Read an Excerpt:Author L.J. Clarkson One thing you need to know about LJ Clarkson is that she tells BIG lies. She tells everyone that she gave up her career as an Environmental Engineer and Project Manager to write full time. But that's not entirely true. Ten percent of the time she sleeps in. Fifteen percent of her day, she spends surfing the internet, researching for new books and her business. Ok, fine. Two percent is for research. But she's only admitting it so she doesn't end up like Boldrick. For eighteen point seven five percent of her day, she runs her promotional and support site for authors, called Indicated (www.indicated.com.au). The rest of her time involves writing, reading, watching movies and TV, walking her dogs and falling asleep whenever her boyfriend talks technical computer lingo. Truthfully, she hates early mornings, mondays, grammar (yuck! just ask her poor editor!), broccoli and cleaning. If you would like to drop her and line and let her know what you think of the book, she would love to hear from you. Just not before 8:30am in the morning.
The pressure of death motivated Isabelle’s hand to fly across the page. Except her hand shook so badly, it traced a wobbly outline of the dragon’s body. If she didn’t calm down, his portrait would look more like a squiggle drawn by a toddler. And she didn’t want to offend him. Not when Boldrick had bragged about her drawing skills. Taking deep breaths worked wonders to steady her hand.
Using whisked strokes, she filled in his wings and highlighted his muscular arms. Next she shaped his speared tail.
“Roasting you for two hours will do the trick.” Ramala’s tail prodded logs deeper into the fire. “Your flesh shall be just the way I like it: juicy and tender, not crispy and burnt.”
Pressure in her chest squeezed the breath right out of her. Charcoal tore across the sheet, shading his angular face and horns.
The dragon sharpened his sapphire-blue talons against a rock.
The hideous noise stirred shivers in Isabelle.
Ramala leaned his neck forward to sniff her. “I will marinade you in apple sauce.”
Beads of sweat from her brow dripped onto the paper, smudging the charcoal on his eyes. Dabbing it with her cape only made it worse.
Maybe Ramala played on her fear to meddle with her concentration, and that was how he’d never been beaten in a challenge. Well then, he might have dinosaur-sized jaws capable of crushing her, but she refused to let him intimidate her.********************