Please welcome my guest blogger today, the very talented Doris O'Connor with THE DRAGON IN THE STONE
I always
say I find inspiration in all sorts of places and this story is no exception.
The idea
first came to me during a walk with my kids last summer. As we were meandering
past the stream in one of our local parks, my ten year old daughter piped up.
“Look
mummy, that’s the stone that looks like a dragon.”
She pointed
toward a rock formation that made up one side. Now, I’ll be honest I didn’t see
a dragon, just rock, lol, but she was adamant it was a dragon. As were the
other kids, when they looked.
So, it got
me thinking about this girl who sees the dragon in the stone. The idea was
born, and when the lovely Rhonda in my reader Group, The RavDor Chicks asked me
to write dragon story… the rest is history as they say. J
The Dragon
in the Stone was my NaNoWriMo effort last year, and you know with the awesome
Gary Taylor as my visual inspiration for Lord Drorgan, my fingers flew.
You can
check out my Pinterest board for this story here: https://uk.pinterest.com/dorisoconnor/the-dragon-in-the-stone/
Not only did I win NaNoWriMo, but I had the story submitted and
accepted by the end of November, something of a record for me, I tell you. And
that was with me wanting to bash Dorgan’s and Rhonda’s heads together, at time.
They’re as stubborn as each other, and I was beginning to despair that they
ever would get it together. When they do… well, he’s a dragon and things get
HAWT in an entirely different way.
*winks*
I loved
writing these two, and I hope my readers will too.
Blurb:
~Editor’s
Pick~
Penance needs to be paid come what may…
Several Centuries ago Drorgan was cursed into stone. Every twenty five years he is given one night and one day to find the woman willing to accept him in both forms.
It's the price to pay for his past behavior.
As a lost, lonely little girl Rhonda Butterbaugh was rescued by the dragon in the stone and she has never forgotten her fierce protector. It sparked her fascination with all things dragon. If only they were real. There are no such things as fairytales, however.
When she is attacked on her way home, and wakes up in a cursed magic castle, complete with a fierce dragon shifting lord, her life takes a turn for the surreal.
Determined to break the curse and rescue Drorgan and his kin, she hasn’t counted on Drorgan’s resistance.
Dragons aren’t supposed to be noble.
Buy it from Evernight Publishing: http://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-dragon-in-the-stone-by-doris-oconnor/
For all other buy links check the
book page: http://www.dorisoconnor.com/the-dragon-in-the-stone.html
Story Excerpt:
“It’s been three days.
Surely she ought to be allowed to wake up now.” Drorgan leaned against the door
frame to his bedchamber, and scowled at the hive of activity in what once had
been his sanctuary.
Servants were
carrying buckets of water up to his antechamber where a hollowed out stone
served as a bathing chamber, and Magda was hovering around the pale woman in
his bed like a mother hen.
“I told you she will,
when she is ready, hence we’re getting a bath ready for her. Stop glaring and
make yourself useful and heat that water. I think she’s coming ‘round.”
Sure enough a
cock-hardening moan came from the woman in his bed, and Drorgan couldn’t tear
his gaze away from the sight of her stretching like a cat. It made the sheet
slip, exposing one creamy shoulder. The thin night rail Magda had procured for
their guest did little to hide her assets from view, and Drorgan swallowed a
groan of his own.
Magda shook
his head at him, and taking the hint, he stalked off to the little chamber now
bathed in sunlight. The servants scuttled away, having deposited the last
bucket of water, and Drorgan stuck his hand into the bath, allowing his
dragon’s fire to transfer to the liquid.
The murmur of
female voices carrying through the heavy stone walls made his shoulder blades
itch. He couldn’t quite hear the woman’s replies as the water bubbled up at the
point of boiling, obscuring his hearing, but he sensed her approach.
Dorgan had
just enough time to pull his hand out of the bathtub before he heard the soft
gasp behind him, and he crunched his jaw in disgust. That’s what he got for
caring. He should have stayed away, far away, but no matter how hard he tried,
his dragon had insisted time and time again to seek out the woman slumbering in
his bed.
The only rest
Drorgan had managed to get had been curled up in the overstuffed chair by the
fire. Close enough to her to keep an eye on her, yet far away enough to not
give into the temptation to touch her pale skin, or to slip in under the covers
with her, when she had thrashed about in her sleep, mumbling unintelligible
sounds. More than once she had murmured his name in that throaty voice of hers.
It had meant sleep had eluded him completely. She must have picked it up from
the servant’s chatter around her sleeping form when they came to tidy the room
during the day, because she couldn’t know who he was.
Drorgan always
made sure he was well away in the morning, though he knew Magda, at least,
would have noticed his presence. No matter how much he ruffled up the bedcovers
in one of the guest rooms, one sniff with Magda’s dragon enhanced senses would
have told her he hadn’t slept in that bed since the night it had been made.
Which no doubt
explained why he felt so out of sorts. Nothing he did soothed the churning in
his gut, nothing bar sitting and watching over the sleeping beauty.
And beautiful
she most certainly was, even with the bruises marring her skin.
“Rhonda, really, you
need to take it easy.” Magda’s voice held a hint of humor as though she found
this whole situation highly amusing, whereas Drorgan doubted his hearing. Had
his old nursemaid just called the woman Rhonda?
The tentative
touch of slender fingertips on his shoulder made him freeze. It couldn’t be.
“It seems Rhonda here
knows you, Drorgan.”
He shook his
head and forced a denial past his lips.
“That’s impossible.”
Another soft
gasp brought with it Rhonda’s scent, and he balled his hands into fists when
she stepped so close that the weight of her breasts rested against his back.
Predictably his cock took that as an invitation and roared to life with a speed
that left him rather lightheaded, as all his blood shot south.
“The water is ready. I
must go.”
Coward.
Magda’s voice
in his head made him spin round. He had every intention of sidestepping the
wide eyed woman now in front of him, but Rhonda swayed as though she was going
to fall, and he grasped her round the waist to steady her. The action meant
that the entire length of her delectable curves molded against his body, and
there was no way on earth she would miss how much he wanted her. Sure enough
her toffee colored eyes widened a fraction, the pupils dilating, and it took
every ounce of willpower Drorgan possessed to not reach out and pull her in
with his magic. To claim the sweet lips, to taste her, to
take what her body offered, and damn the consequences.
However,
that’s how he had ended up in this living nightmare that was his existence in
the first place, and if this woman really was the sweet little Rhonda he’d
spent that memorable night with, then he needed to stay far away from her.
Turning his
head to the left on purpose he exposed his scar to the sunlight streaming into
the room, and Rhonda stiffened.
There, that
should put her off for good. Just like she had done as a child, this woman
surprised him, however. She wriggled to bring her hand up, until her fingertips
traced the scar. The innocent action left his skin on fire, and he shut his
eyes to stop one of his senses at least.
“Thank you for saving
me, Drorgan.” Her whispered words forced his eyes open, and he swallowed hard
when his gaze connected with hers. “I never got a chance to say that as a
child. It bothered me.”
“You said it plenty to
the stone.”
Rhonda smiled
up at him, and, fuck him if her smile didn’t light up the room, and make his
dragon want to curl up at her feet. Why wasn’t she afraid of him, dammit? She
was supposed to be horrified, not look up at him as though the sun rose and set
in his eyes.
“You could hear me?”
she asked.
Drorgan
grunted in answer, earning himself a snide remark in his head from Magda, who
was watching his interaction with Rhonda with a satisfied grin on her face.
“He isn’t normally
this shy in talking, Rhonda.”
Drorgan glared
at Magda over Rhonda’s head, and a giggle escaped the woman in his arms.
Belatedly he realized he was still holding onto her far too tightly, and
stepping away he extricated himself, while holding onto her elbow and steering
her toward he bath tub.
“Like I said I have
somewhere to be. The water should be at the right temperature now.”
With those
words he took off as though the hounds of hell were after him.
****
Author bio
Doris is a writer of
sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines
who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, Time
Travel, Sci-fi, BDSM, F/F, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are
guaranteed.
Happily married for
the last twenty-five years, she lives with her husband and their brood of nine
in a far too small house filled with love, laughter, and chaos.
Stalk her in these places
Thanks again for hosting me :-)
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