annathepiper: (Beckett and Book)

I owe Elizabeth Harmon a big ol’ public apology–because I had her booked on Boosting the Signal LAST WEEK, not THIS WEEK, and I completely flipped her date with Ruth Casie. So I missed the window to tell you all about the giveaway Elizabeth was running for her latest novella release! AUGH! Sorry Elizabeth! Also apologies to Ruth, since I posted her too early as well.

BUT ANYWAY. Elizabeth has been here before, with Turning It On and Getting It Back. Her latest release is in this same series: the novella Heating It Up.

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Heating It Up

Heating It Up

From Elizabeth:

It’s great to be back on Boosting The Signal, to talk about Heating It Up: A Red Hot Russians Novella, the newest release in my Red Hot Russians series.

Heating It Up began with its setting, Amity Bay, a soon to be shuttered research station in Antarctica. I’ve always found the icy continent fascinating, but I’d never read a romance set there. I wanted to contrast the harsh, isolated surroundings, with the cozy warmth of a small town romance, and also add an off-beat vibe, similar to one of my favorite 1990s TV series, Northern Exposure.

Heating It Up’s Red Hot Russian hero is rugged Alexei Zaikov, Amity Bay’s station manager. Heroine Nora Bradford is a sophisticated American fish out of water who wants to spend the long dark Antarctic winter alone and grieve the devastating losses of her fiance, and career.

But Nora has a secret, one that could devastate Alexei and doom their romance. Read on, as Nora tells her story.

Everyone has that little thing that makes them crazy. For my mother, it was swearing. All I had to do to set her off was drop the f-word into a conversation. Not that went looking for ways to antagonize her. I’ve always been a peaceful person. Miss Go Along to Get Along, who rarely make waves.

Except for that once time when I did. But more about that later.

My name is Nora Bradford and I’m 26. Most people would consider that young, but not me. The last two years have felt like ten. That’s what happens when you have a perfect, beautiful life all planned out, and then one day, everything changes.

That one day was a Friday, and I was at work, at the San Francisco offices of Quinn & Associates, one of the worlds’ top firms specializing in sustainable architecture. After finishing my master’s in architecture at Stanford, I was an associate working on a plum project. I was engaged to Blake, the love of my life, who’d gone down to Belize with friends for a weekend diving trip. Life was perfect until that phone call, telling me Blake had drowned.

Just like that, my perfect, beautiful life was gone.

All that was left was my work, designing a sustainable luxury guesthouse to replace an obsolete Antarctic research station. Blake had been especially excited about this project and pouring everything I had into Glacier Ridge Lodge was a way to hold onto him. My boss Herbert Quinn, raved about my work, and told me that when the project was finished, he’d promote me to partner.

Near the end of construction, our firm traveled down to Antarctica. The beautiful building was everything I’d imagined. Antarctica, utterly breathtaking. There was even a hunky, rugged station manager, who asked me out. And though I still couldn’t picture myself with anyone besides Blake, there was something about Alexei Zaikov that drew me.

But I kept my distance. After all, I was the lead designer on the building that was going to put him, and everyone else living at the broken-down Amity Bay station, out of work. Not a good foundation for a relationship.

And within my firm, I had a growing sense something wasn’t right. My colleague Mark Jenkins, whose contributions to the project had been minimal, suddenly became the go-to guy, while I was relegated to making coffee. I’d also become too emotionally attached to the lodge, which had become my memorial for Blake and the beautiful life we would have shared. But no matter how much you want to hang onto the past, it’s gone.

Which brings me back to that thing which sets me off everytime, and any woman working in a male-dominated field knows exactly what I mean: mansplaining.

Three nights before we were to leave Antarctica, Herbert announced that Quinn & Associates’ newest partner was Mark Jenkins, not me. When I confronted Herbert, he told me that because I was young and lacked “professional authority,” it was somehow okay to take what he’d promised me, and give it to someone else who’d done less, but deserved it more, thanks to his all-important “professional authority.”

Profound grief and too much New Zealand Shiraz can really mess with your judgement. Herbert’s mansplain triggered an ugly tirade that would have horrified my poor mother. He survived it, but my career didn’t. Unemployed and alone, there was only one place I wanted to be. It took some devious finagling, but I found a way to stay behind at the now-deserted Glacier Ridge Lodge, the only place where life still makes sense.

Spending the winter alone in Antarctica…what could possibly go wrong?

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Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Castle and Beckett and Book)

It’s been a while since I had a Boosting the Signal post to share with y’all! But my Here Be Magic compatriot Ruth A. Casie approached me about sending me a piece, and my door’s always open for my HBM crowd. Ruth’s been here before, y’all may recall, with The Guardian’s Witch. Now she’s back with another historical romance in the same series, and another character interview! And I’ll say about this one what I did about the previous: I do rather like that cover! Also, I do really rather like the NPR-ish flavor of this piece. Check it out.

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The Highlander's English Woman

The Highlander’s English Woman

The Inside Scoop
Interview with Lord Bryce Mitchell

Welcome to The Inside Scoop, Radio Transcripts of Guest Interviews. My name is Justin Case, host and executive producer of The Inside Scoop, where we interview the characters in the stories created by author Ruth A. Casie.

This was the fourth interview of characters in The Stelton Legacy series and took place in front of a live audience. I ask everyone to sit back and imagine sitting in a comfortable chair and talking with my guests. I hope my interview is informative and thought provoking and that you enjoy reading them as much as I had conducting them.

If these interviews spur questions of your own, contact me via Ms. Casie at Ruth@RuthACasie.com. She and I will work together to get you answers.

Previously Recorded

Justin Case: Thank you for joining me today at The Inside Scoop. I’m your host and moderator, Justin Case. We’re about to interview Lord Bryce Mitchell of Ravencroft, the neighboring estate to the Reynolds family of Glen Kirk Castle. To clarify, both domains are on the English side of the Scottish border. Through Lord Bryce’s service to the king, he is also a close friend of Lord Alex Stelton, the guardian of Glen Kirk Castle.

Lord Bryce makes appearances in The Guardian’s Witch, The Maxwell Ghost and The Highlander’s English Woman. You can see he’s an integral part of the Stelton Legacy story. Ah, I see him approaching now.

You can’t miss the man, always dressed in black, holding his signature black leather gloves. He has a shot of black hair and a well-trimmed beard. He walks with a commanding air that I suspect has served him well in court. He certainly looks the part of the black knight. Intimidation has served him well. He’s been battled trained through his youth alongside his neighbor and close friend, Richard Reynolds and cheered on by Richard’s sister, Laura.

(Sound of footsteps approaching)

Justin Case: Good afternoon, my Lord. I’m so glad you could join us today.

Lord Bryce: Case. (A slight nod of acceptance as he sits) Many thanks for the invitation. (He looks at the tankard by his chair)

Justin Case: I secured it from Glen Kirk Castle. (He motions toward the tankard) I understand it’s your favorite brew.

Lord Bryce: (A smile breaks his set expression) Glen Kirk is renowned for its fine ale. It’s even prized by the king.

Justin Case: I understand the Mitchell and Reynolds families have been neighbors for quite some time.

Lord Bryce: My family has held Ravencroft and the Reynolds have held Glen Kirk Castle for centuries.

Justin Case: (Flipping through notes) My sources tell me you have been fond of Lady Laura Reynolds for some time.

Lord Bryce: (His steely eyes take on a dangerous glint. Justin Case mops his brow.) It was a political strategy, I assure you. It’s the thirteenth century. Combining our houses would have ensured the safety and longevity of the castle, besides I’m sure it would please the king to have an Englishman hold the castle and not a Scottish sympathizer.

Justin Case: I understand Laura was called away to Scotland before her parents discussed your proposal with her.

Lord Bryce: Laura went with the Scottish bastard Jamie Maxwell Collins to Caerlaverock Castle to visit with her distant relations. Lord Maxwell saw an opportunity to secure Glen Kirk Castle for his family. If his nephew Jamie married Laura it would further tighten the Maxwell stronghold on both sides of the border.

Justin Case: You grew up and trained with Jamie. He was fostered to the Lord at Glen Kirk. He was—

Lord Bryce: (Bending menacingly forward toward Justin Case) I wouldn’t go there if I were you. Jamie was a filthy Scot who didn’t deserve the air he breathed.

Justin Case: I understand m’lord. That doesn’t change the fact that he married Lady Laura and that their marriage was sanctioned by the King of England himself. Not an easy thing for a Scot in the thirteenth century.

Lord Bryce: Not marrying into the family was a relief. You know the women are all witches—every last one of them. (Bryce glares at Justin Case) And you know what they do to witches.

Justin Case: Lord Bryce, surely you don’t mean—

Lord Bryce: I certainly do. As well as everyone who harbors and supports them no matter who they are or what position they hold. Do you support the arcane arts? (Bryce rhythmically slaps his gloves against his thigh)

Justin Case: I mean no disrespect, m’lord. But the healing arts which the Reynolds’ women are known for is not witchcraft.

Lord Bryce: (Stands up) You think that’s all they do? You have a lot to learn. Read the stories. It is all there, and then you tell me they’re not witches.

Justin Case: (Stands up) I will read the stories, sir. And we will meet again to discuss them. Thank you for your time.

(Retreating footsteps are heard as Lord Bryce leaves the studio)

Justin Case: (Turning toward the audience) Thank you for joining me today. I hope you enjoyed learning about Lord Bryce Mitchell and the part he plays in The Stelton Legacy.

Before you leave, I’d like to acknowledge our station and staff at WRAC for their commitment and fortitude to see this project to fruition. Many technologies had to be developed to make this happen and credit must be given where credit is deserved.

General Manager — Norma Leigh Lucid
Studio Manager — Helen Back
Maintenance Supervisors — Earl E. Bird and Ella Vada
Musical Supervisor — Kerry Oki
Electrical Engineers — Flint Sparks and Les Volt
Sound Crew — Mike Rafone and Constance Hum
Traffic Manager — Joy Rider
Legal Advisor — Sara Bellum
Researchers — Paige Turner and Rita Booke
Commissary Director — Jasmine Rice
Security Directors — Barry Cade and Anna Conda
Funded by donors Hy Price and his wonderful wife Lois Price

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Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Castle and Beckett and Book)

Caitlin Sinead is another repeat visitor to Boosting the Signal–she came by earlier this year with her release of Heartsick, and now she’s back again with her next Carina title, the politically-themed New Adult romance Red Blooded! This time she’s offering a direct excerpt from the book, wherein her character Peyton needs to pull off two goals at once: surviving the grilling of her campaign manager… and surviving the presence of Dylan. Peyton clearly has her hands full!

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Red Blooded

Red Blooded

There’s a loud thump and some profanity on the other side of the door. Bain doesn’t wait for me to say “come in.” He barrels through with a couple of staffers bobbing along behind him. If the crowd below is intense, these staffers are downright ferocious.

“Peyton,” Bain says with a clap, as though I’m his best friend. “How’s the speech coming?”

I smile and straighten my shoulders and try to respond, but I can’t help seeing the way Gin, one of the staffers, snidely asks Dylan how “work” is going. Yeah, he uses air quotes. Dylan cocks his head and—

“Peyton!” Bain snaps everyone’s attention back to him.

“Yeah, the speech,” I say. “It’s good, I feel good about it.”

Bain sticks his legal pad under his armpit. “All right, let’s hear it.”

“Right now?” I swallow and rub my fingers against my palms.

“Right now.” Bain stares at me. Dylan scrolls in his tablet and hands it to me, my speech all lined up. This isn’t necessary though. I’ve memorized it.

I memorized it because that’s something I can control. There are too many other things I can’t control. Like my mouth, which is now so dry, it’s hard to open.

“Honey,” Bain says, and his inflection makes an otherwise endearing address sound caustic. “If you can’t do it in front of me, how do you expect to do it in front of America?”

“I got it, okay.” I stare him down. Or, at least, I try to.

I start off in a low voice and only shake, oh, about the level of a 4.2 earthquake when Bain snaps, “Louder and look up.”

I look up, but my words trip and fall over each other. All I can think about is how Bain should retire to one of those little islands where the drinks have umbrellas. He’d like that, right? Yeah, he should retire and leave me the fuck alone.

“Stop, stop,” Bain says. “Gin, make yourself useful and get her a fucking cup of water.”

Gin dashes to the bathroom.

“Peyton, I know I’m not your favorite person. But you need to look up when you talk. Speak loudly and clearly.” As if in demonstration, he locks my eyes and continues in a slow, precise voice. “If you stumble, we’ll know it’s because you’re nervous or distracted. But America will think it’s because you don’t believe what you’re saying.”

Gin dashes back with my water so fast he trips. The cup goes flying, drenching my right side.

Cold shocks my skin, but Gin looks worse. He’s red and still on his knees. I reach down to help him up. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Bain looks to the ceiling, a vein in his neck threatening to pop out. “Peyton has to meet with fucking funders in twenty minutes.”

He says it as though Gin wouldn’t have accidentally spilled water on me if only he’d known that fact.

“It’s okay,” I say, flipping my dress away from my leg and dabbing it with some paper towels that Dylan hands me. “If we can find a blow dryer or something it won’t take long at all to—”

Bain snaps his fingers and juts his thumb in Gin’s direction.

Gin scrambles out of the room.

Bain sighs. “Dylan, get over here.”

Dylan strides to Bain, and Bain puts his hands on Dylan’s shoulders, turning him to face me.

“Okay, you don’t need to say your speech looking at me, but you need to be looking at someone. So, can you keep your eyes on him while you talk?”

“Yes,” I say, but too softly for Bain’s liking.

He puts his hand behind his ear and leans toward me. “I’m sorry, did you say—”

“Yes!” I yell. I breathe in. Before Bain can mock me again, I start my speech. “I didn’t have any siblings…”

I focus on Dylan’s brown eyes. When he smiles, I get lost somewhere between the memorized words and muddy comfort. When I start talking about my dad, Dylan’s eyes crease, his chin dips forward further. He coaxes the words out. He coaxes the memories.

“…Please help us welcome the next Vice President of the United States of America,” I conclude, but don’t look away from Dylan.

He grins and pulls something out of his pocket. A neatly folded tissue.

I barely hear Bain’s booming voice as he exits the room, off to complete another task on his long to-do list. “Fucking fantastic, Peyton, just like that.”

I take the tissue and glide it under my eye.

Gin scrambles in with a hair dryer and holds it out to me. “It’s fine, really,” I say. He looks around and, realizing Bain’s gone, he shrugs and leaves.

I go to the corner and plug the hair dryer in. At first I turn it on my leg, but that’s of course too hot. I try to hold my dress out myself, but really, it would be best if…

“Why don’t I hold the hair dryer and you hold your dress,” Dylan says, taking the tool out of my hand.

I hold it out for him as he delicately sprays warm air toward some of my more sensitive parts. He’s got to get close to do it correctly, so when he looks up and asks me if it’s too hot, his breath is only a couple of inches from my mouth. He’s got me cornered.

My face warms.

He clicks off the hair dryer. “This is kind of ridiculous.”

“I’ll take my dress off.”

His mouth parts.

“In the bathroom,” I say, pointing.

He laughs, but it’s this weird laugh that’s more of a grunt. I guess we’re back to the frustrated grunts. He steps aside and I brush by him.

I stand alone in my underwear in the bathroom, blowing the bottom of my dress dry. Just another day on the campaign trail.

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Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Book Geek)

Fellow Carina author Caitlin Sinead has a New Adult book out this week, one that straddles the line between mystery and romance. Heartsick tells a tale of a mysterious affliction spreading through a college town and turning everyone’s eyes purple–and in today’s Boosting the Signal post, we’ve got a character interview with someone who I daresay will be part of the research into this very problem! Though his goals appear to be rather more basic than that, too. Let’s let Zachary tell you all about it!

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Heartsick

Heartsick

Allan High School Principal: As a continuing university outreach project, we have another Poe University student here to talk with you. We welcome Zachary Leibowitz, a graduate student in the biology program. Thanks, Zachary, for coming by. What first interested you in a science career?

Zachary: I thought it would get me girls. *grins*

Principal: Ha, and how is that working out for you?

Zachary: The most amazing woman I’ve ever met is dating me, so, I’d say pretty well. Seriously, she’s awesome. She laughs at almost all my jokes and she can build a mini hut out of sugar packets. Kids, let me tell you, some people will try to tell you there are more important things to consider when assessing a potential girlfriend, like trust fund sizes, but it’s all about laughter. And sugar packets.

Principal: I’m glad you’re love life is going well, but—

Zachary: Swimmingly!

Principal: Okay, swimmingly, but let’s get back to your career. What made you want to study viruses?

Zachary: The human body is amazing. It can run on nothing but Tostinos and orange juice for eight straight days. I know this because I’ve tried it. But then these tiny viruses can come in and mess with all that important cellular machinery and completely crash the party. I’ve always found that interaction interesting.

Principal: So, you want to stop viruses?

Zachary: I wouldn’t use the word “stop.” I want to understand them. Sometimes the guy who crashes the party ends up being the life of the party…I know this because it’s often me. Bringing Tostinos doesn’t hurt.

Principal: Have you enjoyed your time at Poe University?

Zachary: Yes. My advisor has supported my whacky ideas and the other students in the program are brilliant and friendly. It’s been great. I’ve also really enjoyed Allan. I know not everyone in Allan thinks Poe students are great, especially after…well… *shifts in seat* but, anyway, I think if we can get past our differences we can accomplish some really amazing things together.

Principal: Thank you for your thoughts on that, and for stopping by today.

Zachary: Of course, thanks for having me. And I’m happy to stay and talk with anyone who’s interested in becoming a scientist. As I said, that’s how to get the girls. *winks*

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Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Beckett and Book)

Got another doubleheader on Boosting the Signal today, folks–and specifically, a Carina doubleheader! Our first post is for Amylynn Bright’s new romantic comedy release, Cooking Up Love. And I think it’s safe to say that her heroine Holly has a very sensible goal: i.e., not wanting her kitchen to EXPLODE. Well, that, and she’s a food critic, so you’d think she should know something about food, right? Speaking as someone who is just barely able to boil water without burning it, though, I would just like to note categorically and for the record that to date, I have not actually set any kitchen appliances on fire.

(We won’t talk about how my wife has banished me from the kitchen.)

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Cooking Up Love

Cooking Up Love

A copy of the homeowners insurance claim form Holly Darcy filed after the incident.

Date and Time of Occurrence: Yesterday at dinner time

Location of Occurrence: The general kitchen area in my condo

Type of Occurrence: Small, alright medium, kitchen fire. (I’ve had bigger if that matters)

Property Damaged: Self-cleaning Freestanding Electric Stainless-Steel Convection Range – 4 months old. (Was this purchase overly optimistic? Probably.)

Describe the Occurrence: Boy, I’m tired of filling out these forms. Too bad I can’t just copy the last claim, huh? Well, this time I’d already taken off my work clothes and was in my pajamas. That’s what really started the problem. I should have stopped for take-out. There was no way I was going to eat pizza again and the guy at the Chinese place already calls me honey, I’m in there so often. Still, I know better. I have no idea what got into me. Some sort of inflated sense of accomplishment since I’d had a really great day at work, I guess. I thought I could handle a Lean Cuisine. I mean how hard is that? The directions on the box seem deceptively easy. I thought I’d brave the oven instead of the microwave—mostly because I hadn’t cleaned out the microwave since that mac & cheese explosion from Tuesday. I can’t honestly tell you what happened from there. Is it possible my oven is possessed? It seems crazy I know, but perhaps an exorcism is in order. Maybe the meal is supposed to come out of the box before you put it in the oven? Anyway, I may have forgotten to check on it like the box said. I do know for sure I never stirred it as per the directions. The next thing you know that damn fire alarm is going off and the kitchen is filled with smoke again. The regular fire department guys came in the big truck. I have no idea why they always send the big truck. It’s a small kitchen. Anyway, Captain Gary said the oven was a total loss. This is the second one this year. I don’t know if I should bother to replace it, but leaving a hole in the kitchen is admitting defeat, isn’t it? Jeez, all I wanted was some dinner.

Suggested Course of Action: I’m certain that you’re as tired of receiving my claim requests as I am of writing them. I have enrolled in a cooking class for beginners and I’m very optimistic. Cross your crossables.

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Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Beckett and Book)

Due to my recent illness, this post, which was actually supposed to go up last week, is going up tonight instead! Kate was very gracious about the delay, so I hope y’all will give her an extra bonus ear.

Kate Willoughby is a fellow Carina author, who writes in a genre that would not normally come across my radar at all: sports romance! But given that in this case the sport in question is hockey, and I’ve got a lot of friends in both Canada AND the States who are hockey-inclined, I thought I’d give her a chance to tell y’all about her book and about herself.

She happily writes her hockey romances in Southern California. She’s married and has two sons, a dog, and a fish. When she’s not writing, she’s watching hockey. When it’s not hockey season, she whines a lot.

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On the Surface

On the Surface

From NHL player Tim Hollander’s journal

So I read an article that talked about the magic of intent and how if you write something down, somehow, some way, things happen. Just because you wrote it down. So I’m trying it. It probably won’t work, but what the fuck, it can’t hurt. Right?

I just got traded to San Diego. As I write, it’s exactly eight hours since I got notified. And I have to say I’m stunned.

In a way, it’s not surprising. I’ve been playing like shit. I know it. The Blackhawks know it. Hell, THE WORLD knows it. But at the same time, it hurts. It really fucking hurts. We were a damn family. The team, management, the trainers, coaches–everyone in the organization was there for me when Mollie got sick, which meant a lot. They did everything they could to help and support me and Wave through it all. So it’s tough to take the trade with all that history. But you know what? Hockey’s a business, bottom line.

So, now I’m moving to San Diego. I’m getting used to the idea now and I’m beginning to see this is an opportunity to get a fresh start. In a new city thousands of miles away from Chicago, I won’t be blindsided by memories of Mollie wherever I go. I’m going to play for the Barracudas, and GOAL NUMBER ONE is to show them they didn’t make a mistake. I’m going to play my fucking ass off for them. I’m going to spend the summer training hard, getting my head back in the game. I’m going to get fired up and focused.

GOAL NUMBER TWO…

Hell. I don’t really have another goal right now. A new car, maybe. Get a tan? I don’t know. Get free of the past. That’s the most important thing.

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Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Page Turner)

Veronica Scott is one of my fellow authors from the Here Be Magic crowd at Carina Press! She writes the Egyptian Gods series for Carina, but she’s also got some indie work, and this post is about one of those! Wreck of the Nebula Dream is SF adventure with a side helping of romance, and if you’re a fan of the lore of the Titanic sinking, you may well find this book to your tastes–because it draws a lot of inspiration from that. This book won awards in 2013, and got a lot of highly favorable commentary from the SFR (science fiction romance) community.

You don’t need to stretch much to figure out what her hero’s goal is in this story: save lives. Check it out!

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Wreck of the Nebula Dream

Wreck of the Nebula Dream

Captain Nick Jameson, Sectors Special Forces, reporting as ordered for the interview. I don’t usually talk about that time on the Nebula Dream–I think pretty much everyone in the Sectors knows the story of how she was the newest, most luxurious spaceliner ever built, destroyed on her maiden voyage, with a huge loss of life. I happened to be the right guy, in the wrong place – what was a solder like me doing hobnobbing with the rich and high powered on such a ship, you may ask? Asked myself that, more than once on the first few days of the voyage. Usually when I was getting drunk in my cabin, trying to blot out the memories of my last disaster of a mission. If the ship’s Second Officer hadn’t given me a tour, trying to impress me with the new tech, if I hadn’t met Mara Lyrae, first on the shuttle and then again in the Casino…well, I might have opted for finishing the trip in cryo sleep and then where would we all be? Dead or worse, that’s where.

Mara’s pretty amazing. She was a Vice President for Loxton Galactic Shipping at the time, doing big business deals, wheeling and dealing across the Sectors. But the moment the ship was in trouble, she was right there, brave as any soldier I ever served with, ready to do what had to be done to save lives. I tried to get her off in a lifeboat right after the crash but she wasn’t having any of that, no, sir. Mara is stubborn. There were some kids trapped in a cabin close to hers up on the next level and she wasn’t leaving the Nebula Dream without them. We had some pretty tense moments rescuing them, let me tell you.

Couldn’t have done it without Khevan, member of the D’nvannae Brotherhood. He’s just as scary smart and strong as the legends say those guys are, with a healthy dose of spooky stuff going on between him and the Red Lady his order serves. I don’t know if she’s a goddess or an alien or what she is, but she came through when we needed her. Of course then she tried to kill poor Khevan because she was mad at him but that’s another story. Talk to him about that.

Then there was Twilka, the Socialite. I gotta say I thought Twilka was going to be dead weight for my little group. Worse than the two kids! Spoiled rich girl, totally in her own version of reality, went off looking for her jewelry when we had to risk going down into the hold to find some gear I needed. But, she did pull her weight later when events demanded she step up. I’ve got no complaints about her and if she ever needs my help, I’ll be there.

Lady Damais? I uh, I still can’t talk about her, not in any detail. What she did for me, for all of us that night on the Nebula Dream, well, there are no words. I know she was an old lady, pretty ill by all the signs, but she had more guts than many a soldier I’ve served with.

So those were the people I was directly responsible for, while we were running around the Nebula Dream that night. The AI was trying to hold her together for me, maintain air and artificial gravity levels where I needed to be. My challenges? Find my gear, call for help, keep us alive till help arrived, fight off the enemy forces that showed up, ask Mara to have dinner with me if we actually did survive…yeah, long night. Not to mention various other surprises and developments that kept getting thrown at us. If only there’d been enough lifeboats. Lot of “if only” about the wreck.

Later some reporter told me about a shipwreck in ancient times, on Old Earth, where a lot of good people didn’t make it either. The Titanic, I think? Looked it up one day, sounds like her officers and a lot of brave people did the best they could too, against overwhelming circumstances. Freezing ocean or freezing outer space, innocent men, women and children in harm’s way, too many lost.

The story for WRECK OF THE NEBULA DREAM, a 2013 SFR Galaxy Award and Laurel Wreath Winner:

Traveling unexpectedly aboard the luxury liner Nebula Dream on its maiden voyage across the galaxy, Sectors Special Forces Captain Nick Jameson is ready for ten relaxing days, and hoping to forget his last disastrous mission behind enemy lines. All his plans vaporize when the ship suffers a wreck of Titanic proportions. Captain and crew abandon ship, leaving the 8000 passengers stranded without enough lifeboats and drifting unarmed in enemy territory. Aided by Mara, Nick must find a way off the doomed ship for himself and other innocent people before deadly enemy forces reach them or the ship’s malfunctioning engines finish ticking down to self destruction.

But can Nick conquer the demons from his past that tell him he’ll fail these innocent people just as he failed to save his Special Forces team? Will he outpace his own doubts to win this vital race against time?

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Buy the Book: Amazon (Kindle edition) | Amazon (print) | Amazon (audiobook) | Barnes and Noble | All Romance eBooks | iBooks | Google Play | Kobo | Smashwords

Follow the Author On: Facebook | Twitter | Official site

Mirrored from angelahighland.com.

annathepiper: (Default)
I have a confession to make.

I like Elizabeth Lowell books. Specifically, her Rarities Unlimited series, and her Donovans series. I like reading about big, competent, handsome, tough guys and strikingly beautiful, stunningly intelligent women on suspenseful hunts for rare and valuable items, dodging bullets and murder attempts while they're alternating between smooching one another senseless and driving each other batshit with the clashes of their wills and tempers.

There. I've said it. And I'll SAY IT AGAIN IF I HAVE TO!

And I read Tami Hoag and J.D. Robb, too!

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Anna the Piper

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