My Asian Dragon

You can read My Asian Dragon free below.

Blurb:

A BWAM, dragon shifter romance story.

Part 1 in the Dragon Tales series.

Joy is a daring journalist with an eye for uncovering the truth, and always on the lookout for the next big story.

Longwei presides over a remote village with secrets of his own.

Soon, their lives will intertwine in a tale of mystery and magic.

While investigating the feared Chinese mafia, the Triad, Joy uncovers a mysterious village that remains conspicuously off their radar.

But when she delves into the secrets behind the village, what she finds is beyond belief.

The village leader, Longwei, possesses the extraordinary ability to transform into a dragon, protecting his people from any external threats, including the Triad.

Amidst mounting dangers and their growing attraction, Joy and Longwei must navigate a path that entangles her journalistic integrity with his mystical duties.

But Longwei’s abilities are no longer a secret.

How will he manage the situation, especially since Joy cannot simply leave and expose his supernatural existence?

Will their burgeoning relationship survive the storm of challenges they face?

Discover now in this interracial, paranormal romance novel by R S Holloway.

Chapter 1

The pulse raced in Joy Roberts’ veins as she hid behind the dumpster. It was a seedy alleyway, hardly what she would have expected for a meeting between a Triad representative and the official in charge of organized crime for the Shanghai government, but then again, it was oddly fitting. Wen Fulong had been appointed to his position only weeks ago by the central Chinese government, and had made headlines by swearing to finally tackle the corruption and crime within Shanghai. However, as this meeting proved, the supposed super cop from Beijing was just as dirty as almost every other official she had investigated so far in China.

Joy filmed another thirty seconds of footage, enough for her story, before shutting off the camera and pulling further back into the shadows. It was a dangerous enough job, investigating the connections between the Triad and the central government. She knew she was making enemies on both sides of Chinese law, and if it wasn’t for the fact she was waiting to release the worst evidence until after she was out of the country, she knew she could end up “missing.” She had seen it happen before.

Pulling a stinking piece of cardboard over her head to fully camouflage herself, Joy wondered again just what had led her to accepting the assignment to China. Actually, she knew what it was. Graduating from Georgetown with a degree in journalism five years ago, she quickly found that for black women like her, the big networks and media outlets had preconceived notions of what she could do. She could do sports, “local affairs,” or cultural pieces, which was media industry doublespeak for “black people stories.” If she moved further south, with her looks she could also land a gig as one of the talking heads on the nightly news, or be a weather girl.

But for Joy, the reason she went into journalism wasn’t to cover football, do fluff pieces on Girl Scout bake sales, or be the token voice every time Black History Month rolled around. She went into journalism because she was born and raised in Washington D.C., and even at a young age recognized the power that flowed through the halls of Congress. She wanted to be the voice covering those stories, not just for black people, but for all people. Unfortunately for her, the only media outlets that were initially willing to give her a chance were the “black media” such as Essence, JET, or BET. While she had no particular biases against them, she knew that once she accepted a staff job with the “black media,” she would forever be branded a “black journalist,” and not just a journalist. Even if she won a Pulitzer, it would be as a “Pulitzer prize winning black journalist.”

Thankfully, this assignment from the Asian Economic Review came just in time. While normally concerned with the cut and dry world of business, the AER had recently become more interested in the interplay of government, business, and organized crime, especially in China and Japan. Joy had been able to finagle an interview, and despite everything, get the assignment. She had flown to Beijing six months ago expecting some real work.

What she saw when she arrived was an eye-opener. The Shanghai AER offices were pathetic, barely larger than her apartment when she had been living in Georgetown, with most of the staff sitting around on their asses all day, retyping and regurgitating press releases sent out by the Chinese companies and government. “You don’t want to ruffle feathers around here,” the senior reporter, a withered old guy named Thompkins, had told her. “You piss off the wrong folks, and the Triad will find you.”

Joy had refused to accept the advice, although she had decided to remain cautious. Working almost totally on her own, she had gone out making whatever connections she could, working with charity groups, underground churches, and every other group she could to foster the connections she needed. There had been some low level payoffs, mostly out of favor officials who were caught with the wrong Triad group, but tonight’s filming was the first real scoop of her career.

Joy waited until almost sunup, dozing when she could underneath the stinking garbage, only making a break for it after she was sure it was safe. Back in her tiny apartment, she scrubbed herself from head to toe in the tepid water that came from her excuse of a water heater, using the fragrant cocoa butter soap that was her only luxury here in China. Gulping down a cup of double strength green tea, she headed to the office, taking the bus. Corrupt or not, she had to admit the Shanghai government ran a very clean public transportation system.

When she got into the office, she was surprised to see she had a visitor. Long Pao “Billy” Chin was a Hong Kong missionary who she had befriended soon after arriving in Shanghai. Born in Hong Kong just a few years before the Chinese takeover, and educated in the United States, Billy also wanted to combat the corruption in China, albeit in his own way. “Hey Joy,” he said in his California accented English, a welcome sound after the months of either international or British pronunciation, “so how was your stakeout?”

“Got the goods, Billy,” she said, patting her purse. “Once I get this out of the country, Fulong’s going to find himself on the front page.”

“I hope so, but you never know,” Billy said sadly, sipping at his tea.

Joy plopped down in her desk chair, turning to face him. “What’s that mean?”

“It means that regardless of what you have, the central government has some sway that you might not be able to overcome. They have a lot of money to throw around, and Fulong’s politically connected. But I don’t want to argue with you about that. Instead, I wanted to see if you might be willing to go with me on a trip. It might just get you a story.”

“Go on,” Joy said, plugging in her laptop and copying over the file. She couldn’t trust sending the file via normal Internet, but with some VPN’s and other routes, she might just be able to slip it through. It would at least be some sort of backup if the actual physical data card was stolen in transit. “What’s the deal?”

“Well, one of my new parishioners came to me last week, with a pretty fantastic story. It seems that a few hundred kilometers west of Shanghai, north of Wuhan there’s an area that the Triads just don’t go.”

“So? They’re interested in money, and a lot of those countryside villages don’t have any.”

Billy shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, we’re talking not even traveling through. Central government avoids the area too, as much as possible. I took a look at a map, and there’s like this triangle between Wuhan, Xinyang, and Hefei that has almost nothing. Close to Hefei is this tiny city called Lu’an, but after that? Nothing. A road travels through it, but that’s it. No major towns, no governmental bases, nothing. I had to go to some old paper maps to even start to figure out where this place might be.”