Review: Into the Flame by Christina Dodd

imageTitle: Into the Flame
Author: Christina Dodd
Format Read: 
Series: Darkness Chosen #4
Publisher: Signet
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release date: August 5th 2008
Formats Available:  paperback, ebook. kindle
Number of pages: 377




Book Blurb:

Roaming the Russian steppes a thousand years ago, a brutal warrior struck a terrifying deal. In exchange for the ability to transform into a heartless predator, he promised his soul—and the souls of his descendants—to the devil.


Ruggedly handsome cop Doug Black is determined to find the birth family who left him with nothing but a terrifying inheritance: the ability to change into a savage golden cougar. His search leads him to a woman as fearless and exotic as he name.

Firebird Wilder is bitterly familiar with supernatural gifts, and flees on discovering Doug’s secret, leaving him alone once more. But no one can escape a wild cougar on the hunt.

When he finds her, they must decide which is more powerful: the love that binds them—or the secrets that threated to tear them apart.

My Thoughts:

This is the last book in the Darkness Chosen series and now the Varinski is getting closer and now there’s one icon missing. In this book we met Douglas, the missing son from the Wilders and also discovered that he had a relationship with Firebird. Konstantine is barely alive and the time is almost done.
This book is very different from the other ones because everyone always though that Firebird was Konstantine daughter and to discover that her hole life people had lied to her was very difficult, and after that she also discovered that she had dated the son and ran away thinking he was another Varinski coming after her family.
Douglas loved Firebird but one day she simply disappeared and using all his means he started to search for her. In the middle of that he thinks Firebird was kidnapped by the Wilder and start to help the Varinski, full out trouble.
The action in this one was a bit different because everyone in the family was part of it and they needed to close a chapter and vanquish the evil. I liked this one and the pace was a bit slower than the other but very enjoyable.

Purchase information:



Books in this Series: Widgets


Book Trailer for Into the Flame by Christina Dodd


The other girls lived in an apartment five minutes from Firebird’s dorm. Meghan had ice cream, so of course Firebird had to stop by for a bowl and a quick gossip, and by the time they’d gone from high spirits to quiet sentiment as they realized their years in college were finally over, it was one a.m. and Firebird figured she’d better get back to the dorm or she’d fall asleep in their chair.

The main walk of the campus was still hopping with celebrating students, but the crowds were thinning fast and when she turned off toward her dorm, it got darker, quieter.

She didn’t mind. Douglas had told her the campus wasn’t safe, but her father had taught her to protect herself, to be careful, to be aware. She was all of those things.

The evening hadn’t turned out as she had hoped. Not at all. Douglas had hinted at his past, had promised to fill her in, then his work had interfered. And she’d made him promise that they’d talk in the morning, but she’d seen the look on his face — he didn’t want to. What secrets did he hide? He was a policeman. How bad could his past possibly be?

As she strolled along the tree-lined walk, she at first didn’t notice the sounds behind her. She was listening for footsteps, not the rustle of leaves and the creak of branches. But once she heard them, she knew what they boded.

Someone was stalking her, creeping along through the trees, and that someone wasn’t all human.

A Varinski.

Somehow, a Varinski had found her.

She didn’t look around, didn’t indicate that she knew she was being followed. Her heart pounded, her skin flushed, yet she walked at a steady pace.
Don’t run, little Firebird, she heard her father’s voice rumble in her head. Running brings out a hunter’s urge to chase, and you can’t outrun a wolf or a panther. You can’t out fly a hawk. But you can outsmart them, and you can outfight them.

As the Varinski moved from tree to tree, she listened to the sounds, trying to figure out what kind of creature was tracking her. A bird of prey, perhaps, or a great cat leaping between the branches.

Her dorm loomed ahead. Lights illuminated about half the windows. People were awake and nearby. She could scream for help. But then someone would get hurt.

She opened her purse, pulled out her cell phone, debated about calling Douglas. He would want her to — but then, he wouldn’t be happy to discover she was walking alone, and if she put her phone up to her ear, that might force the stalker to attack.

How had he located her? What did he want?

As she got closer to the dorm, the sound behind her grew more pronounced. She dug out her keys, threaded them between her fingers so a key stuck out between each knuckle. She opened her phone and dialed nine-one… and before she could hit the last button, the door to the dorm burst open. Eight guys came dashing out, Jacob in their midst, wearing nothing but baseball caps, body paint, and running shoes. They hooted as they passed her. She pumped her fist to indicate her approval, and slipped inside before the door could close.

Then she fled. Fled down the hall and up the stairs to her bedroom. She didn’t turn on the light, but crept to the window. Staying well back in the shadows, she looked out.

There it was, crouched in the shadows of a giant oak, some kind of great cat, stretched along the branch. The moonlight seeped through the leaves and picked up the smooth glory of its coat, and even from here she could see its dark eyes, watching her window. Its tail twitched slowly, as if the loss of its prey had irritated it.

What did it intend to do to her? Was this a rogue Varinski, entertaining himself by stalking and killing the daughter of Konstantine Wilder? Or did the family have plans to kidnap and hold her as a pawn in their plot to destroy her family?

She had to go. She had to leave. She couldn’t wait until graduation, she needed to go at once — and she couldn’t tell Douglas why.

He would never believe this.

“Oh, my love.” What had she been thinking, getting involved with a normal guy? He wouldn’t understand about the pact with the devil and her family’s special talents. How could he? It was absolutely insane.

Worse, as her mate, he’d be in danger, the same kind of danger that shadowed her.

Outside the window, the great cat moved at last. It stood and stretched, then lightly leaped down out of the tree.

She got her first good look at it.

A cougar. It was a cougar.

She frowned. Her heart stopped.

A cougar? But just tonight, Douglas had given her a large, soft, stuffed cougar.

As the cat outside began to change, her heartbeat leaped.

The claws retracted. The bones warped into new shapes: the paws became hands, the back legs lengthened and straightened, the shoulders got broader, the hair retreated onto the head and chest and genitals.

The face changed, too, becoming a man’s face, a familiar man’s face … the face of the man she loved.

She stared. Stared so hard her eyes hurt.

Douglas. Douglas was a Varinski.

He’d come to Brown, sought her out, courted her, seduced her, made her trust him, got her to confide in him … in a brief spasm of shame, she hid her eyes with her hands.

She’d told him she was from Washington. She’d told him she had three brothers, that one was a wine-maker, that her father grew grapes and her mother ruled the family.

Had she told him the name of her town?


Had she given him anything that would enable him to pinpoint her location?


No. Please, no.

Douglas stood out there, naked in the moonlight, a tattoo that looked like great claw marks ripping the skin on his left side.

She hadn’t seen that before. He’d taken great care not to take off his shirt in the light.

Smart guy, because that would have tipped her off for sure. Her brothers had tattoos that were just as vivid, just as distinctive, and they had come naturally the first time they became beasts.

Completely unself-conscious with his nudity — well, why should he be self-conscious? apparently, half the guys on campus were streaking — Douglas turned and loped away.

Virulently, she hoped he was happy with himself. Because he’d managed to get laid, but he hadn’t caught her. He hadn’t killed her.

And he wasn’t going to get another chance to try.

Going to her bed, she picked up the plush stuffed cougar by the scruff of the neck. Its dark, intense eyes mocked her as she walked out into the hall and to the trash chute. But she got the final laugh — she dropped the damned thing down the hole and into the Dumpster outside.

Back to her room, she called the airlines and reserved the first flight out of town toward the west coast. It went to LA, but that was good enough. She could hang out there, try to figure out how much to tell the folks, then catch a ride to Napa to Jasha’s winery, and from there on to Washington.

She packed her clothes and left the dorm, walking toward the bus stop, and as she walked, she dug into her purse, pulled out the envelope with Douglas’s name scrawled across the front. Inside was a Father’s Day card … and a plastic stick with the tell-tale blue stripes that indicated a positive result.

She threw it all into the garbage.

No matter how hard she would try, she could never forget Douglas Black.

She stroked her hand over the slight mound of her belly. Douglas had left her a souvenir she would treasure her whole life long.

Review: Into the Shadow by Christina Dodd

Into The Shadow (Darkness Chosen, #3)Title: Into the Shadow
Author: Christina Dodd
Format Read: 
Series: Darkness Chosen #3
Publisher:  Signet
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release date: July 1st 2008
Formats Available:  ebook, kindle, paperback
Number of pages: 378


Book Blurb:

Blessed—or cursed—with the ability to change into a sleek panther, and driven by a dark soul he’s accepted as his fate, Adrik Wilder abandons his family and his honor to pursue a life of wickedness. He excels at every vice, including kidnapping Karen Sonnet to use for his selfish purposes.

But Karen’s spirit and passion make him question the force of his family’s curse. And when a new evil emerges, Adrik must choose whether to enact revenge on his enemies and redeem his soul, or save Karen from a fate worse than death.

My Thoughts:

This is Adrik book and we don’t have much information about him, because he escaped from home with only 18 and everyone though he was dead but in reality he was in the Himalayan Mountains leading a mercenaries group, much like Robin Wood.

And that’s how he met Karen, when she was send to the mountains to help on the construction of a new hotel, but every night she got the visit from this strange man and they had amazing sex, one day when an avalanche happened Adrik saved Karen and kidnapped her to his tends.

But the Varinskis discovered about him and now Karen has to fight for her life and escape with Adrik.

I loved Adrik, he’s hunted by a death that occurred when he’s no more than a child and Karen actually helps him, is really to see how he reconnect with his past and also helps find the icon. Karen is strong and they match from the first moment. I think Adrik has the best women from the whole brothers.

Purchase information:



Book Trailer for Into the Shadow by Christina Dodd


The dream started as it always did, with a gust of cold Himalayan air striking Karen Sonnet’s face.

She woke with a start. Her eyes popped open.

The darkness in her tent pressed on her eyeballs.

Impossible. Tonight, she’d left a tiny LED burning.

Yet it was dark. Somehow, he’d obliterated the light.

No. No, it was a dream. Just like all those other nights.

But she could have sworn she was awake. She heard the constant wind that blew through this narrow mountain valley, whistling through the granite stones outside and buffeting the ripstop nylon canopy that protected her — barely — from annihilation, and the high, sweet chime of the bells hung across the tent flap. She smelled the scent of tobacco, spices and wool her interpreter had left behind. She felt the menacing cold slipping its cold fingers into the tent …

She strained to hear his footfall.


Still, she knew he was here. She could sense him moving across the floor toward her, and as she waited each nerve tightened, stretching …

His cool hand touched her cheek, making her gasp and jump.

He chuckled, a low, deep sound of amusement. “You knew I would come.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

As he knelt beside her cot, she breathed in his scent: leather, cold water, fresh air, and something else — the smell of wildness. He kissed her, his cool lips firm, his breath warm in her mouth.

She hung suspended in time, in place … in a dream. Yet he kissed as if he were real, not a shadow in the night, and as he lingered her body stirred, her breasts swelling, the familiar longing growing deep inside.

How many nights had it been? Two months? More? Sometimes he didn’t come for one night, two, three, and on those nights she slept deeply, worn out by hard work and the high, thin air. Then he’d return, his need greater, and he touched her, loved her, with a edge of violence sharp as knife. Yet always, she sensed his desperation, and welcomed him into her mind … and her body.

This time, he had gone almost a week.

He slid down the zipper on her sleeping bag, each tooth making a rasping noise, each noise making Karen’s heartbeat escalate another notch. He started at her throat, cupping it, pressing on the pulse that raced there. He pushed the bag aside, exposing her to the cold night air. “You wait for me … naked.” He pressed his palm between her breasts, feeling her heart beat. “You’re so alive. You make me remember …”

“Remember what?” He sounded American, without a hint of accent, and at the times of madness, when she thought he must be real, she wondered where he was from and what he was doing here.

But he didn’t want her to think. Not now. Greedily, he caressed her slight breasts, one in each palm. His hands were long, rough, callused and he used them to massage her while with his thumbs, he circled her nipples.

She made a raw sound in her throat.

“You’re in need.” His voice deepened. “It’s been a long time …”

“I’ve been waiting.”

“And that was my torment, that I could be here with you.”

It was the first time he’d ever suggested he needed this as much as she did. She smiled, and somehow, in this pitch dark, he must have seen her.

“You like that. But if you’ve tormented me, I must torment you in return.” His head dipped. He took one pebbled nipple in his mouth and suckled, softly at first, then as she whimpered, with strength and skill.

He made her go crazy.

But then — any woman who dreamed a shadow lover was already halfway to insane.

She grabbed a handful of his hair, and discovered how very long it was … and soft, and silky. She tugged at him, pulling his head back.

“What do you want?” His voice was a husky whisper.

“Hurry.” She was chilled. She was desperate. “I want you to hurry.”
“But if I hurry, I won’t get to do this.” He pushed the sheet down further, caressed her belly and thighs. Lifting her knees, he spread her legs, exposing her to the cold, shocking her, making her suck in a startled breath.

“Let me see.” He tilted her hips up. “Are you really ready?”

His fingers glided from her knees along the tender skin on her inner thighs to the dampness there. With a delicate touch, he opened the lips and dabbed a touch on her clitoris. “I love your scent, so rich and female. The first time, it was your scent that called me to you.”

Horrified, she tried to draw her legs together. “I bathe every night.”

“I didn’t say you smelled. I said you have a scent that calls to me.” His nails skated up and down her thighs, pushing them apart again … and they were sharp, almost like claws. Almost a threat. “Not to any other man. Only to me.”

“Are you a man?” The question slipped out, and she regretted it. Regretted injecting reality into the dream.

“I thought I had conclusively proved my manhood to you. Shall I do it again?” The hint of warning was gone; he sounded warmly amused, and the finger he pushed inside her was long, strong … and clawless.

The impact made her fling her head back, and when he pushed a second finger inside, her hips moved convulsively. “Please. Lover. I need you.”

“Do you?” Slowly he pulled his fingers back, pressed them back in, pulled them out … and as he pressed them in, he pinched her clit between his thumb and forefinger.

She screamed. She came. Orgasm blasted her away from this cold, bleak mountainside and into a fire pit. Her thighs clamped around his hand. Red swam beneath her closed eyelids. Heat radiated from her skin.

He laughed, one compelling stroke following another, feeding her madness until she collapsed, shivering and gasping, too weak to move.

He covered her with himself.

“I can’t,” she whispered, and her voice shook. “Not again.”

“Yes, you will.”

“No. Please.” She tried to struggle, but he stretched out on top of her. Her head was buried in his shoulder; obviously, he was tall. His body, heavy with muscle, pressed her into the cot. His flesh was cool and firm. His shoulders, chest and stomach rippled with vigor, and his heart thrummed in his chest.

Power hummed through him, and he easily held her as he probed again … but not with his fingers.

She was swollen with need, and his organ was big, bigger than both his fingers. As he worked himself inside her, she whimpered, her body gradually adjusting to the width, the breadth, and all the while the aftermath of climax made her inner muscles spasm.

He held her wrapped in his arms, clutching her as if she was his salvation.

And she embraced him, her arms gripping him against her chest, her legs clasped around his hips, giving him herself, absorbing … absorbing all his ardor, all his need, knowing this was a dream and wanting nothing more.

When the tip of his penis touched the innermost core of her, they both froze.

Darkness held them in a cocoon of heat and sex and emotions stretched too tight for comfort.

Then their passion flashed bright enough to light the night.

He pulled out and pushed back in, thrusting fast and hard, dragging her with him on his quest for satisfaction.

She held on, rapture flowing through her with the heat and intensity of lava.

The tempo built and built until above her, his breathing stopped. He gathered himself, rising high above her, holding her knees behind him … then plunged one last time.

Ecstasy exploded her into tiny fragments of being. She came, convulsing with pleasure, until she was no longer an austere, lonely workaholic, but a creature of joy and light.

Unhurriedly, he dropped back on top of her, bringing the silk sheets and sleeping bag up to cover them. Reaching down to the floor, he pulled a large blanket over them … but no. She touched it with her hand, and discovered fur, thick and soft. A skin of some kind, then.

Had he taken her on a trip back in time, back to a century where a man brought the woman he desired proof of his hunting prowess? Wasn’t that a better explanation than madness?

As the perspiration cooled on their bodies, as their breath and heartbeats returning to normal, she slid easily into sleep.

She stood on the edge of the cliff, the blue sky surrounding her. The wind blew hard, tumbling her hair around her face, and in its voice she heard the wails of mourning women, the hoarse sobs of lonely men, and a child’s anguished wail. She tried to back up, to get away, but her feet were too heavy. She fell …

Just before she hit, she started violently.

She woke to find him leaping to his feet. She heard the click of a gun’s safety.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What did you hear?”

“Nothing. A nightmare.” A phantasm of her mind, one that had threatened her since she was a child.

Since the day her mother had fallen from that cliff.

Slowly, her lover placed something beneath the bed — a firearm of some kind, she now realized — and slid back between the covers. “You weren’t completely asleep.”

“That’s when I … that’s when it always comes.”

“A monster?” He pushed the short, straight strands of dark brown hair away from her face.

“Death.” Shivering, she wrapped herself around him.

She reclined on her narrow cot in her tent at the foot of Mt. Anaya. The darkness pressed down on her, the sense of wrong in this place oppressed her. She hated everything about it.

And tomorrow she would rise. He would gone. And she would go to work, another day spent in hell.

So she wept.

He caressed her face with his fingertips, found her tears, said, “No. Don’t do that.”

The tears only flowed more quickly.

He kissed her. Kissed the damp from her cheeks, her lips, her throat … he kissed as if they hadn’t made love only ten minutes before. He kissed her with passion. He kissed her with intent. Finally, she forgot to cry, and remembered nothing but desire.

Afterward, as she slid off to sleep, she thought she hear him say, in a slow, hoarse voice, “You make me real again.”

Review: Touch of Darkness by Christina Dodd

Touch of Darkness (Darkness Chosen, #2)Title: Touch of Darkness
Author: Christina Dodd
Format Read: 
Series: Darkness Chosen #2
Publisher:  Signet
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release date: August 7th 2007
Formats Available:  ebook, kindle, paperback
Number of pages: 378


Book Blurb:

Handsome, powerful Rurik Wilder holds the power to transform himself into a fierce bird of prey-a gift that’s caused death and destruction.

At last he’s offered the chance to redeem himself. Only one woman stands in his way-a beautiful 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…

My Thoughts:

Rurik Wilder wants to save his family and his father soul so after studying for a long time he starts digging on a small island in England for one of the missing pieces of the icon. One day he left his time to help his brother and they made a huge discover, and somebody tipped the news and that’s how Tasya Hunnicutt appears.

They had a relationship awhile back and both know how strong their feelings are, but life has come in between and they went separate ways but never once they stopped thinking about the other.

Tasya is a photografer and also has a personal interest on the icon. Her parents were killed by the Varinski and she think the icon will help her to prove how bad the Varinski are and put them all in jail. She doesn’t know that Rurik is also a Varinski.

After some Varinski destry the digging these two decided to go across the Europe trying to find where the icon could actually be and also they are escaping the Varinski.

I loved Rurik and Tasya was a bit too dramatic taking in consideration that she travel the world documenting for magazines. Rurik had to save her several times and it took some time for her to trust him. I found her weak and Rurik deserved someone better but this book was full of action just like the one before and that was exciting.

Purchase information:




Rurik stood on the bow of the ferry — he was the lone passenger — and waited for his first sight of the Isle of Roi.

From behind him, the ferry’s first mate advised, “Ye’ll na’ get to the isle faster by pushing.”

“Duncan. Hey, how are you?” Rurik grimaced as he shook hands with the weathered Scot. “I can’t help pushing. I should have been here at the excavation the whole time.”

“Aye, ye stay here day and night and as soon as yer back is turned, yer team pulls the tablecloth out from under the china and finds treasure in the tomb.” Duncan joined him at the rail and stared at the choppy water. “In the last few days, we’ve transported enough tourists to swamp the boat.”

“If the team had kept their mouths shut—”

“Nothing’s changed in the last ten thousand years. Gold brings the greedy to gawk and covet — and that means reporters, too!” Beneath his gray, trimmed beard, Duncan’s lip curled in disdain.

“How many reporters are there?”

“Four — two from Edinburgh, one from London, and a German from some international news service. Enough to write one decent story, ye’d think, but I’ve yet to see one.” Duncan turned to face Rurik, leaned against the railing, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now when that sweet-faced dark-hair lass starts awritin’, then we’ll see something.”

Rurik played dumb. “Who?”

Duncan wasn’t buying it. “Ye know who. Hunni.”

“Tasya … Hunnicutt.” Everyone called her Hunni, and she responded easily to the endearment, smiling at everyone, charming men, women and children alike. Rurik couldn’t bring himself to use her pet name so casually. It irritated him — she irritated him — like a grain of sand in a clam.

“Ah, is that her real name? I didna’ know.”

The hell he didn’t. Duncan saw right through Rurik\’s pretended indifference.

“So she’s here.” Rurik would see her again, see her for the first time since that night—

“Brought her across this morning. She said she would have been here sooner, but she was finishing the photos for her story in Egypt. She’s a traveler, that one is.”

That’s for damn sure. A man would have to nail her feet to the floor to keep her in one place. “She hasn’t been here long. Good.”

“There’s na’ harm in the lass.”

No harm? Rurik remembered all too clearly the harm she’d done him. The scent of her skin, the sound of her husky laughter, the sensation of her heated body against his, her taste … “She’s too damned nosy for her own good, and if she gets the notion that because she’s the reporter for National Antiquities, she can open the grave without me, there’ll be hell to pay.” Rurik winced at his own choice of words.

“I canna’ see her doing that — but then, I’ve got the hots for her.” Duncan put his hand to his chest and sighed like a lovelorn lad.

Rurik clasped the rail as tightly as he could. He had to, or he would strangle Duncan.

Oblivious to Rurik\’s irritation, Duncan rattled on. “There isna’ a man on the island, except for that nancy boy reporter from London, whose compass doesna’ point north at the sight of her.”

“I didn’t see what’s so special.”

“Then ye’re blind.”

“She’s got a bony face.”

“She’s got a face?”

Duncan’s incredulity caught Rurik by surprise, and he laughed. Of course, Duncan was right. Why should any of the guys care what her face looked like?

But unfortunately for Rurik, he couldn’t get Tasya\’s face out of his mind.

Her short hair was so black that in the right light, like in the pub after a hard day’s work and a few hours drinking, the highlights shone with all the colors and gloss of a raven’s wing. Her cobalt eyes were surrounded by Snuffleupagus eyelashes, absurdly thick, sooty, and long. When she blinked, her lashes fanned the air, and when she looked at Rurik, her electric blue gaze sent a shock along his nerves.

And to be fair, her face wasn’t really bony — sculpted would be a better word, with a broad chin that she used for emphasis — she lifted it when she was stubborn, turned it away when she had no intention of listening, pointed it at a guy when she wanted to make a statement.

When it came to her body … well, okay Rurik understood why the guys made moaning noises about woodies and making a hole in one. Her shape wasn’t in style, but there wasn’t a guy on the island who cared about style. She looked like a fifties film goddess, with generous breasts — Rurik gave her a C, and that wasn’t a grade — a tiny waist, a glorious flare of hips, and great legs. Long, muscular, great, great, great legs. All of that was packed into about five foot five inches of dynamic action.

Cover all that with a nun’s habit, leave nothing but her face peeking out, and no man would even notice her.

So, of course, Duncan promptly contradicted Rurik\’s wistful thinking with, “’Tis her lips … she makes a man think of sins performed sinfully, slowly, and often.”

That perfectly described Tasya and her lips and the sex … “She’s a distraction.

“Aye, that she is,” Duncan fervently agreed. “But she doesna’ use her wiles for evil, Rurik. She’d na’ do anything behind yer back.”

Rurik had been unfair about her character. Probably. And for his own reasons. But when Tasya Hunnicutt observed the dig, it wasn’t her passion for him that made her blue eyes grow gray and intense. He would swear had more on her mind than making sure she got good photos and wrote the inside story. “She knows too much about the site.”

“Ye mean, she knows as much as ye do,” Duncan said shrewdly.

God forbid.

“She is a reporter,” Duncan said, “and her employer does fund the dig, so maybe it’s worth her job to know too much.”

“Maybe.” Rurik stared at the on-coming island.

Duncan clapped his hand on Rurik\’s shoulder. “If ye ask me, ye should just harpoon the Hunni and stop sulking.”

Rurik whipped his head around and glared.

“It’s not like the rest of us are getting any. Ye’re the only one with any chance at all. Now if ye’ll excuse me, Cap’n MacLean’ll be wanting my assistance bringing the ferry in.” Duncan headed for the bridge, grinning.

Rurik faced the island, but he saw Tasya — and his destiny.

Review: Scent of Darkness by Christina Dodd

imageTitle: Scent of Darkness
Author: Christina Dodd
Format Read: 
Series: Darkness Chosen #1
Publisher: Signet
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Release date: July 3rd 2007
Formats Available:  paperback, ebook, kindle
Number of pages: 392




Book Blurb:

Ann Smith loves her handsome, dynamic boss, Jasha Wilder, but her daring plan to seduce him goes awry when she encounters a powerful wolf who-before her horrified eyes-changes into the man she adores. She soon discovers she can’t escape her destiny, for she is the woman fated to break the curse that binds his soul.

My Thoughts:

I love shapeshifters, because there’s always a mystery about them, if not for the life itself is  more about finding happiness or discovering the past. There’s some kind of dark side that can be found in any book that features a shape shifter and this one was no different.
The story revolves about a pact made 1000 years ago by an ancestor of Jasha with the devil sorely for power and money. The devil made all descendants shape shifter, but they were all big animals and for years they were feared for being mercenaries. The family made their business to kill other people for money and power but Jasha father fell in love with a gypsy and left the family. Now they changed their names and started a new life without killing.
Jasha is an alpha male and in some moments I didn’t like him but the plot was really god and made me go through some ugly parts and I’m so glad that I got to finish this one. In one scene I got the felling that Jasha passed the line and raped Ann, but she said and acted like it was no big deal. Kinda bad! They had to hide in the jungle to escape an cousin of Jasha, a mercenaries from the bad side of the family that finally discovered where they are hiding.
Their relationship was a big leapt because she started the book just as a secretary and in the end made Jasha fall in love with her. So we could all she that in true form he’s just a teddy bear that brings all guns out to defended his family.
I loved the family and they get along so well, luckily each book is about a brother and some stories are uncovered and some action takes part.

Purchase information:



Books in this Series: Widgets