Thursday, January 31, 2013

Ocean Kills by Jade Hart: Character Interview and Excerpt: Bewitching Tour Stop


Character Interview with Callan Bliss from Ocean Kills

Hello Callan.  Thanks for being here today.  I know you are ready to get started and our readers are anxious to hear more about you.  :)  Where do you dream of traveling to and why?

I don’t think I can answer that one. How about I say the globe? I can’t choose one place as I want to visit them all. Right from the hottest desert to Antarctica. I live and breathe travel, to me it opens up the world and I’m extremely lucky that my job with the KCIA allows me to do just that. Plus, I’m not sure if I’m allowed to talk about Ocean, but she loves to travel too. In that respect we have a lot of things in common.

Tell us about your family.


Well, my little sister is pregnant to her douche-bag boyfriend and I can’t stand the thought of him getting jiggy with my little sibling. I guess he’ll be my brother-in-law as he proposed but I’m still not liking it. My mum is adorable and I call her Strawberry on account of her red-blonde hair. And I call my father by his first name, Trevor, to get back at him for calling me such a horrid nick-name all my life. And no, I am not going to reveal what that nick-name is. I’d die of shame.


What was the scariest moment of your life?


Ah, that’s easy. Scariest moment was when I died. Was that a bit dramatic? Let me explain: I was nine and we’d gone to the beach for my birthday. I got caught in a rip and was pulled out to sea. I drowned in the waves and don’t remember anything apart from waking up in hospital. The ocean terrified me but I faced my fear by asking my parents to sign me up to surfing lessons. It became an addiction and I now love the ocean. I’ll never forget how dangerous it can be though.  Of course, that doesn’t count watching Ocean commit a murder right in front of my eyes. That ranks as pretty damn scary.

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up?


I seriously didn’t give much thought to career choices. I just wanted to travel and experience new things. I thought perhaps I could go pro with surfing, but then I caught got up with law enforcement and stayed with it.

What is your favorite meal?


Lamb chops with plum sauce. Yum. I’d also never say no to French toast. And now that I know Ocean adores Crème Brulee, I adore it too. Just a sap.

What do you do to unwind and relax?


Surf. It settles me. Washes away the tension that builds from my job. And I’d like to say hang out with Ocean, but she only increases my anxiety. Either with the danger she places herself in, or the need to kiss her so that protective shell of hers cracks.

Morning Person? Or Night Person? How do you know?


Night person. Do not come and wake me up. I’m bordering on being an insomniac and if you wake me up, chances are I’ve just fallen asleep. So don’t do that as I sleep with a gun next to my bed. Just sayin’, it could get messy.

What would we find under your bed?


Not sure if I should say this aloud, but I have a special compartment under the floorboards under my bed that houses a few secrets and is where I keep Ocean’s money stash.


Thanks for having me on your blog J

Jade Hart is a self-confessed book worm who is happiest glued to a lap-top with an eternal battery life and typing up stories running rampant in her head.

Jade currently resides in Middle-Earth with her husband and house-rabbit, but has lived in Australia, England, and Hong Kong. And uses her travels as inspiration for her work. 

Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Blog  |  Joint Blog

Around the world, murderers and rapists pick off the innocent. Killing loved ones, separating families, and ruining lives. 

As an eight-year-old girl, Ocean witnessed her family’s massacre and something altered inside her. Twisting her genetic code… unlocking an ability to teleport.

Ocean Breeze was never destined to be normal, especially having been named after air-freshener. She’s a shadow, a ghost—a dark saviour of the innocent. Armed with a switchblade in her bra, and a box-cutter in her pocket, she hunts the filth of the world. 

Callan Bliss is a Sydney police officer whose skill-set is far above that of a normal cop. All his fellow officers see is a hard worker who loves to catch perpetrators and surf, but that’s because they don’t know about his past. When Callan arrests a suspicious-looking prostitute, he comes face-to-face with a self-confessed vigilante, and suddenly, his secrets aren’t so easy to keep silent.

Ocean hates the police with a passion, and has no intention of being held captive by a cop, even if he is sexy as hell. Teleporting from under his nose, Ocean hunts her next target—a man responsible for the largest sex ring in South Africa—and now he’s about to die. But she doesn’t count on Callan giving chase, nor the body-quaking lust that consumes them. However, Ocean's dark hobbies take precedence over what her heart wants—her thirst for murdering is killing her too, and not even Callan can save her.

A Sexy New Adult Urban Fantasy that takes place in exotic locations, follows a kick-ass heroine, and a swoon-worthy hero. Warning - contains sex

Amazon  |  Goodreads

Chapter One:
My name is Ocean Breeze. Yep. Ocean freakin' Breeze. It was my mom's attempt at some posh-sounding name. She was inspired by—get this—a bottle of toilet air-freshener. My heart squeezed at the thought of the cookie-scented woman with hugs as warm as sunshine.
The sound of my Nikes pummeling the pavement chased away my thoughts, and the slapping of rubber against asphalt was similar to the slap the last prostitute-abusing john gave me. Stinking bastard. No one raises a hand to Ocean Breeze without losing an appendage. Or more, as the case may be.
I swiped my hands on my red vinyl miniskirt. It wasn't exactly an attractive outfit—Nikes with a miniskirt? But I'd learned the hard way. Running in heels never worked. Ever. The sleazy men who paid for sex didn't care what was on my feet, only what was between them.
I jumped and jived through the crowd. It was two in the morning, and the streets of Kings Cross, Sydney, were a hive of activity. Drunken students hauled themselves from karaoke clubs. Rich business men back-slapped each other for the lap dance from the uni-student, who pocketed their tips to pay for her law degree. This place was full of clichés and smut.
And I loved it.
I could disappear here. I was a nobody. Even boasting a pair of ruby lips and a figure that could've graced the center fold of Playboy, I didn’t stand out. Beauty was coveted in the Cross, and plastic surgery was the salvation if nature didn’t do the work.
So why was I running?
I just killed a guy. That's why.
I bolted past the three-story-sized Coca-Cola advertisement, blazing red and white, and disappeared into an alley full of meth-heads and crack whores. I leaped over comatose figures, sprinting toward the city center. Keep running. Get far away.
The night was heavy with muggy heat, unusual for this time of year, and sweat made my miniskirt slide against my thighs.
Kings Cross embraced sin and naughtiness—the suburb encouraged unleashed pleasure and endless partying. It also encouraged rapists and murderers who lurked in the shadows. . . waiting.
A flash of blue and red lights.
Fuck! I pirouetted and charged down another alley, passing a gay club blasting Kylie Minogue. Ugh.
“You! Stop!”
Yeah, no chance of that, fat douche. I flipped him the bird and kept running. He jumped back in his cruiser and gave chase. Lazy bastard. Too many kebabs and doughnuts for that slob. He wouldn't catch me. No one ever caught me.
My ruby lips curved. I loved the chase. I loved the kill. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t enjoy murdering someone, but I did enjoy the knowledge that he’d never hurt another. My cut throat actions saved other would-be victims. Plus, that john deserved it.
Memories overtook my vision. Heavy breath on my cheek, rancid smell as he slobbered on my neck. Then warm, oozing blood as my weapon of convenience—a long skinny oyster knife—buried deep in the man's groin. Ridding him of a vital piece of his anatomy and draining his body of crimson. One moment alive, the next—not. Then rushed practicality: Dispose of my surgical gloves. Wipe the corpse with antiseptic wipes. Remove the man's DNA, fingerprints, and blood from my body.
Adrenaline spiked, dousing my already overloaded system. My heart thudded as fast as the bass at a techno club. The pavement flickered and I stumbled.
No, not now! My vision danced like a mirage. I no longer had control of my body.
Sirens were closer, screeching in my ears. Keep moving, Ocean! For freakin' sake, move!
No amount of yelling could stop the migraine from consuming me. I screamed and clutched my temples, slamming to the concrete. The sidewalk danced under my phantasm goggles, no longer acting like rock and tar, but candy floss and gossamer. I'm going. I'm going. . .
Cold claws grasped my bare shoulders. “You're coming with us.”

Next Few Stops

Feb 1 Guest blog

Feb 3 Promo and review
Lissette E. Manning

Feb 4 Guest blog
Buffy's Ramblings

Feb 5 Interview
Immortality & Beyond

Feb 5 Review
A Bibliophiles Thoughts on Books

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