Paranormal Dating Agency: Dragons Don't Lie (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Fire Chronicles Book 5)

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Paranormal Dating Agency: Dragons Don't Lie (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Fire Chronicles Book 5) Page 1

by D'Elen McClain




  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Latin Goddess Press, Inc.. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Paranormal Dating Agency remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Latin Goddess Press, Inc., or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Biography

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  More Dragons

  Dragons Don’t Lie

  Holly S. Roberts writing as D’Elen McClain

  Holly S. Roberts writing as D’Elen McClain

  [email protected]

  www.wickedstorytelling.com

  Dragons Don’t Lie

  Wicked Story Telling

  Copyright © 2017 Holly S. Roberts

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be multiplied, stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by whatever means. Electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the writer. This eBook is licensed for your use only.

  This is a work of fiction. ALL characters are derived from the author’s imagination.

  No person, brand, or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual..

  Dedication

  Dragons Don’t Lie is dedicated to those who laugh and love like there’s no tomorrow.

  May your non-existant tomorrows be endless!

  The twins’ names belong to Sharon DeBruin, Bethany Titus, and Gemma Broadhead. Yes this means you’re the babysitters when these raskels need it.

  Biography

  Holly S. Roberts aka D’Elen McClain is a USA TODAY Best-Selling author under both names. She’s written over 40 books with kickass women, stubborn men, and steamy sex. Holly lives high in the Arizona Mountains with her husband and two spoiled dogs.

  For more information:

  www.wickedstorytelling.com

  http://facebook.com/hollysrobertsauthor

  http://twitter.com/mywickedstories

  Holly S. Roberts

  Completion Sports Series

  Hotter Than Hell Outlaw Series

  Club El Diablo Kinky Series

  D’Elen McClain

  Fang Chronicles

  Fire Chronicles

  Chapter One

  Preface

  Dragons Don’t Lie is a standalone novella in the Fire Chronicles series. It’s the beginning of the new series about the grown children fifty years after the first series takes place. All you really need to know is that dragons might be the mightiest shifters but they cannot claim to be the brightest. If you prefer to start at the beginning, Dragons Don’t Cry, book one, is free at the time of this printing

  § § § §

  Ashrac

  LOOKING DOWN AT the small white business card in my hand, I can’t help wondering what I’m doing here. I’ve sunk so low even my best chess strategy won’t save me. I glance up at “PDA” etched in white block letters on the glass door in front of me. Paranormal Dating Agency. Shrugging, I decide to go for broke. What the hell do I have to lose at this point? I open the door and shove it forward a little harder than I meant to. It slams against the far wall with a thud. A woman behind a large oak desk looks up and scowls. I grimace inside my head because I’m accustomed to that exact look from my mother when she’s unhappy about something I’ve done. This won’t go well.

  “Mr. Ashrac?” she questions in a sturdy, direct voice, her blue eyes boring into mine. Her white hair is cut in one of those unattractive short styles that many women wear now. A boob, it’s called or something like that.

  A low growl escapes my throat. “The proper title is Ashrac of the Red Dragon Clan,” I correct.

  She rolls her eyes, pulls out a stack of papers, and arranges them on a clipboard. “I’ll call you Mr. AOTRDC.” Her prissy reply says she thinks she has the last word on the subject, and my eyebrows lift as I try to decipher what she’s talking about. “It’s the acronym for your name,” she adds with another eye roll and lifts the clipboard in my direction. “I’m Gerri Wilder of the Old Woman Clan. I’ve been expecting you for—” she looks at the large clock on the wall and then back at me, “two hours,” she chides.

  I ignore the censure of her words and take the offered clipboard.

  “Fill out what you can and we’ll use a private room for your interview.”

  “Interview,” I grumble under my breath as I take a seat on an uncomfortable vinyl chair and look at the first page of the form. It’s straightforward until I turn to page two. “Humph,” I grumble again and flip through the next page without filling out the required lines. “This is ridiculous,” I say loudly. Gerri Wilder, or GWOTOWC, ignores me.

  I hand over the sheaf of papers with only the first page filled in. Gerri looks through them, huffs, and stands to her full five-foot height from behind her desk. Her short white hair is a lie, or at least I think it is. Judging by the trickle of energy she releases, she’s a shifter of an unknown lesser variety. During my fifty years of visiting the human realm, there have been many changes. This realm is now a melting pot of every paranormal creature imaginable. I’m undecided if that’s good or bad. Bottom line… I prefer my own realm, where dragons are lords of land and sky. I’m just old-fashioned that way.

  GWOTOWC touches a button on her phone and a man dressed in casual business attire steps from an office and waits by the door. “Follow me,” she says and walks through the door the man walked out of. He heads to her desk and sits in her chair. I follow as directed, even though fire heats my lungs. Dragons do not like being bossed around.

  The small room has one table with four chairs. The walls are white with colorful artwork positioned to their best advantage with accent lighting. Gerri takes a seat and stacks my paperwork in front of her. She lifts an eyebrow and waits for me to take the seat across from her. After I sit, she wastes no time. “We’ll go through each page and I’ll fill in the blanks that gave you such problems.”

  “Nothing gave me a problem, I just don’t wish to answer those stupid questions,” I tell her in a bored voice as I lean back in the chair and stretch my legs beneath the table. The room is too small and my dragon doesn’t like it.

  She blows out a stream of air without blinking, obviously exasperated. “Do you want a date or not?”

  “I want a mate not a date,” I correct her. Now her gaze intensifies and the need to strangle her grows. Not that I actually would. Strangulation holds certain penalties in this realm that I’m not willing to pay right now.

  She continues talking like I’m no threat to her. “We will follow procedure. Finding you a mate begins with setting up a few dates.”

&nbs
p; “No,” I say loudly while fisting my hands to keep from flying across the table. I don’t have time to waste. This woman is insufferable. “A mate is all I require. Match one to me and I’ll try her out.”

  She lifts the top page that I filled out and moves it to the back. She ignores everything I just said and insists on keeping up this stupid charade. “First, I need your shifter proportions—weight, height, and so on when you’re in dragon form.”

  “Why?” I snap.

  She gazes over the top of the paper, completely unruffled by my semi-roar, damn her. “This will be more pleasant if you drop the attitude and help me here. I’m on your side.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” I huff.

  “Look, Mr. AOTRDC, you contacted us. We provide a service. That service entails arranging meetings with several eligible females according to your specifications. If that isn’t what you wish, we can end this interview immediately.”

  I give her my fire-breathing-dragon gaze and she has the audacity not to melt into the floor. “I want a mate,” I say and pound my fist on the table for emphasis. “I will kidnap her and take her to my realm where she’ll be held until she agrees or I decide I don’t want her.”

  Gerri’s face goes from ghost white to red, but I ignore that.

  “My dragon form is as large as this building. Do you want my cock size for your form too?”

  Without blinking, she replies with a stubborn tilt of her head. “That question is on page six, where your sexual preferences are covered. We’ll get there in a moment. This is easier if we do it in order.”

  “It’s gargantuan.”

  She still doesn’t blink. “I’m sure.” She marks a bit of information on the page and flips it over. “What are you looking for in a mate?”

  I close my eyes for a moment and think about it before making a verbal list. I never planned to mate. What my father and uncles went through was enough to turn me off the idea forever. Not that they’re really my uncles but when the dragons were annihilated only four remained and they became each other’s family. “Hmm,” I say while thinking about what would make a decent mate. “Docile, pretty, gently spoken, able to take orders. Frightens easily,” I add because I want her terrified when I kidnap her so we start our mating on the right foot. I open my eyes in time to see Gerri shake her head. “What? You asked.”

  She starts writing again and flips over the next page. “I need your social status.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Can you afford a date, mate, wife, or concubine?”

  I mull the word “concubine” over in my head because I like the sound of it. No, I tell myself. Mate only. This will be bad enough as it is. I don’t need more than one. “I have adequate wealth to keep one of each and it wouldn’t cause a hardship. My castle has just been completed and all it needs is a mate to handle my day-to-day personal care.”

  Another head shake and more writing. She looks up after a few minutes. “Describe what is required for your care.”

  This woman is something else. Are human men really so different that she would need to ask this? “I want meals on the table at the proper time morning, noon, and night. I require a clean castle that runs like a finely tuned machine. My mate will handle those details along with her mate duties in my bed.”

  She rests the papers back on the table. “So basically you want a sex slave?”

  “No.” I shake my head. “A general slave who is seen and not heard would be better. Sex with me will be her bonus.”

  I swear she tries not to smile. She blinks a few times before saying, “I have just the woman in mind. You will date her first and if that doesn’t work out, you will call me and I’ll set you up with someone else. I think Flora will be perfect, and I’m rarely wrong about these things.”

  “Good,” I grunt. “I like the name Flora. It sounds passive enough.”

  Chapter Two

  Flora

  THE BLADE SLICES a centimeter from my brother’s face, causing him to jump back with a grunt. “That’s what you get for letting your guard down, brother dear,” I say without hiding my satisfied grin.

  “I might need to use the flat of my blade across your derrière,” he huffs back with a grimace. He lifts his T-shirt displaying a lean torso and a nice defined six-pack. He uses his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. He probably drives the ladies nuts with that move.

  The last thing I want is a mate like any of my brothers. They’re womanizers, stuck on themselves, and quite selfish if I’m being totally honest. I love them but feel sorry for the poor women who fall for their crap. They each need someone special to show them what love actually is.

  “You may try,” I tell him while trying to remember to breathe. He’s one of my toughest battle partners and I can take him easily but it’s still a workout. I advance and beat his blade with mine to provoke him. It works and he charges. With a flick of my wrist, his sword flies a few feet away.

  “Damn. How do you do that every time?”

  My teeth show with the huge smile. “Practice, big brother, practice.” My cell rings from the corner of the room and I walk over and pick it up. “PDA” shows on the screen. I press accept and my smile widens before I speak. “You have someone you need me to run through or force to his wedding?”

  “No,” Gerri chuckles. “I might have a possible date for you, though.”

  Oh, crap not again. Gerri will never give up. “What makes you think I want a date? You know I love my single status.” I ignore my brother’s scowl and point my sword in his direction to shut him up.

  “This is a special case. I have a dragon shifter who wants to kidnap a woman and hold her in his castle until she agrees to mate with him. I think you’re the woman to put him in his place so he reconsiders his qualifications for the perfect mate. Come on, I’ll pay you. One date, you cut him down to size or two, and you’re off the hook. You owe me.”

  I do owe her. I also wouldn’t mind tangling with a dragon to alleviate the boredom cloud I’m hiding under. “Call me when you have a place and time and I’ll be there. We’re even after this, right?”

  She laughs again. “Yes, completely even. If you leave bruises on him, I’ll owe you.”

  The stupid dragon put Miss Gerri’s panties in a wad. Totally unwise. “You’re on. Do I get a bonus for knocking a few fangs out?” Her laughter rings across the phone and she ends the call. Gerri uses me as a place holder when the right person isn’t yet available for whoever she’s hooking up. The dates have been boring and thankfully not repeated. This one sounds a little more interesting because there’s nothing better than cutting a man down to size when he needs it.

  “You don’t need a date, you need a husband,” Justin says behind me. I do need a husband but the man I’m willing to mate doesn’t exist and is only a fantasy so I’ll pass.

  I turn to my brother and lift my sword again. “This is not a topic I’ll discuss. You know my feelings on marriage.” I lift my sword and fleche, causing my brother to back up quickly to avoid having his throat slit. Talk like this is at an end.

  § § § §

  GERRI CALLED A few days later and gave me specifics for the date. I’m currently going through my closet looking for something to wear. He wants demure and I plan to give it to him. After I have him where I want him, he’ll be a very unhappy dragon. Gerri told me all about his highness and his demands for a mate. When I’m through with him, he’ll think twice about kidnapping a woman.

  I actually find it funny that he’s using the dating service to find his mate. Kidnapping and happily ever after don’t go hand in hand. At least not in my opinion. Then again, I’m dealing with a dragon from a different realm. The question I should ask is why come to this realm to find a date? Dragons are egotistical, stubborn, and at the top of the food chain. This isn’t a good combination at best. At worst it’s a disaster.

  I flip past my go-to little black dress that I usually wear on dinner dates. And yes, I go on dates. My brothers are a pain i
n my ass, so I keep the info about the date on the down low or they’ll want a wedding date written in blood. I pull a flower print long skirt and plain blouse from the back of the closet and shake off the light layer of dust. When Jacob, my only younger brother, gave me the outfit, I bit my tongue. It screams old maid and wallflower combined.

  Perfect.

  With my dark hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of my head, I add a pair of white socks and clunky black shoes better suited for jeans and step back to admire my costume. I look like I’m attending a Westboro Baptist Church meeting, which is exactly what I’m going for in this getup. My granny Coke-bottle glasses complete the ensemble. I have a feeling my dragon date will run straight back to his realm when he gets an eyeful of me. Good riddance.

  I turn at the sound coming from my tenth story window. Pushing against the glass is the squished face of a man. My heart triples in speed as the face moves slightly away and a finger comes up and points to the window lock. My sword is across the room, under my bed, in its sheath—too far to grab before this buffoon breaks the window.

  Buffoon… equals dragon. How the heck did he find me?

  Fury replaces fear. Who the hell does he think he is? With quick strides I march to the window and throw it open. I’m not afraid of this dragon peeping Tom at all. I’ll shove him down to the ground or slam the window on his fingers if he doesn’t take no for an answer. The “no” now encompasses our date. He blew it and I won’t need to sit through a boring meal to knock him down a peg.

  One long, jean-clad leg lifts through the window.

  “Get back. What the heck are you doing?” I demand. I have no idea where to grab to toss him out.

  His other leg slides through, followed by a huge body, making me step back a pace. I disregard the scent that fills the room as his entire body straightens upright.

  I crank my head back. Oh my.

  Six and a half feet of scrumptious male stands in my room. His long, medium blond hair curls in waves around his arresting face. His high cheekbones and strong chin give him an almost prince-like appearance. He’s a gorgeous specimen, and Gerri should have mentioned it. His T-shirt stretches across his massive chest with black boots to complete the bad boy or should I say bad dragon, eye-candy image.

 

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