He’s a dragon in disguise, dark and brooding.
She’s a witch on the run, hiding a murderous secret.
The bold, beautiful woman makes the beast inside him roar.
The sexy man with fire in his eyes makes her burn with desire.
He needs a mate.
She needs a place to hide.
Getting rid of each other was the plan. Falling in love was not.
Their coupling was forbidden, the consequences their undoing.
There’s something strange about the forest, something a little bit off. The aroma of freshly baked breads, cakes and candies entices careless wanderers to venture through the thick foliage and come inside. Curious, they quickly become disoriented by a fake, yellow fog that leads them directly to the home of Marsha Mallow.
Her tasty treats are sweet on the tongue, and a few bites is all it takes to shrink grown men and women to the size of a troll, their ears forming pointy tips and their voices that of a child. The witless minions work for her, eagerly obeying her commands as if she were a queen.
Marsha’s magic doesn’t always work as it should, and mistakes are made. She once tried to turn a child into one of her tiny workers, but the little guy transformed into a feeble old man who could barely get around on his own.
She thought she was the only inhabitant of the forest… it was her forest... until she came across a house built into the side of a mountain and hidden except for its door. She boldly knocked and a man wearing nothing but a loincloth lured her inside. He was sexy in a raw, savage sort of way, and hiding a wicked secret of his own.
The nearly naked man, with thighs the size of tree trunks, makes her burn with desire, but she won’t let her lust get in the way of her plan… not this time.
As she stood there looking at him, evil thoughts filled her brain. She will turn him into one of her witless workers. A man his size will be of great use to her.
What she doesn’t know is that this man is different from any man she has known. There’s dragon in his blood. He came to the forest to escape the authorities, and he doesn’t need a witch like Marsha Mallow sniffing around.
Getting rid of each other was the plan. Falling in love was not. Their coupling was forbidden, and the consequences will be their undoing. The child they created, a combination of witch and dragon, was born to kill them.
“It’s a boy!” Mack exclaimed.
He held the baby to Marsha’s breast so the boy could eat, but Marsha was too weak to care for him. Mack held the baby to Marsha’s breast and opened the little mouth over the nipple. He was hungry and Marsha barely had enough to keep him satisfied. She slept when the child wasn’t eating, until finally on the fourth day she was able to take care of him with little help from Mack. Still, he insisted on caring for the child as much as he could, and Marsha loved him for it.
“What shall we name him?” Mack asked.
“Forest. He was conceived in the forest.”
“It’s perfect!” Mack said, as he held up his baby. “Welcome to the world, Forest.”
The baby stuck out his tongue that was pointy and sharp, and Mack nearly dropped him.
“What’s wrong, Mack?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” Mack lied.
Mack knew exactly what was wrong. His mother was a true witch of the coven, but his father was not. He was a dragon lord. Mack’s mother had died shortly after Mack was born, but his grandmother told him the story, the legacy, and he had seen pictures of his mother and father. His father had escaped when the Callows and Mallows merged. He knew he would be killed if he stuck around, so he fled.
Mack had made his peace with his legacy, until now. Being a doctor, he should have known better. Sometimes genes showed up when you least expected them to. His son was different. He would have the strength of a dragon and the magic of a witch.
The child of Marsha and Mack continued to thrust his pointy tongue at Mack, while he cooed like a normal child.
Marsha took the baby from him and lay down on the bed. She looked at the baby. “What is he? What have we done? Ouch!” she suddenly shouted, when she felt what she thought to be tiny sharp teeth bite the tip of her nipple.
She pulled young Forest from her bosom and swore she heard him giggle like a demented doll. She felt her body go numb when the split black tongue slithered out from between her child’s tiny lips and his beautiful blue eyes turned an evil color of black.
“Are you alright, Marsha?” Mack asked.
“It’s our son. Look at his eyes and his mouth. This child is… not one of us.”
“Of course he is.”
“No, Mack, there’s something wrong with him.”