Interaction with a Dragon (eBook) - Human Interaction Series #4

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374 pages | eBook | 6x9"
Date of publication: 05/20/2016
  • ISBN: 978-1-943528-63-9
  • Model: 72260 words

Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Heat Rating: 2 Flames

 

He's an alpha dragon with an attitude. She's the woman determined to tame him.

Alex is desperate. Her cupboards are bare, her bank account empty, and she's days away from homelessness. Then, her luck changes in the form of a position as a personal assistant to the baddest, scariest Enforcer around--Cannibal. The man cloaked in mystery, who carries a huge sword, and has scowling down to an art.

Not ready to give up her first job opportunity in months, Alex sucks it up, determined to earn Cannibal's respect in the process. Hard to do when he threatens to cut off her toes for a snack and she breaks one of his cardinal rules her first day. Yet, she senses something special in Cannibal.

She can't ignore the powerful attraction as she finds herself playing the part of his girlfriend for his dragon brethren. Nor when she stands with him as the only ones capable of destroying an evil wizard determined to end the world.

Deep feelings forged in crisis tend to be fleeting. Alex understands the odds, but knows one thing--Cannibal and her heart are both worth fighting for.

CONTENT ADVISORY: This is a re-release title.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Here goes nothing.

I grabbed my purse, stepped out of the car, and quickly wrapped my old, threadbare coat around me. This morning's frigid temps and blustery wind cut right through my clothes, turning me into a walking Popsicle. After slamming the door on my car shut, I trotted up to the front door and slipped inside, immediately grateful for the warmth.

An older lady with purple hair and rhinestone glasses glanced up from her computer. "May I help you?"

I smiled at her. "I'm here for my interview."

"Name?"

"Alex Monroe."

The woman ran her finger down a list before nodding. "Yes, I have you down. If you'll just--"

A side door opened with a loud click. A rat-a-tat-tat of heels briefly announced the approach before a blur of light colored hair, an expression of horror, and an ocean of tears nearly ran me over as the young lady made a beeline for the nearest exit. I watched her go with my mouth gaping open.

"Guess that one didn't work, either," the receptionist uttered with a wan smile.

"Either?"

The woman shrugged. "It's a tough interview."

"Uh-huh." Dread landed heavily on my shoulders. My nerves crackled as I tried to take in the latest monkey wrench in my previously well planned out life.

Nine months ago, I graduated from college with honors, happily displaying my degree in computer science. The idea was to get a great job, full of wonderful benefits, and transition from a life as a hard-working student to a full-time employee. That so didn't happen.

Instead, I found myself, along with many others, thrown into the emotionally draining task of endless applications and countless interviews. As hard as I tried, nothing clicked. No offers were forthcoming. I worked as a waitress to try to keep the money flowing and went through the last of my school loans quickly despite my Spartan lifestyle and ramen noodle diet. Now, at my wit's end, I stood in the lobby of the Peace Protection Division, praying this one worked out.

With nothing else to do, I plopped down in the empty seat next to the door the last candidate had flown through and pressed on a stubborn wrinkle in my slacks. I couldn't help but fidget, pushing my hair behind my ear in order to bend over and stare at my worn shoes. Scuffed and dull, they were at least comfortable, if not flattering.

"No way in hell. Not if she was the last gopher left on earth. Total lackwit."

The booming, furious voice made me sit up straighter in my chair. I looked over at the receptionist who simply typed non-stop, blatantly ignoring the yelling taking place a few feet away. She'd probably heard the same argument all morning long and had learned to tune it out. Lucky her.

Unwillingly, I listened in. Hard not to when the man hollered loud enough to wake the dead.

Nervous anticipation quickly turned to dread as I realized I'd be facing the same condemnation next. My hopes of financial stability sank like a heavy stone in water.

The unmistakable sound of crying followed.

Curious now, I leaned to the side, hoping to catch what happened next.

"I'm fat, bloated, have to pee every ten minutes. I can hardly breathe and haven't seen my feet for a week. Now you've dismissed every candidate on the list. Five in the last hour alone. I can't find another replacement and I was due to deliver three days ago."

Obviously a woman in distress who was being torn a new one by a demanding grouchy ass.

"Shhh. You're pregnant, not fat."

"I'm puffy." She hiccupped. "And you don't have a new gopher."

"The next one that walks through the door, I'll take her. Just stop crying."

"But…what if you don't like her?"

"It'll be fine. Besides, it's only for a few weeks, until you return from maternity leave." A pause followed. "Bring the girl in. Teach her the important stuff. Just don't cry anymore."

I blinked at the latest development in the impromptu soap opera happening in the other room. Fate had smiled down upon me being the next in line for an interview. According to the man's words, I'd be a shoo-in.

For a job working with a surly, hot-headed creep.

Yippee for me.

Beggars can't be choosers. Besides, anything was better than what I had now, one month from losing the roof over my head and being forced out on the street. I might not care for the man's attitude, but it's not like I had the luxury of walking out. No. This is my last chance to get my foot in the door with a reputable company and have a remote chance at financial stability. For that, I'd gladly take on one pissed off ogre.

Resigned and determined, I stood and started in the door, only to stop when a new voice spoke.

"What did you do this time to upset my mate?" So filled with challenge, this man's tone definitely deterred anyone from arguing.

"Nothing." The ogre didn't back down an inch. His firm answer easily drew a line in the sand.

"Then why is she crying?"

"She's got to pee and can't find her feet." The reply sound a bit droller and less furious.

No time like the present. I drew in a reassuring breath, straightened my spine, and shoved the door open before striding in.

Three people stood near the center of the small conference room. In unison, their attention turned to me. I latched onto my courage and continued toward them.

The woman sported a basketball stomach, obviously heavily pregnant. Her cheeks glistened from a couple of tears, which trailed down her rounded face. A tall, dark, and handsome man stood next to her with one arm wrapped possessively around her extended waist. The way he glanced down at her told the story. She was his and heaven help anyone who decided to try to snatch her from him.

I turned my focus to the second man in the room. A bit taller than the other man, this guy towered over the woman easily by a good foot or more. An abundance of muscles filled out black leather pants and a snug T-shirt. Not huge like some bodybuilders, but more like strength from hard manual labor. He reminded me of a football player. Maybe a tight end. Built and in his prime, the man could turn heads by just ambling down the street. Sharp brown eyes spit flames while he exuded an air of supreme self-confidence.

Big and sexy in a bad boy kind of way. Yummy and definitely lickable, except for one thing--the expression on his face.

The scowl carved on his chiseled face warned of a permanent state of surliness while his fisted hands told of barely leashed anger. He exuded a plethora of negative vibes that even the most lacking in body-language interpretation skills would notice.

No one in their right mind would mess with the brute. Unfortunately, desperate and down to my last few dollars, I had no choice but to give him my best shot.

"Is this where interviews are being held for an Enforcer private assistant position?"

The woman wiped at her face with her sleeve, then smiled at me. "Yes. Yes, it is." She stepped forward. "What's your name?"

"Alex."

"Hello, Alex. I'm Shy. This is Meat. And Cannibal." She gestured to each in turn.

Meat? Cannibal?

I had a sinking feeling the taciturn ogre known as Cannibal was the one who needed an assistant. Go figure.

Authors:

For more information, please visit the author's webpage.
About Cheyenne Meadows:
Fireborn Publishing Main Page

Growing up in the Midwest, I began reading romance novels in high school, immediately falling in love with the genre, to the point where I decided to write professionally for a career. However, that dream splattered against a brick wall, resulting in a quick death in my first writing class in college when my professor told me bluntly that I wasn't any good at it. I shifted gears quickly, and left my writing dreams behind, eventually settling on becoming a nurse.

A few years back, I stumbled across a fan-fiction writing site on a favorite author's webpage. I began to read stories others wrote, not only making some wonderful close friends from the experience, but also, really learning to write for the very first time. Here I was able to share short stories, practice my writing skills, and truly develop into a writer. More than that, the experience allowed me to revitalize my dream, as I rediscovered joy in writing. Now, I spend my days off with my alpha male characters, quick witted heroines, and see how much trouble everyone can get into.

When I'm not working or writing, I enjoy working in the garden, canning, and seeing my backyard as a living canvas for my whimsical landscaping, and, of course, reading romance novels.

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/cheyenne.meadows.10

Email Cheyenne1.meadows@yahoo.com

For more information, please visit the author's webpage.
For more information, please visit the author's webpage.

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This book was added to our catalog on Thursday 03 December, 2015.

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