Ever wanted to see visual approximations of the dragons from the Of Cinder and Bone series? Here’s your chance. Each dragon also has a little factual tidbit beside the illustrations. This list includes the named and seen dragons in Books 1-4, so beware of spoilers.
This is NOT for sale and no profit will be derived from this post. All artists that I was able to identify are credited in each illustration.
Have fun!
Update 7/26/22
It’s officially been three months since the release of my new novel, Of Claws and Inferno! I’m ripping the spoiler tag off and now it’s time to meet the new dragons featured in Book Five. Peruse at your peril.
Book Five in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Claws and Inferno, launches April 22nd! Here is the final excerpt for your reading enjoyment. As always, spoilers ahead. Smaller warning for a bit of language. You can catch up on Excerpt 1 and 2 before jumping in for Excerpt 3.
Don’t forget that the special pre-order price of .99 cents will only last until launch day. The price WILL increase on April 23rd. Happy reading!
–
A common element in dragon smuggling was the use of privately owned pet stores or exotic pet shops. The transportation would use the company’s logo or even one of their actual vehicles to move the animals across state lines without drawing too much suspicion and to be able to operate in daylight hours. Often, the smugglers paid the shop owners to use their stores to keep the dragons temporarily so they could either go to a dragon fighting ring, be sold to a private owner, or be sent to an illegal cloning site. Given how many shops there were in every city, it made it virtually impossible for the authorities to be able to monitor them all for illegal activity. Tips usually came from a neighbor or bystander who happened to see or hear something unusual, occasionally an employee of the shop who knew something fishy was going on.
This particular tip came from an anonymous source who likely had been cut out of the deal, as they hadn’t identified themselves—just given the Knight Division the location and the possible time of the exchange. They often hit dead ends or were given useless information, but each case had to be investigated. The location was The Wild Ones: an exotic pet shop that sat by itself in a parking lot off of Loop 101. It presented a challenge since it would be easy for someone to see them coming due to the long stretch of road approaching the property.
Which was where having a dragon came in handy.
“Where are you, little bit?” Jack asked over the comm-link.
“Turning onto the exit now. How’s it looking?”
“Parking lot’s empty,” he said as he zoomed in on the property from the tree line on the outskirts, roughly thirty yards from the building. The Wild Ones was one of the largest pet shops in the state with dozens of birds, reptiles, and other animals. The building was the size of an average supermarket. Jack and Hawn had hitched a ride halfway there with Libby in the Knight Division’s decked-out van, then had flown the rest of the way to remain covert. There was bound to be a lookout and so they’d been at a high altitude, then dropped into the woods to stay out of sight. “The tip said they should be here in the next few minutes, assuming it’s legitimate.”
“I love trusting the word of potential criminals.”
“Hey, at least you’re not a detective. They have to do that twenty-four seven.”
“If I’m gonna risk my life for a living, I’d rather get paid better than that.”
“I feel you on that front.” Hawn bumped his side with her head. Jack reached out and petted the dragon’s neck. “Patience, girlie. Shouldn’t be long now.”
Sure enough, a mid-sized cargo van turned into the parking lot and drove past the side of the building to the rear. “Looks like we’re on.”
“Ten-four. I’m about to go past and head for the field half a mile up. Be careful, Barry.”
“Roger that.”
Jack and Hawn stealthily slipped through the woods until they could see the back of the building. There was a loading dock to the left side and a large pull-down garage door. The rear entrance to the shop was towards the right. The cargo van backed into the loading dock space, but the engine remained idle. Jack switched the heads-up display to thermal readings. “I see two people in the cab and the crate of eggs in the rear.”
“Is the igneous dragon with him?”
Jack muttered a curse as he scanned. “Yep. Looks like it’s caged up in the back watching over the eggs.”
“Dammit. I’ll hail Shannon and let him know. Stand by.”
“Ten-four.” He heard the link click and hit record on the feed in his helmet. The cab doors opened and Farhad stepped out onto the pavement. Jack winced as he noted the guy had bulked up quite a lot since the photo he’d seen. He wore an off-white linen shirt, unbuttoned, over a sleeveless tank and khakis. Jack also spotted a handgun on a holster beneath Farhad’s left arm. He definitely didn’t want to tangle with this guy if he could help it.
The driver hopped up onto the waist-high wall of the loading dock, finally giving Jack a look. She was olive-skinned as well, her black hair sporting an undercut. She wore a black t-shirt and matching jeans and boots. Jack noted a gun on her hip as well. She’d left the van idling with the keys in the ignition, which implied it would be a short visit.
The rear entrance to the store opened and a stocky, short-haired brunette woman in a white golf shirt and cargo shorts emerged. They’d done a quick check on the store before arriving, so he knew she was the store owner, Bethany Hrapski. A large, sun-tanned man with sandy hair flanked her wearing the same outfit; her husband, Jeremy Hrapski. Neither appeared to be armed, which led him to believe they probably weren’t career criminals. It was likely they’d been contacted and given an offer for some extra cash to smuggle dragon eggs. It was less risk than smuggling young or fully grown dragons. Neither had a criminal record based on what the Knight Division had pulled from their backgrounds. Until now.
Jack wasn’t close enough to be able to get audio, so he zoomed in enough to read their lips. The general gist of the conversation was confirming the cargo and the amount of money the shop owners would be paid. The eggs would be kept there in secret to be auctioned off later that evening to a group of buyers. There were twelve eggs total: three Hercules dragons, six Australian desert dragons, and three crystal dragons.
“I’m back,” Libby said over the comm-link. “Instructions are to neutralize the igneous dragon and then the cops will move in.”
“Oh, good,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “An easy job at last.”
“I know,” Libby replied, irritation clear in her voice. “We’re still getting quite a bit of resentment from the cops due to the nature of our work, so they assume we can handle this on our own.”
“Well, I’ve only met four cops in my entire life that I ever liked, so the feeling’s mutual.”
“That’s four more than me, so no judgment here. What do you think?”
“Best bet would be to create a distraction and steal the cargo van. That way, Farhad can’t spring the igneous dragon to wreak havoc and the cops can raid the joint and take everyone into custody. Do we have air support?”
“Yeah, they’re just waiting on the signal.”
“Good. If anyone tries to hoof it, the helicopter should be able to track them. I’ll puncture the tires on the Hrapskis’ car first and then go for the cargo van. Still, it’s four against one. The Hrapskis don’t appear to be armed, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have firearms in the shop. I need you and Jayna to head over to back me up in case this goes sideways.”
“Alright, we’re on our way. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Ten-four.” Jack patted Hawn’s side to get the dragon’s attention. “Stay. I’ll whistle if I need you.”
The dragon sunk into the dirt in sphinx position at the command. Jack almost smiled. It never ceased to amaze him how intelligent the dragons were. If the world weren’t so aggressively awful, some of them could certainly be domesticated.
The Hrapskis had a silver Nissan minivan parked one space down from where the cargo van had parked in front of the loading dock. Jack slunk through the woods until he was at an angle obscured by both vehicles and waited until Jeremy lifted the garage door and the group began to unload the dragon eggs from the back.
“Moving in now.”
“Gotcha. Be there in five. I’ll perch on the roof.”
Jack eased across the lot and took out his pocketknife before crawling beneath the van and strategically poking holes in each tire. He then rolled under the cargo van and wriggled towards the rear on his belly. He waited for them to finish unloading the dragon eggs until they were all standing on the docking platform and then slipped a flashbang from his utility belt.
He took a deep breath and pulled the pin. “Here goes nothing.”
Jack popped up enough to toss it at their feet and then ducked underneath the cargo van.
The flashbang detonated. An explosion of light illuminated the surrounding area and he heard the group yelp in pain and alarm.
Jack scrambled for the front of the cargo van and wrenched the driver’s side door open. He jumped inside and locked the doors. He checked the back to see a wire net between the cab and the rear where the cargo went. The igneous dragon had screeched when the flashbang went off, as the back doors were both open. It stood at around the same height and weight as Hawn with dark grey scales and white spines down its back, its white wings tucked into its sides as it shook about in its metal cage.
He shifted gears and slammed the gas pedal just as he heard Farhad and the others shouting angrily about being ambushed. The van lurched forward clumsily over the hot, cracked pavement of the lot, jostling both Jack and the dragon violently back and forth as he headed for the side of the building. Gunshots barked a second later. He could hear some of the bullets pinging off the side of the van’s exterior and ducked his head down.
“Libs, did I get them all with the flashbang?”
“The Hrapskis are down, but Farhad and his driver aren’t,” Libby said. “I’m gonna give you some cover, hang on.”
Jack swerved the van in evasive actions as the shots kept coming. He had several yards before he’d be out of sight, but if they’d taken off running after him, they could still hit him or the tires before he cleared the lot back onto the street. He checked his rearview mirror to see a cloud of tear gas explode on the platform, swallowing the driver and the two shop owners in a haze.
Farhad had already leapt off of it and was sprinting after them with an eerie, Terminator-like precision. He took shots every few feet, tearing holes in the wildly swinging doors and along the bumper.
“Dude’s pretty spry for an old guy,” Jack said as he finally swerved around the corner to the left side of the building. “Can you take him out, little bit?”
“I’m on it.”
A second later, a pair of bolas whipped around Farhad’s knees and he smashed into the pavement face-first.
“Oh!” Jack exclaimed. “Shit, that’s a broken nose alright.”
“Crime don’t pay,” Libby cackled.
“It damn sure doesn’t. I’m almost to the street. You can call in the cavalry and get clear.”
“Happily.”
Just as Jack reached the street, he noticed Farhad moving from where he’d faceplanted on the pavement. He’d rolled over and held something out in Jack’s direction. Jack couldn’t see what it was from so far away. “The hell?”
Then, the door to the igneous dragon’s cage swung open.
The cage door was remote-control activated.
“Fuck. Me.”
–
Pre-order Of Claws and Inferno on Amazon or any other major retailer and don’t forget to enter for a chance to win a free copy of the paperback on Goodreads from now until launch day.
Cover art by BRose Designz; Promo Image by Silver Dagger Blog Tours
We’re officially less than 1 month away from the release of Book 5 in the Of Cinder and Bone series. To celebrate, I’ve created a Goodreads giveaway. Enter to win a free paperback copy of the book from now until April 22nd, 2022. Don’t miss your chance to own a copy!
In a modern day world teeming with marauding dragons, there is only one solution: The Wild Hunt.
Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson and Dr. Kamala Anjali have worked for the Knight Division capturing wild dragons for years, but now the government has decided to hold a tournament called The Wild Hunt. Jack, Kamala, and their teammates Calloway, Libby, Agent Shannon, and Yousef, must capture five of the deadliest dragons alive before the opposing team or they lose their jobs at the Knight Division. Jack and Kamala are also chasing after Kazuma Okegawa, the yakuza lieutenant who has been trying to kill them. Okegawa is planning a hostile takeover of the worldwide illegal dragon trade and if he succeeds, everyone will be in grave danger. Between the Wild Hunt and Okegawa’s plot to destroy everything in his path, Jack and Kamala have to rely on each other to stay alive in the middle of an inferno.
Of Claws and Inferno is the fifth book in the Of Cinder and Bone science fiction/contemporary fantasy series. It follows Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, Of Dawn and Embers, and Of Fury and Fangs.
We’re coming up on the release date for the fifth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Claws and Inferno, so here’s your second excerpt! Spoiler alert, as always. Read the first excerpt here if you’re not caught up yet.
CHAPTER FIVE
ARRIVALS AND DEPARTURES
The abyss gazed back.
That was what Faye Worthington, MIT engineer and designer of the Knight Division’s dragon tracker technology, had learned over the last year.
“Hold your arms out, please.”
Faye spread her arms and legs. The guard swept her from head to toe with the metal detector, then gave her a pat down. She smirked when he returned in front of her, fluffing out her natural blonde locks around her shoulders. “Wow. You didn’t cop a feel. I’m proud of you.”
The guard gave her a stony look. She smiled wider, batting her lashes. “You have ten minutes, Ms. Worthington. Don’t make him late for his appointment.”
“Of course. Then I’d be late, since we have the same appointment.”
She heard a loud buzzing noise and then the iron gates unlocked in front of her. The guard pulled them open and she walked through them, her stride easy, relaxed, despite how she actually felt inside. Her stomach wouldn’t stop doing jumping jacks. She hadn’t been able to eat anything as a result. It annoyed her to no end.
Another guard opened a second door for her into the visitation area of the Cedar Junction Massachusetts Correctional Institution. Her heart thumped clumsily against her sternum as she walked through the maze of tables to the one designated for her and the room’s only occupant.
The man sitting at the table was of indeterminant age. His features were plain and ordinary as could be but for his dark brown eyes. Somehow or other, the fluorescent lights didn’t seem to reach them, as if they were perpetually in darkness, like twin black holes set in his brow. His head was completely shaved bald and beneath his dark red jumpsuit was a compact, muscular frame.
“Well, well, well,” Winston, hitman extraordinaire, drawled, his mouth stretching into a pointy grin. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Faye snorted as she pulled the chair out from the table and sat down. “Excuse you. I’m wearing Prada. Nobody dragged me anywhere.”
Winston chuckled as he glanced over her exquisite red dress. “Acknowledged. I’m flattered you dressed up for me.”
Faye rolled her eyes. “You wish, bastard. Do you know how many members of the press are showing up to this farce? I have to keep up appearances. Besides, pretty sure having a nice rack will positively influence the media to give me sympathy points.”
“You’re being downright tactical about it, huh?”
Faye shrugged. “Can’t hurt my chances.”
“Chances, heh. Even without me talking, it’s pretty open and shut. I ain’t a rich politician. I was never getting off for this shit, even if I had gone with a fancy lawyer.”
Faye crossed her arms, her blue-grey eyes fixed intently on him. “And why didn’t you? We both know you’ve got the means to make it happen.”
Winston rubbed his scalp, his handcuffs jingling. “Why bother wasting the money?”
“Aren’t you up against the death penalty because you wouldn’t talk?”
Winston shrugged. “Lived a good life. If they wanna kill me, they can go ahead. Wouldn’t do what I do for a living if I were afraid of death.”
Faye’s eyes narrowed. “You said do, not did.”
Winston smiled. “Did I?”
“Uh-huh. You’re up to something.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You offered to meet with me before we go to the sentencing. Why?”
Winston touched his chest, pretending to be offended. “Blondie, I’m hurt. Are you saying you didn’t want to say goodbye? After all, this concludes our little cat-and-mouse game. They’re not going to let us have another private chat after this point. Especially not if I get the needle.”
“Let’s just say I’m skeptical that you don’t have some scheme to break yourself out of prison waiting in the wings.”
The grin returned. “You really think I’m capable of it?”
“I am more than sure you are. As much as I’d like to believe that I won our game, I’m not convinced. You let me win. I take issue with that.” The pretend amiability left her expression. Steel replaced it. “I’m not a child, Winston. You said you wanted a worthy opponent. You said you wouldn’t mind a beautiful Valkyrie like me putting you in the ground. So tell me what’s really going on here? Why didn’t you try to break out of prison to come after me?”
Winston clucked his tongue. “Too easy. That mystery you’ll have to figure out on your own. You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll get there soon enough.”
Faye shot him a sour look. “So then you brought me in here just to screw with me?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what? Do you expect me to humanize you and ask twenty questions like the Iceman Chronicles or something?”
Winston flashed his teeth. “You know goddamn well I ain’t human, blondie.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” She sat back in her seat and scrutinized him. “Fine. If I’m not here for you, then I have to figure I’m here for Stella.”
“Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”
“What’s there to say? She’s in hot water, same as you, only worse because she shot Deputy Burns in the leg in front of the whole precinct. A lot of cops got hurt during that raid on her safe house, too. She did opt for the fancy lawyer, but we both know she’s not getting out of this either.”
“You’re assuming I brought you here to tell you something and not the other way around.”
Faye blinked in surprise. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I want to know if she’s sent anyone after you since she’s been in slam.”
“Oh. That. Yeah, she has.”
Winston scowled. “Tell me.”
Faye ran a hand through her hair. “Let’s see. There was the suspicious package delivered to our front door. We had to evacuate and call in the bomb squad, but it turned out to be a false alarm. All that was inside the box was an hourglass and a note that said, ‘You’re living on borrowed time.’ Technically speaking, it could’ve come from one of Jack and Kam’s enemies, but I wouldn’t put it past Stella. A week after that, I was walking to my car and Jack called me. Apparently, that shorted out the nice little car bomb someone attached to my Honda Civic and set it off early.”
“Jesus Christ,” Winston swore.
“Yeah, she’s a real piece of work, your ex-wife. When the bomb didn’t work, she sent McKenzie.”
Winston sucked his teeth. “Oh, that punk.”
“Yeah. He was hiding behind a dumpster when I got out of my evening hair appointment. Tried to strangle me in the parking garage.”
He snorted. “How did that go for him?”
Faye smiled. “Three broken ribs and a gunshot to the right foot.”
Winston whistled. “Atta girl.”
“And then there was Silicon Valley.”
Winston frowned. “What happened in Silicon Valley?”
“Sniper. I was leaving a conference center after a lecture about the dragon trackers. I sneezed right when he pulled the trigger, which made him miss. The bullet hit the trunk of the Uber I’d been about to get in. Total dumb luck. I took cover before he could try for another shot.”
“Did they catch the culprit?”
Faye shook her head. “Unfortunately, they think he was perched on top of a hotel. Once he blew the shot, he probably just went back inside to his room and waited it out. No one remembers seeing anything and the hotel’s old school, no cameras on the rooftop or in the hallways.”
“And when did that happen?”
“Six months ago.”
“Nothing since?”
“No.”
Winston’s frown deepened. “Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”
“I don’t think anything. I know it is. Stella’s sentencing is this Friday. Dollars to donuts, that’s when she makes her final play.”
“And just what are you going to do about it?”
“I’ve survived her twice already. Third time’s the charm. I’ve been in martial arts and sharpshooting classes since last April and I’m licensed to carry. If she’s stupid enough to try anything, then she won’t have to worry about a needle.”
Winston nodded. “Good girl. Death penalty’s up in the air for me, but the stuff they managed to unearth about Stella almost guarantees the death penalty, especially with her accepting the contract on Dr. Anjali while she was pregnant. Juries and judges aren’t supposed to be influenced by things like that, but in truth, they are. You try to kill a kid or a baby under their watch and you’re done. That’s why I never went after anyone younger than twenty-one, no matter what the price tag was. Stella doesn’t have my scruples. Predators are most dangerous when they’re cornered. This is the endgame, blondie. You’d better be ready.”
“I will be,” Faye whispered. “And this time, you won’t be there to stop me from pulling the trigger.”
“I’ve had time to think about that. And I realized this whole time you’ve been toeing that line between vengeance and justice. To some degree, I’d hoped you’d be able to keep your hands clean. Protect without becoming a killer, like me. But life doesn’t work that way. That first kill changes you.”
Faye tilted her head slightly. “When was your first kill?”
Winston met her stare for a long while, then exhaled. “I was nineteen, fighting a war I probably shouldn’t have been fighting, but it’s not like I knew that at the time.”
“Mm. Did you regret it?”
Winston grinned, but she could see the dark edges to it. “What? You think I come from some tragic backstory, blondie? That I’m a broken little boy who kills to fill that hole inside of my chest where my soul used to be? Nah. This ain’t one of them stories. I can’t dance or roll my tongue, but I can kill people pretty good. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at and when I lay my head down at night, I sleep like a baby. I don’t see their faces. Never have. Probably never will.”
A chill spilled through her. The matter-of-fact nature of his confession scared her more than almost anything else she’d ever heard him say.
Faye licked her lips. “They told me no one’s been able to ID you. You don’t have any family? Friends?”
“Do you think I’d tell you even if I did?”
Faye snorted. “Yeah, guess that was a stupid question. I’m going out on a limb here and guessing you left home to join the military, then faked your own death, changed your face and name, and came back a new man. That’s why no one’s recognized you even after your trial went viral. The last time they’d have seen you, you’d have been a teenager. Doesn’t matter if your family’s still alive; they’d have no way of recognizing you. The tip line turned up bupkiss, given your reputation. No one in your assassin’s guild is gonna give you up either since they know it’s a death sentence if they do. If you’ve taken any government contracts, they’re not gonna talk either to avoid implicating themselves. Given the circles you’ve traveled in, why are you still alive, Winston?”
“‘Cause I didn’t talk and I didn’t cut a deal,” he grunted. “If I’d have done either, oh, yeah, trust me, I’d be worm food right now. Great thing about having a reputation for going on a few decades is that if other killers and their handlers know you don’t talk, then there’s no need to waste resources trying to shut you up.”
Faye narrowed her eyes. “So you’re telling me no one’s tried anything with you since you’ve been caught?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Let me guess: the mob guys in Boston that you pissed off when you killed that driver?”
“Bingo. But their guys are sloppy. Too used to using brute force. They’re pretty easy to stop, comparatively speaking.”
Faye jumped slightly as she heard the guard knock on the door to give her a warning that her visitation had ended.
Winston smiled. “Time’s up, blondie. Gotta say, it was fun while it lasted. You’re something else. Watch your back.”
Faye smiled in return. “You’re a monster. You deserve to rot in a jail cell and I’m glad that I’m the one who put you in it. Just like I said I would.”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes glittering with strange and troublesome things. “Just like you said you would.”
Faye stood and pushed in her seat before dusting off her gorgeous dress. “Goodbye, Frank.”
“Goodbye, blondie.”
She left without looking back.
–
Find out the conclusion to the cat and mouse game between Faye, Winston, and Stella in Of Claws and Inferno.
It’s time for our first look at the fifth book in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Claws and Inferno! Below the synopsis is a sneak peek at the action. Enjoy!
In a modern day world teeming with marauding dragons, there is only one solution: The Wild Hunt.
Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson and Dr. Kamala Anjali have worked for the Knight Division capturing wild dragons for years, but now the government has decided to hold a tournament called The Wild Hunt. Jack, Kamala, and their teammates Calloway, Libby, Agent Shannon, and Yousef, must capture five of the deadliest dragons alive before the opposing team or they lose their jobs at the Knight Division. Jack and Kamala are also chasing after Kazuma Okegawa, the yakuza lieutenant who has been trying to kill them. Okegawa is planning a hostile takeover of the worldwide illegal dragon trade and if he succeeds, everyone will be in grave danger. Between the Wild Hunt and Okegawa’s plot to destroy everything in his path, Jack and Kamala have to rely on each other to stay alive in the middle of an inferno.
Of Claws and Inferno is the fifth book in the Of Cinder and Bone science fiction/contemporary fantasy series. It follows Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, Of Dawn and Embers, and Of Fury and Fangs.
–
CHAPTER ONE
THE MAD HARVESTERS
The abyss gazed back.
That was what Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson, MIT scientist and Knight Division dragon hunter, had learned over the last year.
Jack wiped the sweat from his brow, brushing his dark brown hair away from his sticky forehead, and then concentrated on the high-powered binoculars in his hands again. He winced as a bit of reflection off the water seared his retinas for a brief moment and then did another careful sweep of the area before him. Nothing yet.
He sat back on his haunches and popped open his canteen of cold water, the ice cubes inside it rattling around as he took a sip. He set it down beside him and then checked the digital screen built into the forearm of his gunmetal grey armored suit. The screen showed him numerous dots indicating the massive flock of flamingos several yards away, feasting on the spirulina algae that made Lake Natron its unique reddish-orange color. He adjusted the dragon tracker to expand the area and studied it. Still no sign of their mystery guest who had been gobbling up flamingo eggs and leaving behind torn up bird corpses as of the last two weeks. However, the lake’s natives had been kind enough to give him detailed information about the sightings of the unidentified dragon interfering with the local ecosystem. They’d said it usually fed around this time, so he just needed to be patient. Which, unfortunately, wasn’t exactly Jack’s strong suit, but the more retrieval missions he went on, the more he learned to be patient.
Besides, he had a two-year-old daughter back home. Parenting a two-year-old meant he’d had to acquire oodles of patience lately.
“How’s it coming, boss?” a male voice said through the link in his ear.
“Somehow both boring and weird?” Jack said. “I’m not sure how that works.”
“Life’s funnier that way,” Yousef al-Badri mused. “I take it our party guest is being shy, then?”
“I can’t imagine he or she can smell me, not with what’s going on in the lake. Maybe they just want me to get a tan.”
“You are pretty pale sometimes, cowboy.”
Jack pretended to scowl and deepened his voice into indignation. “That’s racist.”
Yousef laughed. “My bad. I need work sensitivity training.”
“Clearly.” Jack’s forearm beeped. “Oh, wait a sec. We might be on.”
He picked up the binoculars again and focused on the muddy bank roughly forty yards out where he spotted several nests clustered together. A few of the pink birds had nestled on top to nap in the afternoon sun, but some had been left bare as the flamingoes had gone into the caustic waters to feed. The beeping had indicated that the dragon tracker picked up on a reading consistent with a dragon. He swept the area twice and didn’t confirm a visual, frowning as he glanced down at the screen again to see a blob quite a bit larger than the dots that represented the flamingos. “I don’t know if I should have Faye take a look at my equipment or if I’m going blind. No visual, but I’m getting a reading on the tracker.”
“You sure the sun hasn’t cooked your brains?”
“Not yet, I don’t think.” Jack rubbed his sinuses, then his eyes, and checked the area again.
And this time, he spotted something unusual.
Lake Natron resided in northern Tanzania near an active volcano known as Ol Doinyo Lengai. It was part of the reason the lake had such unique characteristics. The mud had a curious dark grey color over where he’d been set up for observation, and he noted that there was now an odd-looking mound of it to the right of one of the flamingo’s nests. He zoomed in further and further, peering at it, and then realized what he was actually seeing.
The dragon had crouched down beside the nests and blended into the mud. From snout to tail, Jack calculated it had to be twelve to fourteen feet long. Its wings were folded against its back, which had small spines running down the length to a spiky tail. It had a fin with three prongs along the base of the skull and webbed feet tipped with sharp black talons. He estimated the dragon was about the size of a large hyena. It peered up at its prey with beady red eyes, its black forked tongue darting out every few seconds. Its shoulder muscles bunched and its hind legs tensed.
Then it pounced.
The dark grey dragon leapt onto one of flamingoes atop its nest and seized it by the throat. The bird squawked in distress and immediately beat its wings, trying to free itself. The others around them took to the skies in panic. The dragon slammed it into the mud and closed its jaws around the animal’s throat, blood spilling everywhere. The flamingo yelped out its last breaths and then finally stilled. The dragon dropped the limp carcass and sniffed the eggs before beginning to swallow them whole one at a time.
“Holy shit,” Jack muttered.
“Have we got a visual?”
“Oh, yeah. Based on the size, the natives and the conservationists were right to be concerned. It can probably wipe out a serious number of wildlife in a short amount of time based on what I’m seeing. There’s only a handful of fauna that can survive in these conditions and it could make mincemeat out of them.”
“Alright, so what’s the plan?”
“They told me it’s very agile, which is why their attempts to capture it haven’t worked. I’m going to see if it responds to any of the usual stimuli. So far, they said it doesn’t appear to be aggressive.”
“Copy that. Be careful, cowboy.”
“Ten-four.” Jack glanced down at his utility belt and opened the pocket on his left side, withdrawing a thin silver whistle. He put it to his lips and blew for several seconds. Much like a dog whistle, Jack couldn’t hear anything.
But the dragon’s head creaked around and those beady red eyes locked onto him.
Jack lowered the whistle and licked his dry lips. “If I were in a movie, this would be the part where I said, ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’”
The dragon roared, its grey wings extending out from its body, and then flew straight at him.
“Shit!” Jack leapt to his feet and slid down the muddy hill in a hurry. At the bottom of the hill, there was a miniature camp with his supplies and weaponry awaiting him. He scooped up the net launcher—an over-the-shoulder device similar in size and build to a grenade launcher—and then his helmet. He slapped on the helmet and hailed Yousef as he sprinted towards the shallow outskirts of the lake. “We’re on, Yousef! Fire up the engines!”
“I’m on it, cowboy.”
As he ran, a shadow swept across his 6’2’’ form. Jack ducked and the dragon flew over his head, missing with its sharp talons by mere inches. The dragon wheeled around in mid-air and swiped at him again. Jack threw himself into a roll. The dragon missed a second time. Jack knelt in the shallow, muddy water and peered through the net launcher’s scope, sighting down the barrel for a shot. “Non-aggressive, my ass.”
He fired. The diamond wire net shot from out of the barrel end and opened as it flew through the air towards the dragon. It flapped its wings once, hard, and the net missed it by a few inches. Jack cursed under his breath and slid it around on its strap to his back as the dragon dove at him again. He waited until the last possible second, then rolled to one side. The dragon hadn’t compensated for flying that low and lost its trajectory. It splashed into the shallow, salty waters and rolled a few feet away, hissing in annoyance. The reptile struggled onto its feet and faced him again, shaking the water off its scales as it crept forward.
“Alright, so we know you don’t like the whistle,” Jack said, keeping an eye on the agitated dragon as he hit a few things on his armor’s display. “Let’s see if maybe we need to change the tunes.”
Once more, the dragon’s muscular shoulders bunched in attack position and its hind legs tensed to propel it forward at him.
Until Kitty Kallen’s soothing voice filled the air.
The dragon’s hissing lowered in volume. Instead of pouncing, it remained in the same spot of shallow water, now focused on the sound of “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” playing from the speakers in Jack’s forearm. To the average person, it wouldn’t sound like anything more than a great song from 1945. However, to a dragon, there were subtle notes that the Knight Division had picked up that seemed to sooth the powerful creatures into a far less aggressive state.
“That’s it,” Jack said. “I’m not here to hurt you. Take it easy.”
As the song continued playing, Jack eased closer to the creature. It eyed him, snorting uneasily, but remained standing still. He cautiously held out a hand and the dragon barked at him, displeased. He rethought the gesture and instead checked the water where they stood, which was up to his ankles. He spotted one of the only fish who could survive in Lake Natron’s waters—the alkaline tilapia—and managed to snatch one up. He held the wriggling fish out to the dragon. It continued watching him warily, but snapped up the fish when he offered it. The dragon swallowed the fish whole.
Jack held his hands out in supplication. “We good?”
The dragon continued eying him.
Then it tackled him right off his feet.
Jack landed in the shallow water with a pained groan, winded, his shoulders pinned by the dragon’s legs. “I guess that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?”
He unholstered his tranquilizer gun, but to his surprise, the dragon didn’t try to bite or scratch him. Rather, it peered down at his helmet as if simply curious, the tip of its tongue lightly touching the visor. Jack decided to follow his instincts and kept perfectly still beneath the reptile. After a moment, the dragon folded its wings, indicating a change in mood from aggression to docility.
“Talk to me, Jack,” Yousef said.
“I think we’ve reached an understanding,” he said, though strained. “The frequency seems to be working. I’m up close and personal. Looks to be a female, so we need to sweep the area for a nest in case she’s already migrated and laid hers.”
“Got it. Do you have a clear shot?”
“Not sure. Scales appear to be incredibly thick. I’ll try to find a soft spot.”
“Alright, I’m inbound for pick up. Be careful.”
Jack cleared his throat. “No offense, madam, but I’ve got two girlfriends who are very jealous women. You wanna get off the goods now?”
He reached up to push the dragon off of him, but it hissed and shoved down on his shoulders again to keep him flat. The salt deposits in the water dug into his back painfully. He could hear the distant sound of the rotors on Yousef’s helicopter as it approached. In general, dragons didn’t like any flying vehicles. He didn’t want to scare her off, so he’d have to gamble on what he knew about dragons around her size.
Jack drew his penlight from another pocket of the utility belt and set it to strobe. The dragon focused on the flashing light and sniffed at it curiously. Carefully, Jack angled the barrel of the tranq gun at the creature’s belly, which had white scales from its chest to its hindquarters. He could see spaces in between the scales where its flesh would be and took a deep breath, praying before he pulled the trigger.
The dart hit a spot below the dragon’s sternum. The prick of the needle made the dragon roar and snap at his head. Jack dodged and brought up his right forearm to block the next bite. The dragon worried him like a dog with a bone, trying to chomp through the armor, and he fired a second dart near the first one. The dragon still didn’t drop, so he shoved a foot against its midsection to get from under it. He struggled onto his knees as the dragon’s jaws closed even harder over his arm, trying to keep him from getting loose.
“Okay, now you’re just being a bitch!” Jack rolled and then jerked his arm hard in the opposite direction. His arm yanked free and he reached for the net launcher on his back as the dragon charged him again. He fired just as it reached an arm’s length away. Too late, the dragon tried to launch itself into the air. The net wrapped around its upper torso and pinned its wings to its sides. It flopped into the shallow water with a yelp a scant foot from Jack’s legs.
He heaved a sigh of relief. “Jesus Christ. No wonder you’ve been giving the locals so much trouble, girlie.”
Jack withdrew a nylon band from his belt and carefully straddled the wriggling creature, slipping it onto her jaws once he’d pinned them closed. He tied her hind legs with a tether and then carefully hauled her back onto the muddy banks of the lake just as he spotted Yousef’s helicopter on its way over. As it approached, the dragon’s movements slowed. He checked her pulse and it was steady. Depending on the dragon, the sedatives in the tranquilizer gun didn’t always take effect immediately. He’d have to consult with Libby about the animal’s initial resistance.
Yousef landed the helicopter in the shallow end of the lake. He was a tall, broad-shouldered guy with a bright smile and a goatee, dressed in a Kevlar vest, black t-shirt, and cargo shorts. He helped Jack load the unconscious dragon inside. A cage with shatterproof glass, air holes, and food and water awaited her. They shut her safely inside and then swept the area for signs of a nest. After half an hour’s search, they found her nest away from where the flamingos collected, closer towards the volcano. Like many reptiles, it had buried the eggs most of the way. They were oval-shaped and had a faint greyish tone, about the size of an alligator’s eggs. Jack and Yousef collected them all and put them safely inside a basket to be transported back with their mother.
Once they finished loading them up, they called in the capture to the Knight Division headquarters.
“We’ve got our troublemaker in custody,” Jack said as he snapped photos on his cell phone. “I’m sending over proof as we speak. We’ve got twenty eggs we’re bringing with her too.”
“Good work,” Agent John Shannon’s gravelly voice said without much inflection.
“What, did I catch you before coffee, old man?” Jack snorted. “You sound like that stick up your ass got even bigger while I’ve been gone.”
“You don’t know the half of it, smartass,” Shannon said.
Jack frowned. “Wait, I was just trying to annoy you. What’s up?”
Shannon sighed. “You’ll find out when you get here. I need you back on the first thing smoking. We’ve got trouble.”
Jack and Yousef met eyes, both men worried. “How bad?”
“I’m not a fan of irony, fellas, but the Knight Division might be going extinct.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Excited yet? Of Claws and Inferno is available for pre-order for a special release price of only .99 cents. The price WILL increase to $4.99 on April 23rd, so grab a copy now. Don’t forget to add it to your Goodreads To Be Read shelves as well! You can also enter to win a $10 Amazon gift card.
In a modern day world teeming with marauding dragons, there is only one solution: The Wild Hunt.
Dr. Rhett “Jack” Jackson and Dr. Kamala Anjali have worked for the Knight Division capturing wild dragons for years, but now the government has decided to hold a tournament called The Wild Hunt. Jack, Kamala, and their teammates Calloway, Libby, Agent Shannon, and Yousef, must capture five of the deadliest dragons alive before the opposing team or they lose their jobs at the Knight Division. Jack and Kamala are also chasing after Kazuma Okegawa, the yakuza lieutenant who has been trying to kill them. Okegawa is planning a hostile takeover of the worldwide illegal dragon trade and if he succeeds, everyone will be in grave danger. Between the Wild Hunt and Okegawa’s plot to destroy everything in his path, Jack and Kamala have to rely on each other to stay alive in the middle of an inferno.
Of Claws and Inferno is the fifth book in the Of Cinder and Bone science fiction/contemporary fantasy series. It follows Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, Of Dawn and Embers, and Of Fury and Fangs.
We have just one month to go before the fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, hits bookshelves! Here’s the final excerpt. As always, spoilers ahead.
–
Several pounding knocks on the door to her suite awoke Dr. Kamala Anjali from slumber.
The 5’4” scientist groaned into her pillow, but lurched from her bed and shuffled across the carpet to open the door. When she did, she was met with an attractive black man in his thirties. He had a goatee and wore a gun-metal grey Kevlar suit with a helmet tucked under one arm, and he was beaming down at her with excitement.
“We’ve got a live one, doc,” Bruce Calloway told her. “Get dressed.”
Kamala sighed. “Now? I only finished my last analysis four hours ago, Calloway. I’ve just barely gotten any sleep.”
“Oh, I know how to put the pep back in your step.” He leaned in slightly. “It’s a mimic dragon.”
Kamala’s honey-brown eyes widened. “What?”
“Yep. Someone called it in about fifteen minutes ago and dispatch sent word just now.”
“Have any of the hunters caught word of it yet?”
“No. We’re first on the case.”
“I’ll be ready in five,” she promised, and then shut the door. She scurried over to her closet and ripped off her boyfriend’s oversized MIT t-shirt and shimmied out of her shorts in favor of grabbing an armored suit nearly identical to the one Calloway wore. However, hers was much smaller and tailored to fit her curvy frame. She zipped it up and checked that the pouches on her utility belt were all snapped shut before slipping her phone into one, snatching up her helmet, and rushing out the door.
“Where?” she asked Calloway as they hurried down the hallway of the barracks towards the hangar.
“Farm on the city outskirts,” he said, punching in some coordinates in the digital interface built into the forearm of his suit. Kamala’s suit beeped and then she brought up the information he’d transmitted. “Guy went to go check on his herd when he heard an uproar and found the mimic dragon inside munching on a calf. Scared him half to death, so he called it in and holed himself up in the house with a shotgun just in case.”
“Good man,” she said. “I’m glad some of the civilians aren’t trying to go after them on their own. I can’t believe it’s a mimic dragon. They’ve never been seen in North America before.”
“Exactly,” Calloway said as he hit the button for the elevator. “Civvie said that he didn’t want to open fire and cause a stampede, and that after he calmed the cattle, he couldn’t find it again.”
“Incredible,” Kamala said. “Aren’t they the size of a large dog?”
“Or bigger, from what the history books say,” he agreed. “So the chameleon thing must be real. But it begs the question where those clowns even found the DNA to replicate it. Like the arctic dragons, mimics are incredibly rare with less than a hundred ever sighted in the wild before the worldwide extinction.”
“If we get one thing right in this endless mission, I hope we find out just how the Apophis Society is gaining access to those DNA samples,” Kamala growled, watching the numbers on the elevator click up to the launch pad level. “They are insanely well connected. We’ve been keeping tabs on nearly every source of dragon DNA on the planet and yet we’re always one step behind. Did you hear the rumor that some remains of an intact diablo dragon went mysteriously missing?”
“Yeah,” Calloway sighed. “Them’s the breaks. Especially when your evil global organization has access to pretty much all the money you’d ever need to fund your illegal cloning operation. I just pray they haven’t had a successful trial. The diablo dragon’s the second deadliest species on Earth and we’ve already got out work cut out for us.”
The elevators opened onto the roof of an enormous hangar. It was the wee hours, so there was only one helicopter on a designated pad with its console lit up. Spotlights bounced off its polished steel and illuminated the white emblem on the side that depicted a heater shield with the initials K.D. upon it.
Calloway and Kamala climbed inside to find the pilot waiting. He was tall, olive-skinned, and mid-thirties with a thick beard and a winsome smile he aimed at his teammates as they boarded.
Calloway gave him a grin and a fist-bump. “Yousef, my man. Who did they drag you out from under to come fly us out?”
The pilot laughed. “Shit, they offered me time-and-a-half so I told her I’d buy her breakfast when I got back.”
Calloway shook his head. “Incorrigible. Got your coordinates already?”
“Hell yeah. Let’s kick the tires and light the fires, kiddies.”
Calloway and Kamala strapped in while Yousef did the pre-flight check and made sure their gear had already been loaded as well, and then the helicopter took off into the night sky.
“When’s the last time you checked the feed for any hunters in the area?” Kamala asked over the roar of the helicopter rotors.
“About fifteen minutes ago,” Calloway said. “It’s quiet so far, but we both know that doesn’t mean shit since any pissant can give it a go these days.”
“Tell me about it. I will never understand why they endanger themselves for money and the pretense of fame.”
“That’s because you’re a grownup, doc,” Calloway snorted. “Most of these ‘hunters’ are kids. Either adrenaline junkies or rich little Youtubers trying to increase their follower count. Until we get the legislation in place, it’s a damned free-for-all.”
“As if our job isn’t hard enough. You’d think the death toll would dissuade them by now.”
Calloway shrugged a shoulder. “Get rich or die trying. Emphasis on the die part.”
Kamala shook her head. “Every morning, I pray that this world returns to some form of sanity before my daughter is old enough to have to participate in society.”
Calloway gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Who are you kidding, doc? The world was never sane to begin with.”
She gave him a regretful smile in return. “Touché.”
The ride wasn’t terribly long–just under fifteen minutes, and mid-April meant a cool night in the Midwest. They came up on a mid-sized farm with plenty of open acres, its grass and forests already green from the beginning of spring. Yousef found a flat stretch in the field to touch down and they climbed out. Calloway strapped a net launcher across his back and Kamala activated her dragon tracker as they approached the barn.
“Shit,” she muttered as she examined the interface. “The interference with the cattle is pretty bad. It’s throwing off the readings. Plus, they’re almost in a frenzy. We’ve got to get it out of there before they all go berserk.”
“Roger that,” Calloway said as he tugged his helmet on and slid the launcher around to his hands. “What are you thinking?”
“Strobe lights,” she said. “The noise of the cattle is too loud to try an audible distraction, but it’s probably dark in there and it’ll be attracted to light. I’ll be the bait. Just be ready.”
“Yes ma’am.” He offered his fist. She bumped it and then took a deep breath before continuing forward on her own.
The farmer had left the barn’s side door unlocked for them, so Kamala carefully pushed it open to reveal the large space with its dirt floors and iron bars where the cows were corralled daily to be kept at night. By now, she’d gotten used to the stench of the livestock; after all, the smell pervaded the air for miles and she’d gotten a whiff as soon as they left the helicopter.
The cows shifted and mooed in protest with nervous energy, their eyes glowing from the few spotlights in the ceiling. It was almost completely dark inside and the constant shifting of the frightened cattle made it difficult to concentrate, but she managed as she shut the door behind her.
The iron bars that held the animals were securely posted in the ground, but she knew if all the animals panicked at once, they could trample them or bend them out of shape. She walked forward slowly with a small, military-grade flashlight in one hand and her tranquilizer gun in the other. She had hoped the cattle had grouped together in one spot to avoid the predator, but they were scattered throughout the enclosure and seemed just as confused as she was of its whereabouts. The stench of gore and spilled guts reached her and she glanced to her right to see the corpse of the calf the dragon had already devoured. Most of its internal organs were gone, leaving a pool of blood and torn fur behind. She suppressed a shudder and slid into the pen to examine the area.
She checked the claw marks in the dirt and glanced up to see that one of the skylights had been shattered. The dragon had dropped down from above much like an eagle scooping up prey and had killed the calf on the spot. The cattle had run to the other side of the pen to avoid being mauled as well, and currently were bumping into each other to stay away from the fresh kill. She spotted a trail of blood leading away from the corpse and squinted at the cattle. A few of them had scratch marks on their pelts. The dragon had likely gotten spooked by them, or by the farmer when he entered the barn to check on the noise, and would have attacked in self-defense.
Kamala lifted her flashlight to the walls of the barn, going slowly, and checking it against the dragon tracker built into her suit. She didn’t see anything on the ceiling or on the walls. There was a chance it had left the barn again, but her gut told her otherwise. She continued towards the cattle and checked among them for anything unusual, but she didn’t spot the dragon trying to hide among their ranks. With a frustrated sigh, she turned to head back to the door.
Then, her tracker beeped.
There, not three feet from the shredded calf, lay what she had thought was a pile of hay and dirt. The heads-up display in her helmet switched to a different field of vision to reveal that it had been the mimic dragon in camouflage the entire time.
Kamala froze and swallowed hard. “Maa ki aankh.”
And just as she recognized it, the dragon opened one grey eye and stared directly at her.
“Calloway,” she whispered. “I’ve spotted it.”
“Atta girl,” he said over the comm-link. “Are you coming out of the side door or do you think it’s going to make a break for it out of the skylight?”
“Not sure,” she replied. “No scarring. Based on its lack of aggression, it may never have interacted with anyone since it was cloned. We know there are different sites out there, not just the ones planted by the yakuza and the Apophis Society. Did the farmer say it tried to attack him?”
“No. It gave him a warning, but he’s not hurt at all.”
“Then there is a good chance that it will simply be attracted to the light instead of attacking. I’ll try and get it to come out of the side door.”
“Ten-four, doc.”
Kamala muttered a quick protection prayer before she switched the flashlight from a constant beam to a strobe setting.
The mimic dragon opened both eyes, and its scales changed from the dark brown and light-yellow imitating the dirt and hay to a light green with mottled dark green patterns along its back and down its tail. It was roughly the size of a North American wolf, just as she’d suspected; big enough to be dangerous, but not impossible to catch if one had the know-how. The dragon unfurled from a ball and shook out its wings, staring intently at the flashing light. Calf blood dripped from its fangs and dribbled down its mandible as it walked towards Kamala, its nostrils flaring as it took in her scent.
Behind them, the cattle mooed loudly in fright, and the walls of the barn shook as they tried to pack themselves against the far side. Kamala eased out of the pen and took slow steps backwards. The dragon followed her as if hypnotized. “We’re coming out now, Calloway.”
She pushed the door open with her heel and walked through it backwards, her gaze never leaving the creature as it trailed after her. She needed just a few more feet to give Calloway a clear shot and then they’d be home-free.
Just then, a strange buzzing noise sounded overhead.
Frowning, Kamala glanced up to see a drone appear from over top of the barn. “What the hell?”
Before she could move an inch, the drone shot a blast of glow-in-the-dark ink at the mimic dragon. The reptile snarled and shook out its wings, then leapt into the air after it. The drone flitted away into the night sky like a bat out of hell.
“Shit!” Kamala snarled. “Someone else is out here.”
Calloway swore. “It’s probably leading the dragon to whoever owns that damn droid. Come on!”
They booked it through the field after the fleeing drone and the angry dragon, heading towards a line of trees near the border of the property. Kamala pulled a silver whistle from her utility belt and slid up the visor of her helmet, bringing it to her lips. She blew hard.
The mimic dragon swerved mid-flight and circled around, flying towards them instead with a roar of annoyance.
Calloway skidded to a halt and planted his feet, aiming.
“Down in three…two…one!”
He shot the net launcher. The diamond-wire net deployed, but the dragon spun nimbly out of its path and ploughed right into him at top speed. Calloway and the dragon tumbled backwards in the tall weeds in a heap. The dragon dragged the launcher from his grip and slung it several feet away from him. It turned to one side as Calloway sprang to his feet and cracked its tail at his midsection. Calloway brought up a forearm and blocked the blow before grabbing the dragon’s appendage and latching on. The creature wriggled and snapped its head around towards him, much like a captured gator, but he turned counterclockwise out of the path of its jaws.
Snarling, the reptile’s throat bulged and then it spat a fat glob of venom at his head.
“Shit!” Calloway ducked just in time and heard the weeds behind him sizzling as the acidic substance ate straight through them. “Aren’t you just a charmer?”
“Hang on!” Kamala called as she hurried over, but as she did, the drone zipped past her, missing her by mere inches. Bright flashes lit up the clearing as the drone’s camera snapped photos of the beast. The dragon thrashed angrily and lobbed a mouthful of venom at the drone instead, but it veered to one side and kept taking pictures.
The dragon snapped at Kamala’s heels as she scampered past it and dive-rolled in the tall grass. She snatched up the net launcher when she came up on one knee and shouted, “Calloway, down!”
The other dragon hunter released the dragon’s tail and jumped back just in time. A second net shot out and engulfed the dragon. It yelped and fell in a tangled bundle to the grass.
“It’s alright,” Kamala said soothingly, rolling it onto its belly. “Easy, easy, now.”
She retrieved her tranquilizer gun and measured the dosage carefully before injecting the dragon in a soft spot beneath its jaw. The creature’s wriggling slowed, and then stopped altogether. She checked its pulse and sighed in relief that it was stable.
Then she stood, reached for her flare gun, and shot the hovering drone right out of the sky.
It exploded in a shower of sparks and fell to the ground in a mass of broken metal and glass. She stalked over to it and dug out the camera attached, which still had a little red light indicating that it was recording.
“Whoever this is,” Kamala said, seething. “Do not ever try this again. You are not a dragon hunter. You are a reckless, ridiculous child seeking attention and you nearly endangered my life, my colleague’s life, and the life of this dragon. Cease this madness immediately or we will come after you with the full force of the Knight Division and the U.S. government.”
With that, she threw the camera to the ground and stomped it to cut the feed.
“Well,” Calloway said mildly. “That’s one way to make an impression.”
“I tire of these fools,” Kamala growled as she swept off her helmet and dusted the dirt away. “How many more innocents will die while they play these games?”
“I’m sure a few centuries ago, some folks just like us were asking the same questions,” he said solemnly as he signaled Yousef to fly over to them. “Ain’t nothin’ new under the sun, Kam.”
He nudged her shoulder with his own as he removed his helmet and gave her a reassuring smile. “But we’re still making a difference one dragon at a time.”
“We are, but will it ever be enough to change the tide?”
“Guess we’ll find out together. Good work, doc.”
She smiled back at him. “Good work, Calloway.”
Just then, her cell phone buzzed from inside one of the belt’s pouches. Confused, she withdrew it to find her boyfriend calling. Strange, she thought. It was nearly two a.m. in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
“Jack? Honey, what are you doing up so late?”
She heard him exhale shakily into the phone. “I know, baby. There’s…there’s been an accident at the house.”
Kamala’s blood turned to ice in her veins. “Oh God, Jack, are you okay? Is it Naila?”
“She’s fine. We’re both fine, but…I need you to come home. It’s a mess. Everything’s a fucking mess and I need you here.”
“I’ll be there as fast as I can. I swear it.”
“Thanks, angel,” he sighed. “Call me when you land.”
We’re just two months away from the launch of Book Four in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs! Time for another excerpt!
Spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.
–
Jack ran a hand through his windswept hair. “Alright. I can set off Thornton’s car alarm. That should draw him and his buddy outside and you can slip in to see if you can film the dragons. Then we split.”
Kamala blew out a long breath to ready herself. “Be careful, my darling.”
He kissed her. “You too.”
Jack crept back the way he came along the wall and around the corner, waiting by the door. He heard the squeal of one of the metal doors to the container opening. “That’s my cue.”
He hunted along the shipping yard until he found a sizeable slab of rock and slipped to the other end of the warehouse. Then he hefted it and chucked it at the hood of Thornton’s Jeep.
The car alarm immediately let out a panicked squawk.
Roughly ten seconds later, Thornton and Joe spilled out of the warehouse, bewildered by the ruckus. Jack hustled around the rear of the building as the men hurried over to the vehicle. Thornton cursed up a storm as he surveyed the dented green hood and spun around, searching for the culprit.
While they were distracted, Kamala slipped inside the open door to the warehouse, staying low, and quickly crept towards the red shipping container with its massive door ajar. Its contents made her stop in her tracks.
There were four large iron cages inside, but two of them were empty. The other two housed a dragon each; the creatures bound in manacles with their jaws clamped shut in muzzles.
The first dragon was brown and so round and bulky that it could have been mistaken for a Grizzly bear. As a matter of fact, she knew that it had, for it was an urso dragon. Its lurching shape had often been mistaken for a bear from far away in the Alaskan woods and any hunter that shot it would find itself in a heap of trouble, for its scales were so thick that they could repel most common types of weaponry. The dragon could also reach a sprint speed of up to twenty-five miles an hour, at which point it could generate enough energy to flip an SUV with ease. Its wings had been clamped with round bands of metal as well. Its yellow eyes flicked open as it heard her approach and it snorted once before settling into its enclosure again, apparently not feeling threatened by her small stature.
It had two dark brown horns on the crown of its head, but one had been snapped in half, which it would regrow. She didn’t see any marks on its scales, but it made sense. It would be quite a contender in the ring of a dragon fight. She did, however, see smudges of ash along its right side and its legs, so she suspected it was still susceptible to fire.
The second dragon had iridescent scales that refracted the bits of sunlight from the warehouse windows. Its scales glittered as if made of quartz and stuck up in random, sharp spikes from head to toe. Two pinpricks of black looked up at her as she stared at it in wonder. She couldn’t help herself. It was her first time seeing a crystal dragon in the flesh. They were rare cave dwelling creatures famous for hoarding gemstones in diamond mines and other underground caverns. Many adventurers of yore would seek them out, but never return, for crystal dragons were among the most violently territorial of their species. Their scales were as rock hard as their namesake, which was why they were one of the first dragons to go extinct; people would obsessively hunt them for their beautiful hides.
Like the urso dragon, she didn’t see any outward injuries. It was clear the dragon fighting rings had gotten more thoughtful with which species they accepted for fights. It was likely both of them had survived quite a few matches with their unique characteristics.
She made sure to record clear footage of both dragons and snapped a few photos as well before she snuck out of the warehouse’s rear door, where she met Jack. Thornton and Joe had aggressively started to search the grounds, so the two hustled out of the yard back to the Volkswagen.
“What did you find?” Jack asked as he snapped on his seatbelt.
“An urso dragon and a crystal dragon.”
“Holy shit,” Jack gaped. “Seriously?”
She handed him her phone and Jack watched the video clips, whistling. “Incredible. And I thought the Knight Division had been able to crack down on the DNA sources lately.”
“Obviously, some of them have slipped through the cracks. If we’re able to get this back to the precinct in time to seize the dragons, I’m sure they’ll produce plenty of relevant data that we need.”
“Definitely,” Jack said as he started up the Beetle. “I’d love to take a look at—”
He abruptly stared past her head through the passenger window and paled. “Oh, shit.”
A second later, the urso dragon that had been sprinting towards them with its head lowered smashed into the side of the Beetle.
The impact threw the car up on two wheels and smashed its roof into the wall of the electrical shed. Glass exploded on Jack’s side of the car and there was a horrible crunching sound of metal and stone and dragon hide. The engine immediately sputtered out and died as the car lurched back onto all four wheels. The side air bags had deployed upon impact, stunning both Jack and Kamala. Ears ringing, Jack peered through the shattered window to spot the attacking dragon, but it wasn’t there any longer. He heard a snort and a throaty bellow and twisted in his seat to see the dragon behind the car, its head lowered as it prepared to ram them again.
“Shit!” Jack tried the engine once, twice. It coughed and protested, but wouldn’t turn over. He cursed again and tried to unhook his seatbelt, but the impact had jammed it. He grabbed Kamala’s shoulder and shook her hard, rousing her from her dazed state. “Hang on!”
WHAM!
The urso dragon barreled into the back of the Beetle and sent them skidding several feet across the gravel. Jack grabbed the steering wheel and tried to twist the tires to keep them from sliding towards the hill into the warehouse yard, but gravity got the better of them. Kamala tried to free herself from the seatbelt as well, but hers was also jammed. Briefly, they spotted Thornton and Joe near the fence, sneering in triumph.
“Why aren’t they shooting at us?” Kamala asked as she tried to wriggle herself free from the seatbelt.
“No need,” Jack gasped out as he did the same. He watched in the askew rearview mirror as the urso dragon prepared for one more lunge. “The dragon’s gonna push us into the river.”
“Sulemaga!” Kamala spat.
Jack yanked on the seat lever and wriggled his arm towards his pants. “I’m trying to reach my pocketknife. I’ll cut us loose. Then we’ll have maybe a minute or two to climb out before the car sinks too deep and we drown.”
The dragon charged them again. “Head down!” Jack yelled, covering his own just before the creature slammed into the vehicle one last time. The car tumbled down the gravel hill and rolled off the side of the embankment into the Charles River.
The most that I can say is at least we’re still here. I know that these annual posts recap 2019 through the current date, but woof. It’s hard to for me not to talk about the first half of 2020 while discussing the time between now and my sixth year post. And hell, we thought 2019 sucked. We had no idea, did we?
Sadly, thanks to the pandemic, I don’t have a cute pic of me hugging any celebrities. 2019, as mentioned above, was an unkind year to me, same as most people. I did manage to catch up with Charlie Cox and get my Playbill to Harold Pinter’s Betrayal on Broadway signed, but Mr. Hiddleston stood me up this time around and that is a summary of 2019 and 2020 in a nutshell: me, standing outside in the freezing cold, staring at a door that won’t open, my dreams held within it. Melodramatic, but true.
Well, you’re not here for my open wounds, you’re here for what semblance of advice that I can give you, so let’s get to it, shall we? Here’s what I’ve learned in my seventh year of being published.
Expect the unexpected. I know it’s impossible, but there is a lesson to be learned here for 2020 throwing everything at us but the kitchen sink. You can’t prepare for everything, but you can learn how to adapt to an unprecedented situation. No one thought we’d end up where we are now, but in spite of that, those of us who have survived are still here and doing our best to stay afloat. No one ever wants to find out what they’re made of in a worldwide plague scenario, but it’s here and so we’ve all had to tighten our belts, toughen up, and support each other as best as we can.
This sentiment is to remind yourself to appreciate what’s in front of you, for you have no idea what’s coming. All you can do is try to build a foundation that will remain standing when the world winds up a brick and hurls it at you. You have to keep an open mind and be ready for change. Sometimes it’s voluntary change and other times it isn’t. Identify the best way to proceed and set a new course. It’s alright to mourn the things you lost along the way, but nothing kills you faster than refusing to let go. Trust me, I know that from personal experience.
Try to work by your own standards. This past year, someone started a hashtag on Twitter that was about how much published authors make and it was extremely eye-opening for many people, both those in the industry and those outside of it. Truth be told, the publishing world does not like to accurately portray itself to the rest of the world. That hashtag revealed that a lot of us are just tiny fish in the pond, desperately searching for breadcrumbs. There are far more of us who grind out books and cannot support ourselves on writing full time than the reverse, but that’s not what the publishing world wants you to think. They want the world to see us as Stephen King’s, thinking we make money hand over fist.
It’s tough to find the motivation to spend hours writing if your sales suck. That’s the hard truth of the matter. Many of us are busting our asses to make good fiction and still see little to no results. The other truth of the matter is that we’re holding ourselves to an unfair standard. We see these big names raking in the dough and try to match their sales when it’s not realistic. Sure, it would be wonderful if everyone sold millions of copies and secured movie deals with creative control, but it’s not going to happen for a majority of the writing world, both traditional and independent/self-published. That’s the cold, hard facts.
So now what do we do?
Find your spot and plant your feet.
It’s okay if you’re not making thousands of dollars a month off of your fiction. It’s wonderful if you are, but the numbers say that most of us aren’t that fortunate. Instead, focus on what you ARE able to accomplish instead. Break your goals down into something more achievable and take it a day at a time. Often what prevents us from writing or being productive is that impossible standard hovering over our heads and you have to kick it to the curb. Find goals that satisfy you and do your best to meet them as often as possible. At the end of the day, your opinion of yourself and your work is the most important, not that of everyone else’s. They aren’t in your situation, so it’s fruitless to wring your hands trying to emulate them.
Change is scary, but sometimes unavoidable. Some of you may already know, but I originally finished the first draft of my upcoming fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, in early 2020.
And I hated it.
Really. I’ve never hated anything I’ve written before. It was a strange feeling for me to pick it up and slam it back down, sure that it was the worst trash to disgrace the face of the Earth.
I took some time off. I worked on my mental health and managed to get a handle on the fear and anxiety, and then consulted my writing sensei with my problem. He was thankfully able to help me reaffirm what was wrong with the book and helped me develop a strategy to fix it.
And again, that had never happened to me before.
Sure, I’ve hit walls. I’ve had long periods of not writing. But I’ve never written what I felt was a bad story, or rather, written a good story incorrectly. This time, oh yeah, I totally did. I think that the stress of the 2019 to 2020 period had gotten to me and so I was pushing myself to write when I didn’t quite have everything together. I was pushing the wrong angle, so I had to regroup and understand what was needed to fix it. At the time of this post, the revisions for the second draft are roughly half done and the book’s pre-order is live, so I’ll have everything ready by the release date.
Still, this was one of the first times I had to admit my own failure and take things back to the drawing board. It’s also a byproduct of this series being so different from The Black Parade series, which for the most part was planned from A to Z. I knew the plots, but all the things in between were genuine surprises. Of Cinder and Bone was much more off the cuff for me. The stories generate themselves out of thin air rather than being so carefully planned. It may be why I was off the mark in the original draft, but thankfully, I wasn’t so off that I had to destroy most of the book; just retool it and save some of the content for later.
What did end up taking me so long was my own stubborn refusal to admit the first draft sucked. Or, rather, to be brave enough to find a way to fix it. I definitely wanted to give up on the book at a few points, but slowly, I regained my confidence and went after it.
Naturally, most experienced writers know this is totally possible and prepare for it, but to any newbies out there, this is a terrifying feeling. It’s okay. Sometimes you just have to get it on the damn pages and then worry about fixing it later, when you have at least a teaspoon of your sanity back.
Reflect carefully and as often as possible. It’s no surprise that with the pandemic, unemployment is as high as it was during the Great Depression and everyone’s miserable, scared, and broke for the most part. As a result, pretty much across the board, everyone’s struggling to make money. My June sales were sadder than Requiem for a Dream. Well, unfortunately, writing is the same as most businesses: you have to spend money to make money. I’ve had to get awful creative in my attempts to promote Of Fury and Fangs without breaking the bank. Keep in mind, just blitzing social media with links and photos doesn’t work. Don’t believe anyone who says it does. You have to do better than that, as the average person’s ability to simply filter out advertisements on the Internet is very developed by now.
While doing so, I happened past some of my older methods of marketing and promoting, using free or low cost options like digging to find sites that let you post for free or writing guest blog posts. While time consuming, it is helpful for the overall SEO for the book in its early stages to spread the word. It’s not all about mailing lists and expensive site postings. There is value in doing the small stuff that can add up over time to get your work out there to people.
Is it a pain in the ass to produce more content like author interviews or guest blog posts? Totally. But it’s just as valid as the other methods as long as it’s allowing your further saturation. It doesn’t matter how you get yourself into a reader’s vision, just that you get there and reach them in a meaningful way.
Be good to yourself and to others as much as you can. This should be a no-brainer, but it ain’t. Especially not for me. I am my own worst enemy. Always have been, always will be. However, therapy has helped me recognize the impulses that I have to treat myself poorly and while I’m still doing it, the awareness means that I have a chance to do better.
The pandemic has made a lot of us realize that many of the things we used to do to decompress or find happiness are no longer possible. That means doing a bit of soul-searching and finding alternative ways to be at peace, or if you’re lucky, happy. It’s unfair and extremely difficult, but it’s worth doing for overall mental health. To that end, many authors have been stressed out thinking that they should be writing some magnum opus during quarantine. That’s simply not true. It’s okay to just get by. You don’t have to become some award winning author and write the next great novel. The most important thing is to keep your head above water, which does not happen if you’re constantly yelling at yourself for not writing. 2020 is ungodly stressful. If you find a way to weather the storm, go with that. It’s great if you can also help others. Give yourself a break.
After all, 2020 sure ain’t gonna do it for you.
Well, that’s all the time I have this time around. Sisyphus has got to get back to pushing her boulder up the mountain. I hope I’ll see you guys back this time next year. For God’s sake, be smart, be careful, and be diligent. Here’s to seven years.
Great news! The pre-order for the fourth novel in the Of Cinder and Bone series, Of Fury and Fangs, is available! In celebration, here’s an exclusive preview for chapter one! Spoilers ahead!
