by Geralyn Beauchamp
Next we have Shona Whittard (our heroine), and her ditzy, boy-crazy best friend, Kitty Morgan, who can’t get a date to save her life. A pre-med student, Kitty decides at the end of Time Masters Book Two, The Prophecy, to ditch pre-med and start writing romance novels. Why? Because that way she can have any man she wants, at least on paper. She’s written forty books to date, all historical western romance. Heaven only knows, however, where she gets her story ideas. The fact that Dallan, Shona, Lany, not to mention a few others show up in some of her books now and then, gives us a hint. Is she writing fiction? Or is she taking Dallan and Shona’s adventures and using them to write her own?
What we have here is a mix of genres. Time Travel and Historical Western Romance. Kitty Morgan (aka Kit Morgan) writes Historical Western Romance with a twist. The twist being, she is a fictional character from my Time Master series and has more books out than I, (Geralyn Beauchamp) do! I’m real, she’s not! Now how did that happen? But it did, and the result is fun, fun, fun!
So this brings us back to the original question. Is Kitty making her stories up herself, or is she taking what Dallan and Shona do, and turning them into a western historical romance? Hmmm. Well, if we read Kitty’s books, we know what’s happening with the characters she writes about. But what about Dallan and Shona? What are those same stories going to look like when we read them from their point of view? In other words, what really happened? My readers will start to find out with future Time Master books!
From a writer’s perspective, this is what we call blending genres. From a reader’s perspective, this is called fun, but only if done properly. Kitty’s westerns are fun, clean reads with a strong sense of community. But only if one hasn’t read Time Masters. If one has, then you can pick up the second story line flowing beneath the surface. This makes many of Kit Morgan’s books two stories in one. They can be read as is, as nice little western romance book, or, with the twist. It’s up to the reader and what they want.
As the author, this has been a lot of fun. The only problem is, Kitty has become so popular that I hardly have a chance to write about Dallan and Shona’s adventures! But as more and more readers want them, Kitty has had to set aside her laptop and get back into the Time Master story line! Not that she minds. Doing so only serves to give her more things to write about.
Connect with Kit: Website | Facebook | Twitter
Geralyn's Featured Time Travel: The Call
Get ready for one wild ride! The year is 3698 and an unknown instigator has the
threat of civil war not only brewing, but near boiling! Dallan MacDonald, Time Master Kwaku Awahnee's pre-chosen successor, must now take up the office of Time Master to stop the culprit before war erupts and destroys the race of Men. There are, however, a few slight problems. To become a Time Master, the unsuspecting Highlander has to willingly join with a Muiraran Maiden, a creature of incredible power who, stolen as an infant, hidden in another time, and now grown, must mate or die. To save her, Dallan must convince the Maiden of her true origins, then get her to fall in love with him. A small task compared to their impossible race against time! Now all Kwaku has to do is make sure the clueless Scot is ready to listen to what's expected of him. And then, of course, talk him into it.
Meanwhile, in the latter half of the twentieth century ...
Shona Whittard had a lot. Everything she could possibly ask for, some would say. Except the freedom to run her own life and make her own decisions. Other girls her age were in their second year of college while she was still under her mother's and tutor Julia's educational thumbs. Other girls went to parties. Shona was stuck at home studying some ridiculous cultural etiquette and was well tutored as to what was acceptable for a young lady to do or say in not only the twentieth century, but the fifteenth through nineteenth centuries as well. Other girls dated. Shona, not allowed to date, was jealous of the freedom of choice normal girls had.
Shona was just going to have to face facts. It was, after all, the logical thing to do. She wasn't some astounding musical sensation to be envied. She was a freak. Little did she know she was so much more.
And little did any of them know of the evil that wanted to claim the Maiden for its own ...
Available Here: Amazon
Angus caught up to him. “Let me take him in, Lord John. I’m more familiar with these sorts o’ places. I know what, uh, he needs to look for.”
John frowned, weighing Angus’s words. “All right, go ahead. Take him in, get a good look, and then bring him out. Lany and I will take it from there.” He glanced at Lany. “Right?”
Lany swallowed and stared at Dallan; all six-feet-six of him. “Right.” he replied, his voice even flatter than usual.
Dallan pushed open the double doors and stepped inside, Angus hobbling along behind him. The doors closed.
Dallan looked around and covered his ears. The music was loud, the people’s shouts deafening. He’d never in his life heard such an irritating racket, and at first glance, the people looked out of control. Upon closer inspection, however, he saw they danced and twirled as one huge group, all making the same motions with their hands and bodies, stomping their boot-clad feet in unison. He slowly uncovered his ears and glared at Angus. “Where is it? I’ll ha’ my look and then be gone! I dinna like it here!”
Angus nodded and scanned the area, searching.
Dallan, too, searched the huge room with a trained eye. He scanned the walls, the corners, the tables, looking for any sort of unusual weapon. Nothing. “I dinna see this thing, Angus. Ye’ll ha’ to point it out.”
Angus’s face went pale. He swallowed hard and peered up at Dallan. “Nay, lad, best ye see it for yerself. Believe me; ye’ll know it when ye sees it.”
Dallan glared. “How d’ye expect me to fetch it when I dinna ken what it looks like?”
Angus swallowed again and took an involuntary step back. “Look around, laddie. It’s here. By all that is holy, it’s here.”
Dallan couldn’t believe it. The man had fear in his eyes. He scanned the room again. The people were everywhere, dancing and shouting. The music was still loud, with a man singing about the Almighty blessing someone named Texas. In a darkened corner, a huge lighted contraption glowed, apparently the source of the music.
A reddish flash caught his eye as a series of whoops and jeers rent the air. Several men had just thrown a woman atop a long serving counter. She started to dance, her movements quick and graceful. Her long red hair flew about her as she twisted and spun, a large black hat of some sort covering her head and most of her face. Dallan feared she would fall, knowing she couldn’t possibly see with the hat over her eyes. He took an unconscious step forward, and braced himself to run and catch her if need be.
She spun again and faced him, her small body swaying to the fast music. He couldn’t tear his eyes from her, though he knew he needed to continue his search. He was transfixed, the music dying away from his ears.
The woman lifted the hat from her face.
Dallan gasped and stumbled backward, almost falling on top of Angus. A bolt of searing heat shot through his body as his eyes locked on hers.
Her eyes were a brilliant green, the same as his, and they bore into him like lightning, traveling through him and out the doors behind him to who knows where. The confirmation hit him so hard, so fast, that he stepped back onto Angus’s feet, causing them both to stumble. The two men grabbed at each other to keep from falling.
“By the saints!” Dallan breathed.
The woman let the hat fall over her face and broke the frightening hold she had on him. He nearly fell over again, but Angus caught him. “Easy, lad, easy. Hold together now.” He tried to steer Dallan to the door.
Dallan stood to his full height and wrenched his arm from the small man. The woman! She was what John was after! He burst through the doors leading outside, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed, jaw twitching.
Lany pushed himself away from the pole he’d been leaning against. “Ah, see, Eaton? What did I tell you? I knew he’d be able to recognize … uh-oh.”
“John!” Dallan bellowed as his angry strides brought him closer.
Lany nodded to himself nervously. “Instant recognition, from the sound of it. You’ll excuse me for a second?”
“Don’t you dare,” John glared at his assistant before he stood straight, preparing for the verbal onslaught.
Dallan stopped directly in front of him, eyes set to kill, and bent to the shorter man’s face. “Ye ask me to trust. Ye tell me the Muiraran can get me home. Ye tell me how bloody close I am to getting away from the heathen! But ye seem to ha’ forgotten to tell me that the weapon, this … this Muiraran, is a woman!” He turned his face from John abruptly, caught his breath, and spun on him again. “Tell me, just how is a drunken woman to get me home?”
John’s eyes widened. “Drunken?” His voice, he thought, seemed a little weak.
Dallan’s expression exploded in exasperation as he pointed to the building. “Aye, dancing on the serving counter, no less! What sort o’ place is this, a bloody brothel? Saints, man, have ye lost yer senses? I’ll ha’ no part o’ this, no part at all! Either ye play straight with me, or let me be on my way!”
John stood staring up at him, his face expressionless. Lany smiled to himself. “Ah, love at first sight.”
Dallan glared at him. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”
Lany threw both hands up in front of him. “Nothing.” He turned to his superior. “Right.
I’ll shut up.”
John took a deep breath. “Dallan, I didn’t tell you what the Muiraran was because I wasn’t allowed to.”
No one thought it possible, but Dallan’s eyes narrowed even further. “Dinna tell me. Let me guess.”
“It wasn’t Kwaku. It was the Elders … of my people.” John tried to remain calm while he spoke, even going so far as to begin drawing circles in the gravel of the parking lot with his foot. “They felt you wouldn’t help us if you were told.”
Dallan snorted. “Ye canna call her even that. Why, she’s naught but a wee lassie, nary more than six and ten.”
“Oh, she’s a bit older than that, Dallan. And whether you like it or not, she is still the only means you have of getting home.”
John took a step toward him, closing the distance between them, and looked directly into his eyes. “And she is still the only one able to save my people … and yours.”