Welcome Author Jess Buffett

ABOUT

JESS BUFFETT

jessbuffett@gmail.com

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Jess Buffett was born and raised in New South Wales, Australia. She is married to a wonderful and supportive husband and they live on the Central Coast with their two children. Jess is a hopeless romantic who loves stories about true love that sizzle with a happy ending. She is a huge fan of M/M and M/F romance—anything with hunky men in all their glory, whether they be Shifters, Vampires, Cowboys, or the boy next door. Jess believes in soul mates, happily ever afters, and in love at first sight, but that sometimes people need a second or a third for the brain to catch up.

THE KAYAN'S MAGE [HUNTER CLAN 1]

BUY

Sawyer McLeod lost his family and his entire Guild, except his twin, seven years ago. Now almost twenty-one, he is coming to the age to receive his abilities as a Mage. Unfortunately there are others who will stop at nothing to see the brothers don’t survive that long.

When Jake Hunter, Kayan for a Clan of Wolf Shifters living in Australia, finally finds his true-mate, he doesn’t expect it to be in the midst of a brutal attack. Through omissions of truth, misunderstandings, and fear, Jake struggles to prove to Sawyer that he can trust him.

When Sawyer is finally willing to give Jake a chance, a ghost from the past returns to destroy everything they have built together. Will they be able to overcome the foe long thought gone, or will it be the end for the Kayan’s Mage?

STORY EXCERPT

“Com’ere, blondie,” the middle man slurred, his body swaying as he spoke. Sawyer could smell the pungent scent of stale alcohol from where he stood and shivered in revulsion when the man’s eyes raked over him. Worse still was when the man cupped his crotch and licked his lips like they were some sort of delicious meal he couldn’t wait to dig into. God, he was going to be sick.

Riley reached over and gripped Sawyer’s hand tight. He could feel the tremors running through his brother’s body, but he was hiding it well. While they may have had a slight advantage since neither he nor his brother was human, these men were big and outnumbered them. And if Elijah knew what Sawyer and Riley were, he also knew how old they were and that they wouldn’t have their abilities yet. Prime pickings.

“Seems they think they’re too good for us, Bear,” the one to Bear’s left chuckled. He took a step forward, and Sawyer couldn’t contain the whimper of fear that passed his lips even as he stepped sideways to place himself in front of his twin.

“Well now, Tiger, we’ll just have to change their minds. Won’t we, blondie?” sneered Bear.

Really, Tiger and Bear! Who were these guys, the rejects from an L. Frank Baum novel? Sawyer was just waiting for the guy on the right to pipe up and announce to the class that his name was Lion. If they were shifters, maybe he’d get it.

Wait, scrap that. Not even shifters would be that corny.

From behind him, he heard Riley mutter, “Lions, tigers, and bears, oh my.”

A snigger slipped past Sawyer’s lips, clearly indicating that his self-preservation wasn’t kicking in. Both of them had always found the most inappropriate things amusing when they were scared, and unfortunately for them, Bear didn’t seem to appreciate their particular brand of humour. No one ever did.

A fist collided with the side of his head, blindsiding him and knocking him to the ground. From where he fell, Sawyer shoved at Riley, moaning for him to run. Somewhere to his left he heard Riley scream his name, but there was nothing he could do but draw their attention, giving his brother a chance to escape as another hard kick landed in his stomach. That was going to leave a mark. Managing to regain his footing, Sawyer blocked the next hit, following it up with a right hook of his own. His fist collided with the man’s temple and the guy went down with a grunt. All those years they had spent on the street were paying off, and by the look on Elijah’s face, he hadn’t been prepared for that. A small sliver of satisfaction ran through Sawyer. The arsehole hadn’t expected on him fighting back, which meant he didn’t know Sawyer as well as he thought he did.

“That’s right, bitch. This twink fights back,” he spat out.

Focusing on the next guy, Sawyer was able to take down two more before becoming overwhelmed. He just couldn’t keep up, taking more hits than he could dish out. Blow after blow struck him until he was unable to fight back, dropping to the ground. He could feel the blood from one of the wounds on his heads dripping down, and he knew there were more where that came from. It was hard to kill one of his kind, but blood loss was a definite possibility at this point, and all he could do was lay there and take whatever they threw at him. His body was like one big lightning bolt of pain, but he refused to beg them to stop. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, the blows ceased. But before Sawyer had a chance to feel relief, the hands returned, this time touching and blindly groping, trying to tear at his clothes.

Oh, God. No.

Bile rose into his throat as he felt his shirt rip and another set of hands go for the zipper of his jeans, tearing at the button. He tried to buck the hands off, but with as battered as he was, all it did was excite them more. Elijah’s hand came down and clamped Sawyer’s jaw tightly with a strength that surprised him, keeping his head locked in one place. Staring into the eyes of a man he once called friend, for a moment Sawyer could have sworn he saw a flicker of pain and sadness cross the man’s face, but it was gone just as quickly to be replaced with the emotionless expression he had worn all night. Tears mixed with the blood running down Sawyer’s cheeks as he acknowledged what was coming and that there was no way he could stop it. He sent up a silent prayer that Riley had gotten away, and that he would never see this.

Suddenly a feral growl ripped through the lot from behind the men that held him down, taking them all by surprise. Then everything stopped.

INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW

Q: If you could spend a day with one of your characters, who would it be and why?

If I had to choose one, it would have to be Riley. He’s sassy, sarcastic, fun and full of useless information that could keep me entertained for hours. He wants to have fun and be ‘out-there’ and isn’t afraid of that. He’d be someone I could see myself having a hell of a time with. Riley is one character that I really enjoy writing for and including in scenes.

Q: Are you plot or character driven? Please elaborate.

Character, but not for the lack of trying. I try to follow a plot…I really do, but it never works out that way. When I start I always write a plot outline, so I know which direction I’m going in and where I want to end up. Never sticks. My boys end up going off on their own little tangent and making their own stuff up as they go along. I usually stop to look back at the plot outline and think “How the hell did they end up in that situation?”

Q: What is the one thing you must have to be able to write?

As cliché as it sounds…coffee. I’m addicted anyway, but when I’m writing it’s like a necessity and my hubby knows to just keep it coming. He doesn’t even have to ask. Half the time I glance down and find I have one waiting for me.

Q: Have you ever gotten writer’s block? How do you get past it?

I read, and if that doesn’t help then I write out a new story plot. The amount of WIP that I have just sitting on my laptop is ridiculous, and half of them may never get written, but it works.

Q: Can you offer advice on how to move on from the dreaded rejection letter?

With any rejection letter there is usually a list of reasons why. The biggest issue I had was trying not to take it personally. While the story is personal for you the other person is usually just trying to help and point out what doesn’t or won’t work. I take what they say and I work with it on my own terms.

Q: When is your favorite time of day to write?

Night. When the kids are in bed and everything is done. I work best when there are no distractions. If something is happening or someone is talking, then I’m done for. I do try during the day, but my best stuff is usually at night when I can just let it flow.