THE RED DRAGON by Tianna Xander

THE RED DRAGON by Tianna Xander

Dragon Bound # 8

What’s an older woman do when a handsome dragon decides she’s his? She goes with it.

Emily is seventy-six years old. It's a good thing she looks and feels as though she's only sixty. Otherwise, she might have had a stroke when she visits the site of her love’s resting place. She thinks he's dead. She definitely doesn’t expect him to rise from the ground in dragon form and carry her off as though she's some sacrificial virgin.
 
Whatever she imagined she would find in Scotland, it certainly wasn’t an adventure with a handsome dragon who had chosen to age with her, a well-kept secret revealed, and a new life as an ancient dragon’s most treasured possession.


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EXCERPT

Emily slid from the back of the limousine and stretched. Her old bones didn’t take long trips well anymore. This trip was the longest she’d been on in years. Her doctor would probably have a cow if he found out she went to Europe. At least she wasn’t alone. Her friend, Summer, and her significant other accompanied her, along with two of Summer’s sisters and their husbands.

She stared up at the large castle that loomed before them. Thick ropes of ivy grew over the stone walls, moss grew along the northern side, and it looked as though it had seen better days.

Was this Declan’s house? She didn’t expect him to have neglected his home so thoroughly. Had he really come here when she rejected him? If he had, did he come here to die, or to hole up in the lair she knew all dragon males possessed? Whatever the case, she had to find him. She had to tell him she was sorry she had wasted their lives, their chance at happiness. Her eyes filled with tears when she thought of the loneliness he must have felt all the long centuries he’d lived.

Closing her eyes, she hummed the song he’d taught her. She always felt closer to him with the melody in her mind. He had told her the song was one his mother sang to him when he was young.

After a moment, a strange feeling pulled her, tugged her to her left. Ignoring her companions, Emily opened her eyes and began to walk.

She was about halfway between the neglected castle and a steep cliff when she stopped and looked down. At her feet was a large round stone, shaped like a giant seal with odd-looking letters carved into its surface.

Lowering herself to her aching knees, she reached out, slowly removing the weeds and thick heather that had tried to hide it.

“I wish I knew what it says.” She glanced up at her entourage. Tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Something told her this was where Declan had gone all those years ago, after she rejected him. She stared down at the stone that must have been his grave marker and willed herself not to cry for her lost love. “He’s in there, isn’t he?”

She didn’t want anyone to tell her that he was gone, that she was too late to tell him she was sorry. Still, she needed an answer. She needed closure.

Adrian, Summer’s dragon mate, bent down and rested his hands on his knees. He frowned at the beautiful script before reading it aloud. “Here lies the Red Dragon, red for the rubies he guards and for the passion he holds for his one true mate.”

Emily grasped the center of her chest. The pain would have brought her to her knees if she hadn’t already knelt down upon them. She bent over, sobbing onto the stone that covered the body of the only man she had ever loved.

Her sobs only grew worse when he continued. “Open only if you wish to experience the wrath of Declan Brus. Here he shall remain, resting forever.”

“Okay. I could be wrong, but doesn’t that sound like he’s still alive in there?” Summer’s sister, May moved around the outside of the stone, her mate, Damek, always hovering close.

They didn’t know. They couldn’t feel the deep, heart-wrenching loss she felt at Declan’s absence. Emily had stopped feeling their connection long ago. Then, she had been certain he had found another. Nothing had prepared her to find out that he had willed himself to die. Alone. Like all dragons without a mate, he was always alone.

“It sounds that way to me,” Summer said as she made a circuit around the large, beautifully carved stone. “So, how do we open it?”

What would be the point? Emily wanted to scream at them all. Why bother? They were too late. She was too late. He was dead, which was the only explanation she could think of for why he was buried beneath the earth and his once beautiful castle falling to pieces.

“I don’t know. It is likely that there is something in the castle, but until we can legally get inside, we won’t know anything.” Adrian straightened and stared at the stone structure, standing so forlorn and forgotten. “Do you think there is a caretaker here?” He frowned toward the castle. “If there is, he hasn’t been doing his job keeping the structure in good repair.

“If there isn’t, someone has to be paying the rates and taxes. Otherwise, the government would have seized and sold it by now. I would hypothesize that Declan has someone watching over his home while he’s in mourning.” Damek turned to look at her. “Though you are still with us, he mourns your loss.”

He mourned the loss of his mate and willed himself to die. He was buried here, deep in the ground, and she was too late to tell him she was sorry. Emily buried her head in her hands and sobbed again. Why had she turned him down all those years ago? Why hadn’t she trusted him to love her the way he claimed he did?

The others spoke around her. She was certain that something important was going on around her, but she didn’t care. How could she care when her mate had given up on living because she had rejected him so many years before?

Her heart broke all over again as she knelt atop his grave and cried for all the things that could have been, if only she had been brave enough to love a dragon.

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THE SAPPHIRE DRAGON by Tianna Xander

THE SAPPHIRE DRAGON by Tianna Xander

Dragon Bound # 7

Daisy is one of the strongest of the Flowers sisters. So why does she wish to shun her magic?

Daisy hates magic and would do anything to shun her latent powers. She wants nothing more than to live a normal life. However, with her unorthodox upbringing, she isn’t certain what normal is. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to marry a dragon who would inevitably make her powers stronger.

The Sapphire Dragon knows Daisy doesn’t want to live a magical life, but pursues her anyway. Posing as a human, he’s surprised when she refuses to associate with him at her sister’s party one moment and then decides to have dinner with him in another. How long before she figures out the human male she’s falling in love with is really the dragon she’s trying to escape?

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~Excerpt~

Daisy’s heart skipped a beat as the man looked toward her. He smiled, probably at no one in particular, and began to cross the room. He was handsome in a geeky-bookish sort of way and just her type.

Thick black-framed glasses hid a portion of his face along with a lock of thick, black hair that fell carelessly over his right eye. He almost looked like a comic book super hero come to life. Though, thinking him the superhero type was probably a little ambitious, the man was the epitome of the handsome English lord from all of the romance novels she had ever read. Tall and on the thin side of muscular, he was quite handsome.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him approach. Normal seemed written all over him. If there was anything Daisy wanted from her life, it was normal. She hated witchcraft and she hated the fact that she could screw up something—or someone—at any time, with just a look. However, what she hated the most was the fact that she couldn’t control any of her powers.

The scent of something burning in one of the chafing dishes had her closing her eyes with frustration. She wasn’t sure which one it was, but one of these dragons brought out her powers. She had to get out of here before he found her.

She didn’t want to use her powers, they were dangerous. If she didn’t burn something down, she would freeze it, or worse.

That was the main reason why she kept her wand buried in the back of her underwear drawer, only taking it out and dusting it off when her sisters insisted she must.

She slowly shook her head when she thought of her sisters. She had twelve of them. Every one of them were adopted, just as she had been and every one of them were just as crappy with their spell casting as she was, with the exception of those who had found their mates.

Turning away from handsome Mr. Normal, who still headed her way, Daisy made a face. She didn’t want a mate, not like that. She wanted normal—like the man walking in her direction, with a smile he aimed right at her.

“Hello. I don’t think we’ve met.” The man held out his hand. “I’m Jarrod. I live across the way.” He crooked his thumb behind him and extended his arm again. He clearly wanted to shake her hand.

Around here, across the way, translated into the estate next door.

“Oh. I didn’t think—” She placed her hand in his and blushed when he bent over and kissed the back of it.

Straightening, he laughed. “I’m sure you wouldn’t.” He indicated his worn slacks and button down shirt. He didn’t seem to notice her blush, thank goodness.

She didn’t want to look like some sort of a bumpkin.

“No one thinks I could live in this neighborhood.” He made a face. “Let’s just say it’s old money and leave it at that, shall we? I’ve never really wanted it, but my father thrust it upon me quite against my will.”

His father had probably died and left it to him. Parents had a way of inconveniencing one in that manner. Daisy’s parents had died quite suddenly, leaving her with a condo at the beach. She would rather have had her mother and father than the condo, but there was nothing she could do about it.

None of them had known what would happen when her sister, Rose, had cast that spell. They certainly hadn’t expected her to blow up their parents. They also hadn’t expected to find out that their parents had been quite well off. They left each of their seven sons with a small nest egg and each of their thirteen daughters with a piece of property that suited their personalities and personal needs.

Daisy loved the beach. She always had. It was away from everyone during the off season and the beach season only lasted four months out of the year. It was perfect. She loved the alone time. If she were truthful, she would say she lived for it.

“I can relate.” Daisy gave him a wry smile. If she could understand anything, it was having things thrust upon her—witchcraft, unwanted magical powers, the possibility of harming someone every time she got near a particular dragon. Though, she’d been lucky so far. So far, she hadn’t had a bout of uncontrollable magic like her sisters had…until tonight. “I’ve had a lot of things forced upon me.”

Reaching out, she took his proffered hand. “I’m Daisy, by the way.” She glanced around, trying to find one of her sisters. Usually, one couldn’t swing a cat without hitting one of them. She did have twelve sisters, after all. It was a given that one of them would go tattle to her brother-in-law, Drake, that she was talking with a human.

“So what are you doing here?” She so wanted to reach out, push his sliding glasses back up his nose and brush that lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Oh, the lady of the house invited me when she found out that I had unexpectedly returned from Greece.” He smiled, stuck his hands in the pockets of his expensive-looking, but worn, black slacks and tilted his head toward the door. “Dancing’s not really my thing, but it would be wonderful if we could take a walk in the garden together. The music in here is kind of loud, don’t you think?”

So, he isn’t perfect after all. Daisy glanced toward the door, a little disappointed. She loved dancing. She sighed as she took his offered arm and let him lead her toward the patio door. “That’s too bad,” she said as they headed out on to the veranda. “I love to dance.”

“Well,” he said with a wink, “no one’s perfect. Everyone has some sort of flaw. It’s best we learn to get used to them and move on. Don’t you think?” He grinned, flashing an adorable dimple that made her go weak in the knees.

“Are you okay?” He caught her as she stumbled.

“Um…y-yes.” Good grief! She was stammering now. How adolescent.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up into eyes so blue they appeared to be the same color as the sapphires in the earrings her mother had left to her.

“I’m sorry. I seem to be clumsy today. I don’t know why…” She glanced around as the music changed to a slow dance, and she couldn’t help but wish the man knew how to waltz at least.

“Is there something wrong?” he asked as he pulled her toward a wrought iron bench surrounded by roses. He waited until she sat before seating himself. So…he was a gentleman. That was another tic on the plus side on the list of his attributes—that and his yummy English accent.

Daisy took a deep breath. “I love the smell of roses. Don’t you?” She adored her sister’s gardens here in England and in America. If there was one thing she could say about April’s husband, Drake, it was that he had taste and it wasn’t all in his mouth.

“Yes, I do.” He nodded, his gaze burning over her face. “I think they’re absolutely beautiful.”

Laughing, she asked, “Are we even talking about the same thing?”

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DRAGON'S HEART by LaVerne Thompson

DRAGON'S HEART - STORY OF THE BRETHREN by LaVerne Thompson

Over a thousand years ago Draakar was forced to leave Earth, now he has no choice but to return. The dragon lord, whose world teeters on the brink of destruction, must find his truemate. The one woman with the power and love fated to save them all. The woman he left behind.

Maya Trent was abandoned on Earth, apparently human but so much more and unaware of her duel heritage. Once Draakar awakens her dragon within all she wants to do is kill him. Yet they must work together to save mankind as well as the brethren. But first Draakar has to convince her that the truemate bond between them is real, as is his love for her. She just has to believe in him.

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From fire we’re born, from fire we thrive, from fire we breathe,  

by fire we die.

LEGEND

Once, these majestic beasts soared through the heavens at will. Masters of wind, rain, thunder, and lightning. Favored by Mother Earth and ruling over her domain, but all that happened before man embraced the coming of the one God and Earth magicks slowly disappeared. Or so legend had it.

Once, dragons numbered in the hundreds thousands, but only a handful of hatchlings had been born in a thousand years. Their number slowly dwindled.

Once, predators now prey. With their magic weakening, humans—with the help of one of the brethren’s own—hunted and killed dragons, their mates and any offspring. The survivors of the purges had to leave Mother Earth or die. Earth was no longer safe. Only one place left they could go.

The brethren had to return to the lost land of their beginning by opening a gateway to another realm. Earth was merely one of many worlds existing on parallel planes and those with the knowledge and the power could travel through gateways connecting them but at a great risk. They were unsure how to open such a gate or where they would end up if they succeeded. Memory said it could be done. They had to try or die.

Still, some decided to stay. Earth was home. To remain behind and survive, they would willingly forgo their birthright, forever shed their dragon skin, drain their remaining powers and become fully human.

Some simply wanted to die as dragons on this world. They were too old for change. Dragons had roamed Earth’s skies for ten thousand years. The brethren could not imagine a sky without dragons in flight. Some would not surrender this heritage. They refused to live as anything other than what they were on the planet of their birth.

Before the first of the sun's rays crested the eastern horizon, dragons gathered at their sacred place high in a remote, hard to get to area in the Sperrin Mountains of Erin, an area few humans had ever seen, but every dragon knew. It was a special place, a circle of power controlled by a ring of stones with no name where the first dragon appeared.

Those who would journey in search of the world from whence they began formed a circle around one dragon. The strongest amongst them stood in the center of the stones, his massive twelve foot frame dominating the area. Like the first dragon who opened the portal, a Dark Dragon Lord led them. As dark as the deepest night, as memory said the first Dragon Lord to have been. Unlike other dragons, whose scales shimmered with a spectrum of colors, his scaled massive form seemed to absorb light. No color whatsoever reflected off a hide appearing as smooth as silk but impregnable as titanium.

His raised great head showed a spiked ridge running from the bridge of his nostrils over his skull down the length of his body. Green slitted eyes—the only color on him—filled with emerald fire, looked around at the dragons gathered just within the circle and outside it. He turned so he could survey them all. No great number remained.

His father—their leader—dead, killed by treachery. His mother’s dying roar of rage still echoed in his blood, but before she died she destroyed the one who killed her mate. Draakar had come to their aid too late. He was young for a dragon, but as their son and the most powerful among them, he led now as their Dark Lord, and he would not let the brethren down. But, so few of them were left to lead. So many dead or their magick weak. He could wait no longer.

He’d mated last night, joining with the strongest female amongst the remaining brethren, a mate who could call forth his powers. Draakar hoped it would be enough. He would make sure of it. In one last effort to save their race, he would use his powers to open a portal to another world.

The Dark Lord turned to look down at the smaller golden dragon standing at his side. The realization of what he had done fractured his heart. The pain something he would have to endure for the rest of his long life. The golden dragon was now his mate for life, but not by choice. His sacrifice for the brethren. Their needs over his own.

The dragons gathered channeled all their power to him, helping him open a gate to the beginning world. It had not been done in the time of any dragon alive, there had been no need, but it had been done in the long ago past, and dragons were long-lived with boundless memories. Need drove them to attempt it now. The memories in their blood, passed down to them from the first ancestors, promised it could be done. The first dragons, the forbearers, the ones who came from another place, showed them the way. To a place not of this earth, not of this world.

Now the Dark Lord and his remaining brethren used those memories as a guide to their realm of origin. They dug deep within themselves to the part of their souls still binding them to a past left behind. From a time so long ago, no dragon living remembered this place, yet no living dragon could forget its existence. Time to go home, back to their beginnings. Home to the birthplace of fire, the birthplace of the heart of the dragon—Akgon. They had to return home to survive. The time of dragons on earth was over.

As the sun glistened high in the sky, above the Dark Dragon Lord the very air trembled, a swirling gray cloudy mass appeared. They had done it, created a portal, but the Dark Lord had to maintain it. The only one strong enough to do so. He had to hold it open till all who wanted to go crossed over. One by one the dragons flew through and disappeared within the cloud until he remained the last of those who wanted to leave. Before leaving he tried one last time, sending a mental plea to his brethren who watched from the ridge. His great body shuddered with exhaustion from using such strong magicks but, by will alone, he would hold the gate open a while longer.

Come with us. It is not too late.

A unanimous response to his plea floated into his consciousness. No. But we wish you all a safe journey.

The Dark Dragon Lord had no choice. Even his great strength could not hold the gate open much longer. Then I wish you speed beyond the wind. Goodbye.

With a heavy heart for those electing to stay, for the life they left behind, Draakar raised his wings and followed his remaining brethren through the gate. A bright flash of silver lightning appeared to swallow him as he crossed over. The swirling cloud folded in on itself, forever closing the gateway behind him, leaving a faint scent of smoke upon the air.

The ones staying behind had little time for regret, much too late for that. Their combined strength would not equal the power of a Dragon Lord, and rarer, even those magicks available to the Dark Dragon. Only three had been born in their thousands of years on earth. Two were dead and the last survivor now gone.

With the sun hovering above the other horizon, casting the sky in a purple haze, the day ended. Tomorrow would be a new beginning. Those who chose to forsake their brethren heritage and become human shed their dragon skin for the last time. They changed as they turned, walking away from the stones on human legs, using the last of their magic to get down the mountain. A few others spread their iridescent wings and took to the heavens, one more time. For a short time, for the last time, dragons rode the currents in the night sky until those too were gone.

Gone to die.

Those who chose life joined with humans and never passed down the secret of their dragon ancestry to their offspring.

The dragon blood lay dormant. Even those with great promise of magicks were never taught. Those brethren now lived human lives, with human life spans. They had given up their magic. Finally, all who remained to teach their offspring and to show them the way of the dragon passed from life. And while the blood passed from generation to generation, weak in some, strong in others, it did not stir. There was no one left to call to it. Dragons became a thing of myth and legend. A fairytale.

Yet the dragon blood waits…it sleeps…

Waiting.

Waiting.

Dragons are known for their patience.


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DRAGON'S MOON by Lucy Monroe

DRAGON'S MOON by Lucy Monroe

Children of the Moon Book Four

Bestselling author Lucy Monroe returns to her “stunningly sexy” paranormal world where one woman has but one choice for her people’s salvation—her sworn enemy...

 

When Eirik, the only living dragon shifter, and prince of the Ean, killed her brother, Ciara was left alone to face her prophetic dreams. Now, in order to find the wolves’ sacred stone and save all the Chrechte from destruction, she needs her enemy’s help.

 

Eirik was only protecting the children of his people, but that day in the forest left a mark on him as well. Controlling his dragon’s fire is the most difficult thing he’s ever done—until he and Ciara are forced to face not only their shared tumultuous past, but a hallowed bond stronger than they realize. As avowed enemies and predestined mates, their quest ushers them into a world of great danger, and a passion hotter than the dragon’s fire.

 

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Excerpt

Her legs dangling over the stone edge, Ciara waited atop the lower bailey tower. One of two in the lower half of the wall surrounding the Sinclair fortress, it was the perfect vantage point for her first glimpse of the newcomers that would join her adopted clan. She was not supposed to be here, but it was a favored spot for her to find both privacy and peace. Most of the clan had gathered in the lower bailey both yesterday and today for the same purpose, but Ciara did not like the crush of so many around her. There was no crowd now. The humans and other Chrechte had gone home, disappointed once again when night fell with no sign of the newcomers. But Ciara waited as the moon rose, unable to return to the keep — her need to see these new clanspeople too strong to deny. As a member of the Faol, she had been told those coming were Chrechte; she strongly suspected they were Éan. Her dreams were not all nightmares and she had seen the birds in the sky shifting back to human form and donning the plaid of the Sinclair. Were these Chrechte refugees like her, looking for a new life among the Sinclair? Ciara hadn’t actually been looking toward anything when she came to live with Laird Talorc and his lady, Abigail. Numb with grief after her mother’s death so close on top of her dear brother Galen’s grisly demise, Ciara had simply done as she was told. Laird Barr had informed her she needed a new life without so many memories around her and Ciara had accepted his instruction in action, if not in her heart. She’d come to live among his former clan, the Sinclairs, without a single argument. What had there been to argue? Ciara had no family any longer, no loved ones to hold her among the Donegal. She had spent the past seven years doing her best to serve her new clan, though her old one would not recognize her. Gone was the stubborn girl who loved her family and people with every passionate fiber of her heart. Ciara did her best to feel as little as possible; she had no desire to love with a devotion that could so easily destroy her again. Laird Barr’s hope that she might forget painful memories more easily away from all that was familiar had proven fruitless, but she did not blame his plan. The memories were burned into Ciara’s mind with a dragon’s flame; it was impossible for her to ever forget or feel completely safe again. That fateful day in the forest and what followed lived inside her in a maelstrom of grief, awe, confusion, disbelief and sometimes utter terror. Not that she ever let these feelings come fully to the surface, but Ciara often woke in the night to her brother’s final scream, only to realize it had been her own. She dreamt of blood soaked walls and a waxen faced woman searching their cottage for son and husband that would never again be there. Ciara was grateful for the stone walls that kept her nightmares private, but she was even more thankful that far from forcing Ciara to marry when she came of age, Laird Talorc and his second, Niall, frightened off any prospective suitors. Chrechte and human alike. Laird Talorc and Abigail treated Ciara like a cherished member of the family, to be protected and watched over. She knew they thought she was broken. Too broken to be forced to mate. She did and said nothing to dissuade them of that belief. She wanted no true family to lose again; she had no desire to ever marry or have children that could be taken from her by that undefeatable enemy, death. She hoped she never met her mate, or that he was already committed to another. Helping to care for Abigail and Talorc’s twins, now in their fourth summer, was difficult enough. The boys did their best to worm their way into Ciara’s heart. It took all her stubborn resolve not to let herself love them. And deep inside, in a place she refused to acknowledge, she feared she already did...even more than she feared the dragon that had killed her brother. Shaking off her thoughts, she peered through the moonlit night, seeking out her first glimpse of the Éan soon to join their clan. She wasn’t supposed to know about the Éan at all. No one, but a select few were. And Ciara, better than most, understood why. However, it was not her fault she knew many things she should not. Even without the eavesdropping. Her dreams and visions had grown more frequent since she had seen the scarlet dragon breathing fire from the sky. And of late, the Faolchú Chridhe called to her even more insistently than her dead brother’s screams and mother’s spilled blood. Ciara rarely slept, and when she did sleep it was to dream, each dream growing more fraught with urgency than the last. She could not eat because that urgency followed her into wakefulness, making her stomach tight and filling her with dread she did not understand. Ciara did not know what to do. Perhaps it was time to tell another soul about the existence of the wolves’ stone. Would that knowledge be safer in Laird Talorc’s hands than it had been in Galen’s? Pain sliced through Ciara at the probability it would. Galen had wanted the power of the stone to destroy the Éan. Laird Talorc would want it to help them. In her silent, stealthy wanderings around the keep, Ciara had heard enough to know this to be true. She knew Talorc was aware of her presence. He was a wolf with a wolf’s senses, but he never scolded her. Maybe he knew she had no one to tell the secrets she overheard. The faint sounds of multiple horses had Ciara looking up and dismissing all thought of secrets and the Faolchú Chridhe for now. A group of perhaps twenty people riding on horseback came into view. She watched intently as they rode closer and closer to the fortress without being challenged. It had to be the Éan. They got close enough, that with her wolf’s eyesight, she could tell that some wore plaids, while others wore clothing made of tanned hides and fur. The huge warrior that led them wore what looked like a kilt made of leather, wide cuffs at his wrist of the same and a strap around his bicep that held a wicked looking knife. He wore his long sword in another scabbard on his back, the hilt sticking up over his left shoulder. The leather strap holding it in place bisected his otherwise naked chest — a chest devoid of hair but rippling with muscle. A medallion of some kind glinted in the moonlight, hanging from a leather cord around his neck. He wore no boots, but sandals that wrapped around and laced at his ankles. They almost looked like what the Roman soldiers of ancient times had worn. She’d seen drawings carved into cave walls in her search with her brother for the Faolchú Chridhe. Was this warrior Éan? He was bigger than those he rode with, at least a head taller than any of the other men. Giant, she would guess he stood even taller than the Laird’s second-in-command, Niall, and easily as broad. Ciara had not thought Éan warriors large like that. Certainly they were not in her dreams. The Éan were strong, but in her dreams they were smaller in build to the Faol. Her brother always claimed they were the smallest of the Chrechte peoples too. Galen had said it sneeringly, but being so much smaller than him herself, Ciara had wondered why he found the difference so worthy of disgust. This man was not undersized in any way and he had the regal bearing of a king. How would he tolerate Talorc’s leadership? Would the huge warrior challenge her laird, the man who considered himself her father? Anxiety spiked through her as the new Chrechte moved closer. Mere feet from the drawbridge that was still down on Laird Talorc’s order, the lead warrior’s features became distinct. And all the air in Ciara’s lungs escaped in one long exhale. This man who meant to become a Sinclair was breathtaking, though his expression was as fierce as the glint in his amber eyes. Eyes that glowed with Chrechte power, even in the moonlight. A jawbone that looked hewn from rock was set in stern lines, his neck and shoulders held in arrogant rigidity that warned danger for any who crossed him. Atavistic fear pressed against her solar plexus, making it hard to draw breath. The warrior lifted his head, a gaze even keener than her own honing in on Ciara with unerring accuracy. He should not be able to see her tucked up against the wall as she was, but she knew he did. He did not look away either. Nor could she. Never before had she felt such a connection with another. Her wolf whispered a word she refused to hear, her mind whirling with thoughts she was determined never to have. Unable to break gazes with the warrior and yet unwilling to remain as she was, Ciara surged to her feet. The nights without sleep, the days she had eaten less than enough to sustain a sparrow much les a wolf caught up with her in that one confusing moment. Swaying on her feet, she tilted forward. She jerked back, but overcompensated and one foot slipped out from beneath her. Suddenly, unbelievably, despite her wolf’s grace, she pitched forward. She tumbled into the night air, her hands scrabbling for purchase on the stone, one finger connecting. She tried to make it two, to get a better grip, but she could feel her fingertips giving way even as she did so. She refused to let the joints unbend, but she could feel blood welling around cuts in her fingers from the stone. The wetness proved her undoing. No amount of will could force her fingers to hold as the wet blood made them slip and she fell. Her wolf howled as she tried to shift, hoping against all to live. But it was not the hard ground that broke her fall. Sharp talons curled around her body, warm scales that felt like living chainmail pressed against her face and suddenly she was not falling, but flying upward. In the arms of a dragon. That was the last her tormented mind could take. Ciara welcomed the black oblivion as it came. LIKED THE EXCERPT?? CLICK HERE TO BUY THE BOOK

THE EARTH DRAGON by Tianna Xander

THE EARTH DRAGON by Tianna Xander

Dragon Bound Book Four

When a dragon and a witch travel to Alaska in search of a plant thought long extinct, the result is…magic.

When the larger than life dragon buys the Purring Pussycat to get May out of her dancing contract, May is sure she’s in trouble. When she refuses his suit and he kidnaps her to take her to the wilds of Alaska, she knows she is. How can she convince Damek that she’s not attracted to large, muscular men, especially when she can’t seem to stop looking at him?

When Damek follows May to her place of employment, he knows exactly who she is—his mate. When she refuses his offer of marriage, he does the only thing he can. He kidnaps her and drags her to Alaska with him where he must search for a plant long thought extinct to reverse the effects of Dragonkin’s potent aphrodisiac, Dragon’s Desire.

Will the strong-willed pair overcome their differences before they return to her home, or will Damek regret even staking his claim?

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~Excerpt~

Walking to her window, she looked out over the grounds at the back of the house. With the swimming pool and patio just outside the sliding glass doors in the great room, to the lush, trimmed gardens beyond, she could have loved this place. Well, that is, if it weren’t for the fact that she felt like a prisoner here.

With a sigh, May went to her dresser and pulled out her bikini. It was the one she bought on a whim while visiting one of the expensive shops April had taken her to. She smiled when she held it up in front of herself to look in the mirror. She’d never even tried it on. She bought it at April’s suggestion that it might make her feel better to make Drake pay two-hundred dollars for a scrap of material barely big enough to cover the pertinent parts.

April had been right. The little scraps of white material, covered in yellow polka-dots, at least made her smile. She didn’t smile because of what it cost her brother-in-law, she smiled because she was now the proud owner of a teeny yellow polka-dot bikini.

Still smiling, May undressed and donned the swimming suit. What the heck? If she couldn’t go anywhere, she could at least take a dip in the pool and get some sun on her white legs.

She’d just closed her bedroom door, when she heard one of her sisters ask, “Going for a swim?”

May turned to give Ginger a sideways glance. “Uh, no. As a matter of fact, I was just going to church. Wanna come?”

“Okay. I deserved that one,” Ginger said with a giggle. “Though, I wouldn’t mind worshipping at the chlorine temple myself.” She hooked her arm around May’s and pulled her along beside her. “Will you wait for me to change?”

“Of course.”

Nothing was worse than swimming alone. Though Drake had cameras all over the place, and security personnel, it didn’t mean she wanted to be out there by herself.

What if something happened and she got a cramp in the deep end? What would she do other than drown? She was safer with one of her sisters along. Every one of the Flowers children had taken water safety courses.

While water magic was common, their parents had insisted that each of them learn safety measures. In fact, all of them had lifeguard jobs in the summer while they were in school.

For some reason, their parents had feared for their safety when around lakes—they never did figure out why.

May was glad for her sister’s company. She hadn’t been looking forward to swimming alone. The last thing she wanted was Drake’s security personnel ogling her while she was getting in a few laps. At least with Ginger there, they would most likely look solely at her sister if they decided to hang around.

Drake never used to have security patrolling the grounds inside the walls until her sisters, Rose and Tansy, climbed a tree and snuck out over the eight-foot tall brick enclosure. After that fiasco, he posted guards to keep the unattached Flowers sisters in as much as keep others out.

“Can you hurry? I need to get out of this house before I go mad,” May said as they entered Ginger’s room. Like May’s room, it was large. However, that’s where the similarities ended. May’s room was lavender with an ivy border just below the crown molding. This room was light blue, almost the same color as Ginger’s eyes, with some sort of pink, flowery plant decorating the top few inches of the wall. Even the furniture was different.

Sitting down on Ginger’s bed, she waited while Ginger hurried into the bathroom she shared with her twin, Ivy, to change.

“What do you think?” Ginger asked when she strode out of the bathroom. Holding her arms out, she slowly turned around.

“I think all of the guards are going to have heart attacks. That’s what I think,” May said with a snort. “Heck, next time, just try a few strategically placed adhesive bandages. I think they’d cover more and they come in a variety of prints and colors.”

Ginger’s bikini was little more than a few pieces of string. It consisted of two half saltine-sized crocheted triangles that barely covered her nipples and the bottom was a thong with a similarly sized triangle to cover her nether regions.

“If they want to look, let them.” Ginger grinned and waggled her brows. “No one ever said I was a good girl anyway.”

“Well, I certainly never said you weren’t a good girl.” May glared at her sister. “Do you think people talk about you behind your back or something?”

“I never said that.” Ginger ran back into the bathroom and grabbed her cover-up. They didn’t need towels. Drake had a towel rack and pool house just off the patio. The Flowers had never been what May would have called poor, but this…this house was simply decadent.

Following Ginger, they made their way down to the first floor and out through the French doors in the great room and into the sunlight.

The men on the ground watched them both suspiciously. It was as though they thought the two women planned to climb over the tall brick walls wearing nothing more than bikinis. Perhaps they hoped they would try so they could watch. Who knew?

Ginger immediately made her way over to the outside stereo and turned it on. Classic rock poured from the speakers as they both circled the pool with a critical eye.

“What do you think? Do we test the water or just jump in and take our chances?”

May grinned. “I think we could just jump in.”

“You would,” Ginger said with a snort. “You always loved just plowing into the water when Mom and Dad took us to Lake Superior. That water is almost ice cold.” She rubbed her arms as though remembering.

“Well, you asked.” May stepped back a few paces and took a running leap into the large pool.

Cold water closed over her head and she let out a little giggle. Ginger would screech when she jumped in.

“You bitch. You knew I would take that as a challenge.” Ginger laughed and leaped into the pool. She came up sputtering. “It’s cold. It’s so cold!”

“I think it feels great.” May swam a few laps, then turned over onto her back to look at the sky. “I could stay here all day.”

“Me, too.” Ginger sighed as she floated next to her. “I wish we could go to the lake.”

“Yeah, me, too.” May knew they couldn’t. As far as the dragons were concerned, taking the women to the lake would be a logistical nightmare, security wise.

“Well, we’ll just have to close our eyes and pretend we’re there.”

“I guess.”

“What did you think of that big dragon who bought the Pussycat?”

“I think he was okay. He was very handsome in the face, but he was too big.” May frowned. “You know how I feel about muscle-bound men. Yech.”

“I don’t know if I should feel insulted or flattered.”

May’s body stiffened, her body sinking beneath the surface. She came up sputtering and glared at the man in question. “What are you doing here?”

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Lexxie Couper Kicks Off Her New Dragon Shifter Series With Ellora's Cave

TY THE SEXY DRAGON by  Lexxie Couper

Fire Mate, Book One

Life isn't easy for a modern-day dragon shifter. Unlike those wuss werewolves, dragons can't just shift and go for a run through the nearest forest. They can't go flying on a whim. Forget about scared villagers slinging arrows; these days it's Neighborhood Watch zealots with AK-47s. Then there's the whole sex issue. Try telling the little cutie at the local Starbucks that a soul-shattering orgasm might end in bed flambé.

No, being a dragon shifter kinda sucks. And for Tyson, it's even worse - because he's suddenly in heat. Bad news for the stranger he spies running along Bondi Beach. Ty instantly recognizes Sera as his mate. Now he has to convince her, while also dodging the psychopathic dragon hunter on his tail. Scorching sexual persuasion should do the trick. Hopefully. Because if Ty doesn't join with his Fire Mate before his heat cycle finishes, bad things will happen. Lots of bad things.

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An Excerpt From: TY THE SEXY DRAGON

Copyright © LEXXIE COUPER, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

A stranger’s tongue was in Sera’s mouth. In her mouth.

Holy smack, a stranger’s tongue was in her mouth! Rolling and sliding over her tongue. He was kissing her. No, not just kissing her. He was fucking her mouth. Making goddamn love to her mouth with his tongue while something long and thick and wicked hard that was most likely an impressive erection poked at her belly, and what was she doing?

Now he was cupping her right breast in a strong, kneading caress, teasing her hard nipple—and what the hell was she doing?

Was she fighting him off? Was she pushing him away and kicking him in the balls? Was she letting Hannibal rip said kicked-in balls off?

No. She was standing there like a skanky ho, letting him. His tongue was practically playing with her tonsils and she wasn’t putting up a fight. Far from it. She was kissing him back. Her tongue was stroking his, her lips were parted and she was kissing him back big-time. Holy smack, she was even moaning.

What the hell was wrong with her? It was like she had lost control of herself the second the guy smacked into her. Shit, even her hands had strayed to his chest—his broad, hard, smooth chest that seemed to burn under his light-cotton shirt with a heat that should have screamed fever! But instead it made her pulse quicken, her pussy throb and her tongue stroke his some more.

This had to be some random act of impulsive seduction. Like the guy in New York who gave out hugs, except this guy gave out mind-blowing, tonsil-stroking kisses. Had to be.

She had to stop him.

Except she didn’t have to. Someone else did.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a man barked to her right, a second before the tongue-fucking stranger was hauled backward. “There’s none of that here.”

Something growled. An animal. A big animal.

Sera snapped her gaze to Hannibal, but her cousin’s dog was just sitting at her heel, licking his balls.

She jerked her gaze back to her stranger—her stranger?—and almost let out a yelp.

She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before, just remembered a quick flash of hunky, dark yumminess a second before he slammed into her. Now he stood glaring at the cop still holding his arm, very much still hunky and yummy, with his dark, floppy hair, equally dark straight eyebrows and dark-dark eyes—but also very much frightening. Menacing. Malevolent.

As dark and hunky and yummy as he was, he looked like he was about to rip the head off the cop who suddenly didn’t seem to appear as brave and determined and authoritarian as he had a second ago. Now the cop looked scared.

Scared of her stranger. The guy who had come out of nowhere, kissed her until she moaned and was currently glaring at the cop, nostrils flaring, chest heaving, growling in an utterly inhuman way that turned Sera’s pussy to liquid.

Oh God help her, she’d just French-kissed a psychopath. And was horny about it.

“Y-you can’t…” the cop stammered, stumbling back a step.

Her growling, nostril-flaring stranger sucked in a breath and swung his gaze back Sera. “I can smell your want.”

The claim was a low murmur through barely parted lips. His eyes seemed to glint, another growl rumbled in his chest and, with a shudder unlike any Sera had ever seen, he turned and sprinted away. Through the bustling footpath toward the crowded sands of Australia’s most famous beach.

He didn’t slow. He didn’t deviate from his path. He ran straight for the water, stripping his shirt as he went and splashing into the surf, still wearing his cargo shorts. He dove under the first breaking wave.

Gone.

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