This book brings us full circle!
I have 3 series (so far) with Sourcebooks. Or, you could call it 1 series with 3 spin-offs! I lovingly call it the series that never ends... Series 1, Strange Neighbors; Series 2, Flirting with Fangs; and now Series 3, Boston Dragons!
This review sums it up so well, I'll use it instead of the blurb:
Chase (Flirting under a Full Moon, 2013) launches her new paranormal-romance series, Boston Dragons, with a tale filled with her trademark fantasy-paranormal characters, snarky dialogue, and sizzling heat.— Ilene Lefkowitz
What is sexier than a dark-haired Irish musician? Perhaps one who can also shift into a fire-breathing dragon. Dragons Rory Arish and his sisters are looking for a place to live after a band of leprechauns accused them of stealing their treasure and drove them out of their homeland. Amber McNally is a flight attendant in need of a new apartment and a new man in her life. A friend tells her about a great place at a price she can afford. But the one remaining apartment in the building has been rented to both Amber and Rory. Neither is about to give up the new home, no matter what. Then an over-the-top feud with the furious leprechauns brings Amber and Rory to their senses, and they find that sharing an apartment, and a bed, might not be the worst thing to do.
Here's an excerpt from I Dream of Dragons, release date 4/5/2016
Amber yawned. It was clearly time for bed, and she wasn’t looking forward to another long night on a hard floor. “Well, g’night then,” she said and strolled toward her room. “Thank you for the music— or the session, as you call it. It was a lot of fun.”
Rory rose. “Ah, lass. Come here.”
She halted abruptly. What could he want? A good- night kiss? Not likely.
He opened his futon and stood beside it. “I know there’s not a stick of furniture in your room. I can’t make a lady such as yerself sleep on a cold, hard floor.”
He was offering up his bed? For her? “What’s the catch?” She approached slowly.
“I- I don’t know what to say.” She stopped a few feet from him.
“No need to say a word. You can even have the side near the fire— such as it is.”
“No funny business, right? I mean, I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and find you wrapped around me like a python.”
He stiffened. “You think I’m luring you to me bed for sex? I am not, lass. That would indeed make me a snake.”
“I don’t know many men who aren’t interested in a fling once they get a woman into bed.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. I offered. Mayhaps I’ll sleep guilt free after all.” With that, he lay down on “his side” and faced away from the fire.
Damn it. Amber didn’t think she could feel more foolish, but she did. A few moments ago, she was looking at a long sleepless night on the hardwood floor…and now she was again. She’d been offered half of his comfortable mattress, and instead of expressing gratitude, she’d insulted him. Being suspicious of motives might have been appropriate if an American man was trying to talk her into staying overnight to “save her from” a short drive home. But she was stuck there with only one mattress between them, and he owed her nothing.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He opened his eyes and levered himself to a sitting position. “I understand. You don’t know me. Not really. If you did, you’d know there was no ulterior motive involved.”
She nodded sadly. “I think even though I don’t know you, I sensed that you meant no more than generosity. Unfortunately my experience with men has been quite different.”
“Ah, lass. It’s unfortunate indeed. You’re a beauty, and men will want you. But they’ve no right to trick you into somethin’ you don’t want.”
“Come and sit. Perhaps we can get to know each other enough to get past this hump.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Hump?”
“Ack! I didn’t mean it that way. I- I…”
She chuckled and sat next to him. “I knew that. I just couldn’t resist making you squirm— or in this country, we call it ‘busting your balls.’”
“Oh. You’ve an unkind sense of humor, luv.”
“I know. Sorry.”
He smiled. “Not a’tall. I’m used to it. Most Irish lasses are the feisty sort, and any one of them could have pulled that off…although not quite as well.”
“Well, I must have reached into my Irish heritage for that one.” Amber sat on the futon, ‘leaving enough room for the Holy Spirit’ between them, as her grandmother used to say.
He brightened. “Are you Irish then?”
“My last name is McNally. I’m as Irish as Paddy’s pig.”
They both laughed. It was a deep, cathartic thing that ended with giggles and grins over an inside joke. Rory’s eyes watered and he swiped at them. Then, by the funny way his face scrunched, Amber realized he was trying to stifle a yawn.
“We need to sleep,” she said. “Is your kind offer still open?”
He removed his shoes, but left on his sweatpants and T- shirt. “Of course.”
Even though he faced away from “her side,” he was a big man and had to curl a bit to keep his feet from falling off the end. That pushed his firm- looking ass over the invisible line between them. She didn’t dare complain. Amber slipped off her shoes and padded over to her side of the futon. She didn’t take off her blouse or jeans either. She thought about removing her bra, but to heck with it. She was exhausted and just wanted to drop down onto the comfy mattress and sleep.
Apparently they were both side sleepers. She lay on her side, facing away from him, and accidentally bumped his buttocks.
“That wasn’t me,” he was quick to say.
“I know. Sorry.” She tried to scoot closer to the edge but teetered, in danger of falling off. No matter how many times she adjusted, she just knew they couldn’t fit that way.
Rory spoke up. “If you want to mimic spoons in a drawer, I promise I won’t think anythin’ of it.”
She realized that curling the same way they’d fit much better.
She sighed. “Okay, but I get to be the big spoon. I don’t want to accidentally bump into your…”
“Knife?” he supplied.
Amber’s face heated and she was glad he couldn’t see her fair complexion, because it was probably turning red. Still she couldn’t help giggling.