Dragon Cussler Novel Novels & Stories

Flavius wades through the crowd of dragons until he comes upon a SpitFire much smaller than the rest. Her scales are a brilliant lilac compared to the deep violet of the other SpitFires. She slowly approaches Flavius sniffing his outstretched hand. Flavius uncurls his fingers, reaching for her head. In one swift movement, her jaws snap down on Flavius's hand. He lets out a yelp of surprise but does not try to pull his hand away. Blood drips from the mouth of the small SpitFire. She makes no move to rip Flavius's arm off, which is a good sign.

Daniel grabs the butcher by the hair, pushing his face into the wooden table. "I suggest you start addressing your king with some respect." Daniels's voice is gruff, coming out almost animalistic. Looking closely at him, I see a glow to his eyes that I have never seen before. Rage is coming off him in waves. I study his demeanor for a moment before it hits me, the glow in his eyes is just like that of a raging dragon. Dragons when upset their eyes take on a deep glow.

She wouldn’t even entertain the chance to think about being near them. She quickly checked the messages on the phone, said goodbye to Mathew and Mike, again and turned it off. She pulled a book out of her purse and she didn't even notice when they took off. "What are you reading, if I may ask, ma’am?" Her companion's voice snapped her out from her ‘literature land’. She looked at him from behind the glasses. “A novel.” She replied but realized that she was being rude. "A book written by a well-known American adventure writer, Clive Cussler." She said in a slightly more pleasant tone.

Drago had a death grip on her arm, trying to calm her, but who could be calm at a time like this? The golden beast lumbered toward them, then stopped directly in front of Drago, letting out a low growl, steam puffing from it’s huge nostrils. When Drago growled in return, Madchen jumped, trying to free herself from Drago’s grip, but he wasn’t letting her go.

"Since that's the case, then I think I should inform you Cassidy liked to torture her preys before finally killing them. She buried a lot of people like me to suffer us then kill us at her leisure time. Fortunately for us and unfortunately for her, she was killed off and it took a few decades for the spellbinding us to the grave to loosen." As soon as Chad finished, Crassus walked into the room. Upon seeing the look on his face, Drexa knew something was off. "What is it?" "Someone crept into the compound and stole a relic and the body of Terry." Crassus reported. "Which of the relics?" She asked. "The little dragon you often kept with your precious things." Drexa froze. The relic she used in

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks." Casey handed over her loyalty card, still distracted by the strange man. "Double shot today, please. Covering Mika's shift." "Rough," Prisha sympathised, punching in the order. "Hey, did you ever finish that dragon book you were working on? My niece is obsessed with dragons lately." Casey's attention snapped back. "Still working on it. Turns out writing a novel while working at fast food isn't the productivity hack they advertise."

He cleared her curiosity, only to further deepen it, her mouth hanging ajar. "Dragon? There's a dragon in the castle?" Elira blurted, emphasizing the word 'dragon' to make sure Kaelric understood the extent of what he was telling her. He shook his head at the silly girl in front of him, lifting a finger to close her agape mouth."We are Dragonbloods for a reason." "How many things don't I know about you?" Her face crinkled in deep thought, like she could possess the power to read him.

Rows of towering bookshelves stretched up into the darkness, accessible only by rickety rolling ladders that looked like skeletons. Tristan and Saoirse moved through the main stacks like ghosts. The librarians—hunched, robed figures with goggles sewn into their hoods—were busy cataloging a new shipment of stolen scrolls from the Dragon Kingdom. They didn't look up as the Prince and his servant slipped past the main desk and into the shadows of the rear alcove. They reached a heavy iron door set into the stone wall. It had no handle, only a keyhole shaped like a screaming mouth.

"That bitch had the softest boobs!" Another roar of laughter filled the room. I placed a piece of beef into my mouth and chewed slowly, the taste bland on my tongue. Dolores makes the best homemade steak. But my taste buds died a long time ago. My eyes lifted and met Cruz’s. He didn’t look away, he just smiled. Then he set down his fork and knife and cleared his throat. The table quieted. The rest of the men straightened in their seats and turned to him. “El Cuervo,” Cruz began. “Thank you for having us over.”