Today I'd like to welcome author Trish McCallan over for her book tour with Forged in Fire. She is going to tell you a bit about what inspired her sexy new paranormal romantic suspense. Enjoy!
I credit Suzanne Brockmann with introducing me to the Navy SEALs.
This introduction came through her Tall, Dark and Dangerous category series published through Silhouette Intimate Moments. This was back in the late 1990’s, when the Silhouette Intimate Moments line was one of the heavy hitters in the publishing industry. The Tall, Dark and Dangerous series captured my imagination immediately. Although I’d heard about the Navy SEALs before, I didn’t know much about them. So I was intrigued by the details Brockmann provided about their training such as BUD/s and Hell Week.
But her tall, dark and dangerous heroes and the tight bond between these Navy warriors captivated me even more. Lethal, honorable, courageous—they were the ultimate drool worthy hero and the series quickly became my favorite.
I loved the series so much I joined Brockmann’s yahoo group and began discussing the books with other SEAL enthusiast. One of the yahoo members was Jenny Low, who later published under Gennita Low. Not only was Jenn reading the Brockmann books, she was writing a romantic suspense novel featuring a Navy SEAL herself. The book was called Kissing Games, and Jenn would post chapters to the yahoo group at large. This book was later published by Avon under the title Into Danger.
Several years went by, I followed Brockmann from the SIM line into single title romance and read the start of her Troubleshooter series, I read all of the books Jenn published with Avon and then at some point I got tired of SEALs and quit reading them. This was right around when the paranormal craze took off and I turned my attention to dark paranormal romance instead.
It’s not a surprise the dark paranormals appealed to me. They have a lot in common with military romances. The books are packed with action and the heroes are alpha, drool worthy and quite often they have some kind of warrior brotherhood. The dark paranormal heroes might not be protecting the citizens of the United States, but they’re usually protecting their race—so I’d still get those lethal, honorable and courageous heroes I loved so much.
But an unfortunate thing happened as I sank deeper and deeper into my own writing. I stopped reading. It’s difficult to find the time to read, when you’re writing in the off hours before and after work. Eventually, I realized the lack of reading was affecting my creativity, so I promised myself I’d read a book at least every two weeks.
The first book I chose was Dark Lover by JR Ward. Yeah, my two week window shrunk to something like 5 hours and then I hopped online and ordered every book in the series. What followed was a reading glut I hadn’t experienced in years. These were the epitome of the heroes I loved. They were sexy, alpha, lethal and courageous. They put their lives on the line every single day, not just for each other, but for a population that didn’t seem to appreciate their sacrifices. I couldn’t get enough of them.
Then a strange thing happened. I started dreaming. Every single night. About men who laid their lives on the line without hesitation, who protected those unable to protect themselves and who loves with fierce determination. I dreamed about a brotherhood of alpha warriors who would step in front od a missile to shield someone they loved; without blinking, without thinking, acting on pure instinct.
They were the quintessential heroes.
Only they weren't from the Black Dagger Brotherhood, there weren't even vampires. They were Navy SEALs. Officers of Seal Team 7.
I hadn't read a SEAL hero in years, but suddenly I had a whole platoon stuck in my head, and they weren't going away. Somehow, after more years I care to think about, I'd come full circle. Only this time I wasn't reading about those sexy Navy SEALs, this time I was writing about them.
And enjoying every minute of it.
About the Author:
Trish McCallan has been writing for as long as she can remember.
In grade school she wrote children’s stories, illustrating them with crayons and binding the sheets together with pencil-punched holes and red yarn. She used to sell these masterpieces at her lemonade stand for a nickel a book. Surprisingly, people actually bought them. Like, all of them. Every night she would have to write a new batch for her basket.
As she got older her interest changed to boys and horses. The focus of her literary masterpieces followed this shift. Her first full length novel was written in seventh grade by pencil in a notebook and featured a girl, a horse and a boy. At the end of the book the teenage heroine rode off into the sunset . . . with the horse.
These days she sticks to romantic suspense with hot alpha heroes and roller-coaster plots. Since she is a fan of all things bizarre, paranormal elements always seem to find a way into her fiction. Her current release, Forged in Fire, was the result of a Black Dagger Brotherhood reading binge, a cold, a bottle of NyQuil and a vivid dream.
You can find out more about Trish and her books on her Website or connect with her on FaceBook or Twitter!
Beth Brown doesn’t believe in premonitions until she dreams a sexy stranger is gunned down during the brutal hijacking of a commercial airliner. When events in her dream start coming true, she heads to the flight’s departure gate. To her shock, she recognizes the man she’d watched die the night before.
Lieutenant Commander Zane Winters comes from a bloodline of elite warriors with psychic abilities. When Zane and two of his platoon buddies arrive at Sea-Tac Airport, he has a vision of his teammates’ corpses. Then she arrives—a leggy blonde who sets off a different kind of alarm.
As Beth teams up with Zane, they discover the hijacking is the first step in a secret cartel’s deadly global agenda and that key personnel within the FBI are compromised. To survive the forces mobilizing against them, Beth will need to open herself to a psychic connection with the sexy SEAL who claims to be her soul mate.
"Forged In Fire is a smoking hot adventure with an irresistible alpha hero. Danger, action, suspense, and a steamy romance make a story that's impossible to put down!" ~Patti O'Shea, National Bestselling Author of Through a Crimson Veil
Excerpt: Chapter One
Lieutenant Commander Zane Winters shifted uneasily against the grungy white wall across from gate C18’s ticket counter. He felt naked without his Glock. Exposed. An itchy, irritating prickle of vulnerability tightened his skin and cramped his muscles. Which was fucking ridiculous. They were on leave, for Christ’s sake, booked on a civilian flight. Yeah, he and Cosky and Rawls had to check their weapons with their luggage, but so what? They weren’t going wheels-up, facing deployment to some godforsaken foreign jungle or burning swath of sand.
“Did they have to pick Hawaii? We have the same blue sky and warm weather in Coronado. And without the tourists.”
Zane barely heard Cosky’s disgusted mutter through the drone of excited voices surrounding them. With a grunt, he massaged the back of his neck and surveyed the growing crowd. More passengers were arriving by the minute. Shit, there were already too many people to keep an eye on. Too many jackets and pockets and purses. Too many places to conceal a weapon.
A stacked brunette across the gate area caught his gaze and offered a sultry smile. Zane turned away.
“Jesus.” Rawls’ lazy grin was a slash of white in his sun-bronzed face. “You two need to get off base more often. You’re as hinky as a pair of hounds during tick season. Those are civilians y’all are glaring at, not a room full of tangos.” Bright blue eyes zeroed in on the brunette across the room. “What you need is some of that. Sun, sand and sex. All the fixin’s for a memorable vacation.”
Cosky shot his teammate a derisive glance. “When did you become so fond of sand and sun? Sure as hell not last month, judging by your nonstop bitching.”
Rawls flipped him the finger. “It’s that third “s”, Cos. Makes all the difference. You should try it sometime, but without that blow-up Barbie you keep stashed beneath your bunk.”
Shrill laughter erupted across the room. Zane tracked the sound, skimming an abandoned stroller and clusters of luggage. When the brunette tried to catch his eye again, he swore beneath his breath. Shifting against the wall, he gave her his back.
“See? This is why I like hanging with you, skipper,” Rawls drawled, a grin twitching the edges of his mouth. “You attract the little darlin’s over, and when you turn that cold shoulder on ‘em, they start buzzin’ round Cosky and me.”
“Leave me out of it,” Cosky said. “Unlike you, I don’t need to surf Zane’s wake for a hookup.”
“A hookup?” Rawls shook his head and smirked. “Is that any way to talk about your hand?” Bracing his elbows against the wall behind them, he tilted his head and studied Zane’s face. “Seriously, skipper, you should take her up on that offer. It’s not like—” He broke off to scan Zane’s face more intently. Suddenly he frowned. “You’re shittin’ me. That’s some prime real estate over there, and you don’t have any interest in her? None at all? That just ain’t… natural.”
Hell, Rawls was right. She was prime time. A real looker. Long, thick mahogany hair. A tight, curvy ass. Stacked across the chest. Enough flare through the hips to hold onto. She was the kind of woman who’d give wet dreams to any straight male between puberty and death.
Which must mean he was dead. Because he was way past puberty, yet he didn’t feel even a twitch of interest. No chills. No thrills. No goose bumps.
She could be his great-grandmother, for all the attraction he felt.
Every year the numbness dug a little deeper, spread a little further. He’d been warned about this particular side effect of the family gift—or curse, depending on who was talking. But knowing about it, and living with it, were completely different animals.
“Let’s hope that woman of yours shows up ASAP. Much more of this drought and you won’t remember what to do with her.” With a flash of white teeth, Rawls reached over to punch Zane’s shoulder.
The moment Rawls’ fist made contact, every muscle in Zane’s body clenched. He froze, his breath locked in his throat. His vision blurred.
It was a subtle sound. A switch flipping inside his head. An image flashed through his mind. Quick. Brutal. Ugly.
Rawls sprawled across a bank of narrow seats. His blue t-shirt splotched with black. Blood dripping from limp fingers. A fixed stare glazing his blue eyes.
The vision vanished.
“Son of a bitch.” Sheer disgust vibrated in Cosky’s gritty voice. “We’re on stand-down. This is a civilian flight. Regardless of that all-too-familiar look on your face, we cannot be in any goddamn danger.”
But he didn’t dislodge the hand Zane clamped around his bicep.
This time Zane was expecting the vision. He tensed anyway, his body contracting into one giant charley horse.
He strained to capture as many details as possible as the new vision flashed through his mind.
Gray eyes locked and empty, already filming with the unmistakable haze of death. Black hair saturated with blood. Hands clenched. He was splayed across a narrow aisle, dark blue upholstered seats rising on either side of his head.
When the image vanished, he released Cosky’s arm and wrestled air back into his lungs.
“Tell me this is a joke,” Cosky demanded.
Zane shook his head and gripped the back of his neck with both hands.
“What did you see?” Rawls finally asked.
Zane drew a shallow breath. “You dead. Cosky dead.”
“From boredom?” Cosky asked dryly, one black-as-sin eyebrow arching. “We are going to a wedding.” A quick glance at Zane’s face, and a glint of steel darkened his gray eyes. “Where’s this going down?”
“On the bird.” Zane frowned. “Couldn’t tell whether she was in flight. Didn’t get a good enough look.”
Cosky turned to study the boisterous crowd. “When do you ever?”
Zane scrubbed his palms down his face and forced back a surge of frustration. The flashes never lasted long. No more than two or three seconds. Just enough to warn, without giving details. Just enough to raise guards, but not enough to mitigate the danger.
“Which bird? Over or back?” Cosky braced his hands on his hips and studied Zane’s face. “Either fits the three-day window for those flashes of yours.”
“Today.” Zane nodded toward Rawls’ blue-clad chest. “Same clothes.”
Cosky grunted. “I don’t suppose you saw who killed us?”
“When have these damn things ever been that accommodating?”
“Fuck.” With a disgusted shake of his head, Cosky dropped his chin and scowled at the worn carpet. “What about the wounds?”
“Lots of blood. Could be a gun. Or a knife.”
“A crash?” Rawls broke in quietly.
“Doubtful. Neither of you were burned. We’re looking at some kind of weapon.”
Cosky frowned. “It would be easier to smuggle a blade through security, but few people are good enough to take us on with a knife. Chances are it’s a gun.”
Zane pushed away from the wall. “Whatever’s going to happen is bad enough to take the three of us out.” The flashes never centered on him, but if Cosky and Rawls were in danger, he was as well. “We need to get hold of Mac.”
As the OIC of SEAL Team 7, Commander Jace Mackenzie had the pull to get the plane grounded and the passengers searched.
“Question.” Cosky’s attention zeroed in on Zane’s face. “What are we going to tell him? We don’t know what’s going to happen, who’s behind it, or what kind of weapons will be used. If Mac gets this bird grounded, only to have nothing show during the search, the backlash is gonna be a bitch.”
“What are you suggesting?” Zane cocked an eyebrow. “That we skip the wedding, keep our mouths shut and let events play out?”
“Don’t be an ass. I’m saying it would be handy to have some solid intel to pass on for a change. Why can’t you ever pick up more information if you touch us again?”
Zane shrugged. Just because he suffered through the visions didn’t mean he understood their properties. “We’ve got some time before boarding. Maybe one of the passengers will jump out at us.”
A wave of heat suddenly rolled through him. It started at his scalp and flowed down—a tide of molten fire that left chills in its wake. A tingling, numbing sensation followed, as though he’d been hit with a high-voltage electrical shock.
“What’s wrong?” Cosky’s question came from a distance. Muted and warped.
Zane turned, searching for… something. The gate area spun in slow motion. That strange, electrical tingling raised the hair on his arms and down the back of his neck.
He found her in the mouth of the waiting room. She was blond, slender. Perfect. Her cream-colored slacks and ivory blouse glowed beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, as though she stood squarely in a spotlight—lit up to catch his attention.
Her chin lifted, their eyes connected and that strange, pulsating current shot straight to his cock. Electrified him. His libido, numb for years, reared up and howled. He took one long step toward her.
Cosky grabbed his arm and hauled him back. “Goddamn it, Zane. What’s wrong?”
Zane shook his head, tried to clear the fog from his mind. The tug toward her was incredibly strong, like she was a magnet and his bones were metal. He took another step forward, his body vibrating at some strange frequency.
Cosky’s hand tightened with brutal force around his forearm, piercing the primal urge to claim her.
Zane froze and drew a shaky breath. His muscles were rigid. A vicious ache had seized his groin. His skin must have shrunk at least three sizes.
It had to be her.
After all these years of searching, of waiting… this had to be her.
To go from nada to nuclear in the blink of an eye… yeah. He drew a slow, burning breath, grappling to drag his body back under control. This had to be her.
From listening to his brothers’ stories about meeting their mates, he’d expected a strong reaction, but nothing like this whirlpool of hunger.
And he hadn’t even touched her yet.
“Who is she?” Cosky demanded. “Did you see her in one of your flashes?”
The question snapped the world back into focus. The memory of those damn visions flooded his brain.
He watched, frozen, while she headed toward one of the plastic benches strewn throughout the waiting room. She was apparently booked on his flight.
A marked flight.
His chest seized. His skin started to crawl. Christ, he couldn’t breathe.
Of all the bad timing.
He’d finally found her. His soul mate. At a time when he couldn’t afford the distraction. When the slightest mistake could get her killed.
Trish is giving away one digital copy of Forged in Fire! To enter, just leave a comment on this post and then fill out the rafflecopter below!