Here to celebrate her brand SPANKING new release, is Brenda Huber! She has answered some questions for us and is ready to give us the scoop on her latest book in The Chronicles of the Fallen. Keep reading for all the details!
Why did you start writing romance?
I became hooked on romance the moment I
picked up my first Johanna Lindsey at age 14.
The book was CAPTIVE BRIDE. I’ve
always loved writing. I don’t think
there was any conscious plan. It just seemed
a natural transition.
What book of yours should people start with if they’ve never read you before?
What book of yours should people start with if they’ve never read you before?
MINE
seems to be very popular with my readers.
However, my own personal favorite would be SHADOWS. Then again, my writing style has evolved somewhat,
and I love what I’ve done with Chronicles of the Fallen too. That’s like asking a parent to pick their
favorite child. Lol Can’t be done.
Are you a plotter or pantser? How did you decide?
I’ve tried to make a conscious
choice to be one or the other, but for some reason it just never works out like
I plan. Typically, I start off 100%
pantser. I have no idea who my
characters are, where they’ve come from, or what they plan to do when I start any
book. And for the first ten chapters or
so, they just grow themselves and run the show on their own. Then around chapter twelve, I have to sit
down with them and say, “Okay now, listen up.
I understand you’re having a good time here, but we’ve got to finish
this thing.” At that point, I manage to plot
the rest of the book out, chapter by chapter.
It’s that or they’d just run wild and get completely away from me.
Who are your favorite authors to read when you’re not writing your own books?
Oh
my! The list is long and varied. I’d have to say, that while I have authors I
tend to gravitate toward, I go more for genre.
I adore Paranormal Romance, obviously, as well as Romantic Suspense and
Historical Romance. Kresley Cole,
Sherrilyn Kenyon, Felicity Heaton, Rebecca Zanetti, Jeaniene Frost, Mary Burton, Kay Hooper, Lisa
Jackson…the list goes on and on. And
then there are always the tried and true.
Johanna Lindsey, Nora Roberts, Julie Garwood… Again, too many to count.
Can your books be read as stand-alones? Or should they be read in order?
While
the ultimate goals might be the same in the series, I try to write in a way
that a reader can pick up any given book and understand right away what’s going
on (without information overload), immediately grasp what the stakes are, and
fall in love with ALL the characters, regardless of whether the reader started
with book four, or book one.
What are you working on next?
Currently,
I’m working on a contemporary romance with a twist of suspense, as yet
untitled. But after this, I’ll be going
back to the beginning so to speak. I’ve
decided to backtrack at bit and work on finishing up my Task Force for Rogue
Apprehension (TFRA) books for The Wild Rose Press which are basically spinoffs
from MINE and CRAVINGS as well as the
final books in my TEXAS series. I’m so
excited to get to work with these characters again.
Coffee or Tea?
Coffee in the winter, Iced Tea in the summer
Night Owl or Morning Person? Night Owl
Summer or Winter? Definitely Summer
Camping or Hotel? Camping
Bearded man or Clean shaven? Clean shaven or closely trimmed. Hate the bushy look.
Paper or Ebook?
Whatever I can get my hands on.
Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate
Dog or Cat?
Dog
Night
Out or Evening In? Evening In almost
every time.
Explicit Romance or Fade-To-Black? ;)
Brenda Huber has always been
an avid reader, and with that love of books came a passion to write them. She is a determined gardener, despite her
black thumb, and loves to study history.
Brenda lives in Iowa with her husband, her two children, and her very
spoiled
Thanks so much for visiting us, Brenda! And happy release day! Make sure you all stalk Brenda around the internet. Find her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A COMMENT TO BE ENTERED TO WIN THE GIVEAWAY! WINNER WILL BE ANNOUNCED TOMORROW.
Explicit Romance or Fade-To-Black? ;)
***GIVEAWAY ALERT***WHOOP WHOOP***GIVEAWAY ALERT***
Brenda has a SIGNED paperback available for one lucky commenter.
OPEN INTERNATIONALLY
OPEN INTERNATIONALLY
So read below to check out the book and let her know what you think of her excerpt!
Winner will be announced on Brenda's FB page and other social media outlets on June 29th, so get those comments in now! And don't forget to like and follow all the links below.
dog Sam. You can learn more
by visiting her on her website (brendahuber.webs.com), or
following her on Facebook (http://on.fb.me/1F4VsNc).
Check out her latest, "Demon of Vengeance", OUT NOW! Order from
Blurb:
Chronicles of the Fallen, Book 4
A legendary sword isn't the only thing this merciless demon
desires...
Possessed of
immeasurable patience and an unrelenting drive for justice, Sebastian, the
Demon of Vengeance, has finally met his match. His mission is to keep the new
Guardian safe until the Sword of Kathnesh is retrieved, but the aggravating
woman insists on throwing herself into harm’s way at every opportunity.
Finding the sacred relic
is Phoebe Mackenzie’s task, and protecting it is her family’s legacy. But when
Sebastian resorts to magic to save her life, he unwittingly exposes a secret
sealed deep within her—and paints a target on her back no demon can resist. As
Phoebe fights to hold on to her identity, Sebastian’s oldest nemesis vows to
use any and all means to force Sebastian into a fight to the death—including
targeting his mate. Sebastian will do whatever it takes to preserve the
barriers between Earth and Hell. But in unleashing the raging storm inside him,
he risks losing the woman he loves.
Excerpt:
“Well, they probably have Dad’s last journal now.” Phoebe mustered the strength to roll
over on her side to face him. She tugged the blankets up, tucking them firmly in place. “It
shouldn’t be a major issue, not unless they’re familiar with the region. My father encrypted
all his journals. It was a code he only ever taught to me. It started out as a game when I
was young, but then, after the fire, it became serious. Eventually it was the only way we
communicated about anything, at least in writing. They won’t be able to read the journal
themselves, I’m sure of that much at least.”
“Then we still have a slight advantage.”
“Not with me in this bed,” Phoebe pointed out, filled with determination. Once more,
ignoring the trembling of her limbs and the shaking in her hands, she made to sit up.
But Sebastian was on his feet before she could blink. His large hand pressed against her
good shoulder, careful but insistent, urging her back against the pillows. “Oh, no, you don’t.
Not yet. You’re not strong enough. Tell me where to go, what to look for.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” She gave up struggling and sagged into the mattress,
exhausted. No way was she going to let him hunt for the sword while she languished in bed. He’d find the damned thing and she’d never see him or it again.
Not that it mattered if she saw him again. She bit her lip, unhappy with the taste of the
lie souring her mouth.
What should it matter?
Answer? It shouldn’t.
But it did.
And she didn’t know quite what to think about that.
“Every journal I found was filled with clues. Clues and more clues. A hodgepodge
network of riddles I had to work through. Riddles only I could work through. The clues
form a map of sorts leading to yet another journal. It’s a complicated process, one I’d hoped
I was reaching the end of.” She studied his face, bit her lip. And decided to test the waters.
Would he keep to his word, or was he no better than the other demons she’d encountered?
No better, just sneakier? “Dad said he would leave a trail of breadcrumbs, should the sword
ever disappear.”
“So there is a way to recover it, even though it’s in Stolas’s hands?” He leaned forward,
his expression avid.
His excitement set off faint warning bells. Was it just ingrained caution? Or something
more sinister? She hesitated. She needed him to trust her, regardless of whether or not she
trusted him. If he trusted her, he might relax his guard. If his guard was down, she might be
able to escape if need be.
Besides, he already knew most of the crucial information. She wasn’t confirming
anything new. Not yet, at least.
“Yes.”
“Yes, for sure. Or yes, you hope?”
Stirring herself, she replied, “Yes. Definitely, yes. He would have ensured there was
some way to find it, no matter what. I firmly believe that. But we can’t wait. Too much is
riding on that sword.”
Sebastian sat there, his hip pressed to hers as he leaned across her, his expression
inscrutable. His palm was braced on the mattress beside her hip, pinning her in place. He
regarded her with such intensity she fought the urge to squirm.
“What are you?” His question came out of left field.
She sucked in a sharp breath. How could he know? How had he figured out that she
wasn’t—
“I know you don’t trust me, not yet. But in order for me to do my job, in order for me
to protect you to the best of my ability, you have to tell me what you are.”
He waited. She swallowed. He cocked an eyebrow. She blinked. He was clearly growing
impatient by her continued silence. Still, she couldn’t do it, couldn’t tell him what had
happened to her, what she’d seen in the mirror the day she’d learned of her father’s death.
Eventually, Sebastian heaved a sigh. “Mark my words. I will find out, Phoebe. I don’t
know what you’re so afraid of, why you fear telling me. But I’ll find out.” He stood and bent
over her. And then he flattened his hands on either side of her shoulders, pinning her as he
got in her space. “I will find out. And I’ll still stand beside you. I’ll protect you anyway. Even
if I have to protect you from yourself.”
He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead, shocking her speechless, before he straightened
and moved toward the door. “If you can get up, can get dressed on your own, and meet me downstairs in twenty
minutes, I’ll take you back to Mexico tonight. Otherwise, the trip will have to wait until
you’re stronger.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” she pointed out, cursing when her arms shook violently,
threatening to give way as she pushed up on the bed once more. Phoebe squawked in
surprise when a stack of neatly folded clothing appeared beside her without any warning.
Why did she get the feeling she was in over her head? Way, way over her head.
“Thank you,” she said, gritting her teeth in determination. Perspiration beaded her
upper lip as she managed to get into an upright position. She clutched the sheet to her chest
with one hand and reached for the pile of clothing with the other. “I appreciate all you’ve
done for me, Sebastian. You’ve been…beyond kind.”
He stopped halfway across the room and slowly turned. The smile he sent her nearly
stopped her heart.
“Sweetheart, there are three very important things you need to know about me…know
and remember above and beyond anything else. First, I don’t have an altruistic bone in my
body.”
Phoebe blinked.
“Second, when I want something, I won’t ever stop until I get it. Not. Ever.” He paused,
stared at her for a long moment, stared hard, as if to make certain she not only heard but
completely understood every last word. A heavy sense of foreboding settled in the pit of her
stomach and she frowned.
“And third… I. Want. You.”
The smile he gave her left her with no doubt in her mind over what he’d meant by
that last remark. And then he vanished. A long moment later, she sucked in a shuddering
lungful of air. That old adage about frying pans and fires came back to her once more.
“What did I just get myself into?”
over on her side to face him. She tugged the blankets up, tucking them firmly in place. “It
shouldn’t be a major issue, not unless they’re familiar with the region. My father encrypted
all his journals. It was a code he only ever taught to me. It started out as a game when I
was young, but then, after the fire, it became serious. Eventually it was the only way we
communicated about anything, at least in writing. They won’t be able to read the journal
themselves, I’m sure of that much at least.”
“Then we still have a slight advantage.”
“Not with me in this bed,” Phoebe pointed out, filled with determination. Once more,
ignoring the trembling of her limbs and the shaking in her hands, she made to sit up.
But Sebastian was on his feet before she could blink. His large hand pressed against her
good shoulder, careful but insistent, urging her back against the pillows. “Oh, no, you don’t.
Not yet. You’re not strong enough. Tell me where to go, what to look for.”
“That’s just it. I don’t know.” She gave up struggling and sagged into the mattress,
exhausted. No way was she going to let him hunt for the sword while she languished in bed. He’d find the damned thing and she’d never see him or it again.
Not that it mattered if she saw him again. She bit her lip, unhappy with the taste of the
lie souring her mouth.
What should it matter?
Answer? It shouldn’t.
But it did.
And she didn’t know quite what to think about that.
“Every journal I found was filled with clues. Clues and more clues. A hodgepodge
network of riddles I had to work through. Riddles only I could work through. The clues
form a map of sorts leading to yet another journal. It’s a complicated process, one I’d hoped
I was reaching the end of.” She studied his face, bit her lip. And decided to test the waters.
Would he keep to his word, or was he no better than the other demons she’d encountered?
No better, just sneakier? “Dad said he would leave a trail of breadcrumbs, should the sword
ever disappear.”
“So there is a way to recover it, even though it’s in Stolas’s hands?” He leaned forward,
his expression avid.
His excitement set off faint warning bells. Was it just ingrained caution? Or something
more sinister? She hesitated. She needed him to trust her, regardless of whether or not she
trusted him. If he trusted her, he might relax his guard. If his guard was down, she might be
able to escape if need be.
Besides, he already knew most of the crucial information. She wasn’t confirming
anything new. Not yet, at least.
“Yes.”
“Yes, for sure. Or yes, you hope?”
Stirring herself, she replied, “Yes. Definitely, yes. He would have ensured there was
some way to find it, no matter what. I firmly believe that. But we can’t wait. Too much is
riding on that sword.”
Sebastian sat there, his hip pressed to hers as he leaned across her, his expression
inscrutable. His palm was braced on the mattress beside her hip, pinning her in place. He
regarded her with such intensity she fought the urge to squirm.
“What are you?” His question came out of left field.
She sucked in a sharp breath. How could he know? How had he figured out that she
wasn’t—
“I know you don’t trust me, not yet. But in order for me to do my job, in order for me
to protect you to the best of my ability, you have to tell me what you are.”
He waited. She swallowed. He cocked an eyebrow. She blinked. He was clearly growing
impatient by her continued silence. Still, she couldn’t do it, couldn’t tell him what had
happened to her, what she’d seen in the mirror the day she’d learned of her father’s death.
Eventually, Sebastian heaved a sigh. “Mark my words. I will find out, Phoebe. I don’t
know what you’re so afraid of, why you fear telling me. But I’ll find out.” He stood and bent
over her. And then he flattened his hands on either side of her shoulders, pinning her as he
got in her space. “I will find out. And I’ll still stand beside you. I’ll protect you anyway. Even
if I have to protect you from yourself.”
He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead, shocking her speechless, before he straightened
and moved toward the door. “If you can get up, can get dressed on your own, and meet me downstairs in twenty
minutes, I’ll take you back to Mexico tonight. Otherwise, the trip will have to wait until
you’re stronger.”
“I don’t have any clothes,” she pointed out, cursing when her arms shook violently,
threatening to give way as she pushed up on the bed once more. Phoebe squawked in
surprise when a stack of neatly folded clothing appeared beside her without any warning.
Why did she get the feeling she was in over her head? Way, way over her head.
“Thank you,” she said, gritting her teeth in determination. Perspiration beaded her
upper lip as she managed to get into an upright position. She clutched the sheet to her chest
with one hand and reached for the pile of clothing with the other. “I appreciate all you’ve
done for me, Sebastian. You’ve been…beyond kind.”
He stopped halfway across the room and slowly turned. The smile he sent her nearly
stopped her heart.
“Sweetheart, there are three very important things you need to know about me…know
and remember above and beyond anything else. First, I don’t have an altruistic bone in my
body.”
Phoebe blinked.
“Second, when I want something, I won’t ever stop until I get it. Not. Ever.” He paused,
stared at her for a long moment, stared hard, as if to make certain she not only heard but
completely understood every last word. A heavy sense of foreboding settled in the pit of her
stomach and she frowned.
“And third… I. Want. You.”
The smile he gave her left her with no doubt in her mind over what he’d meant by
that last remark. And then he vanished. A long moment later, she sucked in a shuddering
lungful of air. That old adage about frying pans and fires came back to her once more.
“What did I just get myself into?”
