Dragon's Knight Out

By J. Thompson

Lady Penelope has never forgotten the story of Saint George defeating the dragon

Saint her a***

But it's just that... a story.

It was a damn good PR job. She should know. She was there

Only a blast from her past brings back long-forgotten feelings and a reminder that dragons do, in fact, hold grudges.

Can she let go of her anger long enough to let love back into her life? Or will the darkness of betrayal win?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094461519

J. Thompson

J. Thompson is a USA Today Bestselling Author of Paranormal and Sci-Fi romance and a major fan of procrastination. Jenn has always loved history, so using her wild imagination and tying in her love of history and fantasy, she began a new adventure into the world of words. Weaving romance into old worlds and giving life to her mythical inspired novels is what Jenn does best, and she has a lot more planned in the future, including some hard assed demons. When she isn't bent over her laptop with the crazy writer eyes, you will find Jenn making jewellery, cross stitching and it doing paper crafts. Jenn is also an avid lover old skool skills like archery and sword fighting. Maybe a touch nuts Jenn is an author who believes wholeheartedly that people are good and that everyone deserves romance - even Hades. Keep up to date by checking out https://jthompsonauthor.com/

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Penelope tilted her head to look at the oil painting in front of her. It was like every other oil painting she had seen—drab, boring, and depicting the same mundane scenery.

God, she hated paintings like that.

Now sculpture, that was an art she could get her teeth into.

Literally, she snorted and gained a rather odd look from the guard who stood by the exit of the room she had unexpectedly meandered into. That was her issue at the moment. She couldn’t focus on one thing, and lately she’d found herself wandering here and there with nothing to occupy her mind.

She had thought the museum would help, but no. Yet again she had zoned out.

It would have been alright if she had zoned out and spent that time mentally basking in the sun on a Caribbean Island sipping a strawberry daiquiri while some cute cabana boy wafted a fan.

Penelope knew what her issue was.

She was bored, lonely, and the biggie… she was immortal.

Now, she knew to some that would be epic. She had been told multiple times by those she had known over the years. Oh my god, to be immortal, all the things I could do!

Yeah, she had done all the things… twice.

But what was the point when she had no one to do them with. Even her pets couldn’t quell her desire for long.

What she needed was a mate, a male worthy of her time and affection who wouldn’t drive her nuts and make her want to eat him.

She had done the dating thing before it was even named. Penelope eyed another statue, this one depicting a hero on a horse… naked. Why were they always naked?

Shaking her head, she focused back on her primary thoughts. Back when it was called wenching, she had enjoyed the sport, enjoyed the presence of a male in her sheets, but to trust one enough to take as a mate… Well, the last one didn’t turn out so well.

Men—human men—were untrustworthy, arrogant, and in short twats.

Was she being harsh? Probably. But she had been given the tour of personal experience. And when she looked back, she winced at her own naivety, wishing she had fried the bastard before eating him bones and all.

Her feet did their own thing, and Penelope found herself yet again in another room, only this one held small statues that could be picked up and launched. Instead of said action, Penelope merely growled as she eyed the one piece she had hoped to avoid. Her growl was so loud she had to cough to try and cover it. This happened every time she saw this sculpture.

There in front of her, basking in the sunlight, was a statue depicting the defeat of the dragon by Saint George.

Penelope snorted. Saint, my arse.

I’m sorry? a quiet voice inquired from across the room. The small stout man frowned at her before he pushed his spectacles back up his nose.

Nothing, she replied and smiled sweetly. All the while she clenched her fists to hide the claws that had started to erupt from her fingertips. She never had issues with premature shifting. Hell, she was a pro, holding her form for weeks and even months at a time.

But not around him!

Penelope eyed the statue, her eyes wanting to obliterate it with a look. There had been nothing saintly about that man, well unless you counted his abs… and his lips, oh and his eyes. But other than that, he had been nothing but a rogue, a scoundrel, a douche, looking for fame and fortune.

Oh, he got that. But it had come at a cost—one he never had to pay.

She had, though, with her heart.

After a thousand years, her anger had turned into a grudge. She grinned as the thought of pushing the statue off the pedestal crossed her mind.

A grudge… was something.

A grudge from a hormonal, pissed-off immortal dragon was something else entirely.

1

The long, drawn-out sigh that fell from Penelope’s lips filled the small cozy library, rebounded off the walls, and came back at her with a force that made her wince.

She was pathetic.

I heard that, an obscenely posh female voice called from behind a stack of books. "And if you do that again, this large and heavy copy of Dracula will fly through the air and connect with that obscenely hard head of yours."

The voice in question belonged to Olivia, Penelope’s best friend, fellow nerd, and one of the few people in existence who knew her secret. As a best friend, she was privy to all of Penelope’s secrets—even ones of the boom-chicca-bow-wow kind. But also, Olivia knew her true nature, knew that when she said she could just eat someone up, she literally meant it.

"You do know I could eat you," Penelope snarked back as she looked at her nails and contemplated painting them again. She had only done them the day prior. The glittering red sparkled in the sun that shone in from the window. Maybe she should paint them blue this time.

No, you won’t. You’re on a diet. Olivia’s answer was quick and, unfortunately, on point. She wasn’t on a diet, per say, more like avoiding certain foods. Penelope pouted.

Humans are off the menu for quite obvious reasons, Penelope. People would ask questions.

Spoil sport, Penelope mumbled and folded her arms.

Dragonass, was the simple response.

Penelope huffed and sat up from her comfy chair to look over the books at her friend and housemate… and assistant, the list could go on. Penelope was loaded or, as Olivia put it, stonkingly rich. Penelope agreed. After all, she had guarded her treasure well throughout her long life and could live a very comfortable existence. Olivia was tasked with helping her blend into a constantly changing world and do all those tasks she, in short, couldn’t be arsed to do.

As the years had gone by, she’d