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Awakening the dragon
By day, Leo Ström works as an assistant in a tattoo parlor. By night... Well, he isn’t quite sure what happens at night. He just knows that it’s best if he restrains himself.
Ink is more than just superficial decoration to Rhea Carlisle. Her ability to read her clients’ souls in their tattoos gives her work its special magic—and it allows her to see that there’s more to Leo than his brilliant blue eyes.
The passion that kindles between them might be Leo’s salvation. Or it might be the end of the world...
Rhea set down her mug. “So roll up your sleeve.”
“Actually, I was thinking of the Midgard Serpent.”
Rhea laughed nervously. “Right. Because that wasn’t at all awkward the last time.”
“I wasn’t present the last time,” he reminded her.
“At least not mentally. And you said you could focus on an event from the past.”
She looked suspicious. “Why does it have to be the serpent?”
“Because the question I want answered—Do I tell you beforehand?”
“It’s not a parlor trick, so, yeah, that information would be useful.”
“Right. Sorry. I want to find out exactly when and where I got the tattoo.”
“And you don’t want to know where you got the others?”
Leo gave her an apologetic smile. “Not from you.”
JANE KINDRED is the author of the Demons of Elysium series of M/M erotic fantasy romance, the Looking Glass Gods dark fantasy tetralogy and the gothic paranormal romance The Lost Coast. Jane spent her formative years ruining her eyes reading romance novels in the Tucson sun and watching Star Trek marathons in the dark. She now writes to the sound of San Francisco foghorns while two cats slowly but surely edge her off the side of the bed.
The Dragon’s Hunt
Jane Kindred
Contents
Blood ran into his eyes as he struggled to his feet. The groans of the maimed and the dying around him were eclipsed by the battle cries of his comrades who remained, and by the crack of iron against leather and wood—and against flesh and bone. They never should have followed their enemy into the woods. They’d been set upon by forces they couldn’t count, swarming out from behind every tree and every rock like a band of brigands, surrounding them with no room to maneuver, no way to stand in shield formation. It quickly became every man for himself.
Through the blood and mud caking his vision, he caught sight of the sudden arc of a battle-axe swinging down on him from his left. He’d lost his shield, and he turned