Monday, October 23, 2017
I’d like to welcome Beverley Bateman, author of Targeted to my blog today.
RW: Tell us about yourself, your family, where you live, etc.
BB: I’m Canadian, a nurse and an administrator, who has loved plotting murders since I was a teen. I’ve recently left the wine and lake country of Kelowna, BC and moved to Medicine Hat, Alberta with my husband and two Shiba Inu dogs. And to avoid the icy cold winters I snowbird in Tucson.
RW: Why did you decide to write? When did you submit your first manuscript and what genre was it?
BB: I’ve always written; notes, plots, and even chats with those people in my head. I was diagnosed with breast cancer for the second time and figured out someone was sending me a message. I’d always written but not seriously, so I decided to write a novel. I heard romance was easy (which it’s not) so I wrote a romance, but kept adding in touches of murder.
RW: Who are your favorite authors? Who influenced your writing?
BB: There are so many great writers. A few of my favorite are JD Robb, Robyn Carr, BJ Daniels and Loreth Anne White—an eclectic group. As for who influenced my writing, there have been many people I know who have read, critiqued, and brain-stormed with me, who have all encouraged and influenced my writing.
RW: Who are your favorite characters among the books you’ve written?
BB: Lillian Abernathy—an older woman with early Alzheimers from A Cruise To Remember. Susan T. Brown, my heroine dog walker in Death Awaits. And Kye Hawkins, my hero in Targeted.
RW: What makes a good book? A great romance? Is humor important in fiction and why?
BB: A well-written hero and heroine, good internal and external conflict, an intriguing plot that keeps you turning the page, and a romance that becomes strong and overrides the external conflicts. Humor helps lighten tense situations and gives the reader a break until the next conflict.
RW: How much does reader feedback matter to you? Do your fans’ comments and letters influence you in any way? Do you have a favorite comment or question from a reader?
BB: Reader feedback is always important. It lets me know what I’m doing right—wrong—and maybe need to change or improve. They definitely influence me.
RW: Tell us about your latest book. What motivated the story? Where did the idea come from? What genre is it? Does it cross over to other genres? If so, what are they?
BB: Targeted is the third book in my Hawkins Ranch Series. The story originated in the hotel where I was staying. I looked down into a fancy lobby with marble floors and pictured a cowboy striding across in spurs. Then I figured out why he was there. He was a brother in the Hawkins family. The book and series developed from there. It’s a contemporary western and crosses over into the paranormal slightly with Indian burial grounds and ghosts.
RW: What do you do to relax and recharge your batteries?
BB: I meditate. Then I might listen to relaxing jazz and have a little wine.
RW: Bubble baths or steamy showers? Ocean or mountains? Puppies or kittens? Chocolate or caramel?
BB: Steamy showers, oceans, puppies, and chocolate.
RW: A biography has been written about you. What do you think the title would be in six words or less?
BB: People Who Lived in Her Head
RW: If money were not an object, where would you most like to live?
BB: Paris. I’ve visited there a few times and I love the architecture and history. A perfect place to plot murders. Just need to brush up on my French.
RW: Those are all the questions I have for you. Thank you for speaking to me.
BB: Thanks, Rochelle. That was fun.
After an eleven-year absence Janna Kincaid inherits a ranch and must return to a town she remembers with unhappiness, a man she briefly married and never wants to see again, and someone is trying to kill her.
Kye Hawkins has loved Janna since they met. They were married, but right after she left without an explanation. He hasn’t figured out why. Now she’s coming back. Can he rekindle the romance and prevent her from being killed.
Janna doesn’t want Kye’s help, yet he’s always there when she’s in trouble. Can they work together to stop a killer, and find romance again?
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.”
Beverley Bateman now lives in Medicine Hat, Alberta, exchanging the Okanagan vineyards and orchards for ranches and farms.
She lives there with her husband and Shiba Inu dogs. Winters she heads south. She writes her latest romantic suspense in both places. Hunted, Missing, and the newest —Targeted—are part of her Montana, Hawkins Ranch series. She also has her Holly Devine series; A Cruise to Remember, and A Murder to Forget. Don’t Go is her darker romantic suspense.
Contact Beverley At:
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Beverley-Bateman/e/B008M01F5E