Ok all of you, so I am a HUGE fangirl of Kat Martin and you know I am no shy shrinking violet. When I like someone and their work, I like to let them know, so I asked Ms. Martin if she would do an interview for the blog and she so graciously agreed to do it for us. Without further ado, Kat Martin!
Hi Kat!! Thanks so much for stopping by Book Obsessed Chicks for a visit. I have to say that I am all fan girl over you! I actually began to read you with the first book in the Raines of Wind Canyon series, Against the Wind, and began to read everything else that you have written. I love your voice in all you create. Thank you for being here!
For those who don’t know you and your work, can you please tell us a bit about yourself?
Well, I’ve written about 55 books. I’m a total workaholic! I live in both Montana and have a house at the beach in California for the winter--the best of both worlds. I’ve been married for 28 years to my husband, L.J. Martin, who is also a writer--which makes for a interesting family. I never had kids but he has four sons I helped raise, so I got my kid fix. They are grown and just great. And I love/hate to write.
What was your inspiration for the Raines of Wind Canyon series and the latest AGAINST THE EDGE?
I never really know where my idea come from. Some spring from others, like what happened with Jackson Raines in Against the Wind. I knew he had three brothers, knew their names and from there the stories began to grow in my head. Same with Ben. He appeared in Against the Sun and I got to know him, like him, knew I wanted to do a book about him. Fortunately, I have an active imaginatiion that seems to kick in when I need it.
I adore Ben Slocum in this book. He is one of my favorite of your characters… Who is your favorite character? Why?
I have sooo many favorites! I love Alex Justice in Against the Odds. I hated for the book to end. Loved the pairing between him and Sabrina. One of my all-tiime favorites is Chance McLain in The Secret, a Montana cowboy. The book was just re-issued. I think it and Hot Rain with Jake Dawson are two reader favorites.
When you first started out, was it hard getting published?
I was turned down by every publisher in New York except one. Fortunately, that publisher really liked the book, Magnificent Passage, and featured it as a lead title. Then the company shut down and I had to start all over again and it was just as hard the second time.
Who are your mentors? Your Heroes?
I read Dean Koontz “How to Write” was the book I used to learn to write. Some great authors, Wilbur Smith, Kathleen Woodiwiess, Nora Roberts. Reading them helped me then and still helps me now to try to be a better writer.
How is it having such a talented husband? Do you help each other out when it comes to your work?
I don’t help him--he’s too independent--but he helps me a lot. He’s great when I write myself into a corner. We plot together and he helps me figure out how to get out. He’s invaluable for knowing little trivia stuff like certain guns, things like that.
How many more books are planned for this series?
The end of August, Against the Mark, comes out. That’s Tyler Brodie’s story. You might remember him from Against the Night, but he was also in Agaiinst the Edge, where he was a big help to Ben. I’m in the process of signing a contract to write three more Against books for Kensington. Ty’s cousins, Dylan, Nick, and Rafe Brodie. They all live in alaska. They’re tough as nails and sexy as hell. I’m hoping readers will like them.
Do you use an inspiration board for your characters? Any famous men inspire any of your awesome men?
I think real life men inspire them. The cowboys, cops, firemen, guys like that. My story board is in my head!
What do you like to do when you aren’t writing?
Mostly I write, write, write, but I also love to travel. I love expensive hotels and great restaurants during the rare times I’m not working. I’ll be in France this year, meeting some of my readers in Paris. I’m really looking forward to that.
Who are you reading now? Who are your favorite authors?
I read a lot of Nora Roberts. I read Cindy Gerard, Joanna Bourne for historical, I read Amelia Grey for light reading Regency. A new person named M.L. Buchmann who is a guy writing military romantic suspense.
What’s next for Kat Martin?
Finishing the first Brodie book, Against the Wild (or that is the name so far), then goiing to Western Writers in Las Vegas in June and Thrillerfest in NYC in July. If you or any of your readers are there, love to meet you.
Where can we find you?
www.katmartin.com or firstname.lastname@example.org
Thank you so much Kat. I really appreciate you taking time out from your busy schedule for me!
ENJOY THE FIRST CHAPTER OF AGAINST THE EDGE BY KAT MARTIN
ENJOY THE FIRST CHAPTER OF AGAINST THE EDGE BY KAT MARTIN
His head was pounding. Too much Jack Daniels last night. When Ben Slocum pulled his big black SUV into the driveway in front of his garage, the only thing on his mind was getting a couple hours of sleep.
Reaching up to hit the garage door opener on his visor, he spotted a silver Buick with Hertz rental plates parked in front of the house. His gaze swung to the porch where a woman in a conservative yellow business suit stood rapping on his door.
Ben groaned. Last night two of his best friends, Alex Justice and Sabrina Eckhart, had gotten married. Alex, one of the other private investigators in his Atlas Security office, had fallen hard for the pretty little redhead. Ben had never seen a guy look happier about getting hitched.
Their early October wedding had turned into good news for Ben, who’d gotten lucky with a slinky little blonde from Dallas he had met at the reception. He’d spent the night in her bed at the Marriott, and neither of them had gotten much sleep.
Still dressed in the black tuxedo he’d been wearing last night, Ben glanced at the porch, shoved the
into park and turned off the engine, cracked open the door and slid out from
behind the wheel. His slacks were
wrinkled, his white pleated shirt haphazardly buttoned and opened halfway down
the front. His black bow-tie hung loose
around his collar.
Company this morning was the last thing he wanted.
He took a long look at the woman whose attention was now fixed on him as he crossed the front lawn. She was tall and slender, with dark brown hair clipped back at the nape of her neck, and a very pretty face. High cheek bones, a heart-shaped face, and full lips. Too bad they were currently thinned in a disapproving line.
He wondered what she was selling. Whatever it was, he wasn’t buying. He just wanted to hit the sheets.
Ben strode up on the porch. “’Fraid nobody’s home,” he said, hoping she would just go away. He wasn’t in the mood for another female, no matter how good she looked.
“I can see that,” she said. “I’m looking for Benjamin Slocum. I presume that’s you.”
He lifted a black eyebrow. “And you would be?”
“My name is Claire Chastain. I need to speak to you, Mr. Slocum, on a matter of extreme importance.”
“I’ll be in my office this afternoon. Why don’t you stop by...say ? We can talk about anything you like.”
“This can’t wait.”
Of course not. She was a woman. Everything was a matter of critical meltdown. “Is this business or personal?”
He let his gaze drift over her, taking in the soft curves. Slender and elegant, but there was plenty of female wrapped up in the pretty package.
“Do we know each other, Ms. Chastain?” As in have we spent the night together, maybe I drank too much and don’t recall?
But he hadn’t done that since he’d left the SEALs. Since then he had pretty much behaved himself. Well, more or less.
“No, we’ve never met. Please, Mr. Slocum. This is important and I would rather not discuss it out on your front porch.”
Irritation filtered through him. “Angel, this had better be good.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his house key, stuck it in the lock and opened the door. He went in and turned off the alarm, stepped back to allow Claire Chastain into his living room.
Ben closed the door. “Look, lady, I just got home from a wedding and I need a shower. There’s a coffee pot on the counter in the kitchen. Coffee’s in the cupboard overhead. If you want to have a sensible conversation, I suggest you make us a pot.”
The woman’s dark eyebrows shot up.
“And don’t be afraid to actually put some coffee in the pot.”
Her mouth dropped open. Ben chuckled to himself as he turned and headed for the bedroom.
Of all the nerve! Everything she had heard about Ben Slocum appeared to be exactly correct. The man was arrogant and overbearing, down right rude. In his rumpled tuxedo and smelling of sex and perfume, it didn’t take much imagination to know he had spent the night in a woman’s bed.
Clearly he’d been out carousing, doing God only knew what.
He was a navy SEAL, she reminded herself. That had to count for something. They had a reputation for being tough, brave, and honorable. Still, from the information she had, he had been out of the military for the last five years, a medical discharge at twenty-eight after a combat wound in some godawful jungle in the
She had no idea the sort of man Ben Slocum had become. One thing she knew. He looked even better than the photo she had seen of him when he was twenty years old. At least six-two, maybe a hundred ninety-five pounds of pure masculinity.
Beneath his black tuxedo jacket, a set of ridiculously wide shoulders tapered down to a narrow waist and a pair of long legs. Jet black hair cut short enough to hide a faint curl, and the stubble of a night’s growth of beard just made him more handsome. She tried not to think of the glimpse of chest hair she’d seen beneath his unbuttoned shirt.
And those eyes. So pale a blue they looked otherworldly. She had seen a pair like them, but on a nine year-old, the effect just wasn’t the same.
Thinking of the little boy and the help he so desperately needed set her feet in motion. Making the arrogant jerk a pot of coffee tweaked her ego, but that was hardly important. She took down the can of Folgers and began the steps necessary to get a pot brewing. Once the coffee was on its way, she took a moment to check out the house.
Neat was her first impression. The dishes clean and put away, no crumbs on the round oak table in the kitchen. No messy stacks of papers on the white ceramic tile counters. Decidedly male was her second thought. Brown leather sofa and chairs in the living room, oak end tables and pottery lamps. A big flat screen TV on the wall, and a stack of hunting and fishing magazines sitting on the antique oak table in front of the sofa.
She felt something soft brush against her and looked down to see a big gray tomcat winding between her legs. His golden eyes looked up at her as she bent down to scratch his ears.
“Well, aren’t you a big fellow.”
The cat began to purr. Ben Slocum was a cat person? She was more a dog lover herself--not that she actually had one--but she liked all animals. From the look of the cat’s glossy gray fur, he was definitely well cared for.
The sound of a door opening caught her attention. Claire looked up to see Ben Slocum striding down the hall, towel-drying his not quite wavy black hair. In jeans and a black T-shirt that stretched over the muscles on a very impressive chest, Ben was a formidable presence. Claire had to force herself not to take a step back as he walked into the living room.
“Smells good.” He paused long enough to lean down and run his hand over the big cat’s thick fur. “I see you’ve met Hercules.”
“You like cats?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
“Herc’s a great guy. I like animals in general. I tend to prefer them to people.” He continued on to the kitchen. “Coffee looks good. You want a cup?”
She definitely needed something to bolster her courage. “Yes, I think I do.”
Ben took down a pair of mugs and poured them full, handed one to her. He didn’t offer her cream or sugar. He took a drink, seemed to approve.
“What’s so important it couldn’t wait till this afternoon?”
“Why don’t we sit down?” She started for the oak table in the kitchen, but Ben caught her arm.
“Why don’t you just tell me what the hell is going on?”
Her patience was thinning. “Why don’t I just show you?” Ignoring his request, she marched into the kitchen, set her coffee mug down on the table and sat down in one of the oak captain’s chairs. Pulling the strap of her purse off her shoulder, she reached inside to retrieve Sam Thompson’s fifth grade class picture.
Slocum walked over, crossed his arms over his impressive chest and stood eyeing her from a few feet away.Claire looked up at him. “I’m here, Mr. Slocum, because of your son. His name is Sam, he’s nine years old, and he needs your help
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