Dragon Fire
Author: Dina Von Lowenkraft
Print Release Date: December 15th 2013
Ebook Release Date: August 5th 2013
ISBN: 606192914
(ISBN13: 9781606192917)
Genre: Young Adult, Fantasy,
Romance
Ebook:
Summary
Some choices are hard to live with.
But some choices will kill you.
When
seventeen-year-old Anna first meets Rakan in her hometown north of the
Arctic Circle, she is attracted to his pulsing energy. Unaware that he
is a shapeshifting dragon, Anna is drawn into a murderous cycle of
revenge that pits Rakan and his clan against her best friend June.
Torn
between his forbidden relationship with Anna, punishable by death, and
restoring his family’s honor by killing June, Rakan must decide what is
right. And what is worth living – or dying – for.
Excerpt
In
the Arctic winter, the sun never rises.
In
the Arctic summer, the sun never sets.
In
the Arctic, the world is at your feet.
Chapter 1
The Circle Tightens
The candle flickered in the subzero
wind but Anna made no move to protect it. She stopped on the hill in front of
Tromso’s three-year high school and watched the water of the fjord shimmer
below. Even though it was mid-afternoon there was no sun, just the luminous
reflection of the moon. The procession of students continued on without her,
leaving only the fading sound of crunching snow in their wake.
“You seem as eager to go
to Fritjof’s memorial vigil as I am,” June said, startling Anna with her sudden
appearance.
Anna fingered the oval
piece of bright orange coral that she had carried around like a talisman since
she was a child. She usually kept it in her pocket, but today she wanted to
feel its soothing energy closer and had it in her glove. She had never liked
Fritjof, and even though she wasn’t glad he had died, she wouldn’t miss him.
She turned to face June
whose cobalt blue eyes were at odds with her otherwise Asian features. June and
her boyfriend had also been out on the mountain when the avalanche claimed
Fritjof. “I’m glad it’s not yours too,” Anna said. “I’d really miss you.”
“It would take more than
an avalanche to kill me,” June said, trying to smile. But Anna could feel her
friend’s pain lurking under the surface.
“Hey.” She wrapped an
arm around June to comfort her. But as soon as her hand touched June’s
shoulder, a burst of energy exploded from her stone. Anna ripped off her glove
and the piece of coral went flying. “What the—”
June spun around,
pushing Anna behind her as if to protect her from an attack. She scanned the
area, her body tensed for a fight.
“Who are you looking
for?” Anna pressed her palm to dull the pain as she glanced around the deserted
hilltop. “Whatever it was, it came from my stone.”
June relaxed her stance.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.” Anna
gestured towards the coral-colored sparks that crackled in the darkness of the
Norwegian winter. “What do you think it’s doing?”
“Don’t know.” June
crouched down to get a better look. Her hand hovered as a bright green light
flashed around the stone.
“Don’t touch it,” Anna
said sharply. Her stone had always had a special energy, but never
coral-colored sparks. Or green flashes of light.
“It’s okay now.” June
pulled her hand back. “Look for yourself.”
Anna knelt next to June.
The stone was dark and lifeless and she felt a sudden pang of loss. She prodded
it gingerly with her good hand, but felt nothing. She picked it up. It was just
a pretty bit of coral. The gentle pulsing energy that she had liked so much was
gone.
“Can I see it?” June
asked.
Anna nodded, her throat
constricted. The stone had always reminded her of her father. Its energy was
something he would have been able to feel too. The only other person she had
met so far who was open to that kind of thing was June. Everyone else got
freaked out, or thought she was crazy. So she had learned not to talk about it.
June closed her fist
around the stone. “Where did you get this?” Her voice wavered.
Anna’s attention flicked
back to June. She never wavered. “I found it in the mountains. Years ago. Why?
What is it?”
“A trigger.”
“A trigger for what?”
June returned Anna’s
searching look. “I have no idea.” She handed the stone back.
“So how do you know it’s
a trigger?”
“I just feel it.” June
picked up the candles that lay forgotten in the snow. “If you’re okay, we
should go.”
Anna picked up her
discarded glove and froze. In the middle of her left palm was a star-shaped
scar. She stretched her hand to get a better look. It was about the size of a
dime. She touched it. Like an echo under the fading pain, she could feel the
energy of her stone pulsing faintly in her palm.
“Here,” June said,
offering Anna a candle. She stopped mid-motion. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. The
stone…” She held out her palm. “Look.”
June dropped the candles
and took Anna’s hand in hers. Gently, she ran her fingers over the slightly
raised ridges of the scar. “A Firemark,” June said as if talking to herself.
“But how…?”
“What’s a Firemark?”
Anna examined the scar. It was almost silvery in the moonlight.
June looked up, her
fingers still on Anna’s palm. “It’s like a living connection between two people.
But… there was only the stone.”
“It always felt alive,”
Anna said. She touched the Firemark one last time before putting her glove back
on. It was warm and smooth.
June shook her head.
“But even if it felt alive, it shouldn’t have left a Firemark.”
Anna shrugged. “Maybe.
But I like it.” Anna closed her hand around the Firemark. It felt like she was
holding her stone. She smiled. She’d never lose it now.
June re-lit the candles
again and handed one to Anna. “Ready?”
Anna hooked her arm
through June’s. “I think so.” They walked silently through town and across the
bridge that straddled the green-black fjord.
“Do you think it’s
over?” Anna eyed the Arctic Cathedral that sprawled like slabs of a fallen
glacier on the other side of the fjord. It was lit up like a temple of light.
June shook her head.
“It’s only just begun.”
“That’s enough.” Khotan’s voice snapped
like a whip across the barren land of Ngari in western Tibet. “You’re not going
to kill her. I will.”
The wind howled in
agreement. Rakan bit back the urge to argue with his father whose shaved head
and barrel chest marked him as an Old Dragon. But Khotan’s massive physique
belied his diminishing power, and Rakan knew that his father wouldn’t survive a
fight with the female dragon they had finally located. He had felt her power
when she had set off his trigger just a few hours before. And she was more
powerful than any other dragon he had ever met. Rakan clenched his fists. Blood
for blood. It was the Dragon Code. And he would be the one to honor it.
“You need to start a new
life here,” Khotan said, his hand like a claw of ice on Rakan’s bare shoulder.
“I will end the old.”
His tone of voice, more
than his touch, sent shivers down Rakan’s spine. But before he could question
his father, a flicker of red caught his attention and his older half-sister,
Dvara, materialized on the sparring field. Except she wasn’t dressed to fight.
She was wearing a shimmering red gown that matched the color of her eyes and
her black hair was arranged in an intricate mass of twisted strands.
“It’s too late to teach
Rakan anything.” She made an unhurried motion towards the targets at the other
end of the field. One by one, they exploded with her passing hand.
“We weren’t practicing,”
Rakan said calmly. “Although if we had been, you’d need to start again. You
used a trigger. You didn’t manipulate their structure on a molecular level.”
“Who cares?” Her Maii-a,
the pear-shaped stone that every dragon wore to practice manipulating matter
with, sparkled like an angry flame at her throat. “They’ve been demolished. And
that’s all that counts in a fight.”
Rakan slid his long
black braid over his shoulder. “How you fight is just as important as how you
win.”
“I’d rather stay alive,”
Dvara said. “But you can die honorably if you want.”
“Neither one of you will
fight anyone,” Khotan said. “Remember that.”
Rakan bowed his head.
There was no point arguing about it now. But Dvara lifted her chin defiantly.
“Kraal was my father. I will avenge his death.”
Khotan growled and
stepped towards Dvara, dwarfing her with his size. He held her gaze until she
dropped her eyes. Rakan shook his head, wondering why Dvara always tried to
challenge Khotan’s authority in an open confrontation that she was sure to
lose. Khotan was the guardian of her rök, her dragon heart and the seat of her
power, and she had no choice but to abide by his will.
Their mother, Yarlung,
appeared without warning. “I will speak with Rakan’dzor.” She crossed her arms
over her white gown that sparkled with flashes of turquoise. “Alone.”
She waited, immobile,
until Khotan and Dvara bowed and dematerialized, shifting elsewhere. As soon as
they were gone, her face relaxed and she turned to Rakan, her nearly blind eyes
not quite finding his. “I always knew you would be the one to find her,” she
purred. “You have the strength and the will of my bloodline. And the time has
come for you to use it.” Yarlung tilted her face to the wind. “Kraal gifted me
his poison before he died. Neutralized, of course.”
“But no one can
neutralize dragon poison.”
“Kairök Kraal was a
great Master. His death is a loss for us all.”
Rakan struck his chest
with his fist. “Paaliaq will pay for his death with her own.”
“Yes. She will. And you
will help me.” A faint smile played on her usually austere face. “I will mark
you with his poison so that we can communicate when necessary.”
“Khotan and Dvara have a
full link, isn’t that enough?”
“You don’t expect me to
rely on secondhand information, do you?” snapped Yarlung. She paused and spoke
more gently. “Or are you scared to carry Kraal’s poison?”
Rakan knelt down in
front of Yarlung. “I will do whatever it takes to kill Paaliaq.” His voice cut
through the arid cold of the Tibetan plateau.
Yarlung’s eyes flashed
momentarily turquoise and Rakan stepped back as she morphed into her dragon
form. She was a long, undulating water dragon and the scales around her head
and down her throat glistened like wet opals. Without warning, a bluish-white
fire crackled around him like an electric storm. His mother’s turquoise claws
sank into his arms and pain sizzled through his flesh. The fire disappeared and
Rakan collapsed to the ground, grinding his teeth to keep from screaming in
agony.
He would not dishonor
his family.
“No,
you won’t,”
Yarlung said in his mind.
Rakan’s head jerked up in
surprise.
“You
have just become my most precious tool.” Her voice hummed with pleasure. “You will not fail me.”
As suddenly as the
contact had come, it was gone. And so was his mother. Rakan didn’t like it. Not
her disappearance. That was normal. Yarlung had always been abrupt. But he
didn’t like hearing her in his mind. It was something only dragons who were
joined under a Kairök, a Master Dragon, could do. Few dragons were able to
survive the rush of power that happened when their röks awakened without the
help of a Kairök. But Rakan had.
He gritted his teeth and
stood up. If sharing a mind-link with Yarlung was necessary to kill Paaliaq,
then he would learn to accept it.
He held his arms out to
examine the dragons that had appeared where his mother’s claws had dug into his
biceps. They were long, sinuous water dragons like Yarlung. But they were
black, the color of purity, the color of Kraal. Rakan watched the miniature
turquoise-eyed dragons dance on his arms until they penetrated under his skin.
He felt a cold metallic shiver deep inside as they faded from view.
A rush of pride exploded
in Rakan and he raised his arms to the frozen winter sky, the pain like a blood
pact marking his words. “I will avenge your death, Kairök Kraal. The Earth will
become our new home and your Cairn will once again prosper.”
“You can drop me here.” Anna glared at
her mother’s boyfriend who reminded her of his namesake: a wolf.
Ulf turned the car into
Siri’s driveway and flashed his all too perfect smile. “Not unless you want me
to carry you in. Your shoes aren’t practical for walking in the snow.”
Anna snorted. “You’re
one to talk. You’re the one driving a sports car in the winter.” And she didn’t
feel like having her teammates from the handball team see it.
Ulf threw his head back
and laughed. “I only take it out for special occasions. Like New Year’s.” He
leaned towards her. “Especially
when I have the honor of accompanying a lovely lady.”
“You’re not accompanying
me. You’re dropping me off.”
“Precisely.” He pulled
up in front of the house that pulsed with music, revving his engine one last
time. He jumped out of the car and got to her side just as she was opening her
door. He offered her his arm. “And since I’m a gentleman, I’ll accompany you to
the door.”
Anna ignored Ulf and
struggled to get up while the dress she had decided to wear did its best to
slide all the way up her thighs. Ulf moved to steady her as she wobbled in the
high heels she wasn’t used to wearing but she pushed him away. Her shoes
slipped on the icy snow and she grabbed the railing, wondering why she had
decided to wear them.
“It would be easier if
you’d accept my help.”
“I don’t need your
help,” she said, walking up the stairs. When he followed anyway, she turned to
face him. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“As a matter of fact…
no,” said Ulf. He straightened his white silk scarf that didn’t need
straightening. “Ingrid won’t be off work until eleven.”
The evening was cold and
Anna regretted wearing a dress. “You’re not coming in.”
“We can stand out here,
if that’s what you prefer,” said Ulf, looking up at the sky.
Randi opened the door.
“Anna! Finally,” she squealed. She threw herself at Anna. “I didn’t know you
were bringing someone.”
“I’m not,” Anna said.
“He’s leaving. Now.”
Randi glanced at Ulf who
was leaning elegantly against the railing in what could have passed for a
golden boy fashion shot. “Is that your boyfriend?” Randi asked hanging onto
Anna. She looked Ulf up and down. “Is that why you didn’t come earlier?”
“Let’s go in,” Anna
said, trying to get Randi back in the house.
Ulf slid an arm around
Randi’s waist. “Perhaps I can help.”
“Oh sure,” Randi said.
She giggled as she leaned into Ulf. “You have a nice… car.”
“Leave her alone.” Anna
pried Ulf’s wandering hands away from Randi who was happily wrapping her arms
around Ulf’s neck. “Randi, knock it off.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Randi
pushed away from Ulf. “He’s yours. I forgot.”
“I’ll take her,” said
Siri, steadying Randi. “That way you guys can come in and take your coats off.”
“Ulf has a date,” Anna
said. She blocked the door after Siri and Randi disappeared inside. “With my
mom. Or have you forgotten?”
“Sweet little Anna.” Ulf
reached out to touch her cheek with his leather gloved hand.
Anna slapped it away.
“Get away from me.”
“You’re so adorable when
you’re angry,” he said with a laugh. “Call me when you want me to come for
you.”
Anna resisted the
impulse to slam the door and closed it calmly instead. The living room was
packed with people dancing. She rubbed her forehead and walked over to the
dining room table that was laden with food and drinks instead. She’d never
understand her mom’s taste in men.
Siri came and nudged her
shoulder. “Where’s the guy you came with?””
“Gone,” she answered,
rolling her eyes. “Finally.”
“He didn’t look your type,”
Siri said with a shrug. “But you never know.”
“He’s not. He’s my mom’s boyfriend. And he’s a jerk.”
Siri’s hand hovered over
the massacred chocolate cake. “That’s a mess.”
“Tell me about it.” Ulf
was by far the worst of her mom’s recent boyfriends. He was a liar and a
manipulator. But her mom never saw beyond a pretty face.
Siri dropped her voice.
“Have you seen June? Is she coming?”
“No. She went away with
her boyfriend and his family for the vacation. Why?” Anna noticed Siri’s look
of relief. “Why?” she asked sharply.
“I was worried that
maybe she didn’t feel welcome. And I felt guilty. I mean… I’m really sorry
about Fritjof.” Siri paused. “But I’m starting to wonder why I thought some of
his ideas were good. I know you never liked him. But… I thought he was right.
About June being different and the need to keep our race pure and all that.”
Siri looked away. “I’m embarrassed I let myself believe any of it.”
“He was persuasive, I
guess.” Anna tried not to rub it in, but she was happy that at least one friend
was coming back around.
“Maybe. But I really am
sorry.”
“Tell June after the
break.” Anna put her glass up to Siri’s. “She’ll understand.”
“Why are you girls being
so serious?” boomed Anna’s cousin, Red. He put an arm around each of them.
“There’s music. You should be dancing. Or aren’t there any nice guys?”
“Anna never thinks there
are any nice guys. But I see a few.” Siri raised her glass and headed across
the room that had started to get crowded now that a slow song was playing.
“What are you doing here?”
Anna playfully punched her cousin who was built like a rugby player. “You
graduated last year. You’re not part of the team anymore.”
“We told the guys that
we’d be back,” said Red, nodding to where his best friend, Haakon, was
surrounded by half the boys’ team. “But we can’t stay – we promised the girls
we’d go to a dinner party. And they’ll kill us if we’re late.” Red and Haakon
had dominated the court with their size and skill for the past three years, but
neither of their girlfriends played.
“I’m surprised they even
let you out of their sight.” Anna waved a finger at her cousin who had the same
ultra blond hair and pale blue eyes as she did. “I’ve hardly seen you at all
this vacation.”
“I know. We’ve been
busy. But I’m here now.” The music picked up again. “Dance?” He took her hand
and then dropped it as if he had been stung. He grabbed her wrist and turned
her palm up, revealing the star-shaped Firemark. “Who did this?” he growled,
his face turning the telltale shade of red that had earned him his nickname.
Anna pulled her hand out
of his and closed her fist. “No one.”
“A mark like that can’t
just appear.”
“Why do you care what
did it?”
“What do you mean what did it?” Red gripped her shoulders.
“You were the one…?” Red’s voice trailed off, but his eyes bore into hers as if
he was trying to peer into her mind.
Anna pulled back,
breaking the contact. “What are you talking about?” She hadn’t said anything
about what had happened on the hill and June had left town right after the
vigil.
Red laughed, but Anna
could still feel his anger like a tightly coiled snake. “Nothing,” he said.
“Let’s dance.”
Dvara paced around the massive table
that filled the stone hall of Khotan’s lair. “Why are we waiting? Paaliaq has
had more than enough time to hide again.”
“That is for Kairök
Yarlung to decide,” Khotan said, using Yarlung’s official title as the head of
their Cairn. As Kraal’s mate, she had taken over after his death.
“She’s too busy with her
political games to think about it.” Dvara snorted. “She’s never had time for us
anyhow.”
Rakan looked up from the
intricate wire sculpture he was making. “Maybe she just wants to make sure you
won’t throw yourself at Paaliaq in a hotheaded rage.”
“I’m no fool.” Dvara
leaned over the table towards her half-brother. “I won’t attack until I’m
certain to win. But I will attack. Unlike some I know.”
Rakan stood, towering
over her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sit,” Khotan said from
his high-backed burgundy chair at the head of the table. “Both of you.” He
waited until they complied. “The only reason you’re going instead of one of us
is because Paaliaq won’t recognize you. Unfortunately, neither one of you is
experienced enough to trap Paaliaq on
your own.” Khotan looked from one to the other. “You’ll have to work together.
Remember that.”
“But why did she set off
one of Rakan’s old triggers?” Dvara hit the table with her fist. “It makes no
sense. Even a newborn whelp would have felt what it was before touching it.”
Khotan created a
burgundy colored fireball that floated in front of him. “Either she isn’t
Paaliaq, or she’s luring you into a trap.” The stone walls reflected the warm
glow of the fireball. “This isn’t a game. And I wish we didn’t have to send
you.” Khotan’s face went blank for a split second as it always did when he
spoke mentally with another dragon. “Yarlung bids us come to Lhang-tso,” he
said, standing up. “Now.” Khotan disappeared without a sound, the fireball
still suspended in midair.
Dvara followed in her
stepfather’s trail, leaving Rakan to arrive last on the silver shores of the
intensely blue lake that was Kairök Yarlung’s home. They faced the lake in
their dragon forms. Khotan, an air dragon, rose on his burgundy hind legs and
bellowed their arrival.
The blue-white coils of
Yarlung’s water dragon form undulated majestically in the center of the
crescent shaped lake. Rakan had always felt a sense of awe in front of his
mother’s abode. Something about its starkness, the pungent salty flavor of the
wind that rolled off the lake, the beauty of the contrasting red hills that
surrounded it in the thin air of its 4,500 meter high perch had always made him
feel like he was in the presence of something profound. He smiled and rocked
back onto his own hind legs, stretched his majestic coral wings and added his
greetings to his father’s. Neither animal nor plant life ventured near the
lake. They were refreshingly alone. And free.
Dvara, a compact fire
dragon with only the shortest of wings, dug her claws into the ground. She
raised her jewel-like vermillion head and joined her voice to the others’.
Yarlung approached the
edge of the lake and morphed into her human form. She signaled for them to do
the same. Flashes of turquoise glinted off her metallic white dress. Rakan
knelt next to his father and Dvara, his right fist on the center of his chest
where his rök pounded in excitement.
“Rise. It is time,”
Yarlung said, her voice snapping like thunder. “If the dragon who set off
Rakan’s trigger is Paaliaq, I will savor her death.” Yarlung paused and then
spoke again, more quietly. “If not, I will bind her to me by taking her rök
whether she wills it or not. But I believe she is Paaliaq. Too many things
confirm it. Including the presence of a male dragon who can only be her mate,
Haakaramanoth.”
The wind howled across
the lake.
“From what our scouts
have been able to gather these past three weeks,” Khotan said, “she has created
the illusion of being an untrained whelp and goes by the name Jing Mei. But
don’t be fooled by her innocent appearance.”
Yarlung’s nostrils
flared. “If she even begins to suspect who you are, she’ll kill you. Pretend
you’re untrained. Take your time and get close to her. But not too close. Only
one member of her Cairn is left and she will want to possess you both. Starting
with Rakan’dzor. She has always preferred males.”
“But the Code forbids
blood relatives to have the same Kairök,” Rakan said.
Yarlung snorted.
“Paaliaq has no honor. Never forget that.” She turned to Khotan. “Give Dvara
back her rök. Paaliaq will be suspicious if she doesn’t have it.”
“But the risk…”
stammered Khotan.
“Is of no consequence.
Do it. Now. And then bind her to you as Kraal taught you.”
“No,” said Khotan. “It’s
too dangerous.”
“Have you become so
frail that you can no longer master even that?”
Khotan bowed his head.
“May your will be done,” he said, saying the traditional formula of submission
to a Kairök. But Rakan could feel his father’s anger.
Dvara tilted her chin
and gave Rakan a look of triumph. She had wanted her rök back ever since
Yarlung had declared that he would keep his and remain independent. But
learning to control his rök had been harder than he had let on. Starting with
when he had morphed for the first time not knowing which of the three dragon
forms he would take. But even after he knew he was an air dragon, his rök’s
wild power had nearly overwhelmed him. It wasn’t until Khotan had taught him to
control his emotions that he could morph without fear of involuntarily killing
himself or his family.
Khotan walked over to
Dvara, his fluid black pants snapping in the wind. They stood still, facing
each other as equals even though Khotan loomed over Dvara’s delicate figure.
Khotan began a low chant in Draagsil, the ancient language of the dragon race.
He lifted his arms to the sky, his bare chest glistening like armor. Energy
crackled and began to circle him. It spun faster and faster until Khotan was
nothing more than a shimmering mirage in front of Dvara. A faint drum-like beat
began, steadily increasing in tempo as it grew louder. Suddenly, the wind died
and the beating stopped. A mass of pure vermillion energy licked Khotan’s hands
like the flames of a fire. The energy condensed in a flash of vermillion light,
leaving a bright red stone in Khotan’s palm. Dvara’s dragon heart.
Khotan held the
egg-shaped rök to the sky before releasing it to hover above Dvara’s head. It
glittered like a crown jewel. “My will has been done. You are now your own
master. May your will be one with your rök.”
A red flame moved up
Dvara’s gown, circling her body until it reached her rök. The rök ignited in a
ball of wild energy. It spun around her in an uncontrolled frenzy. It was going
to kill her. Rakan sprang forward, desperate to catch Dvara’s rök before it was
too late, but Khotan stopped him. “No. Their reunion can’t be interfered with.
It must run its course. For better or for worse.”
The rök lurched. Rakan
stood ready to intervene if things got worse. Whether he was supposed to or
not, he wouldn’t stand by and watch her die. A brilliant flash of intense
vermillion encompassed Dvara, knocking her to the ground.
Yarlung snorted in
contempt. “Tend to her.”
Khotan knelt next to
Dvara and touched a hand to her forehead, healing her with his energy. She
latched onto Khotan, her red eyes echoing the wildness of her rök.
“Come,” Khotan said, helping
her to stand. “Do you accept of your own free will that I mark you with Kraal’s
neutralized poison and bind you to me in a partial link?”
“I do.”
“And do you understand
the consequences of this act?”
Yarlung growled her
impatience, but Dvara didn’t take her eyes from Khotan’s.
“I do,” Dvara said
solemnly.
“What
consequences?”
thought Rakan, glancing at his mother. But she ignored him.
Khotan morphed and sank
his claws into Dvara’s bare arms. Rakan watched, horrified, as Dvara writhed by
the edge of the lake in a mixture of rapture and agony. A black winged air
dragon with burgundy eyes danced on each arm before fading under her skin.
“Go now,” Yarlung said,
her words lingering for just a moment after she disappeared.
“Rakan…”
“Yes, Father?”
“If you need to contact
us, send a message through Dvara.”
Rakan nodded, confused.
Didn’t his father know that Yarlung had marked him too?
Khotan disappeared. It
was time.
Author
Born in the US, Dina von Lowenkraft has lived on 4
continents, worked as a graphic artist for television and as a consultant in
the fashion industry. Somewhere between New York and Paris she picked up an MBA
and a black belt. Dina is currently the Regional Advisor for SCBWI Belgium,
where she lives with her husband, two children and three horses.
Giveaway
10 e-books and
2 print copies
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Frances Pauli writes speculative fiction, usually with touches of
humor or romance, which means, of course, that she has trouble choosing sides.
