Morgan Hawke - Queen Of Dragons - Sorceress Seduction.pdf
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resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,
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Phantasy – One Erotic Tale from Phantasmagoria -
For your Individual Pleasure
Copyright © 2003 Morgan Hawke
ISBN: 1-55410-020-8
Cover art and design by Martine Jardin
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the
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Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya
Publications, 2003
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Morgan Hawke
Queen of Dragons
Sorceress Seduction
blue and gold banner emblazoned with a
clawing white lion snapped in the wind above
the War Duke’s head. From the height of the
ridge, his golden eyes watched the carnage of the
battle that had shifted from the ridge to the valley
below. His great black war-horse shuddered under
him, excited by the scent of blood and death. The
massive stallion pawed the bloodied earth, jingling
his bit, his armored sides heaving. The horses of his
accompanying troops shied nervously under their
armored riders as they stood arrayed about him to
either side.
A
The War Duke’s eyes were drawn to the opposite
ridge of the blood-drenched valley, where a woman
battled ferociously atop a screaming fire-red stallion.
Even in her crimson armor with its fanged dragon
helmet, there was no mistaking the feminine curves.
She lashed out at her attackers with uncanny speed
and deadly accuracy.
The War Duke pushed his helmet visor up to get a
clearer view of the woman. She looked like a red
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Queen of Dragons
dragon in female form, the gilded scales of her armor
glittering in the dying sunlight, her scarlet cloak
flying about her like wings. Her sword flashed with
the unmistakable glint of blue steel. The hilt was set
with a stone that caught the dying sun's light and
blazed crimson. No one could stand against her.
Obviously an artist had made that scaled suit of steel
for her alone. It hugged her curves and moved as
easily as flesh.
The War Duke whistled as he sat atop his restless
stallion. “My god, she’s magnificent!”
“Where in the seven Hells did the Boar find her?”
one of the captains exclaimed.
The War Duke narrowed his eyes. “I can’t tell what
family she comes from, her shield is too smeared with
blood to see what’s on it. She has to come from good
family, though, I think that’s a ruby in her sword.
Nothing else would glow that bright in sunlight.”
“God in heaven! She just cut that soldier in half!”
said another.
“That’s not a woman. That’s a she-demon conjured
from the pits of hell,” said a grizzled older captain.
“Look at her, she fights with more than the strength
of a man.”
“I heard that the woman is supposed to be a
sorceress called the Wyvrn, a fell creature born of
magic, both woman and dragon,” remarked one of
the war duke's lieutenants. “Her armor is made from
the enchanted skin of a dragon.”
“I heard that she was conjured by a powerful
Sorcerer during the Age of Legends.” One of the War
Duke’s younger captains nudged his stallion closer. “I
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Morgan Hawke
also heard tell that the Boar struck a deal with a devil
for her.”
“A sorceress wearing a dragon’s skin for armor?”
He laughed. “The Wyvrn is a creature of myth.” The
War Duke smiled grimly. “This woman is just a
formidable warrior in a clever suit of steel.” The War
Duke looked about at his doubtful Captains. “I will
hear no more talk of sorceresses.”
The armored roan the woman rode trumpeted a
challenge, then reared on his hind legs, pawing the
smoke-tainted air with bladed steel-shod hooves. The
woman moved in perfect time with her infuriated
mount. Her sword struck like lightning at the tide of
men surging all around her. The roan suddenly spun
in a circle, hooves slashing and teeth snapping.
Horses bucked fighting their riders, trying to get
away from her inhuman fury and her demonic
stallion.
The War Duke felt a stirring in his breeches at the
sight of her dancer’s grace and exquisite control over
her screaming mount. His mind filled with images of
himself wrapped in her powerful thighs, battling to
ride her to submission.
“When we win this battle, I want the woman
brought to me if she still lives,” the War Duke
ordered his men.
They rolled their eyes, but saluted their obedience.
Smoke shifted across the battlefield, obscuring the
War Duke’s view of the sword-woman. He snapped
his visor down over his face and shouted to his
troops. As one unit, they charged down the
embankment to join the battle, trumpets blazing and
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