Friday, July 5, 2013

Dragons Among the Ice

 

Dragon Bath by Dee Dreslough, The Circle Gallery, www.Blackdrago.com

 This amazing painting has captured my attention for fifteen years. When I wrote my first dragon story, I dug through thousands of dragon pictures on the Internet to find one to capture my fancy. When I stumbled on Dee Drelough's work, I was hooked. So hooked, I bought a T-shirt and sweatshirt with the same image on the front. LOVE her vision. I believe this is the dragon who set my mind to working on the Scandinavian dragons in my first book, Dragon's Among Us

 

Sweden

Dagmar and Petra stood gazing at one another. This moment was too precious to worry about what the Ancient One had just imparted to everyone.
“Dagmar?” Violet eyes widened.
“Hmmm?”
“I have the strangest sensation we’re being watched.” Petra rustled her scales.
Dagmar had felt the eyes but hadn’t wanted to spoil the mood of the moment. He shook his head slightly.
“Well, you do realize we are standing in the meeting hall. I suspect there are a lot of eyes watching us. After all, you are the most beautiful shifter here.”
Dagmar watched the lilac cheeks burnish a deep amethyst.
“You’re just saying that because you love me.” She looked up at him through thick blond lashes.
“Yes, I am. The fact it is true doesn’t change it, though. Let’s go into the café. I’d like some hot coffee. How about you?”
The tiny dragon rewarded him with a shy smile.
Dagmar pulled a deep breath in his lungs. He had to be the luckiest being on the planet. This tiny slip of perfection was willing to spend her life with him. He realized he was being imbued with a heavy responsibility. I’m up to it. Gazing at Petra, he reinforced his promise. I have to be, she’s very precious.
The couple strolled to the Ice Palace café and located an empty table. The room buzzed with murmured, urgent conversations, the auras of concern dancing across tables and hanging diaphanously in the air. The dominant color was a gossamer blue-tinged grey, the throbbing tempo matching the stress emitted by couples going over the news the Ancient had relayed in the meeting.
Dagmar spotted Lee, red-tinged scales a sickly orange, sitting with Olga, the green edges of her scales resembling week-old mown grass, heads nearly touching as they animatedly whispered. Dagmar quickly decided he wanted to be alone with Petra and turned his back to the center of the room effectively shielding them from prying eyes and negative auras as he steered her to a small table for two tucked into an alcove near the café’s opening.
He pulled the table from the wall so she would affect a sitting position on her tail. Once she was comfortable, he sat himself across from her using his larger form to block prying eyes.
“We’ll stay the night in the dorms. May I follow you home to ask your parent’s permission for your hand tomorrow?”
Petra cast her eyes to the table. She drew small circles on the top with her delicate talon.
“I never knew my dad and my mom died giving birth to me.”
Dagmar felt his cheeks burn. “I… I’m so sorry.”
Petra gazed up at him and dazzled him with a brilliant smile. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault and my adopted mom, Kerttu was mom’s best friend. She’s a really cool shifter who taught me everything I know about myself. However,” a small line formed across the perfect brow, “I think I’d better talk to her first before you meet her. Kind of lay the ground work, you know what I mean?”
Dagmar moved his head in agreement. He wasn’t going to worry about the impending world catastrophe – too much. However, starting life with Petra at his side was becoming more urgent by the moment. The longer the two waited to lifemate, the longer it would take to have children. Dagmar wanted to see his children before the two-leggeds did something stupid like blow themselves and everyone around them up or declare war on dragonkind. They’d tried once before and nearly succeeded but dragons and shifters were ready this time. More so than the two-leggeds could possibly suspect.
“You’re right.” He allowed a light sigh to escape between his lips. “I guess I’m just impatient to start life with you.” He turned his cobalt eyes to gaze into Petra’s lilac ones. He was lost in her lavender pools when someone coughed politely behind him.
Dropping his gaze to the table, he sucked in a deep breath. “This had better be good.”
He turned to glare into the golden eyes of Lee Svensson. Olga, Petra’s best friend, stood beside him, talons wrapped possessively around his lithe, muscular bicep.
“I know the two of you would prefer to be alone, but I really feel the need to speak with you.” Lee’s scales had returned to their brilliant crimson-edged color as Olga’s had deepened to her normally forest green edges.
Dagmar darted a glance at Petra who shrugged her shoulders. He rose and maneuvered closer to the tiny dragon. She scooted herself into the corner and placed a delicate talon on Dagmar’s thigh as he sat on his tail next to her. Lee and Olga sat across from the two lovers.
Lee looked into deep cobalt and startling lilac eyes. The pair would produce interesting offspring. He cleared his throat.
“We are all aware of the announcement the Ancient made earlier.”
Agreement was unanimous around the table.
“What he didn’t say is how desperate the situation has become.” Lee glanced down at Olga, her scale edges blanching light green, and moved his talon over hers.
Dagmar raised an eyebrow as he looked at Petra who was blinking her eyes in shock.
The white scales of Lee’s cheeks began to blossom orange. He clutched Olga’s talon in his.
“Petra, I know you are Olga’s best friend, and we’re sorry to have kept this such a secret, but…”
Petra turned a terrified look Dagmar’s way. He patted her talon on his thigh then wrapped his arm around his lifemate, pulling her to him. Her body trembled beneath his touch and he gently squeezed her shoulder.
“…we got married last night.”
Petra’s eyes popped and she gasped.
“I… I… I didn’t know you were even dating!” She felt anger building in her chest and struggled to contain the fury. Her eyes narrowed and the lilac orbs colored a deep amethyst.
“Why couldn’t you confide in me Olga? We’re supposed to be best friends.”
Dagmar watched the normally flip Olga cower in her seat. He suspected his lifemate could be scathingly dangerous when aroused. The edges of Olga’s scales blanched so intensely it was hard to tell they had color at all.
“Petra…” the plea was whispered, a large tear coursing down her cheek.
Dagmar chanced a glance above Petra’s head to find her aura spiking yellow bolts of energy in a roiling red cloud.
Lee looked at the couple in front of him and spoke. “I take the blame for that.”
Petra snapped her head his direction. “I still haven’t heard why my best friend couldn’t confide in me. From you or her.”
Lee straightened his back and rigidly sat on his tail. “What I’m about to say to the two of you goes no further than this table. Are we clear?”
Petra dug her talon into Dagmar’s thigh. She barely moved her head in agreement as did Dagmar.
Lee pulled a deep breath in and slowly released the air, stirring the ice crystals on the tabletop.
The waitress appeared at the table. “What can I get everyone?”
Dagmar took a quick eye survey. “I think we’ll all have hot coffee. Would you be able to bring the pot to the table?”
The white dragon flashed a perfect set of teeth. “Sure, no problem. Be right back.”
The group waited until she was out of earshot.
“When my mother’s people visited China some 350 years ago, she went along at the insistence of her father. What he hadn’t planned on was her falling in love with one of the emperor’s archers. They courted in secret and pledged themselves to each other. Before they knew, a child was on the way – me. It was at that point my father had to set my mother down and explain that he wasn’t an archer; he was the Western Dragon Ao Jun. He was able to shift into human form at will.”
The waitress shashayed up to the table with a tray bearing four cups and a carafe of coffee.
Dagmar signed the slip adding his room number.
When she was out of earshot, Lee continued his story.
“Fearing the retribution the dragon council would inflict on my mother and her family, my father and a trusted servant secreted her out of China and back to Sweden. As my mother was a two-legged, she did not live very long but my father had sent his servant to watch over and train me in the ways of the sapien draconi. I shifted the first time when I was a year old; terrified my mom and nearly got us burned out of the village.”
Petra lifted a brow. She’d watched her friend across the table nodding and gazing at the young dragon speaking with obvious love. But she still wanted answers, and Lee wasn’t forthcoming with them.
“This still doesn’t tell me why you kept me in the dark about getting married.” She pulled her talon from Dagmar’s leg and crossed her arms in front of her.
Lee cleared his throat. “I’m getting to that. It wasn’t long after my mom discovered my… ability, the mage wars began. My father stole out of China as he knew the peoples of China would do what they had always done when the rest of the world went to war – close the borders and isolate themselves. He joined the Swedish contingent of warriors, and that’s where he met, Branstock and Arndis Nelsson.”
Lee watched the color of Dagmar’s eyes fade. His aura blanched to grey and he wavered on his tail.
“My… my parents.” The words spoken so quietly that even with dragon hearing the trio had to strain to hear them spoken.
Lee nodded. “Yes, Dagmar. Your parents. The reason songs are sung about your father is his fierce spirit and determination are legendary. He was a magnificent warrior, and your mother had healing powers not matched since her unfortunate death. Yours is a noble line.”
Dagmar’s eyes had glazed over and he murmured. “You knew my parents.”
“Actually, my father knew your parents. They whisked me away to a family cave in the fjords until the wars were over. I vaguely recall meeting an impressively tall dragon with military bearing and his lithe companion. I recall she had the most enchanting blue eyes, but it was in the process of my being trundled up and sent to the caves.”
Petra rolled her lilac eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “This still isn’t giving me an explanation of why the two of you have kept your relationship a secret, and now have denied me the pleasure of helping my best friend plan her wedding.”
Lee pushed out a breath. Olga gave him a tremulous smile. “Well, it’s complicated…”
Petra pushed up, fisting her talons on her hips. Her aura blazed red, yellow lightning flashing dangerously.
“STOP! Of course it’s complicated. Tell me now or I’m leaving, and I promise you, Olga, I’ll never speak to nor see you again as long as I live!” Her eyes had turned a royal purple. The slight hint of sulfur tainted the coffee aroma drifting around the table of four.
Olga stood pulling her spine up and glared at the petite lavender tinted dragon she called her best friend. Olga’s scale edges had deepened to a forest green tinged with black.
“Don’t ever yell at Lee. He has taken the brunt of your temper tantrum long enough.” The aura surrounding her roiled as angrily as Petra’s.
The two males looked at each other and, simultaneously, placed gentling talons on their respective mates.
The two females tried shrugging off the firm talons but met with resistance. Realizing they could not fight their mates concern, they sat rigidly glaring at each other.
“The most Ancient dragon of our species has deigned to start a war against the two-leggeds.”
Petra and Dagmar gasped in unison. Dagmar looked at Lee, raising an eyebrow.
 “Seriously?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The reason Olga and I kept all of our courting quiet is even in our world of secrecy there are spying eyes. My father was the last known full-blooded dragon of the west. Many have no knowledge of my existence. Olga has just discovered her true lineage. It was revealed that her father is Volsung’s first deputy and her mother was…”
He glanced at Olga and she nodded. She turned her head sideways and looked out the doorway.
“…Kerttu Heikkinen.”
Petra started to cough. She couldn’t catch her breath. Kerttu Heikkinen was her mother’s best friend!
“I… I… I… didn’t know. How come we weren’t raised together?” She slumped on her tail. How could she have doubted Olga? They’d been best friends all their lives. She put her head in her talons and allowed tears to slide down her forearms.
Dagmar’s scale edges turned smoky grey. He slid his arm around his ladylove. He could see her distressed aura and feel her deep pain, but he really didn’t know what else to do to make her pain go away.
Olga turned back to the table. Slowly she stretched a talon across the ice top and laid a talon on her friend’s arm.
Petra shook her head. “I feel like an idiot.”
Olga allowed a smile to touch her lips. “You were acting like one.”
Petra looked up, her lilac eyes brimming with unshed tears.
“I would have told you if I weren’t afraid you and Dagmar would have been put in danger. Remember last year’s gathering at the Arctic caves?”
Petra and Dagmar acknowledged by a quick nod. Petra grabbed a cloth napkin from the table and wiped at her eyes.
“Lee and I have crossed paths for many years.” Olga’s amber eyes glowed as she looked at her husband. He lifted his coffee cup to his lips and diplomatically filled his mouth.
Dagmar looked at the couple and saw the line of royalty in their features, the straight snouts and perfectly spaced, slender eyes rimmed in black; eyes so golden they glittered in the light. How could he have missed it before?
Olga stroked her small friend’s forearm finally grasping her talon lightly.
“I love you Petra but truth be told, when you were not the center of attention, you didn’t know or care what was going on around you.”
Petra’s eyes began to fill with tears. She looked at the tabletop watching small tendrils of steam rising from beneath the hot cups of coffee.
“I… I…” Petra stuttered.
Olga quieted her with a squeeze of the arm.
“I’m not laying blame. I’m explaining.”
Petra looked up, a tear escaping down her cheek.
“Lee and I knew of his lineage. With the rumors circulating about shifters changing unexpectedly, we knew something was not right and began to investigate on our own. When we met last year, we realized the attraction was more than just friendship – that we wanted to become lifemates but doing so would cause problems. There are still those who would see Lee’s family line rendered extinct. So we put off any permanent plans. We emailed and kept in contact on the phone. With the instances of unexpected shifting increasing, we knew we had to make a move and now. So without any fanfare or fuss, we met in town before coming up last night and got married. You two are the only ones that have this knowledge. Oh, and the magistrate at the town hall.”
Dagmar sat back on his tail. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to believe.
Lee leaned in as he put his cup on the table. He looked directly into Dagmar’s eyes.
“In the two-legged world, I work for… the military. I’m an officer in a division that keeps tabs on the pulse of our nation and others. I can’t verify what we’ve said but trust me; things are getting very precarious in their world.
“I have a pipeline of information to the Ancient’s inside circle and let me tell you, things are heating up there, too. What is the saying ‘An ill wind this way blows’? We’re in trouble and we need to face some facts about what might happen.”
Dagmar and Petra gazed sadly at each other.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” She asked, a quiver skipping through her voice.
Dagmar pulled her close to him and looked at Lee. 
“Do you still have the name and address of that magistrate?”




Thursday, July 4, 2013

Angels Present: Happy Fourth and Check In Day



Happy Fourth of July


Time to pay the piper! How did you do?

This is the Rogue's Angels weekly check-in. Every Thursday we encourage the Angels and visitors to let us know how their writing is going.

How well are you doing?

Had problems this week? That's ok. Just sit down this coming week and write. Whatever you do, don't let difficulties from the week before get in your way this week.


Every word is one word closer to the finished product.

One more chapter down. Highland Sunrise is slated to be finished (rough draft) in four weeks. Today I started chapter seven and I'm heading for chapter eight. Finished the rewrites of Highland Miracle and it's now ready to be published as an individual novella.

Goal for next week is to reach page one hundred five. Happy writing.


How was your week?

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

The Angels Presents: The Look of Love




The Look of Love by Rosemary Indra
Excerpt Heat Level 1
Book Heat Level 3


The pager on her waistband sounded a moment before Penny heard the city's alarm sound. Her sense of duty and the need to help others pulled her back into the station to answer the call. "One vehicle off the road-milepost two on Oak Knoll Road." Penny read her pager out loud.

Once she put on her turnouts, she jumped into the engine. That's why she was there. After years of working at the bank, she'd gone back to school and became a paramedic. She wanted to help others and make a difference. Joining the fire department was the best way to honor Jim's memory.

Scott got into the officer's seat in front of her. She wondered if she should get out. Catching her reflection in the window, she straightened her turnout and renewed her fortitude. They'd shared a few kisses. Nothing more. The passion his kiss ignited was best forgotten. If he was uncomfortable with the situation, he could get into the other vehicle.

She ignored the usual chatter in the engine cab as other firefighters joined them and they drove to the accident. A pickup truck rolled over in the ditch with one occupant was all she'd heard. She drew a deep breath trying to still her clamoring nerves. Until now, she'd ignored her growing awareness of Scott. For some reason tonight her defenses were lowered and she could no longer disregard her desire for him.

Once they stopped at the scene, Scott asked. "Penny, do you feel comfortable directing traffic?"

Without looking at him, she replied, "Yes." Then she grabbed a flashlight, fluorescent vest and stop sign from the side compartment and hurried to the back of the engine. Red lights flashed around her. She directed the rescue unit and ambulance to the accident a few yards up the road.

"Watch your backside," Scott yelled. Like always, he stood behind her, protecting her.

Guiding drivers wasn't her favorite job in the department, but traffic was light for the middle of the night. She couldn't believe how much time they'd spent in the storage room.

"How are you doing?" he asked a few minutes later.

Penny jumped at the sound of his voice beside her. "You startled me, I didn't hear you." She hadn't been able to get Scott off her mind since they left the station. Now she hesitated to look at him.

"I wanted a chance to talk to you alone." His voice held a serious tone; an I-want-to-clarify-any-misunderstanding-tone.

Red lights from the rescue unit continued their rhythmic flash around them. The colored illumination added a surreal appearance to the worry lines that marked Scott's face. He too appeared shaken by something. In the darkness she couldn't fully read his expression. With his brows lowered, he had a stern look of finality over his features. She guessed their kissing surprised him as much as it did her. Afraid she was losing her best friend, she breathed in deep. She knew and dreaded the subject he wanted to discuss with her.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I…"

"I understand it won't happen again," she said hurriedly. If only she could turn back the clock.



Read and enjoy this one. Overall, this story gave me happy thoughts about life and love.

Seriously Reviewed   19 out of 20

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The Angels Present: The Locket




The Locket by Chrsitine Young
Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level:

Oregon Coast,1894

Bone-weary from a hard day at sea, Misha trudged up the long mud-rutted road to the boarding house that sat on top a hill less than a mile outside Mist Harbor, Oregon. A thick, cold mist hovered close to the ground wetting everything: the rhododendrons that grew wild, the azaleas that lined the cement walkway to the front porch, and the saw grass that grew easily in the sandy soil. Misha paused a moment to push back a lock of hair that repeatedly fell across his brow and into his eyes.

The land was windswept and salt battered, yet he enjoyed the salt-taste of the air and the swooping sea birds as well as the playful sea animals. He loved the way the trees bent to the power of the wind and found a way to survive despite the brutality of the elements.

His purpose here was short lived, he reminded himself. He didn’t intend to find himself attached to these parts in any way.

He smelled of a hard days work. The lingering aroma of sweat and Chinook salmon filled his nostrils. It was not a scent he had any use for, but for the time being the job on the fishing boat gave him a reason for staying in the small coastal town. Right now he couldn’t wait to submerse himself in a hot bath, wash the stench from his body, and ease his stiff, strained muscles.

The sea had always been one of his favorite places. But fishing?

By God no, he’d just as soon relax and watch the sails billow on a clipper as the majestic ship rounded the horn or stand at the tiller with the wind whistling around him. He’d even rather battle a hurricane off the Bermudas.

Blending in with the people who lived in this small coastal village had been imperative.

The quest he’d undertaken had led him straight to Miss Ariel Cameron’s boarding house in Mist Harbor, and there the trail stopped. Thinking about Ariel set his nerves on edge.

Ariel was willow thin, femininely delicate, and hardly capable of the atrocities he’d set out to avenge less than a year ago. Yet the evidence he’d uncovered had sent him here, to her home. The name he’d followed had been her name. The men he’d followed had landed in Mist Harbor more than once, her father one of them.

He walked up the immaculately kept steps to the house and opened the door to the screened in porch.

"Misha," the captain boomed out a welcome. "Fine weather we’re havin’ now. Just right for the salmon runs."

The rocker squeaked as the captain moved back and forth in the wicker chair.

"Just right," Misha acknowledged and stepped through the next door to the parlor. A blast of heat met him as he nodded his head in polite recognition to the other borders. In a pale blue day dress, Ariel moved with a slight limp through the hallway and disappeared into one of the first floor rooms. Even though she seemed to favor one leg, the sway of her hips enticed all of Misha's senses.

He didn’t understand the feeling but in a way no other woman had touched him, she beckoned to him. Her amber colored eyes were wide and when she smiled, they glistened and shimmered, reminding him of the bronze mosques in Constantinople when the sun beat upon them. Miss Ariel Cameron was unique--unconventional--and she fascinated him. She was the key to his revenge as well as his salvation.



The Locket is a very exciting tale with a dramatic setting. Overall, this is a very entertaining story.

Maura
Reviewer for Coffee Time Romance

Monday, July 1, 2013

The Angels Present: The Lending Library




The Lending Library
C. L. Kraemer
clkraemer@hotmail.com

Excerpt Heat Level: 1
Book Heat Level: 1

Buy at: www.roguephoenixpress.com

Faeries try to fit into the human world when the forest where they make their home is destroyed by a mysterious enemy.


EXCERPT
Chapter One

Ailidh wobbled precariously on her high heels.

Kayne smirked. "Having problems, dear?"

"Shut up!" she snapped. "I need to practice this until I get it right. We don’t really have many options left open to us, Kayne. You had better practice, too."

He stopped and steadied himself on the railing of the porch. He wriggled his feet out of the closed leather shoes that encased them.

"I don’t know why you insist we wear these ridiculous articles of clothing. This long-sleeved shirt cuts off the circulation to my hands not to mention the lack of space for my wings and these long pants chap my legs.

"Worst of all, are these horrendous leather shoes. They pinch and make my feet swell. Why do we have to go through all of this? I don’t understand." Kayne grumbled.

Ailidh sighed and slowly, patiently explained to him, once again, why they were practicing.

"Remember last Wednesday when Keegan and Connal lost their dwelling? The sound of their tree crashing to the ground was deafening. The Others are moving out more and more. We will lose our home if we don’t act first. Now, put your shoes back on and walk for just five more minutes."

Kayne wrestled his shirt off and threw it to the porch’s deck. He pulled the long pants off his body and left them in a heap next to the shirt. Bending forward, he touched his toes gingerly as he gradually unfurled his lacey wings. Slowly, he pulled himself to an upright position. Shoulders back, wings completely expanded, he lifted his 18-inch form to its full height and looked at Ailidh defiantly.

"I don’t need to fit into the Others’ world. They need to adjust themselves to my world and leave us alone."

Ailidh, teetering, grabbed the lower railing of the porch and shook her head.

"Kayne, most of the Others don’t even know we exist. How can they adjust to something they don’t even believe?"

"They adjust to animals, don’t they?"

"The animals chose to be seen. We did not. Remember? Our great, great grandfathers took a vote and decided we would endanger ourselves more if we continued to be visible to the Others. At that time, they didn’t have all the machinery they have now. They moved into our lands at a slower pace. Now, put on the clothes and try to adjust."

"No." Kayne kicked at the clothing on the porch. "I’m going to get a magazine and a cup of coffee. You can stand here and practice day and night for all I care."

He turned on his heels and lifted himself off the ground with his delicate appendages. He lazily winged his way into the open window of the building marked Lending Library.

Hovering until he landed on the balls of his feet, he folded the wings tight to his torso and walked to the corner of the building signed Coffee Shop. He sat in a small chair snugged close to the matching table. Sliding the Newsweek someone had tossed on the table toward him, he flipped through the pages. Minimized for easier handling, the magazine was still large enough to require both of his hands to turn the pages. A diminutive nymph in a waitress uniform with a "Chrissy" nametag took his order for a latte. Ten minutes later, she returned with the steaming liquid in a cup.

"Thanks, Chrissy." Kayne picked up the cup carefully and took a sip.

"No problem, Kayne," she had a surprisingly deep voice for a nymph. "Where’s Ailidh?"

Kayne jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the front porch.

"Practicing," he grunted.

"Oh," Chrissy mopped the table next to Kayne’s with a wet rag then flew daintily to the kitchen with the dirty cups and saucers she’d picked up. One of the resident dryads of the valley, Chrissy was living in the tree behind the Lending Library. Her home across the meadow had been one of the first destroyed.

Ailidh is right. Kayne frowned at the silent admission. The Others were invading his world with frightening, swift, uncaring swaths into the forestlands. Soon there wouldn’t be an Ancient tree left. While, at a glance, their movements seemed random, even careless, Kayne had noted a pattern, albeit haphazard, to their actions. Months earlier he’d watched from a safe distance as the huge screeching yellow machines ripped up his ancient wood friends and squashed their bodies beneath armored tracks. He could never be sure whether the squealing had been the old trees or the vicious yellow machines. After the first occasion of watching as they destroyed a sea of Ancients, Kayne had left on shaky wings and flown home. Ailidh was furious at him, thinking he’d been with his friends drinking honeysuckle wine. He couldn’t stop throwing up long enough to tell her what he’d seen.