Beverley Bateman writes romantic suspense and medical thrillers — and that’s a genre I haven’t seen much of in a long time! If you like your white-coated doctor heroes, do check some of Beverley’s back-list out.
In the meantime, let’s get to know Beverley a bit better:
Who are your favourite authors?
J D Robb (what can I say, I love Rourke); Robin Carr; Jerrie Alexander; Paul Carr and Karen Rose
What’s your favourite novel cover?
Wow, that’s hard. There are so many good ones. I’m going to say Black Palmeto by Paul Carr.
Mr. Darcy after he has worked so hard to make himself into the person Elizabeth could love.
What’s the best Hero Moment you’ve ever read in a book?
I can’t help but say any sign Rourke is in with Dallas. That man is the sexy man in any book. He’s gorgeous, rich, powerful but soft and sensitive and knows how to say and do the right thing when ever need.
What reading device do you use for reading ebooks on?
I use both a Kindle and a Kobo. I tried a Nook, but I’m Canadian and can’t download any books.
What is your take on the indie author phenomenon? What do you think the book industry will look like in five years’ time?
I love the Indie author phenomenon. It finally gives writers/authors the chance to publish their book, even if it doesn’t fit into the major publisher’s template. There are so many great stories out there, but the theme isn’t in vogue or the book’s too long – whatever. Now a writer can publish the book of their heart – and hopefully have it edited with a great cover.
I think in five years there will be a lot more audio books and maybe audio-visual books and many from o indie authors. I think there will still be print books but not in large quantities and e-books will continue to be very popular.
Do you ever skip the “I love you!” scene in your novels? Do you feel you’ve been cheated if they’re missing in other authors’ books?
No, I never skip them. I hope they’re well done so I can enjoy them.
And yes, I miss them in other author’s books. I hadn’t thought of it, but yes I feel cheated if they’re not there.
What’s your take on eBook piracy? What would you do about it if you were given carte blanche?
I don’t get too upset about it. I read a post quite a while ago and liked their philosophy. They felt it got their book out to a larger audience and considered the loss of any sales the cost of the publicity. Lois Winston posted on this recently. She says most of these “piracy” sites really don’t have your books. They’re either phishing expeditions to steal personal information; hackers who want to infiltrate your computer and leave a virus, trojan or worm, or simply third-party sites that link to Amazon to collect associate fees from people who buy your book.
If someone offered you immortality, but you could never write again…would you take the offer?
It’s an interesting offer, but no. First immortality scares me. Everyone I know and love would die. And secondly, how do you cope with all those voices in your head if you can’t write about them?
What do you want your epitaph to read, at the end of your life?
She was honest, fair, a good friend, wife and mother and a great author.
What are you currently reading?
How’s that going for you?
Love the Jaguar and so far it’s a good read.
What will you be reading next?
Fear Land by Rolynn Anderson
The Desiree Staccato
In honour of Desiree Holt who started this Saturday Night Live style tradition:
- Favourite colour? Red
- Favourite drink? Coffee
- Favourite writing outfit? Black tights and any large, comfy t-shirt or sweatshirt (depends on the weather)
- Favourite food(s)? Chocolate, cheese, and wine
- Favourite music? Jazz
- Favourite sport? Football
- Favourite body part? Eyes
- Favourite spot in the world? Paris
- Favourite movie? Death in Venice
- Favourite TV show? NCIS
- Favourite flower? Tiger Lily
- Favourite thing to do at knock-off time? I read, dabble in watercolor painting and sip local wine on my deck.
Tell us about your book.
Targeted is Kye’s story. It’s the third in the Hawkins Ranch series. He’s a member of the Blackfeet Nation and was adopted by the Hawkins after his parents died. When I researched the Blackfeet I found that their name changes once they cross the border. In Alberta, Canada they are the Blackfoot and in Montana it changes to the Blackfeet.
The book is Kye’s and Janna’s love story wrapped into murder, kidnapping, spiritual input from Blackfeet members, and growth on both Kye and Janna’s part as they try to work out the differences that keep them apart and save the spirit grove and Janna’s life.
Someone had shot her back tire. Janna gripped the wheel to keep the vehicle on the road. She debated whether to try and outrun the shooter, wherever he was, or find cover. The windshield shattered as a third bullet entered the passenger side.
So much for outrunning the shooter.
She scanned the area and spotted an outcropping of rocks a few feet ahead on her right. She aimed the vehicle in that direction.
Two more shots, and both the back tires went down.
Definitely find cover.
Janna ducked low behind the steering wheel until the vehicle reached the rocks. When the car stopped, she grabbed the keys from the ignition and her purse and dove out the door. Bullets bounced off the rocks behind her as she scrambled for cover. Whoever was doing the shooting was serous. Anyone of the shots could have hit her.
She reached the rocks, keeping low until she got to the middle where she curled up as tightly as possible, her back against a rock. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breathing came in gasps. This was getting to be a habit. First someone tried to kill her in Seattle, and now, out in this god-forsaken country.
What the hell is going on? Why are they shooting at me? Was it the same person who shot at me in Seattle? That doesn’t seem likely, but who even knew I was coming here? Maybe it’s someone just trying to rob a stranger.
Yeah right, be honest, Janna, does this road look like many strangers came this way? And if they did, would they have a lot to steal? You really think this person selected a spot in the rocks where he would have a good shot at my vehicle. Coincidence? Not damn likely.
At least she’d worn boots and jeans—even if they were designer jeans. Now they were filthy, and so was her red sweater and jean jacket.
Another shot hit the rock behind her. She rolled over onto her stomach, shaded her eyes, and squinted into the sun. He must be up on the cliffs straight ahead. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she might have glimpsed a light, maybe a reflection off his scope.
Terrific! Now what? My gun is in my purse. I could fire back, but that would be a waste of bullets at this distance.
She yanked out her cell and punched in 9-1-1.
A pounding pulsed through the ground and came closer. Janna could feel the vibrations. It felt like horses. She glanced around, without raising her head, to see what was coming.
Suddenly there was a hand in front of her face.
“Grab it and jump on.”
The deep, rumbling voice was not asking. It was an order.
Janna grabbed the strong hand. In one smooth motion, she swung up behind a man on his horse. Seconds later, she had her hands wrapped around his well-developed, muscular chest, as the big chestnut thundered across the ground, out of the bullets’ range.
The man wore a leather jacket over a sweater. Her hands slid under the jacket for better grip. Even through the sweater she could feel sinewy muscles. She laid her head against his back and his braid. She took a breath in, inhaling the rich scent of leather, trying to calm her racing heart rate.
She glanced behind her. The cliffs were fading into the distance. The muscles of his well-developed shoulders bunched and relaxed as he led the horse at a gallop across the field. She felt safe for some unfathomable reason.
He had a familiar woodsy scent that made her think of sex under pine trees, not that she’d ever made love there. In fact, her sex life was pretty negligible these days.
They’d been riding for several minutes when Janna leaned forward. “You can put me down any place. I can manage now.”
“Really? And just what are you going to do out here, miles from town, by yourself, with someone shooting at you?”
The voice was deep, but soft, and rolled over her like warmed brandy. It triggered something in the back of her memory. The earthy scent, the sinewy body, the braid, the voice… She knew this person who had ridden up out of nowhere to save her.
“I have my cell. I’ve already called 9-1-1,” she snapped.
“And did you get an answer?”
Janna yanked her cell phone up where she could see the screen again and re-tapped in 9-1-1. And then there was that famous phrase—No Service.
There was a deep chuckle. “That’s what I thought. There’s no service in this area. The mountains block it.”