The Island Of Dragons

By: Amira Rain

A Paranormal Shifter Romance


About This Book



When Ellie O'Brien went overboard on a cruise ship her whole life flashed before her eyes.

She woke up on a tropical island and was not sure if she was dead or alive. Was this Heaven? Hell? Or somewhere in between?

Ellie's questions were soon answered when she found herself being held prisoner by handsome dragon shifter Warren Knight.

Now, Warren is holding her captive till he finds out who she really is and how she found the Island.

Ellie knows she must win the trust of her captor if she is to get out of this alive.

And she is willing to do exactly what it takes to do that...

Could the captive be about to fall for the captee?







CHAPTER ONE





I’d just reached the deck railing on one side of the massive cruise ship when the ship suddenly began listing to the side, my side, to be exact.

I clutched the wooden railing with one hand while leaning back on my heels, or trying to anyway, to avoid going over. “Whoa.”

Almost as suddenly as it had listed, the ship righted itself, and I dared to take a deep breath, relaxing my grip on the railing.

“Geez.”

Because the railing was fairly high, and because the ship hadn’t tipped that far, I wasn’t sure that I’d really been in danger of falling overboard. Nonetheless, what had happened had been scary enough to make my heart race, and it still was racing. Slowly taking a few steps back from the railing, I surveyed the dark, moonlit waters of the Pacific Ocean, wondering what on earth could have possibly made the ship tilt as it had.

To my increasing confusion, I saw that the ocean was completely calm. As far as I could see, silvery light danced on only the gentlest of waves. Although I figured I was up pretty high, six stories, actually, on the top deck of the ship, and that, combined with the fact that it was night, was maybe why I couldn’t see what had made the ship lurch.

I wasn’t about to investigate further, though. I certainly didn’t plan on going anywhere near the railing again for the rest of the cruise. I figured I might not even go up on the top deck again. I liked the ocean, as far as the majestic beauty of it went, but I had no desire to swim in it. Or drown in it.

Since swimming in the ocean at the various ports of call was supposedly half the draw of the cruise, I really wasn’t even sure why I’d agreed to go on it with my friends. I supposed I did it just to make them happy and get them off my back.

Ever since I split with my boyfriend six months earlier, they’d been saying that I needed some fun and adventure in my life. Maybe I did. I hadn’t been dating anyone new or even attempting to meet anyone new, though that wasn’t because I was pining over my ex, because I definitely wasn’t. I honestly hardly even missed him, to the point that I had to wonder if I really, actually, had been in love with him.

The reason that I hadn’t been going out much was simply that I’d been very busy, stressed, and tired. Or I had been, right up until about a month before the cruise. That was when I was forced to close the doors of my tiny dance studio in Manhattan. That was when I ran out of money and had to give up my dream and concede defeat, at least for the time being.

I always loved dance. I started in ballet at age four, and just a few years later had proclaimed that being a prima ballerina in a large company was my destiny. However, my reality turned out to be a little different. I was talented, but not exceedingly so, unfortunately. Not prima-ballerina-in-a-large-company talented. Not even talented enough to be hired as a member of the corps.

Despite countless hours of hard work, I turned out to be just talented enough to always be one of the top two or three dancers at the studio where I took lessons from age four to my high school graduation. But no more than that.

I also hadn’t been blessed with a body perfectly suited to ballet. Which wasn’t to say that I was terribly overweight or weak or anything, but in my late teens, I’d developed what my mom had described as a “very womanly” body. I had an hourglass-shaped figure, with ample breasts and rounded hips, and I’d soon learned that dieting in an attempt to reduce my natural curves just made me feel ill and crabby all the time. So, I’d eventually had to make peace with the fact that my “destiny” would have to be modified a bit.

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