Reintroducing Myself…

160425-news-castleFor the unfamiliar, this is Detective Kate Beckett from the TV show Castle. I discovered the show — and her — about five or six years ago, and she’s the big reason why Bounty finally got written and published back in June 2015.

Readers have noted that Jill and Kate are very similar — and that’s not an accident. Kate Beckett inspired a lot of what Jill became (and there were a lot of similarities that were already there). The murder mystery element rounded out the narrative, but it was Beckett who, in a roundabout way, gave Jill the missing element she needed. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an episode of Castle (the show did not end on good terms), and I find myself struggling with the fifth book in my series.

So why not remind myself of what made these books — and Jill — work in the first place? Why not reacquaint myself with the perfect blend of badass and compassionate that made Kate Beckett the great character she was?

Beckett’s strength never came at the expense of her femininity or her personality — if anything, all of those facets enhanced and strengthened each other, and that was what I hoped to infuse in Jill through my writing.

And while Castle was very much about the growth of Beckett’s relationship with Castle, she was always very much her own person, her own character. When the show was at its best, she never lost who she was in service of the plot (we’ll ignore season 8…).

So I need to reintroduce myself to Detective Katherine Houghton Beckett, NYPD Homicide. I need to remind myself of the things that made the Jill Andersen books such a joy to write in the first place — and maybe I can finally finish Betrayed.

But it’s good to know where inspiration has struck. Jill Andersen did not start with Kate Beckett, but the latter wound up doing a good bit to shape who the former is. And maybe reminding myself of that will help get me out of this creative funk I’m in.

Besides, Kate Beckett once pistol-whipped a United States Senator and walked out while he cradled his bleeding head and ran away. How badass is that?!

(I mean, yes, he was a very, very bad man. But still!)

Jill Andersen Book Tour!

The month of August is an exciting one, as I’ve booked a book tour through Silver Dagger Book Tours! For the next 30 days (give or take — math’s not exactly my strength), blogs throughout this (sometimes) wonderful thing we call the Internet will extol the virtues of the Jill Andersen series. Along the way, you’ll also see guest posts from yours truly, and there will even be a giveaway!

Click here for the tour schedule, and be sure to share everything on your social media.

Boundless
Jill Andersen Mysteries Prequel
by J.D. Cunegan
Genre: SciFi Superhero Mystery
A little more than two years before the events of Bounty, Jill Andersen
makes a life-altering decision. But this decision comes with
consequences she didn’t foresee, and her first night as the
vigilante Bounty winds up being something for which she was wholly
unprepared.
A crisis of faith eventually gives way to certainty: both in terms of
discovering who killed a young man named Johnny Ruiz and in terms of
coping with the latest change in her own life.
Along the way, Jill defies death and discovers just how deep the city’s
corruption runs. But will she survive the experience long enough to
decide if a life of vigilantism is for her?
**only 99 cents!!**
Bounty
Jill Andersen Mysteries Book 1
Jill Andersen is one of Baltimore’s best and brightest detectives, but she
harbors a dark secret — a secret that threatens to come out when the
body of Dr. Trent Roberts is pulled out of the Chesapeake Bay. Dr.
Roberts’ connection to Jill reveals a past that involves a tour in
Iraq, a secretive cybernetic experiment, and a conspiracy that
involves a native son.
Can Jill solve the case while still keeping her secret? Will her partners
at the Seventh Precinct find out what she’s so desperate to hide?
What was Dr. Roberts looking into that led to his murder? And perhaps
the biggest question of all…
Who is Bounty?
Blood Ties
Jill Andersen Mysteries Book 2
For as long as Jill Andersen could remember, her father was a hero.
But heroes don’t commit murder, do they? The state of Maryland said
Paul Andersen did just that, three times over, and was set to execute
him for it. But Jill and the rest of her colleagues at the Baltimore
Police Department come across the murder of a law student that leaves
her hopeful that she can clear her father’s name.
While Jill and her colleagues work against the clock to clear her father’s
name, new players emerge, hinting to a deeper, darker conspiracy than
what was previously known. An enigmatic faction known as The Order
reveals itself, and the mystery surrounding Paul’s alleged
duplicity leaves more questions than answers.
Along the way, Jill must not only face the possibility that her father was
not who she thought he was, but she must also face the prospect of
her secret being revealed. The stakes are higher than ever in Blood
Ties, the intense follow-up to J.D. Cunegan’s debut mystery Bounty.
Can Jill save her father before it’s too late? Will she even want to?
Behind the Badge
Jill Andersen Mysteries Book 3
For Jill Andersen, being part of the Baltimore Police Department has
always been both a tremendous honor and a serious responsibility. Her
father, before his fall from grace, had instilled in her a great
respect for police and the work they do day-to-day. But when a
teenage boy winds up dead on the outskirts of downtown Baltimore,
Jill finds herself once again faced with those who would abuse their
badges to fulfill personal agendas and uphold biases.
Jill still has a job to do, but she soon finds that not everyone is in her
corner. For the first time in almost four years working Homicide,
Jill finds herself at odds with people who claim to be on her side.
From other cops to suits downtown all the way to the Mayor’s
office, it becomes increasingly clear that Jill will need to rely on
more than just her badge if she’s to solve this case.
But even if she finds justice, what’s the price?
Behind the Badge, the gripping, hard-hitting third novel in the Jill
Andersen series (Bounty, Blood Ties), gives readers another taste of
author J.D. Cunegan’s comic book-inspired brand of fast-paced
prose, with chapters that fly by and plot twists that will leave
readers constantly guessing and waiting for more.
Behind the Mask
Jill Andersen Mysteries Book 4
It’s hard to be a hero when everyone’s out to get you.
Once upon a time, Jill Andersen considered herself a hero. Not just
because of the badge handed to her by the city of Baltimore and the
pledge she once made to protect and serve. Her secret life, as the
vigilante Bounty, had allowed Jill to protect her native Baltimore in
ways her day job never could.
But all that has gone to hell now. One case pushed Jill past her limits,
to the point where she made choices she can’t take back. As a
result, the entire city is on the lookout for her. Allies can no
longer be counted on. People who were once in her corner might very
well be trying to bring her down… to say nothing of those she has
crossed along the way.
But that is the least of Jill’s problems. A shadowy figure emerges
among the chaos, and his link to Jill’s past has the potential to
be her ultimate undoing. Jill thought every link to Project Fusion
has been settled once she solved Dr. Trent Roberts’ murder almost
one year ago, but if she’s not careful, her past might just kill her.
Behind the Mask, the gripping, hard-hitting fourth novel in the Jill
Andersen mystery series (Bounty, Blood Ties, Behind the Badge), gives
readers yet another taste of author J.D. Cunegan’s comic
book-inspired brand of fast-paced prose, with chapters that fly by
and plot twists that will leave readers guessing and waiting for more.
J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder
mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic
book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of
Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in
journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love
for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books,
his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of
a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be
found at a race track or watching a race on TV.
Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!

 

RELEASE DAY: Behind the Mask

TODAY IS THE DAY!

Behind the Mask

Behind the Mask, the fourth installment in the Jill Andersen series, is now out! This entry promises to change everything going forward, and after the events of Behind the Badge, things are about to get even more intense.

About Behind the Mask

It’s hard to be a hero when everyone’s out to get you.

Once upon a time, Jill Andersen considered herself a hero. Not just because of the badge handed to her by the city of Baltimore and the pledge she once made to protect and serve. Her secret life, as the vigilante Bounty, had allowed Jill to protect her native Baltimore in ways her day job never could.

But all that has gone to hell now. One case pushed Jill past her limits, to the point where she made choices she can’t take back. As a result, the entire city is on the lookout for her. Allies can no longer be counted on. People who were once in her corner might very well be trying to bring her down… to say nothing of those she has crossed along the way.

But that is the least of Jill’s problems. A shadowy figure emerges among the chaos, and his link to Jill’s past has the potential to be her ultimate undoing. Jill thought every link to Project Fusion has been settled once she solved Dr. Trent Roberts’ murder almost one year ago, but if she’s not careful, her past might just kill her.

Behind the Mask, the gripping, hard-hitting fourth novel in the Jill Andersen mystery series (Bounty, Blood Ties, Behind the Badge), gives readers yet another taste of author J.D. Cunegan’s comic book-inspired brand of fast-paced prose, with chapters that fly by and plot twists that will leave readers guessing and waiting for more.

About J.D. Cunegan

J.D. Cunegan is known for his unique writing style, a mixture of murder mystery and superhero epic that introduces the reader to his comic book-inspired storytelling and fast-paced prose. A 2006 graduate of Old Dominion University, Cunegan has an extensive background in journalism, a lengthy career in media relations, and a lifelong love for writing. Cunegan lives in Hampton, Virginia, and next to books, his big passion in life in auto racing. When not hunched in front of a keyboard or with his nose stuck in a book, Cunegan can probably be found at a race track or watching a race on TV.

Pick up Behind the Mask today in the following formats: Paperback | Kindle | Nook | Kobo | Apple iBooks | Indigo | Angus & Robertson

Check out the rest of the Jill Andersen Series.

EXCERPT: Behind the Mask

Here’s another excerpt from Behind the Mask, the upcoming fourth book in the Jill Behind the MaskAndersen series! Please note that this is not the final version of this scene; any mistakes are my own. Also, I tried not to post something too spoiler-y, but there might be spoilers with regards to the first three books in the series.

Enjoy!

As soon as Jill opened her eyes, her head began to throb. Turning her head ever so slightly, she cringed at the stabbing pain at the base of her skull. Blinking the stars out of her eyes, Jill slowly pushed herself onto her elbow and frowned at her surroundings. She was in an abandoned warehouse, but it wasn’t the one she had been hiding out in; that one boasted the faint aroma of rat feces, while this one had a decidedly fishier smell. Her guess? She was somewhere close to the Inner Harbor, but tucked away in an alley deep enough that no one would come poking around in search of her.

Of greater concern was the man crouched down next to her. His mask was in a heap on the floor, and Jill found herself face-to-face with a man who, facial scar aside, looked as far from intimidating as anyone could. His skin was smooth, which told her this man was likely barely out of his teens. His eyes, a striking blue that pierced through the relative darkness, held a mirth that sent a chill down Jill’s spine.

But that scar… the stories it could tell…

“Oh, good.” The man’s voice was chipper, the slight hint of a Russian accent buried within it. “I was hoping you would wake up soon.”

Jill almost asked where she was, before clamping her mouth shut at the realization of how stupid that question would sound. Though this was her first time seeing the man’s face, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was the other vigilante. His black bodysuit alone, outfitted with the finest Kevlar she could never afford, gave away that much.

“Why am I not dead yet?” she asked, cringing when her voice threatened to give out.

“Why would I want you dead?”

This man had to be joking… and yet, the quirked brow and the slight frown told Jill otherwise. She forced herself into a sitting position, rubbing a hand along the back of her neck. “Well, you work for David Gregor. It’s a pretty easy assumption to make.”

“The old man is a means to an end,” the man answered with a one-shoulder shrug. “I am Piotr.”

Was the pain in her head causing Jill to imagine things? Had the man who had hit her upside the head with a pipe and knocked her unconscious just introduced himself to her? She frowned in a combination of pain and confusion, resisting the urge to shake her head until the throbbing subsided. She caught sight of her katana out of the corner of her eye; the weapon was propped up against the far wall, still buried in its leather sheath.

It was hopelessly out of her reach. It was also not tucked into its usual hiding place like it was supposed to be.

“What do you want?” It was pretty much the only thing she could think of to say. Nothing else seemed appropriate.

“You and I have a lot in common,” Piotr answered.

That much was true, at least on the surface. He was a black-clad vigilante, much like Jill… but she drew the line at killing people, while this man apparently had no such qualms. He had dispatched of four disgraced police officers in a public display that was as brazen as it was sudden, and she had seen him slit another man’s throat two nights ago with such ease that she wondered how many times he had done that before. Honestly, she was surprised he hadn’t yet pulled that trick on her… even as her hand went up to her neck.

“If you count fashion choices, sure,” she said.

Piotr’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “What do you know of Project Fusion?”

Jill’s heart skipped a beat, and she had to will herself into keeping a neutral expression. She felt the pit open up in the bottom of her stomach, and her hands tightened into fists for no other reason than to hide how much her hands had started to shake. She opened her mouth, but whatever words she was planning to say got stuck in the back of her throat. Instead, she shook her head and stared at her captor.

It made sense, if only in hindsight. She had seen the video footage of the van careening into the bay, the way Piotr had leaped from the speeding vehicle and rolled his way back to his feet without so much as a scratch. The way he had moved the first time they fought, his allegiance to Gregor and his fascination with her. Jill could try to deny this all she wanted, but the fact was that Project Fusion was the only connection that made sense.

Ramon’s theory held water after all.

But still…

“I know it tanked years ago,” she said with far less conviction than she had hoped.

“No.” The ghost of a smile played on Piotr’s lips. “It did not.”

Behind the Mask is currently set for a Dec. 4 release in paperback and ebook. Catch up by picking up your copy of Bounty today — or you can pick up The Bounty Trilogy — exclusively on Kindle — to read all three books in one go.

EXCERPT: Bounty

I know what you’re thinking… an excerpt from an already-published book? Well, with Bounty having recently been re-launched, with a new cover and a wider digital distribution, now seemed as good a time as any to let readers sample the first chapter. Enjoy!

A storm was brewing.Bounty Final

The Inner Harbor, usually the most peaceful spot in all of Charm City, was in turmoil. Waves violently splashed against the pier, angry winds tearing through the sails of the boats latched to the dock. Seagulls cawed in protest, every attempt to fly thwarted by the gusts. White caps thrashed onto dry land, staining the pier. Tourists and locals alike had made themselves scarce; even the seafood cathedral Phillips, one of Baltimore’s most popular spots, was relatively barren. Clouds roiled and built in the sky, turning the already-dark hue a particularly gnarly mix of black and purple.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The air was thick with the smell of pending rain. To the trained nose, something else was in the air. Something dank. On the rare occasion the wind dissipated, the stench was unmistakable. A young detective was on his knees, hunched over the edge of the pier, that night’s dinner spilling out of his mouth and into the bay. Everyone else already on-scene ignored the man’s retching as uniformed officers canvassed the area, roping it off and shooing away the occasional passersby. A crane whirred to life, scaring off three seagulls as it lifted something out of the water.

Jill Andersen approached the man still hunched over the edge of the pier, placing a hand on his shoulder as he continued to cough and hack. Her green eyes studied the crane, narrowing upon catching sight of a dead body in the machine’s clutches, mangled and twisted, dried blood mixing with the salt water. She then caught her first whiff of the stench, silently glad for the fact that she’d already put in three years on the force. If nothing else, it had allowed Jill to build a tolerance to the gore. Her partner wasn’t that lucky yet.

“You okay, Ramon?”

The young man named Gutierrez looked up, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his tan overcoat. “Yeah.” He cringed and stood upright, still looking a bit pale. “Still takes some getting used to.”

“You will.” Jill gave Ramon’s shoulder a squeeze before crossing to the other end of the pier, ducking under the yellow crime scene tape and flashing the gold badge on her belt. Letting the uniformed officer see her badge number, Jill stopped to push a strand of brown hair out of her face. She put her hair back into a ponytail to avoid having it blown in her face like this, but the winds were so strong that anything short of shaving herself bald would prove futile.

It was like this every time she got to a crime scene. Everyone going about their jobs, as if this was just another day at the office – because for them, it was. But Jill always made sure to take a moment, no more than a few seconds, to remind herself that the victim was someone. At the end of the day, whoever’s mangled corpse was in that crane was a person. Someone’s family, someone’s loved one. More than anything, that was what mattered. Those left behind didn’t care about procedure or protocol; they wanted answers, and more importantly, they deserved justice. Too many times in this profession, victims were viewed in the abstract; it was easy to forget they were people with loved ones and dreams. Jill swore the day she made Detective that she would never lose sight of that.

“I swear to God, Sorenson, if you make a fishing joke, I’m throwing you overboard.”

The stocky officer’s smile was humorless. “Vic’s name is Trent Roberts. 49 years old.”

Jill frowned, hands stuffed in the pockets of her black leather jacket. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the body being lowered onto a white sheet splayed out on the concrete. The stench was far more pronounced now, and the sheet immediately turned red from the blood still oozing from Trent’s neck. Her eyes focused on his face, eyes wide and mouth agape. It looked as if the attack had taken him by surprise.

She tried her best to keep the dread off of her face, silently thankful for the acting elective she took that one semester her senior year of high school. She knew the victim. More than that, the victim was largely responsible for who she had become. Not that she could mention that, lest the captain remove her from this case. But if Jill was being honest with herself, stealing a glance at the raging waters, she knew it was only a matter of time. Trent Roberts winding up dead in her city wasn’t a coincidence.

“How do we already have ID?” Jill asked.

A black man joined Jill and Sorenson, red tie loose around his neck. The bags under his eyes nearly matched his mustache. “Uniforms found his briefcase in his yacht. ID was in it.”

Turning on the balls of her feet, Jill again brushed strands of hair out of her face. Crap… “Captain.” She cocked her head to the side. “What’re you–?”

Backing away from the crime scene, Daniel Richards — captain of Baltimore’s Seventh Precinct — motioned for Jill to follow him out of Sorenson’s earshot. “High-profile victim.” He nodded in the direction of the body once they had cleared the crime scene tape. “Only a matter of time before the Sun and the TV trucks show up, and you can’t exactly solve a murder if you’re busy swatting at gnats.”

Loathe as Jill was to admit it, the press had good reason to be interested in this case. Trent Roberts had been a high-profile scientist, renowned for his work on human prosthetics. He was also considered a pioneer in the study of cybernetics, using his extensive knowledge in that field to push revolutionary improvements in said prosthetics — many a war veteran had Dr. Roberts to thank for the fact that their lives had returned to normal, even after losing a limb in combat. Trent had worked closely with the United States government and with governments throughout Europe, hoping to push forward and perfect technology that would allow the world’s soldiers — the ones fighting on the front lines — to be stronger, faster, more resilient. He had once called it proactive prosthesis: outfitting soldiers with enhancements and upgrades in the hopes that they would avoid catastrophic injury and return home as intact as they were when they had left.

The Pentagon never admitted it had consulted with Dr. Roberts, and his life’s work — called Project Fusion — was little more than urban legend, but Jill knew better. She had seen all of this firsthand during her time with the Army. Not only did she serve two tours in Iraq before her four years were up, but she had also seen things that, officially, never existed.

Giving Richards a knowing glance, Jill again ducked under the tape and approached the body. Juanita Gutierrez, Baltimore’s chief medical examiner, was crouched to examine Dr. Roberts, the sky blue of her latex gloves contrasting with the drab surroundings. Juanita wore a black ball cap to keep her matching hair out of the way, but the occasional gust of wind threatened to toss the hat into the Chesapeake Bay.

Ramon stood behind Juanita, covering his mouth and nose with a handkerchief. His blue eyes still had that sick look about them. “Guessing we found cause of death.”

“I’d say,” Juanita said and gave her little brother a sympathetic smile. “Slashed across the throat. You name it, it’s been severed. Guessing he got tossed into the water to try and mitigate the mess.”

Jill crouched across from Juanita, her eyes scanning Dr. Roberts’ remains. His face was bloated; were it not for his wire-rim glasses and the unmistakable hint of yellow in his eyes, she might not have recognized him. Her forehead scrunched in concentration as she put on her own pair of latex gloves. Her heart nearly skipped a beat when she finally laid eyes on Roberts’ chest, which had been sliced open, sternum snapped in two, and several ribs broken. Strong as her constitution was, Jill nearly doubled over when she saw Dr. Roberts’ heart was missing.

“Ugh…” She got back to her feet, stumbling back before gathering her bearings and clear her head. “We sure it wasn’t the gaping hole in his chest?”

Juanita shook her head. “Postmortem.” She stood and took a step back, using her pen to point at the body. “Just like the slash on his left arm.”

There it was again: that pang of familiarity, along with its dear friend, the chill of dread. Jill struggled to keep her expression as neutral as possible, so as not to raise the suspicion of anyone else on-scene. She paced around Dr. Roberts’ body before glancing up at her partner; Ramon was still holding the handkerchief over his face, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that he desperately wanted to be elsewhere. Under better circumstances, she would tease him over his weak stomach, but given the condition of the body, and the reality of the case that had fallen into their collective laps, she couldn’t blame him.

“This doesn’t makes any sense.” Jill scratched an imaginary itch on her right temple, shaking her head. “Who would slash his throat, slice open his chest, steal his heart, slash the side of his arm, then toss him into the water?”

Juanita arched a brow. “Especially since there’s not much spatter on the yacht.”

“Hey, Ramon,” Jill decided to give her partner an out, “go canvass the yacht, see if there’s anything uniforms missed.”

Jill allowed herself an amused smile and a knowing glance at Juanita as Ramon hurriedly made his way to the yacht. He tried to play it cool, but it was obvious how glad he was for the reprieve. Between his constitution and the fact that he insisted on wearing those overcoats at crime scenes, sometimes teasing him was too easy.

The detective knelt beside the body again. Juanita, after making a note on her clipboard, regarded Jill and cocked her head. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jill lied. “Just… I think I met this guy when I was in the service.”

Clearing her throat, Jill stood upright again, deciding it was best to change the subject before Juanita had the chance to pry any further. Logically, Jill figured the truth was going to come out eventually, but she didn’t feel like taking a trip down Memory Lane while Dr. Roberts’ body was staring up into the sky — and definitely not with dozens of cops swarming around him. Maybe Jill would get lucky, though; maybe Dr. Roberts’ death was unrelated to his ties or his work.

Come on… when have I ever been that lucky?

“We need to find the heart.”

Even as she said it, Jill knew how unlikely that was. If the killer went through the effort of cutting Dr. Roberts open, of snapping his sternum in half and making a mess of his ribs, then that meant whoever it was wanted the heart for something. Which meant the heart wouldn’t be at the crime scene. Familiarity tugged at the detective again — not just because of who the victim was, but even the manner in which he died felt familiar.

Jill made a mental inventory of every case she had worked since Captain Richards handed her the badge, but nothing sprung to mind. Baltimore had seen some gruesome homicides in her time on the force, but nothing like this. Even the occasional mob hit had nothing on this; as gruesome as the Lincoln riddled with bullet holes had been two months back, with blood staining the windows and a mob enforcer’s brain splattered all over the back seat, even that paled in comparison to this.

Jill glanced over her shoulder, making sure none of the other officers were looking in her direction. Content in that knowledge, she reached up to her left temple before grabbing and peeling off a skin graft to reveal a metal eyeplate that spanned from her hairline to her cheek.

With a blink and a tap of her finger against her temple, Jill activated the infrared sensor embedded in her left eye, scanning the crime scene — careful to make sure she was in a dimly-lit area in case any officers or detectives looked her way. The last thing Jill wanted was for a street light to glimmer off her eyeplate.

Jill took her time looking over the area. The pavement was clear of anything the naked eye wouldn’t pick up, and her infrared vision didn’t do much for the water. Jill needed to examine the yacht, but Ramon and three uniformed officers were still on the vessel.

With a sigh, Jill turned her back to the crime scene and placed the skin graft back over the eyeplate. Without a mirror handy, she took a few extra seconds to make sure everything was in order; she couldn’t eyeball this one. She eventually returned to the scene, stopping once Richards approached again. “Don’t look now,” Jill saw news vans approaching over Richards’ shoulder, “but here come the vultures.”

Jill shrugged. “Just as well. I’ve got some phone calls to make back at the precinct.”

Jill tried not to laugh; the thunderstorm began just as the media arrived. Juanita and two uniformed officers scrambled to cover Roberts’ body so the rain wouldn’t compromise any potential evidence, and the TV crews struggled to get the rain gear on their equipment — which was all the opening Jill needed to avoid dealing with them. Talking to the press was not her job; the department had a spokesperson to handle that.

Pushing her way past Richards, and ignoring the portly reporter cursing under his breath at how the rain had already ruined his notepad, Jill dialed a number into her smartphone before pressing it to her ear. Crossing Pratt Street, she ducked into an alley to get away from the commotion and the heavy raindrops dotting the pavement. She pulled the band off her hair, undoing her ponytail and straightening out the locks. She cursed under her breath when the phone rang for the fifth time, and she was ready to hang up when the sixth ring cut off and a male voice answered.

Freeman.”

“We have a problem.” Jill’s voice was steady, and her fingers again removed the skin graft. “Meet me at our usual spot.”

Pick up your copy of the newly relaunched Bounty today: Kindle | Paperback | Kobo | Nook | Google Play | iBooks

Bounty and Comic Books: An Origin Story

Before we get started, look at this awesomeness.

I commissBounty-Smallioned comic book artist Kendall Goode (@kendallgoode on Twitter) to draw a piece depicting Bounty, the hero of my Jill Andersen series of novels, and as soon as I saw the finished product in my inbox… well, I’m not sure there are words for the sound I made. But suffice it to say, I love the piece, and it perfectly exemplifies what I think of when I write this character.

I’ve made no secret of the influence comic books have had on my work. Nor have I hid the fact that Bounty, when I first created her back in 1997, was a comic book character. She was supposed to be on your local comic book shop every month, not available on Amazon.

But life is funny sometimes.

These days, I’m a novelist. Not because I’ve outgrown comic books — I still collect them, after all — but because I’ve become a much better writer than artist. It’s an evolution borne out of necessity (as most evolution is), but even as I have morphed Jill and her world into prose, the panels and word balloons are never far from my mind.

As I type this, I’m toying with the plot for a potential Bounty graphic novel. I have no timetable for this project, but I do want to see it through — and the above image is all the motivation and inspiration I need. I love the Jill Andersen books; I love that I’ve matured enough, as a writer and as a person, that I can write these stories. I love that readers love Jill as much as I do.

But I want to bring Jill home. She deserves to be immortalized in a graphic novel. That was where she started. Hell, that’s where I started. Without discovering and getting hooked on comic books when I was in middle school, I doubt I’m a storyteller right now. I don’t know what I’d be, but I don’t think I’d have “published author” among the things about which I can brag.

Who would draw a Bounty graphic novel? Well, that’s one of the hang-ups.

It sure as hell won’t be me (see above). Right now, Goode is my choice… but then there’s the issue of payment. I would never ask an artist to work with me without proper compensation — to say nothing of how much money we’d agree to split on any potential sales. In a perfect world, a comic publisher would pick up my script and all of that would take care of itself. But a Plan B would be nice.

So for that reason alone, the Bounty graphic novel might be way down the road. But it is something I want to do, it is something I’m writing. But for the time being, Jill will have to stick to prose, with only glimpses like the above image keeping the dream of her going back to her roots to spur me onward.

Some readers have compared Jill to Daredevil — a comparison I find flattering after having watched at least some of the latter’s Netflix series. One reader said Jill was like a cross between Lara Croft and Deadpool, and my fans are well aware of all the Batman references I throw into these books. Jill is a comic book character in a novel world — and as great as superhero novels are (there really should be more of them), just once I’d love to sell someone a Bounty comic or graphic novel.

One day, that will happen. One day…