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THE STORY THAT STARTED THE WHOLE DRAGON GUARD SERIES
And my life as the Sassy Southern Storyteller -
HER DRAGON TO SLAY!
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“Dammit, Grace, pick up the phone,” she growled through gritted teeth at the third voicemail she’d had to listen to in the last five minutes.
“Everything okay, Kyndel?’ Barney, theniceguy in her office, asked.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just trying to find Grace.”
“Oh! Anything I can help with?”
Kyndel thought about telling him her troubles, but Barney had been spending an inordinate amount of time in her office lately. At first, she’d thought he was just being nice, but then he joined her hiking group, and just yesterday he showed up with her favorite no whip, nonfat, iced white chocolate mocha from thefrou froucoffee shop on the corner. It had been then Kyndel realized she was Barney’s newest crush. It had been a long time between boyfriends and Barney was nice, but…um…no. As flattered as she was, there was no way she was having an office romance.
‘Don’t shit where you eat’ was one of the pieces of sage advice Granny had given her just after graduation. Not that it ever truly made sense to Kyndel, but she got the gist of it…keep your personal lifeoutof the office.
She saw the puppy dog look on Barney’s face and hated to crush his spirit, but Kyndel decided a brisk walk home would be better than leading the poor fellow on, inanyway.
“No, but thank you so much.” Then, to make sure he got the hint and skedaddled, she added, “Have a nice a weekend,” before turning her chair and dialing Grace’s office for the third time.
Voicemailagain. Time to pack up and get the heck outta dodge before someone found something else for her to do. Bag on shoulder, scowl on face, and more than a little disgusted, Kyndel headed out of the office.
Never loan Grace the car… Never loan Grace the car…was the mantra playing on a loop in Kyndel’s mind. She was madder than a wet hen and getting hotter by the minute. It wasno funto walk home after ten hours of work.No funto be abandoned and forgotten by the best friend she’d loaned her car to.No funto make the five-block journey past the park…in the dark.
At twenty-six, she rarely admitted her fear of the dark and held her aunts responsible for the phobia. Had they not made her watch ‘The Brain Eaters’ when she was only six years old, Kyndel was positive everything would’ve been just fine. It wasn’t that she believed aliens would set loose a horde of parasites to eat every human brain on the planet; she had alittlemore sense than that. It was the feeling of being watched…like someone was hiding in the shadows, just waiting for an opportunity to scare the living daylights out of her. At the mere thought of her ‘phantom stalker’, the hair stood up at the nape of her neck and she walked a bit faster.
A suddenthud,and what sounded like footsteps pounding on the hard ground, had her stopping in her tracks. “What the…?” She gasped, opening her eyes wide, hoping it would help her see through the shadows.
Several tense seconds later—that felt like damn near forever—and Kyndel moved again. This time, her eyes slid side-to-side like the stupid black and white cat clock her granny used to have in the kitchen.
The farther she got from where she’d heard the ‘thump’, the easier it was to convince herself it had just been kids sneaking into the park after hours. Manlove Park was a well-known make out spot for teenagers. There might’ve even been a time after moving to the city when Kyndel herself had been convinced to take a walk on the wild side, but that was a story for another day.
Shoot, now I wouldn’t know the wild side if I tripped and fell in it.
It had been almost a year since she’d dated the muscle-headed jock from the gym. Three long, tortuous dates and all because he had an incredible body. Of course, dating the douche bag had come at a price. She’d spent the entire time listening to him drone on about his body parts…and not the good ones…andonlywhen he wasn’t checking out every other woman in the joint.
It wasn’t that he’d hurt her feelings. Kyndel knew who she was and had never been under the misconception she would be Miss America. She had a few extra pounds and her curves had curves, but she was cute and had a brain, something not everyone could claim. What had pissed her off the most about dating Vinnie was, she’d wasted three whole evenings of her life that she could never get back. The one compliment the jerk had given her had been about her skin; he thought it was beautiful. Her granny always called her complexion peaches and cream and said her freckles added character.
Yeah, cause I need more of that.
She sighed as she thought about how much of her youth she’d wasted hating those tiny brown spots, until the day she realized they weren’t going anywhere. It was time to buck up and learn to love them, or stop looking in the mirror. From that day forward, she stopped using makeup to cover them and embraced her ‘freckled-self’. She also learned to accept her curves. If ya don’t like em, don’t lookat emwas her motto. For the most part, she ate right and worked out at least three times a week. But dammit if she didn’t love her Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia and someone would lose a hand if they tried to take it from her.
A loud‘thud’echoed between the buildings. Kyndel stumbled to a stop. She looked and listened. The longer she thought about what she’d heard, the easier it was for her to convince herself someone had yelled for help. So, for the second time in about as many minutes, she searched the inky shadows for signs of life. Her anxiety level quadrupled the longer she stood still. She wanted to scream when only the sound of leaves rustling across the sidewalk and the occasional car passing by reached her ears.
Disgusted, she grumbled aloud, “You’ve gone bonkers, Kyn.” The sound of her own voice somehow calmed her rankled nerves and she added, “Get to stepping, girlie.”
The clicking of her heels bounced off the brick wall of the library as she hurried past. Resuming her original mantra, she addedMust kill Graceat the end for good measure.
“I swear when I get my hands on…”
Her words were cut short as the unmistakable sound of a man groaning came from the shadows.
