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MissyJane! Randomly drawn with the Rafflecopter widget (man, that thing makes this easy)

MissyJane, I think you’ve already got my email, so if you can just drop me a line…

Qs & Comments on Blade Song

*cross posted from my JC blog

 

So it’s been almost two weeks since BLADE SONG came out.  For the most part, it seems like people enjoy it.  It’s gotten quite a few reviews on Goodreads & Amazon, more than some of my stuff that’s been out for ages, so that’s cool.

I’ve been asked some questions/received comments via email, twitter, facebook…since they are generally the same Qs and comments, wanted to just address them all in one place.

FYI…everything after this first question might have spoilers, so if you haven’t read it, be warned, read with caution, etc, etc.

Q. I want to read this, but I don’t read ebooks.

I’m working on getting it in print…I’m going over the galley now and once that’s finished, we’ll get it out for print.  Remember, after this, you might find spoilers, although I tried to stay super vague.

Q. When is the next book coming out?

I haven’t been able to give a hard date because, to be honest, I had to make sure I could do it.  Selfpublishing anything is a gamble…you’re investing a lot of time and money upfront and I had to make sure it was going to be worth it.  But Blade Song is going pretty well, from what I can tell, so I’m going forward with plans on book 2. However, I need to see how long it’s going to take get the edits done, etc.

Once I have an answer on that, I can get to work on figuring out when.  I can probably guestimate sometime in early 2013.

Q. Damn, woman.  There were some errors in this. Didn’t you have it edited?

Yes.  I did.  I had an editor and line editor go over the book and I probably read the thing thirty times myself.  But my brain is hard-wired to see what I meant to say. The errors are completely and totally my fault, as it’s my name on the book. It’s actually easier to find things now as I get it ready for print and I’m finding things now that I didn’t see during those thirty times…I think not reading it for a while makes it easier.  I’ve checked and I will be able to get a corrected version loaded to the various platforms, Kindle, Nook or Apple.  Hopefully I’ll be able to get it done soon.

I apologize completely and I’m going see about hiring a third line editor for future books.

Q. I’m disappointed.  I read this thinking Kit was something like Kate Daniels and she’s not…she’s a wuss.

I’ve gotten this comment several times and I debated long and hard about whether to address it, so…well.  Here we go.

I never said Kit was anything like Kate.  Comparisons were made, yes, but not by me.  I actually almost flinch when I see them, because Kate would break Kit over her knee.  Kit would go down fighting, but she would still go down.

I’m sorry if people feel like they were cheated but I didn’t want to write a heroine that was like Kate.  Nobody can write a heroine like Kate except those who created her. (And I’m damn grateful to those who created her..the Ilona Andrews writing team?  My favorite UF authors.  I’m addicted to their books and own them in multiple formats.)

I want Kit to be her own person, and hopefully she can be enjoyed (or even hated) for just that.

Q. Is there a story before this?  It seems like there were references to one/I’ve seen this character before/etc

Yes.  There was a story before this.  It’s called a A Stroke of Dumb Luck (under Shiloh Walker) and you can read it for free up on Tor.com or you can buy it from Kindle/Nook.  FYI, this is a very short story, so before you buy it, I’d recommend checking it out Tor.com first.

Q. I hate Damon/I love Damon/Why did you put her with an abusive asshole?/Why did you XXXXX like that?/Why is he such a jerk?/Why did he XXXXX her in the beginning?  Why did XXXX happen? I didn’t buy the ending with them…

Okay, this is going to be long.

Damon is who he is.   Kit likes him just as he is.  Maybe people don’t buy it, but Kit jumps into things, sometimes stupidly, because it feels right and he felt right to her. She hasn’t ever had anybody who felt like hers before…that’s part of why she was fine with rushing into things.  She’s…well…needy, in that aspect, to put it mildly.  Did she rush it?  Maybe.  But that’s the way the story needed to go. But they aren’t set for a smooth course of true love or anything…not at all.

As to Damon’s character…well,  like I said…he is who he is. And I kid you not, if I hadn’t had an epiphany over Damon’s character, this book never would have gotten finished.  It was about fifteen pages long for more than a year, probably close to two?  Longer?  I lost track.

Anyway…and Damon was going to be a dingo, and I planned on killing him in book 2. No, he’s not dying in book 2…I don’t plan on killing him at all…I don’t think…

But he was going to be this…

*Image via Morgue Files

And then he was going to be dead.  Yes. I really planned on killing him and all sorts of other stuff.  Eventually Kit was going to have a new love interest, blah, blah, blah…and the book just…wasn’t moving.  The world I’d thought I’d needed to make wasn’t working.

Then I was on twitter, followed a link and found myself looking at this…

Image via Dwayne Johnson’s Facebook page

A different step away from the man I’d originally had in mind for Damon, but that wasn’t a bad thing, because once I started researching some stuff behind the tattoos, I had an image come into mind…a different sort of character for Damon.  Once I had that in mind, everything clicked.

The story attacked my brain and I couldn’t stop writing until it was done, and it wasn’t just the one book…entire plot arcs came together for me in a way that’s never happened, threads that are going to weave together for a bigger picture.  (There are some Easter eggs in book 1…dunno if anybody has found them, but at least one more shows up in book 2 and other things start becoming more clear in later books).

The story was stuck because Damon was all wrong.  Yeah, some people hate him and think he’s an abusive sort of asshole, but he is who he is and the book finally started moving because I changed up the story where he was concerned.

I have a different outlook on the abuse thing…Damon didn’t realize that Kit was that close to human.  He smelled the magic on her, figured she was a witch and hiding it somehow, especially since she told him she’d been bitten but hadn’t been changed.  That’s not typical, so it made sense in his mind that somehow she was hiding how strong she was.   He’s also worried about her temper-he’s already seen evidence of it, and he’s worried that if she decides to go slice and dice, he’ll have to kill his own people to protect her.  If he has to scare her into doing what he wants, he’s fine with that.  if he’d realized how close to human she was, he would taken a different route.

(Yes, I’d really planned on killing him in the earliest versions of the story.  Those plans have changed.  Yes, he was really going to be a dingo…I’d wanted a were that wasn’t used all that much, but in the end, I needed a predator that native to the area where Damon was born, so the dingo wouldn’t work out.  Nor did I want to make him something all cute and cuddly looking like a civet…)

Q. Do we learn more about Kit’s abilities/her family?

Kit’s still learning her abilities herself.  She ran away from home when she was young and keep in mind, her grandmother was more interested in abusing her than anything else. If she’d been around another five or ten years (had she lived), she would have learned a lot more about her kind and what they can do, but she wasn’t and everything other than her ability with weapons, she’d learned on her own, including her ability to fade out and how she can call her weapons.  Those are things her family should have taught her, but they didn’t.

Yes, we will learn more of her abilities, but Kit’s not going to be a super-hero sort of heroine.  Her main skills lie in the areas of subterfuge (when she can keep her mouth shut) and cunning.

As to her family…we’ll see.

Q. I kept thinking this was a young adult book!

Ummmm…I’ve gotten this comment several times over and I’m really confused by it, so I’m just putting it out here…I don’t do YA.  This isn’t YA.  I’ll probably let bratlet (my oldest) read it when she’s fifteen or sixteen.  Parents need to make their own choices, but this definitely isn’t a YA book.  It involves swearing, violence and sex.

Okay… I think that covers it.  If there are other Qs or comments I can address, please feel free to leave them below.

Are you on Goodreads?

I do a bookclub sort of thing…it’s not a chat exactly, but a deal where I offer up one book from my backlist each month and if you add it to your TBR shelf, you can maybe win that book.

This month’s book is CHAINS, one of my older erotic romances.

Renee was the homecoming queen with the perfect boyfriend and the perfect life. Lacey was the golden girl with the bright future. And Sherra always looked like the princess in a fairy tale. The three girls each seemed charmed-until one tragic night shattered their hopes for normalcy.

Now, fifteen years later, the women are returning to their hometown of Madison, Ohio, where three men await them-each dangerous in his own way. And when each of the women succumb to desire, they may also find the safety they’ve been searching for.

 

Read more about the bookclub here…

Listerine and the Perseids…

So we’re staying up tonight (as in, we’re sleeping outside and the alarm is set for 2:30) in hopes of seeing the meteor shower.

But it’s summer…and the mosquitoes are horrid.

HOWEVER…I tried out this awesome tip from my aunt.  I dunno where she heard it, but we tried it last night when we had a campfire. It was like in the 60s and perfect weather. And the tip worked.

Supposedly, if you use Listerine (I bought the generic) and put it in a spray bottle and apply it to the grass, it can help repel mosquitoes.  I tried it.  Didn’t get a single bite.  Neither did the kids or my guy and we were out for hours.  It has to be the brown, nasty Listerine, though.

So we’re staying out, and hopefully we won’t get eaten alive as we watch for the meteor shower.

Random stuff, a winner and rambles

First up… Eeyore and Roman now have a new home.  Nora, who posted:

Our all time favorite just has to be Tigger… My eldest son personified him, always jumping bouncing (climbing, diving, adventuring) and getting in trouble.

I’d love to win so I could put them on my shelf and enjoy them.

Nora, you can use the contact form here on the blog to email me or send an email to shilohwalker (at) gmail.com.

Finished THE PROTECTED (FBI PSYCHICS #4) on Tuesday.  Here’s a little bit from it…

So she’d just enjoy the uniform, and the view… and pretend she was somewhere else.

The view was fine.  Damn fine.   Excellent shoulders.  Long, loose-hipped gait.  Behind her sunglasses, she studied him, black hair tucked under a battered hat, a pair of cheap sunglasses that shielded his gaze from her.  He wore a threadbare T-shirt and jeans so worn, they were practically white at the seams.  Damn, he wore those jeans well, too.

Because the view was making her throat go dry, she reached for the bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade at her side and took a long drag off of it as she shifted her attention to the other things.  Like the backpack he was still carrying.  Like the boy.

Her other target.

~*~

The book was just completed…no blurb, no info on it at this point.

 

Took Wednesday off.  Had a field trip sort of day with my guy…

I left one of the stops with this:

It’s on my shoulder.  If you click it, it should let you open a larger image. If it’s doesn’t, sorry…you can always go to my pinterest page.  It’s loaded there, too.

On Thursday, I found this in the mail…

That’s my ramble for the day.  What are you up to?

Walmart + Saturday + School Supplies = Hell

Walmart + Saturday + School Supplies = Hell

I kid you not.

Two hours.  And we’re still not done because they didn’t have the simplest things I needed. So we have to make another trip out tomorrow.  Just shoot me now.  Argh.

I plan on finishing up THE PROTECTED this next week. One good week and it’s done.  Then I can focus on the next RS series.

A snippet from THE PROTECTED…

There was a soft whisper of sound and he turned, saw Vaughnne standing in the doorway, her friend’s arm slung over her shoulder.

Vaughnne stared at him.

He returned that gaze without blinking, letting her see every ugly truth on his face.

“If you are going to ask if it is true,” he said, schooling his voice into a bored, flat tone.  “Don’t bother, Vaughnne.”

“I won’t.  I can already tell it is.  I just want to know why.”

Release date not known.  Probably sometime in 2013.

 

 

Locked in Silence…now available…

The next Grimm book is now out in print. Released in ebook last year. Like most of the Grimm books, this will work fine as a standalone.

Amazon | BN | BAMM | Book Depository

 

Dying is hard enough. Coming back to life is brutal. Grimm’s Circle, Book 5 Vanya has been hunting and killing demons ever since one of them scarred her face and killed her sister. Correction-since she was forced to kill the demon possessing her sister. Then some sort of angel offers her a deal she can’t refuse-that if she becomes one of them, she gets to kill even more demons. Tonight, she’s made that choice. The death she smells on the air will be her own-and she welcomes it.

Silence feels a darkness is looming. Change-something he has every reason not to welcome. The deeply hidden memories that robbed him of his past, of his own name, render him unfit to teach anyone the ways of the Grimm. Yet here he is in the dankest sex club in town, waiting to assume his charge-after he stands by and watches her die. When Vanya awakes, their complicated, dangerous dance begins. And so does something else-a searing need that blisters along their unexpected mental connection. Silence shouldn’t be drawn to his student, but once they touch, he can’t think of a reason to stop. Even though acting out their darkest desires puts them in more danger than they realize. Warning: This book contains sex-starved demons, lonely angels, demon-angel sandwiches, blood, violence, death and a happy-ever-after.

 

Excerpt…

(FYI, Silence is mute)

While she was studying the menu, she was vaguely aware of Silence rising from the bed, vaguely aware of him moving around the room—although he didn’t make a sound.

He was so damn quiet—Silence was an appropriate name for him, all right.

Wavering between the fettuccini alfredo and the lasagna, fighting the heavy weight of her tired body, she sighed. That voice—the one that had her convinced she was going out of her mind—was there in the back of her head again, murmuring, muttering…

“I push her too hard. She looks too tired. I should let her rest more.”

“I’m fine,” she said absently.

Then she stiffened and lifted her head, all too aware of his sudden, intent interest. Swallowing, she met his pale blue gaze.

His eyes narrowed.

Blood rushed to her cheeks.

“Um…nothing.” She looked back at the menu in her hands, tried to ignore the voice.

It was harder, though—because now his voice was louder.

More focused.

And now, he was calling her by name.

“Do you hear me, Vanya?”

Pointedly, she ignored it. Lasagna, she thought. She really thought she could use some lasagna. It had been a while since she’d had a good dish of lasagna. And after all, he was buying, right? Bread too. Salad. Yeah. That sounded good.

“Vanya, look at me.”

She started to whistle as she reached over and grabbed a pen and a notepad from the bedside table.

“You’ll have to figure out what you want and then I’ll call it in,” she said, forcing more cheer than she actually felt into her voice.

“Just order me what you’re getting.”

“Okay, two—”

Fuck.

Her hand tightened on the pen, and then she carefully laid it down before she looked over at him.

He was eyeing her closely, a narrow, appraising look on his face.

“You hear me,” he said pointedly.

“Ah…well, not all the time,” she hedged. Licking her lips, she looked at the menus and then laid them back down, sighing. “I just…hell, I thought I was going crazy or suffering some weird, post-death, come-back-to-life thing.”

That deep, rumbling laughter whispered through her mind, and a wide grin split his face.

“Exactly how often do you hear me?”

“Shit,” she muttered, shifting around on the bed. Sighing, she tucked her hair back behind an ear. From the corner of her eye, she saw the menus. Seizing on that distraction, she shoved one toward him. “Aren’t we going to eat? I’m hungry.”

He lifted a brow.

It was amazing how many things he could say with simply a look.

Still, she didn’t look away, didn’t lower the menu.

He signed, I already said, whatever you’re having. Order. Then we talk.

 

Naturally, it only took two minutes to place the order—nowhere near enough time for her to get her thoughts straight.

The past month had been hard, grueling—she didn’t even know it was possible for a person to be beaten into the dirt as often as he had. It didn’t necessarily help that come morning, her body felt completely refreshed, completely revitalized…meaning he came at her just as hard, just as fast.

She’d rather they start a fresh bout of training all over again than to have any sort of…talk.

Especially something remotely personal.

After she laid the phone back in the cradle, she looked back at Silence.

The two of them, they hadn’t done much talking, at least not of a personal nature. Lots of training. He’d done a lot of explaining about what sort of demons they’d face—succubae, incubae, orin…others. How they traveled from a place called the netherplains to their world—most of them had to take over a human body in order to do much of anything.

Basically, she played student to his teacher—if there was a theme song for her new life, maybe it could be “Hot for Teacher”.

He made her heart race just looking at him.

He also made her belly clench, made her palms go damp, her knees go weak.

He made her ache.

In the worst possible way, in the sweetest way.

And now he wanted to talk about her gifts.

Hell. This was too damn personal.

What if he was like her?

She’d gotten pretty damn good at hiding how she felt over the past few years, but if he was anything like her…

Vanya blushed even thinking about it. Blushed furiously as she sat there with her chest tight, her palms sweaty, her breath lodged in her throat.

“You’ve got gifts, don’t you?” she blurted out.

Silence narrowed his eyes. We’re supposed to be talking about your gifts, he signed. He added emphasis by jabbing a finger at her after he’d finished. Yours.

“I know. I just…well, this is weird. I haven’t talked to anybody about what I can do. It’s…”

The hard line of his mouth softened and the aggravated look in his blue eyes faded. Not easy to talk about, is it? he signed.

“No.” She hitched a shoulder up, wondered how she could explain that she barely even needed him to sign when he was talking to her because she often heard his voice—low and deep—in the back of her mind. And if he was thinking about her, she heard him too.

How did she tell him that?

He sat down next to her. She had to check the impulse to scoot away—the long, hard length of his thigh against hers made her uneasy—made her want to climb into his lap, see if she couldn’t crack the polite, friendly mask he wore around her.

He held out a hand. Startled, she looked at it—stared at his broad, scarred palm. His hands were a mess—ridged with scars that looked like knife cuts, burns, other old injuries she couldn’t even indentify. So at odds with his perfect, angelic face. Looking from that scarred hand into ice-blue eyes, she said, “What?”

He grinned. And again she heard his thoughts. “You want to know about my gifts. I’ll show you.”

Nervously, she laid her hand in his. “You’re not a psychic, are you?”

He shook his head, and then with his free hand, gestured to the room.

Vanya looked around. “I don’t know what I’m looking for…”

He took his hand away.

The room fell into darkness. Darkness so complete, she couldn’t even see him, although he sat right next to her. She couldn’t feel him, and she’d gotten pretty damn good at that.

Then his hand was in hers again, and the darkness was gone.

“Oh—”

Once more he pulled his hand away.

The darkness returned.

“—shit.”

This time, the darkness didn’t disappear. It gradually bled away, like the night bled into day. Her heart banged hard against her ribs as she looked at him.

“What in the hell was that?”

He smiled and signed. She didn’t recognize it, though.

When he spoke into her mind, she stiffened. “It’s illusion. I can make you think you see darkness when there is none.”

She blinked. “You mean, it wasn’t really dark?” Scowling, she remembered the night at the warehouse—the night she died. “That night. At the warehouse.”

Absently, she reached up and touched her throat. She couldn’t remember much of anything beyond that first pain, the shock of it. But she remembered everything right up to that point…the fear, the terror. The helplessness—knowing she’d been alone.

But she hadn’t been.

He’d been there.

Waiting.

Part of her wanted to rebel at the thought—wanted to demand to know why he hadn’t done something—even though she already knew the answer. He’d done exactly what he’d been sent to do.

She couldn’t very well become one of them if she hadn’t died, could she?

And just as she’d been promised, she hadn’t been alone.

“That night at the warehouse,” she said again. “There was so much darkness. But it wasn’t darkness, was it? It was you.”

He nodded. A grim look entered his eyes. “You know that I couldn’t have stopped what happened—not if you’re meant to be one of us. But I cannot blame you if you are angry.”

“I know that.” She sighed and looked away. Bracing her elbows on her knees, she covered her face and said it again. “I know that. It doesn’t mean it’s easy to think about, although…well, it helps knowing I wasn’t alone.”

She shot him a faint smile. “I was terrified, thinking I was alone.”

“You weren’t.” He touched the back of her hand. His mouth twisted as he studied her face. “It wasn’t easy to simply stand there, either. Even knowing what was to come.”

She blew out a breath. “Well, it’s over and done, right?” Self-preservation had her forcing some distance between them. Sitting there, so close, was wreaking havoc on her state of mind, not to mention was it doing to her body. “So, the darkness in there that night—that was all you?”

Silence nodded and made that unusual sign, the one she didn’t recognize. As he did it, he said in her mind, “Illusion. Just illusion. It’s one of my gifts.”

“That’s pretty cool,” she murmured, smiling.

He shrugged. Then he reached up, tapped her brow, waiting with a lifted brow.

She grimaced. Standing, she moved away from him, slicking her damp palms down the front of her pants. They were snug-fitting black yoga pants—something Silence had picked up for her. Along with several other changes of clothes—more yoga pants, close-fitting sport bras, the sort of clothes she could maneuver in while he pounded her into the floor.

“I’m psychic,” she said, keeping her back to him, staring out the window into the night. “It’s not exactly reliable, and usually I’ve never gotten anything more than the odd random thought here and there. It was strongest with my sister. After she died, it got more erratic—more like a radio station I couldn’t quite get to tune in. It was awful when I was in crowds—like I was hearing all these screaming voices and I couldn’t focus on any of them.”

The muscles at the base of her neck were tight. Reaching up, she cupped a hand over it, rolled her head first one way then the other, trying to ease the tension there, but it didn’t help.

She was still a mess of nerves.

A mess of need.

She didn’t hear him—

She felt him.

He was there, that big, powerful body heating hers through and through. His hand came up, lightly brushed hers. As if asking permission.

Get the hell away from him before you do something really, really stupid, Van, she told herself. Like throw yourself at him.

But when he gently nudged her hand out of the way, she couldn’t find the strength to do anything but stand there.

“And the gift is different now, isn’t it? Is more powerful? Other changes since you came back?”

She shivered at the low, velvety rumble of his voice echoing through her mind. Or maybe it was the way his roughened skin rasped over her neck as he dug his thumbs into her skin and started to massage away the tension there. Heat blossomed inside and she swallowed the moan before it could escape.

“Yeah,” she said, surprised at how steady, how calm her voice sounded. “It’s changed, although I don’t know if I can say it’s more powerful exactly. Most of the change seems to be related to you—I can hear your voice, and you sound clearer than anybody else ever did. The few times we’ve been around other people…well, there’s not much change there. Although that could be because I’m not around them much. There are times when I hear your voice as clearly as if you’re talking to me, and the more time that passes, the clearer it gets.”

His hands never stilled, and although she couldn’t pick apart the individual thoughts, they were in the back of her head, like the dull hum of a conversation she could barely hear.

Finally, he asked, “When does it seem to be the most clear?”

“When you’re thinking about me. Or like now—if you’re talking to me.” His thumb hit a particularly tight spot to the right of her neck, and despite herself, she groaned. Then, as he focused on that knot of tension, she let her head fall forward, all but sagging against the cool, glass window.

“But not all the time?”

“No. And I think if you try to keep me from hearing you, I wouldn’t hear you,” she said, frowning as she focused and tried to pick up the trail of his thoughts and discovered she couldn’t.

She could still hear that dull roar of his thoughts, but nothing she could pick apart and focus on.

“This is interesting. We should see who else it works on,” he said.

Absently, she murmured, “I told you, I don’t hear others this clearly.” But she was too focused on what else she was picking up from him…something warm, bright…an oddly shimmering thing. Emotion, she realized. One she could only describe as pleasure. Happiness, even.

Without understanding why, she somehow knew he was…happy. Pleased. Slipping away from his hands, she turned around and stared up at him, studying him. “You’re happy about this,” she said, frowning.

Something akin to surprise flashed through his eyes. Then he shut it down and that odd warmth she’d been feeling was abruptly cut off. He lifted a brow and signed, What makes you think that?

“The fact that I was feeling it from you?” she said, shrugging. “It doesn’t make much sense to me—if somebody told me they were hearing my thoughts, I think I’d be pissed.”

She went to edge around him, but he caught her arm.

“You haven’t been locked in silence for hundreds of years, Vanya. I have. Having somebody who can hear me at all, well, it’s not unpleasant. It isn’t as though I cannot block you out, as you’ve already pointed out. I imagine it’s somewhat discomfiting for you, however.”

His pale blue eyes held hers. There was something so raw in that look—so intimate, so unsettling.

Without realizing what she planned to do, she reached up and touched a hand to his throat, felt the warmth of his skin, the slow, steady beat of his pulse under her thumb.

“It’s not discomfiting,” she said quietly, stroking her thumb over his skin.

“This doesn’t bother you?”

His eyes…damn it, she was getting lost in his eyes…

Fragile… releases in mass market…

If you haven’t read it and you like romantic suspense or contemporary, maybe you can give it a look. I’d appreciate it.  If this one does well, then the follow-up BROKEN will likely be released in mass market, too.

If you liked the ASH books or my FBI psychic books, this one might be right up your alley. Here… snippet!

Under his mouth, her lips were soft and full and her taste was sweet, damn near addictive. On some level, Luke did understand addiction.

He was an adrenaline junkie and that was every bit as addictive as a drug.  ButDevon?  Man, the taste of her could easily beat that.  Screw skydiving.  Just kissing Devon Manning got his blood pumping like nothing he’d ever felt before. Cupping her chin in his hand, he angled her head to the side and deepened the kiss.

He waited for her to pull away.  The hesitation, the caution he’d expected was there but she didn’t pull away.  Luke ached to pull her closer against him, to deepen the contact.  Through their clothes, he could feel the heat of her body and he already knew how silken soft her skin was.  He needed to feel more.

Ached to feel more.

Her body all but vibrated against his, with heat, with hunger–and hesitation.  Luke would be damned if he caused her a second’s fear so instead of pushing for more, instead of sliding his hands under her shirt, instead of letting them roam over the denim covered curves of her hips and butt, he touched only her chin and jaw, his fingers spread wide and holding her still for his kiss.  His other hand, he kept clenched in a fist at his side.

Devonswayed closer.  Luke felt the last of his control slipping away and he either had to take more–or stop.  Luke went with stopping, slowly pulling away so he could stare at her.  “There’s something here,Devon.  You can’t tell me you don’t feel it.”

BAMM | B & N | Book Depository | IndieBound | Amazon | Powell’s

**I’m hoping the Kindle/Nook/ebook pricing will drop shortly.  Please note, I have absolutely NO control over this. Don’t yell at me pretty please.

happy birthday…

Somebody mega important to me is having a birthday… I love you.