Dragon Kisses #2 (Arabella and Jonathan)
Blurb:
Waking with no memory, Arabella finds herself courted by three men claiming to be her mates. Dragon shifters Tobin, Gerrit, and Blakely woo her with sweet words and deeds, convincing her that she’s always lived this fairy tale existence. Life is perfect until the Inamanida King decides the experiment has gone on long enough—and Tobin is ordered to turn Arabella over to be tortured and used by the entire clan.
Meanwhile Jonathan is working to help settle the humans in Zmaj’s outer city. As the son of a prominent human leader, finds himself thrust into a leadership role and having to liaise with creatures he was raised to fear. Soon he falls for Laurel, a beautiful woman recently arrived from Earth, but as secrets emerge, he faces a stark truth that could cost him everything.
Tobin and Jonathan must risk everything and deal with consequences that could cost them the fragile relationships they’ve built with the women they love.
Warnings: MFMM, MF
Excerpt #2:
I woke to blinding sunlight, which meant the day was going to be boiling hot. Summers were the worst. At least my room was cool and comfortable. I sat up, and that’s when all the aches and pains hit. My head felt like a balloon, my shoulder killed, and I couldn’t move my arm. I looked down to see white bandages winding down the right side of my body, all the way to my foot. The left side looked okay, but it was murder to move.
The room in which I lay looked more like a bedroom than a hospital. The walls were white, as were the bed linens, and the curtains were deep brown. No bad or inspirational artwork hung on the barren walls. I’d woken up in a tampon commercial. The bed, by the way, was massive. It could swallow me and a few of my closest friends whole.
“You’re awake.”
Looking over, I hurt my neck and saw a gorgeous man coming through the door, so it was sort of worth the pain. He was quite large, broad-shouldered and full of muscles, yet he moved with pantherlike grace. His face was obscured by his long red hair, and thankfully he brushed it away. His face was just as appealing as his body, but he still gave me pause. For one, his eyes were the same shade of red as his hair, and that struck me as weird. Second, I didn’t know him.
He smiled and gently pushed my unhurt shoulder back down. “Don’t try to move. Your injuries are quite severe.”
I settled back on the pillows. “Who are you? Where am I?”
He frowned and pulled back a bit, regarding me as if I had lost my mind. “Who am I? You do not remember?”
I attempted to shake my head, but the movement hurt, so I said, “Remember what?”
His gaze traveled the length of my bandages. “You fell and hit your head. I feared you would not awaken.”
I feared I hadn’t awakened—or that I had lost my mind. “You haven’t told me who you are.”
“Tobin. Do you recall your name?”
Of course I knew my name—I just couldn’t think of it. I searched my mind, but it hid from me, heckling from behind a veil I couldn’t penetrate. “Where am I?”
“Home,” he said, his expression turning sad. “Arabella, you are home.” He opened his mouth to say more, but then he closed it. “I do not know if it is better for you to remember on your own—as you heal—or if I should tell you everything you wish to know.”
Arabella. That sounded right. Yes, the word took definite shape in the shadows of my memory. More was there, but it remained hidden. I tried to coax it out, but it was too timid—almost terrified. Pain knifed through my head, putting a halt to any of that activity. “Why am I not in a hospital?”
That one seemed to throw him, but he recovered quickly. “What would you get in a hospital that you wouldn’t get here? I have been and will continue to care for you.”
“Why?” I searched his face for clues. Why would he go through the time and expense of caring for someone with injuries as extensive as mine? “What am I to you?”
He glanced away, but not quickly enough to hide the flash of pain in his eyes.
This cloak-and-dagger stuff was going to drive me nuts, especially because it concerned my life. “Tobin, please be honest with me.”
“My mate.” He exhaled hard. “You are my mate, and your accident was my fault. I was irresponsible, full of hubris. I wanted to show off for you, and this was the result.”
Fear clutched at my heart, and the feeling of falling through the air made my stomach clench. Suddenly I felt cold and clammy. I tried to turn away so he wouldn’t see, but pain made it come faster. I vomited on my pillow.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authormichelezurlo/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MZurloAuthor
Blog: https://michelezurloauthor.wordpress.com/
Website: http://www.michelezurloauthor.com/
Buy Links: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1RAak9CqlQo4ckl68HnulIfifLOC4kZDUN6om0ywg77s/edit?usp=sharing
Author Bio: I’m Michele Zurlo, author of the Doms of the FBI series and many other stories. I write contemporary and paranormal, BDSM and mainstream—whatever it takes to give my characters the happy endings they deserve.
I’m not half as interesting as my characters. My childhood dreams tended to stretch no further than the next book in my to-be-read pile, and I aspired to be a librarian so I could read all day. I ended up teaching middle school, so that fulfilled part of my dream. Some words of wisdom from an inspiring lady had me tapping out stories on my first laptop, so in the evenings, romantic tales flow from my fingertips.
I’m pretty impulsive when it comes to big decisions, especially when it’s something I’ve never done before. Writing is just one in a long line of impulsive decisions that turned out to showcase my great instincts. Find out more at http://www.michelezurloauthor.com or @MZurloAuthor.
Michele Zurlo 