Welcome to Wizards with Words. I’ve got a spunky new wizard who has dropped by to ensnare everyone in her spell. And let me tell you, her post is riveting. Talk about adventure and a colorful life. Trish Jackson has an amazing tale to share.

Before we get started, however, I’d like to mention that I’m also hanging out at Sidney Bristol’s blog haunt today talking about WEATHERING ROCK, so if you get a chance feel free to drop by and keep me company for a while.

In the meantime, settle in as author Trish Jackson tells us a bit about herself, her books and her writing style. Get ready for some jaw-dropping action which Trish has experienced firsthand. Take it away, Trish!

~ooOOoo~

Mae, first I want to say I’m thrilled to be able to guest on your blog. You’ve had some great authors here and I feel very humbled.

My genre is romantic suspense, and here’s why…

My childhood would have been the envy of millions of kids – two happily married parents with a reasonable income and a suburban home in a quiet neighborhood, but it just didn’t hold enough excitement for me. I yearned for adventure.

Did I mention I grew up in Africa? And yes, there really are suburbs and cities there, just the same as in any other country. Lions and elephants do not roam around in the streets – they live out in the wilderness areas.

Looking back now, I know now my life really has been a romantic adventure, but the exciting stuff only happened after I grew up. In my last year of high school I met a very sexy guy with that bad boy image we all love. He was a geologist and had lived in a camp in some very wild areas, where he prospected for diamonds, shot antelope to eat and interacted with wild animals. He had dark unruly hair, deep blue eyes, a mesmerizing smile and a hot physique with strong shoulders and pecs and a butt to die for. I knew I wanted him from the minute I first set eyes on him, and made it my mission to get him. I was almost eighteen when we married.  Forty two years later we’re still together and he’s still hot. (I know, I know. We always think of romance writers being young, but one thing I’ve found out as I grew older – old age is all relevant. It’s how you think that makes you old or keeps you young. )

It would take more than one post to write about all the adventures we’ve had together, but to name just a couple: After we got married we lived in a geological camp. It was awesome to lie awake at night in our tent and listen to a leopard cough just outside. Geologists from all over the world visited our camp so we were never lonely. We had an African cook and when our first child was born, an African nanny, and one of the most awesome things I can remember was in the evenings when my husband would start singing a tribal song and Sam and Rhoda would join in and harmonize – and tribal Africans can sing really well. It gives me goose bumps to think of it even now.

A guerilla war started in our country and it wasn’t safe to have our kids out in a camp in the middle of nowhere, so we moved to a country home on ten acres. Home invasions and vehicle ambushes by communist trained terrorists became prevalent and we had to start carrying a loaded gun around with us wherever we went. We got an UZI and I practiced with it until I was deadly accurate. My husband was drafted to the military and went off and left me alone with three children. I had to go shopping with my UZI slung over my shoulder – you couldn’t just leave a weapon like that in your trunk and risk having it stolen.

I could go on, but I guess that’s why I love to write what I do.

Coming to live in the USA twenty one years ago was also an adventure. We had to learn so many new things about our new country, but this is our home now and we love it here.

Now to my books –

We have always lived in the country, and in the US that means you get to meet rednecks. I think they are the most wonderful people in the world because they are so well grounded and know exactly who they are. Writing REDNECK P.I., about Twila Taunton, a self-professed redneck, who has to choose between two hunky twins, has been more fun than anyone should legally have, and I’m very excited that the sequel, KICK ASSITUDE is coming out on March.

Of course, I had to write about Africa, and WAY OUT OF LINE is about two kids from Texas who fall in love and get into terrible trouble. They end up meeting years later in the wilds of Mozambique, Africa, and find that their love has endured. Now if they could only find their way back to civilization…

Today nothing excites me more than sitting in front of my computer putting my fantasies down in words for others to enjoy.

I’m working on a slew of other novels, incorporating country living and the animals I’ve always loved — horses, dogs and cats. I’m even venturing into the paranormal world; Ardent Aquarius is about a young psychic whose aunt died and left her a haunted mansion.

I love meeting new people, so please feel free to ask questions.

Excerpt
WAY OUT OF LINE

He kissed her gently, and then pulled back to see if she still looked as worried.

He saw the fire in her eyes and, his own flame instantly ignited. He pulled her towards him roughly, crushed his mouth against hers, his tongue stabbing urgently.

Trent met his need with fire. She writhed against him, moaned as his tongue explored the soft tissue of her mouth. Her breath came in harsh pants, and her hands scraped along his shoulders, tangled in his hair.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled herself up and crossed her legs behind his back.

He held her for a few moments while she buried her head in his shoulder. When she lifted it, her eyes were wet, her lashes tangled. “I love you so much, Hal. I’ve always loved you.”

He kissed her eyes, tasted the salty tears. She moaned. He brushed his lips on her nose. Moved down to her lips. He gripped her bottom lip gently with his teeth, pulled it into his mouth. He held it there for a moment before releasing it.

“I love the way you taste. I want to taste all of you.”

She released her legs and molded her body into his. Her pupils were huge.

He moved his hand to her blouse, picked at a button, felt it release. Moved down to the next and the next. She wore no bra. She gasped at his touch. Her nipples stood out hard, her breasts soft. He bent his head and moved his lips across them. Her breath became ragged.

He heard his own breathing. His head roared like a hurricane.

Through the fog of his passion, Hal became aware of something—a different noise. It was the sound of children’s laughter. He lifted his head.

A group of boys from the village were standing a few feet away, staring up at him.

“Fuck,” he panted. Trent turned away and fumbled with her buttons. “What do you boys want? Why don’t you go play?” He made pushing motions with his hands.

The children simply stared and giggled.

Hal sighed with resignation. He stroked Trent’s hair. “I love you, Trent.”

“I love you too. Please don’t ever leave me again.”

They made their way back to the village, arms interlinked.

The children followed them.

His body ached all over with unrequited desire.

You can find Trish Jackson at the following haunts:

Website
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Buy Trish’s books here: https://www.facebook.com/redneckpi/app_191387770912394