Dragon's Game: Moonsongs, #4

By E.J. Wesley

Jenny Moonsong recently inherited the title of "monster hunter" and an ancient tribal journal/how-to manual passed down by her Apache ancestors. She has already faced a werewolf, witches, and a troll. But nothing could prepare her for her latest confrontation...

Dragon's Game, Moonsongs Book 4, finds Jenny out of her rural West Texas element, searching for an evil witch in an urban Houston nightclub. After attempting to help a handsome and mysterious stranger out of a jam, she finds herself on the run from a ruthless gang who are even more dangerous than they initially appear.

Forced into a twisted game of life and death, Jenny must navigate the complexity of a budding relationship, and somehow survive a night filled with unexpected horror and paranormal mystery.

Dragon's Game is approximately 14,000 words or 45 pages of humor, horror and paranormal mystery. It is the fourth volume of the Moonsongs Books, an ongoing series of New Adult, urban fantasy novelettes by author E.J. Wesley.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E.J. Wesley
• Release date: Dec 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781533788139

Book preview

Dragon’s Game

Iraised my hand to shield my eyes from the flashing strobes pulsing just beyond the dance floor. A host of sweaty, absurdly fit bodies were intertwined there, gyrating to the throbbing dubstep music. Glitter covered everything like a dusting of obnoxious, sparkly snow. A potent mixture of odors hung heavy in the air. Alcohol, body odor, and perfume a combined to create a smell that could only be engineered at places where people gathered to party. The tables surrounding the floor were littered with fluted and flaring glasses containing a rainbow of drinks and twisting straws that glowed in the black lights.

I could feel my lip curling as I navigated around the dancing mob toward the bar tucked into a far corner. This place probably doesn’t even have beer on tap.

Clubbing in Houston’s Warehouse District was definitely foreign territory for me, and lately the unknown had been trying to gnaw my face off, kill my friends, or stick a knife in me. I was less than enamored to feel like a fish flopping around on the dock, instead of swimming unnoticed underneath it.

Don’t get me wrong. Learning that my Apache ancestors had been hunting monsters for generations, and that it was now my job to do the same, was an exciting turn of events in my otherwise mundane life. Since moving in with my grandmother during high school, I’d become a pretty simple, small-town Texas girl at heart—a girl who spent unhealthy amounts of time playing military shooter video games and tinkering with computers. But in only a few months on the job as a Moonsong hunter, my little plot twist had cost me my last living relative, earned me a mortal enemy, and ended my best—and only—friendship. Not to mention nearly getting me killed a half-dozen times.

No doubt about it, I’d taken my lumps since I started this gig. That’s actually why I’d ventured to Houston. I decided I’d had enough of being a punching bag for the supernatural freaks of the world. It was time to hit back. Hard.

Before I could reach my destination, the last open seat at the bar, a random douchebag stepped out of a pack of dancers, thrusting his hips right in front of me. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, and my purple faux-hawk reflected in his mirrored sunglasses. I tried to step around him, but he moved with me, making sure my arm brushed up against his well-toned torso in the process.

Houston was ridiculously hot and humid, even when you weren’t crammed into a converted warehouse full of fools jumping up and down. I’d channeled my inner Tomb Raider when picking my outfit for the evening, a purple and black, camouflaged tank top and the shortest shorts I owned. Now I was wishing I had a few more layers between Mr. No-Regard-For-Personal-Space and me.

His sweat lingered on my bare arm, grossing me the hell out. He flashed what I guessed was his most seductive smile, but it only made him look like a frat boy trying to sell me life insurance. I wasn’t smiling when I stomped down hard on his foot with my boot. He careened sideways and let me pass.

What’ll you have? the bartender shouted as I slid onto the stool with a sigh.

I gestured to the dance floor. Anything that won’t turn me into one of them.

He smiled. Beer?

I nodded, and wiped off my arm with the cocktail napkin he’d slapped down. I had to suppress a gag when I saw some of Captain Douchebag’s sparkling freak dust had rubbed off on me.

Great, I’ve probably got glitter in my hair to go along with his special brand of herpes.

I was shaking my head like someone with a swarm of bees in her hair when I heard laughter to my right. The sound made me bite my bottom lip. My take-shit tank was running dangerously low, so I swiveled on my stool to face the person.

Look buddy, I— The first non-pop-star-wannabe I’d seen since I’d walked in the joint sat just a few inches to my right, grinning like we were best friends giving each other hell.

He continued to fiddle with a smartphone a moment longer, and then let his mischievous gray-green eyes drift up to meet mine. He beamed again, flashing two broad rows of dazzling white teeth. I wasn’t sure if the black lights surrounding the bar enhanced the color, or if it was the contrast with his very full, very black beard. The tanned skin