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  • Writer's pictureKryssie Fortune

5 Facts about Dragon Killers

In England we've just celebrated Saint George's day. He's the country's patron saint and he fought dragons. This hilltop below the hill figure of the Uffington White horse is known as Dragon hill. The permenant bald spot is supposedly caused by the spilling of Dragon blood.

Saint Margaret of Anioch was so beautiful she put Helen of Troy to shame. A randy Roman wanted her to renouce her faith so he could make her his. When she refused he imprisoned her. While in prison the devil visited her disguised as a dragon and swallowed her whole

When she made the sign of the cross, his belly bust open and she walked out.

Image Saint Margaret of Antioch by Peter Candid (second half of the 16th century).

Phillip the Apostle visited Hierapolis in Turkey when the devil in the form of a dragon sprang at him. It overcame spectators with its breath. Some were so ill they passed out close to death. Philip faced the dragon "Believe ye me and break this idol and set in his place the cross of Jesus Christ and after, worship ye it, and they that be here dead shall revive, and all the sick people shall be made whole." And they were

An interesting footnote is a sulfur filled cave was unearthed adjacent to Hierapolis is . Also, Philip is reputedly buried there.

Not all Dragon Slayers are appreciated. Theodore the Matyr killed a dragon, but the Roman Emperor Licinius wasn't pleased. Maybe he wanted the dragon for a pet, or something. He ordered Theodore's corpse beheaded. Eventualy his headless body arrived in Venice where his feat was commemerated with a statue.

Statue of St Theodore on western column in Piazzetta in Venice

The book of Revelation states. "And there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought with his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven" (Rev. 12:7). St MIcheal commands the Army of God and will lead the Angels as they battle a seven headed dragon. Each head represents one of the deadly sins.

A hand coloured version of a picture of Michael Killing the Dragon by Albrecht Durerin.

In each of these battles the dragon personifies the devil. Not all dragons are evil, though.

In my book To Break a Warrior King's Curse, there's the cutest baby dragon who fixates on the heroine. Even my editor fell in love with him.

Blurb - To Break a Warrior KIng's Curse.

Leonidas, the Fae King inherited his father’s curse along with his throne. If he doesn’t bed a different woman each month, he’ll go insane. So far, that’s not been a chore.

Banished to the human world, Meena never developed her powers. When she befriends a lost baby war-dragon, she attracts Leonidas’s attention. While he’s attracted to her, he despises witches for the way their curse destroyed his family.

Since Meena’s his mate, he only wants her in his bed. Madness beckons, but his curse turns him subhuman. It mauls any other female who offers herself to him. All it wants is Meena naked in its bed. If his hatred hasn’t already driven her away, will she survive his inner beast’s attentions?

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Meet Lipstick (Excerpt)

“That’s my bloody dragon!” The Fae stalked across the cliff top, his emerald shirt billowing beneath his black leather waistcoat. “And I will be having him back.”

Meena’s curls tumbled over her shoulders, an ebony waterfall streaked with rainbow colors. She’d come up to the abbey ruins for solitude and peace, and as usual, she’d found it. Unless you counted the little lost dragonet at her feet. A large dog would have dwarfed him, but he was definitely the cutest otherworld creature she’d ever seen. And now his owner wanted him back.

She glanced over her shoulder toward the main entrance to see who’d provoked the Fae’s fury. There wasn’t another soul to be seen, which meant…

Sweet Hekate. He’s yelling at me.

Okay, her life was… Well, it wasn’t good, but no one snarled at her like that. Meena clenched her fists and squared her shoulders while the dragonet rested his head on his paws and took another bite of her sandwich.

The Fae’s arrogance chafed, but she refused to take her anger out on the dragonet. The way he mewled and flopped down at feet made her smile.

Meena removed her gloves and fondled his pointy ears. “Cheer up, Lipstick. daddy’s come to take you home. What a pity he didn’t take better care of you in the first place.”

“Lipstick?” The Fae warrior thundered. "You named a powerful war dragon Lipstick. He should bear a noble name like Dreadnought or Valiant.”

With his uptight expression, corded muscle, and stiff spine, he had to be Fae royalty. That didn’t bode well for an outcast like her.

Meena smiled her professional customer-service smile—the one that had let her down earlier. “But he's the same color as my new lipstick. Scarlet Kisses, see?”

She brandished it like a talisman, expecting smoke to come out of this overbearing Fae’s ears. How satisfying was that? Whenever Fae passed through Whitby, they dissed her completely—but that wasn’t always a bad thing. Eight years ago, when her powers didn’t manifest at puberty, the Witch Council put a price on her head. Her mother moved them to the mundane world, but it had taken Meena forever to adjust to life in Whitby. A life without magic.

Despite his bad temper, the Fae’s sculptured cheekbones and kissable lips made a dangerous combination—one she struggled to resist. His voice flowed over her like melted chocolate. She loved how he’d braided his hair back in a neat queue at the nape of his neck, and now he stood like a Spanish hidalgo—all uptilted chin, disdainful pride, and gleaming white fangs. How dare he look down his nose at her? Carved of granite and steel, he radiated menace. Definitely not as cute as his dragon. More mouthwateringly masculine, but otherworld creatures usually dissed a reject like her.

She stared at the bullwhip coiled Indiana Jones-style at his narrow waist, then at the black-handled dagger sheathed on his right hip. An obsidian rapier—Fae-forged and unbreakable—almost merged with one of the taped seams that ran down the sides of his pants. He even wore a dagger gunslinger-style at his hip. Dear Goddess, the man was a walking arsenal, but he was sexy as hell.

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