Read Online Books/Novels:

The Kingmaker (All the King’s Men Duet #1)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Kennedy Ryan

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
1732144346 (ISBN13: 9781732144347)
Book Information:

๐™‹๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ง. ๐™‹๐™–๐™จ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ. ๐˜ฝ๐™š๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฎ๐™–๐™ก.

๐—ฅ๐—œ๐—ง๐—”ยฎ ๐—”๐˜„๐—ฎ๐—ฟ๐—ฑ-๐˜„๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ฎ๐˜‚๐˜๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฟ ๐—ž๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ป๐—ฒ๐—ฑ๐˜† ๐—ฅ๐˜†๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ฒ๐—ฝ๐—ถ๐—ฐ ๐—ณ๐—ถ๐—ฟ๐˜€๐˜ ๐—ถ๐—ป๐˜€๐˜๐—ฎ๐—น๐—น๐—บ๐—ฒ๐—ป๐˜ ๐—ผ๐—ณ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—”๐—น๐—น ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—ž๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ดโ€™๐˜€ ๐— ๐—ฒ๐—ป ๐——๐˜‚๐—ฒ๐˜.

Raised to rule, bred to lead and weaned on a diet of ruthless ambition. In a world of haves and have nots, my family has it all, and I want nothing to do with it.

My path takes me far from home and paints me as the black sheep. At odds with my father, Iโ€™m determined to build my own empire. I have rules, but Lennix Hunter is the exception to every one of them. From the moment we meet, something sparks between us. But my family stole from hers and my father is the man she hates most. I lied to have her, and would do anything to keep her. Though she tries to hate me, too, the inexorable pull between us will not be denied.

๐˜ˆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฆ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ ๐˜ธ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ญ ๐˜.

Books in Series:

All the King’s Men Duet Series by Kennedy Ryan

Books by Author:

Kennedy Ryan Books

โ€œMy mother was my first country.

The first place I ever lived.โ€

โ€“ โ€œlandsโ€ by Nayyirah Waheed, Poet & Activist

Prologue

Lennix โ€“ Thirteen Years Old

My face remains unchanged in the mirror, but my eyes are older.

Older than the last time I stood in my bedroom with its pink canopy bed and the Princess Barbies shoved to the back of my closet. Posters of NSYNC and Britney Spears still plaster the walls, but right now I canโ€™t recall one lyric. The songs of my forefathers, and their fathers before them, fill my head. Ancient songs with words only we knowโ€”the songs we had to reclaim, cling to my memory. They ring in my ears and hum through my blood. The ceremonial drum still beats in place of my heart. A womanโ€™s spirit occupies this girlโ€™s body with my barely budding breasts and baby-fat cheeks. Iโ€™m still only thirteen years old, but in the four days of my Sunrise Dance, the rite of passage that carried me from girl to woman, it feels like Iโ€™ve lived a lifetime.

I am not the same.

โ€œHow ya doing, kiddo?โ€ my father asks as he and my mother walk into my bedroom. Seeing them together has been a rare occurrence lately. Actually seeing them together has been rare for a long time.

โ€œIโ€™m fine.โ€ I divide my smile between them into equal portions, like I do with holidays and my affection. Split right down the middle. โ€œTired.โ€

Mama sits on the bed and pushes my hair back with long, graceful fingers.

โ€œThe last few days have been hard for you,โ€ she says, offering a rueful smile. โ€œNot to mention the last year.โ€

We started planning the Sunrise Dance months ago. With enough food to feed everyone involved for days, gifts, getting the traditional dress made, and paying the medicine man and the ceremonial dancers, itโ€™s a long process that is not only exhausting, but expensive.

โ€œI wouldnโ€™t change a thing,โ€ I reply. My knees ache from the kneeling, from dancing on my knees and on my feet. I danced and I sang for hours, led through the words by the medicine man. And the running. Iโ€™ve never run so much in my life, but when I ran in the four directions, I gathered the elementsโ€”earth, wind, fire, and airโ€”to myself. Iโ€™ve absorbed them. Theyโ€™re part of me and will guide me the rest of my days.

โ€œI know youโ€™re exhausted,โ€ Mama says. โ€œBut are you up to seeing a few people? Theyโ€™ve walked with you the last four days, and are all so proud.โ€

Despite the fatigue, I smile. My friends and family rallied around me, not just during the last four days, but for the months leading up to my Sunrise Dance. It is a huge deal, not only for me, but for the entire community.

โ€œSure.โ€ I run my hands over the supple buckskin of my ceremonial dress and moccasins. โ€œDo I have time for a quick shower?โ€

The medicine man dusted my face with cattail pollen as part of the blessing near the end of the ceremony. Even though it was rinsed away, I still feel the traces of it and the last four days on my skin and in my hair.

โ€œOf course,โ€ my father says. Thereโ€™s pride in his gray eyes. Though not Apache, he was involved with the ceremony and observed every step. As a professor of Native American Studies at Arizona State, though the traditions donโ€™t belong to him, he understands and deeply respects them.

โ€œEveryoneโ€™s eating out front and enjoying themselves,โ€ Mama says. โ€œTheyโ€™ll keep while you get clean.โ€

My parents exchange a quick look, seeming to hesitate together. It catches my attention because theyโ€™re rarely in sync, despite having once been passionately in love. My father had been a student studying reservation life. My mom lived on the rez in the same modest house weโ€™re in right now. It was fireworks for a while. Long enough to make me.

Maybe the fireworks sputtered. Maybe my parents were too different, my mother wanting to remain on the reservation, connected to her tribe and this community. My father, a rising star in the department when he completed his doctorate, needed to be at the university. They drifted so far apart they broke. Now, Iโ€™m their only connection. Things havenโ€™t been exactly contentious between them, but they have disagreed a lot lately, mostly about me.

โ€œToday was a landmark for you,โ€ Mama says carefully, again sharing that quick look with my father as if she needs reassurance. โ€œYouโ€™re a woman now. The spirit of Changing Woman has made you strong.โ€

I nod. Iโ€™ve never been that religious. My mother doesnโ€™t practice all the traditions, but today I did feel a surge of strength during the ceremony. Somehow I actually believe the spirit of the first woman empowered me. I still feel that zing along my nerves I couldnโ€™t shake even after the ceremony ended.