2. Graduated from Cornish College of the Arts with a BFA in Acting. Not so crazy, right? Except my graduating class was 10 people. One of those ten was Brendan Fraser. Yep. The dude from The Mummy. We went through three years of acting conservatory together. I crushed hard. He did not. Ah, the unfairness of life, eh?
3. I am a practicing Third Degree Wicca in a Celtic Tradition. No. No skyclad. In Seattle, that was wicked too cold. And in Florida, well, there are just some sunburns that don't bear thinking about. Also? Snakes. And bugs. Oh my stars, the bugs.
4. Did the penultimate Seattle thing and lived aboard a sailboat for a decade. With a husband and (when we started) four cats. Our eldest cat was deaf, and she LOVED that boat. The others were afraid of the engine noise. Not her. It was a heated, vibrating bed as far as she was concerned and she was ALL in. If we started the engine, she'd come running from where ever she was to hope up beside the helm station to help navigate. Copilot Erie is still legend among us. (That's her in the basket, offering moral support to the pilot.)
3. I am a practicing Third Degree Wicca in a Celtic Tradition. No. No skyclad. In Seattle, that was wicked too cold. And in Florida, well, there are just some sunburns that don't bear thinking about. Also? Snakes. And bugs. Oh my stars, the bugs.
4. Did the penultimate Seattle thing and lived aboard a sailboat for a decade. With a husband and (when we started) four cats. Our eldest cat was deaf, and she LOVED that boat. The others were afraid of the engine noise. Not her. It was a heated, vibrating bed as far as she was concerned and she was ALL in. If we started the engine, she'd come running from where ever she was to hope up beside the helm station to help navigate. Copilot Erie is still legend among us. (That's her in the basket, offering moral support to the pilot.)
Also. This is the model for some of my spaceships and it's possible that when I sailed it, I was pretending I was piloting outer space. Don't tell the Coast Guard. I don't think I had the permits for that.
PS: If you read Radish, I have a hot SFR novella set in the same world as Enemy Within. It's called Enemy Mine and you meet the hero of this novella in Enemy Within. It's a sexy story with BDSM undertones that I wrote on a dare (with the generous help of the author who'd challenged me in the first place.) You can find the story by looking for the title, or under my name.
Enemy Within (Chronicles of the Empire Book One)
by Marcella Burnard
July 17, 2019
Genre: Sci-Fi Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
ISBN: 978-1-5092-2698-6 Paperback
ISBN: 978-1-5092-2699-3 Digital
Number of pages: 422
Word Count: 98539
Cover Artist: Debbie Taylor
The military hung her out to dry. Captain Ari Idylle isn’t going to dangle.
Horrific torture in an alien prison torpedoed Captain Ari Idylle's military career. Stripped of command and banished to her father's scientific expedition to finish a PhD she doesn't want, Ari refuses to fly a desk. She intends to have her command back by any means possible, until pirates commandeer her father's ship, and she's once again a prisoner. Perhaps this cunning captor isn't what he pretends to be.
As far as Cullin Seaghdh is concerned, the same goes for Ari. Her past association with aliens puts her dead center in Cullin's cross-hairs. If she hasn't been brainwashed and returned as a spy, then she must be part of a traitorous alliance endangering billions of lives. He can't afford the desire she fires within him. His mission comes first. He'll stop at nothing, including her destruction, to uncover her true purpose and protect what is his.
Excerpt:
“You know how to use that thing?” He nodded at the energy blade in her hand.
She swallowed outrage and awarded him a tight smile. “I am proficient.”
He grinned. “Ever fight for your life?”
“No,” she said, pleased her tone remained steady.
His smile deepened. “Then this isn’t so different. We aren’t fighting for your life, are we? We’re fighting for theirs.” He gestured at the knot of scientists.
Fear gripped her. She’d won matches. She had awards. She practiced religiously. Sure, she’d fought Chekydran with the might of an Armada Prowler at her disposal. But energy blade combat had always been a highly regulated sport, a dance with specific choreography designed to minimize injury. She’d never dueled for anything of more value than a bit of metal or a piece of paper to hang on her office wall. Swallowing hard, she eased into guard position.
Taking his time, he matched her stance. Ari did her best not to frown at the avid smiles on his men’s faces or at the effortless way he sank into position and crossed his blade with hers.
Her mind raced. She had to find a way to keep everyone alive. No matter the cost.
Captain Cullin Seaghdh tapped her blade with his, bringing her attention back to her predicament and his damnably cocky grin.
“You’re willing to trade your life for theirs?” he asked, his question pitched for her ears only, his smile gone and his gaze searching.
Troubled, she shook her head. “Are you intimating I have a choice?”
“Then fight.” He lunged.
Ari scrambled back, her parries thrown off by the aggressive attack. He didn’t press his advantage. That maddening grin flashed at her as he backed off. One step. Two.
Charity. She wanted to scream at him. She clamped her jaw shut and advanced the ground he’d offered.
“Out of practice?” He opened his defenses, daring her.
She accepted, ignoring the taunt. She had no intention of explaining that she’d had a hard time keeping up on weapons practice while a prisoner of war. Her attack wavered, but she pulled it together and forced him back a step to avoid her blade. He drew her in and then pushed her back, like a teacher hearing lessons. She ached to wipe that smile from his face.
“Point,” he said, nodding at her chest.
She glanced down. The bastard had sliced clean through her jacket and the buttons of her shirt. A shiver ran through her. One millimeter more and she’d be bleeding, probably on the floor. A slice like that one took enough control and skill to scare her.
“Lesson one,” he said. “Watch the man wielding the blade, but never lose sight of the business end.”
Lessons? Or something more? From the shock of physical awareness twining through her blood, she suspected they were no longer discussing energy blades.
Snarling to cover the grudging admiration at Seaghdh’s skill welling up within her, Ari charged him. He did not retreat. They locked, body to body, blade to blade. Feeling the leashed strength coiled in him, she knew instantly that she’d made a mistake, one that in any other circumstance would have been fatal. Scorched where their bodies strained against one another at chest and hip, she struggled to control the rush of yearning crashing her defenses. What was wrong with her?
She met his hooded gaze. Desire glittered in the golden depths of his eyes. Pleasure rocketed through her, almost painful in its intensity. She’d forgotten what if felt like to be appreciated as a woman, and the want in his eyes, shadowed by surprise, took her breath away.
She swallowed outrage and awarded him a tight smile. “I am proficient.”
He grinned. “Ever fight for your life?”
“No,” she said, pleased her tone remained steady.
His smile deepened. “Then this isn’t so different. We aren’t fighting for your life, are we? We’re fighting for theirs.” He gestured at the knot of scientists.
Fear gripped her. She’d won matches. She had awards. She practiced religiously. Sure, she’d fought Chekydran with the might of an Armada Prowler at her disposal. But energy blade combat had always been a highly regulated sport, a dance with specific choreography designed to minimize injury. She’d never dueled for anything of more value than a bit of metal or a piece of paper to hang on her office wall. Swallowing hard, she eased into guard position.
Taking his time, he matched her stance. Ari did her best not to frown at the avid smiles on his men’s faces or at the effortless way he sank into position and crossed his blade with hers.
Her mind raced. She had to find a way to keep everyone alive. No matter the cost.
Captain Cullin Seaghdh tapped her blade with his, bringing her attention back to her predicament and his damnably cocky grin.
“You’re willing to trade your life for theirs?” he asked, his question pitched for her ears only, his smile gone and his gaze searching.
Troubled, she shook her head. “Are you intimating I have a choice?”
“Then fight.” He lunged.
Ari scrambled back, her parries thrown off by the aggressive attack. He didn’t press his advantage. That maddening grin flashed at her as he backed off. One step. Two.
Charity. She wanted to scream at him. She clamped her jaw shut and advanced the ground he’d offered.
“Out of practice?” He opened his defenses, daring her.
She accepted, ignoring the taunt. She had no intention of explaining that she’d had a hard time keeping up on weapons practice while a prisoner of war. Her attack wavered, but she pulled it together and forced him back a step to avoid her blade. He drew her in and then pushed her back, like a teacher hearing lessons. She ached to wipe that smile from his face.
“Point,” he said, nodding at her chest.
She glanced down. The bastard had sliced clean through her jacket and the buttons of her shirt. A shiver ran through her. One millimeter more and she’d be bleeding, probably on the floor. A slice like that one took enough control and skill to scare her.
“Lesson one,” he said. “Watch the man wielding the blade, but never lose sight of the business end.”
Lessons? Or something more? From the shock of physical awareness twining through her blood, she suspected they were no longer discussing energy blades.
Snarling to cover the grudging admiration at Seaghdh’s skill welling up within her, Ari charged him. He did not retreat. They locked, body to body, blade to blade. Feeling the leashed strength coiled in him, she knew instantly that she’d made a mistake, one that in any other circumstance would have been fatal. Scorched where their bodies strained against one another at chest and hip, she struggled to control the rush of yearning crashing her defenses. What was wrong with her?
She met his hooded gaze. Desire glittered in the golden depths of his eyes. Pleasure rocketed through her, almost painful in its intensity. She’d forgotten what if felt like to be appreciated as a woman, and the want in his eyes, shadowed by surprise, took her breath away.
About the Author:
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Marcella Burnard graduated from Cornish College of the Arts with a degree in acting. She’s a Tarot-reading, Third-degree Wiccan who knows far too much about space travel because she desperately wanted to be an astronaut when she grew up. Turns out she gets air sick. She wisely decided to write space travel instead. Marcella writes science fiction romance, urban fantasy, paranormal, and fantasy. If a story brings the weird, Marcella’s right there for it. She lives in Florida where she and her husband are outnumbered by cats. Marcella is actively involved in feline rescue in the Tampa Bay area and you can always find cat photos and videos on her Facebook page or on her Instagram account.
Tour Giveaway
4 $10 Amazon gift cards
Thanks for the chance.
ReplyDeleteThank you for stopping in to enter, Nancy!
DeleteI want to read more in this genre and this sounds exciting. Thanks for sharing the interview.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping in, Laura. If you pick up the book, I hope it's as much fun for you to read as it was for me to write!
DeleteI Promise not to tell the Coast Guard.
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed the excerpt - thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteSounds like it should be a good read. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteDo cat type creatures show up in your books?
ReplyDeleteI am always looking for new authors to read. Your book sounds like the kind I enjoy reading
ReplyDeletejwisley(at)aol(dot)com
Crushing on Brendan Fraiser! That's awesome!
ReplyDeleteSounds like a great book.
ReplyDeleteWhere did you get your inspiration for this book? How much research went into it? I am always interested and no I am no author.
ReplyDelete