Hi everyone! Happy Monday! Hope you all had a great weekend!
I have lots of exciting posts coming up. One year from now, my first novel will be released! Okay, well not on this specific day for sure, but in September 2013, and as a result, I am ssssssoooooo excited to announce that the official title of my first paranormal romance release, book number one of the Execution Underground series, will be titled SHADOW HUNTER!!!
Since I am so excited to announce this title, I thought 'hey, why not have a giveaway?'
GIVEAWAY INFORMATION
The SHADOW HUNTER Giveaway opens today (9/17/12) and closes Sunday September 23st, 2012 at 9PM EST!!!
U.S entrants only please!
Simply leave a comment on this post with your email address in order to enter.
Tweet about the SHADOW HUNTER Giveaway and it's link for an extra entry! Only one extra entry per person!
PRIZE:
An AUTOGRAPHED copy of New York Times Bestselling Author Christina Dodd's paranormal romance novel,
Chains of Ice!
So please leave a comment with your email address in order to enter! And as a special treat, I leave you with this: the first three pages of SHADOW HUNTER (Execution Underground, #1).
Chapter
One
Jace McCannon
palmed the Mateba and clicked back the gun’s hammer. The cold grip panels of
the modified revolver sat comfortably in his hand. Six silver bullets for a
rogue werewolf. Limited shots. But he was feeling lucky.
He
gripped the gun with both hands and lowered it to his side, slipping in and out
of the shadows. The rank scent of garbage, car exhaust, and piss wafted into
his nose as he passed through the alleyway. Ah, the sweet aroma of Rochester’s
slums. He ran his tongue over his teeth, jonesing for a cigarette to drown out
the smell and steady the adrenaline buzz creeping through his veins. Goddamn,
he wanted to find this son of a bitch.
Resting
his back against a brick building, he paused and glanced up. The white moon
stared down to Earth, calling him. Heat prickled beneath his skin and his beast
shifted. But he wouldn’t allow it. Not tonight.
He
wrenched his gaze from the damn tempting sky and forced himself into the
moment. Inhaling a deep breath, he rushed around the corner and scanned the
area, pointing his gun into the darkness. No one. No werewolves, no hobos.
Damn, not even the prostitutes were roaming.
Not
that he blamed them. Regular killings weren’t anything to call home about—happened
all the time. But this was different. Innocent women being found with their
organs slung around their corpse, Jack the Ripper style. The worst part? Jace
had no idea where to find the sick fuck responsible, and the thought of the
young women’s pain sent his blood boiling.
He
wandered the alley, gun still at the ready and eyes searching for any sign of
movement. A rustling noise hissed from around the next corner. Jace held his
gun tight and snuck down the narrow passage toward it. The sound grew louder
and he quickened his pace. When he reached the bend, he stopped, listening
close. He threw himself around the edge, gun ready and his finger on the
trigger.
A
plastic bag caught on a dumpster swished in the light wind. He cursed under his
breath. Maybe he wasn’t so lucky tonight. He pushed his fingers through his
hair. The cell phone jammed in the pocket of his jeans vibrated. He pulled out
the annoying piece of shit and read the screen: David.
He
jabbed his thumb into one of the buttons, hoping it was the right one and
shoved the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Meeting
in an hour,” David’s deep voice rumbled over the line.
Aw, hell. Jace shook his head. “Don’t
toy with me. I’ve got business.”
“I’m
not shittin’ you, J. One hour, and you better be there or Damon’s gonna rip my
head off. I told him I’d get you here.”
Jace
frowned. He hated being forced to carry a damn cell phone. He didn’t enjoy
people contacting him whenever they pleased. “It’s near the full moon, David.
This is my prime time. You know that.”
“You
don’t have to preach to me. Damon’s the one hawking you.” David paused for a
moment. “He’s gonna want a report tonight.”
“Yeah,
yeah, I hear ya. I’ll have something.”
“Sure
you hear me, and I like to dress up in tutus, while my girl spanks me and calls
me Big Daddy.”
Jace
smirked. “Hey, if that’s what gets you off—”
“Shut it,” David
said. “You’ve gotta report tonight or your ass is in a sling. So what are you
gonna tell him?”
Jace
glanced into the empty darkness surrounding him. “Same thing I told him last
time: jack shit. I’m not opening my damn mouth until I’ve either got their
packmaster bound and chained, or preferably, his head on a silver platter
courtesy of my bare hands.”
David
let out a frustrated sigh. “I thought you said you had something.”
“I
do.” Jace lowered his voice; it didn’t matter that he was alone, some things he
couldn’t say aloud if he wanted to keep his sanity. “I’ve got a scent. That’s
all, and it’s familiar, so I smell it everywhere. Trailing him is about as much
fun as shooting myself in the foot.”
“It’s
something.”
“You
better believe it’s something. But what do you expect me to do, David? Tell the
whole goddamn council their werewolf hunter happens to be so damn good at his
job because he’s a friggin’ half-breed?”
Silence
answered him from the other end of the line. Another rustling sound blew
through the alley, but Jace ignored the noise. “Look, I’ll deal with this, all
right? Forget about it. I’ll be at the damn meeting with bells on and a smiling
face, but let me do it on my own terms.”
“Yeah,
fine. I better see you there or the next time I’m around, I’ll have a long rope
and it’ll be coming straight for your neck.”
Jace
huffed. “Talk to you later, Big Daddy.”
“Yeah,
you too, sugar.”
With
a small click, the line went dead. Jace
shoved the machine in his pocket again. The swishing sound continued, the noise
growing. Jace rolled his eyes, ready to ball the grocery bag and pitch it. He
eyed the plastic.
Shit. The wind stopped. It
wasn’t blowing.
The
faint sound of footsteps echoed and the rustling quieted. Jace wrenched his
revolver from his side, launching himself down the alley and around the corner.
He held his gun tight, prepared to shoot.
Copyright Kaitlyn Ballenger, Harlequin Enterprises Limited
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Kate SeRine (pronounced
"serene") faithfully watched weekend monster movie marathons while
growing up, each week hoping that maybe this time the creature du jour would
get the girl. But every week she was disappointed. So when she began writing
her own stories, Kate vowed that her characters would always have a happily
ever after. And, thus, her love for paranormal romance was born.
