Pregnant with the Sheik’s Baby comes out February 19th! Enjoy the introduction stories about Ramzi and Mia below.
Ramzi’s story….
“Your Highness, pay attention!” the tutor snapped.
Ramzi looked up at the man who looked more like a rat than a human. “The answer is sixteen point four-two-nine,” he told the rat-man.
The tutor looked down at his paper, then shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, but that’s the incorrect answer.”
Ramzi sighed and heard his brothers, Turk and Rais beside him doing the same thing. “It’s the right answer. You must have not done the problem incorrectly.”
The tutor’s face turned red with outrage. “You might be…”
“I have the same answer,” Rais commented, trying to mimic his older brother’s bored expression.
Ramzi glanced over at his youngest brother, then at Turk, the second oldest. Both of them were nodding, agreeing with him. Standing up, Ramzi came around to the other side of the tutor’s desk. His eyes quickly skimmed the paper. “Here. You didn’t multiply this correctly,” he stated, then walked out of the school room.
Outside his father’s doorway, he knocked with confidence, knowing that his father always had time for him.
“Enter!” came the booming voice. Ramzi had been trying to imitate that boom, but he knew it would most likely have to wait until he was older and his voice changed.
Walking in, Ramzi immediately spotted his father behind his large desk. A desk that Ramzi knew would one day be his. “Father, we need a new tutor,” he announced without preamble. He hadn’t been aware of his brothers following him out of the school room, but he wasn’t surprised when he felt them bump into his back. He stood firm, trying to look as confident as his father. It was hard because, at nine years old, he wasn’t tall enough. Soon though! He would get there.
Najir looked down at his son with affection. Coming around to the other side of the desk, he waved his son over to the sitting area. “What’s going on?”
Ramzi sighed with relief. He knew that, no matter what was going on, his father always took a moment to listen. “The tutor, father, he messed up a problem. He got the wrong answer.”
Najir nodded his head. “And you think this is grounds to terminate the man?”
Ramzi nodded his head. “I have to be the best, father. You know this. If I’m to be a good ruler, all of the people of Kilar will be looking to me for guidance.”
Najir looked down at his son and pain filled his heart. “That’s a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, son.”
“You have it as well.” But with the look his father was giving him, Ramzi was unsure. “Don’t you?”
“No. I don’t do it all myself,” he explained. “I have a large staff that take on some of that responsibility.”
Ramzi considered his father’s words carefully. “So how do I trust them?”
Najir laughed. “Well, that’s the tricky part. But I think your brothers are going to be a huge asset to you.”
Ramzi sighed. “Turk and Rais are younger than me.”
“Yes, but they can help. And your wife, she will help you as well.”
Ramzi was horrified. At nine years old, he didn’t think that girls were worth his time. “I don’t think so, father.”
Najir smothered his amusement. “Well, I think that time is the only thing that will change your mind in that area. But trust me, women will definitely be creatures that will tempt you.”
Ramzi didn’t believe his father. Not really. He was right about so many things but…girls? Nope, he didn’t believe it.
Mia’s story….
“Maman! Je suis à la maison!” Mia called out as she walked through the door.
Dina Fortelle walked out of the kitchen. “We speak French in the morning and English in the afternoon, dear.” But she bent and kissed her daughter. “How was your first day of third grade?”
“Boring,” she sighed, immediately switching to English although she preferred French. Living in Montreal could be tedious sometimes, having to learn both languages and practice both all the time. Mia preferred French. It was a much prettier language, in her opinion.
Sitting down at the kitchen table, she drank half the glass of milk her mother set down in front of her. “Ms. Michaels tried to get the class to write stories,” she explained, grabbing several grapes.
“One at a time,” her mother cautioned, knowing that Mia might stuff three or four grapes in her mouth at a time. “Writing is very important.”
Mia shoved another grape in her mouth. “Yeah, but no one likes to write stories.”
“What would you do differently?”
Mia tilted her head and considered that idea. “I don’t know. Probably make them all write about friendly monsters.”
Dina chuckled as she stirred the soup which would be for dinner that night. “Why monsters?”
Mia shrugged. “Because that’s what everyone is afraid of. So if we made them friendly, maybe people wouldn’t be afraid of them anymore.”
Dina put the lid on the soup. “Well, that’s a pretty good idea. So what would your monster be like?”
Leaning forward, her eyes widened as she said, “Did you know there are toe monsters under the bed?”
Mia saw the laughter in her mother’s eyes. “I’m serious!”
Dina leaned closer. “Is that why you jump into bed every night?” she asked of her daughter.
Sagely nodding, Mia gulped another grape. “They eat any toes that accidentally move off the side of the mattress.”
“Why do you need to jump into bed then?” her mother asked, trying to be serious but her dark haired daughter was just too cute.
“Because they wake up just when I’m going to sleep. And they are hungry. So I have to get into bed before they are fully awake and alert.”
Dina laughed. “Is that so? Is the toe monster a bit like you when you wake up? All grumpy and growly?”
Mia nodded. “Yes. Exactly.”
“So if you were the teacher, you would get your students to write about a friendly toe monster?”
Blue eyes narrowed, Mia considered that possibility. Then shook her head. “Nope. Toe monsters are too hungry to be nice.” Then her eyes lit up with an idea. “But I could make a nice daddy-monster!”
Dina laughed again before moving back to the kitchen. “Sounds like an outstanding idea,” she told her daughter. “What math homework do you have?”
Mia’s whole body crumpled with those words. “Math is a mental monster,” she grumbled as she leaned back against the wooden chair. She hated math! “When I grow up, I’m going to be a teacher and I won’t make any of my students do any math!”
I hope you enjoyed these stories! If you haven’t already, pre-order the book at your favorite e-book retailer! Amazon iTunes Google Kobo Nook
