by Donna Grant
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Table of Contents
About the Author
Copyright Page
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To Jillian S
There’s always laughter and fun whenever you’re around.
Can’t wait to see what kind of trouble we get into next.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A special shout out to everyone at SMP for getting this book ready, including the amazing art department for such a stunning cover that matches the character to perfection. Much thanks and appreciation goes to my exceptional editor, Monique Patterson, as well as her assistant, Mara.
To my amazing agent, Natanya Wheeler who is on this dragon train with me.
A special thanks to my children, Gillian and Connor, as well as my family for the never-ending support. And to G. You know why.
Hats off to my incredible readers and those in the DG Groupies Facebook group for keeping the love of the Dragon Kings alive. Words can’t say how much I adore y’all.
(MIS)ADVENTURES OF A DATING FAILURE BLOG
My Options Suck
Dating sucks.
Being alone sucks.
What is a woman to do when all options … well, suck the big one? That’s what I’ve been asking myself for some time now. I don’t think I can handle even one more horrid date.
Just when I think they can’t get any worse, Fate is standing behind me, waiting to prove how wrong I am. Which happens to be every time I go out lately.
Let me break it down for you, my readers.
I’m on five dating sites. (Honestly, I think I lost my mind for an hour or two because, FIVE? Really?)
Out of those five, two are what I consider real sites that try to match you with someone other than just a hookup.
Now, I can hear all of you asking, “Then why are you on the others? Do you want a hookup?”
The answer to that question is a resounding NO. I’m on those other sites because I have friends who have actually found their current significant others on them. They weren’t looking for hookups, and neither were the people they went out with.
I think there are just so many instant gratification factors out there. Not to mention, people want to find someone they’re compatible with. So, they’ll try anything.
Hence my being on five::shaking my head:: dating sites.
Not to sound conceited, but I don’t have an issue getting noticed by men. Let’s be frank, if you’re on these sites, you have to know how to work a picture. And use filters. We all want to put our best foot forward, especially when the people we’re trying to attract are basing their interest on pictures first. If you can’t get them to notice you there, then you’re in big trouble.
I despise taking selfies (I even hate saying the word).::insert massive eye roll here:: But I do have a few of them. Mostly, I get my BFF to snap pictures of me so they don’t look posed. And then I filter the hell out of them.
I used to think getting all the attention was what I needed from men. It’s only taken me three years to figure out that I was dead wrong.
For those who have been on these sites, we’ve all gotten the unsolicited dick pic. (Seriously, guys. WTF?) I’ve even received them from men I would have bet money wouldn’t do such a thing. So, pictures and bios can be deceiving. As I discovered the hard way.
Needless to say, I used to consider the number of men asking me out from these sites as a success. I admit, I was so desperate to find The One that I went out with just about anyone who could type a text with proper punctuation and spelling.
The fact this blog does so well tells you how abysmal those dates were. Are.
::sigh::
Yes. Are.
I thought I had finally developed an approach to weed out men who weren’t my match—despite what the dating site algorithms might say.
I’m going to stop for a second to tell you that I’m really good at my day job. Really good. And I love it. Why I can’t take the same energy and use it for dating is beyond me, but that’s the rub of it.
So, here I am, moving from the initial wink, smile, wave or whatever it is that a particular site uses for potential couples to greet each other, to having a conversation with a man through the site. Then, one of us, after a day or two, gives our phone number so the communication can move to our mobile devices.
It’s the next step. During all of this, we’re asking each other questions, seeing if we have anything in common, and just making sure the other person isn’t a complete psycho.
(It’s happened. So, all of you who just chuckled at that comment, just wait. It’ll happen to you, too. Be prepared!)
If we’ve moved on to exchanging numbers, then obviously we each believe there’s a potential connection possible—at least we hope there is. By this time, we’ve talked about wanting to meet the other. I usually ask for an actual phone call at this point, but I’ve recently moved beyond that to FaceTiming.
I truly believed that this would be my way of sorting through those that might look good through text and in pictures but just not live up to that in real life. Because, let’s be honest, IRL matters, people.
A lot.
Out of the five sites, along with my new approach, I had six dates over the last two weeks.
Hold on, all of you who are freaking out at that number. Understand that if I had clicked with any of these men, I would have cancelled any other date. I’m a one-man woman. My mother taught me to share, but not when it comes to my men.:D
My expectations for these dates have severely diminished over the years. (Gah! Years. Years!!!)
::headdesk::
However, I do get excited because if I don’t have any enthusiasm to meet a man, then why in the world would I agree to a date in the first place?
Because I’ve been at this for so long, I like to keep track of what has worked and what hasn’t. The entire point is that I don’t want to spend my life alone. It just makes good sense to take notes.
I won’t tell you how many dates I’ve been on in the last year because even I am shocked by the number. When I counted, it was a good thing I was sitting down and had already drunk half a glass of wine. Otherwise, I might have fainted.
What I will tell you is that out of those dates, less than half resulted in second dates. And less than a third of those became third dates.
And there were no fourth dates.
::loud sigh::
I’m constantly meeting new men, so I’m beginning to think that I need to write a book on how to put nerves aside the first time you meet up with someone. Not sure anyone would buy it since I’ve obviously failed at securing a boyfriend.
Then again, it’s not all my fault. There are two people on a date, so I’ll only take half the responsibility.
The thing is, seeing the actual numbers for the last year was … disheartening. In this day and age, it seems the only way to meet someone is through the dating sites. However, I’m beginning to believe that it’s just not going to work for me.
I think I’m going to be that spinster cat lady who
all the kids play pranks on. And while that used to terrify me, my pathetic and ineffectual hunt for The One has shown me something.
I’m okay on my own. It’s not what I’d like or even what I’d hoped for, but there are worse things. I like my own company. I’m not one of those who can’t survive without having a significant other (and I’ve run across plenty of men like that, so it isn’t just women). I can go to the movies on my own. I can even go out to eat on my own.
To all those out there searching—or maybe just waiting and hoping—to meet your One, keep your heart open. As for me, I’m going to go on one last date tonight before I shut down all the dating sites and give myself a little break.
Never fear, I’ve got a ton more stories that I’ve not written about, so I won’t disappear anytime soon.
Until next time!
CHAPTER ONE
Dreagan
April
Things weren’t going well, and they didn’t look to be improving anytime soon.
V wearily ran a hand down his face. All he wanted was to go to his mountain and figure out why his sword wouldn’t work. But he couldn’t. If he did, every Dragon King at Dreagan would know that something was wrong.
Eons after having his sword stolen and then hidden from him, it was now back in his possession. But it did no good. And every King was counting on him to use it in order to check on the dragons.
He paced his room inside the manor, wondering if it was somehow his fault that his weapon wouldn’t respond to him anymore. Had he done something to…? That couldn’t be it. The blade was his, part of him. All Dragon Kings had a sword that only they could use.
So, if it wasn’t him, then what was it? What kept him from being able to use his blade to check on the dragons? Ever since the Kings forced the dragons to leave during the war with the humans, they’d had no idea if their clans were alive or not. The Kings didn’t even know where the dragons were.
The dragon bridge was a manifestation of the combined magic of all the Kings, and it was the one and only time they had ever used such a thing.
V couldn’t stay in his chamber any longer. He stalked from his room and made his way downstairs. As he walked across the vast expanse of Dreagan—staying far from the Visitor’s Center at the distillery where people lined up to take tours—he was glad he didn’t run into any of his brethren.
Only Cináed knew about his conundrum. If this continued, V would have no choice but to tell the rest of the Kings. After everything he and Roman had gone through in Iceland just to find his stolen sword, it wasn’t right that he couldn’t make it work properly.
V kept walking. He didn’t care where he went. He just needed to burn off some of the anger and anxiety that churned within him like a raging storm. His first choice would be shifting into his true form and taking to the skies, but that wasn’t something they could do during the day. The fact that they were hiding from the humans prevented it.
V could use his power. Every Dragon King was granted a special type of magic. For him, it was disguising his dragon form when he shifted. He was so tempted to do that, but he didn’t. It wouldn’t be fair for him to take to the skies while the others could not.
He had no idea how much time had passed before he found himself walking along a paved road. V paused and looked up to get his bearings. He was no longer on Dreagan, and with their land encompassing sixty thousand acres, that meant he had walked quite a ways.
V heard the roar of an approaching engine. He grimaced when he recognized the unmistakable sound of the Maserati GranTurismo MC Stradale that belonged to none other than Constantine, King of Dragon Kings.
V watched as the bright blue sports car came into view. And just as expected, Con slowed when he spotted V. The Dragon Kings were the most powerful beings of the realm, but even they had someone to answer to. That someone for V was Constantine.
Con rolled down his window, his black eyes locking on V’s face. He was attired in his usual—a suit, starched shirt, gold dragon head cufflinks, and no tie. “Everything all right?” he asked.
V nodded. “Just walking.”
A blond brow shot up on Con’s forehead. “Toward the village?”
“I needed to stretch my legs.”
“And you couldn’t do that on Dreagan? Or was it that you didn’t want to run into any Kings?”
V blew out a breath and looked over the top of the car to the opposite side of the road where some sheep grazed on the steep hill.
“I see,” Con said after a moment. “You know you can talk to me about whatever is troubling you.”
“I know.” V met Con’s black gaze. “I just need some time. Finally having my sword back after so many millions of years without it is taking some getting used to.”
Con blinked, his expression devoid of any emotion, but V knew him well enough to know that Con was trying to discover what V hid. It was one of the many reasons Con was King of Kings.
“You know where to find me,” Con replied.
V gave a nod. Con stared at him a moment longer before he drove off. The last thing anyone at Dreagan needed was the knowledge that something was wrong with V’s sword. With all he and Roman had discovered in the mountain on Iceland regarding the Others, there was much the Kings had to do.
The Others.
The mere thought of them made V want to retaliate. The mysterious group was a mix of good and evil Druids, as well as Dark and Light Fae. Why such an alliance would form still confused the Kings.
Worse, the Others seemed to be after the Dragon Kings. And they had waited thousands of years before taking action. Though no one knew why the Others had been so patient.
Or what they were after.
V waited until he saw the taillights of Con’s car disappear over a hill before he turned and resumed his walk. He couldn’t think about the Others right now. He had to focus on his sword. Yet, the two were connected.
It was the Others who initially tried to get his sword. Fortunately, a group of humans that V had once protected discovered the Others’ plan and used their skills to steal the weapon from V and hide it before the Others could lay claim to it.
V wished the gypsies would have shared their plan, but he knew he wouldn’t have listened to them even if they had tried. He would’ve told them that he could take care of things himself. The truth, however, was that he would’ve underestimated the Others. The gypsies had not.
The Others spelled V so he lost his memories about when and how his sword had been stolen. But he remembered now. His memories gave him little insight into the group, however. What they did show him was the lengths that some mortals would go to in order to help the Dragon Kings.
That was in direct opposition to what the majority of humans had done to the Kings in the past, the transgressions which began the war between them. V still couldn’t believe that the Dragon Kings—the strongest, greatest beings in the realm—had given up everything.
That was a road V didn’t need to wander down. His mind returned to the Others. Despite the gypsies’ attempt, the Others found the man who had taken V’s sword. The gypsies made sure that the Others couldn’t touch it, but the nefarious group put other traps in place throughout the mountain in Iceland to hinder anyone’s attempts to retrieve the weapon.
It was with great difficulty and the help of friends that V and Roman were able to escape the mountain, not only with their lives but also with the sword.
This wasn’t the first time the Others had set traps and deceptions for the Kings. Perhaps it was because of the tricks the Others used that V was apprehensive. First, it had been the wooden dragon carved as a replica of Con. One touch, and the figurine caused chaos to erupt.
Then there was the incident in New York with the black dagger and a fellow King, Dorian.
And now this.
At least, those were the only ones V knew of. There could be more. That in itself made his worry double.
It had taken all of V’s considerable magic and strength to bust through
the spells woven through his memories from the Others. For millions of years, V hadn’t known that anyone touched his mind. But now, he knew what to look for.
His mind was clean of any enchantment from the Others, but he hadn’t checked his sword yet. In fact, he hadn’t held it since attempting to use it after returning to Dreagan.
For eons, he’d lived with the knowledge that he’d failed as a King because mortals had stolen his sword. While he now knew the truth, it didn’t help him feel any better.
He was a Dragon King. No one should have been able to get to him through magic. No one. But they did.
With tragic results.
If he’d kept a hold of his sword, he could have checked on the dragons several times. And called them home.
V looked up and found himself standing in front of the medical clinic. Sophie, who was mated to another King, Darius, ran it. Many of the Kings hadn’t been sure how Sophie could continue to work as a doctor and keep the secrets of Dreagan, but so far, she’d done admirably.
She wouldn’t be able to do that forever, though. As a mate, she was given the gift of immortality. Sophie had a few more years before others started to notice that she didn’t age. Then, she would have to close the practice for a few generations before she could open it up once more.
V’s gaze swung to the parking lot as he heard the squeal of tires and a white Mini with black racing stripes pulled to a stop. He sidestepped to conceal himself behind a tree and watched as Claire got out of her car. V couldn’t understand how she drove so fast and didn’t worry about getting killed. He gave her credit for being an expert driver, but mortals only had one life. He really wished she would slow down.
Her blond locks were haphazardly pulled back into what he had heard Sophie call a messy bun—whatever that was. He didn’t care what it was called. He just knew that he liked it on Claire. He liked it more when she left her locks free to fall down her back.
She was always changing her look. Some days, she had on vivid makeup with her long hair styled in various ways. Other days, she wore very little makeup and had a messy bun.
