Chosen by Fire Read Online Kelly Eason

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
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She was an ordinary mortal woman…until she learned she was chosen at birth to kill.

Dana Elliott is no small-town girl. An unknown force compelled her to abandon her life in Chicago and move to a tiny town in the mountains of north Georgia. Now, a year later, she’s bored and frustrated with her zero social life and on the verge of quitting her college professor job and leaving town.
Then she meets Jerome Kendall, a gorgeous, motorcycle-riding, immortal hunk who is literally hotter-to-the-touch than any man she’s ever known. As a member of the Flame clan, Jerome can control fire and become invisible whenever he wants. But he desires only one thing – revenge for the death of his closest friend, Samuel.
Uriah, the evil leader of a gang of cannibal mutants who is kidnapping and caging humans at the bottom of a deep gorge, and the man who murdered Samuel, becomes the target of Jerome’s deadly revenge. Unfortunately, Jerome can’t kill Uriah himself but he’s stunned to discover that Dana, a beautiful, mortal woman, was destined at birth to be the only one who can kill Uriah.
After learning some shocking secrets about her and Jerome’s family, is Dana willing to take on the challenge of a violent and potentially lethal combat to kill the mutant leader? And can Jerome risk the life of the woman he loves to avenge his friend’s death?

FULL BOOK START HERE:

PROLOGUE

“I knew you’d eventually find your way here. You’re wasting your time. Go away. Don’t annoy us.” Uriah flicked his gnarled hand toward Samuel Hare as if he were swatting at a mosquito, clawing the air with warped, contorted fingers ending in jagged yellow talons. His swollen, bulbous face twisted into a grotesque sneer, revealing slime-covered rotting teeth. Thick drool congealed at the corners of his mouth. Red, sunken eyes narrowed into slits as he swiveled his head back and forth, surveying the group standing before him. A few tufts of filthy, matted gray-white hair sprouted randomly from his crusty scalp. The tattered clothing he wore didn’t hide the massive rubbery scars covering his limbs.

Samuel Hare and the others in the Flame clan were assembled on the rocky, uneven floor of Demon Gorge. Light from a few scattered torches flickered across their anxious faces. Anticipating a violent confrontation with Uriah, their tense hands fingered the swords hanging at their sides.

“The killing has to stop. Now. It’s gone on far too long,” Samuel demanded.

“You live your way; we’ll live our way.” Uriah spat at him, showering him with vile spittle.

“How many innocents have you slaughtered, Uriah? Where’s all this evil getting you?” Samuel tried to keep his voice calm.

“It’s none of your damn business. We’ll do whatever the hell we like. You’re not gonna stop us. I can’t believe you were stupid enough to come here.”

Turning around, Uriah motioned at the gang of mutants hulking behind him. The mutants, who resembled their leader in appearance, advanced, readying for combat.

Samuel moved in closer to Uriah and raised his arms—palms facing up—stretching them toward Uriah. Samuel’s hands glowed bright orange, then red. Blood dripped from his swelling palms, falling in bright splatters to the dusty ground.

Uriah’s body smoked, then erupted in flames. Snapping and crackling, the blaze swirled around his writhing figure.

“No!” Uriah shrieked.

Samuel’s arms shook violently, surrendering Fire to Uriah’s soul.

“You bastard!” Uriah screamed. Twisting in pain, still in flames, he managed to grasp his sword. He lunged at Samuel and viciously thrust the sword through his chest, then yanked it out. Uriah’s cry of victory and Samuel’s piercing scream echoed through the gorge. The blaze covering Uriah disappeared, replaced by thin plumes of smoke rising from his cooling skin.

Jerome, his sword out, lunged toward Uriah. But the mutants circled Uriah, their own swords ready, protecting their leader. Jerome howled in frustration and backed off. Even if he could get to Uriah, his sword was useless to him.

Samuel lay on his back, his breaths shallow and uneven, his chest heaving. “You ...” he croaked at Uriah, “you ... will one day ... die by my hand.”

“Good luck with that,” Uriah snarled. “I don’t think so. Your pathetic minions will be incinerating your useless corpse tonight. I haven’t forgotten the funeral ritual.”

Uriah spat at Samuel again, the large glob of mucous splashing his crumpled body lying on the rocks and dirt.

“Damn you!” Jerome shouted in a hoarse rage.

Flanked by the other mutants, Uriah backed away, disappearing into the darkness. Jerome bolted toward him, but the others rushed to hold him back.

“Let me go!” Jerome roared, struggling against the hands restraining him. But he knew it would have been sure suicide to go after him.

Jerome shook off the others holding him and went to Samuel, who, straining and grasping, extended his arms up to Jerome.

Jerome dropped to the ground and cradled the dying man’s head in his arms.


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