Not His Dragon
Not This Series, #1
by Annie Nicholas
Date of
Publication: July 2016
Publisher:
Annie Nicholas
Cover
Artist: Janet Holmes
Genre:
Paranormal Romance
Tagline: Here be dragons.
BLURB
Eoin Grant hasn’t encountered a
female of his race in decades, and this crazy person’s scent declares her
unmated. Fate set her in his path, and he won’t let this opportunity slip
through his claws. No matter how wary she is of him. After all, how many
chances does a dragon have at finding love? But fate can be a crueler mistress
than his perfect mate. Of all things, she thinks she’s human.
Business is taking off for Angie
Weldon. She put her freakishly sharp nails to good use when she opened her
back-scratching spa in downtown New Port. The local shifter community pounced on
her skills and she’s knee-deep in shed fur. By the end of the year, if lucky,
she could afford to move out of her crappy apartment.
Dollar signs flash before Angie’s
eyes when a dark, brooding stranger books her solid for a week but she notices
the possessive fury in his glare. She’s been around enough shifters to know the
look, and she won’t go down that road again. Angie is literally swept off her
feet by the intense shifter and he wants more from her than she’s willing to
give. She figures it’s best to avoid eye contact and back away slowly. Until he
changes her life by insisting she’s a dragon.
On Sale for 99 cents until 7/1/17
Buy Link: Amazon
Only one
block separated Angie from her workplace. Her lungs burned. No matter how much
air she sucked in, there didn’t seem to be enough oxygen.
A tall,
slim man smoking a cigarette watched her from half a block away.
How did
she notice him in her state of asphyxiation? Because his pale, blue gaze cut
across the distance and met hers with such intense fury that it scorched her
retinas.
She
slowed her pace, glancing over her shoulder, but saw no one. Why was she the
focus of his death glare? Maybe he was friends with the jackass in the truck
who’d cat-called her and didn’t appreciate her attempt at sign language? If so,
he could take a number and get in line with all the other things wanting to
destroy her life today.
As Angie
jogged closer, she couldn’t help but notice the brightly colored tats peeking
out from under his long-sleeved dress shirt. His business attire looked out of
place with his shaved head and a cigarette hanging from his lips. He’d never be
the poster boy for GQ Magazine, but he sure fit her bad boy fantasies.
He strode
into her path, blocking her way. “What are you doing here?”
She tried
to brake, but flip-flops weren’t made to stop on a dime. The front ends folded
under and she scraped the tips of her toes along the concrete sidewalk. “Mother
fucker, son of a bitch…” She hopped on one foot to rub her bloody toes, then
repeated the process on the other foot. “What’s wrong with you?” She planted
her hands on his chest and shoved, propelling herself backward.
Pinwheeling
her arms, she caught her balance. Great, a supernatural. She had a better
chance of pushing the Hanover Tower.
He
grabbed her upper arm and yanked her kissing-close. “Don’t do that again.”
Her blood
smeared across his white shirt where she’d laid her dirty hands. She couldn’t
help but notice a small blue symbol tattooed by his left eye. From this angle,
she couldn’t see the design completely.
Try as
she might, she couldn’t jerk her arms free. Her heart hammered. “Let go.” She
glanced around for help, but no one seemed to want to meet her desperate stare.
They crossed the street, gazes glued to the ground. The pedestrian population
thinned out quickly as many of them found stores they just had to enter. The
scent of fear filled the air and only some of it was hers.
“What are
you doing in my city?” His whispered question sent chills down her spine.
“Your
city? No one owns New Port.” Oh God, she couldn’t stop her mouth. All she had
to do was apologize profusely for whatever imagined transgressions and he’d
most likely let her go. Angie stared at the shaved dark stubble on his head,
since she couldn’t take his penetrating glare. He kept his hair cropped real
close. Almost like velvet. She caught her hand before she reached to touch him.
Her senses said he was some sort of shifter, but she couldn’t tell what. She
suspected she had a little supernatural blood in her lineage, so her skills
were limited. Definitely not werewolf. Her ties to the pack were close enough
that she knew them at least by sight.
Unfortunately,
humans didn’t hold the monopoly on criminals. Supernaturals had them too and
Ryota had shown her how to best defend herself. She slid her free hand into her
front pocket. “I said, let me go.” She gave her arm another jerk.
He gave
her a condescending smile that would have frozen the Eastern Ocean. “Or what?”
She
withdrew her hand, aimed at his face, and pulled the trigger on her pepper
spray, remembering at the last moment to close her own eyes and mouth.
He let go
and roared an inhuman sound. The noise rattled the windows. She thanked God
that she’d emptied her bladder before setting the kitchen on fire.
Shit,
shit, shit.
She
geared her ass to holy-shit-it's-going-to-eat-me speed and didn’t think the
soles of her flip-flops hit the ground until she reached the door to her own
little business.
On Sale for 99 cents
until 7/1/17
Buy Link: Amazon
Author Info
Annie Nicholas writes paranormal
romance with bite. She has courted vampires, hunted with shifters, and slain a
dragon’s ego all with the might of her pen. Riding the wind of her imagination,
she travels beyond the restraints of reality and shares them with anyone
wanting to read her stories. Mother, daughter, and wife are some of the other
hats she wears while hiking through the hills and dales of her adopted state of
Vermont.
Author Links:
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