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Dragon Got Run Over by a Reindeer
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Dragon Got Run
Over by a Reindeer
Dragon Guard Series #28
by
Julia Mills
There Are No Coincidences.
The Universe Does Not Make Mistakes.
Fate Will Not Be Denied.
Copyright © 2018 Julia Mills
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
NOTICE: This is an adult erotic paranormal romance with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
Cover by Linda Boulanger with Tell Tale Book Covers
Edited by Lisa Miller with Angel Editing Services
Edited and Proofed by Tammy Payne with Book Nook Nuts
Beta Read by Linda Levy
Formatted by Charlene Bauer with Wicked Bold Creations
DEDICATION
Dare to Dream! Find the Strength to Act! Never Look Back!
Thank you, God.
To my girls, Liz and Em, I Love You. Every day, every way, always.
To my mom, Christmas was always your favorite time of the year. You made it so much fun, filled it with so much happiness, and taught us all the true meaning of family. Love you so much. Fly high, Momma. Fly high.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
ABOUT JULIA
ALSO BY JULIA
The Dragon Guard
We soar the skies
Free to a certain extent,
As long as we stay hidden
From prying human eyes.
Our scales differ in color
Our defensive weapons,
Tails, horns, talons and all,
Are never the same.
We are one with nature
We blend in with nature
The wind helps us soar high in the heavens
While the earth grants us healing strength in our hour of need.
We are one with the world
We are the guardians of our kin
When evil conspires to maim and hurt
We are protectors of this human race.
As majestic animals of fairytales
We share our beings with great men
They walk in honor and the grace of Fate,
Fate that we cannot deny.
Copyright © 2016 Melanie Williams
- This Poem is based on the Series, The Dragon Guard by Author Julia Mills.
Index of the Original Language of
the Dragon Kin
Dragon Got Run Over by a Reindeer
Mo réinfhianna álainn……….My lovely reindeer
Oileán Iathghlas na hÉireann……….Emerald Isles
An stór mo chroí……….The treasure of my heart
Nollaig Shona……….Merry Christmas
Tá tú mo ghrá eternal………. You are my eternal love
Ta’ mo chroi istigh ionat………. My Heart is Within You
Mo ghrá……….My love
Mo chroí……….My heart
Chapter One
“How is it?”
“Did you really just ask me that?” Nowell ground out, sure his toes were frozen solid, his fingers were gonna fall off, and his dragon had gone into a long, warm hibernation. “The snow is over my knees and the wind colder than a squirrel’s nuts in January.”
At six-foot-ten, the Guardsman had never experienced anything his long legs couldn’t carry him over. Going through the millions of mounds of snow in what everyone he knew called the Frozen North gave him a whole new appreciation for people shorter than himself while simultaneously pissing him right off. Then there was his brother…
Laughing out loud, Chance, Nowell’s obnoxious twin - older by all of eleven minutes - sputtered, “And not the ones he keeps in his tree, ba-da-chaaa.”
“Ha-ha-ha,” Nowell grumped, wishing he could shut his brother out of his mind once and for all. A hundred and eleven years of togetherness was more than enough. “And thanks for the drum kick at the end there, jerk. It really made the joke…not.”
“Well, I try,” Chance snickered.
“Yeah, well try somewhere else.”
“If you didn’t want to go, then why did you accept the mission?”
Taking a deep breath and trying not to scream at his twin, Nowell scoffed, “Well, let me see…could it have been that I was asked by our Leader, Rian, himself?” He paused, letting his irritation flow freely through the unbreakable bond he shared with his brother. “Or, that the guy I’m looking for is a close personal friend of not only the mad dragon but also the frikkin’ son of a god.”
Nowell sighed, thinking about how very shocked and extremely intimidated he’d been walking into Rian O’Reilly’s office to find one of the oldest of their kind, Maddox MacQueen, aka the mad dragon, and the one and only demi-god of their Clan, Kayne, whose last name was damned near unpronounceable, the son of Lugh, the Celtic God of the Sun. Then there was the fact that all of these men had been friends of the emerald gem dragon’s father and grandfather, daunting didn’t begin to cover it.
Taking a seat when it was offered, Nowell could barely breathe, listening intently as three of the most renowned Guardsmen in history asked him for a favor. The words, “Absolutely, sirs,” was out of his mouth before he could think.
“Seriously, Noe, you really need to get over the hero worship BS. Those guys have to have two wings to fly, just like you and me.” Never one to let anything go, Chance droned on, Look around. You’re at the goddess-forsaken North Pole because you’re a damned pushover and everybody knows it.”
“Not really,” Nowell corrected, grinning beneath his ski mask. “I’m actually on Ellesmere Island, about five hundred miles from the North Pole.”
“Wow, bro, you’re such a nerd…”
“Well-studied.” Nowell amended.
“No wonder they asked you to go on a wild dragon hunt...”
“Trusted me with an important mission.” Nowell corrected.
“Those guys knew you would do anything they asked, even freeze your bits off in the freakin’ frozen North...”
“That I was THE one to handle the job.” Nowell grumbled new and inventive ways of kicking his twin’s ass flashing in his mind as Chance snorted, “Yeah, whatever. How’s the weather on Delusional Island?”
“Better than Asshole Inlet, Jerk,” Nowell snarled, his anger getting the best of him as his dragon growled, smoke rising from his nostrils, both males’ rage growing with every breath. Focusing on his beast, one of the original Dragon Kings, Fionnbharr, the Guardsman assured, “You know better than I that he’ll never shut up.” Then added with a snicker, “Hell, he has your twin’s soul. I give you credit for dealing with all this crap for thousands and thousands of years. You’re a better male than I.”
Smiling as his dragon nodded his huge head, a toothy grin forming across his huge snout, Nowell pushed on, ignoring the achy burn of every single muscle in his legs. Cold, tired and really, really over listening to his twin’s cocky criticism, he continued to follow the trail of fading dragon magic through one blasted snow drift after another
thankful Chance had given up on bitching and was now relaying the details of the England versus Wales rugby game. Zoning out, looking at the snow glittering in the noonday sun while thinking about how much it reminded him of diamonds on a blanket of white velvet, the Guardsmen stopped dead in his tracks, angry shouts echoing just behind him.
Holding his breath, he listened to the furiously raised voices shouting insults at one another.
“Shut it, Hornhead! I know where I’m going!” The male voice shouted.
“Whatever, you pointy-eared, little freak!” A wonderfully feminine voice shrieked as the scent of evergreen and cinnamon filled the air, creating blissful visions of a roaring fire, snuggling in one another’s arms and long, passionate kisses in the Guardsman’s mind. It didn’t matter what she was saying or how loud she was saying it, only that the female continued to speak until Nowell could find her.
Unable to discern their origin, the voices bouncing off the high, rocky cliffs that stretched towards the sky on either side of the roaring waters of the fjord below, Nowell looked right then left then finally over the edge of the outcropping he’d been crossing. Momentarily blinded by the glare of the sun bouncing off the huge sheets of sea ice attached to the rivers banks, the emerald dragon took a hasty step backward…and that’s when all his careful planning went straight to hell in a handbasket.
Just as the thick rubber sole of the insulated boot on his right foot hit a large patch of ice, Nowell tried to stay upright but overcorrected in a most grandiose way. Putting all his weight on his left foot, which unbeknownst to him had become lodged under a fallen log buried deep in the crappy white stuff he was quickly becoming to hate, the dragon tried to go back the other way, essentially zigging when he should have zagged. With the foregone conclusion of a very wet and cold butt looming before him, Nowell went flying, landing ass over tea kettle with a hard thud! Right in the middle of a frozen snow bank.
Blinking back the millions of tiny black dots dancing before his eyes, he did the only thing he could think of, an incredibly awkward and extremely cold imitation of a crab scrambling away from what sounded like a stampede of a thousand cattle barreling towards him. Bumping into a tree trunk, he used the low hanging branch that had left its mark on the back of his head to get to his feet at the precise second the sound of tin bells joined the thundering hooves.
Blinking again, his vision finally clearing, Nowell thrust his hands out in front of him, screaming, “Stop! Halt! Slow the hell down!”
“What’s happening?” Chance yelled directly into his mind. “Nowell, damn you, answer me, NOW!”
Unable to respond to his still screaming brother, Nowell swerved one way and then the other, hurdling backward over the mounds of snow and ice as the reindeer-powered sleigh gained speed, careening straight for him, with no signs of slowing down or changing course.
“Get the hell outta the way!” The reindeer shrieked, her paws doing a weird kind of slipping, sliding tap dance on the frozen terrain.
“Stop, you stupid bag of ass fur!” Screeched the male, who Nowell could now see was an elf, holding tight to the reins of the sleigh while bouncing up and down on the black leather seat like he was a lotto ball on Saturday night. “You’re gonna get us killed!”
“Zip it, Candy-cane breath,” the deer growled through gritted teeth as Nowell slammed into yet another hard-as-nails mummified tree trunk.
With nowhere to go, trapped between a two-hundred-foot drop into icy waters and a huge sleigh bearing down on him with a reindeer and an elf screaming insults at one another, Nowell finally answered his brother. “I’m about to be killed by an insane reindeer and an elf who cusses like a sailor who just happens to be driving Santa’s sleigh. Enjoy your new mate and give my regards to the boys.”
Chapter Two
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Is he dead?... Please tell me he’s not dead... What am I gonna do if he’s dead?... Nick, Jr. will put me out to pasture for sure this time… I’m too young to be put out to pasture… Do you know what happens to reindeers who get put out to pasture?...Oh, my God, Grinch, is he dead?... Why aren’t you telling me anything?... GRINCH!! What the…”
“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” The elf, whose given name was Elroy, but who everyone called Grinch, roared, interrupting her frantic rant as he went on, “He’s not dead, just stunned, because you,” he glared at his partner in crime. “Drive like Mario Andretti after a case and a half of Miller Lites and a wacky weed cigarette.”
“Me?!” Scarlett spat. “I wasn’t driving. You were the one with the reins. I can’t help it if you’re too short to see over the dashboard. I knew I never should’ve let you come with me. You are…”
“I am what, Carrot Fart?” Grinch jumped to his feet, scampering across the snow, poking her in the thigh, because that’s as high as he could reach, as he growled, “You better watch what you say or I’ll…”
“You’ll what?” She interrupted, rolling her eyes and covering her mouth as she feigned a yawn.
“I’ll kick you in the shins, Scarlett Jean.”
Whap!
“OwwwWOWoooOwwwwww!” She shrieked, jumping on one leg as she hopped in circles, holding her left shin, and rubbing the spot Grinch had kicked with his pointy-toed elf shoe.
With the sting lessening, Scarlett fumed, “Do not call me that, Grinch.” She added extra emphasis to her best friend’s nickname, knowing how much he hated it.
Turning to his toes, light enough to walk on the tops of the snow drifts, Elroy sarcastically snorted, “I’m outta here, Scarlett Jean.”
“Good! Just go!” She huffed, not really wanting him to leave, but unwilling to ask him to stay.
She, or Scarlett, who was best known as Lettie, the twenty-seventh alternate out of twenty-seven reindeer in line to help St. Nick drive his sleigh on Christmas Eve, had just happened to be running away from Christmas Village when she just happened to get sidetracked by the scrumptiously refreshing scent of peppermint and pine needles. Not only had she been tingly from head-to-toe, but also unable to stop her reindeer from swerving off course and tracking the alluring aroma.
Still hopping up and down while yelling at Grinch’s back, threatening him with the most inventive forms of revenge she could think of, the heel of Lettie’s boot landed squarely on a thick patch of ice, causing her to squeal, “Son of Krampus’ big toe!”
Tumbling forward, her arms flailing about like a ragdoll thrown from a window, the reindeer quickly landed face first into a pile of hot, hunky man, the hood of her parka falling over her head and her scarf got tangled around her arms. Flipping this way and that, trying to release herself from the grip of her clothing, Lettie planted the palms of her hands on his extremely broad chest and pushed.
Electricity shot through his goose down jacket, into the thick wool of her mittens, tickling the tips of her fingers, and racing through every cell of her body. Warming her from the inside out as she unconsciously leaned forward, Scarlett’s reindeer whinnied as the sensation of the well-muscled planes of his pecs became evident. Looking down, it was as if she was falling into a dream, one she never wanted to wake up from.
No one in Christmas Village, not even Prancer’s grandson, Gage, the most handsome young reindeer of all, compared to the man Lettie had accidentally plowed into. His hair was dark and wavy, and with the rays of the sun hitting it just right, the color reminded her of the shiny black of a toy soldier’s hat. There was no doubt he wasn’t from Ellesmere Island or even the North Pole, as she took in the sun-kissed bronze of his skin that she somehow knew was natural for him, especially when she added in his breathtakingly rugged good looks.
He had the kind of face that Lettie knew made women everywhere stop in their tracks and stare. It was hard to say exactly which feature was his best because they all looked really, really good from where she sat.
Dear Santa, I want one of these in my stocking…
Unable to look away, she continued to peruse the stranger, ignoring Grinch as he stormed
back, fussing and nagging like a fish-wife. Focusing on the strong arch of his brows and his thick, dark lashes any woman would kill for, the deer couldn’t help but sigh. Distinct cheekbones and an angular jaw, fit perfectly with his permanently tanned skin, giving him an almost regal look that made Lettie wonder if he might be a king or at the very least someone very important to his people.
Great! Wonder if they have Christmas cookies in the dungeon…
The strength of his neck was obvious from the corded muscles that she knew also covered his chest but she was fantasizing about other, more personal, parts of his body. Following the line of his slender and rounded nose, her eyes zeroed in on his perfectly-shaped lips. Lettie’s mouth watered as her deer gave a low, approving click of her tongue quickly followed by her, “Ahem!” That to others sounded like the reindeer was clearing her throat but that Lettie knew meant her deer very much approved and was asking, “Can we keep him?”
Leaning forward, all thought of anything but kissing the handsome stranger to see if his lips were as soft as they looked and if he was as magical as he felt, Scarlett, stopped right before her lips touched his and rolled off the man as Elroy shrieked, “Holy crap-flavored sprinkles on a Christmas cookie, he’s a freakin’ dragon.”
Struggling to her feet, careful not to step on the guy she’d not only run over but was most recently fondling, Lettie took four giant steps backward while gasping, “Aww shit and silver bells!”
Looking at Grinch then looking back to the man then back to her friend once more, the reindeer whispered loudly, “You’re right. How did I miss that?” Her head swung towards the man again as she added, “What the hell are we gonna do? I didn’t even know dragons still existed.”