 
Please buy my books
For
Honor, Book One:
*****"Fast-paced, swashbuckling book
replete with humor, charm and valor extraordinaire.
Jaske does a masterful job of evoking appropriate
atmosphere and is highly skilled at character development.
ForeWordReviews.com
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:
*****These are the best fiction books I
have read in a few years. They are extremely well-written
and put-together. Raymond Shannon from Ireland
Righting Time, Book Three:
*****Like James Michener, Kat Jaske understands that the best way to get
readers interested in history is to bring the past to life with
brilliant stories and characters." - Dave
Lieber, Fort Worth Star-Telegram
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 . . .”
|
On
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.
New Book
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
See front and back
cover image ->>>
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.
“During a maintenance check in the 26th century, Konrad was accidentally
taken from about 1640 and jumped forward in time to 2059 or 2060. When
he got there he really messed up the course of twenty-first century history,
and then he somehow returned to the seventeenth century and assassinated
Laurel.
Before the time distortions reached them, Daryl, Keith, and Jala jumped
backward in time to 1641, before Laurel’s murder, looking to find
people who knew Konrad and could help them find him in 2060 and then bring
him back to 1641. You understanding this so far?”
Guillaume’s eyes were serious as he nodded. Jean-Pierre continued
his narrative. “In the twenty-first they met up with a fellow compatriot
from the 26th century who had just been assigned as a time observer back
in 2060. That observer was Cynthia.”
“Your mother?”
“Exactly,” Jean-Pierre confirmed. “Between them and
some help from twenty-first century sources, they caught Konrad and sent
him back to 1641, along with Athos, Porthos, Aramis, D’Artagnan,
and Laurel. However, the only one who doesn’t remember anything
about the entire incident is Konrad—because they wiped that section
of his memory but were unable to do that for the others.”
“Your mother? Your father?”
“Hold a moment. I’m getting to that.” Jean-Pierre took
a breath and prepared to explain his scenario. “Cynthia made a play
for Porthos during the time they were in the twenty-first century, and
she got him. However, once she got back to her own time, she found out
that due to time distortions, the birth control they’d given her
hadn’t worked and she was pregnant with me.
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.”
When Jean-Pierre spoke these words out loud, it still sounded confusing
to him, and he had had two decades to get used to the notion.
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.
In his hand the tallest of the group held a thermoTriresin, metallic plastic
the size of a paperback book. Branches rustled as if whispering to each
other. The woman glanced around, on guard. Seeing nothing, she dropped
back into a state of deliberately-relaxed attention. Zut she
was jumpy. Felt like her first solo spy mission all over again. Or was
it more like the trepidation she had felt the day before her wedding?
Laurel took herself to task for being so ill at ease. Soon she’d
be joining her husband. The rest she would not think about right now.
Her eyes stayed focused on Jean-Pierre as he intensely regarded the comstat.
Watched as he set the device by hand and by mind command. Then double-checked
the settings. At the same time the duchesse noted the musketeers were
doing the same as she was.
Jean-Pierre looked up from the readings, and a luminescent, scant blue
portal with silver glimmerings opened in the fabric of the space-time
continuum. Nothing could be seen on the other side of the portal-like
bubble.
“After you,” the young man managed to say despite the tightness
of the muscles in his throat. One by one, Laurel and the musketeers stepped
into the hazy light and disappeared, waiting in nether-space for Jean-Pierre
to enter and close their route, sending them to the 26th century.
A moment longer the large man paused. He knew once he stepped through
that portal it would be a very long time, if ever, before he knew peace
again. Young. He was too young and unprepared for this. Consciously he
shut out the rest of his thoughts and strode through the shimmering opening.
If Guillaume could face this thing, then so could he.
Onto themselves the globes of light collapsed, and a little blond-haired
figure sprinted forward. Paused not even a second before she dove through
the fading color spray. At the last possible instant another large, masculine
form darted from behind the tree, thrusting his body into the very last
quivers of warped energy field of space and time. He too disappeared.
And
in the clearing the trees continued to whisper. The sun rose. Another
typical day.
|
