kat jaske books coming soon
Honor, Book One:
Picture yourself in France in the time of the musketeers, when your honor is who you are. Meet the musketeers. Laugh with them; ride with them; fight for your life with them. Weep with them. It's 1638. Circumstances conspire to plunge the young lady, a master fencer, into the fateful position of saving France from the traitor.
For Honor and Gambit, Book Two:
Righting Time, Book Three:
Out of Phase Excerpt
Jean-Pierre met his father’s eyes for the very first time, wondering if he could possibly speak through the constriction tightening his throat. A moment longer he looked down on the man an inch or two, perhaps three. Porthos then read the unspoken message there—the one about whether he really wanted that information said here.
Porthos nodded his head in response to the unasked question, and the young man drew a deep breath. Attempted to relax. “I’m your son.” Jean-Pierre understood what it meant to truly feel like one had been flung into an abyss while having no idea when one might slam into the bottom.
“Parbleu,” Aramis murmured, and the whole room dropped into silence, eyes fixed on the two largest men they’d ever met.
Mighty Porthos blinked several times as he struggled to find his voice. “How old are you?”
“Two and twenty,” was the automatic response. Nearly three and twenty, but Jean-Pierre wasn’t going to quibble over the matter of a month or two.
“Who’s your mother?” The whole room poised in tense watchfulness, waiting anxiously for the man’s response to that question. Laurel met Jean-Pierre’s gaze, and in that instant the young man knew that she already realized who he was and when he was from. Even with her powers somewhat latent, the beautiful duchesse somehow knew.
“Cynthia,” he murmured softly. Thunk. He was pretty sure he had hit the bottom of the chasm.
“Cynthia,” Porthos echoed, and his son nodded. At the same time Aramis, Athos, and D’Artagnan all seemed to grasp the significance of the boy’s parentage. Porthos’ son from over eight hundred and eighty-five years in the future. “By all that is . . .”
the 9/9/2008 (September 9, 2008) Eureka TV show, character Jack Carter utters
the words, "I'm a little out of phase," as his daughter Zoe literally
walks through him. The premise was that her body matter and his body matter
were in different phases. Anybody remember that show? Send me an email at
info forhonor.com ( put the 'at' sign where the blank is.) The book Out
of Phase has even more amazing things going on. Read on.
Send an email to my contacts if you have questions about the book.
Out of Phase by Kat Jaske - Book Four of By Honor Bound ISBN 0-7414-5060-7
Swashbuckling adventure, science fiction
Out of Phase
This story has everything for the science-fiction fan. Aliens, time travel, wars for survival of the universe, extraordinary powers, superheroes, and powers of the mind so far only dreamed of. The love story of two people from the past woven throughout has implications for survival of the human race itself.
The author has plots and subplots going on in the far future, near future, and the distant past. The outcome of each affects all the others.
True science-fiction fans will find the story challenging, thought-provoking, and just plain fun to read.
Out of Phase Excerpt
“Try not to interrupt and I’ll try to give you a short version of the whole story.”
Guillaume sat stunned.
So I was conceived in the twenty-first century by Porthos and Cynthia and then born in late 2514. Finally, in 2537 after ten years of intensive training and testing, I became a member of the historical guild and claimed my right to come back here and see my father—Porthos.”
Out of Phase Excerpt
The trees, tall and majestic, stood as silent watchers. Seeing all that passed beneath their limbs as they had for countless centuries. Again, in this crisp, cool dawn they resumed their sentinel duty as a small party wove beneath their bows and came to stand in an equally small clearing.
Four men and one woman. All mute as the first rays of light played across the skin of their faces and the backs of their hands.
And in the clearing the trees continued to whisper. The sun rose. Another typical day.