Dragon Soul

Dragon Fall

Book 3
Sold by Forever

"DRAGON SOUL is one entertaining read full of great characters and emotions. ...Katie MacAlister proves why she is on this readers auto buy with this latest book. It had me laughing out loud at times and betting on love at others." --Fresh Fiction, Top Pick


Sophea Long knows that escorting her octogenarian client to Europe will be an adventure. Mrs. P has a habit of stealing anything shiny, and the former "hoochikoo dancer" is a lot faster than she looks. But Sophea hadn't counted on Mrs. P leading her right into the arms of a smoldering, dark-haired stranger who kisses like a dream. If only he'd give up all this nonsense about Sophea being some kind of dragon...


There's a reason Rowan Dakar is known as the Dragon Breaker. The last thing he needs is to fall for a woman who literally sets him aflame every time they kiss. After all, he has a mission-one that will finally free him of dragonkin for good. He can't afford to be distracted by the funniest, most desirable woman he's ever set eyes on. But no prophecy in the world can ever stop true love . . .
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More by Katie MacAlister

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6 total

Additional Information

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Published on
Mar 29, 2016
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Fiction / Romance / Erotica
Fiction / Romance / Fantasy
Fiction / Romance / Paranormal / General
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Content Protection
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Available on Android devices
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Eligible for Family Library

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Empusa, an Erinyes, is a creature of passion and lust who must grab the soul of an Earther to serve the demon’s war against the Seraphim. The Earther is more than he seems, at times harsh, others gentle. She takes his virginity and easily ensnares his heart. What she didn’t count on is the reverse would also come true, waking her long dormant heart to her submissive desires.

There's a sensation of moving through mud, like my body is both infinitely heavy and weightless all at once. Then I'm thrust out the other side, taking in the differences of Earth; The slightly higher gravity, the lack of ash in the air you breathe.

And the cold. I cover up my naked form with my arms and wings, shivering.

The robed figure stands stunned. I do believe he's stopped breathing. Slowly I unfurl my wings and do my best to look impressive. I'm standing on a pentagram drawn with ram's blood. Only ram's blood will do, because of some loophole in demonic law. As long as I'm in the pentagram, I'm technically under his power. I have to answer any questions he has, and use my powers to the best of my ability at his command. However, there's not much one can do within a circle, and here lies the con of demonic summoning.

The summoner thinks he is in control, and can make pacts with the demons he summons. However, these pacts are open to interpretation, often to the detriment of the foolish mortal who made them. Once, for example, a soldier summoned a Baalor to 'watch his back' in combat. The Baalor did just that—he watched while his back was stabbed three times.

However, I've been instructed to play it straight with this boy. Man, really, I see as he doffs his hood. I'm faced with a handsome, high cheek-boned specimen of adulthood. Even beneath his robe—which is of authentic goat's fur, I note—I can tell he's physically fit. That, combined with him being rich should make him too busy with the ladies to bother with something as involved as demonic summoning.

“Who has summoned Empusa, Mistress of Hell?”

“I, Ron Williams, Master sorcerer, have summoned thee,” he says, waving his arms. “I beseech thee and command thee to bend thy demonic might for my will.”

“Look, son, you don't have to talk like that,” I say, suppressing a giggle.

“I—uh, of course I don't!” He points his finger at me. “I would make pact with you, demon!”

“Ah, yes, a pact.” I lean forward, leering at him, until I come close to the invisible barrier separating us. It glows a dull red. “And what are the terms of this pact?”

Smugly, he withdraws a scroll from inside the robe.

“I, Ron son of Job, hereby immediately and for a period of no more than one hundred years, bind this demon as my slave. She will obey me in all things, and serve me in all things.”

The scroll bursts into flames, which I don't think he was expecting. I'm laughing hysterically while he runs about his living room, waving the burning sleeves of his robes. Finally he drags the garment off and tosses it into his bathtub.

“Stop laughing at me,” he says. I stop, though I still snicker. “Come out of the pentagram.”

“I cannot appear on Earth in my True Form. I must needs adopt a mortal form.”

“Then adopt one.”

“So be it.”

I close my eyes and imagine myself as I appear in my true form. Slowly, I make changes, taking away my horns, my wings, and my hooves, straightening my legs, and lightening my skin. Then I say the word of power, and I am transformed.

I look much like I did when I died at the tender age of 22—except, of course, that I'm naked. As I step over the line of blood, I can see him licking his lips as he examines my body.

“Does it meet with Master's approval?”

He flinches like I've struck him. Swallowing, he looks squarely at my breasts and then my eyes.

“What did you just call me?”


He closes his eyes tightly.

“Say that again.”
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