Storm Forged by Lindsay Buroker

Storm Forged

Storm Forged by Lindsay Buroker (Death Before Dragons #6)
English | 2020| Fantasy | ePUB | 2.9 MB

Lindsay is a full-time independent fantasy author who loves travel, hiking, tennis, and vizslas. She grew up in the Seattle area but moved to Arizona when she realized she was solar-powered.

Moving into a rundown Victorian house with a vampire living in the basement isn’t as bad as I thought, but things go from weird to weirder when a badly injured gnome collapses in my back yard.
The surprising part? It’s my friend Nin’s long-lost grandfather.
Since he’s unconscious, we can’t figure out who’s chasing him, or where he’s been all these years, but if we can’t help him, he’ll die.
To make matters worse, there’s a new dragon in town. A female dragon. Everyone knows females are more dangerous than the males, and this one takes an instant dislike to me. It seems that she wants to date my mate, Zav, and has his mother’s approval.
If I can’t avoid her wrath and find a way to cure the gnome, Nin’s going to lose her grandfather, and I’m going to end up deader than the vampire in the basement.

I hope that wasn’t the roar that makes your enemies wet themselves, because we just got the back yard looking respectable. Pee stains on the patio aren’t cool.

“It hasn’t been a simple matter to determine which charm does that.” Freysha moved the genie lamp aside and picked up three other trinkets from the collection. Unlike the elegant bronze, silver, gold, and ivory charms, these were a mishmash of tiny pieces of warped metal and rocks that looked to have been smashed together into lopsided balls by pliers and then glued into place with resin or pitch. They were as attractive as gum stuck to the bottom of one’s shoe. “It may be one of these.”

“Don’t even suggest that. There’s no way I’m moving Sindari’s charm aside to put one of those around my neck.”

“I know what the elven ones do without even researching them.” Freysha pointed to two silver charms she’d already set aside. “I’m familiar with the magic of my people. And I believe those two dwarven trinkets are designed to help you become a better crafter.”

“Guess I’ll give those to Dimitri and Nin. I already make wicked friendship bracelets out of thread. No need for magical enhancement.”

Freysha’s eyebrows drifted north again, and I reminded myself that she hadn’t been on Earth for long and didn’t have a frame of reference for my jokes. I should save my sarcasm for those who could appreciate it. Though I wasn’t entirely positive anyone appreciated it. Zav only liked it when I turned my sharp tongue on his enemies.

“I will keep studying these,” Freysha said.

“Thanks. I really do appreciate your help. And your help with the magic lessons too.”

I waved toward the sunroom—Dimitri insisted on calling it a conservatory, but that was a lofty name for a drafty greenhouse full of cracked glass—where we’d been having our morning practice sessions. Each lesson started with me sticking my fingers into dirt and helping Freysha pot plants, but as surprising as it seemed, I was learning how to use the magic that had been flowing through my veins unbeknownst to me my whole life. I couldn’t do anything cool yet, like levitate or hurl fireballs, but I was getting better at speaking telepathically to others and keeping intruders out of my mind.

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