Haunted By Her Dragon (The Dragon Guard Series)

Haunted By
Her Dragon

Dragon Guard
Series #3

By

Julia Mills

There
Are No Coincidences. The Universe Does Not Make Mistake.

Fate
Will Not Be Denied.

Copyright © 2014 Julia Mills

All Rights Reserved

DISCLAIMER
:
The characters, locations and events portrayed in this book are a work of
fiction or are used factiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead
is coincidental and not intended by the author.

NOTICE:
 
This is an adult erotic paranormal romance with love scenes and mature
situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.

Also
by Julia Mills

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Her
Dragon to Slay, Dragon Series #1

Her
Dragon’s Fire, Dragon Series #2

DEDICATION

“Writing is a solitary
experience.” I still don’t understand that statement. For me, it is any but.
Without the help and love of each person here and so many more, I would never
write a word, much less publish a book. Only through their continued support am
I able to do what I love. Thank you to each and every one of you, from the
bottom of my heart.

Thank you, God.

To my girls, Liz and
Em
, I Love You.
Every day, every way,
always.

To Emma Edwards, the
absolute best writing partner in the world. You are BEAUTIFULLY BRILLIANT in
every way. Is it Wine Day yet?

To Charlene Bauer aka
Bold, who has listened to me whine, complain, vent and be more than a little
silly but more importantly, without whom this book would’ve been titled, Dragon
Guard #3 because I couldn’t think of a title to save my hide. You are AWESOME!

To Charlene Cain aka
Cain, for your WORDS and constant support!

To the coolest, most
SPECTACULAR group of beta readers a writer could ever have.

To JD Nelson without
whom the Dragon Guard never would have come to life.

To all the
WONDERFUL authors I am honored to call friends! You are all truly
inspirational! Thank you!

To all my
beautiful
Facebook
friends and family for always
making me laugh and reminding me to never take myself too seriously.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I only write the books,
these amazing people make them presentable in every sense of the word. Thank
you from the bottom of my heart to each and every one of you.

~Linda Boulanger with
Tell-Tale Book Covers, you are TRULY TALENTED. Your art brings my work to life.
I am honored.

~Lisa Miller with Angel
Editing Service, thank you for adding the commas, fixing all my crazy spellings
and making me sound like I know what I’m doing. You ROCK.

~My Beautiful Beta
Readers, Tonya Allen, Heather Andrews, Cindy Barton, Faith Bates, Charlene
Bauer, Karen Branch, Charlene Cain, Bonnie
Dahl-
Rediske
, Rosemary Hendry, Laurie Johnson, Kelly
Kaese
, Tiffany
Lagrone
, Rebecca
Larsen,
Krissenda
Leigh-Pink, Karen
Mikhael
, Lisa Miller, Elisa O’Bryan, MJ Prater, Anna
Salamatin
,
Jacklynn
Sizemore,
Robin Smith, Carrie The Book Fairy, Bridget Thomas-Parker, Cindy Turner,
Melanie Williams,
Kaycee
.
You are absolutely
AMAZING. I could not do it without each and every one of you.

~Michelle with We Love
Kink Book Tours & Promotions for getting the word out and introducing so
many people to the Dragon Guard.

~Kelli Smith with
Totally Talented Promotions for throwing fabulous release day parties every
time.

Table of contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER
THIRTEEN

EPILOGUE

HER
DRAGON TO SLAY

Index
of the Words of Love of Original the Dragon Kin

Twenty-four hour shifts
were going to be the death of her, especially when they lasted almost thirty.
Of course she had no one to blame but herself. She could have said no when Dr.
Monoghan
asked her to assist with an appendectomy and no
had been on the tip of her tongue. But then she’d caught sight of the messy
blonde curls spilling over the pillow as her mentor pointed towards their
patient, and she
knew
this was one she couldn’t ignore.
Monoghan’s
entire surgical team was male, and very good at
their chosen professions. Unfortunately, they knew how good they were and their
bedside manner sucked. There was no way the little tow-headed sprite she had
heard singing from her room would’ve been able to relax in the presence of the
massive amounts of testosterone they spewed. So she grabbed her thirteenth cup
of coffee of the day, prayed for no complications, and headed in to see her
patient. Nothing could have prepared her for the innocent blue eyes surrounded
by long thick lashes, topping the cutest little chubby cheeks in the world that
looked up at her as she knocked on the half closed door. For a second, she
thought of another pair of azure eyes, eyes that heated her from the inside out
and promised hot sweaty nights spent satiating each other’s needs.

Shaking
her head to clear her thoughts, she walked to the end of the bed and grabbed
the chart. “Hi, Sydney, I’m Dr. Malone. You can call me, Dr. Sam.”

The
sweet girl giggled, “Sam is a boy’s name.”

“You
are right,” she smiled, “Unless it’s a nickname for Samantha.”

Visibly
relaxing for the first time since Sam had entered the room, her patient
answered, “Oh that makes sense. There was a Samantha at my old school, but we
never called her Sam, she wanted to be called Samantha…Samantha Jane.” Sydney
thought for a moment, “Sam sure would’ve been easier.”

“It
sure would’ve been,” she agreed, smiling at the obviously intelligent child
before her. “Did you recently change schools?” She looked towards the woman
sitting in the chair, who continued to mess with her cell phone, basically
ignoring the child in the hospital bed, and Sam thought it was an opportune
time for the adult in the room to speak up. When said ‘adult’ did not even look
up, Sam checked the file, not surprised to find that the woman was a social worker,
not a family member. Sam and Sydney were definitely on their own for this exam,
and she figured that was easier anyway. 

“It
says here that you have a tummy ache.” She pointed to the chart she still held.
“Can you show me exactly where it hurts?”

“Right
here,” Sydney said as she placed her little chubby hands across her midsection
and scrunched up her nose. “But I really just want to go home.”

“Now,
Sydney, you know the doctor in the emergency room said you need an operation,”
the woman from the chair stated in a flat, irritating tone, finally entering
the conversation, but still not glancing up.

The
thought of smacking the woman danced through Sam’s coffee soaked brain. She
wondered if
that
might get some kind of reaction.  Instead of
acting on her thoughts, she turned just in time to see Sydney’s eyes fill with
tears. Before the first one could fall, Sam asked, “Have you ever been in a
hospital before?” As soon as it was out of her mouth, she wished it back.
Dammit
, she knew better! You never asked a ward of
the state if they’ve been in the hospital when you didn’t know the whole story.
What a rookie mistake! One she wouldn’t have made had she not been so
incredibly frustrated with the woman to her right. The next thing she heard
simultaneously broke her heart and filled her with pride.

“Yes,
Dr. Sam, I was in the hospital the day the big truck hit our car,” Sydney
continued in an unwavering tone, simply explaining the facts, all traces of her
previous weakness gone. “Mommy and Daddy went to heaven, and I went to live in
the ‘big house’ with all the other kids. Miss Crutchfield,” Sydney looked over
at the woman and rolled her little eyes, “She’s my social worker. I have no
aunties or uncles, and my nana and pop
pop
are
already in heaven. It’s okay there, but I really wish I could go back to my old
school to see my friends.”

Sam
counted to ten in her head, battling her anger, and returned her focus to her
patient. Sydney was a tough little girl and one smart cookie. The child went on
to tell Sam that the accident had happened about six months ago and that she
was waiting to go live with a foster family. She spoke like a miniature adult,
using all the correct terms and stating the facts of her situation with
detached accuracy while she was examined. The fact that
the child
was
sharing the information and the useless state employee was busy with an
inanimate object, caused Sam’s barely controlled anger to boil again. Why the
hell did people with no interest in caring for children become social workers?
Shouldn’t they at least care about the little people they were responsible for?
She’d seen it happen time after time; the people, who were supposed to help the
‘lost children’, as her foster mom had called them, did not give a
damn
.
They were there for the salary and the benefits that came with a State job, not
the welfare of the children. Her one constant wish was to somehow change the
system she had grown up in after the death of her mom and sister. The only way
she knew change would happen was to work from inside the system, and there were
only two ways to do that; become a politician, or be a foster parent. Politics
would
never
be something she was good at; she didn’t have a politically
correct bone in her body. However, she could see herself as a foster parent,
being a true advocate for children who grew up as she did. Of course, that
would have to wait until she wasn’t working thirty hours a day, six days a
week.