To Marry A Dragon: To Marry A Dragon

By Nicole Whittaker

If her life was meant for something else, she still didn't know what the hell it was.

This entire day had been strange... Allegra was just a poor waitress in a crappy restaurant. Beaten down by life, she drinks to forget.

Until the day a necklace is given by a stranger.

What will she find?
The quick death she expects that comes with a crappy life? Or the life and love she never believed would happen...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Whittaker
• Release date: Aug 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393467533

Nicole Whittaker

Nicole Whittaker was born in Melbourne, Victoria, Australia to a bloodline of creative people, artists, authors and musicians among them. So it's not surprising that Nicole has created art and fiction from an early age. She specializes in fantasy romance but also dabbles in contemporary as well.

Book preview

Chapter 1

If her life was meant for something else, she still didn't know what the hell it was.

Allegra went back to the tiny table in her tiny trailer trash caravan and picked up the necklace from where it lay. She held it up, and it almost seemed to drink in the light, a swirl of smoke seemed to move deep within the gemstone. Was that her imagination? Was she already drunk?

She took the necklace back into the bathroom, and as she stood before the mirror, she unfastened the clasp and put it around her neck. The huge stone lay at the base of her throat, warm against her skin.

She didn't realize how small the chain was. It was almost more of a choker than a necklace, fitting around her neck as she fastened the clasp. As it clicked into place, she felt something, almost like the piece of jewelry was holding on to her. But that was nuts, right?

Allegra looked at herself in the mirror, the bulbous red gem now fixed in the hollow of her throat. It shimmered, then glowed a deep, dark red.

She watched in fascination and growing panic as the stone brightened. What the hell is going on right now? She thought.

Her first impulse was that the woman that afternoon had left her this thing as a kind of trap. All she wanted to do was get it off, and fast. She reached up and fumbled for the clasp as the smoky red light filled the entire bathroom. She stumbled back out into the main room and the crimson light suffused everything.

Allegra caught her balance by grabbing the wall, but as she touched it she felt the surface melt as if it were turning to gelatin beneath her fingers.

What's happening? she yelled into the empty caravan as it filled with a red light. The walls all around her continuing to melt. The tap, the table, everything looked like it was now made of wax, sliding away into nothingness.

She crouched on the floor, her fingers still clawing at the back of her neck, trying to get the damned thing off. But it was too late.

The caravan was gone. Everything was gone. She was floating in a black void, could see the tiny ice pinpricks of stars all around her, and thought she would throw up. She took her hands from her neck and curled them up around her knees, squeezing her eyes shut.

Her impression was that of moving, not as if she were being propelled, but as if some great force were pulling her across some vast distance at an unspeakable speed. But there was no feeling of air on her face. It was like some kind of surreal carnival ride. She almost hoped she would pass out. She also thought she would die.

Please, she whispered, unable to hear her own words. Don't let this be it. More than ever she wanted to do something with her life, and she hoped this wasn't the end of it.

Time slowed to a stop.

Chapter 2

With her eyes still clenched shut, the first thing she felt was the cold. Goosebumps broke out across her arms and thighs. She was crouching in a ball, her feet now on solid ground. With her eyes still closed, she reached out and felt cold stone.

Shocked, she opened her eyes.

She was in some kind of massive hall. The walls looked like they were made of giant sheets of pale ice stone. Two men stood nearby. They had been talking, and now they turned to look at her.

The taller one was young, about her age. Icy blue eyes and hair so blond it was almost white. He was wearing a weird wet suit that clung to his body, emphasizing his powerful, muscular body. He looked like some kind of comic book superhero, and he was staring at her with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

The other man looked less surprised than he did amused. He was old, a little hunched over and wearing a long white robe. His thick white hair was parted in the middle, and his huge, blue eyes regarded her with a look that seemed as if he'd been expecting her.

Just where the hell was she? And who were these people? One looked like some kind of Viking god, the other like a sorcerer.

She'd been never so disoriented and self-conscious in her life, though the buzz from the cheap wine she'd been drinking was gone, she wondered if she was still drunk. She stood up, keeping one arm across her chest, her other hand covering the patch between her legs.

The old man smiled and took a step toward her. Aris Trismaris, he said. You are here.

Aris Trismaris? What the hell kind of name was that?

We met once, the old man went on. At a feast in the Vanishing Isles. You were just a little girl. He looked her up and down, then smiled again. You are not a little girl anymore.

Oh, crap, she thought. Just who in the hell