Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 115

Okay… so ONE bit of news…Just sold…

This is just one bit of news, and not relating to the nerve-shattering exciting phone call I took earlier.

It’s very cool, exciting news, though, that I’ve been sitting on.

Berkley has bought two more books… One is The Protected, another FBI Psychic book, featuring a character you all will meet in The Reunited.  Her name is Vaughnne and she’s pretty damned amazing.

The other book?  A full length contemporary called Wreck this Life.  The hero’s name is Zach, heroine is Abby and she doesn’t know that he’s been in love with her for years.   And that’s all I have to say about that…it’s fun, though.  I talked it over with Helenkay Dimon in Arizona and she seemed to really love the idea.  And I’m having a ball writing it.  Here… snippet!

“Nah. I actually figured out a plan.  It’s a weird one, but I’m here to ask you to help me do one of the things on the list.”

“Okay…” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and waited.

“I want a tattoo.”

Zach closed his eyes.  Reaching up, he rubbed his right ear and then said, “You want what?”

“A tattoo.”  She wiggled the book and said, “I wrote it down and everything.  I did it last night and I’ve thought about it all day and I’m sure I want to do it, so stop looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, okay?”

“You wrote a plan that includes getting a tattoo,” he said slowly.  His mind was churning at the very idea of it and his blood was boiling.  Putting his hands on her…fuck, focus on the issue at hand, Barnes!  “And you want me to do it.”

“Well…” She grinned at him and the dimple in her chin winked at him.  “The tattoo part is in the plan.  And who else would I ask?  You’re my best friend, right?”

He pressed the heel of his hand to his eye.  “You sure about this, sugar?”

“Yes.” She tapped the book against her leg, looking around.  “Ah…does that mean you’ll do it?”

“Like I’d let anybody else,” he muttered.  “Do you know what you want?”

She shrugged.  “I hadn’t really thought it through that far.  I was kind of thinking you could help me figure that out.”

He shoved a hand through his hair and glanced around.  The parlor was empty.  “When did you want to do this?”  He could take some time to think up some designs for her.  Take some time to get a grip and–

“Now.”

Shit.

** UTA… no idea when these will be out.  The contracts haven’t been signed, the books aren’t done… so… hard to say on my end.

Leaving…on a jetplane…

Well, not really. In my car, unless I can get around to getting a rental.

But I'm heading to RT in Chicago today where I will stalk Ilona, (she's supposed to have at least a drink with me, if not dinner), try to at least find Jeaniene and give her my undying devotion and thanks, looks for other friends, sign at the expo, go to the awards dinner where I will not win, although it's nice to be nominated, and sign at the bookfair.

Live in or around Chicago?  RT itself is a paid event (although many people loiter in the bar) but the booksigning on Saturday is open to the public.  Costs $5 to get in and you can meet many many authors.  Info here...

It's here...

The Hyatt Regency O'Hare Hotel

9300 Bryn Mawr Avenue

Rosemont, Illinois, 60018

Tag… you're it… (Lynn might kill me…)

I know she hates these, but I'm totally tagging PBW.

Okay, I'm tagging people because Thea Harrison tagged me, but this one is kinda fun.

Per Thea's site...

Whee, authors are tagging each other to post 7 lines from page 77 of our latest book or current manuscript, starting after the 7th sentence.

The phone rang.

I reached for it only to have him grab my wrist.  "What in the fuck does that mean, Colbana?"

"Do you want me to do my job or not?" I snapped.

"Answer the fucking question."

The call rolled over and a familiar voice filled the air.  "Heya, Kitty girl, it's Lincoln down at Banner Central.  I heard you were looking for a runner.  I don't know if this is the one you're looking for..."

Damon let go of my wrist.

As I reached for the phone, I glared at him.  "I really wished I'd never laid eyes on you," I muttered.

He glared right back.

From Rules of the Game, the UF I'm working on.

I'm tagging...

Lynn Viehl (don't shoot me, you love me, remember?)

Ilona Andrews

Stacia Kane

TJ Michaels

KT Grant

Charlene Teglia

Elyssa Papa

And this might be a huge bust, because I dunno how many are winding up/down/all around for RT and stuff.

Because I'm lazy…

I have nothing to blog about.  So I'm just swiping what Lynn Viehl blogged about.  It's pretty damn cool and worth a look at anyway. Beautiful jewelry I'll never be able to afford, but wow... look at the effects and the music?  Again.. wow.

L'Odyssée de Cartier

 

Happy Easter…

For my friends who'll be spending today in church...

[image error] image via Photobucket | undecorated image @ lilykinsss

And for those who are just interested in the chocolate...

Saturday Snippets…

It's supposed to be emotional...

Due out in a few weeks...

No—

She jerked and backed away, unable to listen, unable to watch. "I don't want to see this—this is bullshit. Gavin wouldn't have fucked around on me."

"You're right." Jacob nodded. "He didn't. Not that night—not since. He's kept himself faithful, hoping you'd come back. But this isn't about what happened. It's about what could have happened."

He nodded toward the street. "Watch."

The next few minutes passed in a blur of screams and fury. Trish had gone to kiss Gavin again. He had been pushing her away, that much Celine could see…now.

But that night? The woman she had been? Apparently all Celine had seen was another woman in her husband's arms.

And by the time the police arrived, Trish was bleeding from her nose, clutching her belly, and Gavin was holding Celine away from the woman, even though the look in his eyes clearly said he didn't want to be touching her.

"Had you taken that other road, he would have moved out of the house two days later, filed for divorce within the week."

"No." Celine turned away and stalked down the street away from the house where she had lived with her husband. Away from whatever trick Jacob had conjured up to make her accept this bullshit life.

"You're not telling me that he divorced me for her," she bit off as Jacob caught up with her.

"No. He divorced you because the two of you weren't happy together. You hadn't been for a long time. Trish only aggravated the matter."

"But—"

"There are no buts. You weren't happy. The two of you barely managed to co-exist together. You wanted children. He did not. He wanted to pursue a writing career and you were terrified it wouldn't happen. You had different dreams for your lives and somewhere along the way, you fell out of love."

"Wrong!" She spun around and glared at Jacob. "I still love him."

"There is love, and there is in love. Have you forgotten the difference?"

She sneered at him. "What in the hell do you know about love, you damned iceberg?"

She never even saw him move. One moment, he was three feet away. And then he was only inches away, his long body, so lean and warm, caging hers in against something cool and metal—a car? Truck? She didn't know, didn't care. One hand rested by her shoulder. The other cupped her chin.

"More than you would think, sweet. Far more than you would think." Then his mouth was on hers.

 

An iceberg.

She thought he was an iceberg.

Little fool.

Her mouth was still under his, for the briefest moment. He knew it wouldn't last long, and he intended to make the most of it. She wanted to wither away and die, did she?

Perhaps she needed to see just how much life she still had inside her.

Oh, but she was sweet…he'd known she would be. Her mouth was soft, even though she was still frozen with shock. Soft, and she tasted like soft, warm woman, cherries and Coke… She lived on Cherry Coke, it seemed. He could live on the taste of it on her, he supposed.

Stroking his tongue along the curve of her lower lip, he teased her lips apart, delving inside the second he had an opportunity. He didn't believe in wasting those.

Her fingers curled into the front of his coat and over the roaring of blood in his ears, he heard the soft, broken sound of her breath…and even sweeter, the erratic beat of her heart. Her body wilted against his—he felt the push of her breasts, the softness of her belly, the long lines of the body she treated so carelessly. There was wanting in her body, needing…she wanted, she needed. Him…she wanted him.

For that moment—he felt it.

And then he felt her fist.

He took that first punch, staggering back a little. Damn, she was strong. When she would have hit him again, he caught her hand, stopping the blow before it landed. "Don't," he warned quietly.

When he saw the tears in her eyes, though, he wished he'd just let her hit him. Pound him bloody if it made her feel better.

"Why did you do that?" She jerked her hand.

Jacob let go, his heart aching.

Her voice was shaking. Fuck, what had he done?

"Why did you do that?"

"You're not dead, Celine. You need to quit wishing it on yourself."

But he didn't think she even heard him. Celine, with a hand that trembled, touched her mouth. "You kissed me. Damn it, why did you kiss me?"

There was no chance for him to answer, because more yelling erupted from the house. Celine's voice, angry and hurt. And then there was Gavin's voice, tired…just tired. There was no anger there. No anger, no hurt.

"He stopped loving you, the fool," Jacob said quietly as she turned toward the sound of the voices. "He gave up on your marriage—a long time ago, but you mourn for that life. A life where he didn't love you as you deserved."

"If he didn't love me, he wouldn't still be grieving for me."

"Many things inspire grief," Jacob said, turning to look back at her. The pain in her dark eyes all but put him on his knees. He'd do anything to take it from her. Anything. "Love. Anger."

He moved to stand next to her and because he couldn't stop himself, he touched his hand to the dark strands of her hair. "Guilt."

She flinched.

"He cared for you, yes. But that isn't love. It is guilt that makes him cling to your memory, Celine. If you would just let yourself look, you would see it."

Amazon | Samhain

Other authors who are supposed to get all emotional today...

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Eliza Gayle

Lissa Matthews

Mandy M Roth

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Leah Braemel

TJ Michaels

Lauren Dane

My love/hate affair with @pinterest

They updated/changed their terms...the main thing is they made it clear they no longer claim they'll sell work that's been uploaded and they removed that language. ( new terms effective 4/6)

Our original Terms stated that by posting content to Pinterest you grant Pinterest the right for us to sell your content. Selling content was never our intention and we removed this from our updated Terms.

They're making it simpler for copyright claims to be filed and there is a way for photographers/websites to prevent people from "pinning" so if a copyright owner doesn't want their work up there, they have an option at least to move in that direction. (wish it was so easy for piracy matters).

It tells me that the people at pinterest were listening when we pinned things like this...

[image error]

Source: linkwithlove.typepad.com via shiloh on Pinterest

 

Honestly, I don't think Pinterest expected to become as big as it did. I don't think they realized people like writers would flock to it for the visual inspiration. I don't think they expected readers to flock to it to make book boards. I don't think they expected a million and one star wars geeks to descend upon it. It got very big, very fast.

The problem is that a lot of people don't get copyright and they don't realize that taking somebody's work from deviantart-work they expect to sell and make a living from-is a problem. Hopefully more people will get that there is a problem. Artists work damn hard, no matter what the medium and it should be respected. If it's cutting into how they are able to earn a living, if they aren't being recognized for their work... yeah. Problems.

But Pinterest is taking steps to alleviate this and I'm slowly finding my way back into it's addictive embrace. My way is to continue to be respectful of what I pin.

And I'm not here again…

Today I am Novel Thoughts...talking about Memorable Heroes.

Want to come join us?

And today… I'm here…

Interview up over at THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT...

Stuff…Grimm Tidings up for Preorder

I'm chatting today at http://www.literaladdiction.com/author-chat.php at 8pm EST.

GRIMM TIDINGS is up for Pre-order at Amazon and Samhain... just an FYI, these books all work as standalone, so if you haven't read them, feel free to jump in any time.

Amazon | Samhain

Snippet!

"Careless little Grimm…"

She sneered at him, still scrabbling for a knife.

He leaned in and licked her cheek. The feel of his tongue sent a shudder of revulsion rushing through her and she swore, a lingering panic rushing in. Those memories, too many of them and too many of them were clear, rose up to taunt her. In the back of her mind, an ugly, depraved scream raged.

"Fear. I taste your fear…"

Hell, she could taste her fear. Taste it, feel it, hear it—

The parasei all but crushed her into the ground and that only made it worse. Sensory memory slammed into her, making it worse—the pain. It had torn through her—ripped her—no, no, no, NO!

She screamed and managed to get a hand free. But before she could make contact, the demon was gone.

Gasping for air, she sat up, scurrying backward as her eyes struggled to adjust and see.

Jacob.

It was Jacob.

A sob escaped her.

The long leather coat he wore whirled around him as he flung the parasei across the alley. Tears blinded her and she scrubbed them away. In the time it took for her to do that, he'd already killed the demon.

Killed it, and was walking toward her, his face tight with fury, his eyes cold.

She closed her eyes.

Here we go again…

It had taken him nine months, but he'd finally gotten the picture. She wasn't right for this, and now he'd make sure Will got the message.

Good. The sight of his fury, his frustration, was a cold splash of water in her face and she was able to think, able to shove aside the slick, icy panic. He was done with her. Wonderful. He'd dump her on Will and she could tell that bastard a thing or two—

"You won't be seeing Will any time soon," Jacob said, and his voice was strangely gentle, considering the fury she'd glimpsed in his eyes. Strange, that. She didn't know if she'd ever seen him angry…

Wait—what? He wasn't taking her to Will?

"No, sweet, I'm not."

For a moment, she was too surprised to think. Then, finally, she managed to say, "Haven't I told you to stay out of my head?"

"I'm not in your head, darling. You just put your thoughts and fears out there for all to see. Me, the demons, everybody. Bloody hell, a mortal with not a drop of empathy could pick up on what you're feeling. 'I hate this life, I made a bad choice and I want to undo it—would you please kill me?'"

She stared at him.

Heart still racing from the terror she'd felt earlier, the fear an ugly, slippery tangle in her belly, she shook her head. "I don't—I'm not—"

"You are." He held out a hand. "Come. I've had enough of this."

She stared at his hand.

"Enough of what?"

"I said come."

Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. "I don't care to be bossed around."

"Too sodding bad." He bent down and fisted his hand in her belt, jerking her to her feet.

"What the—you son of a bitch—"

She went to smack his hands away and he caught her wrists. The moment his bare flesh touched hers, the world exploded around her. Stunned, she tore away from him and he let her.

"What…"

The word was lost. The world was lost. She couldn't hear herself speak. Couldn't hear herself scream. And scream she did. Long and loud. But the wind tore it away from her, like it never existed.

She was foundering, faltering, falling.

Sucking in her breath, she threw out her hands, desperate for something to cling to.

The only thing she found was Jacob.

He was there.

He was solid.

He was real.

And he was warm, strong.

In the rush of ice and wind and nothing and darkness, he was there, with his arms around her, his mouth by her temple and she thought maybe, just maybe, she heard him speaking. She couldn't see him, but she knew it was him.

"Jacob?"

And this time, she heard her own voice…and his answer.

"It's time you see some things clearly, Celine. Well past time."