
Finding a good co-writer who gets you, gets your style and understands the way you work is a tough thing. It's sort of like dating in a way. Sometimes you come across people who you should jive with, but then it turns out that things don't work out because you don't have chemistry.
Cassie Alexander and I have known each other for awhile, and so we didn't want to screw up a friendship. So before we decided to make this a series, Cassie and I originally decided to test the waters of co-writing by writing a short story together, that eventually became DRAGON CALLED.
We had so much fun writing it together that we decided to write an entire series and release them quickly together (because yes, the endings are cliffhangery, and personally, I hate waiting a long time for the next book). And so yes, in addition to DRAGON CALLED being released in May, we will also have DRAGON DESTINED and DRAGON FATED also released in May!
If you're interested in reading the short story that inspired the novel, I'm going to be serializing it here on the blog. The beginning is mostly the same as a novel, but at some point it detours into something a little different with a Happy-For-Now ending.
If you like it, I HIGHLY recommend checking out DRAGON CALLED đ

Chapter One
While waiting for the bus, Andrea NgoâAndiâhad plenty of time to consider that answering an Overnight Help Wanted ad online may not have been the worldâs best idea. But it wasnât like her student loans were going to pay themselves; she was already working nights at the county hospitalâand then there was the whole thing with her idiot brotherâs bail. Danny had gotten into stupid situations before, but she never thought heâd run out on her, miss his court date, and leave her stuck with a ten-thousand-dollar bail bond.
So, what was another shift or two? Who needed sleep anyhow? Sleep was definitely overrated. She took a pair of thick black plastic framed glasses out of her coat pocket and put them on. She had perfect vision, but she knew from experience glasses on Asian girls made people think she was either super smart or super shelteredâboth of which had worked in her favor before.
The bus came, picked her up, and deposited her as far as it would go across town, at the bus stop outside the Briars Country Club. Its ominously-thorned, wrought iron gate made her glad she knew when her last tetanus shot was. She pulled out her phone to text the mysterious number that said sheâd gotten the job in the first place.
Iâm here, she texted. Five minutes early, no less. She took off her glasses, which turned out to be quite dirty from underuse and fogged them with her breath to wipe them down. Sheâd never been this close to the BCC beforeâthere was never any point when she was most definitely not, nor would ever be, a member.
But working at her glasses stopped her from staring at her phone. The person whoâd given her the number when sheâd gotten the job had claimed to be Damian Blackwoodâs secretary. Andi found that hard to believe. What on earth would Damian Blackwood need a private nurse for one night for? Orâperhaps the better questionsâfor whom?
Sheâd talked to an ambulance transport nurse once whoâd gotten paid for an entire day to follow around a Saudi prince in his rig. So she might be getting paid just to watch someone breathe, barring an assassination attempt, which sounded lucrative and exciting.
But sheâd never get to tell anyone about itânot even her roommate Sammyâbecause theyâd made her sign a nondisclosure agreement. And then the text that had told her when to be here had made it clear that this assignment was âno questions asked.â
Which would be hard because questions were like, her thing. Had to be. Because secrets could kill youâasking questions saved lives.
Andi ran an aggressive thumbnail over the left glasses lens, trying to scrape off a streak, and found a scratch too deep to ignore. She shouldâve tried these on at home and brought one of her other half-dozen pairs. She sighed and pocketed them, returning to her phone to check the time.
And now theyâwhoever they wereâwere late.
Maybe this was all just an elaborate hoax. She crossed her arms in the dark, turning her back on the gates and the mansions behind them. She hated thinking like that because she knew the slightly paranoid anxiety that made her an excellent nurse was a double-edged sword when it came to life-coping skills.
But itâd stopped her from getting into the Subaru STI that Dannyâd âborrowedâ from a friend the last time sheâd seen himâwhich stopped her from getting her prints in his freshly stolen car.
Andi checked the time again then jumped as the heavy gates behind her began to fold in on themselves, thorns disappearing like at the end of Sleeping Beauty. An all-black carâin a make she didnât recognizeâpulled up. But she realized it was for her as it parked and a driver in a suit emerged.
He wasâŚbreathtaking. A Caucasian man with black hair, strong nose and chin, full lips, and piercing light brown eyes that appeared almost golden. The crisp black suit made him look sharp, but he didnât need itâwhich led to thinking about what he might look like without it, which was not appropriate right now, but Andi couldnât help herself. He was injuriously handsomeâthe kind of hot youâd do a double take for and wind up getting hit by an oncoming bus you hadnât noticedâand hot enough that there was no way he didnât know it. She more than knew his type, and she steeled herself to give him no response.
âMiss Ngo?â he asked as he opened the passenger door for her.
âJust Andi,â she corrected him, getting into the back seat and scooting over. He took a moment to stare at her, and she felt a low-hipped thump of desire, which she concealed with a tight smile.
âOf course,â he agreed, giving her a slight nod and a much warmer smile as he closed her door. He took the driverâs seat again and looped the black car around to pull back behind the gates of the Briars like a tide.
She had no idea what kind of car she was in, but she had a feeling that Danny would lust for it. The interior leather felt buttery, and the drive was certainly a lot smoother than the city bus.
Too bad the whole âhaving a driverâ thing made her uncomfortable. Admittedly, she couldnât drive, so she really did need one, but her last boyfriend hadnât even opened her door for her on their first date. And Josh had definitely not looked like that.
Andi-girl, you need to have fun and get out more. She could hear Eumie gently chastising her in her head, and right after that, her roommate Sammy, adding, And you need to get laid.
She was willing to admit that both those things might be trueâbut nothing like that would happen tonight.
âSo, weâre going to Blackwoodâs estate?â she asked the driver, trying to make innocent conversation as the car rose in the hills. She glanced up at the rearviewâwaiting for him to respondâand realized the defiant blue streak in her black hair was showing. Shit, shit, shit â she hadnât gotten into nurse mode yet, but it was time. Her hands reached up and wound her hair into a practiced bun that hid the color.
âWe are indeed,â said the driver, not taking his eyes off the road.
âDo you know who Iâll be taking care of?â
This made him look back at her in the rear view, brow lifted in bemusement. âSomeone who needs your helpâclearly.â
Andi groaned on the inside. âThatâs a little vague.â
âWould you prefer to hear that Iâm not at liberty to say?â His tone was clearly teasing.
âNo, not really.â Andi rolled her eyes. Once again, hot did not equal charming. âSo, whatâs he like?â
âWho?â the driver asked, overly oblivious.
âYou know who; come on,â she said, leaning forward in the car to talk to him between the front seats. âDamian.â
Sheâd googled him, obviously, but that hadnât told her much. The Blackwoods were old money, rode over on the Mayflower-style: stocks, yachts, islands. But it seemed like no one had taken a picture of the man since he turned thirtyâtwenty years ago.
âAnd what makes you think heâd be involved with the hiring of temporary staff?â the driver asked, twisting to smirk back at her.
So much for blue-collar solidarity. Andi sank back into her seat and loosened her scarf. âRight. So, is there anything you can tell me about this gig? Or do you just do as he says, âno questions askedâ?â she said in a tone of voice that mocked the text sheâd gotten.
âHmmmm. Asking too many questions of the Blackwoods is generally a bad policy,â he said in a cautionary tone. âOr of anyone, really.â
âToo bad thatâs like half my job,â Andi muttered beneath her breath, then more loudly said, âNo questions, huh? Sounds like a great person to work for.â
The car took a swooping right turn. âJust do what youâre told, and youâll be fine.â
âYes, of course,â she clipped. Good help didnât gossipâand that was all sheâd be. She wasnât getting paid to be curious. The driver swung left without turning on his turn signal, and she swayed with the car.
The road rose as it curved, zigging and zagging up the side of a hill. She twisted to look behind her and caught a view of the city below, all lit up like a rippled sheet of gold. It was so unexpectedly beautiful she gaspedâand then it felt like sheâd been stabbed. In her chest. Right below her heart. She pressed a hand beneath her breast, trying to figure out what was wrong with her and if she should confide it to this strange man, but then the pain was combined with the strange impression that she should run back down to the city lights below where she knew that sheâd be safeâfrom what, though?âas prickling terror rushed over her entire body like ice cold water.
âAre you all right?â the driver asked, glancing back at her in the rearview, his voice serious for the first time since sheâd met him.
âYes,â she said defiantly, even though she still felt like she was being stabbedâby fear itself. Her heart was hammering so fast, like the time sheâd been chased by the cops because of her dumb brother or the time sheâd been muggedâbut sheâd never felt such an intense urge to run-run-run.
Why?
She double-blinked and forced herself to breathe, looking out the window at the cityâs golden streetlight tapestry. It swept out like wings to encompass the hills on both sides, and from somewhere in the depths of her childhood memories, her Auntie Kimâs voice burbled up: There are dragons in this world.
âMiss Ngo?â There was a note of concern in the driverâs voice that hadnât been there earlier.
Why on earth did she think about Grand Auntie Kim? It had been years since sheâd seen the old woman who had taken care of her as a child during the summer, whoâd told her and Danny stories of dragons after their dad had walked out on them and their mother had had to work. Andi inhaled deeply and shook her head. Whatever this is, you are bigger than it. You have handled worse. Youâre going to be fine.
Or, said a darker part of her mind, youâre having a heart attack at a freakishly young age, and in about three seconds, you should ask Mr. Handsome here to call 911.
âAndi?â the driver pressed.
âDo you know CPR?â Andi asked, half-joking, half-notâthen the sense of terror lifted just as fast as itâd come on. âOh my God,â she whispered to herself, sinking back into the carâs luxury leather interior. âOkay. Never mind. Iâm fine. Honest.â
His eyes narrowed at her in the rearview. A flash of anger? That was on him, not her.
âDonât worry,â he growled, suddenly a much darker man. âYouâre allowed to be here.â
What an odd turn of phrase.
She wouldâve asked him why heâd said it quite like that, but she was too happy to not feel like she was dying anymore. The car swung around again, and the pavement turned to cobblestones as they pulled through a final gate.
The driver slowed and parked in the roundabout, right in front of the mansionâs huge church-like doors, and she quickly got out to breathe fresh air before he could come around and release her. She leaned against the car and looked up.
Compared to any place Andiâd ever livedâor ever seenâthe house was utterly ridiculous. It wasnât a house so much as a castle, and it had the kind of turrets that you expected to see archers peeking out fromâalthough, in this day and age, and with Blackwood-level money, machine guns seemed more apt. Stained glass windows dotted the upper floors, some glowing with light, while ivy grew aggressively up the lower ones, crawling out of a garden that could best be described as feral. A huge circular fountain behind her had a dragon head on top of it shooting out water instead of smoke.
The driver walked around her and opened up the front door, and light beamed from somewhere inside as he gestured for her. âReady?â
Andi forced a lightness she didnât feel into her voice and expression, plastering on a smile so sweet it was giving her cavities. âAs Iâll ever be!â
Swallowing for strength, she walked behind him indoors. They were together in a vast entryway that had three sets of stairs, wide ones arching toward the right and left wings of the house, and an odd spiral staircase that shot straight up. Her eyes followed it to a circular door in the ceiling, two floors up. A belfry? Some kind of service hatch? Her guesses were interrupted by the driver reaching for her, and she stepped back quickly without thinking. âI-I didnât catch your name?â
âIt doesnât matter,â he said.
She stared at his open hand and then looked to him. The corners of his lips were turned upward, teasing her, and it felt like her heart stopped beating for a moment. Dammit. Was he taunting or flirting with her? Was he so hot he just assumed heâd get his way? Or was he so used to hanging out with rich people he thought he was one, just like when clerks were rude to you for no reason in fancy stores?
He cleared his throat and lifted his hand slightly. âWould you like me to take your coat, or do you prefer to wear it while nursing?â
She had a sudden urge to meet him late at night in a pool hall and see how much she could take him for, but she took off her coat and handed it over. âYouâre assuming Iâll get the job.â
He shrugged. âIâm assuming youâre competent. But Iâve been wrong before.â
âThanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. It-Doesnât-Matter,â she said. Why wouldnât he give her his name? Her roommate Sammy was convinced that answering an âOvernight Help Wantedâ ad online was Andiâs beginning of a true-life crime show on Investigation Discoveryâand maybe she was right. Maybe Mr. No-Name was a felon or something? Something heâd have in common with Danny if she couldnât talk her Uncle Lee into getting her brother an expensive lawyer. She squinted at the driver. His reluctance to tell her his name only made her want to know more.
He resisted her dig. âAnd your phone?â he asked. She handed it over, much more reluctantly. âYou did sign an NDA,â he reminded her, as he put it in his pocket.
âBut what if thereâs an emergency?â
âWeâll give you a spare.â
A spare phone wasnât the same thing as her phone, but she tried to shake it off.
He glanced at his watch, and his expression became serious. âIf youâll follow me,â he said, and then started walking without looking back to make sure she did so. She almost had to trot after him. He was so much taller than she wasâat least six-three to her five-nothingâand he was apparently in a hurry. Then again, maybe she was relieving someone elseâanother hired handâwho needed to leave quickly.
At least chasing after him let her see his ass. His suit was particularly well cut around him, not leaving much to the imaginationânot when your imagination was as good as hers. He surprised her by stopping and turning back around, as though heâd known she was looking. She stopped, too, like they were playing a game of red-light green-light.
âComing?â he asked, waving her up.
âIâm trying to, sheesh,â she said, striding forward, almost out of breath.
âCome a little faster, then,â he encouraged her. His eyes narrowed briefly, and she knew he knew exactly what heâd said to her as he turned back around. She wasnât sure if she should be irritated or ever-so-slightly pleasedâher brain said the first, while her body said the latter.
Shut up, body. Andi always ended up falling for the broken, temperamental types. There was something alluring about trying to fix thingsâand people. But she knew better now, after several exes, and tried to get all of that out at work, where people actually did need fixing.
They practically raced through a living room, appointed with a mix of plush couches in old and modern styles, statuary of all kinds, two fireplaces on either end big enough to roast a bear in, and vases filled with flowers almost halfway to the cavernous ceiling. Past that was a dining room with a table elaborately set, too many chandeliers to count, and a long hall with many locked doors. She could tell they were locked because they were bolted from the outsideâsome with more than one bolt and the locks were exaggerated, even comicalâlike they were meant for the outside of pirate chests. She couldnât help herself; she stopped in front of the last locked door and inhaled, a question on her lips.
âMmm, mmm,â he said with a closed mouth, mockingly as if she were a naughty child, then he had the nerve to turn and wink at her. âNo questions, remember?â
Andiâs jaw clenched. She was so going to find out his name. But he started walking again without waiting for herâuntil they reached a final door.
âYouâre late,â said a voice from inside the room. Damian himself? She straightened her shoulders and walked in.
No. The man whoâd spoken was far too young to be Damian. While Mr. No-Name was so attractive as to almost be otherworldly, this new man was the pride of the Midwest, a golden boy through and through. Hair the color of rust, lightly tanned skin, and a build that said he could pick a girlâor severalâup.
âSorry. Someone didnât open the gates.â Mr. No-Nameâs voice was almost acidic, and Andi realized that this is who heâd been mad at in the car, not her. But why? All the gates sheâd seen had opened.
It didnât really matter though, because just past the homecoming king, Andi could finally see why sheâd been brought here.
She could tell the room had once been a library, even though the shelves were mostly clear, and the only thing remaining to hint at its prior function were leather couches pushed to the side and the scent of old books. Now though, the place where the couches had surely been was occupied by a man in a hospital bed, surrounded by the accoutrements of the sick and infirmâoxygen tanks, monitors, IV pumps on IV poles, a chest tube, a feeding pump spinning like a spindle, and, impossibly out of place for her nursing experience thus far, a small Siamese cat lay curled at the end of the bed.
âI was a little busy,â the other man defended himself, gesturing at the bedridden man. Apparently, no one was concerned about the cat.
Mr. No-Name opened his mouth to say something, and Andi cut him off. âWell, Iâm here now.â She walked up to the bed, blinking in the dim light. She thought she recognized him, from grainy newspaper photos. âIs thisâŚMr. Blackwood?â It looked like him. A little.
Mr. No-Name came to stand beside her. âIt doesnât matter who he is. Can you keep him alive for eight hours?â
She tilted her head to look up at him. âMaybeâif you tell me whatâs wrong with him, first.â What she could see of him was covered in splotchy bruises. There was an oxygen mask on his face, and Andi belatedly realized his tightly-restrained arms were both insanely muscled and covered in tattoos.
Definitely not Mr. Blackwood thenâunless Mr. Blackwood was even more interesting than sheâd assumed.
âHe fell down the stairs,â said Mr. Midwest entirely unconvincingly. Andi looked over at him to ask for more information and caught him looking over her at Mr. No-Name, his face full of concern. âHeâs starting to wake up. I donât want the first face he sees to be a stranger.â
âGrimalkinâs here,â Mr. No-Name said, with a pointed look at the cat, and then he jerked his head toward the door. âI need you out with me tonight. You know why.â He held up a wrist and tapped on a watch that probably cost as much as the car heâd driven her in.
Drivers definitely didnât make that kind of money.
Mr. No-Name-Driver-With-a-Fancy-Watch.
Andi stopped herself from making a discomforted sound. She already knew from painful personal experience that rich people played weird games, and if it was more likely sheâd get this job by pretending to be dumb, fine. It was only for one night, after all. The sooner she started working, the sooner she could make Dannyâs bail, and then maybe all this would make senseâan emphasis on the maybe. âLookâcan somebody here just give me a report?â
The man she was replacing dragged his gaze away from Mr. No-Name and started talking to her. At her, really.
She pulled out a pen and paper and wrote everything down, asking appropriate questions at appropriate times, but she couldnât shake the feeling that she was being partially shouted at and definitely judged. When he was through, she held up a hand. âThree things.â
âGo,â he allowed her.
âThe cat?â She couldnât help but ask.
The driver answered her. âHeâs practically a family member. Presence nonnegotiable. Next?â
âOkay, then.â Weird-ass rich people. Andi shrugged and looked back at the patient. âSo, why is he here? Why not a hospital?â
âIn the city?â Mr. Midwest was incredulous.
âYeah. Why not? Thereâre good hospitals there.â
âHospitals arenât safe,â Mr. Midwest statedâlike that was a known fact.
Andi bit her lips, hard, to not say anything about his bizarre opinions. âAll right, then,â she went on. âThird is, who are you? Medically, I mean.â
âHis nameâs Austin; he used to be a paramedic,â Mr. No-Name said for the man.
âAnd in the Marines,â Austin added.
She stuck her hand out, so Austin would have to shake it. âIâm Andi.â
âAh. An Andi, not Andy,â Austin said, with slightly different emphasis, giving Mr. No-Name a glare.
âItâs not my fault your assumptions were sexist,â Mr. No-Name said, a slight grin flickering at the corner of his mouth. He looked meaningfully at his watch again, and Austin disappeared down a hall. âSo. Eight hours?â Mr. No-Name asked her.
From Austinâs report, this patient mostly sounded like a wait-and-see. He was injured and unconscious, but there was no real reason he hadnât woken up yetâother than possible brain damage. Which, yeah, made this whole level of secrecy, perhaps understandable? If you were the head of a household worth a fortune and someone got injured on your watch, you might need to keep their issues under wraps. She glanced at the patientâs vitals on the monitor, the level of urine in the foley, and the slowly draining chest tube. She could keep almost anyone alive for eight hoursâat the hospital. But what would happen here if things went poorly? This situation was bizarre, and even though they were paying her a ton, she still had her license to think of. She glanced up and found Mr. No-Name watching her shamelesslyâso shamelessly, she flushed.
Austin reappeared, pushing a crash cart before she could stutter out any words. âYou know what to do with this?â
âOf course.â The presence of a crash cart allayed only some of her fears. âButâŚIâm not a doctor.â
âIf he needs a doctor, just call me, and Iâll get one. My numberâs preprogrammed.â Mr. No-Name handed her a phone as Austin went on.
âAnd who should I ask for?â she asked, trying not to sound curious in the least.
Mr. No-Name let out a snort as if to say, nice try. âIâll know itâs you.â
Austin interrupted. âThereâs more oxygen tanks against the wall. Just keep him comfortable until we get back.â
Andi looked between them. None of this made senseânot the cat, not this job, not this house, and definitely not these two extremely handsome, yet extremely odd men. âWhere are you going anyhow?â
Mr. No-Name shook his head at her question. âOut. But weâll return by dawn, and I promise youâll be on the first bus back to the city. Okay?â
Mr. No-Nameâs gaze pressed her, as Austin loomed.
She inhaledâto tell them how insane all this was and back outâbut then she reminded herself that the only thing that needed to make sense was the fact that one night here would equal a month of her normal paycheck. She glanced at the patient and did her best to ping out with her inherent nurse-radar, honed by months of taking too many shifts, taking in his color, and the numbers on the screen. He was the most normal thing here, hands down. âYeah, okay,â she said, deciding. She pulled out the phone sheâd been given and waved it at Mr. No-Name. âIâll call if anything happens; otherwise, Iâll see you in eight.â
âGood,â Mr. No-Name said and smiled at herâfullyâfor the first time all night. The sensation of his pleased attention on her was almost as bad as whatever had happened to her on the road here. She wanted to run away, but she found she couldnât. She was struckâpiercedâlike she was a deer in headlights. He was just too much.
Then the cat leapt off the bed and wound around Mr. No-Nameâs legs. He glanced down, and the moment was over. The spotlight had moved on. She sagged, caught herself, and hoped he hadnât seen it. It didnât seem like he had as he knelt down to knuckle the catâs head softly.
The cat meowed at him, repeatedly, as if it had strong opinions, and Mr. No-Name gave it a dour look. âNo, she didnât bring anything for you,â he told the cat, and then looked back to her. âIf you hear any sounds in the house, just ignore them. Itâs an old house; it creaks a lot.â Austin coughed from the door, and Mr. No-Name headed toward him. Her audience was over. The men left, and the cat followed them.
Andi relaxed, then became embarrassed by how sheâd felt. What was she, some kind of schoolgirl? You know better! Whoever sheâd been in the moment heâd looked at herâstupidly happy, foolishly hopeful, and just a teensy bit terrifiedâit wasnât the real her.
The real Andi was a nurse who knew what to doâevery time, all of the time.
She went to the bed, unlooped her stethoscope from her neck, and started to assess her patient.
***
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