Attorney by Day, Demon-Hunter by Night: The Chosen by Theresa Meyers & Giveaway
Welcome to Mother/Gamer/Writer for The Chosen Blog Tour. For today’s tour stop, please enjoy an excerpt from The Chosen and enter to win a $50 Amazon Gift Card and Autographed Copies!
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The Chosen: a prophecy older than dirt and more dangerous than death. Even as they perfected steam-powered gadgetry and rounded up varmints from Hell, the Jackson brothers didn’t believe in it. But when the chips are down, three brothers named for weapons aren’t going out without a fight…
A Walk On The Wild Side
Attorney by day, demon-hunter by night, Remington Jackson is used to being on the sunny side of the law, even in the Wild West. But it’s showdown time, and Remy and his brothers are getting desperate. They don’t have the relic they need to slam the door shut on evil—so Remy is going to have to find and steal part of it.
Enter China McGee, shapeshifter, thief, beauty, and current prisoner. When Remy offers her freedom in exchange for a little light-fingered help, she’s pretty sure she’s going to end the association with a good old-fashioned seductive double cross. But there’s something about fighting through a jungle full of Mayan ruins that makes you want to settle down together. China could change. Remy might be special. But none of that matters if the devil takes them all…
Excerpt from The Chosen by Theresa Meyers
He’d briefly toyed with the idea of putting the iron shifter restraining cuff back on her, but thought better of it. Doing so only would have broken the fragile sense of trust beginning to build between them. And he did have to admit, she’d been both a mountain lion and a hellhound and hadn’t ripped him apart either time. That had to count for something.
“Is your mount suitable, Miss McGee?”
She turned for a moment and looked at him. “You know you ain’t got to be all stiff and formal with me; you might as well call me China.”
An unwanted wash of something hot and acidic roiled in his gut. “Colt called you China.”
She huffed. “Well, it’s my name, dammit. What else was he supposed to call me?”
He raised a brow. “I take it by your tone that you are no longer enamored of my brother.”
“If that means I ain’t after him no more, then you got it right.”
Interesting. And dangerous. For both of them. “And why is that?”
“Colt made it plain he don’t have no more use for me. He’s got that red-headed tramp Darkin of his now to help him find the piece of the Book he’s hunting.”
Remington resisted the urge to chuckle. Clearly China was feeling scorned, and his amusement would only add to her humiliation and pain. Neither of which he wanted to do. He needed her to be focused.
He needed to be focused.
He’d long ago determined the best course of action with a woman who was heart hurt was to reassure her of her desirability. Wait. The horse slowed, sensing his hesitation. What the hell did he think he was doing? And when had he started thinking of China as a woman rather than a Darkin? He shook his head to clear it. She was Darkin, and a powerful one at that. He’d do best to remember it before something dreadful happened. He shouldn’t be worrying about her emotional state, and he’d damn well get his own under firm control.
Remington swiveled his gaze to her. The hot evening desert wind caught her hair, sending it into a swirl of blond satin ribbons behind her head as she rode beside him. Her sun-kissed skin gave her a healthy glow and made the gray in her eyes turn at times a silvery sage green color. He realized with a start the point he’d been duped into thinking of her as female—the moment he’d seen her in the cell, dirt, grime, and all. She’d been too angelic looking to be something damned and vicious as he’d been raised to believe all Darkin were.
“Why you lookin’ at me like that?” Her words came out velvet soft, very nearly a purr.
“Why you lookin’ at me like I’m the last swig of water in the canteen? All needy-like.”
He gave her a tilting half smile, nothing serious, nothing too comic, so she’d believe he made light of the situation. “A man can’t enjoy a beautiful view?”
A delightful pink color suffused her cheeks. “Is that all? ’Cause I could’ve sworn you looked like you had thoughts running through your head.”
Remington knew better than to bait her, but he could hardly help himself. Letting anyone get the last word just wasn’t in his nature. He liked to win. “What kind of thoughts?”
“Thoughts like you were wondering what exactly happened between me and Colt.”
Remington frowned. “Frankly that’s the last thing I’d like to discuss.”
China snorted. “Hit a sore spot?”
Remington centered himself, shoving down the boil of emotion until he was calm, cool, and collected. “What happened between the two of you is immaterial to our mission. I need you, and you need me to locate and obtain the Book. Simple. Easy. Neat and clean. End of story.”
She snorted again and muttered under her breath. “Ain’t nothin’ that simple and easy.”
The progeny of a slightly mad (NASA) scientist and a tea-drinking bibliophile who turned the family dining room into a library, Theresa Meyers learned early the value of a questioning mind, books and a good china teapot.
A former journalist and public relations officer, she found far more enjoyment using her writing skills to pen paranormal novels in the turret office of her Victorian home.
She’s spent nearly a quarter of a century with the boy who took her to the Prom, drinks tea with milk and sugar, is an adamant fan of the television show Supernatural, and has an indecent love of hats.