keeping her thoughts straight?

  However she was doing it, she managed. Her voice didn’t even waver as she replied in smooth, polished tones, “We are certainly glad to have you here, Ambassador. We know very little about our Azellian cousins. It is wonderful to have the opportunity to learn more.”

  “We’re better off knowing nothing about those demons,” Tamara’s grandmother muttered, twitching the length of blanket across her lap and pointing her knitting needles as if she were ready to leap through the screen and stab him.

  “Isn’t that your dorm, Tammy dear?” Jeanine, Tamara’s mother, interjected quietly. Sadie Carrington fell silent—a sour expression remaining on her face as she violently wrenched her knitting. It was as if it represented the attractive ambassador, each movement of the yarn wrapping more tightly around his throat.