LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE…..
Round 2: Fighting for DFT – Colt Jackson
Colt Jackson vs. Octavius
Remember to check out Parajunkee’s View site and choose wisely…tweet #SuperSmack
Book: The Hunter, out 11-1-11 from Zebra
Job: A supernatural Hunter in the Wild Weird West
Height: 6 ft.
Weight: Big enough to go head-to-head with any supernatural thing out there and win
Hair color: Jet black, tousled hair, usually covered by his battered brown Stetson
Eye color: medium blue
Best Feature: A killer smile
Location: Arizona, 1883
Significant Other: Lillith Marie Arliss, succubus
Signature Moves: Quick with a gun, fast with a blade and able to kill a supernatural any time, any where
Kill Highlights: Hell hounds, rock monsters, shapeshifters, vampires, ghosts, demons, naiads, giant spiders, you name it. I’ve killed it.
Enemies: Anything supernatural, except of course Lilly, but that’s only because she wants to be human again. Otherwise I’d send her sweet ass back to Hell to just on principal alone.
Favorite Pastimes: Hunters don’t get pastimes, unless you count cleaning your weapons and a good shot of Kentucky Red Eye whiskey now and again a pastime. Wait I take that back. My favorite pastime usually involves a nice soft bed and a sweet, soft, willing woman.
Favorite Weapons: Colt Repeating Revolver, Sting Shooter
Other Facts: Member of the Legion of Hunters, have two older brothers, both a shade more respectable than me. I’m considered an outlaw, but those pictures on the wanted posters are completely unwarranted. When you’re killin’ Darkin, people don’t always know the difference between what’s safe and what’s supernatural. My most reliable sidekicks are my clockwork horse, Tempus and my inventor friend Marley Turlock who’s sort of a mad genius, whose inventions either are brilliant or backfire drastically.
*glances around and tips his Stetson up with his finger* I gotta be honest with you folks. Fact is I’m here in this Supernatural Smack Down under false pretenses.
See, I ain’t no supernatural. I hunt them. So pretty much ever bad nightmare runnin’ around this place, I’ve kicked it’s ass, shot it dead in the forehead with a special Darkin killn’ bullet, burned, salted or beheaded it. I’m just here biding my time, waiting for my chance to take care of all of them. That’s really why you should put your money on me. I’ve been trained by the best. My pa and my brothers, we all come from a long line of Hunters back to the Dark Ages. Killin’ supernaturals to make humanity safe is what we do. And there’s no body better.
Now if you want to go vote for one of those others in this Smack Down, you go right on ahead. But I’m givin’ you fair warnin’ here and now, they’re all gonna be dead by the end and the last one standing is going to be the Hunter. And that’s a promise.
Take a look and you’ll see what I mean:
Colt jettisoned forward out of the mouth of the tunnel in a heap upon hard uneven ground. He groaned, rolling over on to his back. Rocks dug uncomfortably into his back, and his skin felt dirty and abraded as though he’d been tied behind a stagecoach and drug to Bodie and back. “Damn. I’m glad I’m out, but remind me never to do that again.”
Clack. Clack. Clack. The bluish light of the coil illuminator seemed brilliant in the inky darkness. Colt blinked, holding a hand before his eyes as they adjusted to the light Lilly held.
“You might not be so glad once you see where we are.” The black ribbon about Lilly’s throat moved as she swallowed hard. Death and decay lent a sickly odor to the air. She pointed a shaking finger the direction of the cavern that opened up in front of them.
Colt looked around. “What the. . .” The floor and walls looked white and fuzzy. He sat up with a start as he realized that the floor of the cavern was covered in pale bones. Thousands of them. The rocks beneath him weren’t rocks at all, but bits of skeletal remains.
He leapt to his feet, his skin too thin and uncomfortable as it suddenly shrunk tight to his body. “Whatever calls this cave home is hungry.” He pushed a coyote skull away with the toe of his boot, then reached out to touch the haphazardly woven sparkling white cloth-like substance covering on the walls.
“Don’t touch it,” Lilly hissed, her voice low and insistent. “Can’t you see it’s a web?”
Colt yanked back his hand. Upon closer inspection the white filaments of the thickly woven web were glistening with clear pearls of liquid. The stuff was probably sticky as hell. As Lilly moved the light about the cavern, grisly husks-animal and human-appeared from the gloom, their flesh decayed and dried like mummies. An upward glance showed more desiccated bodies suspended from the ceiling, shrouded in webbing.
“Well, there’s one good thing about this,” Colt placed his hat firmly on his head then shrugged into his pack.
Lilly turned and glared at him. “How can it possibly be good? We’ve got either an army of spiders waiting to pounce on us or one enormous spider that’s hunting somewhere else?”
“No. We’ve got to be close to the surface.”
“What makes you think that?”
He jerked his thumb at the floor. “There’s no way it could have found this much food wandering into the mine aimlessly. It has to hunt the surface and bring its prey here where it feels relatively safe from other predators.”
Lilly gazed around them and gestured to the remains dangling from the ceiling. “Based on the size of its prey, it’s probably large enough to cover a lot of ground,” she pointed out. “We could still be a good distance from the surface.”
Colt tugged his Stetson down lower on his forehead. “Either way we need to move.”
They struggled across the uneven piles of bones, slick, shifting and smooth beneath their feet toward the large opening of the cavern. Twice Colt grasped Lilly’s arm to keep her from falling among the macabre debris.
Colt held up a hand and silenced her, then pointed to the funnel-like opening of the webbed cavern. The sound of skittering rocks and an unfamiliar rasping click, click, click, was echoing in the tunnel beyond.
Colt’s gun hand itched like holy hell. “That don’t sound good.”
They inched out further into the mine shaft, careful not to catch themselves in the sticky web lining the walls and draped in diaphanous sweeps from the ceiling.
A glint of something shining in the darkness caught Lilly’s eye and she swiveled in its direction, holding out the coil illuminator so they could see it better.
Eight soup-bowl-sized eyes, came into view over a pair of pointed mandibles each as long and thick as Colt’s arm and tipped with a deadly black shining fang. Their razor-sharp edges rasped as they clicked with the monster-size spider’s movement. A distinctive red hourglass four feet long marked on the undercarriage of its enormous globular black body. The spider suspended itself from the ceiling with long thin legs as its eyes avariciously took in what must look like two meaty snacks.
Lilly gasped. Her body went rigid beside him, all color draining turning her skin ashen as sun-bleached wood. Colt tugged on her sleeve. “Lilly.” He said her name low and harsh. “Move!”
She didn’t budge. Didn’t even blink. Damn, the spider seemed to have mesmerized her, either that or she was utterly terrified. His heart sped up, his senses growing sharper in the presence of danger. The spider crept forward. Its bristled hairy forelegs stretched out toward them, then lunged.
There wasn’t time for words. He unceremoniously yanked her off her feet as he wrapped a thick arm around her waist and pulled her out of range of the spider’s piercing fangs.
He shoved her down the hallway, placing himself between her and the enormous arachnid, then spun back to face the monster. “I ain’t heard any dinner bell yet.”
With practice-honed reflexes he pulled his revolver from its holster, using one hand to fire, and the other to recock the gun as fast as he could in succession, firing off three quick shots. From the corner of his eye he could see Lilly jerk with the ricocheting sound of each shot.
The spider bucked backward and screeched, two of its eyes blown apart. Dark liquid splattered the rock wall and dripped from the gauzy web in long black stringy strands. One leg had been shot clean through and twitched on the ground. Great. Only seven to go.
It lunged forward again, angry, snapping fangs and giant mandibles at him. A scream tore from Lilly’s throat as she huddled on the floor of the tunnel. He pulled six more bullets from his ammunition belt and shoved them in the revolver chambers as fast as he could. Marley’s special bullets weren’t going to stop this monster. It was too damn big. Time to improvise.
Instead of shooting at the advancing creature he fired the six rounds at the wooden support beam over its head, sending out a shower of splintered wood, debris and bones. The beam weakened with an audible crack and the rock held in place came crashing down on the spider. It screeched, writhing and still alive, but pinned down.
Lilly coughed against the dust. Colt hauled her up from the floor with his free hand. “You hurt?”
Colt knew that glassy-eyed look. Shock. Fear. She swung her head her head slightly side-to-side, still too shaken to speak properly. “Good. That ain’t going to hold it long. Can you run?”
Lilly nodded mutely, but it was all the reassurance he needed. He took her hand firmly in his and pulled her along after him.
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. But it wasnt until third grade that Theresa overcame her dyslexia and learned to read, going on to make words her lifes work. With a degree in Mass Communications she became first a journalist, then a public relations officer in both the corporate and agency realm. But by far the most challenging has been using her writing skills to pen paranormal and steampunk novels in the turret office of her Seattle-area Victorian home. Shes 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. “
Want to read more from Theresa Meyers?
This giveaway is provided by Theresa Meyers
One winner will receive an ARC of The Hunter by Theresa Meyers
Available on November 1, 2011 from Kensington/Zebra
About the Book:
They’re the Chosen—Winchester, Remington and Colt—brothers trained to hunt down supernatural beings using the latest steam-powered gadgetry. It’s a hard legacy to shoulder, and it’s about to get a lot more dangerous. . .
A Devil Of A Job
Colt Jackson has gotten his name on many a wanted poster with success in the family business: hunting supernaturals across the frontier. Lately, though, there’s a sulfur stink in the wind and the Darkin population is exploding. A rift in the worlds is appearing. To close it, Colt will have to do the unthinkable and work with a demon to pass arcane boundaries no human alone can cross.
Except when he summons his demon, he doesn’t get some horned monstrosity: he gets a curvy redheaded succubus named Lilly, who’s willing to make a bargain to become human again. He also gets Lilly’s secret expertise on the machinations on the dark side of the rift. And her charm and cleverness help to get them out of what his silver-loaded pistol and mechanical horse can’t. Of course, when all hell breaks loose, he might have to sacrifice his soul. But what’s adventure without a little risk?
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.