Jesse Nightwalker from Sweet Danger

Well, I survived doing my taxes, but just barely. Thank heavens for good friends who send their hot characters my way to cheer me up. Tonight we have Jesse Nightwalker, from Sweet Danger by Cheryl Pierson. Jesse is certainly easy on the eyes, even for an old bird like me.

Welcome to Nighthawk Talks. You just faced the notorious Hardin gang in a deli shootout. You're looking a bit worse for wear right now, Officer Nightwalker, but you are a tough customer.

I’m a survivor and I survived. But I have to admit, I had a few moments where I didn’t think I was going to—and I was worried as hell about Lindy and Nash. Tabor Hardin is one mean son of a bitch—not above harming women or children, and I knew I was dead the minute I realized he was the one taking over the deli. What are the odds? Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.    

Tell us about Lindy.
  
I’d had my eye on Lindy for several months—a year, to be exact. She lived two doors down from me and our mailboxes were right together—Jesse Nightwalker, Lindy Oliver. But that day, she was behind me in line at the deli and we started talking. It was kind of awkward, in a way, because I caught her checking out my…backside. But as it turned out, we both wanted the last sugar ring in the case, and of course, I took something else so she could have it. Abe Silverman directed us to sit together at one of the back booths, since the place was packed. It wasn’t long after that when Hardin and his gang came in. I pushed Lindy under the table, told her to go out the back way. But I made one mistake. I kissed her.


Why was that a mistake?

Because it changed everything for both of us. My wife had died four years earlier and I hadn’t felt much at all emotionally since then. But when I kissed Lindy, I knew that had just changed in the blink of an eye. When she looked up into my eyes, I could see she felt the same. She wasn’t about to leave me then—especially when she saw that I’d taken a bullet meant for her.

I can see how that would have spelled trouble.

I was in trouble the minute our lips touched. No…it was sooner than that. I was in trouble the minute I saw Lindy for the first time at the apartment complex. I guess that’s why it was so hard for me to break the ice with her. I knew then, if I did, there’d be no going back.

Going back to what? Your job? The dangerous life you lead?

Being an undercover cop was a job I always took seriously. I think I held on to it because Erica, my late wife, always threw it up to me. Wanted me to quit the force and do something else.

How did your wife die?

They said she committed suicide…I was on a stakeout. Turns out, that wasn’t what happened at all. It was a relief to find out what really happened, in a way—so I could let go of some of the guilt. But that was also why what happened in the deli just twisted me up in knots—I knew I couldn’t deal with falling in love with Lindy to have it all jerked away. Turns out, I didn’t have much choice in that.

We often don't when it comes to love.

Taxed

Even birdbrains need to do their taxes eventually. Come back next week when I've finished pulling my feathers out.

Bram Killoran from Terms of Temptation

Welcome back to Nighthawk Talks. Today's guest is Bram Killoran from Terms of Temptation by Lorrie Farrelly. While we wait for him to arrive, I'll mention that Ms Farrelly is also the author of Terms of Surrender and Terms of Engagement. Perhaps, for the sake of her characters, her next book should be Terms of Punctuality.


Howdy. Name’s Killoran. I reckon you’re expecting me, and …

(low whistle) Well, I’ll be. Ain’t this some first rate set-up you got. Never expected to see anything so newfangled as this around these parts. Oh, I know progress has got up a good head of steam and it just keeps roaring on, even out here in Wyoming. Railroad’s gonna come all the way to Lander soon enough, but even so …


Good evening Mr. Killoran. Welcome to Nighthawk Talks. If you could just have a seat here.

(clears throat) Sorry. Tongue ran away with me there. It’s just that, well, some things have been happening lately that are pretty hard to get a handle on. Now seeing all this … (blows out a breath) ... kinda confounds a man, don’t it? Knocked me for a loop, all right. But there’s always stranger things, I reckon.

Anyway, if you got the time later and it ain’t too much trouble, you reckon you could show me how some of these contraptions work? I’d be much obliged.


I think that could be arrange. Meanwhile, for the sake of our listeners, could you tell us a bit about yourself.

Well, like I started to say, my name’s Killoran. Deputy Game Warden Bram Killoran. Chief Warden sent me on over here to spread the word about the new Fish and Game laws. Illegal hunting and trapping has just about taken down our whole population of pronghorns, bighorns, and elk, along with nearly every kind of fur-bearing critter and game animal you can think of. Even trout are getting mighty scarce here about. Far as I’m concerned, every damn – uh, beg pardon – dang poacher in Wyoming oughta be locked up and the keys melted down for scrap. I hope those no-account varmints are listening to this, so’s they can consider their sorry selves informed. I got a job to do, seeing wildlife and livestock both thrive in this state, and I dang well aim to do it.

And while I’m at it, I might as well let one stubborn, hardheaded Miss Kinley Cantrell know that nobody – not even her – is gonna get in my way. I’ve been doing my job on my own for a long time, and I sure enough don’t need her assistance to keep on doing it. So if you’re listening, Miss Cantrell, hear me good. If I have to hogtie you to my pack horse and send you on home that way, why, I’ll do it.

Miss Cantrell has a prominent part to play in your adventures. I'm not sure that hogtying her will do much good or why you'd feel the need. It seems a bit extreme.

Truth is, though, I ain’t too sure how things got so out of hand with Kinley. I’ve always been a solitary kind of man, one who was never meant to be tethered. I’d purely hate being tied down. That’s why I’m suited to being a game warden, you see, since it’s a footloose sort of job, and I can work on my own time in a territory wide as the sky. Now, don’t get me wrong, I surely do like women, but marriage just ain’t for me. I reckon if I ever did take a wife, she’d find me to be just one darn disappointment after another. But a sporting girl or two, well, they know there ain’t no strings attached, you catch my meaning?

Yes, Mr. Killoran, I catch your meaning.

(Sighs) But I never before met a woman like Kinley Cantrell. I swear, that infuriating little bit of a thing is more trouble than a spitting bag of bobcats. One minute she makes me want to tear out my hair, and the next, danged if I don’t want to tear off every last bit of clothing she’s wearing. Thing is, I owe her my honor and my protection, but how am I ever gonna live the settled, confined life she’ll expect of me? I reckon I gotta figure it all out pretty darn soon, since my life – and more importantly, Kinley’s – depend on it.


Are you sure that's what she expects of you? I haven't met Miss Cantrell, but everything I hear leads me to believe that she's pretty independent herself. have you asked her what she wants? Are you sure you know what you want?

What the heck do you mean, what do I want? Want is what got us all tangled up in the first place. I want that stubborn, spirited Kinley Cantrell ’til I can’t think straight, ’til I’m half-crazy with it. But don’t you see? Now it ain’t just about what I want anymore, no matter what she says. It’s gotta be about making things right. You dance to the music, you got to pay the piper. That’s the only right thing to do, ain’t it?


Sounds like you are totally stuck on her.

Sweet Holy Hannah, a man can only stand so much. Exasperating as she is, Kinley just about makes my heart pound out of my chest. I swear, I get near her and I can hear the blood rush in my veins. I got no idea why she moves me so, why she makes my heart squeeze and every sane thought I got fly right out of my head. She just about turns me inside out.

So unless I figure out how to keep from breaking her heart, the most danger to Kinley ain’t gonna be from those lowdown, good-for-nothing, snake-in-the-grass poachers. It’s gonna be from me.


Before you start tearing your hair out again, why don't I give you that tour of the studio.

Find out more about Bram Killoran and Kinsey Cantrell in Terms of Temptation.. To learn more about the author, Lorrie Farrelly, check out her author pages on Amazon or Goodreads.

Jake Carmedy from Deadly Legacy

Let's give a warm welcome back to Jacob Carmedy of Deadly Legacy.

It's just Jake. I can produce three pieces of ID to prove that if you like.

Sorry, Mr Carmedy. Chief Thorsen referred to you as Jacob and... what now?

What?

You're scowling at me. I said sorry.

Only the chief gets away with calling me Jacob -- partly because I can't stop him and partly because he's earned the right to call me whatever he damned pleases. I also feel weird when someone calls me Mr. Carmedy -- but that's my bad not yours. I've been out of the regular forces for ten years now and it still feels weird being called mister. Call me Jake or Carmedy, okay.

Once a soldier always a soldier?

I still have reserve status, but yeah, I guess so. Maybe not for everyone...

Do you think it's a bit cliche having a former military man as a detective? Former Army Ranger becomes FBI agent in Bones. Former Army Ranger becomes bounty hunter in the Stephanie Plum novels. All those former SEALs and Marines in NCIS.

Do I care if you think it's cliche? I don't think so. I was a MP and security specialist. What was I going to do? Become a baker? If it makes you happier, I'm not a Ranger, Marine or SEAL. I am Canadian. Anyway, part of the reason I find it strange to be called Mr. Carmedy is because Joe only used "mister" and "ms" with civilians. You might as well say, "once a cop, always a cop."

Fair enough. You still keep your uniform in good order.

Like I said, I still have reserve status. I also keep my hair short, my face clean-shaven and my nails trimmed and filed. But so does every male professional worth his salt. What is this obsession with my military background.

Sure, I like khaki and olive. The colours work for me and I don't have to worry about putting the wrong shirt with the wrong trousers. Everything I own matches. Almost everything I own is equally practical in the office or in the field. You can't say that about the Zoot suits and Berber-style clothes that are in fashion right now.

You seem a little sensitive about this topic.

Certain people seem to have made it their holy mission to get me wearing more colour.

Kate Garrett?

<laugh> No. That maybe the one thing she doesn't want to change. Hell, she even likes me in uniform. And I have to say, she looks fine in her dress blues. Nothing like a woman in uniform, I always say.

Deadly Legacy is free March 4-7, 2013. Pick it up and learn more about Carmedy and Garrett.

Marly Landers from Under A Texas Star

Tonight we welcome back Marly Landers from Under A Texas Star.

Throughout history women have masqueraded as men as a means of working in a field closed to women... like the military. Many times, they are only discovered when injured or killed. Your story, as told, doesn't go into many details of how you pulled it off. Care to share?

I'd traveled as a boy before. At the end of the war, renegade rebs beat and violated my mama, I was next. I know it. The Sarge showed up in time to save me, but just barely. Mama let me wear britches when I was doing chores so I changed into them and packed up a few valuables I could carry. I only had a couple of dresses and one of them was near covered in blood from Mama. I didn't mind leaving them behind with my bonnets and ribbons.

Okay, but you were much younger without as much... shape. And you had an accomplice. How did you pull it off alone?

Aunt Adele took me by buggy to the city to catch the train east. She saw me settled beside a widow visiting her sister in Rhode Island. As soon as Aunt Adele left, I changed trains and headed south. Of course they checked my ticket and "my mistake" was discovered. When I was let off, I asked where the telegraph station was, so I could send a wire to my family. I left my trunk at the station. I took my handbag and cut through a few backyards, and, I'm ashamed to admit, stole some clothes off someone's line.

It couldn't have been that easy.

I planned ahead. I had an old chemise in my bag from when I was younger. I'm not a very shapely woman and the tight vest squashed down what little shape I had. I had an odd sock to give me a bit of shape where I needed it. Mostly though, I'd been dealing with school boys for years so I knew how to act like one. The hardest part was finding a place to make the transformation. I would love to know how the owner of the tree fort looked when he found a lady's dress and smalls there. I spent the night in the fort and left before dawn: Marly Landers the boy.

What was the hardest part of the masquerade?

Keeping clean. Even a bowl bath is a challenge when you got to keep yourself covered. I spent nights in haylofts and once sharing a stall with sick colt. Mind, that job got me a fifty cents and two good meals. It was a pure joy when I finally got to have a hot bath in a private room.

That was at the Oasis in Fortuna.

Yes, sir. Er... ma'am?

Just Nighthawk.

Read about Marly Landers in Under A Texas Star. Available FREE on Kindle February 24-27, 2013.

To Have to Hold - Tempest and Buck

"A widow with two children, Tempest Whitney has had to mortgage everything to repay the money her husband had stolen. But even as she struggles to hold onto her Utah homestead, a scheming rancher buys up her debts, demanding she either get off his land or marry him. Then a dark-haired stranger shows up, claiming to be her dead husband . . ."

We have that widow and dark-eyed stranger with us today.

Tempest, truth now, what was your first impression of Buck Maddox?

T: Oh my, well, much as I regret having to admit it, my heart leaped right into my throat at the sight of Buck standing outside my door. It was all I could do to hang onto my dignity and not jump on him. And to work up some anger at the confounded man when I thought he'd killed Skeet.

B: Whoo-hoo. Honey, I wish I'd have known that at the time. The only thing that would have kept your virtue safe would have been those two darlin' babes of yours. You were a mess, your hair all scraggly and, Lord, what a temper! But I'd never seen a woman more tempting.

The woman was tempting, but what about the ranch and her menagerie? That must have been daunting.

B: I admit I was a bit taken aback by what you call her ranch. Neither prosperous nor tidy are words I would have used in describing it. By menagerie, I reckon you mean her critters, not sweet little Ethan or Angel. To tell the truth, I would have had to applaud her ingenuity for earning her living. Who would have thought to raise and sell cats, of all things? Course, there were the mules, too.


<mutters> Cats. Why did it have to be cats?

It's rough land, what makes you love it so much, Tempest?

T: Oh, I didn't love it at first, not by a long shot, but those magnificent sandstone walls looking like they'd been sculpted by God, and with their Indian drawings on them and all, well, they grow you, until you wonder how you ever lived anywhere else. I know Buck feels the same way about it as I do now.



I can see that. Though I suspect he'd grow to love anything that you loved and probably hate what you hate. Speaking of which, Jonas Creedy figures prominently in your lives. Tell me about him.

T: That man! I still shudder at the very mention of his name, the low down, skunk-faced---

B: Now, Tempest, honey, shouldn't say unkind things about the dead, now should you?

T: Humph. You weren't the one being leered at by him, Buck. I just thank the Lord you came along and rescued me, you darling devil, you.

B: Damn. Are we about finished here? I need to get this woman home, fast.

Don't let the door slam <slam> ...on the way out.

If you want to learn more about this charming couple, pick up To Have and to Hold by Charlene Raddon.

Until next time... 

Casting Call!

Nighthawk here, out from the shadows of post holiday madness. What I'd really like to do is fly south for the winter. Since that isn't an option this year, I'll just need to find some hot bodies to warm up the studio.

If you have a character who'd like to be interviewed, drop me a line. Leave a comment. Send me a carrier pigeon.

Meanwhile, stay tuned and keep warm out there.