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The
Traveller
The
Traveller Series
Book 1
Melissa
Delport
Genre:
Sci-fi romance/action
ASIN:
B00IVKXJ7M
Number of
pages: approx 253
Word Count:
89500
Available on
Amazon
Book
Description:
Seven years
ago, Rachel gave her heart to a dark, intense stranger, who left her broken and
alone.
Every day
since then Rachel has thought about Dex, her memories refusing to be silenced.
Now, Dex is
back, but this time he is not alone. He has brought a formidable army – their
sole purpose to conquer. Fate will bring Rachel and Dex back together, but on
opposing sides of a war that threatens to obliterate her world.
Pitted
against the power of the elements, Rachel and her friends must survive
tsunamis, earthquakes, tornadoes and fire, all the while being hunted by a
powerful enemy who will stop at nothing to pillage her planet.
Fleeing for
her life amidst the chaos of a raging, burning city, Rachel realizes man’s only
chance of survival lies in the hands of the very person who betrayed her all
those years ago.
Earth is
destined to fall, but Rachel is determined to save mankind, no matter the
sacrifice.
He was the most beautiful
boy I had ever seen. Although 'boy' was not really the right word - he was
slightly too old to be called a boy, but he was still beautiful. I remember
that above all else, although what followed should have erased that thought from
my consciousness. His hair was black - jet black - and he was tall; well over
six feet. I was laughing with Kimberley when I first saw him, lounging against
a lamp-post, as though he was waiting for someone. I suppose in hindsight he
was. In the instant that our eyes met and that secret smile crossed his face, I
could almost imagine that it was me, that I was the one he was waiting for. Of
course that was not the case. I know that now.
I had to cross the street
close by where he stood, watching me intently, and as I passed I couldn’t help
but glance over at him again. His eyes stopped me, literally, in my tracks.
They were green; the most startling green eyes I had ever seen, but there was
something different about them. It happened so quickly I thought I was
imagining it, but, for just a moment, those eyes seemed to glow, an iridescent,
brilliant emerald that left me speechless and standing in the middle of the
street staring open-mouthed at a beautiful stranger.
“Can I help you?” The deep,
rich baritone of his voice was hypnotic and I couldn’t reply – I simply stood
there, unable to tear my gaze away. I would have placed him at around
twenty-five years old, far older than any of the boys I usually hung around
with; far too old for me. At seventeen, in my senior year at High School, what
little I knew about boys I had learned from popular culture not real life. He
was dressed in black – all in black - and as I stared a sly grin crossed his
face.
“I said; can I help you?”
he repeated, sounding somewhere between amused and annoyed and my cheeks
flushed with mortification.
“No!” I managed eventually,
the word ringing out across the empty street.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing myself not to act like
a fool. “No, thank you. I’m fine.”
He nodded at me, his eyes
thoughtful and I remember wondering why he didn’t look away. My parents always
said that it’s impolite to stare but that is exactly what he did. He seemed to
look right through me with absolutely no embarrassment, and I fought the urge to
look away.
“What is your name?” he
asked, although it didn’t sound like a question. It sounded like an order, like
he demanded to know. I had been taught never to give my name out to strangers
but I found myself answering anyway, as though I had no control over my own
responses.
“Rachel.” It was barely
more than a whisper but I knew that he could hear me. Even from there. Even
from thirty feet away. I shouldn’t have been talking to him at all,
particularly with the feelings I was having; he was far too old for it to be
appropriate. Still, I couldn’t seem to tear myself away.
He was the most beautiful
boy I had ever seen. How could I have known the monster that lurked beneath?
“Rhodes!” Bill Parish barks across the expanse of the
enormous mahogany desk interrupting my reverie and snapping me back to the
present. I shake my head, focusing my attention back on my portly, overbearing
boss. It is always like this when the memories flood back, memories that will not
be silenced. I get lost in them, swept up in the emotions that I have so long
tried to repress. Even after seven years I still think of that summer, of the
boy I met and the precious few weeks we shared. I still see his eyes in my
dreams, those vivid, mystical green eyes. It makes me angry that he invades my
thoughts; he has no right. He left you,
I remind myself firmly.
“I hope we’re not boring you?” Bill stares down at me;
his glasses perched crookedly on the end of his long nose which has never
mended properly after being broken so many times. Bill was a broadcast
journalist for almost twenty years before he was offered the role of News
Director at the American Broadcasting Company, New York Office. The rumor is
that he turned it down at first, preferring the thrill of being out in the
field, but when his much younger third wife threatened to leave him for never
being at home, he realized the time had come to settle down. Two failed
marriages reflected badly enough and, despite the difference in their ages,
Bill adores his current significant other. Now, at 56 years old, Bill is in
charge of the news department. As far as everyone in this room is concerned, he
is the be all and end all of the network; the only people who wield more power
than he does are the company’s presidents, none of whom we have ever met
personally.
“Not at all, Bill,” I smile sweetly, and he narrows
his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. I know that Bill,
despite his gruff exterior, favors me among the motley crew of newscasters,
photographers, editors, reporters and studio crew who make up our team. I
produce work of exceptional quality, as a result of my four-year degree in
videography and camera operation and the further two years I have spent here at
ABC proving my worth. I had managed to secure this job straight out of college
thanks to a glowing recommendation from my professor who had worked alongside
Bill in his glory days. I love my job. I love the ever-changing work
environment and the unpredictability of the diverse subjects I film. In news,
you never know what you’re going to get.
“Rachel’s day-dreaming again,” Jason Masters sighs
beside me, rolling his eyes. Jason is my newscaster, or 'anchorman'. Typically,
we work on assignment as a pair, covering assigned events and breaking stories
outside the office. We are a dynamic duo, but Jason drives me nothing short of
crazy. He is possibly the most arrogant man I have ever met. At twenty-seven,
he is only three years older than I am and is handsome in the traditional sense
– blond, blue-eyed, with a strong jaw-line and a great body. Unfortunately he
is all too aware of this, and he oozes charm and lives for flattery. Jason is
so slick he has slept with half the women at the table, and, sadly, most would
all too willingly have him back in a heartbeat if he so much as batted those
ridiculously long eyelashes at them. I think part of the reason he is so
patronizing towards me is that I refuse to sleep with him……….continues……
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About the
Author:
Wife, mother
of 3, businesswoman by day and author by night, Melissa Delport is the author
of The Legacy Series and Rainfall. She graduated from the University of South
Africa with a Bachelors Degree in English in 2000. She currently lives with her
husband and three children in Hillcrest, South Africa.
Her first
novel, The Legacy, published in 2013, is the first in The Legacy Series
trilogy, and is followed by the sequel The Legion. The final book, The Legend
is due out in 2014. She has also written an independent novel entitled
Rainfall, a psychological romance, and a science-fiction, action-adventure
called The Traveler.
An avid
reader herself, Melissa finally decided to stop “watching from the sidelines”
and to do what is her passion.
“I was
driving home from work when inspiration struck, and a storyline started
unravelling in my head. For a few days, it was all I could think about and
eventually I realised that the only way to get it out of my head, was to put it
all down on paper. I started writing, and that was that.”
Website: www.melissadelport.com
Twitter:
@melissadelport
Facebook
Page: https://www.facebook.com/TheMelissaDelportBookClub
Blog: www.melissadelport.com
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/melissadelport/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/MelissaDelport
Publisher’s
website www.traceymcdonaldpublishers.com
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