McShayne's Dragon: McShayne Bloodline, #1

By Nicole Dennis

Betrayed, Morric McShayne, a bloodline elemental witch, wakes during a lightning storm, bound to a post—the latest sacrifice to appease a dragon. He swears to survive as the last McShayne and there is no dragon until a powerful claw plucks him away from the precipice.

With every equinox, the dragon's keeper, Xavier, pushes back the loneliness. The keeper holds a secret until magic flares. This sacrifice is different.

They battle desire and duty. When a single kiss changes everything, can the Fae help them answer more secrets and a legend's promise? Do they fight against Fate's choice?

 

 

McShayne Bloodline

Magic passed through ancient bloodlines for generations. A powerful family gifted with a blend of Elf, Fae, and Human magic, the McShaynes watched over the balance of nature. While the Otherkin receded from any mortal connection, the McShaynes refuse to leave their ancestral lands. Until the humans turn against magic.

Four McShayne sons spread across the lands. Each one fears he is the last. They fight to survive the harsh atmosphere, maintain their bloodline gifts, and discover love and the true meaning of family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nicole Dennis
• Release date: Nov 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223441250

Book preview

McShayne’s Dragon

McShayne Bloodline #1

Nicole Dennis

Blurb:

Betrayed, Morric McShayne, a bloodline elemental witch, wakes during a lightning storm, bound to a post—the latest sacrifice to appease a dragon. He swears to survive as the last McShayne and there is no dragon until a powerful claw plucks him away from the precipice.

With every equinox, the dragon’s keeper, Xavier, pushes back the loneliness. The keeper holds a secret until magic flares. This sacrifice is different.

They battle desire and duty. When a single kiss changes everything, can the Fae help them answer more secrets and a legend’s promise? Do they fight against Fate’s choice?

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

McShayne’s Dragon

Version 2

Copyright 2021 by Nicole Dennis

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. For permission requests and all other inquiries, contact: [e-mail]

Published by FatCat Books Ink

https://www.nicoledennis.net

Cover Art and Edited by Kris Jacen at https://www.krisjacen.com/three-hearts

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

Issued 2021

This book is licensed to the original purchases only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.

CHAPTER ONE

There had to be an ironic explanation for this entire situation. It couldn’t possibly be reality, but this felt more than a simple dream, even the nastiest nightmare.

Morric McShayne blinked open his crusty eyelids. His vision blurred and darkened. His head ached and felt heavy. He didn’t remember taking one of his sleeping potions to help get past one of the many sleepless nights. Thanks to that blasted dream and those eyes haunting him. Those brilliant emerald eyes. He didn’t know who those eyes belonged too. A rich tenor tone with a lilting accent whispered mate to him. The voice went with those eyes.

Only he didn’t dream those eyes tonight. This wasn’t a dream. This wasn’t even a regular sleep. This was something else.

Morric wiggled his jaw. A harsh flare of pain spread across one cheekbone. He winced against it, then groaned and mumbled under his breath.

Drugged and punched. What in the name of the Crone did I do this time? Give someone the wrong tea?

No, someone gave him the wrong tea. At the town meeting last night.

Morric remembered performing the vernal equinox dance within his protective circle to spread nature’s energy into the land. He’d reenergized the forest and land after the long winter’s sleep and prepared it to accept and grow the new seed. While he danced, he pulled down the energy and light from the full moon to replenish the earth. The gifts of the three Blessed Ladies joined him to bring life back. Of course, he did all this sky-clad, as was his custom with all his equinox dances. Only when he finished did he feel someone’s gaze upon him. Someone invaded his sanctuary. Dark hateful energy came with the obtrusive gaze and broke harsh against the welcoming warm energy and light created by the dance.

After pulling on his robes, he returned to his snug cabin. Dressing, he groomed himself in proper town attire. He left his beloved forest to head into town for the dreaded meeting. He rarely went into the small town, but it was one of those mandatory town-hall meetings that happen every season. If he didn’t go, the town would try to pass some new law to make all his work illegal or take away his lands and plow through the forest to make way for some new farming land. They tried it exactly once when he didn’t go to a meeting and he made sure either option would never pass. No one tried to propose the law again, but he made enemies with his vehement determination to protect his life and the forest.

Something happened at last night’s meeting.

The memories were fuzzy, but Morric remembered accepting the cup from Lady Jackson. That was the only time he didn’t keep track of where his cup of tea came from. After that, the night became a blank.

Wake up, Morric! Figure out what’s going on. You’re not home. Trouble. This all means trouble. In the name of the Crone, wake up!

Bright light flashed. The deep rumble of thunder grew into a raucous roar. The sound of it vibrated the very Earth. Cold droplets continued to splash across his skin. His russet brown hair draped past his shoulders; thick wet strands flopped across his face. Clothing hung against his body, saturated and clinging to his chilled skin. His shoulders ached. When he tried to pull them