shift happens 03 - no were to run

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Authors: robyn peterman

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal

BOOK: shift happens 03 - no were to run
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Table of Contents

Table of Contents

 

Title Page
Edition License Notes
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Note From the Author
Book Lists (in correct reading order)
Want More Dragons and Witches?
Except: How To Train A Witch
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
About Robyn Peterman

No Were To Run

 

by

 

Robyn Peterman

 

Edition License Notes

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should delete it from your device and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is coincidental.

 

This book contains content that may not be suitable for young readers 17 and under.

 

Copyright 2016 by Robyn Peterman

 

Cover by
Rebecca Poole of dreams2media

 

Edited by
Meg Weglarz

 

Acknowledgements

 

Writing books is the best job I’ve ever had. Sitting in my sweatpants, t-shirt, sparkly Uggs and no make-up totally works for me! However, as solitary as the writing process may be, putting a book out is a group effort. There are many important and wonderful people involved and I am blessed to have such a brilliant support system.

 

Rebecca Poole, your covers are perfect and your imagination delights me. Thank you.

 

Meg Weglarz, you save me from myself constantly with your amazing and insightful editing. Thank you.

 

Donna McDonald, you are my partner in crime, one of my dearest friends and one hell of an author. I’d be in deep doodoo without you. Thank you.

 

Donna McDonald and JM Madden, you are the best and most honest critique partners a gal could have. I don’t know what I would do without your eagle eyes and good taste. Thank you.

 

My beta readers; Wanda, Melissa, Susan and Karen, you rock so hard. Thank you.

 

Wanda, your organization skills keep me from going off the deep end. Thank you.

 

And my family…thank you for believing in me, understanding deadlines and putting up with my need to discuss fictional characters as if they were real people. None of this would be any fun without your love and support.

 

And my readers…I do this for you.

 

Dedication

 

For everyone’s inner Dragon—the one who lets you fly and be free.

 

Prologue

 

Her lips moved frantically, but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. I tried, but the ringing in my ears wouldn’t go away. As I moved toward her, her face distorted in anger and desperation. What had I done wrong? She always smiled at me—she never shouted.

 

Everything was red. It shouldn’t be red.

 

Shaking my head, I blocked out the screaming and groans of my brothers and glanced wildly around the room. It would take so long to clean up the mess, but I could do it. I was a good girl. I would make her smile—I would make them all smile. Everything would be okay.

 

I would pick up the pieces and put them back together like a puzzle. My brothers would be proud. They teased me because I was such a little girl, but I would show them.

 

“Dima,” my mother shouted. “Go. Go now.”

 

I shook my head no and moved towards her. She’d gotten tangled in ropes and chains. That was a silly game. I didn’t ever want to play that game.

 

“Listen to me,” she hissed as her eyes grew wide with terror. “You must leave, child. He’s coming back.”

 

I heard them gasping for air behind me, but I couldn’t look at that anymore. It was not the way it was supposed to be. My brothers were big and strong—not red and broken. This was a terrible game and I wanted them to stop.

 

“Mommy,” I cried. “I’m scared.”

 

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, then flew open blazing a brilliant green. “Use your gift. Use the gift I taught you and go. Go far away from here, Dima and never come back.”

 

“Come with me,” I begged as panic filled me. “I’m too small to go away. I want you to come—and Sean and Timothy and Matthew.”

 

“Your father will be back any moment,” she wailed. “You will do as I say. Now. Find your power and leave this place forever.”

 

“But I love you, mommy,” I choked out through the tears that had started and wouldn’t end for hundreds of years.

 

“If you love me, you will go,” she growled harshly.

 

I backed away and put my hands over my mouth so I wouldn’t beg anymore.

 

“I love you, my beautiful Dima. My precious daughter,” she whispered. “Please go.”

 

I nodded my head and she smiled. I would do anything to make her smile. I loved her.

 

So I did as she said.

 

I left.

 

But the horror of that day would follow me.

 

Always.

 

Chapter 1

 

Four hundred and ninety years later.

 

“I was thinking maybe we could
do
something fun,” I suggested trying my best not to sound pushy or desperate.

 

I accidently on purpose let the strap of my very fitted dress fall off my shoulder, revealing a little side boob and a tremendous amount of cleavage. This tactic usually worked like a dream, but apparently not today.

 

“That sounds wonderful, Dima. What did you have in mind?” Seth asked kindly as he expertly cleaned the daggers we’d used for target practice while totally oblivious to the blatant display of my knockers.

 

He was perfect—kind of. Not only was the man panty-melting gorgeous, more importantly, he was good through and through. I’d never met a Dragon like him. Most male Dragons I’d come across in my very long life were possessive, perverted and violent. Seth was patient and kind and was perfectly fine with the fact I was a single mother to an active four year old. Any other scaled jackass would have wanted nothing to do a child that wasn’t his. The thought of a female Dragon having been intimate with another was too much to handle for the pea brained fire breathers even though we were a very sexual race. Not to mention, my lineage didn’t send him running for the hills. Seth was different—hence my frustration and my need to seduce.

 

Why in the blazes wasn’t he trying to jump my bones? Had I lost my touch? Was he gay? I’d never come across a gay Dragon in my 499 years on earth, but…

 

“I was thinking we could have a picnic in a deserted park. Naked,” I added for good measure to see if he was listening.

 

“That sounds lovely, Dima. Why don’t we bring Daniel? I can work with him on his flying,” Seth chimed in agreeably.

 

He wasn’t listening.

 

“Actually,” I said, heaving a frustrated sigh, “I’m taking him to Hung Island, Georgia. He’ll be safe there.”

 

“That’s an outstanding idea,” Seth replied with a genuine smile and a gentle nod of his head. “I’ll meet you there in two days. How does that sound?”

 

“Great,” I said with forced enthusiasm. “I’ll see you then.”

 

***

 

“Is there something wrong with me?” I asked as I took critical stock of myself in the mirror.

 

I looked like I always did. I’d done nothing to earn my looks except be born—wild red hair, emerald green eyes, slim figure, tall and nice tatas—all inherited from my mother. Most Dragons were appealing. It helped us attract prey, not that many of us lived that way anymore. Since melding in with the humans for the last several hundred years most of us had reined in our barbaric tendencies of old. Plus we ate food just like the humans, grocery stores and restaurants were plentiful. Was I missing something that made me undesirable?

 

“Is that a trick question?” Essie, my new Werewolf friend asked with a smirk as she looked up from the coloring book she was sharing with my son Daniel. “You breathe fire. When you shift you’re roughly the size of a freakin’ tour bus with a tail that spans half a football field and the wingspan of a couple SUV’s parked back to back. You’re going to have to be more specific with the question.”

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