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Consoling a sobbing dragon and serving pig buffets are just part of the job for Myrna Banks. Working for a mediation firm, it's her job to get humans compensated for damages caused by the dragons who now rule. But her "typical" day is interrupted by Trian Chobardan, an old flame who sneaked out of her bed two years ago, taking her heart and a handful of classified documents with him.
Myrna would love to show Trian the door, but he's been sent by North America's reigning dragon lord for help negotiating a truce with a powerful rival to avert war. Myrna agrees to help, even though she'll be stuck with Trian as a partner.
As the two work together, Myrna finds Trian to be surprisingly supportive--and still irresistibly attractive. Though her brain tells her not to forget his betrayal, her body feels differently. When they learn the enemy dragon lord is planning something no one could have imagined, Myrna has to learn who she can trust before she loses not only her heart, but her life.
Reader Rating: (3 Ratings)
It's amazing how often my day starts with a three-legged dragon and an enraged dairy farmer. I stood, clad in a set of knee-high muck boots and a brand new pencil skirt, and tried to restore some order to my first appointment of the day, an encounter involving a very hungry dragon and the dairy farmer whose cattle had been unfortunate enough to be within grabbing distance at meal time.
"It was j-j-just a l-little sn-sn-snack!! My doctor's appointment took way l-longer than it was supposed to and I was h-h-hungry!" The floor literally shook with the dragon's sobs. Isiwyth Armatoth, lovely purple dragon and niece of our nation's dragon lord, balanced atop a thick wooden beam that served as the room's sole dragon perch. Her birdlike claws contracted rhythmically with tension as she tried to explain herself through tear-induced hiccups. Mrs. Isiwyth Armatoth was a mess.
And so was my office. The cattle hadn't all hit the floor when Isiwyth lost her lunch. Instead, their mangled remains had landed dead center of my sturdy wooden desk, and were currently dripping a mixture of saliva, blood and stomach acid onto the small space heater I used to warm my toes while riffling through paperwork. The noxious fumes were probably permeating the entire building at this point.
My coworkers loved me.
While her hind legs made kindling out of my office furniture, her front legs waved wildly to punctuate her sobs. Well, her front leg. The other one was missing, thanks to the farmer's skill with game traps. I shifted slightly onto my toes so I'd be ready when I had to move fast. Isiwyth's claw had started to heal quite nicely, but I still had to dodge the spatters of blood she sent sailing with each gesture. And I had to do it discreetly. In a pencil skirt and muck boots.
I waited until the volume of her tears had dropped from deafening to loud, and then pulled out my most professional tone of voice. "Mrs. Armatoth, we understand. I can only imagine how much energy it takes to keep those two dragonlings healthy and growing. When did you say they were due again?" The doctor's appointment that had kept Isiwyth from her normal lunch was a checkup on the two tiny dragons stretching her already enormous stomach.
The purple dragon sniffled once more, but stopped crying. "Next month. I have the ultrasound photos if you'd like to see." Her gorgeous green eyes gazed into mine, judging the sincerity of my interest.
I smiled widely. "Absolutely." Anything to get Isiwyth's mind off her injured claw. The dragon giggled, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Apparently even expectant mothers loved talking about their children, and Isiwyth was no exception.
As Isiwyth dug around for the prints in a large satchel strapped to her side, I dropped the smile and arranged my face into a more serious expression before I turned to the room's other occupant. Switching from dragonspeak to English, I laid a hand on the farmer's shoulder. "Mr. Sompston. I'm so sorry about today's events. Would you mind telling me exactly what happened?" I'd managed to piece together quite a bit from Isiwyth's sobbing monologue, but it was never a bad idea to hear both sides of the story.
Mr. Sompston raised his face from his hands and met my eyes. "Annabelle! She ate my Annabelle!" With those words, Mr. Sompston promptly broke down in tears that nearly rivaled the dragon's.
Reader Reviews (1)
Submitted By: LA Dragons on Sep 4, 2013Really enjoyed/loved this book. Different, interesting, with a plot that keeps changing and growing. I could not put this book down as so much kept happening. When is the next book out?
Never Deal with DragonsBy: Lorenda Christensen