📖First Chapter: The House of Gold by Joni Parker #FirstChapter

Title: The House of Gold (Book 4 in the Golden Harvest Series)

Author: Joni Parker

Publisher: Independent

Publication Date: August 27, 2025

Pages: 359

Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy

Formats: Paperback, Kindle, FREE with Kindle Unlimited

She’s done playing by the rules.

Lady Alexin Dumwalt—Alex to those who know better—just got booted from her mortal-world job. Her response? Return to Eledon, reclaim her title as Keeper of the Keys, and dive headfirst into a mission that reeks of politics and secrets.

Her task: escort Lord Quasar of the Star Elves to Nimbus. Her reality: arrested at Moonbase, locked up by a power-hungry Lord Governor, and caught in a prison break that exposes a gold-smuggling operation buried beneath the surface.

The gold? Stolen from Eledon. The ship? Not what it seems. The Fire Elves? Gone—taken by someone who wasn’t supposed to be watching.

Now Alex is under guard, headed to Nimbus, and neck-deep in a conspiracy that could shatter the fragile balance between Elf factions. She’s got questions, she’s got enemies, and she’s got zero patience for anyone standing in her way.

Magic. Betrayal. One Elf with nothing left to lose.

Read sample.

The House of Gold is available at Amazon.

First Chapter:

On September the first, the company I worked for in Paris changed its name from Echelon, Étienne’s Design Studio, to The House of Gold. For those of us who had been working at the studio for a while, the new name sounded too impersonal, too mundane, and too corporate. Gold wasn’t even this year’s color of choice. But we didn’t have a vote. That decision was made by the new Board of Directors, headed by Philippe Girard. He had just been promoted from assistant business manager to Chief Executive Officer and Chairman of the Board. It helped to be married to Étienne, the Chief Designer, the wonder boy of the fashion world. Within a year of their marriage, Philippe had moved in and taken over the reins, right up to the top.

The main impact of change was a new venue for this fall’s haute couture line. This was where the most creative and interesting designs were presented to the fashion world. In the past, it had been held at Étienne’s Paris mansion, but now, the venue was changed to the new headquarters building in the heart of Paris. Although it had spectacular views of the city, it lacked the charm and intimacy we had before. Still, it was my job to model clothes, not to provide commentary.

Outside of the huge office windows, Paris sparkled as the Eiffel Tower glowed like a rocket, ready to lift off into space. Inside, there was a string quartet, providing scintillating music as the invited guests had cocktails before sitting down for the show. There were only six models for this event—I opened the show and closed it, so I had the most changes to make. The audience loved each design and gave us a standing ovation at the end.   

After the show, I wore one of the dresses to the cocktail party and had to mingle with the crowd to convince them to buy the dress. It didn’t take much convincing. In fact, one woman was so excited she came backstage to buy the dress and had Claudine arrange an appointment for a personalized fitting. With help from Claudine, Étienne met with each client and guided her through the fitting. In the end, the dresses would fit the woman perfectly, so every one of them sold out quickly. His clients loved his personal attention, no matter the cost.

I leaned back in a chair and propped my feet up on a table in the dressing room, knowing my job was done for the night. I could relax, so I wore some casual clothes—a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and my comfortable runners—as I sighed with relief.

Claudine came in and gave me a hug, thanking me for my effort tonight. Several years ago, she discovered Étienne when he was a design student at the College of Art here in Paris. Even as a student, his designs were so innovative and unique she predicted he would change the fashion world. And with her help, he was doing just that. But he was also autistic, too timid and shy to venture out on his own, so she built his business, Echelon, from the ground up. Although she had been in the fashion business for most of her life, she never tasted success until she teamed up with him.

Not only had Claudine discovered Étienne, but she also discovered me when I went to Paris with Vice Admiral Teller and his wife to help them look for their daughter, Suzette. She had gotten a temporary job with Étienne and was supposed to call home every night until she didn’t. When her parents couldn’t reach her, they panicked and went to find her. I went with them since I had never been to Paris before. We stopped at Étienne’s studio and met Claudine, who explained that there had been a security breach at the Paris studio, so Étienne moved everything to his farmhouse, where there was no mobile phone coverage. Before Claudine would give us the address to the farmhouse, she had me model some clothes and recommended to Étienne that he should hire me to model exclusively for Echelon.

Claudine was still in her forties, but Father Time had not been kind to her. She looked much older and had dyed her hair blond in an effort to look young. Her wrinkles showed no matter how much Botox she used, but she always wore the most stylish clothes. She encouraged me to do the same, but I preferred something more casual, like my jeans and a T-shirt.

With our jobs done for the night, Claudine and I went to the real after-show party with the employees of the company. The men and women who made the show happen. They were the ones who took Étienne’s designs and made them real. They cut the fabric, sewed it, ironed it, beaded it (if needed), and fitted it to me or someone else. They were the craftsmen in their field, with years of experience. Most had been there when Echelon started and intended to stay until they retired. They loved their jobs.

In the past, Étienne attended this party, until Philippe came along. Now, they partied with the rich and famous, ignoring those who made the show happen. The workers noticed the change but shrugged their shoulders. They knew who paid the bills.

By the time Claudine and I arrived, everybody was already there. On the telly, they replayed the fashion show, so we could watch it together. We cheered as each new dress was modeled on the runway, and we raised our glasses in a toast for a job well done. At the end, they raised their glasses to me to thank me for modeling their clothes so well.

I blushed and thanked them in French, “Merci beaucoup.”  

“Ah now, she speaks French,” Claudine said in English with a smirk.

I laughed because those were some of the only words in French that I knew. For some reason, I couldn’t get the hang of the language. It wasn’t because I only spoke English. In fact, I spoke five languages,English, Elf (both new and old), Dwarf (Doogan), and Scinthian (ancient Greek). Almost every woman here had tried to help me learn French, but I had yet to get beyond the most rudimentary phrases.

Because of that, they called me, the ‘American.’ Most French people knew that most Americans only spoke English and resented the idea they didn’t even try. When I explained to them that I wasn’t from America, but was from Eledon, they thought I meant El Paso because my foster father was from Texas. And when I mentioned I lived in a city called Meridian, they found it on a map in Texas. Dang it! It was really there.

So, they attributed my lack of ability to speak French and the blue hair in my ears to being an American rather than an Elf. I stopped trying to explain it to them and let them believe what they wanted. And they insisted on introducing me to their sons, or nephews, or even grandsons because at my age, I should be thinking of marriage and having babies, not my career. But like them, I loved my job.

After the second replay of tonight’s show, we drank another toast to something, and someone turned on the music. It made us want to dance. We were happy and upbeat about the success of the fall collection. The reviews had been outstanding, and we were the smash hit of the fall season. The fashion shows of September would set the trends for the next year, sometimes even longer.

Suddenly, Claudine turned off the music and held up her mobile phone, calling attention to something on the screen. I paused, not certain what it was, but the others were pulling out their phones after hearing them chime. Several women screamed when they saw it. So, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and checked it. A text message had come in from Philippe Girard, the CEO. In two words, it said in English:

YOU’RE FIRED!

The letters were in all caps and bold as if he was shouting it at my face. I couldn’t believe it. Who does this? Obviously, Philippe.

“What? I’m fired? What does your phone say?” I asked Claudine.

“Same as yours, but in French.” She turned her phone to me.

“That bastard! He didn’t even thank us for all our hard work.” I glared at my phone and shook my head as my initial shock quickly turned to anger. I’d never been fired before. How dare he? This had to be a mistake because Étienne and Claudine had hand-picked me for this job. Besides, Étienne didn’t have the heart to fire anyone, which was why he kept Claudine around to manage the business. For the past year, she had shared her duties as business manager with Philippe, so he could get to know the business, but she didn’t like Philippe either. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist, thinking of revenge when Claudine squeezed my arm and pointed at my phone.

“Call Andrew to see if he knows. I will call Étienne,” she said.

Andrew was my personal manager and ran the modeling agency in London for Echelon. His job was to set up models for the London ready-to-wear studio and manage my career. I was to work exclusively for Echelon with a five-year contract. Four of those five years had already passed. Étienne had set it up that way with the help of his lawyer, Uncle Louie, because I knew nothing about the fashion business, and Andrew did. Plus, Andrew and Étienne were old friends and had gone to the Paris College of Art together. To help his unemployed friend, Étienne gave Andrew a job in the company. 

When Andrew answered the phone, I asked, “Did you get a message from Philippe?”

“I just got it. What does yours say?”

“I’m fired. He fired all of us, including Claudine. Everyone!”

“Damn fucking bastard! When are you getting back here? We’ve got a lot to talk about,” Andrew said.

“Tomorrow morning. See you then.” I hung up and turned to Claudine. “Andrew got fired, too, so I’ll be going back to London in the morning. Did you get in touch with Étienne?”

“No, he must have changed his number because I got a recording.” She shook her head and stared at the phone. “This is not like Étienne. I also called Philippe, but he did not answer.”

“Oh, wait.” I snapped my fingers. “What about those photoshoots?”

Claudine shook her head. “Not your problem, ma chère. You no longer work for them.” Then she deleted every appointment she had made for a fitting. “And I no longer work for them either. I didn’t even upload these appointments to the main frame.” She grinned at me.

“What we do now?” Tears gathered in my eyes, and I choked back a sob, so I reached out for an embrace. Claudine wrapped me in her arms and patted my back.

“You will be fine, but it will be different for you since you are not a citizen here. We will file a grievance with the union and see what happens. We have done our jobs well, so the company has no reason to fire us. Perhaps, you should go home and see your grandparents in El Paso.”

“I’ll talk to Andrew first. But yeah, I think I will.” Despite being upset about getting fired, I almost smiled when she said El Paso.

The text messages ended the party, and within minutes, everyone left.

When I got to my hotel, I called my friend, Suzette, to check on her. She was shocked to hear about what happened to the Paris office, but the London branch had not been affected since the new head of the subsidiary was a personal friend of Philippe.   

I tried to get some sleep, but the impact of getting fired made me think back to my arrival in the mortal world from Eledon. I had joined a rescue effort at home when five military vessels crashed into the Elf Seas, leaving more than six hundred mortal sailors stranded. The only way for them to get home was to use a ship owned by the Wizard Ecstasy. He took me and the first hundred sailors to London. Vice Admiral Teller was one of the first mortals I met when I got here. Although he believed me when I told him I was part Elf, the other authorities thought I was delusional and dangerous. They shot me, arrested me, and put me in prison. When I used my magical abilities to heal myself, they didn’t believe that either.

After a hearing, the charges were dismissed, and I was free to leave, but I had no way to get home since the Wizard Ecstasy had abandoned me. Luckily, I used my magic to get in touch with Lord Arethus, an Elf friend, who told me the rest of the sailors would be returned through a portal at the Portsmouth Naval Base on the fall solstice. When I told Admiral Teller, he was the only one who believed me and took me to Portsmouth. When the portal appeared, the leader of the Rock Elves, Lord Fissure, came through and told me I had to remain in the mortal world, or he would kill my grandfather, Lord Odin. So, I stayed, and my exile began. And that’s why I needed a job.

I first applied to the Royal Marines with Admiral Teller, since all my training was as a soldier, but they turned me down since I was an Elf. They didn’t know how to explain it. So, I became a fashion model where no one cared if I was an Elf or not. It didn’t require a lot of skills, except wearing high heels, and the pay was decent. It led to a five-year contract with Étienne to be the exclusive model for Echelon. The day after I signed up, my exile from the Elf world ended. Go figure… Upon my return to Eledon, the Elfin Council of Elders gave me special permission to finish my contract, so I stayed in the mortal world, using the portal to return home on occasion. Since then, there were times when I wanted to quit, but now that I had been fired for no reason, I wanted the job back more than ever. 

I had to admit I wasn’t always a perfect employee—I made a few mistakes along the way, like the time I answered my mobile phone on stage during a fashion show. But if they needed me, I was there on a moment’s notice. I filled in for other models in London for Echelon’s ready-to-wear line, when they didn’t show up, or were too drunk, or too high on drugs to work.

Sometimes, I’d work eighteen or twenty hours a day and never complained, although I could have. By law, I was only required to work thirty-five hours a week, but I always put in more time than that. I couldn’t think of an instance when I screwed up so bad it justified being fired. Besides, Étienne liked me, even if Philippe didn’t. But Étienne wasn’t the CEO, just the Chief Designer.

 When I reminded myself that I didn’t have a job anymore, I should have felt relieved since it meant I wouldn’t have to complete the last year on my contract. I could go back to Eledon, back to my job as the Keeper of the Keys for the Council of Elders, and back to my friends and family. The only problem was I really liked it here. I liked the job; I liked the mortals I worked with, and I liked the mortal world in general. Sure, it had flaws, but so did Eledon.

What should I tell my grandparents? The mortals fired me, so I must be a failure. After tossing and turning most of the night, I packed my bags and got ready to leave.

I changed my ticket to leave on the earliest train from Paris and boarded the Eurostar at the Gard du Nord train station in Paris. I stared out the window as the mortal world passed by and checked my phone at least a dozen times to see if that message disappeared. It didn’t. Two hours later, I was in London and called Andrew to let him know I was back.

“We need to talk, love, so stop by my flat,” he said.

***

It took me an hour to get from the train station in northern London to my flat. Andrew and I lived in the same building, but he had a flat three floors below me on the seventh floor. He had found my place for me and convinced me to buy it, so I did, using the money I had earned working as a model for Étienne. I called him as I left the Tube station and headed home.

I had considered renting a place in Paris to be closer to my job, but London was closer to the portal that I used to return home to Eledon. The portal was hidden in the largest park in the city called Hyde Park. Although there were usually people there, the portal was tucked in behind some bushes and wasn’t visible unless I called for it. So far, it wasn’t a problem, even though homeless people slept there.

After I took my luggage to my flat, I went down to see Andrew. He was playing the piano when I got there, so I stood at his door listening for a few moments. He could have been a concert pianist but decided he could make more money in fashion. When I first met him, he had his own fashion design studio in London, but he closed it down when he ran out of money. 

I knocked on the door, and the music stopped. Andrew was a tall, handsome black man, but when he opened the door, he had dark circles under his eyes; his hair was messy, and his clothes looked rumpled. Normally, he was the epitome of style and fashion.

“Are you okay?” I asked him with concern. This wasn’t like him.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just really, really pissed off. I can’t believe what happened. We’ve worked our butts off for that company, and this is what we get.”

“We worked our butts off for Echelon, not The House of Gold.”

“What git thought of that fucking name? It sounds like a goddamn whorehouse.” He clenched his fist; he always swore when he was angry. “Sorry about that.” Then he inhaled deeply and sat down on the sofa, with his head in his hands. “I tried calling Étienne, but all I got was a fucking recording.”

“Claudine and I tried, too, so he must have changed his number. She even tried calling Philippe, and he didn’t answer.”

“Same here.” He clenched his fists. “Fuck!” Then he looked at me and apologized again. “Sorry.”  He inhaled and wiped his face as he paced. “I called a friend of mine last night. Bradley. You remember him, don’t you? He’s a solicitor.”

“The one with the purple socks?”

“That’s him. He said we can file an appeal, but it could take up to a year to process it. Since we’re Brits, we must start it here, and it will go to the European Commission on Labor before Paris sees it.”

“A year? That sucks. I’m so sorry this happened, Andrew. It’s all my fault.” A tear ran down my cheek.

“Hey! You didn’t do anything, love.” He wrapped me in a bear hug. “It was that sonofabitch Philippe.”

“I never liked him, and he didn’t like me from the first moment we met. I should have known this would happen when he was put in charge of everything.”

“It’s not you.” He wiped the tears off my face.

“It must be. He fired the entire staff in Paris, too, Andrew.” I sniffled. “Claudine said they will be filing a grievance in Paris. Maybe theirs won’t take as long.”

“Yeah. That’s good. I’ll take care of filing the appeal, Alex, since your contract is with me. I can’t get you any jobs for now, since I don’t know if the contract with Echelon is still valid. If you want to go home to see your grandparents, you can. Just check back with me in a few months.”

“Okay. I’ll be in touch.” I wiped the tears off my face and gave him a hug.

 Like the group in Paris, Andrew didn’t believe I was an Elf and lived in a place called Eledon because he had seen my passport. When I first arrived in London with the first one hundred sailors, I had been given a British passport. It said I was born in Nyla, S.I., which he thought were the Shetland Islands. He never looked up to see if there was a village named Nyla there. My birthplace had been listed as Nyla because there wasn’t a village where I was born on Seaward Isle in Eledon, and Nyla was the closest village to my father’s fortress. The passport, a work permit, and a hundred pounds were my reward for bringing the sailors home.

Since there was nothing else for me to do here, it was time for me to go back to Eledon. I went to my flat and got a jacket. Then I strolled over to Hyde Park, a couple of miles away to use the portal.

About the Author:

Joni Parker’s story reads like a cross-continental odyssey with grit at every turn. Born in the heart of Chicago, she was just eight when her family uprooted to Japan so her father could chase a dream most wouldn’t dare—becoming a professional golfer. He made it. And when the dust settled, they landed in Phoenix, Arizona, where Joni carved her own path.

After high school, she didn’t just serve—she committed. Twenty-two years in the U.S. Navy, followed by seven more in federal civil service, Joni built a career on discipline, resilience, and a no-nonsense drive to get things done.

Now retired in Tucson, Arizona, she’s traded uniforms for imagination, channeling her fire into writing, devouring books, and catching the sunrise like it’s a daily ritual of renewal. Her stories reflect the same edge she’s lived with—bold, unflinching, and full of heart.

Her most recent book is the science fantasy, The House of Gold (Book 4 in the Golden Harvest Series).

Visit her website at http://www.joni-parker.com or connect with her on Facebook, Goodreads and  Bluesky.

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