The
Road to Alexander
Time
For Alexander Book 1
by
Jennifer Macaire
Genre:
Paranormal Romance, Time Travel
Sex,
love, war, & quite a bit of vino - it's a Greek myth come to
life...
Ashley is
a time-travel journalist who has fought to prove herself in a world
that that believes her road in life was paved by her parents'
fortune. After winning a prestigious award, she is selected to travel
through time and interview a historical figure. Choosing her
childhood hero, Alexander
the Great,
she voyages back in time for less than a day to interview a man whose
legend has survived to the present day. He mistakes her for
Persephone, goddess of the dead, and kidnaps her. Stranded in the
past, cold and aloof Ashley has to learn to befriend, to trust...and
to love.
Join
Ashley and Alexander the Great on their fabulous adventure. Fans of
Diana Gabaldon, Jodi Taylor, and Diana Norman will enjoy this
saga.
What
everyone’s saying about The Road to Alexander:
"If
you are a fan of Diana Gabaldon and her Outlander Series then you
will love this story. The same heart wrenching trials and
tribulations that she puts her characters through happen within this
gripping tale." Lynda Warnock
"Fun,
sexy and at times incredibly sad, the story held me to the end and
the research was incredible." Karen King, author.
"If
you love Time travel books then this one is not to be missed. Totally
engrossing!!!!" Amazon reviewer.
"A
Time for Alexander is a wonderful moving saga. Really more of a
historical piece than a romance, there is more than enough heat
between Alexander and Ashley to keep the pages smoldering."
Goodreads.
"...A
delightful read, I'm looking forward to the next book in the series."
Amazon Reviewer.
"
I found an engaging and light read, fun at times with some beautiful
descriptive scenes of the cities, the landscape and life in the vast
and growing empire of Alexander the Great in 333 - 330 BC."
Amazon Reviewer.
"From
the first page, I was intrigued by this story." Conan
Tigard
"There
wasn’t a piece of this book that didn’t fit, it kept a quick
pace, the dialogue was witty and entertaining and the beautiful
descriptions of ancient lands entice you into accompanying them on
Alexander’s quest to conquer the world." Goodreads
Alexander couldn’t get over it. My itchy linen robe had been the very finest quality, thanks to the machine that wove it, but my shoes had been a dismal failure and he was disappointed in the god’s choice of footwear.
I tried to explain that the gods had nothing to do with my sandals but fell asleep in the middle of my sentence. It wasn’t that important anyway, I thought.
There was a new pair of sandals on the rug the next morning. They fitted perfectly. My old ones had disappeared, and I didn’t find out where they’d gone until I went into the village and passed by the temple. There, on the altar, were my sandals.
Fresh flowers, a bowl of warm milk, and a small snail made of clay surrounded them. A young girl in temple robes sat next to them murmuring a prayer. I tried to speak to her in Greek, but she didn’t understand me. I pursed my lips and went to find Nassar. Maybe he could explain.
Nassar was writing a letter for a tough-looking soldier. They were both sitting on a mat made of reeds, and every once in a while Nassar would throw his pen away and break off a reed. He would sharpen it quickly with his teeth and I realized with a small start that his front teeth had been carefully cut at a bias to trim reeds into pens. It was interesting and I resolved to have him explain how it was done. He dipped the reed into a little clay pot of ink and wrote on a rather cheap piece of papyrus. A dozen rolled-up letters were lying beside him, each one flattened and sealed with a blob of wax. He’d been busy all morning. When he finished the letter he rolled it up, tied it with a piece of grass and sealed it with hard wax. Then he flattened the whole thing with his fist, wrote the address on the outside, and placed it on top of the pile.
“Next?” he called out in his nasal voice.
“Good morning, Nassar,” I said as I approached.
He held his arms up in a stiff salute and then bowed, touching his forehead to the mat. “Hail Demeter’s daughter,” he intoned.
“Don’t do that!” I was upset. “Who told you that, anyway?”
“Oh, everyone knows,” he said smugly.
“Well, I’d like you to come to the temple with me to see about a pair of shoes,” I said.
“Oh! The Sacred Sandals! I should be honored! May I touch them, oh daughter of Demeter?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten. “They aren’t sacred sandals,” I said. “And of course you can touch them. There’s been a mistake.”
“They weren’t your sandals? The captain of the guards took them to the shoemaker early this morning to have a copy made in leather and gave the originals to the temple. It is not a coincidence that the goddess of the harvest, Demeter, guards this town. It was why you were sent here. Now that Iskander has rescued you, the harvest is sure to be fantastic this year.”
“But isn’t the village protected by Ishtar?”
“It was, but it’s becoming Hellenicised. Now it has adopted Demeter, goddess of the harvest, because of what Iskander said last night in his speech.”
“His speech? What did he say?”
“You should have asked me to translate,” he said, reproach in his voice. “He said he was glad to be there and that he hoped the play would be entertaining, that he and his soldiers were very happy in the village, and he was honored everyone had made them feel so welcome, and how the two cultures would complement each other.” Nassar took a deep breath, like a swimmer, and plunged in again. “He said that the gods of Greece were stronger than our gods so we’d do well to adopt theirs. He said you had been sent as a sign and that he’d saved you from Hades himself, so Demeter would forever be grateful. He said that as a goddess you would personally see to the welfare of the village.” He finished in a rush and smiled at me. “I’m no longer an atheist,” he said proudly. “I believe in you. Why, if I want, I can actually touch your sandals.”
I closed my eyes again and waited for the wave of pain that was sure to come. Pretending to be a goddess must rate among the three top reasons for erasing a Time-traveling journalist. After a few seconds I opened one eye, then the other. Nothing had happened. I was still sitting in front of Nassar, and he was watching me with a rapt expression on his narrow, rat-like face.
“Did your mother speak to you?” he whispered, his eyes wide.
“No. No, she didn’t. Excuse me, Nassar, but I think I’ll just go lie down. I have to think about all this.” I stood up, shivering with disquiet, and walked back to the tent where Alexander was having a game of dice with a tall man I recognized as the village priest. I wondered if I could sneak away, but they turned and saw me.
“Oh! There you are!” cried Alexander, standing up and holding out his arms. “I was worried. Did you find your new shoes? Yes, I see you did. The village priest has come to thank you for your sandals. In exchange, he has agreed to forsake all virgin sacrifices. Isn’t that wonderful? Your mother will be thrilled.”
“I’m sure she will be,” I said with the utmost truthfulness. Then I went into the tent and collapsed.
Legends
of Persia
Time
For Alexander Book 2
When
Ashley Riveraine jumped at the chance to travel back in time to meet
her hero Alexander the Great, she never thought she would end up
staying there…
Following
Alexander the Great’s army on its journey across Persia, Ashley is
walking the knife edge of history. As a presumed goddess, Ashley is
expected to bless crops, make sure battles are won and somehow keep
herself out of the history books.
Can
Ashley avoid the wrath of the Time Institute while keeping the man
she loves alive?
Son
of the Moon
Time
For Alexander Book 3
Can
you face the consequences of cheating the Fates?
Alexander
the Great journeys to India, where he and Ashley are welcomed with
feasts and treachery.
With
their son, Paul, being worshiped as the Son of the Moon, and
Alexander’s looming death, Ashley considers the unthinkable: how to
save them and whether she dares to cheat Fate?
Storms
Over Babylon
Time For Alexander Book 4
From
the scorching plains of Persia to the opulent city of Babylon, Ashley
and Alexander continue their sensuous and passionate journey through
history.
Alexander
the Great is now king of Persia and Greece – but his reign will be
short.
Time-travelling
Ashley knows when her husband will die. She’s determined to cheat
Fate and save Alexander and her children, even if it brings the gates
of time crashing down.
Following
Alexander on a tour of his new kingdom, she plans her moves and bides
her time. She must, however, convince Alexander to abandon his crown
and his kingdom.
In the month of May, the weather took a turn for the worse. Thunderstorms boomed over the city and there were swarms of hungry mosquitoes at night. Alexander had to oversee religious celebrations, some lasting until very late, and one evening he came back with a slight chill. I didn’t think much of it. Usse gave him some hot tea, and we lay down in bed. Plexis was already asleep, lying in his own bed next to ours. The mosquito netting moved slightly in the breeze. It was much cooler than it had been all week; the rain had cleared the air. During the night, Alexander developed a high fever. The next morning he could hardly move, his muscles cramped and he was drenched in sweat. It was malaria.
‘How do you feel now?’ I asked him for the hundredth time that day, after Usse gave him his medicine.
Alexander opened one eye and stared at me. It was his blue eye, I noticed. ‘I would feel better if my head stopped hurting,’ he admitted. ‘The fever is making me thirsty. Do you have any water nearby?’
‘Of course.’
I poured water from the pitcher into his golden cup and held it for him as he drank. The muscles in his throat worked as the water went down. Then he lay back on the bed with a sigh. ‘Do I die of malaria then?’ he asked. He tried to grin, but his mouth trembled suddenly. I leaned down and kissed him on his lips. They were hot and dry despite the cool drink.
‘Are you afraid?’
‘I thought I wouldn’t be.’ He took a shaky breath and let it out slowly. ‘But that was when I thought the only thing that counted was my kingdom.’
‘And now?’ I asked him.
‘I’ve had time to think. When you saved Plexis that’s when things began to change for me. I realized something I hadn’t known before. I want to stay with you. I love you, Ashley of the Sacred Sandals. I have told you that twice before. I should have said it more. Now, with this fever making my bones ache, I will tell you a third time. I want to see the babe you carry. I want to grow old surrounded by my loved ones. I no longer want to die. Does that answer your question? Yes, I am afraid.’
‘Don’t be afraid. I love you too, Alex.’
‘So why do you cry?’ He reached a hand to my cheek and brushed tears away.
‘Because I never dared hope that you would let go of your dream.’ My tears fell faster now. Teardrops sparkled on his hands like diamonds.
‘It took me long enough to understand that my dream was an empty one without you and Plexis by my side, and that my future was an illusion. Ashley, don’t cry. Please. I feel as if I’ve woken up from a long nightmare. All the battles and bloodshed, all the good men who died following me, they will lie on my conscious for ever. Only you will be able to ease my mind. You have seen the future, so you can tell me that it was not all futile.’
‘Of course not, Alexander. Nothing you did was futile.’
‘It feels that way now,’ he said. His eyes were very bright. I frowned at him. He was starting to sound distinctly un-Alexander-like. I put my hand on his forehead and jerked it back with a muffled cry. He was burning up.
Chants
to Persephone
Time
For Alexander Book 5
In
the fifth book in the Time For Alexander series, the Oracle of Amon
tells Alexander he must go to the Land of Ice and Snow, so they leave
their home in Alexandria and head north, to Gaul.
But
the Thief of Souls not only captured Alexander’s soul. He also
wants Paul, and the druids have raised an army to capture him. In the
heart of winter, in ancient Gaul, a terrible sacrifice is made to
Persephone, goddess of the Underworld – and Ashley finds herself
taking part in a deadly ceremony.
The men were tied hand and foot, but Alexander also had a rope around his neck that seemed to be strangling him.
I wished all sorts of evil deaths on Selena and her brother and set about easing his bonds. The knot was tight and my fingers were cold. After pulling fruitlessly on it, I leaned forward and started gnawing. I could loosen it with my teeth. The knot began to give and I sighed with relief. Alexander gasped, and some colour came back into his cheeks. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened his eyes. Snowflakes landed on his long lashes. He blinked.
‘Am I going blind?’ he whispered.
‘No, why do you say that?’ I kept my voice low.
‘Because there are white spots in front of my eyes.’ He frowned. His handsome face had a puzzled expression. ‘Where am I?’
‘Shhh, we’re being kidnapped.’
He sat up so fast he smacked me in the nose with his head. The inevitable happened, my nose started to bleed freely. I tried to staunch the blood with my hands, but some splashed through my fingers and onto Nearchus’s face. It woke him up.
‘AarrghhHHH!’ he yelled, sitting up and trying to struggle. Finding himself tied hand and foot caused him to panic. He thrashed about, kicking Axiom in the groin, which made the poor fellow bleat with pain, although his eyes stayed shut.
Yovanix hauled on the horse’s reins, stopping them, and he turned around, a horrified expression on his face.
‘So much for the element of surprise,’ I said resignedly.
I leaped up. Flinging my arms wide, I bellowed in English, ‘I hope you realize how lucky you are because if I had a sword right now you’d be a shish kebab!’
Blood spattered off my hands and flew onto his face and chest. The effect was pretty much what I’d hoped for. His eyes rolled up and he keeled over.
Alexander sat up straight and stared at me. ‘Shish kebab?’
‘A spur of the moment curse,’ I said, shrugging.
‘Well, it worked. You killed him.’ Nearchus, his hands still tied behind his back, leaned over to look at my handiwork.
Jennifer
Macaire is an American living in Paris. She likes to read, eat
chocolate, and plays a mean game of golf. She grew up in upstate New
York, Samoa, and the Virgin Islands. She graduated from St Peter and
Paul High School in St Thomas and moved to NYC where she modelled for
five years for Elite. She went to France and met her husband at the
polo club. All that is true. But she mostly likes to make up
stories..
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