High Octane by Kathleen Scott

February 27, 2010 at 12:06 pm | Category: Guest Blogger, blog

Thanks for having me here today, Sandra to promote my latest Samhain Release, High Octane.

I absolutely love action and space battles and epic love stories. Combine all those ingrediants together and you get a story after my own heart. It’s odd how some story lines will come to you. This one began with a single opening line.

Bombs screeched from the sky, falling from above like lethal rain.

With a title like High Octane, I felt I couldn’t disappoint on the action angle. See, I like to start my books out with a bang. Literally. When I typed that I knew where I was going with this story. It was going to be a futuristic and involve a crack team of military specialists who jump between this dimension and the next – and it was probably going to involve writing a series. I’m working on book two now and I have to say, the deeper I get into the world of this military team, the more stories I find I need to tell. The men are hawt and the women daring and strong.

Here’s the blurb for High Octane.

 Two hearts are never more than one dimension apart.

A routine fuel run through one of the planet’s dimensional portals explodes in violence when Major Geneieve Lockhart’s Jumper team is hammered with an unprovoked attack. With her ship disabled and contact to mission control limited, Genie faces her worst nightmare—losing her crew on the blood-soaked floor of a foreign desert.

Help comes from an unlicensed freelance mercenary ship, piloted by a man she never thought she’d see again. Her AWOL ex-lover, Lt. Col. Dante Bowen.

Bowen knows answering Genie’s distress call puts his undercover mission to expose a governmental conspiracy at risk. But after faking his death six years ago, he owes her something. Ending up chained in her cargo hold for transport to his own court martial wasn’t the thanks-for-the-rescue he expected.

The bridges between them may be in ashes, but their desire burns as hot as ever. Even as Genie wonders what happened to Bowen’s code of honor, her body betrays her heart at every turn. The hostile race that attacked her ship, though, is coming back to finish them off. The only way to ensure freedom—on both sides of the dimensional divide—is to put her trust in the one man who betrayed it…

Warning: Contains action-packed dimensional travel, hot military wartime sex, betrayed lovers and evil, power-hungry bastards.

And what would a blurb be without an excerpt.

“Lt. Colonel Dante Bowen, you are under arrest as a defector and traitor.” Genie raised her laser pistol and pointed it at his heart. Her hand was covered in dirt and blood, but she held the gun as steadily as if it were mounted.

The years apart had hardened her, both in muscle and the look in her clear gray eyes. Hate and distrust came at him like a blast of heat. She meant business.

Bowen leaned against the back of the pilot’s seat, resting his arm on the side. “Is that any way to talk to the man who risked his life to come to a battle zone and save your sorry excuse for a team?”

“Don’t you dare speak about my team as if you have the right.” She touched the com unit attached to her belt. “I need security to the merc ship bridge.”

“Yes, Major.”

Bowen raised his brow at Genie, trying to look more casual than he felt at the moment. “Major, huh? I didn’t know you’d been promoted.” He let his gaze rake over her, taking care to make note of the thin synthetic undershirt she wore instead of her uniform embossed with rank insignia.

“A lot of things have changed since you went MIA and were presumed dead.” There was a distinct bite to her words. He expected nothing less from a loyal soldier like Genie. But there were more pressing matters at the moment.

“Instead of wasting your time arresting me, why don’t you make sure the ships are secure so I can get your rigid ass back to the jump port and your team across the divide before the Muloons return with more firepower?”

She shook her head slightly. Strands of shiny, wheat-colored hair fell from its ties under her flak helmet and brushed her shoulders. “They probably work for you and this is just another one of your brilliant double-crosses.”

“It’s not. They

will be back. Mark my words.”"From where I’m standing, your word isn’t worth much.”

No, it wouldn’t be. But he’d made his own bed where Genie was concerned.

The synchronized stomp of booted feet vibrated the floor under Bowen’s backside.

He’d told his men not to let anyone on the bridge and here they’d gone and let the one person in the beta dimension he was trying to avoid right into the cockpit. A shit storm was about to rain on his parade.

Someone was going to get hurt. Real bad.

He knew when he’d picked up her voice on the distress call it would be a bad idea to get involved. But he couldn’t stand by and not attempt to rescue the disabled vehicle. Even so, he had to tread carefully here or his entire operation would disintegrate like a house of ash. Or they’d all get killed by the Muloons.

“Cap’n!” Cozan yelled at him from the door for instructions.

Since he had no doubt that Genie would shoot him if he didn’t let her security team onto the bridge, and as long as he was alive, he could help them fight off the Muloons, he used his only option left. “Bring ’em on.”

Genie narrowed her eyes and indicated Bowen with a wave of her gun. “Cuff him and lock him to the bulkhead in the empty storage hold.”

Bowen didn’t miss the looks exchanged between the officers, but they didn’t question her orders.

The largest of the guards started to reach for his arm. Bowen pushed to his feet and turned his back, presenting them with his wrists. The electronic cuffs clicked into place with a finality that raised a lump in his throat.

If he had to die now, so be it. He just didn’t like thinking of his impending demise with objectives left unmet.

The guard patted him down, relieving Bowen of his more obvious weapons—two laser pistols, an antique 9mm, and a ceramic-bladed hunting knife. The guard spun him back around to face the Major.

“Who is your second-in-command?” Genie hadn’t relaxed her guard, even after his hands were secured behind his back.

“There is no second.”

“Then you better name one.”

Bowen watched her finger move a fraction, putting more pressure on the trigger. He shrugged with indifference. “What does it matter, you’re going to seize the ship, right?”

“That’s the greatest irony of all. Blackbeard’s vessel seized by the authorities. I can transfer my cargo and have mission control bring us in manually.” She shivered as if the very idea made her tingle all over.

Bowen didn’t bother to suppress the crack of a smile as it filled the side of his mouth. He used to love it when she’d shiver like that. Most of the time it was while they were going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. The memory alone made his dick hard. It was definitely not the right time or place for a walk down memory lane with her. But he couldn’t resist. He hadn’t been able to shake her with threats of the Muloons, maybe bringing up their illicit past would get the job done.

As the guards started to move him past her, he leaned over and lowered his voice so only she could hear him. “You used to love it when we played pirate games.”

*********

High Octane by Kathleen Scott available now from Samhain Publishing

Thanks Sandra, I hope you and your readers enjoy!

-Kathleen Scott

High Octane cover - Look at the size of that gun! Wowzers!

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Life and HEAs

December 26, 2009 at 5:00 am | Category: Guest Blogger, blog

Back this past summer when Sandra invited me to do a guest blog (thank you Sandra!), I thought, Cool! I’ve got about five months to write a post. Not too hard to do. Guess what? It’s now the day before Christmas Eve, and I’m trying to figure out what to write about here. So after some thought, actually it was a three paragraph ramble, I came to the conclusion that the topic would be about my love for stories, atmosphere and my newest release.

I like to tell a story that carry readers away from their daily life and put them in a world where just about anything is possible and the HEA is guaranteed. I think that “carried away” thing is why I like exotic settings or stories where the characters have ties to exotic places. It allows me to explore places I want to visit one day or those places I know I’ll never see. That’s the thing I love about books. They’re inexpensive transportation vehicles. Your mind does the walking to paraphrase an old commercial. The more exotic the setting, the more research you need (unless you’ve lived in the location) to get the ambiance correct.

With my upcoming Berkley Sensation release, Kismet, I worked hard to create the right atmosphere so that I could whisk my readers away to a world they might never visit. (Read an excerpt) I also wanted to create characters a reader would fall in love with. In the process, I wrote a book that has some roots in personal experience, and it became a cathartic experience that opened up old wounds and served to heal some of the pain that came with it.

As a courtesan, Allegra is extremely independent and always in control of her life. When that control is ripped from her, she’s not just angry; she’s experiences feeling lost and frightened. I think those emotions have happened to a great many of us at one time or another. Allegra is also extremely independent and determined not to take any flack. She’s her own person and refuses to be brow beaten.

Shaheen’s issues are rooted in a need for approval and a guilt his father threw onto the shoulders of the boy he once was. Worse, he allowed a courtesan to come between him and his brother at a very high price. When he meets Allegra, he has no desire to be impressed, but he is. Like most alpha males, this doesn’t make him happy. He figures it’s his body talking, but deep inside he knows it’s something else, but he’s damn well not going to admit it.

Against the background of the Moroccan plain, these two characters come to realize that the love they thought would always be denied them might actually be a realistic possibility. What I love the most about this story is that it’s about survival. It’s about experiencing a terrible event and having the inner strength to rise above it all. I understand that need, desire, to survive based on personal experience. There are things in life that can make one wish for it all to end, and yet with a little bit of faith, the offering of an outstretched hand, and a lot of love, that HEA is never too far away. It’s Kismet actually. It’s about believing in one’s destiny, and having the hope that despite life’s trials and tribulations we can all have a HEA of some kind.

So tell me about a HEA you’ve had in your life. Did you have to walk on fire to get there?

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Crazy Holiday Traditions ~ Roosters & Hens & Beets, Oh My!

December 24, 2009 at 10:52 am | Category: blog

If you gather with family every year for the holidays, I’m sure there’s got to be one holiday tradition that stands out for you. Whether it comes from way back, or in my case, was created as a practical joke…

Yeah, you read it right. Practical Joke.

But, I’ll get to that in a second. As I was saying, traditions abound during the holidays. There are some steeped in old lore, Catholic, and Pagan, and everything else. Some are even a combination. I was just reading up on the holiday tradition of Kucios, which is what I celebrate with the husband’s family each Christmas Eve. It is a traditional Lithuanian celebration. And it is a total mixture of Catholic and Pagan practices. And really, I find it all very cool.

Now, we don’t follow all of the things mentioned in the Wiki about Kucios…Ummm, cause I might have been a little icked out, shocked at the very least, by the practice of pulling a rooster and hen from beneath the stove (Seriously? They just sort of hang out under there? I mean, with the whole house available to them?) and their tails are tied together. (Riiiight). So, if the rooster pulls the hen to the door, (Umm, why didn’t he try freedom in the first place…) there will be a wedding that year. But if he pulls her back under the stove, no wedding. Hmmm. Something’s got to be going on under that stove. Maybe they’ve got it backwards. Maybe there’s gonna be lots of little hens and roosters later that spring cause of the fun that’s had under that stove…

*Ahem* ANYWAY, there are some really cool rituals and traditions that are practiced during Kucios. Only some of the more tame ones, like passing the wafer to each person around the table, are what we do. As they break a piece off, the person handing it to them makes a wish for the coming year. In our family, this can be a time of jesting and good natured teasing.  Or, it can be heartfelt and endearing.  None of us care which type of wish we get.  It’s all about the gathering, after all.

So, that’s what the Barkevich family will be doing this…what?  That practical joke tradition?  Sigh.  I suppose I did say I’d tell you all about it.  Okay, here it is~

When I first met my now husband, he invited me to spend Christmas Eve with his family.  This would be the first large dinner I’d be spending with them.  In fact, there would be new members of the family I had yet to meet there.  I was a little nervous.  That aside, I was also excited.  I love my extended family.  They’re lots of fun and full of love.  They’re wonderful people.  Okay, so my then boyfriend, tells his mother that I was raised to eat whatever is placed before me.  No matter my like or DISLIKE of the food in question.  (Hey!  My mom brought me up well.  What can I say. I make my kidlets do the same thing.)

Well, he also informed her of my great, huge, IMENCE, dislike of beets.  Blech.  They taste like dirt.  Seriously, I do not like them…not with ham, not with…oh, um.  I digress.

So, my future mother-in-law decided to inform me of the very important old family tradition of eating beets on Christmas Eve.  It’s a must.  Eating beets on Christmas Eve will bring prosperity and good fortune in the coming year.  (Mind you, I’d have eaten them regardless.  The whole, you have to eat whatever is placed before you rule, and all.)

Man, oh man, I choked those things down.  My eyes watered, my stomach turned, but I got ‘em down.  And had a lovely time with my new family.

It wasn’t until the following summer that my future mother-in-law came clean.  She confessed her dirty little secret.  There was never a beet tradition.  She’d made the whole thing up. Nope.  Eating beets didn’t bring prosperity or good fortune…

Except, it had.  For me.  I was with a wonderful family, I’d gotten a new, much better paying job, I was in love.  Those beets did hold some magic for me.  And to this day, I eat beets once a year.  ONLY ONCE A YEAR.  On Christmas Eve.  And my wonderful mother-in-law, that I love with all my heart, has spent each year trying to find a beet recipe that I will actually like.  (And she kind of did.  Last year.  It wasn’t so bad, the beet soup, she made.  I requested it again this year.)

So, what does your family do this time of year?  What’s your big, or small, family tradition?

Happy Holidays!

~Sandy

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So The Holidays are Upon Us…

December 19, 2009 at 12:55 pm | Category: blog

I’ve posted at Romantic Inks today.  Stop on by and check it out.

Happy Holidays!

Sandy

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Of Apple Cider and Foot Massages

November 7, 2009 at 8:57 pm | Category: Guest Blogger, blog

Today was a strange, strange day. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just A Day.

I had writing goals for today, as I always do. I try to write every single day, a minimum of a thousand words, and slightly more now because I’m under deadline on one book and madly working to put together a proposal on a book I want to write so badly I’m giddy with love for it.

First, I went grocery shopping and picked up a bunch of stuff I was desperately out of, including allergy meds, which no one wants to see me without, especially me. And wow, that was a long sentence. But I digress. I also happened to wander by the drink aisle and found a brand of hot apple cider that I fell in love with way back in grad school. Oh, yeah, that went home with me.

But I got to the front of the store and there were no check stands open. None. I had to do self-check out, which I like when I have a few items, but not when I have an enormous basket of melting frozen items and wilting lettuce smushed under my canned goods. The manager actually looked at me like I was an idiot for trying to self-check with so many items. He got the Hairy Eyeball look in return. Cuz, seriously! I didn’t want to be there either! I hate shopping. A lot.

As we can see, it hates me back.

Then I came home to try to sit down and write and make those daily goals so I could forget the pain of the little automatic voice telling me to put my items back on the weigher thingy (technical term). And then my downstairs neighbor starting playing music so loud it shook my floor and gave me a foot massage. No writing got done. At all. I couldn’t concentrate with the floor vibrating.

I also had car issues today, which meant I had to cancel dinner with a good writer friend I haven’t seen in a while. That was the crowning blow for the day. Seriously, it took the cake. It didn’t help we were going to an amazing restaurant together that we both love and have fond memories of.

So, I suppose, while I’m sitting here sipping my apple cider–not eating my awesome food with my awesome friend–and getting my slightly nauseating foot rub, that what I want to say is stuff happens and that means there are days you get a free pass on the writing. Don’t feel guilty. Just don’t let it become a habit that gets you out of the habit of writing.

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