Cover art by Reneé George
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-173-2
Genre(s): Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Dragon's Egg
Length: Collection
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-173-2
Genre(s): Urban Fantasy
Theme(s): Elves, Dragons & Magical Creatures, Gay and Lesbian
Series: Dragon's Egg
Length: Collection
Blurb:
Puff the Magic Dragon lived by the sea…
Ever wondered what happens when Jackie grows up?
Jack Draper’s an orphan, with what he’s always thought of as a very active imagination -- until he discovers the dragon from his childhood memories is real. Worse, he’s the son of the usurper king of Honalee and the Red Sorceress. That means Jack is a wizard himself! Now he has to go to wizard school? Could life get more confusing than being a modern day gay man who suddenly becomes a wizard/dragonrider -- and heir to the throne his father didn't earn?
In a word -- Yes.
Excerpt:
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Jack stood. He wanted Puff as much as the dragon wanted him, insanely enough. He cast about for a way to put Puff at ease. “The tea is undoubtedly ready. Are you warm enough?”
Puff raised a sardonic eyebrow, and his voice was heavy with irony. “Yes, I believe I am, if you refer to my body temperature.” He squared his shoulders. “Yes, tea would be lovely.”
Jack reached for the steaming kettle, but Puff batted his hand away. “You can’t take the heat. Allow me.”
Jack appreciated the double entendres flying back and forth between them. “I can so take the heat, but I’ll allow you the privilege of being in charge, at least this time.”
His drawled words had the desired effect. Puff shot him an unfocused look, and turned back to lift the hot kettle with his bare hands. He poured the tea into the cups with studious care. “So you say.”
Jack picked up his cup and matched the dragon’s ironic smile. “Indeed I do.” He limped with deliberate steps to the dragon’s stone pedestal and sat on the edge. He knew he now sat on Puff’s bed wearing nothing but a pair of pants. He hoped the silent invitation was clear.
Puff gave Jack an opaque look. The only sound was the faint rush of the sea, the tinkle of the waterfall in the basin, and the hum between them that was purely mental. Puff’s eyes narrowed. “Stop teasing, Jackie. It’s not nice.”
Knowing Puff could not possibly see facial expressions over the dimly lit distance between them, Jack snorted. “You seem to think I am. I’m not. Are you going to take me up on the invitation, or will you force me to be crude and blunt?”
One elegant silver and black eyebrow lifted toward Puff’s hairline. “Yes. I want you to be crude and blunt. Tell me what you want, Jackie.”
Jack sighed, making it deliberately loud. “Very well. One, could you manage to call me Jack? I’ve not been called Jackie since I left.”
Puff sipped his tea. “I think I can manage that. Now that you’re a fully grown man, can you manage my real name of Aneurin?”
Jack choked back laughter. “I can indeed, Aneurin. It fits you better, to call you the Welsh name for gold. Your golden eyes haunted my dreams for many a night.”
The dragon put the cup down with deliberate care. “You’ve been dreaming of me?”
Jack took a sip of his tea, slurping deliberately. “Yes. Dreams of you and I making love, right here on this great bloody bed of yours.”
Puff-Aneurin stared at the floor. “And you don’t mind this dream?”
“At first, I minded. Only in that I didn’t think it was right to be making love with a character from a children’s song.”
Puff chuckled. “Should have never gone to the pub and had a few pints. Told some idiot songster while I was in my cups, but retained enough sense to make it a tale.” He shrugged. “Didn’t expect the song to cross the pond.”
“Puff, er, Aneurin… sorry. That song was sung in the 1960’s before I was born.” It had always bugged him that the song was older than he by nearly a decade.
“Oh. That. I went back in time to find some good ale, not that watered down piss they sell these days. I’ve heard in America they sell it cold, much to my horror.” Aneurin grinned at his dig on Jack’s adopted home.
Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was Aneurin in a better mood, he actually looked like health and energy flowed back into him. “Not the same brews, you old-fashioned dragon. It’s made to be served cold. Tastes horrid warm, I assure you.”
“Oh. Well then. That’s different. Are you going to finish telling me what you want? Or have you changed your mind?”
Jack gulped the rest of his tea, stood, and walked over to slap the empty cup beside Aneurin. He leaned forward until he was nose-to-nose with the man who’d haunted his dreams for months. “I want to drag you over to that stone couch, rip your clothes from your body, and start by tasting what lies beneath. What happens after that is by mutual consent, but I’m hoping you and I will both not sit well tomorrow. Is that clear enough?”
Aneurin’s whiskey eyes grew round. He swallowed. “Clear as rain water.”
Jack drew one hand up from Aneurin’s chest, sliding a finger up his neck until he cupped Aneurin’s chin. “I know I’m home, sleeping in my bed. I don’t care if this is a dream. I’m planning on seeing this through until the end.” His lips hovered above Aneurin’s. “Half of me hopes this isn’t a dream, and that you’re healthy enough for a little exercise.”
Aneurin leaned into his lips, making the lightest of contact. “I think we’re both dreaming, but it’s the happiest dream I’ve had since you left. The joy alone gives me the strength to go on.”
Jack closed his eyes to savor the soft brush of their lips. “You talk too much, dragon. Kiss me, and we’ll pretend this isn’t a dream.”
“You’ve gotten pushy since you grew up. I like it.” Aneurin leaned further, deepening the kiss, and pulling Jack down to sit next to him on the hearth.
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