My agent clapped his hands and laughed. “Now that’s a reaction! I’m so glad. You have a few interviews and blog posts to get done before you go but, other than that, pack your bags. You’re going to meet some dragons.”

The happy dance I engaged in couldn’t be helped. Me. Meeting real-life dragons. Maybe one of them would let me touch their scales. Look into their golden eyes. Be among them. Watch them take flight. All of it.

This was the trip of a lifetime.

“Save that dance for the dragons. Who knows. Maybe you might find a partner there. A date with a dragon? Sounds like a good time to me.”

I sat down, my body tingling from the excitement. “I don’t think dragons mate humans in real life. Sure, it happens in romantasy books and on TV, but…” I stopped myself before I went on a full rant about all the things I assumed about dragon mating and romance.

“You might be the exception. You have certainly exceeded our expectations with this book. Go have some fun and then, let’s get back to work. Book two won’t write itself. Everyone wants more about your quirky side characters and that brooding dragon from the mountains. Take care, Boen!”

He signed off before I could respond. There wasn’t a thank-you I could mutter that would be sufficient for the gift he had given me.

I shut the laptop and ran to my room. I had no proper luggage for a trip like this but, with a few clicks, I could. I picked out a set of nice luggage, since before then, my graphic artist salary hadn’t afforded it, and decided to go do some shopping.

While I didn’t believe in Zack’s notion about finding a dragon mate, I did think there was a chance I could meet someone special. Someone who clearly shared my interests since they were at a dragon festival.

Someone to share a life with. My bed with.

Goddess, that sounded nice.

I got dressed and made my way to a boutique down the road where I was greeted by a dapper older man behind the counter. “Hello, what can I do for you?”

Now that I had some money in the bank, I had the luxury of buying some nice clothes for myself. Thrifting was my favorite, but it was no longer a necessity. Having a bit of money in my pocket was nice for a change.

“I’m going to a festival, and I want to look my best. Can you help me?”

The man smiled. “Of course I can. You’ve come to the right place.”

Chapter Three

Cyrus

Dragon Fest is the biggest event of our year. For centuries, dragons and humans were at odds. Or, according to legend, more like mortal enemies. Growing up, I’d wondered why things were so awkward until I stumbled onto a book of fairy tales and wound up sitting in my closet, hugging my hoard of action figures in fear of some guy with a sword and an attitude.

Took my folks two hours to talk me out and convince me that St. George lived nowhere in the neighborhood. Which was suburban—not many modern dragons live in caves secluded in the mountains, curled around a heap of jewels, pewter, silver, and other precious metals. Most prefer a comfy sofa to a rock slab for hanging out. And most do not advertise their true selves. The kids I grew up with had no idea the spelling bee winner for fourth grade would one day take to the skies with scales and flame.

Fact was, even at that point things could be tense, which was why Dragon Fest was so phenomenal. Humans and dragons coming together in a wild celebration. The small town where I’d set up shop had its own magical feel, or maybe that was just because we weren’t inundated with chain stores and fast-food drive-thrus.

I hadn’t planned to stop here; in fact, I’d had no idea where I was going the day I saw the For Sale by Owner sign in front of the building. But an impulsive call led to an offer led to extensive remodeling, and finally, six months ago, our grand opening.

My arrival just after last year’s Dragon Fest had left me unprepared for what I’d be facing. Instead of a nice, steady clientele, for this event, reservations had come in months ahead of time, and every room was booked. This town was all aboutdragons, even the Welcome sign on the outskirts featuring one with wings spread and a lick of flame seeping from its mouth.

And yet…nearly everyone who lived here was human and had no idea dragons were more than characters in stories or movies. At one point, I almost canceled the purchase because who wants to always be a character in someone else’s story? But then I stopped in the convenience store just behind that Welcome sign and learned I was not alone.

The pump outside had a sticker over the card reader that saidPay Inside, so, grumbling, I trudged across the parking lot to the glass doors and entered the shop. Walls were lined with bags of chips and nuts and rows of candy bars. The back wall was all refrigerated beverages with one section for frozen things like ice and pizza. Every inch of the store was filled with road food and if there was a single calorie of healthful anything, I didn’t see it.

Nor did I see anyone who could help me run my card and get the gas I needed before I got stuck on the side of the highway.

“Anyone here?”

A head popped up from behind the counter, and a tall, lean dragon shifter rose to face me. He had red hair and freckles, gangly arms and legs, and very little of the dignity I’d been told all dragons must exhibit at all times.

I liked him before he even said hello.

“What can we do for you?”

We? I looked around again, seeing nobody. Must be the royal we. “I wanted to pay for gas?”