Hooked on First Change, Would he Stay? #MFRWhooks

The dragshi are more than just a man or woman. Each are two beings–one a dragon, the other a human–sharing one body in space in time and able to change forms with the other at will. Their world and the adventures of the dragon shifters are recorded in the Dragshi Chronicles

Within each of the chronicles, the ceoltiers, the keepers of the past and teachers of the present, recount some legend. As with all such tales, some contain larger than life deeds. Others are the simple story of a man or woman doing what must be done, regardless of the cost. First Change features the real story behind the legends told in the previous volumes.  

About the legend of the Unknown Patient:  Etianne was trapped by duty and loyalty to her kin. Her caravan needed a healer and she was it. Hopes for more blossomed at the discovery of a wounded man in the middle of the trail. When he woke, he had no memory of his wounds--or his past.

Excerpt:

Etianne’s gaze roamed the gathering, searching for Falamn. Unerringly, she turned to the small group gathered at the far side of the fire. Fire rose up her neck. He wasn’t alone. Even worse, each of the dozen women clustered around him, vying for his attention, wore the flowers of someone looking for a mate.

Despite her intention to not intrude on the group, his presence drew him. She sighed, and unable to resist, started towards him. Her light tread silent on the soft carpet of short grass, she slipped around the edge of the dancers and walked up behind him. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak.

Aylmar and two men carrying guitars climbed the two steps onto the raised platform. The musicians sat down, legs hanging over the edge, and settled their instruments on their laps. The ceoltier stepped forward and raised his hands for silence. “By special request, a couple’s dance. Ladies, select your partners.” His call rolled over the crowd as he pinned a man here and another there with a stern glare. “And men, accept it graciously.”

Etianne held her breath. She could ask Falamn to dance. Still, she did not speak. Elsewhere giggling girls grabbed their victims by the hand and led their serious-faced partners out onto the dance floor while married couples moved more sedately into position.

Falamn whispered to the women gathered around him. For some reason, the disappointment on their faces gave her a sense of pleasure. They walked away and only she and Falamn remained.

“I understand by custom, here the woman asks the man to dance.”

With Falamn’s voice in her ear, Etianne realized he had turned and now stood in front of her. His eyes peered into hers. “As I am not of the village, I follow my own customs. And that means choosing who I care to dance with.” His eyes twinkled and he extended a hand in formal greeting. “Etianne, would you do me the honor?”

All the disappointment of the day vanished, and, not trusting her voice, she just nodded. Her fingers resting lightly on his arm, he led her to an open space amongst the gathered couples.

“I warn you, I’m not much of a dancer,” Falamn said. He lightened his voice and grinned, “I hope you wore riding boots.” Looking into her eyes, he pulled her close as the musicians began the opening bars of a lyrical slow tune known as “Wings O’er The Moor.”

Falamn lied, Etianne thought. Despite his claims of not knowing how to dance, he not only was light on his feet, he moved well in time to the music. Etianne gave herself into the moment, letting it carry her away. She swore no other night would ever be as magical. Nothing existed except the thump of her heart and the man in her arms. Enthralled, she didn’t even notice when one song stopped and the next began, or when another group of musicians took the stage.

A beam of moonlight cut through the trees, casting Falamn in shadow. Sorrow darkened the world. No matter if all the time I have with Falamn is just this one moment, it will be a lifetime. Etianne dared not think of the morning—or the one after that. For all too soon Falamn’s memory would return and he would leave her.

Even if he stays with the caravan, nothing will be the same, her heart cried.
 
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Additional excerpts from the three novellas (and two bonus short stories) in First Change.