From New York Times bestselling author Christina Dodd comes the second book of DARKNESS CHOSEN, a seductive paranormal series about an ancient, dark evil that lives in the modern world ... A thousand years ago, a brutal warrior struck a terrifying bargain. In return for the ability to change at will into a cold-hearted predator, he promised his soul, and the souls of his descendants, to the devil.
Handsome, powerful Rurik Wilder battles darkness -- the darkness without, and the darkness within. For he possesses the power to transform himself into a fierce bird of prey, and that gift has caused death and destruction.
At last he is offered the chance to redeem himself and break the evil pact which has held his family in thrall for centuries. Only one woman stands in his way -- flamboyant Tasya Hunnicutt, a writer determined to wreak revenge on the assassins who murdered her family. Assassins, it's been rumored, who have powers no human should ever possess...
Readers of J. R. Ward and Christine Feehan will enjoy all the paranormal books in the Darkness Chosen Werewolves & Shifters series.
These exciting titles are:
-- SCENT OF DARKNESS
-- TOUCH OF DARKNESS
-- INTO THE SHADOW
-- INTO THE FLAME
forgot the ultralight. The Varinskis. He felt exactly as he had when the tunnel collapsed. Stunned, winded, unable to grasp the magnitude of the disaster. She stood and looked up at him, his mouth agape. ‘‘Great teeth.’’ He snapped his jaw shut. ‘‘Give me more information. ’’ ‘‘My publishers have me set up for an interview on GMA as soon as I lay my hands on some proof of their legend. I’m pretty sure having them blow the tomb that I happen to be exploring will put me and my story on the
the mountains in Washington? I always heard they were full of—’’ She caught herself in time. ‘‘Head cases? I know a lot of them.’’ He knew a lot of Varinskis, too—only their last names were Wilder. She looked sorry she’d asked. ‘‘But actually, my parents moved to Washington to avoid their families. The families didn’t want them to marry, so my folks ran away.’’ Don’t tell Tasya the truth. At least—not all of it. ‘‘A love match.’’ ‘‘For sure. They’re the reason I believe in love.’’ Now Tasya
‘‘Because it’s the right thing to do.’’ Lame answer. ‘‘Because that’s what I do.’’ ‘‘No. With the other evils, you take pictures. You write a story. You move on to relative safety. With the Varinskis, once you declare yourself their enemy, there will be no safety ever again. And you know that. So again, I ask—why the Varinskis?’’ ‘‘I’ll have you know there are a few governments in this world who hate me for my stories.’’ She hadn’t thought Rurik would wonder about her motivation, or that he’d
the icon, but because she had loved their son. During those dark days when they’d thought he was dead, his parents had talked about him, asked her about his last days, shown her his baby book, cried with her. Now that he had returned, they didn’t claim him as their own. Instead, they paid tribute to her with the place of honor at their kitchen table. Rurik sat on the bench beside her, dressed in a loose black T-shirt and jeans, and an old pair of running shoes, making sure she had all she
years ago, a medieval warlord called Clovus the Beheader took the structure and made it his own, stocking it with treasure in anticipation of his death.’’ Brandon Collins from the London Globe had shouted, ‘‘What led Mr. Wilder to that conclusion?’’ ‘‘He did extensive research on Clovus and on the path of destruction he cut across modern-day France, England, and Scotland.’’ Hardwick removed stones from the wall while Rurik’s team of archaeologists stood back, frowning and watching intently,
