Thursday, May 22, 2014

Day 4: AGAINST THE WILD (Brodies of Alaska, #1) by Kat Martin 5 day Excerpt Tour & Giveaway

Release Day: MAY 27, 2014


Alaska: Where the men are as bold and untamed as America's last wilderness...

It's been three years since Lane Bishop tragically lost her fiancé, and she's finally ready to risk her heart on someone else. The hot look in Dylan Brodie's eyes says he's going to be that man.

But when Lane flies to the remote 1930s fishing lodge to help him renovate, she discovers a little girl who won't speak, eerie legends and strange sounds in the night. And when she investigates the history of the lodge, she uncovers a legacy of injustice and murder.

As danger stalks his daughter and the woman he is coming to love, Dylan must risk everything to uncover the shocking truth.


“Take it easy--all of you.  Okay, I won’t argue anymore.  I’m convinced something strange is going on.  As of right now, I’m not stopping until I figure out what it is.”

“Did you see that?”  Lane was dressed in her jeans and T-shirt and standing in the doorway of the suite.
“I’m not sure what I saw.”
“I think...I think it was the ghost.”
“Bullshit.  There’s no such thing.”
Her chin hiked up.  “Then who was crying?”  
Dylan gritted his teeth.  “I don’t know.  Maybe the wind has found a spot to seep through that makes a sound like that.”  
“You saw something.  Admit it.”
“I didn’t see a blue Indian.”
“No, but--“
“Look, Lane.  I’ll admit something unusual is going on.  Tomorrow I’ll do whatever it takes to figure out what it is.  In the meantime, why don’t we try to get some sleep?”
Lane shook her head.  “I’m awake now and it’s getting late.  I think I’ll stay in my own room.”
He could see by the stubborn tilt of her chin it wouldn’t do any good to argue.  “All right.  If you’re sure that’s what you want.”  
She bit her lip.  He could read the indecision in her pretty green eyes.  It relieved him a little to know she didn’t want to sleep alone, either.
“I think it’s for the best.”
He just nodded.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”  Holding open her door, he waited till she disappeared inside, closed the door, and walked back into his sitting room.  
Dragging a chair over to the doorway, he sat down facing the hall.  Lane was right about one thing.  Something was definitely going on.  
Three hours later, he woke up still sitting in the chair, irritated at himself for falling asleep.  The only thing he had to show for his efforts was a stiff neck and a bad disposition.  Whatever was happening in the house, clearly he wasn’t going to figure it out tonight.
Dylan yawned.  Setting the chair back in place, he closed the door and padded off to bed.  He hoped like hell he’d be able to sleep.

Breakfast was a quiet affair the next morning.  Emily finished early and went outside to play with Finn.  Neither Caleb nor Paddy O’Ryan had shown up.  Lane and Winnie weren’t doing much talking, either.    
“Sleep okay?” Dylan finally asked Lane, just to stir her up a little and see what she’d say.
Faint color rose beneath the bones in her cheeks.  “Actually I did.  After the excitement was over, I slept very well.”
Winnie looked up from her place at the end of the table.  “What excitement?”
“Last night, we heard something that sounded like a child crying,” Lane said.  “I’ve heard the same sound before.”
Winnie wiped her mouth with a paper napkin.  “It wasn’t Emily, was it?”
“No,” Dylan said.  
“I’ve heard it a couple of times,” Winnie said, suddenly unable to meet his eyes as she toyed with the food on her plate.  “I checked on Emily but she was asleep.”
The bite of eggs Dylan had taken seemed to stick in his throat.  “Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“I knew you’d heard the rumors.  You had enough on your mind trying to get this place in order, and I didn’t want to upset you.  But now that we’re talking about it, I might as well tell you the rest.”
Dylan set his fork down next to his plate.  “Crap, what else?”
“At night, before I go to bed, I always check the windows, make sure they’re locked.  But every once in a while when I get up in the morning they’re unlocked.”
His stomach was churning.  “Anything else?” 
“The pictures on the walls...sometimes I find them hanging upside down.”
“I saw a ghost, Winnie,” Lane said.  “It was an Indian warrior, but it was kind of blue and I could see right through it.  I saw it upstairs in the hall outside my bedroom.  I think it was there again last night.”
“Oh, dear.”
Stifling a curse, Dylan looked up to see Paddy O’Ryan walking into the kitchen, Caleb right on his heels.  
“We got a problem, boss,” Paddy said, his red hair sticking up, windblown and in need of a comb.
“Some of the crew heard about the murders that happened out here,” Caleb said.  “One of the guys claims he was driving home after dark a couple of days ago and saw blue lights in the attic window.  This morning, there was writing on the wall in one of the bathrooms we’ve been working on in the guest wing.”
“Writing,” Dylan said darkly.
“That’s right,” Paddy said.  “And it looks like it was painted in blood.”
Dylan came up off the bench, slammed his napkin down on the table.  “Sonofabitch!”  
“Most of the crew took off--all the guys from Yeil.  The plumber headed back to Waterside.  They say they aren’t making enough to work in a haunted house.”
Dylan’s jaw felt tight.  “I’ve got to see this.  Upstairs or down?”  
“Downstairs,” Caleb said.
Heading out the kitchen door, he strode through the formal dining room across the great hall, into the guest wing.  Just as Caleb had said, the wall one of the bathrooms had been painted with streaky red letters.  Crimson dripped eerily all the way to the floor.
“Tlingit?” he said to Caleb.
“Looks like it.”
“What’s it say?”
Caleb’s mouth edged up.  “I don’t have a clue.  But one of the guys from Yeil is a full-blood.  He claims it says.  Leave.  Now.”
Dylan walked over and ran a finger through one of the red streaks on the wall.  
“Is it blood?” Lane asked, appearing in the doorway, her face a little pale.  Dylan hadn’t realized she’d followed them.
He sniffed the red on his finger, recognized the coppery scent.  “Yeah, it’s blood.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Take it easy--all of you.  Okay, I won’t argue anymore.  I’m convinced something strange is going on.  As of right now, I’m not stopping until I figure out what it is.”
Lane and Caleb exchanged a glance.  Neither of them believed he would find anything normal that could explain the odd happenings.

“Caleb, as soon as you and Paddy finish breakfast, we’re going to do a room-by-room search of this place.  The crew won’t work.  Guests won’t come if they think the place is haunted.  I still don’t believe in ghosts, but I’m beginning to believe someone wants us out of here.  We’re going to find out who the hell it is--and why.”



Kathleen Kelly Martin (aka Kathy LawrenceKasey Mars)

Kathleen Kelly was born on 14 July 1947 in the Central Valley of California, USA. She obtained a degree in Anthropology and History from the University of California in Santa Barbara. She was a real estate broker, when she met her future husband, Larry Jay Martin. A short time after the two became acquainted, Larry asked her to read an unpublished manuscript of an historical western he'd written. Kat fell in love with both the book and the author! Then, after doing some editing for him, she thought she'd try her own hand at writing. She moved on to become a full time writer.

Punlished since 1988, she singed her books with her married name, Kat Martin, but she also used two pseudonyms: Kathy Lawrence for a book incollaboration with her husband Larry Jay Martin, and Kasey Marx for her first contemporary romances. The New York Times bestselling writer, among her many awards, has won the prestigious RT Book Review Magazine Career Achievement Award. To date, Kat has over eleven million copies of her books in print. She has been published in seventeen foreign countries, including England, South Africa, Spain, Argentina, Germany, Italy, Greece, Norway, Sweden, Russia, Bulgaria, China, and Korea.

Currently residing with her husband, a Western-writer and photographer, in Missoula, Montana, USA. But when they are not writing, they also enjoy skiing and traveling, particularly to Europe. 

"I've always loved books. I was an avid reader, with any number of my own stories rolling around in my head. Writing them down seemed a logical step."

"I love anything old," Kat says. "I love to travel and especially like to visit the places where my books are set. My husband and I often stay in out-of-the-way inns and houses built in times past. It's fun and it gives a wonderful sense of a by-gone era."



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