Dragon's Legacy-ebook

            Looking like his Mexican mother, Jamie Jones struggles to find his place in an increasingly Anglo Tucson, Arizona Territory, in 1904. But his stubborn Welsh half is determined to be accepted, so he sets his sights on winning the affection of Miss Iris Crawford, an aloof beauty with motives of her own.

            Percy Kindall lives the life of a privileged rogue in San Diego—until the day of his father’s suicide. Percy’s only clue to motive is a letter sent to a mysterious Mrs. Reyna Jones in Tucson. When he arrives there, he recognizes a kindred spirit in Iris Crawford, and makes clandestine arrangements for their mutual satisfaction.

            Unaware of the avaricious manipulations of Miss Crawford, Jamie and Percy’s lives collide and intertwine in a web of secrets and destiny—a Dragon’s Legacy.

Excerpt:

Jamie looked around and sighed. People of all colors and sizes filled the grassy park. “Trying to spot anyone we know in this crowd might be well-nigh impossible.”

Then he saw her. She stood out, dressed all in white, brilliant in its unblemished purity. Her companions looked dowdy in comparison, though Jamie knew them to be the most popular and fashionable daughters of Tucson’s upper echelon. They made an impressive parade of wasp-waisted femininity, tightly bound in corsets and lace. They, too, headed dockside.

“I know, I see her,” Elin Jane muttered.

Jamie felt his stomach turn over and thought his supper would erupt should he open his mouth to speak. They approached the wooden walkway near the water as the twins ran, laughing, onto the dock.

“Ooh, look at me! I’m a fancy dancy!” Mags minced behind the society girls in an exaggerated imitation.

Jamie cringed. Iris Crawford didn’t pay a speck of attention, but one of the others did.

“Get away, you dirty brown brat.” Gertrude Dunbar, another new arrival to Tucson, sneered at Mags. “How dare you come near us!”

“Just ignore it,” Iris said. “They’re everywhere here—mangy little strays.”

Mags stopped and her jaw dropped open. “¡Pinchi gringa!”

“¡Tonta!” Marg yelled.

“Stuck up snob!” Sara Rae added.

Gertrude Dunbar closed her eyes and jutted her chin into the air in a supreme snub. The little curved heels of her fashionable button shoes caught in a gap between boards, and she tripped. The exaggerated S-shape of her corset forced her upper body to lean forward, top-heavy, and she could not overcome the momentum gravity exerted in such a posture. She stumbled along the uneven surface of the dock in a completely undignified manner and threw her parasol, barely missing Iris. Her arms circled, wildly spinning windmills, trying to find a point of balance. The harder she tried, the faster she staggered until she sprawled off of the front end of the dock into the lake, screaming. “Help, I can’t swim!”

Jamie stripped off his jacket and threw it at Elin Jane. He ran the length of the dock and dived into the murky water. No one else moved—no boats were near. Gertrude flailed and struggled, swallowing great gulps of water as increasingly sodden layers of undergarments and skirts weighed her down.

Three strokes and he reached her side. Gertrude fought him in blind terror, clawing at his head, gasping and gurgling as panic overwhelmed her senses.

“Stop, stop! I’m trying to help.” He wrapped one arm across her breasts to pin her upper arms against her body and swam toward the shore, pulling her along on her back to keep her face out of the water.

Helping hands pulled her from him, and Jamie was able to get to his feet in the mucky shallows. He wiped water from his face, slicking his hair back with both hands. Will ran close to the edge of firmer ground, offering a hand for stability. Jamie took it gladly.

“Arrest that scoundrel!” A round white man pointed at Jamie. A few long strands of brown hair lay combed over his balding pate and his face grew mottled with scarlet and purple rage. He threw a protective arm around his disheveled, sobbing, shivering daughter. “That filthy Mexican dared to lay hands on my Gertrude! You saw him! You all saw what he did! He groped her bosoms!”

Gasps of assent and murmurs of disagreement circled through the gathered crowd—

“Damn Mexicans take liberties whenever they can with white women.”

“He’s the only one what jumped in ta get ’er. I say it don’t make no diff’rence what he is.”

Jamie didn’t say a word. What good would it do? They saw only the color of his skin. His clothes were splattered with algae slime and mud. His new dress shirt, dotted with gunk and dead leaves, clung to his skin. Pulling his feet from the muck sounded like a horse’s fart and smelled nearly as bad. He looked up at the dock to see Iris Crawford frowning down at him like a queen upon a disgusting piece of filth. He turned away, embarrassed.

“I saw him save your girl’s life.” A tall man with a bushy white moustache said. “And he did a fine job of it, too, considering she was wailin’ like a banshee and no help a’tall.”

“Jamie! Are you all right?” Elin Jane pushed her way to the front of the crowd on the walkway, the younger girls behind her.

“You young ladies stay away from him!” Mr. Dunbar stuck out his

arm. “He’s a crazed Mexican pervert!”

“Don’t be silly,” Thomas said from Elin Jane’s side. “He’s perfectly sane.”