Welcome Diane Burton, scifi romance writer extraordinaire!
The Pilot is my latest book. (blurb and excerpt below) It’s the start of a new science fiction romance series about strong women on the frontier of space. Think the wild west of the 1800’s.
If you were to do it all over again, would you change anything in your latest book?
Not a thing. It went through many changes, revisions, edits until it reached the present state. I’m very happy with the final result.
Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?
When I was in high school, my girlfriend and I would write stories based on our favorite TV shows, inserting our fictional selves into the stories. We were writing fan fiction and didn’t know it. LOL
Do you have a favorite object pertinent to your writing?
My laptop, a cup of (Keurig) coffee and my comfortable chair with a footrest. When I’m in the “zone” I could write for hours.
What do you love about your latest book?
I love Celara’s spunk. She’s small but doesn’t let others ride roughshod over her. She’s brought herself up by her bootstraps, so to speak. Everything she’s accomplished she’s done on her own.
Do your fictional characters develop on their own, or do you have their lives planned out in advance?
They develop on their own. I’ll have a sense of who they are at the beginning, but then they surprise me with details from their past.
What type of scene do you enjoy writing the most?
First meeting between the hero and heroine. I love the “dance” as each realizes the other is someone special.
When did you discover you are a writer? Was there a specific catalyst?
When I decided to start writing. My kids were nearing college age and my involvement in their school activities was winding down. It was time to do something I wanted to do for myself. I’d been reading romances for years and thought I would write one. It was much harder than I expected. LOL
How does it feel when you write?
Like I’m in another world. I zone out as the action and dialogue take place in my head then are transferred to the computer screen. Hubs will ask me questions, I’ll answer and not remember what either of us said. He’s gotten used to me being off in another galaxy.
Of all the wonderful pieces you’ve written, which is your favorite?
Switched was my first published book. So it holds a special place in my heart. I loved Switched, Too because of the hero. I’d written the book before the TV show “Castle” came on. In many ways, Scott is like Castle. He appears to be a big goofy kid that drives the heroine crazy. Yet he has a depth to him not readily seen.
I love The Pilot because it’s a new world, different from the Switched world. But I think my favorite is always the book I’m currently writing. Right now, it’s the third book in the Switched series.
What’s your favorite place you’ve visited? Do you have a “must see” destination on your bucket list?
My favorite place is Colorado. I love Rocky Mountain National Park. When I was in my 20s, my sister, girlfriend and I hiked up to the Arapaho Glacier (near Boulder). Very strenuous so we rested often then were embarrassed when older people passed us on the trail. LOL The fabulous view was definitely worth it. Bucket list? An Alaskan cruise.
Is there something funny about you people don’t know?
A long time ago, friends hosted a 1930s era “gangster” party. While the other women dressed up as glamorous “dolls”, I went as an Italian mama. I bought a dress at Goodwill that was about three sizes too big and lace-up granny shoes. I stuffed a pillow up top and skinned my hair back into a bun. I got a lot of laughs.
Thanks so much for having me here, Maria.
Thank you for being here! I love the story of that gangster party!
Determined to bring order to the frontier, rule-bound official Trevarr Jovano refuses to tolerate those who disrespect the law. So when an indie pilot refuses to obey, he seizes her ship and cargo.
The only thing Celara cares about more than her ship is her brother. To rescue him from the clutches of a galactic gangster, she’ll even join forces with Trevarr who is bent on avenging his wife’s murder.
The Pilot is available:
- For Kindle at: http://amzn.com/B00AE6OH4K
- For Nook at: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-pilot-diane-burton/1113871371?ean=2940015808575
- In paperback at: http://amzn.com/1481148214
About Diane Burton:
Diane Burton combines her love of mystery, adventure, science fiction and romance into writing romantic fiction. She’s a member of Romance Writers of America® as well as the Mid-Michigan, Young Adult and Fantasy, Futuristic & Paranormal RWA chapters as well as the SFR Brigade. She is the author of the Switched series, about twins exchanging places — from Earth to a starship and the reverse. With The Pilot, she begins a new series about strong women on the frontier of space. She is also a contributor to the anthology How I Met My Husband. Diane and her husband live in Michigan. They have two children and two grandchildren.
See more of Diane here:
- Webpage: www.dianeburton.com
- Blog: http://dianeburton.blogspot.com
- Facebook: http://facebook.com/dianeburtonauthor
- Twitter: @dmburton72
Excerpt from The Pilot
“Go ahead and eat, Administrator. Your food will get cold.”
With suspicion, he eyed the plate of scrambled spherix eggs and side of fried plantens. “I am debating whether you could have slipped poison into my food as your friend brought it to the table. Or maybe some neelonga leaves in my tea while I was looking at your leg.”
“You mean when you were ogling under my skirt?” Then she appeared to collect herself. She laughed, a quiet, deliberately delicate laugh—so different from the others he had heard. The genuine ones. “Silly boy.” She flopped her wrist in a playful gesture. “I have come to apologize for my unseemly behavior yesterday.” She smiled sweetly.
“Of course. I should have guessed.” Giving her a wry look, he picked up the crockery mug of aromatic tea. Staring into the depths, he made a show of inspecting it for foreign substances. “Are you apologizing for attempting to inflict bruises or for insulting my heritage?” He snapped his fingers. “I have it. You are apologizing for contributing to the hearing loss in my right ear.”
Her knuckles shone white before she dropped her hands into her lap.
“Administrator Jovano.” Her voice contained a good mix of apology and pleading. “Please forgive me. I should not have interrupted your First Meal. When I came in and saw you here, I knew I couldn’t eat until I settled the matter between us. I didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, so torn was I with remorse. Why, I wanted to rush to your residence last night and offer amends, but Arjay convinced me to wait until morning.”
“How? Did your AI tie you to the bed?”
“Of course not.” She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for an unpleasant task. Eating one’s words was never pleasant. What had she asked him? Boiled, broiled or fried?
“Yesterday, I was a trifle upset.” She sniffed delicately.
Trifle? In the ensuing pause, while he waited to see how deep a hole she could dig for herself, utensils clattered on crockery and voices murmured.
“I am certain a man as perceptive as you understands how distressing it was.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. When she looked up, her eyes shimmered with tears.
While she heaved a sigh, he took a bite of the spherix eggs. They were delicious, as always. Baro was a chef worthy of the finest eating establishments in the capital city. His talents were wasted out here.
Trevarr looked at d’Enfaden thoughtfully. “Those Terrans—the ones whose entertainment you record—have an aphorism that is appropriate for this occasion.” He paused to sip his tea. “If I believe your performance, you have a . . . bridge to sell?” At her astonished look, he blinked twice as if perplexed. “Did I not get the expression right?”
She jumped up, all trace of tears—and smiles—gone. He thought he heard a small popping sound that increased when she planted her palms on the table and leaned in. What he saw next completely distracted him from the soft noises. The scoop neck of the overlarge dress gaped.
Well now, Trevarr smiled. He had been fairly certain her breasts were not confined by a supportive undergarment—not that he recalled seeing supportive undergarments in the drawers she had emptied yesterday. Her bright green undertunic also gaped.
Heat jolted through him. A heat he hadn’t experienced since—
“Oh, you got it right, buddy.” Her voice, as strident as it had been yesterday in the repair bay, attracted attention from the diners. “Here’s another saying from Earth. ‘There’s no place like home.’ You stole mine, and I want it back.” She flipped the contents of his plate into his lap.
On her way past the astonished newcomers, she called through the open window to the kitchen. “Baro, Admin Man needs a new meal.”
During the silence that hung in the wake of Celara d’Enfaden’s exit, he was more aware of the fine way her gauzy skirt displayed the twitch of her hips than he was of the blue spherix eggs and pink plantens in his lap.
Sweet Divinity, he thought with a smile. What a fem.