Books-n-Kisses is super excited to have Pamela Palmer back on the blog today. We are chatting about Wulfe Untamed
Pamela, can you please share with us a little about yourself
Hi Kelly and everyone! It’s great to be here. I write the Feral Warrior series, the Vamp City series, the Esri series, and the Scottish time travel Jewels of Time series (any other Outlander fans out there?). I’ve been fortunate enough to hit the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists with my books, all of which tend to be high action romantic adventures of one kind or another.
Have you always wanted to be an author?
Not at all. The story is on my website and my bio, and any of you who know me have heard it before, but I grew up wanting to be an astronaut. That drove me to getting an engineering degree. I worked for IBM for awhile, but ultimately had to write down the stories that were crowding my head.
Can you please tell us about your latest Wulfe Untamed
Wulfe Untamed, Feral Warriors book 8, comes out January 28th and is the big, climactic ending to the Feral Warriors story. It’s the final showdown in the Ferals’ battle to keep the Daemons from rising. It also continues the relationship begun three books ago between Wulfe and the human woman, Natalie Cash, who was briefly a prisoner in the Feral House dungeon.
From the back cover:
The most enigmatic and tortured of the Feral Warriors, Wulfe is haunted by the quiet beauty of a human woman who no longer remembers him. Once a captive of both the Mage and the Ferals, Natalie stole a piece of his heart before he took her memories and sent her safely back to her fiancé. But now the Mage are threatening her again and Wulfe will risk anything to protect her.
Natalie Cash is stunned when she’s saved by a wolf who shifts suddenly into a splendidly built, if badly-scarred, man–a man with the kindest eyes. Swept into a world of intrigue and danger beyond her comprehension, she turns to the powerful Wulfe, finding a passion she’d only dreamed of. But when time runs out, they must trust one another and surrender to a wild, untamed love.
I know that you have stated that Wulfe’s book is the last in the Feral Warriors series. But there seems to be a couple of characters that didn’t get a story. Will we see Grizz or Vhypers’ stories in the near future?
The end of the story snuck up on me, I admit. I’d intended to at least let Grizz get a happily ever after first, but then suddenly the climax was there, barreling down on the Ferals, and there was no stopping it. I’ve promised Grizz I’ll write his book in the not-to-distant future. (Yes, I’ve talked to him. Once we bring the characters to life, they absolutely live. Never doubt it.) I also plan to write Vhyper’s story, though he couldn’t care less about finding a mate, so he says. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think he deserves one. I may write their books as part of another multi-book story line, or they may be standalones. I haven’t decided yet. I also have an idea for a Feral world spin-off that I’d love to pursue, but all of this is going to have to wait just a little while.
Can you share with us your current work(s) in progress?
Absolutely. I’m currently working on two projects simultaneously, the third book in the Vamp City series, and something entirely different—a romantic thriller with a paranormal twist. I can’t tell you much more than that, and I don’t have release dates for either of these books, yet. But my muse and I are completely immersed in the writing of these tales.
Who is the one author that you would love to meet someday and why?
J.K. Rowling. Not only is she brilliant and phenomenally talented, but she’s such an inspiration.
What is the best piece of advice you would give to someone that wants to get into writing?
Don’t be too quick to self-publish your first book. Keep in mind that, as writers, we can rarely see our own work clearly, which is why I still have two good writer friends critique everything I write before my editor even sees it. Finishing your first book is an incredible high and no one does that without dreaming they’re about to become the Next Big Thing. In the olden days, which was only a few years ago, reality quickly hit the new writer with that first rejection letter. And the second, and the one hundred forty-seventh. (I don’t think I ever reached one hundred forty-seven, but I lost count after about eighty.) Today, with the advent of self-publishing, there’s no longer that reality check. Anyone can publish anything, and that’s not always a good thing. If you publish that first book, a few years from now, when you have a few more books under your belt and your writing has vastly improved, you may regret being so hasty. I have two completed manuscripts that will never see the light of day, plus half a dozen partials. They were my learning books and I had plenty that I needed to learn, even if I couldn’t see it at the time. It takes patience, I know, but I advise writing three books before you publish anything. And by ‘books’ I’m talking at least 50-60,000 words each. I suspect that, if you’re like me, by the end of that third book, your writing will be so much improved that when you go back and re-read the first one again, you’ll wince. At that point, go back and rewrite those first books using your stronger writing skills. Then submit to publishers, look for an agent, or self-publish. Never underestimate the power of a strong first impression.
Can you share with us something off your bucket list.
I actually started tackling one bucket list item each year a few years ago. The first was to try Tae Kwon Do. I really intended to work toward my black belt (how cool would that be?), but I quit after a year, after suffering a toe injury. Yes, I know. Lame. But it woke me up to the possibility that next time it could be a knee, or an elbow, and I’d only been doing it on a lark. I decided to quit while I was ahead, though I have to admit, I loved Tae Kwon Do while I was doing it. The next year, I shot a gun for the very first time, a tiny one my dad bought for my mom right after they were married. I don’t think it had been shot in decades, but Dad and I took it down to the local police firing range and gave it a try. Since several of my characters are FBI agents or cops, I’d been wanting to know what it felt like to actually shoot a gun, though I’m fairly sure my experience was nothing like firing a Glock. The third year, I did the zip-line and ropes course over the Brevard Zoo in Melbourne, Florida. If you ever get a chance, I highly recommend it. Most of the things left on my bucket list are places I want to visit: Australia, New Zeeland, Iceland, etc. At the moment, none of them are in my immediate future, but that could change at any time!
Who is your Celebrity crush? And what would you do if you ever meet them?
I tend to have character crushes rather than celebrity crushes. Aragorn…be still my heart. Viggo? Not so much. While I’d enjoy meeting him, I definitely wouldn’t call him a crush. Alcide, Thor, Eric Northman…yes, yes, yes. But I’m far more excited about the real heroes (or bad boys) than the actors playing them. Unfortunately, meeting my real crushes can only take place in my head.
Is there anything else you would like to add?
Thanks for having me!
*****
Wulfe Untamed
Wulfe knows the end-game is approaching. The Mage are preparing to free the Daemon plague and Wulfe’s own small strain of Daemon heritage has been awakened. Worse yet, the beautiful human he once rescued needs saving again. Though Mage sentinels are the ones after Natalie Cash, Wulfe knows his heart is what she really should watch out for. He’ll do everything he can to protect her…and keep his distance. Running for her life while trying not to fall for this gentle, wounded warrior, Natalie’s world’s been turned upside down. But when the Mage begin to free the Daemons, it becomes clear that the Ferals’ only chance of defeating them is for Wulfe to use Natalie to harness the dark forces-and risk becoming evil in the process. The future of the world hangs in the balance, but can Wolfe endanger the woman he loves to save her?
Don’t forget to check out Kelly’s review of Wulfe Untamed HERE
Excerpt :
“It’s me, boy. This might hurt, but I’ve got to staunch your wounds.”
Her fingers pressed gingerly, burrowing through Wolf’s fur, as she sought the site of the stab she’d seen him take to the shoulder. Warm blood coated her fingers and she knew she’d found it. As gently as possible, she pressed one of the shirts against the wound, then started searching for any others.
“Poor guy,” she whispered. “You chose the wrong night to come see me, but you probably saved my life.” She needed to get him to a vet. The beautiful animal made no sound, gave no indication of consciousness. He might be alive, but for how much longer?
Something skittered across the floor downstairs, stopping her heart for another moment. Why hadn’t they followed her upstairs? For that matter, how in the heck had she fallen asleep on the guest bed in the middle of an attack on her house? None of it made a bit of sense. The last thing she remembered was hitting one of the nasties with the lamp and the other one grabbing her. Had he hit her, then? She didn’t hurt anywhere. Somehow, she must have stumbled up here and passed out.
As she probed the dog’s side, she felt more warm blood and knew she’d discovered another wound. If only she could see them. If only she had a flashlight. Or…a camp lantern. Yes. Her camping supplies were stored in the closet in this room. Rising, she dug the lantern out of the bottom of the closet and turned it on only a little, bathing the injured animal in a soft glow.
He had blood everywhere. Her gut cramped. How was she supposed to know how much of the blood was his and how much belonged to the men? They’d been dressed so strangely, like some kind of foreign army, in matching blue tunics. And swords.
She pressed tee shirts against the two wounds she’d found so far, knowing she had to find the others, yet wondering what she was going to do with them if she did. She only had two hands. And no telephone or suturing supplies.
“Hang on, Wolf. Just hang on for me. Sooner or later, they’ll leave and I’ll be able to get you to a vet. What are they doing down there?” She heard something roll across the hardwood foyer. Roll. Suddenly she remembered the way they’d broken down her front door and relief left her on a hard exhale.
“It’s not them, it’s the wind. Of course, of course.” Leaping to her feet, she stroked Wolf’s head. “This is going to hurt, boy, but I have to move you if I’m going to get you help.”
She scooted around to his back end and, as gently as she could, lifted his hips and lowered them again a few inches out from the door. Moving to his head, she did the same, back and forth, a few inches at a time until she nearly had him far enough from the door to open it. Once more should be enough.
Sweat beading on her brow, she took a deep breath, squatted at his tail, and lifted his hips one more time.
Suddenly, her hands were empty, the dog just…gone…exploding in a spray of colored lights.
Natalie fell back, landing on her backside, then stared, jaw dropping, as a man appeared out of thin air…a huge, naked man lying on the floor right where the dog had been.
She crab-walked back, the bed catching her in the shoulder blades. This isn’t happening.
The man groaned and began to stir. Natalie tensed, her heart pounding violently in her chest as she pushed herself to her feet, then sank onto the bed when her legs refused to hold her.
Slowly, the man sat up and leaned back against the door, his muscular body marred by half a dozen stab wounds, one on the shoulder…right where the dog’s had been.
This isn’t happening. Dogs don’t turn into men. They don’t!
But even as the argument roared in her head, her gaze took in the sight in front of her. The man was built, his waist narrow, his abs ripped, his biceps as thick as tree trunks, one adorned with a thick golden armband with what appeared to be the head of a wolf. His shoulders were easily half the width of her sofa. Her gaze continued up, reaching his face, and her heart clenched. Scars crisscrossed the flesh every which way, tugging down one of his lips, cutting across one eye. His body might be prime, but his face was made for nightmares. Within that ruined face, eyelids lifted revealing dark eyes that turned to her, contracting on a sheen of pain, radiating a dismay so raw it almost made her ache.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Natalie.” His voice was low and urgent as he struggled to his feet, grimacing. Towering over her—he had to be a full seven feet tall—he watched her with eyes filled with the same intelligence, the same gentleness she’d seen in Wolf’s. “I would never hurt you.”
She was shaking, her pulse racing, her stomach cramping from shock. But not from fear. Because as she stared into those dark eyes, she saw only truth and honor and kindness. And, odd as it was, she recognized the essence of the dog in the man.
“I would never hurt you,” he said again, his voice throbbing with sincerity and desperation that she believe him.
“I know,” she told him.
And she did.
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