Evan and the Dragonslayer: Adventure Kids, #3

By T. James Logan

A dark night, a hungry dragon, and a teddy bear that comes to life...

Evan thinks he's too old for teddy bears, until he discovers that his tattered, old teddy bear can talk.

And it tells him some mighty scary things, like there's a real, live, actual, holy smokes, hungry dragon coming to eat all his family's livestock.

It's up to Evan and his trusty old friend to stop the dragon and save all the animals...without getting barbecued themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bear Paw Publishing
• Release date: Apr 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393969914

Book preview

Evan

and the

Dragonslayer

By

T. James Logan

Bear Paw Publishing Denver

www.bearpawpublishing.com

Copyright © 2020 by T. James Logan

Cover Illustration by João Rodri

Cover Design by Kaylen Helgason

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical without explicit permission in writing from the Author or Publisher.

I

H ere there be dragons, matey, said a little voice in Evan’s ear, drawing him out of slumber.

He lay in his bed, looking around his dark bedroom.

Or had it been a dream?

Nothing looked out of place. Moonlight streamed through the window, splashing silver glow across his dresser, across his baseball bat and glove, onto his open closet door. Outside, far across the yard, Trixie was barking at something. The chickens were long since asleep on their roosts above Hiccup the goat’s bed of straw. The coyotes Evan had heard at dusk had subsided their yakking into their nightly hunts.

A chill still trickled through him at the sound of the voice.

Had it been real? It was so close, as if someone had just whispered in his ear.

The house around him lay dark and silent.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out if he was awake. His alarm clock read 4:02. He couldn’t remember ever being awake at this hour before.

Arr, matey, rouse yerself, the voice said.

Now he was awake.

He looked toward the sound, his headboard shelf, where he kept a few books and toys, including his old teddy bear, which he called Pooh. It didn’t look at all like Winnie the Pooh—Grandma had made this Pooh for him when he was born—but that’s what Evan had always called him, for as long as he could remember. After thirteen years in Evan’s care—the first seven or eight of which had seen Pooh dragged around everywhere he went—Pooh looked more than a little stained