Also for the month of April, my paranormal romance Dragon’s Heart is a 99cent read. Rhys and Lila’s story is part of the DragonFate Novels series, a fated mate romance featuring a dragon shifter intent upon satisfying the firestorm and a selkie who prefers her independence. Too bad the Fae Queen is hunting both of their kinds and the only way to avoid extinction is to join forces. Will Lila lose her heart to this honorable dragon shifter while trying to save her kind?
Her kiss will rock his world…
Dragon shifter Rhys believes in what he can hold in his talons. A chef with his own restaurant, he is organized, practical, and distrusts surprises. When his firestorm sparks in the realm of Fae, he’s sure it’s an illusion created by the Dark Queen and a trap. Even though he wants a partner and family again more than anything else, Rhys isn’t going to be seduced by a fake destined mate—even if the kiss of that beautiful selkie melts his very soul and is one temptation he can’t resist…
Selkie Lila learned long ago that her independence is her most precious possession. But Rhys challenges everything she believes to be true about mortals—he defends her right to choose, even at his own peril, and that’s more seductive than Lila wants to admit. Is it just a trick to convince her to bear his son? Or is this Pyr warrior as honorable as he appears to be?
When an ancient and evil dragon prince joins forces with the Dark Queen to eliminate both the Pyr and the selkies, Rhys and Lila must work together to save their kinds—and each other. When they plunge into unknown realms with only each other to rely upon, will their combined abilities be enough to triumph—or will they have to surrender more for their unborn son and the chance of a future together?
“Deborah digs deep into the paranormal, shifter world to pull us into a world of intrigue, murder & mayhem, evil Fae. Grab this page turner to see if the dragon keeps his heart. Loved it!!”
—GoodReads Reviewer
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“DRAGON’S HEART is a passionate and detailed story that recounts several histories and the mythology of magic beginning with the selkie, and the origins of the dragons on Earth. We are up close and personal as Eithne, an ancient witch, recounts the comprehensive history of the species; and as Lila recites the exhaustive mythology of the Selkie, the gem of the hoard, and the Isle of the Blessed. The premise is exciting, dramatic and intense; the romance is emotional and seductive; the characters numerous, edgy and animated. 4.5 Stars!”
—The Reading Cafe
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An Excerpt from Dragon’s Heart:
Rhys watched in astonishment as the portal opened in the wall of the bar called Bones. What he saw made no sense at all: never mind that the Pyr were in the company of vampires and a werewolf with attitude who wanted to make an alliance. Kristofer’s firestorm had ignited, his mate had vanished through a solid brick wall, then Kade had drawn a doorway on the wall and it had opened.
He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be imagining things.
In fact, Rhys didn’t think it was possible to be drunk enough to have hallucinations like this. It must really be happening. There didn’t seem to be anything beyond the door that had opened in the wall, just darkness and the glow of Kristofer’s firestorm.
Kristofer was already heading for the doorway, a flame dancing on his fingertip. It was a beacon, leading him to his destined mate, and Rhys knew Kristofer would feel compelled to follow it.
Rhys would have hesitated and asked questions: he was the skeptic of the group of friends. Kristofer was the believer—but Rhys would have Kristofer’s back. Rhys wouldn’t have gone through that door voluntarily for himself, but he’d go without hesitation in support of a friend.
Alasdair had stepped back with caution, while Hadrian, also in his dragon form, was crossing the threshold right behind Kristofer. Kade was staring down at the stylus he’d used to make the doorway, as if he was astonished by its powers, too. Rhys heard Theo shout a warning in old-speak, but he had to stay with Kristofer.
There was no telling what they’d find on the other side.
He’d already shifted and was glad to be in his dragon form. His senses were keener and he thought he could smell danger. An icy shiver slipped over him as he crossed the threshold. Rhys spread his wings, sensing that the ground fell away beneath him and took flight. There was no sign of either Kristofer or Hadrian and he turned in the air when he realized he couldn’t even see the light of the firestorm anymore. He looked back toward the door and the bar.
There was no door.
He was surrounded by darkness and all alone.
Rhys didn’t panic. That was how others made mistakes. He calmly flew onward, pretty sure of his direction. It only made sense that he’d catch up to his companions. Kristofer must have raced on ahead to meet his mate, and Rhys already knew that Kristofer flew faster than he did.
To his relief, in half a dozen beats of his wings, something glimmered ahead. The firestorm! Rhys swooped low, hoping he arrived in time to help Kristofer, only to discover that he’d seen light reflected on the sea.
What sea?
He should be in the building adjacent to the bar, Bones, in Manhattan. It should be the basement of a warehouse, or another bar, or a tunnel—not an ocean. Despite his conviction, water spread to the horizon in every direction, lit by a glow.
What was going on?
Rhys flew in a wide circle, unable to explain his situation. He remained beyond the glow of light, distrusting it. He swooped down to dip his toes in the water, but nothing changed. The sea was silvery blue and calm, with just a slight undulation of waves. There were small islands in the distance and the crescent of a rocky beach on the closest one.
And that glow. It was golden, not like moonlight at all.
It was more like a firestorm’s light. From this distance, it was just a golden light, one that didn’t illuminate anything specific.
Rhys barely discerned a splash, coming from the direction of the glow. The sound was faint, even with his keen Pyr hearing, and he guessed that someone hadn’t wanted to make a sound. It had to be Kristofer’s firestorm. He sped toward the light silently, flying close to the water to avoid detection. The light dipped beneath the waves and dimmed. Rhys spotted a dark silhouette surrounded by a golden glow in the water. Whatever it was went deeper and the light faded.
Rhys dove into the sea in pursuit, expecting to find his friends.
To his astonishment, a spark lit at the end of his own talon. It glowed orange, radiant even in the water, which only gave him more questions. The flame sent a heat through him that couldn’t be denied, heating him as well as filling him with desire.
But this was supposed to be Kristofer’s firestorm.
Was his own destined mate nearby? That would be a coincidence beyond belief.
The flame was brighter when Rhys held his claw down toward the dark depths. The yearning and desire that filled him could only be explained by the firestorm. That form had to be his destined mate. He returned to the surface, took a deep breath, and dove. He held his claw before himself, following the glow like a beacon.
How could his mate swim so deep?
Rhys swam harder and spotted a silhouette, once more framed in that golden glow. The shape surprised him. Was his mate a seal? How could that be? The light was brightest around the creature. Rhys gave chase, his chest tight. He didn’t dare return to the surface and lose sight of her. He had a strange conviction that if he did, he’d never find his way back again.
The light drove him on, but his mate had no intention of being caught. Rhys swam as quickly as he could, ducking around coral and rocks, swimming deeper and deeper. His chest ached for lack of air, but he forced himself to continue. The water became as dark as midnight, especially in contrast to the golden light of the firestorm. That glow startled eels and fish that never saw such bright light, but didn’t illuminate much else. Just when Rhys thought his lungs would burst, the flame flared to golden brilliance, illuminating the entry to a cave, then winked out.
She must have taken refuge there.
Rhys reached inside, knowing he could manage only one grab before he had to return to the surface. His talons closed around something—or someone. It felt suspiciously like a woman’s waist and the contact sent a fire through his veins that could only be the result of the firestorm. She struggled and squirmed, but she had to be in need of air, too. Rhys knew that people who were drowning often fought their rescuers. He gripped her with resolve and surged toward the surface.
On the way, he changed to his human form, reasoning that he could still hold on to her but would require less air. The water was lit with a blue shimmer during his transformation. He kept one arm around his mate’s waist and used the other to haul them up to salvation. They were surrounded by a golden glow, but Rhys didn’t look at her, not yet. He broke the surface with a gasp and took a greedy gulp of air.
Then he looked.
Rhys held a seal, a creature with large dark eyes that stared back at him fearlessly. He would have thought he’d made a mistake if it hadn’t been for the thousands of little sparks of the firestorm, the tiny blazes that illuminated every point of contact between them.
This was his mate?
She squirmed in his grip and he saw a blue shimmer that was more than familiar. He watched, incredulous, as her shape began to change. He held tightly, uncertain what she would become but having his hopes. She drew back her skin quickly, as if removing a hood. If he had blinked, he would have missed her transformation.
She was a woman, a naked one, with fair skin and long dark hair that hung down her back, slick and wet. Her eyes remained thickly lashed and expressive, just as dark and mysterious as those of the seal. There was no sign of her skin, but Rhys understood about hiding one’s truth. She braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed, flames erupting from the flats of her palms against his skin.
“Let me go!” she said, struggling against him. She spared a glance at the sky. “I have to hide!” She had a Scottish accent and a low sultry voice, but her fear was real.
She didn’t yet know that he would do anything to protect her.
She maybe didn’t realize his capabilities.
Rhys changed shape again, soaring high with her captive in his embrace. It felt good to carry his mate in his dragon form, to feel the wind beneath his wings and the power in his body. If anything, the firestorm was stronger and hotter, driving all other thoughts from his mind. He wanted to kiss her, to seduce her, to pleasure her—but she seemed to have the opposite reaction to his presence.
“Please, release me! You’re being a shifter just means she’ll get two for the price of one.” She fought him hard, but without success. “If you want to be captured, leave me out of it.”
“Captured by who?”
She gave him a look, as if he was an idiot. “The Dark Queen, of course. I won’t say her name. She means to kill us all, and I intend to live.”
“But this is the firestorm. Can’t you feel its heat? The firestorm trumps everything.”
“The firestorm?” Her tone became curious and she stopped struggling. She frowned a little, examining the light that flared between them, placing her hand on him then moving it away. She repeated the move, as if testing that the result was consistent. It was a delicious torment that turned Rhys’ thoughts in a predictable direction.
“You’re right. The light of Fae is silver, not gold.” She stroked his chest and the light flared to brilliance between her hand and his scales. They both caught their breath simultaneously and Rhys felt the acceleration of her heartbeat. His own matched its pace, a sensation that left him dizzy and he flew in a spiral with his eyes closed, wallowing in the pleasure of her touch.
His firestorm.
It was a dream come true. He would have a family again.
“What exactly is a firestorm?” she asked, her tone more practical than Rhys felt.
“An ancient power,” he replied in a low rumble. “The mark of one of my kind finding his destined mate.” Their gazes clung and Rhys felt his mouth go dry. She was beautiful.
To his surprise, she laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like a thousand silver bells. She surveyed him with amazement. “Destiny? I’m not sure I believe in that.”
“I’m not sure you need to.” Rhys pulled her closer, creating a flurry of sparks between them and sending a simmering heat through his veins. He watched her take a deep breath, savoring the sensation, then she considered him with sparkling eyes.
“So, this is how a dragon is brought to his knees,” she said, teasing him.
“Absolutely,” he agreed. “You’re beautiful.” He meant it. Even without the firestorm, he would have been struck by her beauty. She was naked, so he could see a lot of her skin. As he glanced down, her nipples tightened but she didn’t blush or avert her gaze.
“You aren’t so bad yourself,” she said and ran a hand across his chest, creating a line of flames that made them inhale in unison. She met his gaze and lifted a brow. “Although, a dragon. That sounds like playing with fire.” Her lips twisted at her own joke and he hoped she might laugh again.
“Pyr is what we call ourselves.” He recalled that she had powers of her own. “What do you call your kind?”
“Selkies.”
He hadn’t imagined it, then. She had turned to a seal. “I didn’t think selkies were real.”
“We nearly aren’t,” she replied, a little sharply, then eyed him. “I was pretty sure dragons weren’t real,” she continued with that same wry humor. He could have listened to her, with that accent, all day—or all night. “But you look pretty solid.”
“I am.” They were flying over the water, but Rhys heard waves on that beach ahead of them. He changed his course, wanting a kiss.
“But turn out the light,” she urged. “We don’t want to be seen by her.”
“I can’t. There’s only one thing that extinguishes the light of the firestorm.”
She started to ask, then their gazes met and he saw that she understood. “You’re kidding me. Not while you’re a dragon.”
“Not while I’m a dragon.” Rhys soared toward the beach, landing with a flourish. He felt filled with new power and grace, and he knew his shift to human form was perfect. He landed on his feet in the shallows with his mate cradled in his arms.
“Wow,” she said, running a hand over his shoulder as if she couldn’t stop herself. A sizzle of fire trailed after her touch, leaving Rhys sizzling. “Very impressive.”
“Thank you.”
Her eyes danced as she met his gaze. “Although the red and silver scales were very striking.”
Rhys grinned. “I’m glad you approve.”
There was a distant boom of thunder and her panic returned. She spared a glance upward. “She is watching! I have to go.” She wriggled against him again. If she wanted him to release her, the movement had exactly the opposite effect. Rhys’ embrace tightened and his desire rose.
“It’s just a storm,” he said, trying to soothe her.
“She certainly is,” she said, her eyes flashing. It was clear that she meant to flee, but Rhys wanted that kiss first.
“Just one kiss before you go,” he entreated. “For the firestorm.”
She caught her breath, looked at his mouth, then glanced up again. “Or you’ll hold me captive until I do?” There was a warning in her tone and Rhys understood that she liked her freedom.
He loosened his grip deliberately. “Of course not. The decision is yours.”
She inhaled, her eyes sparkling, and ran her hands over him again, as if she couldn’t resist temptation. “You are a surprise. I thought dragons just grabbed the damsels they wanted.”
“I like women who choose to be with me.”
She smiled at him, her approval clear. “Maybe just one kiss,” she agreed, a little breathless. “I’ve never kissed a dragon shifter before.”
Rhys smiled. “Then we’ll have to make it count,” he whispered, then bent his head and captured her lips beneath his own.
“Oh,” she murmured and he swallowed the sound, slanting his mouth over hers to deepen his kiss. She made a little growl in her throat, as if she couldn’t decide whether to fight him or to surrender. Then she sighed and melted against him, parting her lips to welcome him. Her fingers slid into his hair and tangled in it, drawing him closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, taking control of the kiss in a thrilling way.
The firestorm blazed through him, setting his very blood on fire, hot and hungry and demanding, just the way they’d always said it would be. Desire obliterated every other thought from his mind. Rhys was aware of nothing but his mate and her perfection.
Her kiss—and her hunger for his touch.
He felt her arch her back to rub her breasts against his chest, and felt the tip of her teasing tongue. She wasn’t shy, and he liked that, too. This time, it was Rhys who growled in frustration. He pivoted without lifting his head and strode toward the beach.
“No!” she said, breaking their kiss. “There can’t be more.”
“There must be more,” Rhys replied. “The firestorm can’t be stopped.”
“This one has to wait,” she said as lightning flashed across the sky again. She kicked hard, suddenly. Her move surprised Rhys enough that he loosened his grip. She didn’t wait for a second chance. She jumped from his embrace and splashed into the water, diving for the depths again.
“No!” Rhys roared and dove after her. He saw a blue shimmer in the water ahead of him and knew what it meant. He snatched and caught the tip of her tail in one hand, and she paused to look back at him. She had half-changed, her lower body the tail of a seal, but her upper body still human. Her skin was gathered around her waist, like a cloak. She was like a mermaid but not. Her hair swirled around her and her gaze softened, the light of the firestorm glowing all around them. She reached back and touched his hand, so lithe and lovely that his heart squeezed.
“She’s coming,” she whispered, and he was amazed that she could communicate with him beneath the water. He heard her words, like old-speak but gentler. There was an entreaty in her gaze. “Hide yourself while you can.”
“Who?” Rhys used old-speak and she must have understood.
She shook her head. “I can’t say her name. I won’t say it.” She was fierce. Then she smiled at him. “One day, maybe you can tell me about your firestorm, dragon man.” She swam closer and Rhys released her tail, unable to bear the idea of her being injured because of him. She touched her lips to his cheek.
“Thank you for the kiss. It was one to remember.” Then with a flick of her tail, she was gone. Rhys saw her pale skin disappear and knew she’d completed the shift to her other form, then he had to take a breath of air. He surged for the surface, his chest tight, wishing he had the ability to swim after her and argue his case.
There was a brilliant flash of light above the water just as Rhys broke the surface again. It cracked like lightning, illuminating the surface of the sea and the beach as if it was midday. It was silver light, though, and the sight made him shiver. He spotted a pair of high-heeled sandals at the high tide mark on the beach, but there was no one else in sight. He turned in place, wondering who had abandoned the shoes, as the light faded away. Could it have been his mate? Would they lead her to him somehow? He began to move toward the beach, wanting any clue to her identity.
Then the lightning flashed again, cracking loudly as it struck Rhys between his shoulders. He cried out at the searing pain that shot through him and closed his eyes as the world spun. He summoned the change but his body betrayed him and he remained in human form.
He couldn’t shift.
Rhys was the one to panic then. Nothing interfered with his ability to change forms, and his hidden dragon gave him the confidence to face any foe.
But he couldn’t shift. It was terrifying.
There was a red string knotted around his wrist, one that burned. It hadn’t been there before the lightning struck. Even though it was thin, he couldn’t snap it. Rhys struggled to break it, then suddenly found himself in a court of glittering Fae, Hadrian sprawled beside him with a similar string on his wrist. He was soaking wet and his clothes smelled of salt water, but there was no spark of the firestorm.
Where was the ocean cove?
Where was Kristofer?
He hoped his mate had escaped.
Then the music started, infectious merry music, and his feet began to twitch of their own accord. Rhys found himself dancing a jig without having made any decision to do so. Hadrian awakened and lunged to his feet, seizing Rhys’ hands as he joined the dance. The two of them circled, their feet pounding against the ground, compelled to dance against their will. The court around them blurred into streaks of silver and red, the music melded with raucous laughter, and his feet began to hurt. Rhys was breathless, his heart thundering, but he couldn’t stop dancing. The red cord burned and the music went on and on and on.
All the while, he wondered about the selkie and her kiss. She had warned him, but he hadn’t taken her advice. He could only hope that didn’t mean he’d never see her again.
As his feet began to bleed, Rhys could only hope she was never snared like this.
Excerpt from Dragon’s Heart
Copyright © 2020 Deborah A. Cooke
Deborah Cooke: Author 