Stephanie Pui Mun Law
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The Harshini are a sorcerous race who can draw upon the powers of the gods. They are linked to demons as flip sides of a coin -- the Harshini being unable to do evil or hurt other living things, while the demons thrive on chaos. When many of the demons come together, they can meld themselves together to create a new image temporarily -- like a dragon. Cover art for Book II of the Demon Child Trilogy. ©HarperCollins, Australia. 
Image done for the Elfwood T-shirt. The shirts can be purchased from Ellen Million Graphics. Profits are donated to Elfwodo to help support this community of amateur fantasy artists and writers. 
The first in a series of images I hope to do for the chinese zodiac animals. Being a dragon myself, I decided to start with that... 
"I swear to you I will be true," he whispered to the maid. The sun and sky, I'll give to you, and never shall I fade." She laughed at him. She turned away. "You think I seek fool things? What use have I for moon and waves? Pray, give your words true ring! -- Make this white rose deepest red, like blood on which you've sworn; for then I'll know ye true, all said, by passion bled of thorns." 
Inspired by the short story Green Serpent by Marie-Catherine D'Aulnoy, a 17th century version of the old Psyche and Eros tale. However, Eros is replaced with a man cursed with the form of a green serpent. The curse is his penance for slighting a goddess. The following is an excerpt from the part when the princess (Psyche-role) first comes to the prince/serpent's palace on his island. She was taken there by a magic ship, but midway to her destination, there was a storm. "Completely at the mercy of the winds, the vessel drifted on until it struck a rock and immediately shattered into pieces. The poor princess realized that mere philosophizing would not save her in such a catastrophe, and she grabbed onto some pieces of the wreck, so she thought, for she felt herself buoyed in the water and fortunately reached the shore, coming to rest at the foot of a towering boulder. Alas, she was horrified to discover that her savior was none other than the green serpent!" 
There is a tale in Chinese mythology of a village boy who finds a large and brilliant pearl one day while he is out foraging. He brought the precious thing back home, and to keep it hidden from the neighbors so they would not be jealous, his mother tucked the pearl into the jar of rice. To their surprise when they opened the jar several days later, they found it full to the brim when it had previously been near empty! Curious now, the mother placed the pearl into another empty jar. The next day that jar too was full!!! Pleased with their prize, the mother and boy decided to share their newfound wealth with the neighbors, and though they told no one the secret of the pearl, word soon got out. The villagers became jealous, and plotted how they could steal this miraculous pearl. They planned a raid. The night of the raid, in the confusion and wild chasing, the boy somehow swallowed the pearl, and as its magic raged through his body, he was changed into a huge dragon who thereafter lived in the river by the village. You will often see Chinese dragons depicted with a flaming pearl hovering before them. The dragon was once this boy, and it is that precious and miraculous pearl that he protects. 
The legendary knight slaying the evil dragon 
There is a Chinese tale of the Herder Boy and the Weaver Girl, who were so in love that they neglected their duties and were thus seperated by the gods (they are stars in the sky). They are only allowed to meet one night a year, and that is when all the birds fly across to create a bridge between the Herder Boy's and the Weaver Girl's stars. This bridge of wings forms the Milky Way. 
Celtic knotwork with fantasy dragons 
Cover für das Dreamscapes Buch 
Interior illustration for Bastion Press's rpg 
An ancient dragon. Fading magic... 
While they sleep the seasons turn. The leaves burst green then burn gold and fall to crisp upon the ground. The sun sings of how she yearns to sleep in the dusky hours when damp night mists swallow all sound. While they sleep men tread upon the worn pathways along the plated spines, weaving tales of what has gone, piping tunes of what has been, and what will be - The cadences rise and fall and drift between the scales and shifting seams; melodies for sleeping giants' dreams. 
Illustration for Altimer's Cross 
©Alderac Entertainment Group