Authors: Bianca D'arc
“Jenet.”
He tried to inject sternness into the thoughts he projected to the dragon, but it was no use.
“I thought we agreed I could handle this night’s work on my own.”
“You said that nonsense, but I never agreed.”
Drake sighed with exasperation, looking back at the beautiful woman still awaiting an answer.
“Lady Jenet.” He made the introductions. “And what is your name, my lovely?”
The Guardswoman snorted with laughter, her easy manner delighting him anew. She looked up at the dragon and bowed low, though there was a smile on her full lips and her gaze never lowered.
“I’m Krysta of the Wayfarer Clan. It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Jenet.”
So she was Jinn. No wonder she’d been welcomed in Devyn’s so easily. But what was she doing working as a Guard? Those answers would come later. He’d make certain of it.
Krysta scored big points with Jenet, Drake could tell, by her respectful words and actions. Dragons dwelt on tradition and respect, and favored humans who showed the same thoughtfulness, whether they could communicate with dragonkind or not.
“She is very pretty for a human, isn’t she, Drake?”
Drake let the observation pass without comment. Jenet had sounded just a bit too hopeful there—almost like his mother when she was trying to matchmake.
“Wayfarer Clan?” Drake addressed the woman. “I had dealings with Rulu, the old clan leader, several seasons past, but I heard he retired in favor of his daughter, Malin.”
“You heard right. Malin is gathering the remainder of our clan and sending them here. Rulu is already in residence though. He set up camp on the Southern boundary.”
“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Drake admitted with what he hoped was just the right amount of sorrow. “I only arrived today and haven’t had a chance to explore yet.” He moved a step closer, encouraged when she held her ground. “Perhaps you could give me a personal tour?”
The female of the species is more deadly...
Diana’s Hound
© 2013 Moira Rogers
Bloodhounds, Book 4
Nate Powell lived one full life as a world-class inventor before a disaster born of magic and science returned him to his prime—and turned him into a half-vampire, half-bloodhound abomination.
He’s finally stopped yearning for death, but he’s a long way from being excited about life—even if his newly virile body is
very
excited by the latest arrival to Iron Creek.
Diana is another creature that shouldn’t exist—a female bloodhound. While the males of Iron Creek accept her as a fellow warrior, Nate seems torn between a desire to study her and a need to protect her. Diana’s urges are a lot more carnal.
When they learn that a rogue hound is selling women across the border, Diana and Nate are chosen to infiltrate the vampires’ capital city. Before long, their inner bloodhounds feel the mating pull—and a hound never outlives their mate for long. In a fight to keep each other alive, they could both end up worse than dead.
Warning: Contains a badass vampire-hunting heroine who isn’t afraid to fight dirty and a broody half-vampire hero about to discover a reason to live again. Also beware of: bloodhound-on-bloodhound violence, airship heists and some furniture-endangering sex with lots of biting, all in an alternate Wild West.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Diana’s Hound:
For the first time in five years, Diana wasn’t the most dangerous person around.
She ducked a blow that would have connected with her jaw and growled as she plowed into Hunter’s midsection. He barely even flinched, his only reaction a low grunt. His fist swung around a second time, headed for her unprotected side.
She was faster, and she’d obviously have to use that to her advantage if she ever hoped to hold her own in a fight with another bloodhound. She spun away, narrowly escaping the blow, and danced back, panting.
This time he didn’t follow. Instead he braced his hands on his knees and watched her, eyes narrowed. “You’re a quick fucker, aren’t you? Suppose you’ve been doing this longer than I have, though.”
She eyed his muscled arms and shoulders and snorted out a laugh. “Being fast is the only way I can stay on my feet, you big ox.”
A rough laugh grated out of him. “Good. Keep being fast. My woman’ll give me the cold shoulder for a week if I land one of these punches on your smart mouth.”
Yes, Ophelia seemed to appreciate and respect the innate differences between men and women. “Just remind her I’m no lady. She’ll forgive you.”
“Not likely. Plenty of women here who aren’t exactly ladies, and I doubt she’d look kindly on me hitting any of them.”
Not even a woman who turned into a beast with the full moon. “Wilder won’t look kindly on us shirking our training because we’re afraid to bust a few lips and noses.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid to.” If anything, his eyes gleamed as he straightened. “Ophelia might be confused, but I’m sure as fuck not. All these new instincts I’ve got are telling me one thing, plain and simple—you’re a bloodhound.”
She could sense it about him too, an overriding feeling that he was competition, another predator she had to best when it came to the inevitable hunt. “Then that’s what matters.”
“Mmm.” Without warning he spun again, one huge hand slamming toward her gut.
Too late to avoid it, so she took the punch and met it with one of her own, striking his jaw with her fist as the breath whooshed out of her lungs.
Boots scuffed on the dirt as the world spun around her—Wilder, identified by scent and even
feel
before he spoke. “That’s enough for today. Go wash up for supper, both of you.”
Sometimes, she felt like a child instead of a grown woman, but it was Wilder’s job to train them all, keep them alive. So she nodded and slapped Hunter on the back as she passed him. “Next time, I’m whooping your ass.”
Hunter grunted and rubbed his jaw. “Don’t let her knock you upside the head. She packs a wallop for a little thing.”
Diana took the porch steps two at time before turning to grin at him. “I’m not a little thing, remember? I’m a bloodhound.”
Inside the house was dark and cool, the electric lamps unlit in the waning sunlight. She felt her way down the hall, turned the corner and bumped into a wide chest. “Sorry—”
Large, careful hands caught her elbows. “Are you all right?”
“Nate.” A shiver raced up her spine. Awareness, different from the other hounds, but not quite like the vampires she’d fought and killed, either. “I’m just a little out of breath, that’s all.”
His mouth tugged down into a frown. “Hunter hit you.”
He must have been watching. “And I hit Hunter. It’s part of our training.”
If anything, his frown deepened. “He’s twice your size. At least.”
“I held my own.” She flexed her aching hand. “Got in a few good licks.”
“I suppose you did.” Nate took a step back, though his presence still filled the narrow hallway. “You don’t feel the same as them, you know.”
She’d seen photographs of him before, distinguished and silver-haired, nothing like the man who stood before her now. Everything about him was dark—his hair, his eyes, and especially the glower that clouded his face.
Even his words.
Diana shook herself. “You don’t feel the same as the others, either. But that’s not quite what you mean, is it?”
“No,” he acknowledged, and a hint of a smile broke through. “You’ll have to forgive me, Diana. I’ve never let manners get in the way of an intellectual puzzle.”
“Is that what I am?”
“Aren’t we both?”
She shrugged. “I really haven’t given it much thought.” In his case, perhaps she should have. He was at least part vampire, and she’d been created to fight them, kill them if necessary.
“Whereas I do nothing but think. I’m told it renders my conversation tedious at times, but I’m simply grateful I’ve regained the ability to think at all.”
“Tedious? Hmm.” It was the last word she’d have used to describe him, though she was honest enough to admit perhaps that had more to do with how much she enjoyed looking at him than anything else. “We’ll have to talk more, and I’ll let you know.”
He watched her as if he suspected she was joking. “I should think the hours you’ve been forced to spend with me thus far would have been trial enough. I almost feel guilty asking if you could find some time tomorrow to help me with the journals.”
Diana brushed aside the stab of pain that accompanied the mention of her mentor’s diaries. “Who better to help you make heads or tails of Doc’s research?”
Nate’s hand settled on her shoulder. “I’d understand if you found it too painful. Most of it I could work out on my own, given enough time.”
Was she so transparent? “I’m fine. Really, I’d be glad to help.”
“If you’re sure.” He squeezed her shoulder before letting his hand fall away. “I owe you a debt as it is. If you hadn’t helped me untangle some of his later entries, Satira and I wouldn’t have found the key to synthesizing the blood substitute.”
“I was glad to help.” But she’d said that already. Something about his proximity tied her tongue, left her silly and stammering, and she took a step back. Away. “I should get cleaned up. If I sit down at Caroline’s table like this, she’s liable to dump a pitcher of water over my head.”
His lips twitched into a half smile. “I believe Hunter and Ophelia are joining us for supper tonight as well, and we all know Ophelia has ideas about appropriate attire.”
The woman
was
serious about dressing for meals, and Diana sighed. She had precious few garments left that suited, and she resolved to do something about that very soon. Surely she could find a happy medium between menswear and lace and ribbons. “Then I’d better change as well.”
Nate cleared her path to the stairs. “I’ll see you at dinner, A—” He bit off the name with an embarrassed cough. “Diana.”
April.
A word so foreign she barely recognized it as a name any longer, much less the one she’d possessed before her transformation. Did he think of her that way, as a weak and traumatized human, an unfortunate and unavoidable consequence of reading about her in Doc’s journals?
It could not stand. “Diana,” she said firmly as she brushed past him. “My name is Diana.”
The Dragon Healer
Bianca D’Arc
What’s better than a knight sweeping you off your feet? Two knights.
Silla is a healer riding circuit on the border, helping those in need. When she hears the pained cries of a dragon in distress, she comes to his aid, using most of her precious supplies to help the badly injured creature.
The dragon’s knight, Brodie, is fascinated by the woman—the miracle worker—who has come to help his friend. She is both beautiful and kind hearted and he quickly realizes she is his destined mate. And if she is Brodie’s mate, she is Geoff’s as well, for Brodie’s dragon was mated to Geoff’s dragon many years ago.
Geoff doesn’t believe in the tales of love at first sight among knights, but he knows that when either he or Brodie finds a wife, they will share her. Hearing about the dragon’s injury, Geoff and his dragon race to help, only to find the dragon on the mend and Brodie in bed with the most stunning woman Geoff has ever seen.
Love at first sight turns out to be real and it strikes them all as they come together and realize that no matter what the obstacles, they are meant to be together. Silla is the missing link that will join their lives and make them a true Lair family.
Warning: Knights like to get frisky and these two are no exception. Beware the passion, playfulness, a bit of bondage and a whole lot of three-way loving with a tiny bit of exhibitionism thrown in for good measure.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
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The Dragon Healer
Copyright © 2012 by Bianca D’Arc
ISBN: 978-1-61921-528-3
Edited by Amy Sherwood
Cover by Angela Waters
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