Onyx Dragons: Amber

He's the only man who threatens my inner peace.

And losing my temper would mean war.

Amber is a calm, buttoned-up accountant until someone brings out her inner dragon.

And the one who always threatens to do it?

Darcy. 

A gorgeous, tantalizing man. 

Darcy's totally incapable of handling her when she shifts. How can he tease her so fearlessly? He tempts her to break out of her carefully controlled life, but losing her temper would endanger her family.

She can't break the dragon-human treaty on this fragile planet, Earth.

Better to button up and hide away from this relentless human who seems just as determined to chase her...

This is a complete novel with a happy ending! It features steamy dragon shifter love scenes, a twist on the old fairy tale "tower rescue" scene, and a debonair hero who will do anything to convince his superpowered heroine that he loves her just the way she is. Must love dragons!

Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

Amber raced into the abandoned alley in Portland, Oregon, to the bar where her brothers were celebrating. It was the first and only time they had invited her out, and she’d gotten lost.

Please don’t leave.

The human map directed her around a corner. She slowed, searching the slimy brick for a seam. Muck dripped into festering pools dripped beneath rotten dumpsters. Her footsteps echoed.

Another set of footsteps matched hers.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up.

She whirled.

Nothing.

Her heart thudded. Urgency pulsed in her veins. She tightened her grip on her Hermes leather handbag and slowly turned back to the brick wall…

Oh, there was the corner!

She squeezed between two dumpsters into a narrower alley. Her maroon Mary Janes crunched broken glass.

Wind moaned above the narrow space, but no air disturbed the claustrophobic stone. Overhead, low metal trellises closed over her like bars. The moon disappeared behind the jagged buildings.

Footsteps sounded again. Off-rhythm echoes and a slide that couldn’t possibly belong to her.

The alley closed in on a dead end.

No!

An even smaller, tighter corner hinted at freedom. She began to run. Amber whipped around the corner—

Rusty chain link blocked the exit.

She stopped. Her heart pounded. Every instinct urged her to flee. Rush the fence. Go. Now.

On the other side was an empty parking lot. Plastic bags rustled like the warning hiss of a cobra. The lone streetlamp flickered and went out, plunging her into darkness.

The footsteps sounded again. Speeding up.

Even though she wasn’t walking.

Amber whirled and braced her Hermes bag in front of her. “Is someone there?”

No answer.

The footsteps stopped. Movement whispered in the shadows. Someone positioned to strike.

And then…nothing.

Was it all in her head? Or did the moaning wind disguise a heavy pant?

Amber didn’t have time to play in the dark. But she also didn’t want to call attention to herself. She slid one foot forward, testing the uneven concrete, and tensed.

Her phone jangled.

Amber jumped and fumbled the phone to her ear. “H-hello? Hello?”

“Amber, you answered. What an unexpected pleasure.”

Relief rushed through her.

“It’s not a pleasure, it’s a phone call.” She swung her handbag over her shoulder, smoothed her turtleneck, and suppressed the tingle Darcy always made her feel. The alley no longer looked so dark and confining. “And I didn’t realize it was you. What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, as always.” His voice pitched low, and his audible smile teased her senses. “The party’s breaking up. Are you still coming out?”

Panic squeezed her chest. “Don’t leave! I got lost.”

“Where are you?”

“I followed directions to The Punk Underground.”

“Why? We’re at Funk & Grounds. It’s a daytime coffeehouse and nighttime bar.” His tone changed. “Hold tight. I’ll come to you.”

“No! If you leave, everyone else will too.” Amber stalked the chain link for an exit that didn’t require her to run into total darkness.

“You’re not safe. They closed the bar a decade ago, and the neighborhood was bad then.”

“Okay, but don’t leave.”

“Amber—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t!”

She held the phone away from her face, finger hovering over the button to end the call.

The streetlight flickered on again, casting dim light on the nasty black grime. Oh, thank goodness, she could see.

“Amber!” Darcy sounded tinny from her arm’s distance. “Amber, don’t hang up. I’ll stay, just talk to me while you walk.”

“Yes, sure,” she told the phone, holding it in front of her. “The light’s come on again, so…”

A stringy man blocked the alley.

She jumped and squeaked. “Oh, goodness. You startled me.”

“…Amber? Amber, what startled you?…”

The man slouched. A hoodie shadowed his face.

Amber clutched her purse to her chest and tried to edge past him. “Excuse me.”

He waved a rusty box cutter in her face. “Phone. Purse.”

“What?”

“…Amber, I’m coming…”

He smacked her hand holding the phone.

Amber dropped it. The screen went black, and Darcy’s concerned voice cut off.

“Purse.”

She ignored him. “My phone!”

The blade zipped. He sliced the leather handles.

“My purse!” She grabbed her bag.

He nicked her chin.

She stumbled back. “Ow.”

He followed and slammed her into the brick.

Her breath whooshed, and she couldn’t suck it back in. Amber’s mouth gaped.

The man grinned. He slid the blade across her shirt. The turtleneck parted to reveal her breasts. He pocketed the knife and unbuttoned his grimy jeans.

Adrenaline poured into her body. Her heart pumped, blood sang, fingers trembled. She got her breath back. “No!”

He smacked her forehead.

But she was finally coming to her senses.

Amber’s neck muscles tightened.

Her head didn’t tap the brick.

The man didn’t notice. His pants dropped to his knees. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He pushed up her pencil skirt.

She stepped forward, forcing him back a step. “I said, no.”

He brandished the box cutter.

Adrenaline flipped into rage. He’d wrecked her shirt. He’d wrecked her purse. He might have wrecked her phone. “You’re making me late to a party.”

His nostrils flared with rage.

He lunged and stabbed her right in the chest.

The box cutter bounced off.

He lifted it in confusion.

The blade was bent.

On her chest, diamond-hard amber dragon scales shimmered, protecting her human skin.

His wide eyes lifted to her face.

She knew what he would see.

Fire crackled in her auburn hair. Light glimmered in her mouth. Heat pooled deep in her throat. Her body strained the seams of her clothing.

Her voice pitched an octave lower. “You’ve ruined everything.”

The puny man backed away. “Wh-what are you?”

“I’m a dragon…and…”

He turned to run, tripped on his still-lowered pants, and hit the concrete. He rolled and scrambled, scurry-crawling like a wounded cockroach.

Heat erupted from her mouth in a blaze of fire.

“I’m furious!”