I’d like to welcome Beverley Bateman, author of Targeted to my blog today.
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.
TARGETED
The
Plot
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?
An
Excerpt:
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.
Damn—no reception.
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
Bio
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.
Book Links:
Contact Beverley At:
Thank you Rochelle for hosting me. Love your website.
ReplyDeleteBeverley
Just saying hi to two of my fav ladies. But seriously, Beverley, I know you inadvertently left out my name as one of your fav authors. Hugs to both of you. vb
ReplyDeleteOh, Vicky, you are sooo right. I apologize. I love your Temporarily books. Beverley
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