beat-up car, watches TV with her cat, and lives a very ordinary life
in rural Minnesota among humans. On the outside, you’d never know
that the entirely-typical woman hides a secret.
breathe fire, and is not very intimidating at all. In her home
kingdom of Anarach, she is bullied, tormented, and hated. So, she
chooses to live simply, and blend in with humanity.
he knows exactly who, and what Leorah is hiding. Gabriel O’Donnell
will help uncover who she is, and teach her what she’s capable of.
All the while a dark, ominous force that hasn’t been seen in
centuries threatens everything Leorah holds dear.
and discover just who Leorah is fated to be?
I smiled at them, shaking my head. I tried to imagine what it would have been like to dream only of fairy tale things back then when I was their age. Instead, I had fantasized about living in a place where no one knew who I was just so that I could escape the agony of constant ridicule from my family and their friends and—well, everyone really—about who I was, what I was, what I couldn’t do compared to everyone else. Living under constant scrutiny was hard. I could do no right. I was an embarrassment. I was a freak. Here in Pineville, Minnesota I was still technically a freak too , but what people didn’t know about me didn’t hurt them. I appeared human. Although, I am not. At any moment if I truly desired, though, I could turn into my real self. My real dragon self.
Yes, that’s right. Dragon. I am a dragon. We live in another realm, not unlike your own. Except the primary species in our realm are dragon-shifters.
Everything you’ve heard about dragons is probably true. We fly, breathe fire, are loud and a bit scaly. What you don’t know is that we have magic both in our human and dragon forms. All dragons are capable of different kinds of magic; the type of magic you wield relates to the color of your dragon skin, and we exist in every color of the rainbow right down to silver and gold. My grandfather, an Elder in our home kingdom of Anarach because of his age, is silver. In his dragon form, his skin gleams like a pocketful of coins in a fountain, and he can use light magic which is beneficial in healing. Golden dragons also heal, but can harness the wind as well. My brother is a
red dragon, and he is a fire user; my parents are black and yellow and wield powerful arcane magic and air magic respectively. A dragon for every color and a place for their magic in our society. Well, everyone except me.
All because I share my color with Cyril the Mad, a powerful dragon who was greatly respected until he lost his mind and was exiled by the King and Queen of the Court at that time. No one knows what drove him to madness, but he committed grievous crimes with his power against dragons in a nearby village. Deeds rumored to be so terrible that the law forbade talk of Cyril and his kind. Over the centuries, stories of Cyril and his powers faded into myth and legend. Until another of his kind was born. Another pink dragon. Me.
Pink dragons? I know. I mean… really, it’s ridiculous sounding. It’s a color mutation, apparently. It doesn’t exactly sound scary or intimidating as one expects a dragon should be. But Cyril was a pink dragon and the commonly held opinion is that something about the gene gifted him with immense power while cursing him with insanity. So it is assumed that any others of his kind will be the same: batshit crazy. And that’s what they expect of me- the last remaining pink dragon, the only one of my kind. Rare, ridiculed and despised. But unlike Cyril, I have no magic, I cannot fly, and I don’t even breathe fire. So how can I be a threat to anyone? Nobody seemed to care about that, though. There wasn’t a day back home that I didn’t face disdain and torment. Other drakes—our term for adolescent dragons—wanted nothing to do with me. My parents wanted nothing to do with me; I was a hindrance to their reputations. They were utterly convinced they’d be ruling Anarach and be King and Queen by now had it not been for the taint of shame my birth had left on their standing.
The only two souls that had shown me love and kindness were my brother, Braeden, and my grandfather. A few years ago, on my legal adult birthday back home in Anarach, I took the nearest portal I could find on the outskirts of our village, Green Knoll, and it took me here, to Pineville, Minnesota. With the help of a rogue orange dragon I obtained a last name, documentation and everything else that would be essential for me to live as a typical human in the United States. Coming into the realm of humans, I found it ironic that pink was stereotypically a color signifying weakness and girlish fantasy. You know, princesses, frilly dresses, that sort of thing. Perhaps it was a twist on the stigma that had carried over somehow from the dragon world. Of course, humans like Kit, and heroines in movies, proved to me time and time again that femininity wasn’t weak and pink could equal strength. Pity the same didn’t ring true for this pink dragon.
Back in my birth realm, I am known as Leorah e’na Miradoste. Loosely translated it means “Leorah, daughter of Miradoste,” although it would sound very different in the dragon tongue; rough and guttural to human ears. Amongst humans, I’m Leorah James. It’s the name I prefer. Leorah James; an ordinary human girl with long, strawberry blonde hair, and green eyes. I am small as a dragon and whereas most dragons are tall and lithe in their human form; I am short and curvy with a larger than average chest, wide hips and a slightly soft stomach. No washboard abs for me—but I didn’t desire them. I can shift at a moment’s notice into my dragon form, but I can also live comfortably as a human. On the surface, I smelled, sounded and functioned the same as the people around me, set apart only by my mark.
Every dragon has a mark, resembling a tattoo, somewhere on their body. That mark is individual to them. Dragons in Anarach typically had Celtic symbols, dragon outlines with knotwork on them, in the color of their dragons. Mine was a round dragon, outlined in Celtic weaving with more intricate work in the middle and it was of course, pink. I knew the likelihood of anyone recognizing it as anything other than a tattoo or a birthmark even, was slim, but just in case I wore my long hair down in a thick braid down my back. Paranoia wasn’t a typical dragon trait, but given my upbringing I had acquired it as a necessary skill along with sarcasm, bitterness and a penchant for all things geeky.
But with her newfound power comes responsibility far greater than Leo
must leave the sanctuary of Castle Danger and face their worst fears.
Betrayal, loss, action and adventure- Leorah is in for one hell of a
considered useless, with no magic. All because of age-old ideas, and
fear towards what they didn’t understand.
queen, bonded to the gorgeous Maxxus, with extraordinary magic;
ruling over the kingdom that once shunned her very existence. Now,
Leorah and Maxxus must bring the kingdoms together to try and
strengthen everyone against the mysterious foe up against them.
thing to save them all, if only they quell their fear and let her.
and everything that stands before her. But, is she heroic enough to
give everyone hope?
recommended for readers 18+ only.
kids and a dog (so really…3 children) but mentally her head is in
the clouds dreaming of anything that doesn’t require adulting.
World of Warcraft, reading yet another fantasy book or staying up way
too late. She’d love it if you dropped her a line at Facebook or
Twitter but be prepared…she’s a nictofiliac so be patient for a
response while her eyes adjust to the light of day and beware of
sarcasm. It helps to throw her chocolate or glitter first before
engaging. Wine is also acceptable…but not to throw. Hand it over
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