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BOOK BLAST: The Dragon King’s Assassin by Amy Sumida (Excerpt)

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Dragon King’s Assassin

Author: Amy Sumida

Publisher: Imaginary Worlds INC

Cover Artist: Amy Sumida

Release Date: June 24, 2022

Genres: MM Fantasy, Paranormal, Shifters

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Fated mates

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 349 pages

It’s the first book in The Dragons of Serai Series. Each book features a new couple. 

 It does not end on a cliffhanger.

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My life changed the day I tried to take his.

Blurb 

Mhavenna is a glorious city but, like every city on the face of Serai, it’s run by Dragons. As a human, I’m on the lowest rung of the racial ladder here, as far from an illustrious Dragon as I could be, and I’ve made my peace with that. I don’t like Dragons much, but like or dislike has nothing to do with my work. So when my broker offered me the task of killing the Dragon King, I took it. It was the sort of kill that could make an assassin’s career, and I was certain that I had the skills for it.

I was wrong, nearly dead wrong.

The King caught me before I could finish the job, but instead of killing me, he made me his. I’m now the Dragon King’s assassin. A warning and a weapon. A way for him to bypass his own laws without personally breaking them. But that’s not all. He’s tasked me with guarding him against future attacks. Who better to stop an assassin than another assassin? And who better to find the one who hired us? If only the King didn’t have a body that made me salivate, a face that made my knees weak, and a pair of teal eyes that made me whimper. If only he didn’t stare at me with those stunning eyes as if I could be more than property to him. Maybe then I could do my job, find the person who wants him dead, and save my own life. But I don’t believe in miracles.

Excerpt 

 Once I reached the terrace, I freed my wrists and crawled over the railing to land on the soles of my soft leather boots, quiet as a cat. Despite the windows to either side of the balcony remaining dark, I dropped to my belly and slithered to the solid doors. Pressing my ear to the crack between the double doors, I heard the soft sounds of even breathing and smiled. I carefully rose into a crouch and pulled the lock-picking tools out of my vest.

A few seconds later, I was opening one of the balcony doors and slipping around it. I shut it just as quickly and quietly, blocking out the moonlight to give me more shadows to hide in, then stood pressed against the wall while my eyes adjusted. I was only a human, after all. I didn’t have the night vision of the other races of Racul.

When the bed came into focus, the dark mound of the sleeping king atop it, I removed my weapon. As it was with all my tools, the metal of the slim tube was blackened without gloss. It was a simple device, one that many assassins preferred for its precision, speed, and silent execution. Execution being the keyword. The problem was, it was a weapon that required proximity to your target. The barrel had to be pressed against the victim’s head—anywhere on the head, but I tried to go for the base, somewhere under the chin or at the top of the spine in back—and then the pointed rod within the tube could be released. Death was instantaneous, even for an immortal Dragon. Immortal, they may be, but not invulnerable.

Did I care that killing King Tarocvar Verres would throw the entire Kingdom of Racul into chaos? That although there was some satisfaction in taking the life of one of those elitist assholes—the head elitist asshole—another Dragon would inevitably take his place. Did it bother me that this man had done some good for the kingdom and his replacement might fuck things up?

Nah. I’m an asshole too.

I crept up to the enormous bed, heading for the side he was closest to—the left. My left. The King slept on his side, curled up like a baby. Not that his position made him any less intimidating. Even asleep, the Dragon King exuded power that sent shivers down my spine. I’d studied him long enough to know his body nearly as intimately as a lover, had spent many nights watching him bathe, dress, and fuck.

I could bring an image of the King’s body to mind in a second—a very detailed image of bulging muscles and golden-brown skin. Of long hair as black as midnight that gleamed crimson in the light, glittering teal eyes so bright that they seemed to glow, and a jaw that could crush rocks. But I’d never been this close to him. So close that I could smell the spice of his skin and see the cleft in his chin—a little dent, as if he had indeed tried to crush rocks with it. Damn, he was handsome. Fucking breathtaking. What a shame.

Just as I leaned forward to set the weapon beneath the royal cleft chin, those stunning eyes shot open and focused on me. The King knocked away my weapon before locking his strong hand around my throat.

A deep rumble vibrated through the air between us. “Hello, little mouse. Have you come to play?”

About the Author 

Amy Sumida is the Internationally Acclaimed author of the Award-Winning Godhunter Series, the fantasy paranormal Twilight Court Series, the Beyond the Godhunter Series, the music-oriented paranormal Spellsinger Series, the superhero Spectra Series, the Gay Fantasy Romance Soul Stone Series, the Gay Paranormal Romance Tales of the Beneath Series, the Gay Fantasy Romance Dragons of Serai Series, the Gay Why Choose Romance Wraith Lords Series, and several short stories. Her books have been translated into several languages, have won numerous awards, and are bestsellers. She believes in empowering people through her writing as well as providing everyone with a great escape from reality. Her stories are full of strong main characters paired with hot gods, shapeshifters, vampires, dragons, fairies, gargoyles… pretty much any type of supernatural, breathtakingly gorgeous man you can think of. Because why have normal when you could have paranormal?

Born and raised in Hawaii, Amy made a perilous journey across the ocean with six cats to settle in the beautiful state of Oregon which reminds her a lot of Hawaii but without the cockroaches or evil sand. When she isn’t trying to type fast enough to keep up with the voices in her head while ignoring the kitties trying to sabotage her with cuteness, she enjoys painting on canvases, walls, and anything else that will sit still long enough for the paint to dry. She’s fueled by tea, inspired by music, and spends most of her time lost in imaginary worlds.

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