The story of Ruis Elder -- a man without psi powers on a world where they are prized. An outcast, Ruis must overcome all society to survive, pursue his passion for restoring ancient Earth technology, and win his love -- Judge Ailim D'SilverFir.
Showing 1-1 of the 1 most recent reviews
1 . Another good one!
Posted September 07, 2010 by Cara C , Beaumont TXI really loved the two main characters, they were admirable and easy to love. It was a sweet story of tender feelings and goodness triumphing.
June 02, 2003
Number of Print Pages*
Adobe DRM EPUB
* Number of eBook pages may differ. Click here for more information.
Excerpt from Heart Thief by Robin D. Owens
Robin D. Owens
Copyright � 2003 by Robin Owens
Druida City, Celta,
400 Years After Colonization, Autumn
Ruis Elder stared out windows that faced the street, checking as he did several times a day that no strangers loitered nearby. No assassins or guardsmen hired by his uncle Bucus.
Ruis's birthright had been denied him--his rank as the Heir and ensuing Lord of a GreatHouse, and the estate itself--something he strove to forget. To remember made him feel worthless. All he chose to recall was that he must always be on guard.
He went to his bedroom and reached through the open window. The wooden drying bar that extended into the courtyard from the rusty brick wall held his last good shirt. He plucked the red silkeen from the hanger.
The chill autumn air made him catch his breath. The deep blue of the sky with the distant small white sun dazzled his eyes. He savored the sweet-sharp tang of turning fall leaves as he turned from the window. The air felt good, and the silkeen shirt sliding over his skin felt better.
He'd moved into this apartment in the heat of late summer, and it was time to leave. He frowned. The intervals between his moves were getting shorter and shorter.
Stamping into new black boots, Ruis let his gaze linger on the Earth Soil Analyzer, brought with the colonists to Celta. The machine would take more time, money, and knowledge to fix than he'd expected. He stopped himself from picking up tools to tinker with it once more. When he worked on ancient machines, he lost himself in the moment, able to forget his wretched past and ignore his precarious future. His fascination with artifacts that no one else cared about was his salvation.
He tore his gaze from the analyzer. Two Earthsun gems shone in the sunlight on the table. Ruis grimaced. Stealing was a fact of his life since his defect in Flair--psi power--precluded any normal work on Celta. When he was able to find a job, it was as a common laborer. And laboring didn't pay enough to rescue the past.
He took the jewels, placed them in a wall crack, and brushed flaking grit from the surrounding bricks to cover the gems. One Earthsun was for emergencies, for bribes and survival if his murderous uncle Bucus found him. The second was to acquire parts for Earth mechanicals, which Ruis collected from the corners of abandoned warehouses. Ruis thought he, alone in every other way, was the only one on Celta who was interested in saving and restoring the old machines.
The door burst open.
Guardsmen poured into the room; two stumbled over each other, sprawling. Ruis lunged, aiming for a beefy man twice his weight. Ruis slammed a fist into the guard's jaw. The man staggered back.
"Get him!" cried a guard with chevrons on his shoulders. The one in charge. Ruis spun to jump at him.
The two on the floor staggered to their feet. The one he had punched lifted his staff.
It whistled through the air, hitting Ruis's head. Pain exploded into white streaks, then darkness claimed him.
Sometime later the blackness receded and the buzzing in his ears solidified into actual voices.
"Just a tap. It was just a little tap," the slack-faced guardsman said in a whining grumble, rubbing his chin. "He'll wake up soon, a minute or two--"
Someone grabbed Ruis's hair and yanked his head up. He grit his teeth against the roiling pain. Sweat coated his body.
A stink of liquor and tobacchew swept over him, making his senses whirl even more. He blinked and saw he was still in his rooms.
"Don' worry, Toady, he's comin' 'round. He's jus' a little more delicate a guy than you're used to tappin'. He's got noble blood in him, ya know."
Ruis was dragged to his feet with a clanking sound that hurt his head. He looked down in horror. Iron manacles clamped his wrists. He'd never seen such shackles--things from the ancient past. The smelly guard held a length of chain as a leash.
Ruis took a step and found himself hobbled by leg irons cutting into his new boots.
Bound and helpless again! His greatest fear. He shuddered, but reminded himself he wasn't a helpless boy anymore. Would the NobleCouncil torture him as Bucus had?