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Manhattan Dragon Cover
Deadly secrets.
Hidden enemies.
Colliding histories.

She’s supposed to be dead.

For Rowan Valor, faking her own death is a regular necessity. How else would an immortal dragon manage to live in a place like Manhattan for close to three hundred years? But changing her identity leaves the community center she founded vulnerable and, for the sake of the children, she must find a way to undo the damage.

He’s leading a new life.

Human detective Nick Grandstaff entered law enforcement to escape his violent roots.
But closing the door on his past has resulted in an unnatural obsession with his work. Perhaps it’s for the best that his longest relationship has been with his dog. What woman would choose to be with someone with such a dark and tangled history?

To have a future together, both must face their pasts.

When Nick investigates a case that leads him to Rowan’s door, their passionate
connection promises to heal old wounds and grant them both the once in a lifetime love they deserve. But fighting a common enemy entangles them in the dangerous supernatural underworld of Manhattan, where power is shifting and, unbeknownst to Rowan, a former ally has become a deadly enemy.

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Rowan turned her head to find an NYPD badge in front of her
face and a man staring down at her from a considerable height. Her stomach did
a strange little flip. Detective Nick Grandstaff’s steely gaze held the
intensity of a thousand blazing suns. She white-knuckled the edge of the
counter. It wasn’t the badge that sent a wave of anxiety through her chest. It
was Harriet’s warning. What if his strong mind resisted the serum?

“Can I help you?”

“Did you notice a man in here earlier, about five foot six
inches tall, white-blond hair, slight build?”

“No.” It was hard to speak. Her tongue had swollen in her
mouth and grown uncomfortably dry. She uncrossed and crossed her legs against
the building tension between them and forced herself to blink. She ended up
fluttering her eyelashes. Damn, she
had, hadn’t she? She’d fluttered her eyelashes at the detective like a draconic
Betty Boop.

“Okay. Thanks.” His eyes narrowed. “Have we met before? You
seem familiar.”

“No,” she answered quickly. Too quickly. She shook her head.
By the Mountain, she sounded guilty. She reined it in and smiled. Too many
teeth. She stopped smiling.

“You’ve never been by the twenty-fourth precinct?”

“No.” A sharp inhale parted her lips. She’d been to the
nineteenth precinct when she was arrested, but that was another identity,
another name, another face. “No, I don’t think we’ve ever met before.” She
forced herself to drink some ice water. “I’d remember you,” she added under her

“Oh.” Nick nodded.

There was a clunk and scrape as the server slid Rowan’s
pancakes in front of her and focused on Nick. “Can I get you something,

“Coffee. Black. To go.” Nick’s eyes never left Rowan’s face.

“So, uh, what did this blond guy you’re looking for do?”

His crooked grin revealed a chipped molar she found
positively endearing. “Just need to ask him some questions.”

“In other words, it’s none of my business.” She rested her
chin on her fist.

That crooked grin flashed again, and Rowan almost fell off
her stool. She took another sip of ice water.

“Are you sure we haven’t met?” He scratched the side of his

Rowan gulped. The man emitted his own gravity. How could he
be human? “Do you make it a habit to approach women in diners and ask them if
you’ve met before? It seems like a line better suited for a bar.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve told you we haven’t met, twice now.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “What’s your name?”


“Nick.” He leaned a hand against the counter beside her plate,
never touching but close enough to set her heart racing. The server returned
with a to-go cup and dropped it in front of him.

“Now that we’ve met, maybe we should get to know each other
better. Have coffee.”

“You already have coffee.”

“Dinner then.”

She looked down at her ring, the ruby a blood-red reminder
of why she needed to stop flirting with this man and eat her breakfast. She was
a dragon, and she’d wiped his memories last night. Spending time with him could
only lead to disaster.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

About Genevieve Jack

USA Today bestselling author Genevieve Jack writes wild, witty,
and wicked-hot paranormal romance and fantasy. Coffee and wine are her biofuel, the love lives of witches, shifters, and vampires her  favorite topic of conversation. She harbors a passion for old cemeteries and ghost tours, thanks to her years attending a high school rumored to be haunted. Although originally from the Midwest, she adores
the beaches of the southeast, where she spends her days with her
laptop and one lazy dog.

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