I am so pleased to have my dear friend and fellow author K.M. Fawcett here today to celebrate the release of her debut novel, CAPTIVE, a science fiction romance that is available from the Forever romance line.
Yeah, K.M.! So excited and proud! So without further ado, here’s K.M.
Fun Facts about Captive (book 1 in the Survival Race series) and K.M. Fawcett
While watching the rescue of mistreated horses on an episode of Animal Cops, K.M. wondered how people would feel if they were penned up and abused. What if humans were the pets, and someone–aliens perhaps–bred us and gambled on us for entertainment like we do with horse racing, dog racing, and cockfights? The idea for Captive (the Survival Race) was born.
The Survival Race is a blood sport in which the last gladiator alive wins. Since the hero must be an athlete possessing speed, endurance, agility, and strength, K.M. decided to make him a decathlete.
While both are difficult, K.M. finds writing fight scenes easier than writing love scenes.
According to her husband, “Not only does K.M. write kick-butt heroines, as a third degree black belt in Isshinryu karate, she is a kick-butt heroine.”
K.M. combined American and Scottish folklore to create the alien race in Captive. They are a cross between Sasquatch, Am Fear Liath Mor (The Great Grey Man), and her imagination.
Excerpt from CAPTIVE
Addy glanced around the dimly lit room—if you could call it a room. Actually, it looked more like a ten-foot box. There were no doors. No windows. Nothing.
Except for a miniature fireplace and logs centered on one wall, the body pillow bed in one corner and a large terracotta flowerpot in the opposite corner, the room appeared empty.
She crept to a wall and drew her hand up, down and across it, searching for a hidden doorknob or lever.
“If you’re looking for me, I’m over here.”
She jumped and spun to face the stranger but was tripped up by her hangover and stumbled into the wall. Righting herself, she tried for a casual smile but knew it didn’t pass for anything more than a nervous tic.
When the room stopped spinning, she noticed he had propped himself up on one elbow. His dark, shoulder-length hair and sleepy eyes enhanced his wicked attractiveness. He made no attempt to move closer. Of course, he made no attempt to cover himself, either, and his sheet had slid further down.
She forced herself to look at his eyes. Eyes that shone eerily in the dark like a cat’s. Eyes that appeared emerald.
Odd choice for colored contacts.
“Come here.” He lifted the sheet with one hand and patted the pillow bedding with the other.
Her heart rate revved as she stared at the parts of him beneath the sheet. “I…uh…I…umm.”
“Skittish little thing, aren’t you?”
The only way to stop gawking was to squeeze her eyes shut. “Who are you?”
“You don’t know?” His voice oozed disappointment.
Apparently they had gone through this already. So why couldn’t she remember? What else couldn’t she remember? “Did I—? Did you—? Did we—?” There was no polite way to ask if (a) she’d given herself to him under duress or (b) he’d violated her while she was unconscious.
Okay, that was one way. Odd word choice but it sufficed. She nodded.
“Not yet.” There was no menace or presumption in his words. He spoke them casually, matter-of-factly, as if they’d already discussed sex and concluded they’d sleep together. When had she given him that idea?
Her head ached trying to remember.
“I’m sorry. You seem like a nice guy, but I can’t…you know…do this.”
“Oh. First time, huh?”
“Though judging your age, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a virgin.”
“Relax.” The sleep in his voice gave the word a husky sexiness. “I’ll make sure you enjoy it, too.” He got up and strode toward her, eyes hungry and body very ready to make good on his word.
If her pulse was a car, the turbo just kicked in. “Stop right there,” she said, and he did. The surprise was evident on his face. With a body like his, he probably wasn’t used to rejection.
“Woman, this won’t work unless we’re closer. Much closer.” He winked.
She turned back to the wall, frantically feeling for that doorknob. But it was too late. He was behind her, towering over her. Sweeping the hair off her shoulder. Brushing his lips down the side of her neck.
A tingling sensation slid down her spine. “Stop it. I’m warning you.”
“I understand your hesitation,” he said between kisses. “But it’s going to happen sooner or later.”
Like hell it is. She pivoted around and kneed him in the groin.
K.M. Fawcett was a born romantic. At six years old, she would beg her parents to take her to a restaurant with, “Soft music and candles” where she could drink Shirley Temples and twirl on the dance floor. As she grew, her desire to be whisked into a romantic adventure by a knight in shining armor also grew – to the point of annoying her friends and family. When she received A Knight In Shining Armor (a novel by Jude Deveraux) for her eighteenth birthday, she fell in love…with the romance genre. ♥ Now K.M. writes sci-fi/ paranormal romances, and enjoys stories filled with adventure and strong, kick butt heroes and heroines.
K.M. holds the rank Sandan (3rd degree black belt) in both Isshinryu Karate and in Ryukonkai (Okinawan weapons). She and her husband own Tenchi Isshinryu Karate Dojo in NJ where they teach karate, weapons, and self-defense.