One non-magical woman is the Chosen One. Destiny won’t wait. With her fiercely loyal friend, Lottie, by her side, and Blaze’s army behind her, Amy is thrust into a war against the most evil dragon ever to preside over the dragon realm on the Island of Mu. A creature whose heinous ambition is nothing less than total annihilation of the mortal world and complete global domination.
To survive, they must fight the ancient powers and unite the fractured kingdoms. The Island of Mu is burning… and only she can turn the tide.
She rubbed the back of her head, felt a small lump, and winced. Her head was throbbing. Her knee was yelling at her and now she heard angry, men’s voices.
One of them yelled, “Over there! There she is. Get her!”
Another pulled out a long knife and they ran toward her.
Amy rushed into the woods. Turning around, she could see they were catching up to her.
Up, Amy, up. They won’t be looking up.
She climbed an oak tree as high as she could. Pulling on the long skirt, she squatted on a branch.
The branch felt odd and slithered underneath her. A large, looming face in the shape of a dragon stared at her unblinking.
Holy cr—
The creature put a long claw to its mouth and said, “Shhh.”
Amy took a deep breath. A scream was building inside her but before she could release the ear-piercing screech, she was muzzled by the creature. Her heart jolted as its wing enveloped her and she lost consciousness.
A few moments later, she was gulping for air. Fully expecting to open her eyes and see the hotel lobby, she was stunned to be staring into the eyes of a dragon.
–A dragon, a huge dragon with big, green eyes.
You’re safe.
Amy shook her head. “No. No, I’m not. There’s no okay in this, whatever this is at all. This is crazy. Why is this happening?”
Where did you come from?
She stared at his mouth. It wasn’t moving.
This hallucination was freaking weird. A talking dragon that didn’t move his lips. They’re going to take her away and leave her in the psych ward for the rest of her life.
Her eye began twitching. It wasn’t real. None of it makes sense.
Think, Amy. Dragons aren’t real. How could a dragon talk?
Anything can happen in a hallucination. She repeated to herself. This isn’t real.
Was she dead? Is this purgatory? Her own personal nightmare of an afterlife? Could she have injured herself so badly that she died?
She wasn’t a bad person. It certainly wasn’t in Hades. Well, it better not be Hades.
A talking, psychic dragon communicating with his mind.
Of course, it makes soooo much more sense.
She watched as the men ran into the woods, searching for her.
The dragon spoke in a deep, soothing voice, “Why are you dressed in that garb?”
Amy stared at the huge beast.
The beast’s green eyes penetrated her with a questioning glare.
“A— a party. We were going to a party.”
He looked at the bracelet.
“Someone put them in my shopping bag.”
“Let’s go. We need to get you into normal clothing. I’ll take you to Bev’s.”
Amy started climbing down the tree.
“No, no.” The dragon grabbed her and placed Amy on his back before taking flight.
Amy squealed, inhaled and released another louder scream.
“Stop.” His body jolted. “Your obnoxious squawking is impaling my ears.”
Within a few moments, they soared through the air and flew from cloud to cloud.
Her stomach flipped and she swallowed the huge lump in her throat.
“Ugh, no ups and downs, please.”
He laughed. “No quick drops? You’re the slow-boat kind of person.”
Her heart was finally returning to its normal beat. She was getting comfortable riding on his back and was beginning to enjoy the view.
“Whoa! This is awesome. I never have flying dreams.”
The dragon huffed.
Amy was mesmerized. It was freaking fantastic. The warm heat from the sun and soft air on her face, the flapping of his wings, it was glorious.
She could do this. It was peaceful. He was gliding along and she was euphoric.
Hold on.
“Hold on? No, don’t ruin the moment!”
The dragon took a deep dive. Amy let out an earsplitting shriek and gripped the back of his neck tighter as he gracefully landed on the ground in front of a small, wooden cabin.
He grunted in pain.
“Your fingernails are cutting into my skin.”
“Sorry.” Amy dismounted him like she would a horse.
“You don’t look like you’re sorry.”
She gave him an angry side-eye.
He grumbled, “Go. Tell her I sent you.”
“Um. You want me to knock on a stranger’s door, in the middle of BFE, and tell her a dragon sent me?”
“We’re not in Egypt.”
She snapped, “What? We’re in the middle of freaking nowhere. That’s what BFE means!”
Ignoring her irritation, he responded, “We’re in Ireland.”
“Ireland? I’ve never been to Ireland. How am I dreaming that I’m here? I’ve only seen pictures and this in not anything like the pictures.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. I don’t have a passport with me!”
She rubbed her forehead. Why would she need a passport in a dream?
“No worries.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “I’ll be back in a blink. In the meantime, tell her Blaze sent you.”
“Oh, look. A fairy circle.”
His wide-eyed, incredulous stare gave her pause. He shook his head. “Wow.”
She shrugged.
“I can’t keep up with you.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. My mind goes really fast sometimes.” She limped toward the fairy circle.
“What are you doing?”
Amy chuckled. “Making a wish.”
He looked at her like she was growing horns.
“Um, yeah. Make a wish and the fairies will grant it only if they see fit. You have to watch out for all the fairies protecting the fairy circle. You don’t want to step on them, you know.”
Amy stepped back from the circle. “Hello, little fairies. I hope you’re having a pleasant day.”
He harrumphed and walked away.
“Hey, it’s my dream. I can do what I want.”
Amy raised her hand to knock, but never made contact. An elderly woman, in her mid-seventies, opened the door.
“Oh, I thought I heard Blaze’s voice.”
“I’m Amy. He told me to tell you—”
The woman opened the door wider. “Come in. The sun’s going to be setting soon and it’ll be a bit chilly.”
The elderly woman had light hair, dark blue eyes, and a wide, pleasant smile. Her hair was rolled up into a bun tucked on the back of her head. Amy’s memories immediately went to the cartoon with the grandma lady who owned the canary, Tweety.
Amy cautiously entered the house and as she turned to look about, a man rushed through the doorway.
He was an average-looking man except for his eyes. They gleamed an effervescent green. The man’s dark hair was a deep contrast to his light skin.
She never cared for the five o’clock shadow but it did do him justice.
“There you are, Blaze.” She handed him a mug.
“Thank you, Bev.”
“Mark on his way?”
“Soon. He has a few things he needs to take care of before he comes.”
Mark? As in Harlow?
Bev turned to Amy. “What would you like, dear? I’ve got some hot tea on the table or, if it pleases, I can pour another draught.”
“T—”
“She needs normal clothes.”
Amy glared at Blaze. “And who are you?”
“I’m the man who saved your skinny bum and brought you here.”
“And how, pray tell, did you do that? A dragon…” Her voice trailed off.
Bev looked puzzled. “So, she’s not from medieval times?”
“No.”
“She didn’t time-travel here?”
“No.”
Time travel? Amy interrupted, “I can speak for myself.”
“Really?” He snorted. “Go ahead, darling, and explain how you got here.”
“Fine. I was at a party.” Amy flipped her hand in the air. “I tucked the jeweled comb in my wig and the next thing I knew, these men attacked me and I’ve been having this dream or possibly been unconscious ever since.”
Blaze sat at the table. “You’re not unconscious.”
“Then you tell me what’s happening.”
Bev took her arm. “Oh, sweetie, it’s been a day for you, hasn’t it? Sit, relax, and have a cuppa. I’ll get you some clothes that should fit you. We’ll get you all sorted out.”
The concern in Bev’s voice was telling.
Wariness clung to Amy as a hesitant smile tugged at her lips, a stark contrast to how she was feeling.
“I don’t need clothes. I just want to wake up.”
Bev asked, “Wake up?”
Blaze waved Bev’s question off and spoke to Amy, “Somehow, you’ve managed to get two very powerful and magical relics to bring you here. People have gone to war to possess the magical comb and bracelet.”
Amy grunted.
“Those men stole the relics to take over Mu and conquer the magical world. They will not hesitate to kill you for them.”
Amy bit her upper lip, repressing a nervous giggle. “Not ruby-red slippers? Will lightning flash from the jewelry when you try to remove it from my hair and wrist? Do I repeat ‘there’s no place like home’ three times?”
Blaze glowered. “I don’t find your sarcasm amusing.”
She removed the jeweled comb and handed it to Blaze. “Here. Take it.”
Bev glared at Blaze and tapped Amy’s hand. “Blaze can get you back to where you belong and to your party whenever you’re ready.”
“Good.” Amy put her wrist toward Blaze. “I’m more than ready.”
Blaze reached to take the bracelet off her wrist. “It won’t come off.”
Bev put her hand to her chest. “What?”
Amy’s voice shook in panic. “No, no, take it off!”
“It won’t come off.”
“Fine, then I’ll do it.”
She fiddled with the clasp and finally threw up her hands in frustration. “It won’t come off!”
Bev walked over to the cabinet and brought back a bottle of Irish whiskey and three glasses, and said, “It has begun.”
Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and Wall Street Journal bestselling, award-winning author, Pamela Ackerson is a time traveling adventurer. She was born and raised in Newport, RI, where history is a way of life. She lives on the Space Coast of Florida, where everyone is encouraged to reach for the stars!
Her literary journey is as diverse and adventurous as the time-traveling escapades she writes about. With a rich tapestry of genres at her fingertips, she weaves stories that span from the wild frontiers of the Old West to the intricate cultural tapestries of Native American history. Her work doesn’t stop at fiction; she delves into the realms of history, self-help, and even marketing, showcasing a versatility that resonates with a wide audience.
Ackerson’s presence on the Space Coast of Florida reflects her forward-thinking approach to writing, always aiming for the next big leap in her storytelling odyssey. Her prolific output is a testament to her dedication to her craft, inviting readers to join her in exploring the vast landscapes of human experience and imagination.
Honest reviews of Pamela’s books are always appreciated.
Absolutely no AI programs were used to create any story she has written.
Thank you and have a good moments day.
Website * Facebook * X (Twitter) * BookBub * Amazon * Goodreads
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
Enter the Dragons of Mu Giveaway Here
Wildwood Exit by Joel E. Turner
Boys' Mom Reads! 