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334 pages, Hardcover
First published February 5, 2013
Ever since she was a child, Isabella was obsessed, absolutely obsessed, with dragons.
One benefit of being an old woman now, and moreover one who has been called a "national treasure," is that there are very few who can tell me what I may and may not
No gentleman would want a wife covered in scars from misadventures with dangerous beasts.Nowadays she's known as Lady Trent, a world renowned Dragonologist, but she wasn't always quite so well-known...or even well-liked.
"You want me for my library."And so she marries Jacob, someone who respected her eccentricities, but the newlyweds soon realize life isn't as simple as expected.
"I don't need luxury, Jacob; I don't need pampering."And so she secures a position for herself and her husband to participate in an exhibition to far off lands, Vystrana, to study the elusive and mysterious rock-wyrm.
But as so often happened during this exhibition, nothing went as planned.She is about to discover a whole new world - and change her own forever.
Sheep eat grass, wolves eat deer, dragons eat everything that doesn't run away fast enough.The only thing that bugged me was that there was a little less dragons and a little more politics than I expected.
“The dragon within my heart stirred, shifting her wings, as if remembering they could be used to fly.”
“Be warned, then: the collected volumes of this series will contain frozen mountains, foetid swamps, hostile foreigners, hostile fellow countrymen, the occasional hostile family member, bad decisions, misadventures in orienteering, diseases of an unromantic sort, and a plenitude of mud.”
Be warned, then: the collected volumes of this series will contain frozen mountains, foetid swamps, hostile foreigners, hostile fellow countrymen, the occasional hostile family member, bad decisions, misadventures in orienteering, diseases of an unromantic sort, and a plentitude of mind. You continue at your own risk. It is not for the faint of heart–no more so than the study of dragons itself.
She was tall and of that build we so politely call “strapping” and applaud when found in peasant folk, with strong features and a wealth of dark hair.
If I was going to have a ham-handed Vystrani woman doing up my buttons, at least it would be the ham-handed woman I knew, rather than a stranger.