Dragons. Right. Teenage girls don't believe in fairy tales, and sixteen-year-old Elena Watkins was no different.
Until the night a fairy tale killed her father.
Now Elena is in a new world, and a new school. The cutest guy around may be an evil dragon, a prince wants Elena's heart, and a long dead sorcerer may be waking up to kill her. Oh and the only way Elena's going to graduate is on the back of a dragon of her own.
Teenage girls don't believe in fairy tales. Now it's time for Elena to believe in...herself.
Synopsis:
For the love of blueberries, Elena Watkins was destined for greatness, even though she didn’t know it. Forced to travel from home to home every three months Elena’s life was a never ending blur of new towns and new faces, that is, until the night her father was killed by a creature she thought only existed in fairy tales – a dragon. With her father’s death leaving her orphaned, Elena is whisked away to her true birthplace, Paegeia.
Arriving at Dragonia Academy, the premier school for young Dragonians, she begins to feel a sense of belonging in this strange world; a school she was never meant to attend because her father was a dragon. Elena is soon swept up in the rigor of her new life and the new set of skills she now needs to survive: Latin, Art of War, and Enchantments.
Entranced by her new reality Elena learns about the dragons and humans who inhabit her new home. There are two classes of dragons that soar through Paegeia distinguished by their instinctual pretense for either good or darkness. The distinction between these two very different species is vital to Elena’s success in her new world because she has been marked as a Dragonian, a human preordained to ride and tame a dragon of her very own.
With the help of her new friends, Elena is able to navigate the complexities of her new home. Her new roommates Becky and Sammy are even more amazing then she could have ever imaged and to top it all off, Sammy was a dragon. Sammy’s is also the devoted sister of Blake, the most attractive boy at school and the Rubicon; the only dragon of his kind with the abilities of all the dragon species with a pretense for evil. Elena soon finds the love she always wanted with Lucian, the Prince of Tith, who actively pursues Elena throughout her time at Dragonia Academy, winning her heart with his absolute adoration and unshaken dedication.
Unbeknownst to Elena danger is lurking behind the enchanted vines concealing the once thriving capital of Paegeia – Etan. Goran, the darkest sorcerer to ever practice his evil arts in the realm, has lain dormant for over a century behind the crumbling city. The first step in his menacing plan is to destroy the only weapon that can kill him – the King of Lion Sword.
When the sword is stolen Elena doesn’t think twice about seeking it; knowing deep down that it is her destiny to save her new home. She travels to the Sacred Cavern, and discovers the nefarious actions of an unknown man lead to the swords destruction as she follows the trail revealed in the prophetic waters of the cavern.
Elena and her friends engage the mysterious man revealing their existence to Goran and fighting for their very lives.
EXCERPT:
A GIRL SINGING HER heart out
about a miracle boomed inside my ear. A miracle would get me what I needed: a
chance at a semi-normal life.
The
bedroom door hitting the wall expelled the thought from my mind. With his hand
tangled up in his copper hair, and with huge brown eyes, Dad's figure filled
the entire doorway. “Pack your bags.” He had that set to his jaw, the one that
meant there was no way out of this. He bolted out of the room just as suddenly
as he had appeared.
My
teeth ground hard against each other, and the sharp pain behind my eyes, I
guessed from the lack of sleep, grew stronger. Every fiber of my being wanted
to explode.
Ever
since I could remember my name, Dad and I had been on the run. From what? Beats
me.
For
the last two weeks, I'd been pacing up and down through the house, struggling
to fall asleep at night, waiting for this day.
For the love of blueberries, no
sixteen-year-old should live this way!
I
climbed off my bed, and the first step I took left my toe tangled in the wide
leg of my jeans. I tried to regain my balance as the closet inched closer, but
with wildly flailing arms, I came crashing down. The thud reverberated across
the wooden floor, and it sounded as if I'd broken something.
Dad
darted back into my room. “Are you okay?” He lifted me back onto my feet as if
I weighed nothing.
Tears
lurked in the corners of my eyes, threatening to burst, as I stared up at him.
“Don't
give me that look, Elena. Please, we need to hurry.” He pulled my suitcase from
the top shelf and chucked it haphazardly onto my bed. “We need to go.
Now.”
“Dad…”
He
started to grab my clothes from the shelf and tossed them messily inside my
small suitcase. Then he paused, sighed, and looked up with soft eyes. He
stroked the side of my cheek. “This . . .” He looked past me. “. . . wasn't the
right place, Bear. Please, you’ve got to trust me.”
His
hand reached back to pull everything off my shelf, while my hands curled up
into balls of fury. My heart pounded fast as those two words bounced inside my
skull. “Trust you?”
“Elena,
we don't have much time,” he yelled. “Pack your bags! You can ask questions
later.” He left, and the hollow thump
from his stomping footsteps rang loudly as he made his way into the hall.
Ask questions? Yeah right! I’ll only
get answers that don’t reveal why we are on the run for the gazillionth time. “Trust me” and “I'll tell you when
the time is right” were the only two answers Dad gave. Guess the time with him will never be right.
It
was no use arguing with him anyway. Once, he threw me over his shoulder and
carried me out without any of my things.
So
I grabbed the stuff I needed: my mp3 player, a photo of Mom and me on my first
birthday that Dad didn't know I had, and my journal from underneath my bed. I
tossed them into my backpack. It wasn't much, but it was the stuff that made my
miserable life feel less pathetic. I zipped up my suitcase and took a deep
breath. Looking around my bedroom for the last time, I said goodbye to my
sixtieth-something room.
Dad
almost ran me over in the hall, with his army bag slung over his shoulder. He
grumbled, which I assumed was an apology, took my suitcase, and ran down the
stairs. He always rented these huge old houses, pre-furnished and near the
countryside, and we always left after three months.
The
pickup's horn honked as I shut the front door. I closed my eyes and took
another deep breath. Just two more years,
then I'll be eighteen and free from this freak show. Huge raindrops fell
hard onto the ground. The smell of wet dirt filled the air. It was my favorite
smell.
The
water that pooled on the ground covered all the gaps in the driveway, forcing
me to hopscotch around all of them. My shoe got caught in one of the gaps and I
smacked down hard in a huge puddle. By the time I reached the truck, my jeans
and shoes dripped with water.
Warm
heat from the vents inside the truck hit me full blast as I jumped in; a million
goose bumps erupted across my skin. As
soon as I shut the rusty door, Dad floored the gas pedal. Tires screeched and
the truck spun away as if the Devil was chasing us. My lower lip quivered softly as he swerved
onto the road. The streetlights flew by in a blur, and I plugged in my
earphones. The same stupid song about a miracle boomed from my mp3, drowning
the sound of the engine and the hard dribbles on the roof, a percussion that
became the perpetual soundtrack to my misery.
A
feeling of utter loneliness consumed my heart while I stared out the window.
Homes with white picket fences and a convenience store whizzed by in a flash. A
tear rolled down my cheek. Saying a silent goodbye, I released my breath and
watched as it created a foggy condensation on the glass. Reaching out with my
index finger, I drew a small heart. These were the reasons why Mom had left.
She couldn't handle his paranoia, but why she’d left her two-year-old daughter
to deal with it was a mystery. Dad constantly reminded me of the latter; that
was the only time he ever spoke of her. If he ever discovered I had that
picture, he would kill me. That was how much he hated her for leaving us.
The
lights of a vehicle in the upcoming lane shone directly into my face. I shut my
eyes, waiting for it to disappear. When I was little, I used to watch Dad as we
drove away from yet another house. He would glare into his rearview mirror
every five seconds, every muscle in his face clenched, and his knuckles white
on the steering wheel. I hadn’t been able to force myself to peek out the
window then, as it used to scare the living crap out of me to consider the
possible reasons why he was fleeing, or who might be following us. Now, I
didn't look at him or care much about what he was going through. He’d created
this problem, with me becoming the luggage. It was a ritual I endured every
three months, and nothing over the past sixteen years had ever changed that.
The
“Interstate 40” sign flew by in a whirl, and the pickup slowly moved onto the
turnoff lane.
My
eyes started to burn as I stared at the rain running sideways against my
window. Each rivet resembled another town, another place I could never again
call home. Exhaustion consumed me and my eyelids felt heavy. I laid my head
against the window and struggled to stay awake.
Suddenly,
a huge figure flew past me. Dad swerved to the left, which made me crash into
his side. My entire body pumped with adrenaline. I jumped straight in my seat,
tore out my earphones, as I wrenched the seatbelt over my shoulder to buckle
myself in, while trying to process what had just happened.
“What
was that?” I looked at Dad.
He
kept checking his rearview mirror every five seconds with huge eyes. Beads of
sweat rolled from his hairline down to the side of his temple. Sure, he was
paranoid, but I’d never seen Dad look this scared in my entire life. This was
something more than his usual paranoia.
“Dad!”
“Did
you see where it went?” he asked, attempting to inject calm into his voice, but
I could hear the fear lacing each syllable.
“See
where what went? Dad, what was that?”
“You
wouldn't believe me if I told you.”
“For
once in your life, just tell me!” I screamed. Sixteen years of frustration
exploded from my lungs. I couldn't take the unknown anymore.
“Fine.”
He mumbled something else that I didn't catch. “Do you remember the stories I
used to tell you?”
“Stories?
What stories?”
“The
stories about Paegeia, Elena.” He looked in his rearview mirror again with
huge, unblinking eyes.
Vaguely,
but I didn't tell him that. “What does that have to do with this?”
“They're
real.”
I
froze and stared at him.
“All
of it, it’s real. The dragons, the magic, the wall, everything is real.”
Goodreads ** Amazon ** Barnes&Noble
About the author:
Adrienne Woods was born and raised in South Africa, where she still lives with her husband, and two beautiful little girls. She always knew that she was going to be a writer but it only started to happen about four years ago. In her free time, If she gets any because Moms don’t really have free time, she loves to spend time with friends, if it’s a girls night out, or just a movie, she’s a very chilled person.
Her writing career is starting with Firebolt, book one with the Dragonian Series, there will be four books in total and two to three books that is about the stories taking place inside The Dragonian Series. Her other series, Dream Casters, will be released mid 2015. She also writes in different Genres, her woman’s fiction called the Pregnancy Diaries will be published under another name. And then she has a paranormal series, called the Aswang series. There are about ten novels in that one. Then there is another series, Guardians of Monsters which will be released in 2016.
Website ** Blog ** Facebook Book Series Page ** Google+ ** Twitter ** Fire Quill Publishing
No comments:
Post a Comment