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When Tina Pollick isn’t writing paranormal romance about Heavenly hunks, and smart,
sassy women, this RN enjoys a quiet home life with her husband, children, two
horses, two dogs, cat, chickens, guineas, well sort of quiet.
Tina has just finished her first Urban Fantasy novel, GABRIEL, A Kematian Hunter
Series and is working on the first book of another Urban Fantasy series, SOUL  BROKER.

Here is her interview:

Tell us about something that has just happened or is about to happen in your life that you would like to share.
  We just bought a farm house we’re renovating. It has a lot of land so we’ll have more animals. Not sure if that’s a good thing or not yet. 

What is the name of your most recent book and if you had to sum it up in 30 or less words, what would you say?
 “GABRIEL”- Thirty words, wow. Okay here goes:
When demons sunder ancient bonds, a love-match between a valiant archangel and a selfless nurse brings humanity's
last hope -- but demon-taint may destroy them both.


Do you have plans for a new book? Is this book part of a series?
 Yes. I’m working on RAPHAEL now
  
Is there an Author that you would really like to meet?
 Yes, Nadine Christian. She lives on Pitcairn Island and I really want to go there.
  
Do you prefer ebooks, paperbacks or hardcover?
 Paperback. They’re just the right size.

 Where do you prefer to buy your books?
 Local stores, but sometimes I buy from Amazon.

Who designed the cover of your book?
 Sour Cherry Designs. They did an amazing job.

 Do you have any advice for other writers? 
  If you love to write then write. Don’t listen to anyone else.
 
Do you write under a pen name?
 No. I was going to, but my family has sacrificed a lot so I can write. The very least I can do is display my husbands name with
pride.

What date were you born? 
  December 31, 1973

Do you have a nickname? 
  Does mom count?

Do you ever write in your PJ’s?
 Yes, I do. I’m trying to get in the habit of getting dressed and getting ready as if I were going to any job. Some days I’m better at it then others.

D
o you like to cook? Do you have a favorite food?
 I cook everyday. I really like to bake. I make the best homemade brownies. My favorite food is Chinese. I love Kung Pao Chicken from Panda Express. We don’t have any around us, so I can only eat it when we go home to visit. That’s probably a good thing.

What do you normally eat for breakfast, or do you skip it and get straight to work?
 During the week, I eat cereal. On the weekends my husband usually makes breakfast. Bacon and eggs. I love the weekends.

Where is one place in the world that you would really love to visit someday? 
  Pitcairn Island.

Is your book in Print, ebook or both?
 It’ll be in ebook first. If it makes so many sales, it’ll go into print. 
 

Where can your book be purchased?
  http://www.evernightpublishing.com/gabriel-by-tina-pollick/
 http://www.amazon.com/Gabriel-Kematian-Hunter-ebook/dp/B00B4JYSMC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1358947174&sr=8-1&keywords=Gabriel+Tina+Pollick

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Find Tina on:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tinapollickauthor?ref=hl
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/tinapollick
Or visit her website: http://tinapollick.com/







And now an excerpt from her new release, Gabriel, available today:

“Are you kidding me? You weigh maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. What do you think you’re doing walking alone at night?” She noticed Eric looking down at all five feet three inches of her, scowling. “Let me give you a ride home.”

Eric’s radio went off. “Shit. I have to go, Calla, another attack. Call a cab, please.”

“Yeah, sure.”
He hurried away. Calla walked in the opposite direction, towards her house. She took this path three to four days a week on her way home from work. There wasn’t any way she was going to call a cab. 

She heard footsteps closing in behind her. Alarmed, she wrapped her hand around the can of mace in her pocket and picked up her pace. 
 
The footsteps were gone. Had she imagined them? Calla turned her head to look but she was alone. “Get it together, chicken. You’re scaring yourself now.” 

She rounded the corner nearing an alley. A trickle of red blood flowed from it, creeping onto the sidewalk. Calla stopped in front of a pathway as uneasiness washed over her. Fear and ethics battled within her. Ethics won, but her legs felt like lead, and they weren’t moving. She forced herself to take a few steps and spotted a mound lying next to the wall. 
 
After several tense seconds, she tightened her grip on the can of mace and slowly made her way towards the heap on the ground.

This is exactly how all the stupid girls are killed in the movies. They go walking right into danger, and boom, they’re
dead.

Approaching the mound, she trembled. As she moved closer she saw a tanned foot sticking out from the trench coat. Calla bent down, her chest heaving, hands shaking as she reached the foot and gave it a quick shake, but nothing happened. Relax, before you hyperventilate and end up on the ground, too. Breathe, Calla, breathe.

She stood, crept forward, and reached for what she hoped was the head. She knelt down and pulled back the thick trench coat. His head turned to the side, face badly beaten, eyes cracked to reveal a glimmer of the brightest green she had
ever seen. 

“Holy shit!” She jumped back, startled.

The man didn’t move. She bent down again this time reaching for his neck. The pulse was weak. She had already used her gifts twice this evening, and her body still ached from the two previous failures. “Focus. You can do this.” She struggled to turn the man onto his back. When she finally rolled him over there was a knife, with a green hue as if the metal was oxidized, protruding out of his chest.

 “Of course there’s a knife,” Calla murmured to herself. 

“I’m going to try to help you,” she whispered in his ear. She knew she might not be able to save him, but she had to try. If she could pull the knife out in a quick motion she could heal him. She placed her hands around the hilt of the knife and
pulled. Nothing happened. “Maybe if I get some leverage.” 
 
Calla straddled the man, planting one tennis shoe on each side of his limp body. She bent down and wrapped both hands around the hilt and pulled with everything she had. The knife began to move—barely—but it was moving. It felt like pulling a rubber boot stuck in thick mud. After a few more attempts the suction released, and the knife was freed.

She collapsed on his chest and sat up, placing both palms on the bleeding wound. “Please, oh please let this work.”Calla focused on the wound, gathering energy. Then her hands began to glow. Sweat dripped matting blonde hair to her forehead, and her vision began to dim.“I won’t let you die,” she promised.

Then darkness embraced her.
1/23/2013 00:02:55

Thank you for hosting me. Great interview. :)

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