Beverley Bateman (Author Interview)

Beverley Bateman (Author Interview)

Posted by on Dec 18, 2015 in Author Interviews, Writer's Life | 3 comments

Beverley Bateman

Author Interview

December 18, 2015

Please tell us a little about yourself, the romance subgenre(s) in which you write, and your newest book.

I’m Canadian, although I do winter in Tucson. I write mostly romantic suspense. I did write one medical thriller and co-authored a horror romance. My newest book, just released, is Targeted – Kye’s story. It’s a romantic suspense and the third book in the Hawkins Ranch series.

What inspired you to write romance fiction?

It’s the characters. In romance they are well-developed and rounded. The h/h relationship is multi-faceted with challenges. I enjoy the personal growth and how the characters grow and change. And how the relationship develops and is resolved. I have read some excellent mysteries and suspense books, but most of the time I miss that connection with h/h ad the characters are often more two dimensional.

Tell us about your favorite hero from one of your stories. What do you love about him?

I think it’s Cody Hawkins. He’s the hero in Hunted, the first book of the Hawkins Ranch series. He’s a good-looking Montana cowboy. He’s self confident and dependable. When asked for help, he comes. No questions asked. I love him walking through an elegant international type hotel in jeans, cowboy boots and a cowboy hat. Even though someone shoots at the heroine she refuses to allow him to help her. He kidnaps her and brings her back home. He’s an alpha male, but raised by a strong mother and tries to be empathetic.

What’s your favorite part of writing?

That’s easy. It’s the plotting. I love developing the plot and trying to show character development through adversity. And of course killing people is always fun.

What’s the most exotic setting you’ve chosen for one of your stories and why did you choose it?

That would be A Cruise to Remember. As the title says, it’s a cruise set in the Caribbean with stops at several Caribbean islands including Puerto Rico, Barbados and Martinique. I had taken a couple of Caribbean cruises about that time and thought it would be a great setting for a book.

What stories do you have in the works right now?

I’m working on two stories. I wrote Death Southern Style during NaNo. It’s a romantic suspense set in New Orleans. It starts with a murder and has a touch of paranormal in it. I need to finish writing it and edit it. I’m also writing the fourth in the Hawkins Ranch series, Escaped – Gabe’s story.

SM-Bev 417Qd5jRT9L._UX250_I’m a Canadian author and live in the Okanagan Valley in BC, Canada among vineyards, orchards, lakes and mountains with my two Shiba Inu dogs – oh, and my husband. I sit on my deck, sip a local wine and pen my latest romantic suspense.

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After and eleven-year absence Janna Kincaid inherits a ranch and is forced to return to a town she only remembers with unhappiness, a man to whom she was briefly married and never wants to see again, and someone is trying to kill her.

Kye Hawkins has loved Janna since he first met her. They were married but a few weeks later she ran away, without an explanation. He still hasn’t figured out why. Now she’s coming back. Does she still love him? Can he rekindle the romance and also prevent her from being killed?

Janna doesn’t want Kye’s help in anyway, yet he always seems to be there when she’s in trouble. Can they work together to find a killer, save the Native burial ground and home of the spirits, and find romance again?


She debated whether to try and outrun the shooter, wherever he was, or find cover. The windshield shattered as a third bullet entered the passenger side.

So much for outrunning the shooter.

She scanned the area and spotted an outcropping of rocks a few feet ahead on her right. She aimed the vehicle in that direction.

Two more shots, and both the back tires went down.

Definitely find cover.

Janna ducked low behind the steering wheel until the vehicle reached the rocks. When the car stopped, she grabbed the keys from the ignition and her purse and dove out the door. Bullets bounced off the rocks behind her as she scrambled for cover. Whoever was doing the shooting was serous. Anyone of the shots could have hit her.

She reached the rocks, keeping low until she got to the middle where she curled up as tightly as possible, her back against a rock. Her heart pounded in her ears, her breathing came in gasps. This was getting to be a habit. First someone tried to kill her in Seattle, and now, out in this god-forsaken country.

What the hell is going on? Why are they shooting at me? Was it the same person who shot at me in Seattle? That doesn’t seem likely, but who even knew I was coming here? Maybe it’s someone just trying to rob a stranger.

Yeah right, be honest, Janna, does this road look like many strangers came this way? And if they did, would they have a lot to steal? You really think this person selected a spot in the rocks where he would have a good shot at my vehicle. Coincidence? Not damn likely.

She yanked out her cell and punched in 9-1-1.

Damn—no reception.

A pounding pulsed through the ground and came closer. Janna could feel the vibrations. It felt like horses. She glanced around, without raising her head, to see what was coming.

Suddenly there was a hand in front of her face.

“Grab it and jump on.”

The deep, rumbling voice was not asking. It was an order.

Janna grabbed the strong hand. In one smooth motion, she swung up behind a man on his horse. Seconds later, she had her hands wrapped around his well-developed, muscular chest, as the big chestnut thundered across the ground, out of the bullets’ range.

The man wore a leather jacket over a sweater. Her hands slid under the jacket for better grip. Even through the sweater she could feel sinewy muscles. She laid her head against his back and his braid. She took a breath in, inhaling the rich scent of leather, trying to calm her racing heart rate.

The muscles of his well-developed shoulders bunched and relaxed as he led the horse at a gallop across the field. She felt safe for some unfathomable reason.

He had a familiar woodsy scent that made her think of sex under pine trees, not that she’d ever made love there.

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