Spotlight & Giveaway: Mile High With A Vampire by Lynsay Sands

Today it is my pleasure to Welcome author Lynsay Sands to HJ!

Hi Lynsay and welcome to HJ! We’re so excited to chat with you about your new release, Mile High With A Vampire!

 
Hi Sara! Thank you for having me. 😉
 

Please summarize the book for the readers here:

This story is about Abigail’s friend Jet Lassiter who you met in Immortal Nights and Pet’s sister, Quinn Peters, who you met in The Trouble With Vampires.
This is book #33 in the Argeneau series and starts with a deadly plane crash that leaves Jet, Quinn and five immortals stranded, miles from anywhere with four of those five immortals seriously injured and in need of blood. This quickly becomes a very big problem for Jet because he’s the only surviving blood source within hundreds of miles of forest.

While Jet is a pretty strong guy and skilled in combat, he’s no match for an immortal and needs Quinn’s help to escape their pursuers. His calm demeanor and low-key self-confidence are the perfect contrast to their high tension scenario. Quinn, who has basically been on autopilot since she was turned four years ago and is still pretty green for an immortal, eventually snaps into action to get him as far away from the danger as possible. As they work together to flee their hungry pursuers, they discover they are potential life mates.
 

Please share the opening lines of this book:

Quinn was torn from a deep sleep to find herself in a world of noise and chaos. Shivering, she peered around with confusion, trying to understand how it could be so cold in the middle of summer, and what was happening to cause the shrieking and screaming going on around her. It wasn’t easy to sort out at first.

Please share a few Fun facts about this book…

• In his head, Jet calls the Russian immortals he’s transporting “she-pires”.
• Quinn thinks “Jet” is a stupid nickname.
• Jet, the mortal in the relationship, knows more about immortals than Quinn does, including what life mates are.
• Unable to explain about immortals, when Jet and Quinn happen upon the shelter of a fishing resort, they end up claiming they’re being chased down by mental patients… the most dangerous individuals they’ll ever encounter. Think Hannibal Lecter, Leatherface, Michael Myers, and Norman Bates.

Please tell us a little about the characters in your book. As you wrote your protagonist was there anything about them that surprised you?

Jet’s character was mostly revealed in Tomasso and Abs’ book. I was pleasantly surprised though when he stuck up for himself and set boundaries in his relationship with Quinn when necessary. If I had to describe Jet in four words, I’d say warm, calm, confident, and self-aware… the complete opposite to the Quinn we meet initially.

Now Quinn was a surprise. After she was turned against her will four years ago, she sort of fell off the map, literally. She crawled into her own protective shell and hibernated from everyone, including her son Parker and her sister Pet.
Though Quinn was very slow to the pitch, the combination of the plane crash and meeting her life mate were the impetus she needed to finally accept her new reality. Her transformation from being a complete shut-in and green in all ways immortal to a more aware and well-rounded, loving person was pleasantly surprising, not to mention necessary.

If your book was optioned for a movie, what scene would you use for the audition of the main characters and why?

This is a highly tense scene. It shows Quinn’s panic as she slowly comes to realize she is the only one who can help Jet and Jet’s panic when he sees how resistant she is to understand that she is his only hope of staying alive. Jet eventually gives up on her, but luckily for him, she gets over herself in a big way here.

“Her neck’s broken,” Quinn muttered with a concern that only grew when Liliya shifted the Russian to lie flat on the ground and Kira’s head fell to the side, revealing the bloody pulp the side of her face and neck were. The bear’s claws had sliced through her skin like knives through butter, starting at her nose and digging deeper as it reached her ear and neck.
Every single one of the five claws must have sliced through her jugular, Quinn thought grimly as she noted the amount of blood on Kira, the ground, and still pulsing from her neck.
The surgeon in her coming to the fore, Quinn placed a hand over the injured woman’s throat to staunch the flow of blood. “We should—”
“You must take Jet and go,” Liliya interrupted grimly, removing Quinn’s hand from the wound and using her hold to push her back. “Now.”
Quinn blinked in surprise at the harsh order. “Who is Jet?”
Liliya’s eyes widened with amazement even as she said, “The pilot.”
“You mean Lassiter?” she asked uncertainly.
“Lassiter is his last name. He goes by Jet,” Liliya explained.
“Oh,” she mumbled, but thought it was a stupid name. A nickname because he was a pilot, she supposed, and then shook the matter from her head and said, “But Kira—”
“Kira is wounded and has lost a lot of blood,” Liliya interrupted impatiently. “She is now almost as much of a threat to Jet as Nika, Marta, and Annika. You must get him away from here and to safety. Find the town or camp Kira saw from the tree and call for help for Kira and the others. They will need blood and lots of it.” Releasing the grip she had on her wrist, Liliya turned to peer down at Kira, muttering. “And tell them they must be quick if they wish to save Jet and whatever settlement it is you call from.”
“What?” Quinn asked with amazement. “Surely you don’t think they’d attack a town?”
“They are hungry and mindless,” Liliya said grimly. “Mad with blood lust. They will attack anyone they encounter that can satisfy that need. Now go before she wakes up. Get Jet as far from here as you can.”
“Alone?” Quinn gasped with dismay. “Can’t you at least come with us?”
Liliya shook her head at once. “I cannot leave Kira. I am her guard, always to be at her side. You will have to continue without me. Now go.”
Quinn hesitated, a frown curving her lips as she peered down at Kira. She didn’t want to go on alone. She felt safer with the Russian women. She didn’t know the first damned thing about the woods, or bears, or . . . even about immortals, really. Why the hell hadn’t she let Marguerite teach her as she’d tried to do?
“Go!”
Startled into movement by that bellow, Quinn scrambled to her feet, and then glanced around sharply when someone took her arm. It was the pilot. He’d followed her to Kira and Liliya and heard everything. Now he was urging her away from the women.
“We’d better get moving,” he said, steering her in the general direction they’d been traveling in before their encounter with the bear.
Still, Quinn dragged her feet. She’d never been in a situation like this and felt completely out of her depth. “I’m not sure—”
“I am,” Jet said grimly. “Can’t you hear them? They’re getting closer again and now Kira might be in as bad a shape when she wakes up. I’d rather not die in the woods torn apart by she-pires.”
“They aren’t she-pires,” Quinn snapped, and then fell silent for a minute and listened, her eyes widening as she heard the shrieks in the distance. They were closer than they had been when Kira had stopped to climb the tree. They were gaining ground. Hunting them, she thought, and swallowed anxiously, her gaze sliding to Liliya. She almost begged the woman to come with them, but Jet started dragging her away before she could.
“We have to move,” he insisted, urging her through the trees.
“You do, not we,” she said, yanking her arm away. She was more than a little irritated at being manhandled. Her husband used to do that, pushing her around, steering her here and there like she was a child who needed to be directed.
“You’re right,” Jet said grimly, taking a step back from her. His expression was suddenly grim and cold. “I don’t know why I thought a she-pire would bother to help a mere mortal like me get away from other she-pires. Stay with them, then. But I’m getting the hell out of here.”
He hurried away, bursting into a run, and Quinn stared after him, scowling, her conscience pricked.
“He doesn’t have a chance without you,” Liliya said quietly, drawing her gaze around to see that the petite blonde had straightened and joined her. “They’ll run him to ground and drain him dry.”
Quinn shifted unhappily at the suggestion, but said, “I’m not likely to be much help. I don’t know the woods, and I—” She shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not strong enough to carry him, or—”
“You are,” Liliya interrupted firmly. “You’re immortal. You’re as strong as I am. You can throw him over your shoulder just like Kira did. And you aren’t injured or lacking in blood so can outrun Kira and the others. His life depends on you, Quinn. So do the lives of the people in the camp or town Kira saw from the tree. Every mortal close enough for them to get to is in danger until Mortimer, the head of the Enforcers, sends rescuers with blood,” she said solemnly. “And that won’t happen until you get somewhere with a phone and call them in.”
“Oh God,” Quinn breathed, feeling sick to her stomach at the idea of so many lives depending on her strength and speed. Those had never been her long suit. She was a surgeon. Her mind had always been her best tool.
“Then use your mind,” Liliya said now, obviously having read her thoughts. “Use your mind and your new strength and save these people, Quinn. You are their only hope.”
“Right,” Quinn breathed.
“I’ll try to run interference and slow them down, but you have to go now,” Liliya said, giving her a gentle push. “Jet is as helpless as a toddler against immortals. He won’t survive without you.”
Liliya didn’t have to push her again; Quinn had started to move as soon as the last word left the small blonde’s mouth. It was the bit about his being as helpless as a toddler. It made her think of her son, Parker. He’d been eight when her husband had attacked them both. Quinn hadn’t been able to save him from his own father, something that had tortured her these last four years. Her confusion and dismay at finding her life altered so drastically after her husband had turned her into a vampire was bad, but it was nothing next to the guilt she suffered over not being able to protect her son.
Well, Jet—she still thought it was a stupid nickname—Lassiter was someone’s son, and Quinn didn’t need more guilt. She didn’t really believe she could save him against four crazed immortals. But if she didn’t try, she’d never forgive herself.

Jet was having some pretty unpleasant thoughts about immortals in general and one beautiful she-pire in particular when he heard someone coming up on him quickly. He’d been running flat out since leaving Quinn and the Russian women behind, but terror had him digging deep and finding an extra burst of speed. It didn’t make any difference, of course. He simply couldn’t outrun an immortal.
Not wanting to be run to ground like an impala taken down by a lion, he waited until he knew his pursuer was close enough that he was about to be overtaken, and then swung to confront his attacker. Jet recognized Quinn one heartbeat before she bent slightly and tackled him like a football player out to kill him.
At least that’s what it felt like when her shoulder slammed into his stomach and stole the breath from him. But when he was able to breathe again an agonized moment later, Jet found himself upended over her shoulder, his head hanging just below her ass and his hands dragging over the forest floor as it moved by below him at incredible speed.

What do you want people to take away from reading this book?

First and foremost, to have fun. Hopefully, the story will catch your attention enough to kick you out of any stress you may be feeling and maybe even make a connection with the characters, what they’re going through, and how much they’re able to pull off under highly stressful conditions.

What are you currently working on? What other releases do you have planned?

As for what I’m working on…

The last Highland Brides story I handed in is as yet untitled, but it’s about Laird Calan Campbell and Allissaid MacFarlane, a cousin to the Buchanans through her mother, and the second MacFarlane daughter to get a story.
The MacFarlanes, under threat from their neighbor Maldouen MacNaughton, are all told to stay within the keep’s walls for protection. But when her young brother slips out to go to the river, Allissaid rushes out after him to bring him back to safety. Instead, she’s captured by MacNaughton men. While still unconscious, Maldouen has a priest marry them, fortunately Allissaid escapes before the marriage can be consummated…
The Campbells have had nothing but grief from the MacNaughtons. They’ve been raiding Campbell land for years, and only a lack of proof has prevented Calan, the Campbell laird, from calling for all-out war against the neighboring clan. Instead, he finally decreed MacNaughtons unwelcome on Campbell land. Tresspassing would mean instant death, and so far that seemed to be working. So, he was more than a little amazed when one not only crossed onto his land, but stooped so low as to steal the clothes off his back. Calan actually saw the naked lad who ran up and made off with his kilt… Only the lad turns out to be a naked lass, Allissaid MacFarlane or possibly Allissaid MacNaughton. Whether she’s married or not is questionable. What’s not questionable is that Calan wants the lass for his own. He just has to deal with MacNaughton and this possible marriage to have her.

I just handed in the next Argeneau, book #34, called Immortal Rising. This one is about a character that many people have asked for. Yes, Stephanie McGill is finally getting a story! Danny’s little sister is all grown up. She has a career, her own home, a cat and a dog and plenty of support from her Argeneau family. The one thing she’s missing is a little romance, but who could possibly be a match for an immortal as unique as she is?

And I’m about to start writing the next Argeneau after that, but have no clue whom it will be about yet. At least not who the immortal will be. I do have the gal and situation in mind, and I’m considering Tybo for the hero. . . because our pup Tybo is the only one of our dogs whose named after a character that hasn’t had his own book yet, and we don’t want his brother and sisters teasing him about that, lol.

Thanks for blogging at HJ!

Giveaway: Two signed paperback editions of Mile High With A Vampire!

To enter Giveaway: Please complete the Rafflecopter form and Post a comment to this Q: If you were involved in a plane crash involving multiple gravely injured immortals and you were the only mortal within miles of forest, which character from the Argeneau series would you like to have at your side?

 
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Excerpt from Mile High With A Vampire:

“Why does Tybo have chains?” Quinn asked before he could.
“They are to ensure Jet does not hurt himself during the turn,” Marguerite said soothingly.
“Hurt himself? How could he hurt himself?” she asked weakly.
“They are just a precaution, dear,” Marguerite assured her.
Jet had no idea if Quinn was reassured, but he wasn’t. Still, he didn’t protest or fight when the men began to chain him to the bed spread-eagle. But watching Tybo chain one of his wrists down, he commented nervously, “I’ve been told this is pretty painful?”
“Oh, yeah, big-time. It’s agony. And the nightmares are apparently bad too. The whole process is just nasty,” Tybo assured him cheerfully as he worked. “But on the bright side, you might not remember any of it afterward.”
“I might not?” he asked with a frown.
“Some do. Some don’t,” he said with a shrug.
“Great,” Jet muttered. “With my luck I’ll remember everything.”
“Come on, man. Don’t say that,” Tybo chided. “You have to think positive.”
“All right,” Jet muttered. “Then I’m positive I’ll remember.”
Tybo shook his head and chuckled as he fastened the chains to the bed.

Quinn watched the men chaining Jet down to the bed with a small frown, unsure why it was necessary. She was also fretting about what she was expected to do. She knew she was supposed to turn him; he was her one turn. But she wasn’t sure how. Her gaze slid to the black bag Valerian had set on the bedside table and then she glanced at Marguerite and asked, “Should I be preparing the shot?”
“He won’t need a shot. The drugs are administered through the IV,” Marguerite explained. “Actually, it might be a good idea to insert the catheter into his vein now while he’s quiet. But leave actually hooking it up to the IV for now. The drug we use is too strong for a mortal and could kill him. Do not actually start infusing the fluid until he’s well into the turn.”
Quinn frowned, but nodded and moved to the black bag. As she expected she found needles, catheters, and tubing inside. She quickly gathered what she needed, settled the items on the bedside table, and then waited for Tybo to finish and get out of the way before going to work. It was a relatively quick procedure, but she was relieved when it was done and murmured, “Sorry,” for any pain she’d caused.
“Didn’t feel a thing,” Jet assured her.
Quinn smiled as she taped the catheter in place, but knew he was lying. She used to be pretty good at it, but surgeons didn’t usually perform the procedure, so she was out of practice. On top of that, she was anxious for him and her hand had trembled a bit. She was positive he was just being kind, and bent down to kiss the corner of his mouth for it.
“I’ll be right back,” she whispered as she straightened, and then stood and moved back to Marguerite and whispered, “You said he won’t need a shot?”
“No, dear, the saline bags are specially prepared. The drugs are already in it. You just hook him up once he’s in the turn, and then switch out the bags as they empty.”
“Oh, good, but I’m more concerned about how we get my blood from me to him? I assumed we’d draw blood from me and— No?” She stopped with a frown when Marguerite started to shake her head, and then asked, “Not how Patrick did it?”
When Marguerite nodded silently, she squawked, “What?”
“What what?” Jet asked nervously from the bed.
“Nothing, honey,” Quinn said quickly, and then flushed at using the automatic endearment, a little uncomfortable until she saw his surprised pleasure. Relaxing, she turned back to Marguerite and hissed, “That’s barbaric.”
“It’s the only way to do it,” Marguerite assured her, and quickly explained, “The job of the nanos is to heal and repair any damage their host incurs. To do that, they have to stay in the body, so avoid leaving it. You might get one or two nanos by withdrawing blood, but that isn’t enough to start a turn. Only catching them by surprise and incurring a large, fast wound can get enough out to turn him.”
“Well.” She scowled and shook her head. “Then I’ll slice my wrist open.”
“Not large enough. You have to bite hard, deep, and fast and tear the flesh away, then immediately put your wrist to his mouth to get enough nanos into him.”
“Oh God,” Quinn breathed, not sure she could do that.
“Yes, you can do it,” Marguerite said soothingly, obviously reading her mind. That or she was projecting.
“What’s happening?” she heard Jet ask behind her.
“Marguerite’s just explaining to Quinn what she has to do,” Valerian said soothingly.
“She didn’t know?”
“Apparently not,” Valerian answered, and then asked, “You did?”
“A couple of immortals have mentioned the procedure to me. At least that part and the why of it. No one mentioned being chained down, though.”
“You can do this,” Marguerite repeated, rubbing her shoulder.
“Time’s a-wasting, people,” Lucian growled. “Let’s get to it.”
“How bad is this going to hurt?” Quinn asked with a frown. Maybe the nanos would ease the pain of it for her. She hoped. She was not a big fan of pain. In fact, if she were to be honest, she’d have to say she was a big wussy when it came to pain.
“It will hurt some. But it’s only a moment.”
“A moment?” she asked.
Marguerite nodded, and then urged her to the bedside. “Now. Remember, bite deep and then press the wound quickly to his mouth,” she told her as Quinn sat on the side of the bed. Turning to Jet, she added, “Open your mouth and be ready, Jet, and the second she presses her wrist to your mouth, start sucking.”
“Suck on her wound?” he asked with a grimace.
“It will help get more nanos before they stop the bleeding,” she explained, and then added, “If you do not get enough the first time, she will have to make a second wound.”
“Suck hard,” Quinn growled, because she was not doing this twice.
“Right,” he sighed, and muttered, “Suck,” to himself as if he might forget the instruction when it was the only thing he had to do.
“Okay.” Marguerite turned to her and offered an encouraging smile. “Go on. Remember to bite deep, tear away fast, then press it over his mouth. You do not want to have to wound yourself twice.”
Sighing, Quinn nodded and raised her wrist to her mouth. Telling herself it was like tearing off a bandage—“a little ouchy, and done” as she used to tell Parker—she then let her fangs slide down and just did it. She ripped into her wrist so deeply her fangs scraped bone, and then she snapped her mouth shut and jerked her head away, tearing out a large chunk of skin and meat with it, which she immediately spat out on a howl as the pain hit her brain. Quinn was so shocked at the extent of it and what she’d done that she didn’t then slap her wrist to Jet’s mouth but grabbed it with her other hand and howled like a baby. Fortunately, Marguerite then tore her hand away and shoved the gushing wrist over Jet’s mouth.
“Suck,” she barked at Jet, and Quinn’s eyes opened on another howl as he did. God, it hurt! Every nerve in her wrist was screaming, and the pain was making her stomach roil violently. Afraid she was going to vomit on him, she snapped her mouth closed, cutting off her own howling, and turned her head away from him. She then squeezed her eyes tightly closed and clenched her teeth as he sucked, and sucked and sucked.
Quinn sagged with relief when he stopped and pulled his mouth away to mutter, “No more blood is coming out.”
Not having him suck on the wound lessened the pain. Not by much, but enough she hoped she wouldn’t vomit, after all, as she instinctively covered her injured wrist with her other hand again.
“Was it enough?” Jet asked with concern, and she heard the chains clank as if he was trying to reach for her. “She doesn’t have to do that again, does she?”
“I am not sure,” Marguerite admitted on a sigh, and when Quinn blinked her eyes open and turned on her with horror, she pointed out, “You did not place it over his mouth right away.”
“Gee, I’m sorry. This was my first time,” she muttered sarcastically, and then scowled at her. “And you said it would only hurt for a moment, but it’s been longer than that and still hurts like a son of a bitch.”
“I was not being literal,” Marguerite explained. “I meant it would just be a moment out of your life, a memory once done.”
“Well, next time be literal,” Quinn growled, closing her hand tighter around her wound in the hopes of easing the pain a bit. It didn’t help.
A bag of blood appeared before her mouth, and Quinn glanced up to see Sam smiling at her sympathetically.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking the blood, but rather than pop it to her fangs, she finally turned to look at Jet. He was watching her with concern, and she managed a smile for him, but then frowned as she realized he looked normal. As she recalled, she’d dropped to the floor and started to convulse almost the moment Patrick had finished forcing his blood on her and released her. But Jet was just watching her with concern, looking perfectly normal except for the blood around his mouth and on his chin.
“How do you feel? Does anything seem different?” she asked worriedly. God, she so didn’t want to have to do that again.
He shook his head apologetically. “I thought I got a lot of blood. It seemed like a lot,” he added with a grimace. “But nothing is—”
Quinn jerked in surprise when he suddenly went stiff as a board, his back arching so hard and so high that only his head and feet touched the mattress. She stared wide-eyed as he stayed like that for a moment and then he began convulsing and thrashing, and he crashed into her, sending her flying off the bed. She landed on the floor next to it with a thud, and then swung her head around to look at Jet, but she couldn’t see him past the people suddenly surrounding the bed, trying to hold him down as if the chains wouldn’t be enough on their own.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
 

Book Info:

In the latest Argeneau novel from New York Times bestselling author Lynsay Sands, an immortal and her mortal pilot are on the run from hungry vampires…and discover they’re life mates along the way.

Quinn Peters never wanted to be immortal. Once a renowned heart surgeon, she was turned against her will and now she has to drink blood to survive. Before she can ask how her “life” can get any worse, she’s in a plane crash. One of the few survivors, Quinn is desperate to get the mortal pilot to safety before her fellow immortals succumb to their blood lust and drain Jet dry.

But hungry vampires are the least of their worries—the crash wasn’t an accident, and someone is trying to kill Quinn. Will she and Jet find their happily ever after as life mates, or will her assassin find her first?

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Meet the Author:

My name is Lynsay Sands and I’m the author of the Argeneau series and many hysterical historicals (as my readers tend to call them). I have written sixty books and twelve anthologies, which probably tells you I really enjoy writing. I consider myself very lucky to have been able to make a career out of it.
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