When the Sky Falls

Huzzah! I made it to my twenty-third birthday! Given how much dragon magic I have rolling through me now, doing its best to cook me from the inside out, this feat is no small thing. I’ve earned a hearty celebration and then some. I’m gonna party down at Sharmayne’s and let her ply me with as many of her cocktails as she wants. Her magic touch is exactly what I need after how nutty life in Traitor’s Den has been lately. I deserve every hypnotic, milky, swirling Moon Mixer she sends my way. Hell, I might get fancy and skip right on to a Roll in the Hay, maybe even a Sirens on the Rocks, and if I’m tipsy enough, end the night with a Dragon Slayer like a proper wild child. Who needs to be clear headed anyway? For one night, I can be one clown short of a circus. All the responsibility of being both sheriff and mayor of our fine, one-way town will still be waiting for me tomorrow.

It always is.

A night at Sharmayne’s oughta leave me loose and ready to finally take advantage of all the dragon shifter Rhett and the vampire Zeke keep trying to offer me—every damn day, all day long...and into the night. Their looks are heated enough that if all the power inside me weren’t already threatening to give me a good cookin’, their constant seduction would. Those men could sell heat to a roasting fire.

But trust me, what they’re sellin’, I’m lookin’ to buy. They say I’m their mate? Their queen? Well, bring it on. I’m wearing my favorite dancin’ boots.

Near on every free woman in the Den is looking to move in on them. Good thing they’ve only got eyes for me. And since I’m also the one stuck dealing with all the trouble they cause—and they get into trouble faster than a balloon at an overcrowded porcupine party—I may as well reap the benefits too. It’s past time to examine the goods...

Of course, just when I’m starting to get hot and heavy with my two guys, a knock on the door upends my world—yet again.

Why in tickled tarnation does nothing in our town ever go down the way it’s supposed to? ‘Cause plans are for losers, apparently. Even when they’re no-plan plans, my specialty.

Well, at least, I ain’t complainin’ none. Not one tiny, little bit. Not with who’s on the other side of my door.

Not till the sky starts falling, anyhow...