Dragon Bound
Elder Races - 1
by
Thea Harrison
Doing business with a dragon. Now that’s a cutthroat experience.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I have a lot to be grateful for and a lot of people to mention. I am so remarkably fortunate for everyone I have met and worked with while journeying with this book to publication.
First, I’d like to thank my fabulous agent, Amy Boggs, at the Donald Maass Literary Agency for her all-around bestitude and for being such a patient champion of my writing. I’m thrilled beyond words to thank my editor, Cindy Hwang, for her powerhouse enthusiasm and expertise, her assistant, Leis Pederson, for such friendly, prompt replies, and to the entire team at Berkley for their awesome work.
I would also like to offer special thanks to Ann Aguirre, Nalini Singh, Shannon Butcher, J. R. Ward, Christine Feehan, Angela Knight and Anya Bast. They are amazing women and accomplished writers, and I am honored to have their support.
And here’s a shout-out to my superheroine beta readers. Thanks to Anne, Shawn, Fran B. , Suzi, Fran H. and Amanda for coming along and joining in the fun. And I don’t know what I would have done without Steven’s, Pamela’s and Anne’s encouragement and friendship these last few years; they helped to keep me sane through some pretty insane times.
I also would like to offer heartfelt thanks to Lorene and Carol for their incredible support. They know what they’ve done, and it’s been miraculous. And last but certainly not least, thanks to Matt for his generous work on the website, and to Erin, who loves me even though I’m weird.
ONE
Pia was blackmailed into committing a crime more suicidal than she could possibly have imagined, and she had no one to blame but herself.
Knowing that didn’t make it easier. She couldn’t believe she had been so lacking in good judgment, taste or sensibility.
Honestly, what had she done? She had taken one look at a pretty face and forgotten everything her mom had taught her about survival. It sucked so bad she might as well put a gun to her head and pull the trigger. Except she didn’t own a gun because she didn’t like them. Besides, pulling the trigger on a gun was pretty final. She had issues with commitment and she was so freaking dead anyway, so why bother.
A taxi horn blared. In New York the sound was so common everyone ignored it, but this time it made her jump. She threw a glance over one hunched shoulder.
Her life was in ruins. She would be on the run for the rest of her life, all fifteen minutes or so of it, thanks to her own foolish behavior and her
She stumbled into a narrow trash-strewn street by a Korean restaurant. She uncapped a liter-sized water bottle and chugged half of it down, one hand splayed on the cement wall while she watched the sidewalk traffic. Steam from the restaurant kitchen enveloped her in the rich red-pepper and soy scents of