Books 1 through 3 in the bestselling Dragons of Preor series in one volume!
They've come to Earth looking for mates... and found them.
Jarek - What’s hotter than an alien with scales? An alien with wings and scales, not to mention a hot body.
Taulan - He wants to return to Preor and she wants a job, but you don’t always get what you want.
Kozav - Kozav found his mate and then he lost her. Now it’s time to hunt…
What’s hotter than an alien with scales? An alien with wings and scales, not to mention a hot body.
At 457 Preor years old, Jarek sen Claron is a dragon ready for his final flight into the skies. This voyage to Earth as the War Master of the third fleet will be his final assignment. Once he has helped his fellow Preors secure human mates, he will return to Preor before the madness of loneliness overtakes his mind.
That all changes when he meets Melissa. Human Melissa with her sparkling eyes, bright smile, and body that would make any hot-blooded male drool. Unfortunately, she never registered as a Preor mate hopeful. No matter, the Knowing stretches between them and there is no way she can resist him. Until she does.
Jarek wishes to give her the choice to mate him, while everything inside him screams to take Melissa beneath his wing, now. No choosing necessary.
But should he draw her to his side when his enemies are circling? Many males do not believe the son of a Preor mass murderer deserves to have a mate. Can he survive the coming battles? Or will he die without tasting sweet Melissa’s lips?
They called it Knowing. When young, Jarek had always scoffed at such a thing. A Knowing. The idea was absurd. The masters and teachers heard his words and clucked their tongues, shaking heads and ruffling wings—clear signs they pitied him for his ignorance.
Then he’d lived year to year, watching his friends and peers experience their own Knowing.
Such as when Evuklar stopped in mid-flight, half way between Atue and Derilia above the Skoria forests. He’d pulled his wings tightly to his body, released a bellowing fire-tainted roar, and performed an aerial maneuver their masters never taught, diving into the trees. Later, after Evuklar saved his new mate from a group of Skors chasing her, he explained the dragon in his heart had stolen all control.
That was part of the Knowing—the recognition of their mates and subsequent tie of their minds. The rest… the rest was the gift of unerring knowledge of all that came before their lives. The collective history of their race, blood history, was opened to them.
It was large, vast, and heavy, Evuklar said. Something that could only be endured with a mate at his side to help shoulder the burden.
Jarek stopped doubting then. No, there were no doubts, but envy was now his constant companion.
Even four hundred twenty-two years later, the burn of envy filled his veins. He pushed the emotion down, unwilling to let it overpower him. If he allowed his emotions to rule his body… Well, they might as well send him on his final flight now and not wait until the madness of loneliness stole his mind.
He wants to return to Preor and she wants a job, but you don’t always get what you want.
Lana Cooper is down to her last hundred dollars, has no job, and her clunker of a car has finally clunked out. How has her life become such a cluster of horribleness? Oh, right. A guy. Only she doesn’t get a chance to beg for a job. Nope, one walk along the beach changes everything. Oh, she has a job now… as the mate to a hot, hunky Preor dragon male.
Taulan sen Pavon is anxious to return to his home on Preor. Yes, he’d journeyed to Earth in hopes of finding a human mate, but now… Now he would like to heal in the privacy of his aerie. Wings destroyed and body damaged by an explosion, he has no desire to watch others find joy with their mates while he remains unworthy and alone on a ship filled with thousands. But then he finds Lana. Lana with her alluring smile, sparkling eyes, luscious body, and whose mere presence initiates the Knowing.
Can he live long enough to claim her? Can she see past her father’s prejudice to love him? Both questions are pointless because there are still Preor who despise the joining of humans and dragons. They will stop at nothing to drive a wedge between the races. Including murder.
Taulan’s nose filled with the stench of burning flesh and singed wings. The scent overwhelmed all else to the point that he could not identify the attackers.
The traitors.
Moments ago, his only concern had been to ensure the Ujal delegation was adequately protected. A request for additional warriors was immediately answered and he’d sent a half-dozen fierce males to protect the War Master and Ujal both.
The moment Engineering became vulnerable, the traitors struck. First, one explosion rocked the ship, the vessel listing toward the port. Before he’d opened his mouth to issue orders, another blossomed before him. The starboard side was engulfed in fiery flames for a brief moment.
Fire that could not touch him—him or any other Preor. They were born of the flames, their bodies producing heat as if their very blood was replaced by fire. The explosion was merely a distraction.
The deadly assault came immediately after.
With the first roll of orange and yellow that blew the panels off Engineering’s portal, Taulan broke into a run. He shifted his wings aside and reached back. His hands found his blades easily, the worn handles melding to his palms after all these years. Passed from one generation to the next, they were as old as the Pavon family. Older than even War Master Jarek’s blades.
The handles of the honed metal filled one hand and then the other, wicked silver gleaming in the now dim halls. The ship quickly suppressed the flames, but it did nothing for the rest of the chaos.
Taulan stepped into the hall and blocked the first strike, meeting his attacker’s gaze. The Training Master—Prasho—snarled at him, baring his long fangs.
Prasho hissed two words that identified him as the enemy. “For purity.”
Purity. Purity of the Preor blood, purity of their race, purity of their souls.
Kozav found his mate and then he lost her. Now it’s time to hunt…
Grace Hall is a nurse, not a doctor. But when five Preor warriors are brought to the emergency room and the doctors won't touch the aliens, she steps forward. One warrior draws her more than the others. His teal wings, muscular body, and pain-glazed eyes have her torn between two desires — needing his touch and desperation to heal him. She’s going to save the Preor males, even if it kills her. When she loses consciousness after healing them, she realizes it just might.
Kozav sen Aghin, Primary Warrior of the Preor Third Fleet, wakes on the Preor battleship fully healed yet plagued by a feeling that something is wrong. And something is… Kozav's mate was left behind on Earth—alone and unprotected. Unacceptable. Kozav's guilt for his actions in the past still plague him and he is determined not to fail again. The curvaceous, green-eyed, dark haired human female is his to protect, his to claim and his to keep.
When someone attempts to murder Grace, Kozav is prepared to do whatever it takes to keep her safe. Even if it means killing one of his own. Or will it be Kozav with a sword through his chest?
Grace would probably lose her job if she stabbed the woman in the eye. That knowledge didn’t lessen her desire to do the aforementioned stabbing, though. Nope. Her fingers itched to change her grip on the pen, tighten her hold, and then stab, stab, stab.
She swallowed hard and pushed back her irritation. It wasn’t the woman’s fault. Deep breath. Or even her mate’s fault. Another deep breath. Nah, the problem was with Grace. Envy turned her into a violent bitch. Not homicidal, thankfully, but a bitch none the less.
A sappy sigh drew her focus, pulling her thoughts away from the need to pluck out the chick’s eyeballs and back to the task at hand. Mainly, verifying the match. As a Senior Mating Representative, it was her responsibility to verify matches via a handy-dandy checklist and out-process the new, happy couple.
Screw it, she was a glorified cashier. And not even a well-paid one. She got minimum wage to perch behind a desk in her agency provided skirt suit with a smile on her face while she wished mates well on their way out the door.
Not before greasing the Intergalactic Mating Agency’s palm first, though. The IMA did a lot of good… for a price. Overhead, right?
Another sound, this one more of a hum, and Grace lifted her head, not even a bit surprised at what she found. The couple—a human woman and her blue-skinned Bellatani mate—were wrapped around each other. Like, literally. The Bellatani had four arms that he used to stroke and pet his new mate. A hand disappeared beneath her skirt while two others worked on the buttons of her blouse and then that fourth disappeared… somewhere.
Now was the time to put a stop to it and not just because she was jealous. IMA had a clear policy about mating during outprocessing.
Grace cleared her throat. “Ahem.”
One of the two moaned.
“Aaaa. Hemmm.”
The moaned response was longer that time. The woman shifted in place and Grace realized the Bellatani’s missing hand was on his pants, fighting to free his erect length.
Yeah, she wasn’t going to ogle an off-worlder. Not today. She normally worked in mating intake, which was fine, but today the girl who handled exit interviews was out, which meant Grace had to step in and… she was not a voyeur.
She reached for a nearby tablet, one of the older thicker models that was kept around for just this purpose. Sure, it worked just fine and could access agency data, but its true purpose was for…
She lifted the hunk of plastic and metal and dropped it to the desk. Boom.
(It really was big.)
The woman squeaked, the Bellatani roared and Grace smiled. At least she had their attention.
Long, pale fangs unfolded from the alien’s mouth and Grace held it together, not flinching when he hissed. Bellatani talked a good game but generally didn’t touch a female that did not belong to them. Not in anger or passion. Which meant she wasn’t scared. Much.
“Hello, I’m Senior Mating Representative Hall. Congratulations on your match. I just have a few forms to complete before you two can get on your way and enjoy your new lives together.”
The Bellatani still glared, the woman blushed, and Grace flicked her finger across the desk to display the first—of many—form. “Now, sir, if you’ll place your palm here…”
And so it went. One couple in, ten thousand credits collected, one happy couple out. Over and over again.
She reminded herself she was happy for all the others who matched. Really, for the most part, she was happy. Except when she got home at night, said good-bye to her mother’s carer and then watched her mom sleep. Sleep that would be interrupted by bouts of coughing or bone-shaking shivers around one and again at four.
Last night had been bad and the morning hadn’t shaped up any better. To top it off, she had two long shifts. First at the Intergalactic Mating Agency and then she had to head to…
More moaning.
Dammit, they were going at it again. She should have remembered that about the race. The second they encountered their mate, it was all about getting horizontal and they didn’t care where or when. Vertical could work because many of their males were extremely strong. Plus, they had the extra arms thing going on.
Grace picked up the tablet and dropped it, the three of them repeating the same events from moments before. She ignored the hiss she received and kept her attention on the human woman. “If you’ll first place your palm here, confirming your willingness to mate with…” she glanced down at the now-flickering tablet. “Riz’ta Sico’rolqir, we can get you two out of here.”
Beings matched with off-worlders had to agree to leave the planet. No print, no mating.
The woman slammed her hand down, shaking the desk with the force, before plastering her lips on her new alien mate.
“Great, if you two have any questions, feel free to call the eight hundred—”
They vanished from sight, ignoring her completely.
Great.
Violence is never the answer… unless you’re a Preor warrior.
Rendan sen Tarkan, Offense Master to the Preor Third Fleet, has found his human mate. She is small compared to him, but her curves, delicious scent, and sky blue eyes call out to his soul. He has waited for a female for over two centuries and he will fight—kill—any who dare attempt to take her. Even one of his own males.
One moment Carla was unemployed and the next she was on the Preor battleship, working as a nurse for human-Preor mates. Oh, and the next moment? That was when she found her sexy, alien pink-scaled mate. Then she watched the muscular dragon shifter get beat to hell. And then she was assigned a condo in Preor Tower on Earth. The person in the condo next door? That sexy, alien pink-scaled male.
Learning about the proud alien warrior isn’t trouble free, but it’s easier than almost dying. Yeah, almost. But the Preor who tried to end her life? Well, he doesn’t quit easily. She only hopes Rendan is there to save her when the alien tries to end her life once again.
In many ways, Carla was a pushover. A good glare could send her scurrying away, and a solid frown would have her backing into a corner. She didn’t even want to think about how she reacted when someone yelled at her.
She was not a pretty crier.
But under certain circumstances, she had a backbone of steel. Specifically, when she worked on a patient. When she gloved up and got her nurse on, she was all business and absolutely zero patience.
Wait, that was a lie. She was the liarest of liars. She had to amend those ballsy thoughts. Oh, they still applied—most of the time. Just not when she was on a Preor ship surrounded by Preor warriors—big, winged, deadly, highly skilled, dragon-shifting, Preor warriors.
And at the moment, her definition of “surrounded” meant two—two Preors.
Healing Master Whelon stood behind her, peering over Carla’s shoulder while she worked. The massive, gray Preor was nice… but massive. Silver hair, tanned skin, and wide-spreading wings accented his size. They combined with his broad, bare chest and clinging katoth—similar to Earth leather—pants. The fact that his coloring was similar to the ship’s walls just added to his imposing presence.
He’d never done anything to her—never shouted, glared, or snarled. He’d been nothing but gracious and overjoyed when she’d joined the Preor staff as a nurse specifically meant to care for the human-Preor mates onboard. That couldn’t banish the fear, though.
Fear of large men and the damage they could cause.
What’s a single, pregnant woman supposed to do when her family kicks her out? Go to Preor Choosing Station Tau and hope a dragon shapeshifting alien is her mate, of course.
Delaney Cole found her mate among the Preor only to watch him die—through his own eyes thanks to the Knowing. Now, what’s she supposed to do when she discovers that her second mate is the male who’d killed her first? It doesn’t matter that he’s gorgeous, that his peach scales invite her touch, and his thick muscles make her fingers tingle with the need to caress him. She shouldn’t want such a violent, deadly male, but… she does.
Zadri was born a son of Syh, orphaned and unwanted, and he never imagined actually having a mate. Yet, Delaney is his. Yes, he was the one to rip out her first mate’s throat, but now that he has experienced the Knowing with her, he will not let her go. Her lush curves, inner strength, and unborn young belong to him—wholly and until he takes his final flight.
When others attempt to rip her from his life, he will explain the gravity of their error. Slowly. Painfully. He only hopes he can reach her before they escape.
Zadri wondered what terrors plagued the small female before him. She thrashed on the medical platform, her small arms tugging against the firm restraints around her wrists. He mentally snarled at their presence but could not deny their necessity.
The woman whimpered and jerked her right arm, fist only raising a few inches before relaxing back down to the soft surface beneath her. She turned her head so quickly her dark hair followed the movement, hiding her face from his sight. That same snap came again, allowing him to see her once more.
Allowed him to see her delicate nose, the tip rising ever-so-slightly. The fullness of her lips, lips he ached to taste. Her face was slightly rounded yet her cheeks appeared hollow, a sign of her need for sustenance though he did not believe she’d wanted for long. The elegant line of her pale neck, skin so light he could see the slight blue-green tint of her veins.
Zadri did not allow himself to focus on her breasts, a hint of shame filling him for lusting over a female that was not awake.
A female that did not belong to him.
He did let his stare wander to the mound of her belly, the roundness not caused by what humans called fat but by a dragonlet. No, that was not correct. Humans called their offspring children.
The offspring inside this female was human and considered small according to Human-Healer Butler—the human-Preor mate of another warrior. He wondered if it was due to the woman’s hunger and difficulties, or if the child’s sire was merely weak.
Though all human males were considered weak. None on Earth were stronger than the Preor—especially not humans. He decided the diminutive shape was its sire’s fault.
Taulan joi Lana Coburn, War Master of the Preor third fleet, is finally having his wishes granted. He has a mate and will soon have two dragonlets to protect and love. But only if he can live to see them born. Or, as his Lana says, hatched.
People who tell pregnant women to walk during labor because it will make things “easier” had never pushed a watermelon out of a hole the size of a lemon. Lana was fully prepared to take a watermelon and shove it up the next person’s hole if they even talked to her—though she did stop short of imagining what she’d do if they gave her additional advice. That was one bloody fantasy she wouldn’t mind indulging.
Unfortunately, it’d have to wait a little while. Specifically, until she gave birth and recovered. Then she was all over being War Mistress and mate to the Preor War Master, Taulan.
All over it.
She’d bloody him up, too, while she was at it. He was the one who’d gotten her pregnant, and not with one alien baby, but with twins.
Twins. Two. More than one. She still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around that concept. Twins didn’t run in her family and the Knowing—the blood history of the Preor that she gained when she met Taulan—couldn’t provide her with probabilities since human-Preor matings were still a bit of a mystery.
She breathed deep and reached for a nearby piece of furniture, one of the chairs she’d had brought to the ship from Earth. Since her mate didn’t have large dragon wings like other Preor, they hadn’t needed the backless seating that populated others’ quarters.
Wings… tears stung her eyes when she thought of all her mate had lost. Even more blurred her vision when she realized she was crying—again. She cried because she was crying. And then she cried harder because hormones made her cry.
He has to choose—love or honor—because he can’t have both.
Elle may be a Davenport, but she’s finding she enjoys life as a mostly-gray sheep of the Davenport family. She kicked off the Daven Bio uniform and now works for their corporate enemy—Cole Pharma, now headquartered in Preor Tower. She’s got massive, muscular, winged aliens surrounding her from sun up to sun down. But there’s only one Preor warrior who throws her world into a tailspin—Ivoth sen Pezet’li. Strong. Sexy. Sinfully seductive. Hers? No. They don’t share the Knowing, but that doesn’t stop her from wanting him. Bad.
Ivoth made a vow to his sire—the sen Pezet line would not end with him. And yet, when he speaks with Elle, scents her skin, and feels her curves against his hard body, he does not know if he can let her go. He craves her more than any other—perhaps even more than he desires to fulfill his vow—and he knows he must make a choice. Keep Elle and never have dragonlets or leave her and lose his heart forever.
Ivoth has to make a choice, but first, he has to keep Elle alive. Someone wants her dead and Ivoth is determined to kill them first. He only prays to Syh he is successful.
The nanite window was shattered. The Araimi shielded nanite window was shattered.
Elle Davenport let that word linger in her mind, repeating the syllables with every step nearer to the empty window frame.
Sha.
Ttered.
Sha.
Ttered.
By the stars, shattered.
Her heart rate doubled, blood and adrenaline rushed through her veins at an ever-increasing pace, and air heaved in and out of her lungs. She wasn’t a worrier by nature—worry, not panic, because Davenports didn’t panic—but she was a little concerned by what she saw.
Yes, concern was an excellent word. Not worry and definitely not panic.
Charred remnants of tech framed the portal, sparks flickering and raining down on the concrete sidewalk. A sea of dark sand covered the pale gray walkway, disabled nanites forming a soft bed of deactivated robotics.
She continued on her path toward the destruction, her heels clicking on the hard ground. She wanted to break into a run, race to the building, push past the growing crowd, and dash through the entry.
But Davenports did none of those things. They were stately. They walked. They did not touch others and simply stared until a lesser moved. Hair always remained in place, and they never ever sweat or allowed anyone to see them in any way other than perfect.
He’s willing to lose his honor to claim her, but first he must save her.
The Preor emperor bestowed honors on warrior Brukr sen Zak’lu centuries ago—honors he does not deserve. Since then, he has fought to prove himself worthy of the emperor’s support. He works to protect and care for the females within Preor Tower no matter how difficult they make his task. One female constantly disregards orders and makes his duty nearly impossible. Hannah—with her flowing hair, teasing smiles, and generous curves—torments him with what he cannot have. He aches for her like no other, his dragon rages when he leaves her side, but without the Knowing stretching between them he cannot claim her. Or can he?
Genetic modifications have changed Hannah’s appearance, but they can’t change her past. To atone, she steps into the spotlight as a spokesperson for Cole-Daven and moves into Preor Tower. Every day she struggles to convince other humans to accept Cole-Daven’s treatment for Pol Mutation. She also fights her attraction to one specific alien Preor. They’re not mates, but everything in her craves the large, muscular, deliciously tempting dragon shifting warrior.
With her exposure to the public, Hannah now has humans after her. Some want to possess her, others want to torture her, and many want to kill her. That is unacceptable to Brukr and he will tell them so… with his war blades.
A mother’s plea, a childless alien’s promise, and a Preor warrior torn between his mate and duty…
After a hundred years of mating, Healing Master Chashan thought he knew all there was to know about his mate, Heart Master Khaza. But the sudden presence of one adorable human baby shows him that he’s very, very wrong.
Now he has a choice: claim a human baby as his own and put joy in his mate’s heart, or turn the child over to human authorities.
Which will he choose? Honor or love?
Books 4 through 7 in the bestselling Dragons of Preor series in one volume!
Rendan - Violence is never the answer… unless you’re a Preor warrior.
Zadri - What’s a single, pregnant woman supposed to do when her family kicks her out? Go to Preor Choosing Station Tau and hope a dragon shapeshifting alien is her mate, of course.
Hatched - Taulan joi Lana Coburn, War Master of the Preor third fleet, is finally having his wishes granted. He has a mate and will soon have two dragonlets to protect and love. But only if he can live to see them born. Or, as his Lana says, hatched.
Ivoth - He has to choose—love or honor—because he can’t have both.
Argan’s honor as a Preor warrior made him defend her. Liquid Knot’s heart demanded she save him.
Liquid Knot—hacker extraordinaire—has made mistakes in her life, but none so big as getting an alien warrior sentenced to death. His head is on the chopping block and the Preor leader is determined to follow the letter of the law. Now, there’s only one thing she can do to prevent his death: claim the sun-colored, sexy, delicious winged male as her mate.
Argan sen Izz’bara does not regret defending Liquid Knot—his dragon’s heart would not allow him to remain silent—he regrets that she condemns herself to a mating in name only. Yet as they spend time together, it becomes clear there is more than friendship between them. Attraction. Passion. Need. Argan did not experience the Knowing the first time he met Liquid Knot so there is no way they could be mates. Right?
Before the question can be answered, someone in the shadows makes his displeasure known. Argan was supposed to die. Now his enemy is intent on destroying Argan and Lily both.
Can he save her from a rampaging Preor again? Or will he fail her just as he has failed so many?
He had thought he would never experience the Knowing. All he needed was the right woman.
After suffering a traumatic injury as a child, Dawn has lived a sheltered life under the shadow of tragedy. Despite her passion for botany, neither her family nor her limitations ever allowed her to pursue her dreams...until the day she encounters the Preor and they need help only she can provide.
Vende has grown weary. Weary of overseeing the engineering infrastructure for the Preor Third Fleet, weary of watching as his fellow warriors find their mates, and—after several failed Choosings—weary of trying to find his own. It's time he face facts and resign himself to the life of a solitary warrior. Then he meets Dawn and finally understands the full power of the Knowing.
Desire. Love. Need.
But destiny can be cruel to those it sidelines. With the fate of the Preor hanging in the balance, Vende and Dawn must face seemingly insurmountable odds to find their happily ever after--not to mention save the warrior race from extinction.
Will it be enough? Or will Dawn and Vende lose their love before it has a chance to fully blossom?
Experiencing the Knowing is magical… until you have to deal with human in-laws…
Local news celebrity Sasha Dane and her mother are fixated on one goal—leverage their media presence to make life supremely difficult for the invading Preor. They want the aliens gone from Earth and for their unnatural hold on human females to end. Permanently. That’s how Sasha found herself at Preor Choosing Station Tau attending a Preor Choosing. Her job? Gather as much dirt as possible. If only that had gone according to plan…
Preor Healing Master Whelon never liked the human “cattle calls.” Where hordes of human females threw themselves at the attending Preor in hopes the Knowing would blossom. Nevertheless, he finds himself drawn to Choosing, pulled by an inexplicable force to attend. And that’s when it happened…
The Knowing. Desire. Want. Need. Hope…
Now, both Sasha and Whelon realize fate has a cruel streak. Sasha must contend with the differences between what she thought to be true—the Preor are an evil, women-stealing, vicious peoples—and reality… That the Preor cherish and love their mates and care for all human beings. Meanwhile, Whelon must realize that his fated mate has obstacles only she can fight.
Will Sasha overcome her mother’s teachings and embrace her Preor mate? Or will she deny the Knowing—deny Whelon—and curse them both to death?
The Preor came to Earth with open arms and hopes that they’d find their mates. They were greeted with closed fists and utter hatred.
Livvy holds no love for the Preor. They said they came in peace, but she didn’t believe them for a hot second. They claimed they wished to work together for a greater future for both races. Yeah, she didn’t buy that one at all.
And yet, when they told her she was fated for one of the dragon-shifting aliens… she knew in her heart that it was true.
It was not the Choosing that Radoo had anticipated through the centuries with anxiety-laden hope. Besides, while he fields most of the command duties of the Preor Third Fleet, he has no time for a mate. Or so he believes.
Radoo’s world is rocked when he comes into contact with Livvy and the Knowing affects him. But what happens when the human fated to be his hates him and everything he stands for? When she belongs to the Resistance who will stop at nothing to drive the Preor aliens from Earth?
Truly, what is Radoo to do when he discovers that his mate is his enemy?