Yee-Haw,
dear readers! Agent Z. here, wearing a brand new pair of cowboy boots I
pilfered from Heather Massey’s storage locker aboard The Galaxy Express. ‘Ole
Heather is chained up down in the engine room, pretending like she knows how to
fix the hyperdrive and that twerp, Diane Dooley, who keeps claiming I am a figment of her imagination, is
tearing chunks of hair out of her scalp while she attempts to write another one
of her cruddy books. All your Galaxy Express are belong to us! Chef has rustled
up a vat of Pan
Galactic Gargle Blasters for us
to guzzle and I’ll tell you right now that any non-inebriated comments will be
summarily made fun of. Now, drink up!
I have
today as my guest, the author Cathy Pegau. I’m afraid she has helped herself rather liberally to the
Gargle Blasters, so please forgive her inappropriate behavior. If you can! And
please note that it was not I who tied her to the chair. She did that all by
herself. She is one talented lady.
Agent
Z: Now, Cathy. I abducted, er, I mean
invited, you here from Alaska today because after following your tweetstream for a lengthy period I’ve decided that you are far too
fabulous to spend so much time shoveling snow off your roof, driving your kids
around, and slaving over enormous feasts of fresh Alaskan salmon. I’ve always
wanted a female traveling companion for my intergalactic adventures and you, my
dear, are The Chosen One. But you can’t conquer the galaxy in flannel and
denim. Tell us about the fabulous outfit and hairstyle you shall adopt before
we embark on our travels.
Pegau: Oh, my head….Wait. What? I get out of shoveling??? Sweet!
Thanks for taking me along (Hey, why are there rope burns on my wrists?
*shrug*). Underneath the flannel and denim we Alaskan gals are very much in
touch with our femininity, but we’re also practical. So excuse me while I don a
one-piece black flight suit (not too snug, but not too loose) with a few cargo
pocket on legs and sleeves (need pockets to carry things but keep hands free)
and a zipper lowered to…mmmmm…..there to show off a lace camisole. Hair is
short and spiked. Oh, and silver earrings. I dig black and silver. Very
“spacey.”
Agent
Z: You look fabulous, dahlink! Now the
galaxy is our oyster. Where would you like to go first and why?
Pegau: There’s a planet in my ‘Verse called Pacifica. Mostly ocean and lavender sand beaches. Clothing is
optional. In fact, it’s discouraged in many places.
Agent
Z: Why, you little trollop! I knew I chose
the right companion. Next: there is bound to be the odd occasion when we find
ourselves in competition for a juicy piece of space ass. Which science fiction
hero are you most likely to thumb wrestle me to the death for? And, because I
know you write female/female sci fi romance, which heroine are you most likely
to don a space bikini for? And which heroine do you think I’d be
most compatible with?
Pegau: I am a huge fan of Firefly, so my sights are on
Captain Mal “Tightpants” Reynolds. You will not win this one, Z.
I’m not
keen on bikinis (the get-up poor Princess Leia wore always comes to mind when I
think “space bikini” *shudder*), but the gal I’d be happy to strip one off for?
Hmmm. There are so many. Honor Harrington from David Weber’s series is tough yet
vulnerable. The combination gets me every time. For you, I would think Laisen
Carros/Cheloi Sie from K.S. Augustin’s War Games could keep you in
line. ; )
Agent
Z: Oh my! Laisen/Cheloi and I would make a
fabulous couple. One of us would die quite soon, of course, but it would be fun
while it lasted. Cathy, I can hardly wait for our adventures to begin. There
shall, of course, be some down time while we travel the vast distances of the
universe. Which five books are you going to bring with you?
Pegau: Only five? You don’t make it easy on a girl, do you? Packing
for Mars, by Mary Roach—to see if she covered everything. Anna Karenina—because
it’s long and I’ve never read it. The Odyssey—seems fitting. Anything by
Neil deGrasse Tyson—he makes science fun and I can read him over and over
again. How to Win Friends and Influence People, by Dale Carnegie—in case
we run into diplomatic troubles. Let’s see if he translates across the
universe.
Agent
Z: Cool choices! You’re gonna share them,
right? Of course you will. We’re besties already. So, tell me: I know from
experience that good traveling companions need to be honest with each other,
and be prepared to rescue each other, too. Which sci fi villains will you be
able to defeat in hand-to-hand combat? And which of them will have you firing
up the escape pod?
Pegau: Wait a second. Hand-to-hand combat? No one said anything
about that. Can’t I just shoot them with my pulser? Okay, fine. I think I can
handle Jabba the Hutt. If all his minions are off on a coffee break.
Who would
send me running? Reavers, from Firefly/Serenity. Those dudes freak me
out.
 |
| "You rang?!" |
Agent
Z: *gasp* Don’t say the ‘R’ word, Cathy.
That’s the first rule of space club. Now, although you’ll never be able to see
your home, friends and family again, I will allow you to bring one item of
sentimental value with you. No need to thank me. What’s it gonna be?
Pegau: I wear a necklace with four birthstones on the branches
of a tree representing my kids, my husband and myself. As long as I have that,
and maybe a picture of them, I’d be okay. *sniff* Maybe. *sniff sniff*
Agent
Z: Aw, what a sweetie you are. Please stop
crying, though. I want you to be happy. On that note, tell me what makes you
laugh, so that I can arrange for you to be thoroughly entertained.
Pegau: I love a good sarcastic zinger, as well as dry humor.
Give me a Rowan Atkinson-type comedy or smart, fun dialogue, and I’m yours.
Agent
Z: It shall be done! *loads Rowan Atkinson
into the hold* I know, I am so kind and generous.
Now on to
the important part: my entertainment. Ever since reading Rulebreaker I’ve been patiently waiting for a new book from you.
What have you been writing? How much longer must I wait? Details, now!
Pegau: The second book set on Nevarro, the same planet as Rulebreaker, comes
out in January from Carina Press. Caught in Amber has Nathan
Sterling (the sheriff/agent from Rulebreaker) recruiting former drug
addict Sasha James to help him save his sister from Sasha’s ex-lover who is a
big-time drug dealer. Sasha’s not interested in going anywhere near her ex or
the drugs he distributes, but Sterling makes her an offer she can’t refuse. Can Sasha resist the
lure of the drug, or will she be caught in amber once again?
Deep
Deception also comes out in 2013,
though I don’t have a date yet, and is the final (probably) one set on Nevarro.
It stars two of the secondary characters from the first two books, Agent
Natalia Hallowell and bad girl Genevieve Caine. They go undercover at a mining
site to find damaging evidence against some folks. Why are they working
together? What secrets are they keeping from each other?
Agent
Z: Excellent! After that I want you to
write this story I have an idea for. I’ll let you keep 10% of the royalties.
‘Cos I like you. It’s about an intergalactic spy called Agent, erm, X. She’s
gorgeous, adventurous, sweet, generous and kind, and is on a search for twu
wuv. Give me the blurb for the story right now and I’ll grant you your hearts
desire. I promise. Heh, heh.
Pegau: After making a narrow escape from the enemy planet, super
secret documents in hand, Agent…X, did you say?...Agent X has to make an
emergency landing on a distant planet. Her craft is damaged and Z X is
hurt. She is nursed back to health by one of the natives, a broad-shouldered,
kilt-clad shaman. X doesn’t understand the hunk (her translator is ka-put) so
she dubs him “Biff.” The two work out a rudimentary understanding of each other
and discover a common language: love. Together, they must get X’s ship back in
flying shape so she can deliver her documents. But that would mean leaving Biff
behind…
 |
| "Eat your heart out, Fabio." |
Agent
Z: I like it! Biff sounds dreamy. And I,
um, I mean Agent Z. gets to have lots of sex and adventures and sex and stuff,
right? So, what are you waiting for? Get to work, woman!
While
Cathy gets to writing that awesome story I’d like to announce a giveaway. To
enter please have a couple of Gargle Blasters and, if you are still able to
type, leave a comment about...well anything, really *grin*. The prize? Your
very own Cathy Pegau! That’s right! I’m giving away a science fiction romance
author for you to call your very own for twenty four hours! After that she’s
mine again. Cathy also comes wearing one of three outfits: flannel and denim,
carrying a shovel, black and silver leather jump suit, carrying a laser gun, or
chain mail space bikini, carrying a bottle of massage oil. Which one would you
prefer?
Let the
comments begin!
Several moments later…
The door of the main lounge slides open. Heather steps in,
dressed in a Betty Boop welding helmet, black overalls, and work boots. With Vader-like breaths, her head
swivels from left to right and then back again. Something is amiss.
She slides the helmet up over her forehead.
Frowning, she eyes the now-empty vat of Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters. Abandoned
drinking glasses litter nearly every flat surface. Silky unmentionables of
every conceivable color are draped willy-nilly across chairs, on light
fixtures, and even upon half-eaten plates of food.
Agent Z, sprawled across a red velvet divan, raises a hand
and flaps it around. “Hiya, pal!” she slurs. She promptly falls unconscious,
belting out snores like a giant russet bear from Manitika 7.
After giving Agent Z the stink eye, Heather drags the spy’s
limp yet-oh-so-svelte form back to her ship. Heather props her on the captain’s
chair, sets a course for the ice planet Freezaria, and remote launches Z’s ship
from the bridge of The
Galaxy Express.
Now that our resident wild child has left the building,
allow me to tell you about the *real* giveaway! Leave a comment (bonus points
awarded if you answer Agent Z’s question) and you’ll be entered for a chance to
win a signed, print copy of Cathy Pegau’s RULEBREAKER.
The contest is international, and the deadline to enter is midnight EST on Tuesday, August 28, 2012 (winner will be picked at random
and announced on the following day).
Joyfully yours,
Heather