Ashlyn Chase - How to Date a Dragon

“With a name like Cameron, it sounds like your hero might be Irish,” Claudia said.

“Or Scottish. I think I remember seeing a Cameron clan wearing their tartan kilts at that Highland Games thing we went to.”

“Oh, yeah. Who could forget those sexy kilts?” Claudia waggled her eyebrows. “So… what does your guy look like?”

“Tall, about six feet. Rugged, great firm ass, green eyes, and hair that’s hard to describe. It’s not blond or red. It’s kind of sandy or light brown with actual yellow streaks. Not highlights like you see on other people. I’m talking about a primary color in half- or quarter-inch stripes.”

“Interesting… What else?”

“He has a side part and it’s long in the front—right to his eyebrows. It kind of angles across his forehead. All shaggy and sexy.” She sighed.

“He sounds like a hunk.”

“Yeah, and if you ever see him, keep your mitts off. He’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t dream of horning in on your territory. You might bite.”

Bliss smiled, at last. “Or tell you to bite me .”

The more Bliss thought about it, the more she liked the idea of making a card for the handsome firefighter. It wouldn’t be one of her trademark Hall-Snark cards. Those were blunt, irreverently honest or flippant, and bordering on rude, but she could come up with something on the fly.

Let’s see… what could I make and drop off at the fire station before I relocate?

“Claudia, can I borrow your computer, printer, and some card stock?”

“Sure. You can use my photos too if you want.”

“You’re sweet, but I have a design in my head that I can draw. I’d make the whole thing with a pen, but my handwriting is terrible and I want him to be able to read it.” Jesus. I’m lucky I can still draw breath, never mind cards, thanks again to Cameron Something or Something Cameron. “Just drawing the artwork will be quicker, and there’s no way you have a picture of what I want.”

“Okay, I’ll give you the necessary stuff and turn on the printer. As for card stock, I happen to have some with matching envelopes. It’s plain white. Is that okay?”

“That’s perfect.”

Drake plopped into his desk chair and powered up his computer.

“Well, I have plenty of time on my hands. Let’s see what kind of trouble I can get into here,” he muttered to himself.

Holding the lovely brunette had reminded him of something he’d been meaning to investigate. Dating websites. That had been on Drake’s to-do list for a while. He craved some kind of company, specifically of the female variety, and loneliness had been setting in big time. The death of his last known relative had made him feel adrift in an aloof sea.

Unfortunately, his mother would never see her fondest wish come true. She had always wanted him to find a nice female dragon, settle down, and continue the species.

He was the last of his line now, and finding another clan had proven nearly impossible. There was an Asian clan in San Francisco, but they had made it clear East Coast dragons weren’t welcome. Thanks again, Uncle Mob Boss.

His uncle had missed the family fortune and power so much, he’d decided to recreate it quickly in any way he could. Loan sharking, running guns, selling drugs to kids. Drake had not only walked away from one fortune, but two. The lair where his family had kept their treasure had caved in at about the same time they had to flee Britain. He wondered if his uncle had something to do with that. If he couldn’t take it with him…

When Drake discovered how his uncle “earned” his new money, he refused to have anything to do with the older dragon. His elder didn’t appreciate being judged but gave Drake a chance to reconsider and join the “family business.” Drake’s principles won out and he packed his bags.

He had originally moved to Boston because he’d heard about a female dragon and a paranormal bar here. Even though the dragon was a prostitute, he was willing to give it a go. He’d do just about anything to honor his dear mother’s wishes. Unfortunately, by the time he acted on the information and found Boston Uncommon, the female had gone home to San Francisco. The guys at the bar said something about all being forgiven and Lily being in her family’s embrace again. Nice for Lily. Not so much for him… and the species.

The only problem with a human hookup was that sometimes during sex, if he overheated before he finished “blowing off steam,” so to speak, his eyes glowed and his skin toughened into hard scales. He could even develop claws, all of which signified a shift he might not be able to stop. A couple of close calls with former female companions had told him he’d have to find someone who could accept him and his secret.

He was fairly sure the young woman whose life and business he had saved saw his alternate form, yet she didn’t faint or scream. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, but he thought he sensed a willing connection, and when he glanced at her finger, he didn’t see a wedding ring.

Maybe I can find a dragon-tolerant human after all. If only I knew where she went…

If only the chief hadn’t had such a need to rip him a new one right then and there, he’d have pursued her. Now she was gone.

He typed in his password to access the dating site and tried to think of some cryptic way to describe himself and what he was looking for that would attract another dragon—or someone who was dragon-tolerant.

Why, oh why didn’t dragons have their own dating site? He snorted to himself and a slight curl of smoke exited his nostrils. Because we’re almost extinct, dumbass. At least that’s what he’d been led to believe.

If dragons were open about their alternate identities, he might be able to find more, but “coming out of the cave” was forbidden. Humans would fear them. Fear leads to hate, and hate leads to discrimination—or worse, annihilation. No. He was stuck. There must be other dragons out there but he had been unable to find them, because each had learned the sad truth about being different.

He sighed and scanned a few profiles. Okay, Cameron. Think. There’s got to be a way to find a like-minded individual. His father had found his mother, and that was before the Internet. She worked in a store specializing in all things Celtic—mostly Scottish and Irish woolens, jewelry with symbolic thistles or Celtic knot designs, some imported foods, and books about Ireland and the United Kingdom.

His paternal grandparents had moved to Nova Scotia from Scotland when his father was a wee lad. He smiled, thinking about how his grandparents spoke. His maternal great-grandparents had come from Ireland a century ago. His great-grandfather on his father’s side was supposedly the “last dragon.” During the Middle Ages, his family had been rich and powerful, but after that debacle, the dragon clans went into hiding. Returning to living in caves, they’d given up everything to protect what was left of their dwindling species.

His father visited New Brunswick one summer, and according to family history, he and his mother had a whirlwind romance. They married the following winter and Drake was born a year later. Surely his mother’s and father’s families weren’t the only dragons to immigrate and intermarry.

There was no “dragon community” he was aware of. How nice it would be to have the Dragon-American club, like the Polish-Americans or French-Americans and many other ethnic subgroups.

Wishing wouldn’t produce results, so he settled in for the great hunt. Thank goodness the site had a free trial. If things kept going the way they were, he might be fired and then he’d need his money while he looked for another job. Ha. Fired while being fireproof. If only they knew…