The Princess' Dragon Lord

By Mandy Rosko

A dragon's desire will burn for a thousand years...

Timid Diana Winters doesn't get much excitement, until she goes for a hike in the woods and is attacked by the trees.

Like out of a fairytale nightmare they uproot themselves and go on the offensive, and she is chased through the forest before tumbling down a waterfall, only to wake up in the bed of the most gorgeous man she's ever seen, who claims to be a dragon lord, and her husband who killed her a thousand years ago on their wedding day!

Lord Azoth Dracamire vows to never have meant her any harm. Someone put a potion in his goblet on the day of their marriage, and he has paid for it every day since for a thousand years.

Although Diana struggles with the physical pull she feels towards him and Azoth's obvious lust for her, one thing is certain: someone sent those monsters after her in the forest, and they still want her dead. Now she must decide if her new and conflicting emotions towards her husband, a man she doesn't know, are worth risking her life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mandy Rosko
• Release date: Mar 17, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476416595

Mandy Rosko

USA Today Bestselling and award winning author Mandy Rosko loves writing paranormal romances with werewolves, dragons and people with special powers. She is the author of the Things in the Night Series, Night and Day, and the Dangerous Creatures Series.She does M/F, M/M, a touch of medieval under her other pen name, Rizzo Rosko, and pretty much anything else she's in the mood to write (which makes things confusing for readers since that means she's too much of a flake to stick to any one brand).Favorite authors right now are anyone who writes dangerous and tortured heroes ;)If you want to keep up to date on the sexy guys in my hot new releases, then sign up for my Newsletter and receive a free copy of The Vampire's Curse: http://mandyrosko.com/contact.htmlAnd on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MandyRoskoRomanceThings in the Night Series:The Vampire's CurseThe Legend of the WerewolfThe Shepard's AgonyThe Dragon and the Wolf (A prequel novella)Night and Day Series:Night and DayThe Calm Before The StormAll Hell Breaking LooseBook Four Coming Soon!Dangerous Creatures:Burns Like FireA Shock To Your SystemAs Cold As Ice Coming December 8th 2015

Book preview

The Princess' Dragon Lord

By Mandy Rosko

A dragon's desire will burn for a thousand years...

Timid Diana Winters doesn't get much excitement, until she goes for a hike in the woods and is attacked by the trees.

Like out of a fairytale nightmare they uproot themselves and go on the offensive, and she is chased through the forest before tumbling down a waterfall, only to wake up in the bed of the most gorgeous man she's ever seen, who claims to be a dragon lord, and her husband who killed her a thousand years ago on their wedding day!

Lord Azoth Dracamire vows to never have meant her any harm, someone put a potion in his goblet on the day of their marriage, and he has paid for it every day since for a thousand years.

Although Diana struggles with the physical pull she feels towards him and Azoth's obvious lust for her, one thing is certain: someone sent those monsters after her in the forest, and they still want her dead. Now she must decide if her new and conflicting emotions towards her husband, a man she doesn't know, are worth risking her life.

The Princess' Dragon Lord

By Mandy Rosko

Copyright 2012 Mandy Rosko

Smashwords Edition

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Chapter One

The only thing noticeably odd about the mirror was the fact that she’d found it at all. Diana Winters turned her head this way and that, thinking maybe she’d find a tent or a camp full of people somewhere who owned it through the trees—she hadn't gone that far off the trail—because surely no one could just lose something like this.

It was an oval shape, not much larger than a regular hand mirror, except without the handle, but she could have sworn that the metal frame that encased it was made out of silver. Real silver. The gemstones looked pretty damn good too, not that she was an expert on precious stones or anything.

Despite that, somehow she doubted it was made from steel, and glass. It was glittery and heavy. The kind of thing your super rich, obscure relative left you in their will, passed down from the last ten generations.

Because it was the habit of most people to look at themselves when a mirror was in front of them, Diana's eyes were drawn to those of her reflection before she could stop herself. The natural place for her vision to then focus on was the scar that ran a diagonal line from her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, before touching down on her cheek.

She turned away from the reflection, focusing on the more interesting matter at hand, the mirror itself.

The rubies—they were red, cut, and shiny, so what else could they be?—were bright, and added a lot of the weight to the mirror. There was even a dragon molded into the frame. Actually, the dragon was the frame. It circled the mirror like a creature possessive of its toy. The rubies acted as the dragon's eyes, as well as being an extra set of treasure for it to grip in its tiny, sharp, claws, feet, and long jaws.

Diana Winters had never seen anything more beautiful, and though she'd never been a girl enslaved to shiny things, she wanted to keep it close and admire it forever.

It was easy for her to admit that she was definitely going to have a hard time returning this. Providing she found the owner, of course.

Hesitantly, she wiped away some of the moss that had clung to the frame, and then slipped it into her bag with the rest of her supplies. For now, she told herself.

If some camper came looking she would hand it over no question, but with a tad of annoyance for not being able to keep it herself. Otherwise, it wasn't like she could ask any random tourist, hey, does this priceless looking mirror belong to you? and expect a truthful answer.

But, she thought, I'll be honest if someone asks about it. If no other hiker came to her and asked, she'd drop it off at the lost and found back at the café. That would be the end of it.

Feeling good about her silent, noble promise, and taking a mental snapshot of the area so she'd remember where she found the mirror, Diana continued on her hike, farther away from the wide wooden trail of the park and up the hill of trees.

Tourists who came to see the wonders of British Columbia's rich forests didn't stray this way often. They were warned against it by the park employees, and then again by the signs cautioning the visitors to stay on the trails and not leave open containers of food lying around. Diana walked by them and went deeper into the trees. She had spoken to the people she needed to, explained what she'd wanted to do, told them which direction she was going in, and after some gentle coaxing—begging—was granted permission. She'd offered her cell number in case there was a problem, but they'd given her one of their cool black, heavy duty looking walkie-talkies instead. She'd examined it, and the thing had a radio built inside and a compass, but she already had one of those. It was probably all sorts of weather proof too.

She didn't think she'd need it. Diana wasn't planning on staying for long, but having the added weight of the thing in her pack made her feel that extra bit of security, so she didn't argue when it was shoved on her. She didn't even pack a candy bar, much less a lunch, after one of the rangers mentioned bears and mountain lions.

Unlikely to run into either, but she, and the park employees, didn't want to take the risk.

She trekked higher into the hills, casting her eyes around, searching. The trails below were now lost through the distance of trees, but she could still make out the gushing sounds from the Twin Falls, a relatively small—if over fifty feet tall could be considered that—waterfall which was powered by a heavy stream running through the park, fed by the snow capped gray mountains.

Not finding what she was hoping for, she adjusted her pack and the case in her hand and continued on, her red hiking boots sinking softly into the untouched moss and earth and fallen twigs.

Everything was damp with the recent rains, but it made everything seem so much more colorful. The brown earth was fresh and dark, the algae on the thick branches and trunks of the cedars and spruce's was powder green. Everything was alive and singing, and since it was her day off, she'd brought out her paints.

What she wanted was a nice view of the trees, one tree really, at a two point perspective. That would totally give her a great subject and encompass much of the scenery around her.

The key now would be to find that perfect subject, but also hope for it to be on a part of this hill that flattened out just enough so she could set up her easel and make sure it would be steady for what she wanted to do.

Yeah, not easy. The rain may have made everything all pretty and misty, but it was hell finding a solid surface. She'd gotten so high she stopped hearing the rush of water beneath her, and had started to fear that she'd come out of the trees altogether, before suddenly, she stumbled upon the perfect spot.

Really, it was…well, she wasn't a poet and didn't know any words other than perfect, but there it was.

The clouds didn't give way to let down that single ray of sunshine that would have set the scene, but it was just what she'd been searching for.

It was a small clearing. Like, really small. It would barely accommodate her stool, easel, and supplies for the view she was after, but it would work while still giving her enough room to comfortably paint without branches scratching at her or the wet canvas in a gust of wind.

She put down her case and shifted out of her pack, not minding the cold wet from the earth that seeped through her jeans at the knees as she unloaded everything.

Her brushes were still looking good in the ziplock bag she carried them in. Jar of water. Where the hell was her palette?

A tiny chirp and a twitter brought her attention away from her supplies and down to her lower right. A lime green cricket, and beige-brown mouse were sitting there, looking up at her. The mouse's nose stretched out and whiskers twitching. The cricket