Monday, December 10, 2007

Bonded Hearts is now released

The first book to my Dragon Riders Series, Bonded Hearts, was released last week at Loose-Id :D

This is a M/M/F book set in the world of Ketall, a world where dragons and humans live together. Each book of the series will center around a different dragon and their bondmate(s).

ISBN: 978-1-59632-580-7

Detective Nick Montgomery finally catches up to the serial killer plaguing Miami, however, he doesn't count on being caught up in the killer's own spell and transported to Ketall. An alternate world of a primitive nature and is home of dragons and magic.

One particular female is Jax, a red-eyed dragon who doesn't exactly like him. Or the idea of having to share her Rider, Kel, with anyone. She’s young, possessive, and spoiled. At least that’s what Kel tells her. So why is she attracted to this off-worlder who interrupts their life? Why does he set her blood boiling with desire every time they are near? And why can’t she kill him to rid her of the annoyance?

Kel is drawn to the stranger he saves from death. More so when he realizes that Nick is also fated to bond with his dragon, Jax. Never has a dragon had two bondmates at one time. But an evil sorcerer and his witch complicates things by trying to send Nick back to his own world. To do so would mean killing both Jax and Kel.

Can the three overcome all obstacles to save themselves and Ketall?

Awareness came slowly to Nick. The floor beneath him rocked leisurely, almost lulling him back into the abyss of unconsciousness, until he was jostled none too gently. The movement slammed the air from his lungs. Just when he caught his breath, the ground jumped from beneath him again.

Nick groaned with pain and forced his eyes open. He tried to lift to his hands and knees, keeping his balance with the sway, but his right leg refused to hold his weight. He tumbled back down and his right arm screamed in protest as he landed hard on it.

“Fuck,” he spat.

The rattle of chains drew Nick’s attention to his surroundings. His eyes finally focused on the wood floor. The sun heated his skin, the sound of birds chirping reached his ears, and a horse neighing let him know he was outside.

His thoughts remained foggy. What was the last thing he remembered?

Chasing a killer. Amos Bronson. And blood. Lots of blood everywhere. There was a light, its brightness and heat burning him, followed by cool darkness. What had happened? How had he gotten outside? And hadn’t it been nighttime?

“He’s awake.” A sharp voice dragged Nick from his cloudy memories.

There were six sets of eyes staring at him. Men of varying ages. Unkempt, streaked with dirt, they were clad only in pants that tied at the waist. The only other items they wore were thick manacles on their wrists from which dangled chains that were locked to the floor.

Prisoners? What the hell was he doing with prisoners? But these men weren’t wearing the normal inmate attire.

“Where the…?” Nick attempted to sit up again, this time being more careful of his leg and arm.

He was in some sort of crude cage. The top and bottom were made of thick wood; the bars surrounding them were solid black iron. The swaying and jostling was the result of the cage being pulled behind a single horse. The creaking wheels kicked up dust from the dirt road.Like the others, thick iron manacles chafed his own wrists, locking him to the floor. Even if he wasn’t chained, there would be no way a man of average height could stand in this cage. Even at his five feet eleven inches, Nick wouldn’t be able to kneel without having to slump down.

“Who are you? Where am I?” He addressed the group at large, his throat dry and scratchy. He shivered and swiped at the sweat dripping down his face. “How did I get here?”

“Found you on the side of the road. The Master thought he’d get some coin for you before you died,” a red-haired man said with a sneer.

Nick shook his head. The Master? Coin before he died? For that matter, what was with the cage? This dirt road? Where the hell was he? Certainly not in Miami. Instead of tall buildings, busy streets, and palm trees, he beheld thick clumps of trees along one side of the road and open fields on the other.

Definitely not Miami.

He closed his eyes. Nothing made sense. Nick ignored the sharp pain in his leg and the way the fabric of his jeans stuck to the wound.

“I don’t --” His words were clipped by the pop of a whip. The six other men flinched and cowered as much as their chains would allow.“No talking, slaves.” A harsh, deep voice boomed from Nick’s left. Turning, he was met with near black eyes. They belonged to a large man dressed like a Ren Faire refugee. His pants were dark brown and resembled leather. His shirt, probably originally white, and now coated with sweat and the dirt from the road, was tight around his bulk. He had several leather bands around his wrists and leather boots encased his feet. The most menacing part of him was the long bullwhip he held in his hand.

Now, back to work finishing my next M/M story I'm hoping to submit by the end of this month :D

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