Showing posts with label Her Sexy Sentinel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Her Sexy Sentinel. Show all posts

Saturday, October 10, 2015

Psychic Week - An Excerpt from Her Sexy Sentinel

Posted by: Jenn Burke
For Psychics Week, I thought I'd offer up a snippet from my first book, Her Sexy Sentinel. It's a paranormal romance that deals with psychics, magic, murder and demons...and a hell portal under Canada's Parliament Hill, yay!

---

The first ring of his phone roused Derrick Llewellyn enough for him to blink at the clock radio on his nightstand. The wavering three, five, and two stared back at him and he swore. Better not be Risa. He’d crawled into bed a mere two hours before after leaving his sister’s place.

Was it too much to ask for more than a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep?

He rubbed a rough hand over his face and grabbed his cell phone. “Llewellyn.”

Dead air greeted him, along with another ring. He groaned and tossed the cell back on the nightstand.

Levering himself up on one elbow, he reached for the chirping cordless handset and flipped on the bedside lamp. Caller ID displayed “George St. Diner” and he frowned. It had to be a wrong number. Some drunk who misdialed while calling up his buddy. Anyone who actually knew him would have called his cell, seeing as he rarely parted from it. He stared at the phone, his thumb hovering over the talk button.

Shit.

He jabbed it and barked, “Llewellyn.”

“D-Derrick?”

Though quiet, there was no mistaking the voice. In an instant, he was twenty-three again, watching a petite blonde laugh across from him in a crowded pub, her graphite eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed with amusement. Whatever he’d said to evoke such merriment had been lost to time, but it didn’t matter.

“Callie?” He tried to sound casual, but shock still colored his voice. He was dreaming, right? Because there was no way in hell Callie Noble would randomly call him at 4:00 a.m. For anything.

“You remember?”

How could he forget? As much as he’d wanted to. He pushed himself into a sitting position. “Yeah.”

“So.” She paused. “Um, how’ve you been?”

“You didn’t seriously call me up in the middle of the night to chat, did you? What are you doing in town?”

A chuckle reverberated across the line, a sad, watery sound. “No, I didn’t.” She sighed. “I—I’m in trouble.”

His shoulders rounded, drooping under yet another weight. He didn’t need this, an extra complication in an already-complicated life. He had enough burdens, enough responsibilities, without the added variable of a woman he hadn’t seen for seven years. The “sorry, can’t help” balanced on the tip of his tongue, held back by one simple fact.

This was Callie. Dammit, she should not have the same effect on him now as she had years before. And yet he had the inexplicable urge to pull her into his arms, to protect her, just like always.

That should’ve been his first clue, way back then, that he was meant to be a Knight. Well, that and the fact that his sister insisted he had the determination for it. Though the word she used was “pigheaded.”

Gods, he was tired.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Trouble how?”

“I don’t know.” She hiccuped a sob. “I think I’m sick—or something.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No, I can’t—”

“Get in a cab and head to the hospital—”

“Derrick, please—just be quiet.” He thought he heard a moan. “I can’t think. God, I can’t think… I need help.”

His hand moved from his face to his hair, his fingers getting tangled in the messy dark strands.All of his protective instincts, already primed by the first stutter that had reached across the phone lines, reared up at the desperation in her voice and pushed aside his reluctance. “I’ll come get you.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah. Dammit. “You’re at the George Street Diner?”

“I guess so. I-I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Give me five minutes.” He got out of bed and pulled on the jeans he’d discarded only a couple of hours before.

“Thank you.”

He paused—something in her voice didn’t sound quite right, her words slurred. “Are you all right?”

“I’m crashing,” she whispered.

Shit. “Hang on.” No response. He heard a thump and a crash on the line. “Callie!”

“Hello?” Another voice came through the phone.

“The girl I was speaking to, is she all right?”

“Passed out, poor thing. I guess she had a rough night. Are you her boyfriend?”

“Something like that. I’m coming to get her. Five minutes.”

“I’ll get her some more coffee.”

“You do that,” he said, and disconnected.

What the hell? She hadn’t sounded drunk, until she’d slurred her words there at the end. She’d said she was sick. But why call him, of all people? For that matter, why was she here at all? He shoved those last two questions aside— he’d deal with them later. Right now, he’d help her, like she’d asked.

He made good time. At four in the morning, little traffic impeded him, and the stoplights all seemed to switch to green when they saw his BMW approaching. Ottawa didn’t quite roll up the sidewalks at midnight like some other small cities, but this late—or this early—few souls were about. The bars in the ByWard Market had all closed at two, and the drunken stragglers had long ago disappeared from the area. Even the denizens of the street were hidden away somewhere, sleeping off their poison of choice.

Derrick pulled to a stop in front of the George Street Diner, ignoring the no parking sign. Bursting through the glass door, his gaze swept the interior, noting the gray-haired waitress and a slouched figure who didn’t pay any attention to his entrance. And in a booth across from the door, a mop of blond curls resting on a tabletop.

“Callie?” He was at her side in a few quick steps, his lungs hardly working. She seemed so small, so fragile, so not the Callie that lived in his memories. He nudged her shoulder and she rewarded him with a heavy sigh.

She turned in his direction and blinked those unforgettable stormy gray eyes at him. “Derrick?”

“I’m here.” He crouched before her, his brow furrowing as he noted the dark mottling of her skin near her ear, along her jaw. A bruise? What the hell? Had someone laid a hand on her? The need to protect her thundered through him again—and this time, he wanted to find the bastard who’d hurt her and throw a few punches of his own.

“Your hair’s shorter.”

Trust a woman to notice he’d cut his hair, despite being sick. Fishing a twenty out of his wallet, he dropped it on the table. “Let’s go.” He reached down and scooped her into his arms. “I’ll get you to the hospital.”

“No hospital. I’m just tired. Need a place to sleep.”

“Yes, hospital. We need to find out why you’re sick.”

“No,” she moaned.

“The doctors will help. I’ll stay with you—”

“I can’t go to the hospital!”

A force expanded from the small woman in his arms like a shock wave from a high explosive. It blew past his already- messy hair, and the coffee mug on the table where Callie had been sitting shattered with a pop.

Pop. Pop. He watched, stunned, as each mug set out on the tables in the diner disintegrated.

“Oh my God,” the waitress whispered behind him.

Callie moaned again, turning toward his shoulder. Her eyelids fluttered and her breathing grew irregular. The shock rumbling through him deepened as her body started jerking. He held on, swearing. Fuck. This just got more and more complex. And unbelievable.

“Hey.” The blue glow of his eyes reflected from the waitress’s gaze. Her facial features slackened under the onslaught of his power as his mind sought to influence hers. “Everything’s fine, Marj. Do I smell something burning?”

“Oh my goodness, I must have left an empty pot on the burner.” Marj scurried behind the counter to retrieve the nonexistent pot. Good girl. Derrick glanced at the other figure in the diner, who hadn’t stirred—a quick read of his emotions told him that he wasn’t even aware of his surroundings—then tamped down the power, packing it back into its usual compartment. He held Callie to his chest, relieved that the convulsions seemed to have stopped. He could feel each rise and fall of her chest; every expansion seemed shallower, less strong. He knew where he had to take her, and it definitely wasn’t the hospital. Risa would be pissed about being woken up, but tough shit.

Duty didn’t always wait for business hours.

---

The most dangerous thing they could do is fall in love…

Callie Noble fled to Ottawa to escape danger. But she is far from safe. Overwhelmed by a strange new power she can’t control, Callie is terrified and painfully incapacitated. Her only hope is to seek the help of the one man who broke her heart…

Derrick Llewellyn is one of the Sentinels charged with the protection of the city’s mysterious secret. Seeing Callie again is a shock enough, but the electricity between them is stronger than ever. Still, loving another marked individual is forbidden, and Callie needs his help—not romantic complications.

But there are forces at work in the city, and Callie finds herself inexorably drawn into a world filled with danger and untold magics. A world where loving Derrick isn’t just forbidden…it’s the surest way to drive them both mad.



Thursday, July 2, 2015

Happy Day After Canada Day!

Posted by: Jenn Burke
Yesterday was party day! We celebrated the 148th birthday of our nation. Here in Canada’s Capital, Parliament Hill is normally swarmed with crowds of 100,000 or more, and museums have free admission. It’s pretty cool! In one of the early drafts of Her Sexy Sentinel, I actually had a Canada-Day-on-Parliament-Hill scene, but that subplot ended up getting cut.

In belated celebration, I wanted to share with you some of my favourite TV shows and movies from Canada.
This movie is filled with Canadian in-jokes. You’ve got the tension between English Ontario and French Quebec, you’ve got a murder mystery entirely centred around Canadian hockey teams moving to the U.S., and an entire scene devoted to explaining how to swear in Québécois French. It’s pretty awesome.

I was a HUGE fan of this TV series when it was on. First of all, it features a do-good Mountie stationed in Chicago, partnering with an American detective to solve crime. Secondly, the guy’s deaf husky is named Diefenbaker, after one of our prime ministers. And lastly, Paul Gross is hot, man.

In this series from the early 90s, Nick Knight is a vampire cop struggling to find redemption. It’s set in Toronto and was one of my first introductions to the whole “vampires as good guys” trope.

This show is based on one of my favourite book series, Women of the Otherworld by Kelley Armstrong. It’s mostly set in Toronto and northern New York and centres around the one and only female werewolf. I haven’t seen all of the episodes yet, but I can tell you that the books…wow, the books are awesome.

Speaking of books, if you’re looking for some fun Canadian spec fic, check out:

Moonheart or the Jack of Kinrowan series by Charles de Lint. These books are set in Ottawa and the surrounding area and effortlessly blend Old World and First Nations myths and legends with the real world.

Tanya Huff’s Vicki Nelson series is set in and around Toronto. Vicki is a former cop with degenerating eyesight who partners with the vampiric bastard son of Henry VIII to solve paranormal crimes.

Light by ‘Nathan Burgoine is a recent favourite of mine. Set in Ottawa during Pride Week, the story focuses on a reluctant superhero struggling to find love and prevent hatred and bigotry from spewing all over the celebrations.


And, of course, there’s mine…

The most dangerous thing they could do is fall in love...

Callie Noble fled to Ottawa to escape danger. But she is far from safe. Overwhelmed by a strange new power she can't control, Callie is terrified and painfully incapacitated. Her only hope is to seek the help of the one man who broke her heart...

Derrick Llewellyn is one of the Sentinels charged with the protection of the city's mysterious secret. Seeing Callie again is a shock enough, but the electricity between them is stronger than ever. Still, loving another marked individual is forbidden, and Callie needs his help—not romantic complications.

But there are forces at work in the city, and Callie finds herself inexorably drawn into a world filled with danger and untold magics. A world where loving Derrick isn't just forbidden...it's the surest way to drive them both mad.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Magicking in the Lines

Posted by: Jenn Burke
This is my first post on Here Be Magic. Thanks for having me! Earlier this year, Marie Harte wrote about 2015 being the Year of the Sheep. For me, it’s the year of the book. Tomorrow, my debut novel will be released by Entangled Publishing (a paranormal romance called HER SEXY SENTINEL—more on that in a little bit) and three books of my five-book male/male science-fiction romance series (co-written with Kelly Jensen) will be published by Carina Press before the end of 2015, starting with CHAOS STATION in March. I’m tired just thinking about it! (But also beyond thrilled.)

One of the things I like best about writing speculative fiction is the world-building. I can let my imagination run wild, coming up with fantastical creatures, landscapes, history, culture, magic. But in order to make sure readers can immerse themselves in the story, everything in a world needs a reason for existing and rules that govern it.

Rules are so important in speculative fiction. They keep the magic (or science) in a world consistent and, if they’re done well, present limits. Whether those limits are hard or soft is up to the writer, but they’re needed to prevent magic from becoming the easy answer to every conflict. If a character can get rid of a problem with a simple wave of a wand—without repercussion or limits—then you’ve got a problem. The story will lose all tension because there’s no longer any question if the characters will be able to get out of the predicaments they find themselves in.

When I created the magic system for HER SEXY SENTINEL, I made sure to keep this in mind. In that world (which is mostly like the real world except for, you know, demons and portals and magic), there are three tiers of magic-users. The first are psychics, who unconsciously tap into the energy they generate to enhance their senses. The second tier is magic-users, psychics who manage to access energy beyond what they generate themselves, either in a moment of crisis or through intensive study. On the third tier are the marked magic-users, the people who have the potential to be much more powerful than anyone else. From that tier come the Sentinels, two special magic-users who protect Ottawa. One of the Sentinels, the Magus, is the living nexus of all the magic in the city. Because portals. And demons.

At each level, there are limits. It takes a lot of adrenaline or effort for a psychic to break through to the next tier and become a magic-user, so it doesn’t happen often. A magic-user can’t wield too much magic at a time, or they risk burning themselves out. Even at the top of the magical foodchain, the Magus risks losing her mind if she releases too much magic from the nexus.

Because I had these rules in place, the conflict through the book isn’t easily addressed. Magic doesn’t become a deus ex machina but a tool with limits and repercussions for its use. Which leads to…

Well, you’ll just have to read it.

HER SEXY SENTINEL is available January 26!

***

The most dangerous thing they could do is fall in love…

Callie Noble fled to Ottawa to escape danger. But she is far from safe. Overwhelmed by a strange new power she can’t control, Callie is terrified and painfully incapacitated. Her only hope is to seek the help of the one man who broke her heart…

Derrick Llewellyn is one of the Sentinels charged with the protection of the city’s mysterious secret. Seeing Callie again is a shock enough, but the electricity between them is stronger than ever. Still, loving another marked individual is forbidden, and Callie needs his help—not romantic complications.

But there are forces at work in the city, and Callie finds herself inexorably drawn into a world filled with danger and untold magics. A world where loving Derrick isn’t just forbidden…it’s the surest way to drive them both mad.


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