"Passions kindle in the heat of dragon's breath"
Reviewed by Loa Ledbetter
Posted September 16, 2010
Romance Erotica Sensual | Romance Paranormal
Dylan MacLeod is the ruler of the Dragonstar clan, an
ancient race of dragon shifters. He is ruler by blood, but
not by heart. Until the murder of his brother, Dylan lived
life precariously, not concerned with the weight of ruling
coming to him. He was not first in line, and quite content
with that position. Once that mantle was placed upon him,
he did right by his people ruling justly and protecting them
from both the onslaught of the human world and the competing
dragon shifter clans. But now he feels only desperation and
despair. A disease ravages his people, one that is killing
them in horrific fashion and leaves his healers and
scientist lost for a cure. Dr. Phoebe Quillum is a bio-chemist obsessively searching
for a cure for the disease that took her mother and sister
from her. Hit with the misfortune of losing her
funding, she cannot believe her luck when a brooding Dylan
stomps into her lab and offers her millions if she goes with
him to find a cure for the unknown disease killing his
people. Not only is her scientific curiosity piqued by the
makeup of Dylan's blood, but so is her libido from the
makeup of his enticing physical DNA. Not long after Dylan's
plane takes off for New Mexico with Phoebe on board, the
passion between these two ignites. As Dylan comes to
realize that he will never be able to let Phoebe leave him,
he takes on a new worry... Will she accept him for what he
truly is? But when Phoebe is taken by a warring clan, they
both learn there is more to Phoebe than meets the eye. DARK EMBERS is the first of the new Dragon's Heat series by
Tessa Adams. It is a nice quick read, with plenty of heated
scenes. The story flows well and we get a taste of
other dragons that I am sure will be the focus of future books.
SUMMARY
A new erotic paranormal series, starring dragon
shapeshifters, kicks off with a very sexy debut...
Prince Dylan MacLeod is one of the last pure-blood
dragon shape- shifters-and ruler of a dying race, the
Dragonstar clan. It falls to him to protect his people and
their ancient magic. But he has one important duty: to
provide an heir...
Like all dragons, Dylan, who has
a dark, rampant sexual appetite, can only procreate with his
destined mate-for whom he's searched for the last five
hundred years. But his quest is delayed when a disease
sweeps through the Dragonstars, and Dylan must venture to
the human world to find a cure. He tracks down bio-chemist
Phoebe Quillum, never imagining the beautiful scientist
would be the mate he's been seeking. But even with the fate
of the clan on their shoulders, Phoebe and Dylan are
overcome by their sexual desire.
Their passion
turns to something truer, but when Phoebe is kidnapped by
Dylan's oldest enemy, he must risk everything for his love
and his clan...
ExcerptPrologueDark EmbersHe’d failed. Again. Locked inside his head, tormented by shades of what might
have been, Dylan MacLeod stepped into the night and closed
the heavy, wooden door behind him. He paused for a moment, sucked in a deep breath full of heat
and sand and misery. Told himself it was no big deal. Part
of him even believed it. After four hundred and seventy years, he was damn good at
lying to himself. Shoving away from the small house with the cactus garden and
the stone swimming pool in the front yard, he walked the
deserted street rapidly. It was three a.m., and his only
company was a scorpion or two. The desert was quiet, the
night solemn. And he had failed again. With each step he took, his conscience grew heavier. With each footfall, his heart grew colder, until he was once
again at that place without hope. It was where he usually
existed, where he’d spent the last century, mired in guilt
and rage and a fear he refused to admit. That he was here now was his own fault. It had been stupid,
even for a moment, to truly believe that she might have been
the one. Agitation made him walk faster, until his boots were
pounding the pavement in rhythm with his too-quick pulse.
Self-disgust made him shut down inside, until all he could
think of was the night. The stars. The moon shining brilliantly over the desert. At least until his jeans sagged around his ass. With a muttered curse, Dylan yanked the faded denim back
into place. Slid the button through the tab, jerked up the
zipper. What did it say about him that this latest encounter had
left him so desperate to get away that he hadn’t stayed long
enough even to get his clothes on properly? Worse, he hadn’t
bothered to say good-bye to Eve . . . Eva? Eden? For a brief moment, he struggled to remember her name, what
she looked like. Then let it go, as it mattered less than
nothing. It wasn’t like he’d be seeing her again. Within
moments of slipping inside her, he’d figured out that she
wasn’t the one—none of the signs were there. No instant connection between them, as his clan mates so
often spoke about. No burning as the tattoo around his arm shifted to reflect
the presence of his mate. Dark EmbersNo searing pain as a part of her soul arrowed
into his. Nothing but a mediocre orgasm that had barely given his
powers a pulse. Before she’d rolled off him, he’d been
plotting his escape. And by the time the shower had kicked
on in the bathroom, he’d been halfway to the front door. God, he was a fucked-up bastard. Cold as ice, despite the
fire that raged within him. Hot as flame, despite the
glacier that had taken up residence in his stomach. Was it
any wonder, then, that he couldn’t find her?
He didn’t deserve her. His laugh, when it came, was anything but humorous. That had
to be the understatement of the year. The decade. The new
millennium, and probably the old one, as well. Why else
would it have taken him this long to do what everyone else
managed in the first two centuries of their existence? Why
else would he be doomed to failure night after night,
encounter after encounter? He had screwed up generations
ago, and now he and his clan were paying the cosmic price.
Big time. His boots ate up the streets in the sleepy little town, as
he struggled to put distance between himself and his latest
sexual escapade. Wind whipped around him, played with the
tails of his shirt, caressed his bare chest. But Dylan
didn’t bother buttoning up. What was the point, when he was
headed right back to the bar to find yet another female
shifter interested in taking it off? Hope sprang eternal. As he walked, he scanned the desert around him. Checked out
every brush of the wind against cactus; narrowed his eyes at
the rustle behind a random pile of heavy rocks. Then shook
his head as a low, deep howl split the air next to him. A
lonely coyote was the least of his problems. If someone had told him four hundred years ago that he would
be here, in this place, he would have laughed at them. If
they’d told him he would grow tired of night after night of
hot, anonymous sex, he would have told them they were
insane. But youth was like that—arrogant, seemingly
invincible, convinced the world was for the taking. Or at
least that’s how his youth had been. He’d spent centuries gorging on women, taking them each and
every way he could. Glutting himself on their scent and
taste and feel, until his powers reached staggering heights.
Devouring whatever they gave him with a grin and a wink and
a softly whispered “Thank you.” He had plenty of time, he’d told his father when the man had
advised him to settle down. He was trying to find the right
woman, he’d promised his mother when she’d fretted about the
future. And then, from one heartbeat to the next, everything
had changed. His brother had been murdered. His parents had died soon
after. He’d been crowned king. And just that suddenly, his
people, his legacy, were without an heir. Bad enough that
the second son was now the king. That he couldn’t find a
mate, couldn’t deliver on his family’s legacy, was a nightmare. There were others—his sister, his niece—who could take his
place if he fell. But it wouldn’t be the same. The line of
succession, which had remained in his family for more than
three thousand years, would fall with him. One more fuckup from a man who had never wanted to be king
in the first place. Dark EmbersDylan shoved the thought away—what he wanted
didn’t play into things anymore. What was best for his
people did. And what was best for them now was that he
provide them an heir. He should already have done so, should already have
guaranteed his people’s survival through this millennia and
into the next. God knew he had tried—for nearly four hundred
years, he had tried. And he had failed. No mate meant no heir. No mate meant night after night of anonymous sex as he
searched for her. No mate meant a dwindling in his powers that was not just
devastating, but downright dangerous—for himself and his people. His was a precarious state of events for any centuries-old
dragon, but for him it was an out-and-out
disaster—particularly considering the state his clan was in. Not that an heir would solve all the problems, but it would
solve the most pressing—including the fact that it had been
far too many years since a young dragon had been born to
Dragonstar. Far too long since they’d had something to celebrate. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and for one brief
second Dylan considered ignoring it. The day had been dismal
enough—any more bad news and he might just take flight and
never return. The idea was far more inviting than it should
have been, far more compelling than it had ever been before. In the end, he grabbed his phone and flipped it open. Barked
“Hello” in a voice he knew was far from welcoming. He was
king of the Dragonstar clan, and as such could never be
unavailable to his people. That didn’t mean he had to like
it—especially tonight. “Dylan, come quick.” A shot of uneasiness worked its way down his spine at the
panic in his best friend’s—and second- in-command’s—voice.
As a rule, nothing fazed Gabe. “What’s wrong?” “It’s Marta. She’s—” Gabe’s voice broke. “She’s sick.” His stomach plummeted to his boots. “Are you sure?” His brother-in-law’s voice was hoarse. “I’m sure. I tried to
deny the symptoms, to ignore them, but that’s not possible
anymore. I don’t think—” His voice broke again. “I don’t
think she’s going to make it through this.” “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Dylan was already running,
his boots echoing in the deserted street as he stripped his
shirt from his body. He didn’t bother with the pants or
boots; they would take too long. Just blurred his image as
he started to shift. Pain—red-hot and intense—as bones broke, reshaped, grew longer. Pleasure—acute and all-consuming—as he became what he was
meant to be. He ignored both sensations; concentrated instead on making
it through the change. One more second. Two. And then he was
in the air, his wings spread wide as he soared through the
star-bright sky. Not Marta, not Marta, not Marta. The simple phrase was a
mantra in his head as he sped toward his lieutenant’s house,
making sure to stay invisible, despite the panic racing
through him. So many of his friends, so many of his clan,
had been taken from him in the last years. He couldn’t stand
to lose his sister—Gabe’s wife—too. Please, God, not his baby sister, too. Dark EmbersBut when he landed in Gabe’s yard, he knew his
prayers had, once again, gone unanswered. He could smell the
blood from outside the house, could hear his sister’s
nonsensical mutterings through the walls of dense stone. Marta was bleeding out. Delirious. Probably already paralyzed. If her illness followed the same pattern all the others had,
she would be dead before the next moonrise. And there was
nothing he could do about it. Inside him, the power sputtered to life, surged through him.
The need to heal, to fix, to do what he was destined to do.
But he’d tried it so many times before on so many of his
clan members, and each time, he had failed. This disease was
an enemy he didn’t know how to fight. Rage and anguish welled within him, crushing his lungs and
twisting his spine into hard knots. Throwing back his head,
Dylan roared with all his pent-up fury—then went inside to
watch his baby sister die.
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