Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 117

Ahem… My official review…

I told her I'd already given a review of this book.  I read it.  It rocked.  It's awesome.

Now I'm telling you all.

I read this.  It rocked.  It's awesome.  You should read it.

Although if you haven't read the series, start with book 1. Otherwise?  This is out 3.27

Haven't read Stacia's books? Check them out here.

Saturday snippets…

It's all about freaks of the night...bad boys.

Everything about him was long, it seemed.

Long pale hair, worn pulled back in a queue. Long, lean face; long lean body; long, almost poetic hands. She watched as he pulled out a phone and glanced at it before turning away from her and striding off down the street, moving with an eerie, unearthly grace.

Inhuman.

Animalistic.

Werewolf . . .

He sensed her in that exact moment, which surprised the hell out of her. Most vampires developed an unusual ability as they aged, and some developed several of them. Sylvia's main skill was the ability to hide herself.

Vamps gave off vibes. She simply suppressed hers. It was a handy skill for a paid killer, especially since half of her targets were non-mortals.

But he'd still felt her.

He hid it well, but she felt his awareness all the same, heard the telltale quickening of his heart—it only lasted a few seconds before he controlled it. Impressive control, too. He moved out of the ebb and flow of people, and if she hadn't been concentrating so completely on him, she never would have seen him as he slid into the shadows, all but becoming one of them.

Oh, she did like how he moved.

Even people like them—the non-mortals—had to learn how to move like that and it wasn't something that happened overnight, or even in a few weeks or months. He had that easy, sinuous grace of somebody who knew his body, knew his surroundings.

She could just barely see him now, standing still as death in the shadows. He shouldn't be that hard to see, damn it. He was pale—he was a blond white dude, nice and tanned, but hell. He shouldn't blend with the shadows so easily. He might as well be one of them. Nothing about him moved—he didn't even seem to breathe, although she knew he needed to. Warm-blooded creatures still needed oxygen.

She made the bad mistake of looking into his eyes, and her breath caught. Blue. Soft, pale blue. Almost gentle. But there was nothing gentle about him. She knew that as well as she knew her name. Nothing gentle or soft.

And she appreciated that. She had no room for gentle or soft in her life, not even for a few moments. Sylvia wanted him—for those few moments.

Seconds ticked away as they stared at each other. Those seconds bled out into minutes and then a sour, acrid stink filled the air. Fear. Musky fear.

Resisting the urge to cover her nose, she searched the crowd from the corner of her eye and saw somebody else come out of the club just moments later. Another wolf. He didn't move quite so well, and when he saw the other man, he stumbled to a halt for a brief second before he kept on moving.

The blond wolf continued to watch her. There was something about his gaze that unnerved her. A lot. Even as need clenched through her middle.

He continued to watch her and then abruptly, he winked.

Preorder...due out 4/3.  FYI, this may not be readily available at stores so if you want it, you might want to let your local bookseller know so they can order it in.

B & N | Amazon | Indiebound | Book Depository | BAMM

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M Roth

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

TJ Michaels

Zoë Archer

Just shoot me now…

Blergh...

I'm going on a week now of being sick and I have to go see the doctor again.  Something really has my asthma jacked up.  I don't I was this bad when I had pneumonia a few years ago. What really sucks is the fact that we're supposed to be going out of town on vacation, too.

Needless to say, I'm behind on email and such. It's kind of at the point to where I'm barely dragging myself out of of bed.  Guess I'll be sleeping all vacation.

If you waiting on email responses, I haven't forgotten I have email, I promise.  I'm just sort of conserving brain power.  Oxygen.  Everything... O.o for the next couple of weeks, I'm probably going to be running on subhuman levels and I'll get caught up once vacation is over and I feel like I can breathe without a ten pound weight on my chest.

In the meantime...Hunters Jonathan and Lori is now up on Nook, Kindle, ARe, etc

ARe |  Smashwords | Kindle | Nook

Snippet time…meet the hero

So, you may or may not know that I'm wrapping up the Hunters series.  I guess it's a good enough point to do it.  Sales are slumping off and although this wasn't the way I'd planned to end it, at least it wasn't right after Nessa's book...I wanted to tell her story and I wanted to tell Toronto's story.  I got to tell both.

There are other books I wanted to write in that world, but...well.  We don't get everything we want in life, especially when sales are sliding off and it's a crazy-tight market anyway. Le sigh.

I'm going to try and send it out with a bang, though.  Between now and release day, I'm going to be posting snippets about the book.  It would be the world to me if we sent it out in style and we can do that if the supporters of the book order it. Please be aware you might not be able to find the book in the store...sales have slumped that much, so if you want it, you might want to order it from your local bookstore if you have one or order it online.

Snippet time....

meet the hero

B & N | Amazon | Indiebound | Book Depository | BAMM

 

"Come on, baby face."  The tall, slim blond brandished a knife as he squared off with the other man. His name wasToronto, and he was known for having a wicked temper, a wicked way with a blade and a smart mouth. He moved, graceful as a dancer, to face a man that outweighed him by a good fifty pounds and topped him by nearly six inches.

He was built like a tank, and he stank of blood, sex and violence.

That pissedTorontooff. A lot. He'd just pulled the bastard in front of him off a woman mere seconds ago. Now she struggled to live andToronto's partner was kneeling at her side, trying to stop the bleeding.

Curling his fingers at the vampire,Torontosaid, "Come on. What are you waiting for?"

The vampire grinned at him, too young and too stupid to realize just how much trouble he was in.

"Get out of my way, fuckhead. You don't know what you're messing with."

Torontococked a brow. The boy hadn't been Changed long. Maybe a year. He didn't stand a chance against a were likeToronto. "I don't?" Twirling his knife, he smiled. "I think it's the other way around, kid."

"You think that knife is going to hurt me?" He flashed his fangs and gaveTorontoa menacing look.

Torontowasn't quite impressed, and he had the feeling the vampire was shocked by that. And the idiot also hadn't given Tor's knife much more than a cursory look. The knife would hurt him. It was a custom-made Keltec, one that had enough silver in the blade that it would leave any vamp or shifter all but begging for mercy. It might not kill him, but it would definitely hurt. Silver was a bitch.

Yeah, this vamp hadn't been around long, and nobody had bothered to teach him much, either.Torontocould teach him a thing or two. Before he ended the son of a bitch.

"Actually, I don't need the knife."Torontoflung it off to the right with enough force that it embedded itself in the wooden wall, hilt quivering. "I'll just use this . . ."

He lifted a hand, watched the boy's face as his hand shifted.

Claws emerged.

The vampire was every bit as uneducated asTorontohad thought. What in the hell is this? Toronto wondered as he watched the vamp's eyes all but bug out of his head in shock. It was like the vamp had never seen a werewolf before.

A split second later, the young vamp panicked. It wasn't much fun when they panicked. Still,Torontohadn't done it in the name of fun—or at least not entirely. He'd been looking for information, and he had gotten a little bit.

Lately, more and more Hunters throughout the country were reporting incidents like this. That wasn't good. A shitload of random, violent occurrences. Too much bloodlust, too little control. Too many who seemed to have lost all humanity—and that wasn't how it was meant to be. Most vamps and weres had a sense of who could get through the Change intact, who couldn't. They weren't to be touched if they couldn't live through it . . . or come through it sane.

Bad things happened when monsters thought they could do whatever they wanted without fear of consequences. Like what this fucker had done. Grabbed some poor woman off the streets, assaulted her and fed.

After he'd finishing dealing with the feral, he turned back and saw his partner Kel cradling the woman. The vampire had his hand, palm sliced open, over the wound in her throat in an attempt to save her life—the blood could close the wound, keep her from bleeding to death.

If she wasn't too far gone.

She wasn't bleeding anymore, but she was too still. Too pale.

"Is she going to make it?"Torontoasked.

"I don't think so." Kel gave him a sad look. "We were too late—she's fading too fast."

Torontogave a short, single nod and looked away. She'd lost too much blood.  Fuck. Yeah, bad things happened with monsters, all right. "It happens that way sometimes."

Kel swore under his breath viciously. "Happens, huh? Fuck that."

"We can't save everybody,"Torontosaid, jerking one shoulder in a shrug. He came closer, staring at the woman's pale face. Her heartbeat was faltering, her skin taking on a waxen cast—that spark of life was already gone. She wasn't going to make it. It was an ugly, bitter knowledge they'd have to carry'.

Kel swallowed, a muscle working in his jaw as he stared at the woman's face. "Yeah, and you're okay with that?"

"It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it or not."Torontoslanted a look at Kel. "It just is. We can either accept it . . . or go crazy fighting it. But . . . no. I'm not okay with it. It fucking pisses me off. And that won't help her, either."

Kel continued to stare at her, his eyes glowing. "I could . . ."

Torontoknew what he was planning even before he said it. "I wouldn't, kid." He crouched down, studying the woman.

"But it would save her."

"No."Torontoreached down and took the girl's limp, cooling hand. "She'd either die in the transition or she'd go feral. You don't want to save her only to have to kill her, Kel."

"You don't know that."

"Maybe. Maybe not. That's not my area, right? But you know." He paused and then asked quietly, "What's your gut saying, Kel?"

Kel's furious glare was answer enough. He knew. She wasn't strong enough to survive the Change. Not everybody was.

It only took a few more seconds.

Torontopretended not to see the faint glint of reddish tears in Kel's eyes. He pretended not to notice the ache in his own chest, too.

No. They couldn't save everybody.

Hell, some of them were hard-pressed to save themselves.

He'd been trying to save himself for a good long time. He was still trying. And failing.

Preorder...

B & N | Amazon | Indiebound | Book Depository | BAMM

 

Talk about a silent release…

Finished working on this sooner than I expected but thought there was no rush cuz I still needed the cover.

But...well, I haz that too.

"You want a fairy tale prince. I'm the monster from the fairy tale."

Lori isn't looking for a prince and sexy werewolf Jonathan isn't a monster.  Very often he can be pigheaded and he has more than his share of personal demons.  But a monster?  Not quite.

Of course, Lori, the local healer, knows he's not going to believe that.  He looks at himself and sees that monster from a fairy tale. He looks at her and sees somebody sweet and innocent.

When an attack on the local band of Hunters drive them together, Jonathan can feel his control shattering.  He's unable to keep his hands off the woman he's wanted for so long, but at the same time, he knows he doesn't deserve her.

Lori has her hands full , too...dealing with their enemies, dealing with him, dealing with his demons...trying to convince him to give their love a chance.  Before it's too late.  Before both of them lose everything...

FYI, the price on this one will be $3.49.  That's a bit higher than the others, but this one is longer and it also needed more work than the other two.  Basically that's what I'm going off of when I price the ebooks.  How much time was invested in them and even re-issued ebooks do require time.  But still, that's cheap!

I'll get info about the various platforms once it's up and ready.  Also...

Watch the pages on Amazon, BN, etc for HUNT ME and HUNTERS DECLAN AND TORI.

I'm dropping the prices on those for a little while to celebrate the release of HUNTER'S RISE.

Back Jonnie & Lori...

They are at ARe & Smashwords now.  Will update once Amazon & BN clears them through (FYI...that's up to them, not me)

ARe |  Smashwords

PUH-LEEZE… stop it…BOOKS ARE NOT BABIES

Gah.  I'm seeing it again.

Don't you know that books are the author's babies?

No. NO. NO. NO. NONONONONONO.

People who are saying this, think it through to completion.

I carried those kids in my belly for nine months, each.  This doesn't include the child I lost halfway through my pregnancy, a child I'll mourn for the rest of my life.

Can you say that about a book?  Well, you may work on a book a long time, but the book generally doesn't cause morning sickness, swollen ankles, acne issues, sore breasts, hormonal swings,etc.  And while a book may suddenly just stop in the middle, many of those books can be brought back to life, if you go back to them.  You can't say that about a lost child.

When I lost her, I grieved, cried, and was pretty much a bloody wreck for a long time. And please don't even think about comparing a book to the loss of a child. There is no comparison.

With my other three...I'll be a bloody wreck for the rest of my life, even as they bring me joy every single day.  I'm responsible for their well-being, for their health, for their happineness, for their safety...and...get this...I'm responsible for their actions so if they endanger others around them (this isn't likely, but still...you get the picture, and yes, I'm responsible there, too.  Can you say that about a book?

Nope.

I labored for hours and (FYI, getting gross), flesh ripped when they were born.  Blood. Nasty stuff.  I'm a nurse, I can go into detail if you want.  Can you say that a book about a book?  We may sweat and feel like we're losing blood, but nobody has ever had a perineal tear over a book. FYI, that link involves frank discussion about the flesh that rips during child birth.  Yep.  Rips.  People wanna keep comparing books to babies, we might as well lay it all out there.

I went through the pain of learning how to nurse... if you've never nursed, guess what...the first week or so usually sucks because tender flesh has to toughen up.  Do you do that with a book?  No.  But some writers probably should go through a training phase where they toughen up...it could help cut down on some of this books-are-babies crap.

I went through the long, sleepless nights as my kids were babies and when they are sick, I still do it.  When I get a call from school, I have to fight that temporary urge to panic, because...what if... and most moms can fill in that what if.  I don't do this over books.  I panic over my career, all the time, which is why I keep my nursing license active, but still. It's not the same as wondering...oh, hell.  Don't let it be something bad--

I ache when they sick, I cry silently inside when they are sad.  My daughter is going through her first crush and it isn't not going well, and my heart hurts almost like it was my first crush.    I don't mourn for my books, even when I'm told a series is ending, the way I grieve and ache for the hurts my children get, just going through life.

I suffer through their disappointments, I cheer with their triumphs.  Their every pain is mine.  I'd take on their illnesses, I'd give up my happiness for them.  Would I do this for my books?  Hell, no.  I want my books to be my triumph, damn it.  I don't want to give up mine for them.

I would lay down my life for my kids...and I'd do it gladly.

A book? Nope...as a matter of fact, if somebody was shooting at me, I'd gladly hold my books up and hope it may help.  Not that it would.

With a book, it goes like this.

Oh!  Shiny idea!

Write write write...oh.  This is dumb.  Stupid. I hate you. No, wait.  I love you. Oh. No.  I hate you...write, write, write.  Edit. Edit.  I HATE THIS THING.

And then?  It's done.  And oh, wait...SHINY IDEA! And it starts again.

And in no way shape or form, would I ever die for one of my damned books.

People. Stop this shit.

It's insulting to motherhood.

I'm a mom and I'm a writer.  I'm damned proud to call myself both.

Do I work hard at both?

Yes.

Writing is a creative endeavor that few people who aren't writers can understand.

Likewise...motherhood is something that few who aren't moms can truly understand, although many, many people do understand that a loving mother will happily die for her child.

I think one thing that really irks me?  You're placing a book...an inanimate object (yes, yes, we know they have power and bring pleasure to many) but you're saying it's got the same value as a human life.  Um.  No.

Sorry. Insult my books all you want.  Attack my kids?  We've got a different fight entirely on our hands...and I fight dirty.

Books can hold up to the criticism!  Look at Shakespeare!  Look at Austin!  Books rock and it doesn't matter if haters hate on them...let them hate.

Both are awesome. Both are precious.  But children are infinitely more so.

**After much eye-rolling... I want to add in a clarification here.  Somebody on twitter thinks I take this issue of people comparing books to babies 'personally' and she thinks it's I take it as an attack on me because of the loss of my child.

Nah, I found it pretty stupid way before that and I'm fairly certain if anybody wanted to take the time to dig through yahoo groups or my blog before 2005, you could probably even find the proof of that. However, I'm too lazy to do it because it frankly doesn't matter that much.

I'd also like to point out that I have a very dry, very sarcastic sense of humor.  Many of you who are familiar with my blog probably recognize where the humor is in this post.  If not, well, almost all of it is laughable because we're talking about the comparisons between books and babies.

People, while I appreciate the kind words re: the loss of our little girl and while it's still a wound, it's also just a fact of life.  I'm pretty open about addressing things as I see them and that's how this...I call it as I see it.  This isn't a call for sympathy and in all honesty, I'd rather you not focus on it.  It makes it too easy for me to dwell on it and that's not good for me.

To sum it up... here is my issue.  Too often, people use the phrase... books are the author's babies and you shouldn't ever say something negative.  That's the thing... they use it to shut people up.  To keep them from voicing their opinion over fear of hurting somebody's feelings.  Over a book.  That the author put out there for public consumption... the book is the author's baby...you can't say anything negative.

And to that, I go.  O.o Seriously?

Snippet time…contest (updated)

So, you may or may not know that I'm wrapping up the Hunters series.  Sticky post...read below for newer posts. (contest)

I guess it's a good enough point to do it.

Sales are slumping off and although this wasn't the way I'd planned to end it, at least it wasn't right after Nessa's book...I wanted to tell her story.  I wanted to tell Toronto's story.  I got to tell both.

There are other books I wanted to write in that world, but...well.  We don't get everything we want in life, especially when sales are sliding off and it's a crazy-tight market anyway. Le sigh.

Here's a good long peek at the book...and a chance to enter for a goody bag giveaway at the end.

Excerpt

It was frustrating as hell, he decided, to have a woman only a couple of dozen yards away, sitting in a hot tub full of water, a woman he wanted like he wanted to breathe, and knowing she'd laugh at him if he tried to go to her.

You won't be seducing me . . .

She meant it.

No grabby hands—

Shit. She'd given him the back-off and he had to respect that. Until he could get her to change her mind.

About the grabby hands thing, the seducing her thing, because damn it, if he didn't have a taste of her, he'd lose his mind.

"You already have," he muttered.

Determined to distract himself, he grabbed the phone and put in a call to Rafe while he went about making himself something to eat  If he couldn't stae one hunger, he'd sate the other. A quick rundown about what had happened and he threw the name Kit in there.

"The only Kit I'm familiar with is a werewolf inChicago—married to the Master there."

"No. It's a male—he's involved in this somehow."

Rafe was quiet. "Okay. We'll start looking around."

That managed to take up a whopping three minutes. Scowling, he stabbed at his steak as he flipped it over the grill. It was still rare when he was finished with it and that was how he wanted it. If he hadn't had Sylvia here, he would have gone hunting for his meal—he ached for it, but he didn't think it would do his seduction efforts any good if he went and ran down a deer and then tried to seduce her.

Not that she would be very surprised. She was a damned vampire.

But he was going to play the gentleman, eat his damned steak and then pretend to be a nice host—

Shit. This was going to try his control like nothing had done in years. Grumbling under his breath, he dumped the steak on a plate and cut into it, eating at the counter and trying to figure out the best way to handle Ms. Sylvia James. So far, they were working together okay. Right?

Two nights in and they hadn't tried to kill each other. She hadn't tried to strangle him or anything. That was practically a record. Sadly, he brought out the worst in people and had been known to provoke them after only a few hours. Usually on purpose, so he could be on his own once more. He liked working with her, though.

And they were slowly finding out information. The problem was they weren't finding it out fast and while he knew it worked that way, he could see the echoes of demons in her eyes. Something was pushing her hard on this case and he didn't know what.

Every now and then, he caught a glimpse of something in her eyes—something dark and achingly sad. Like earlier. It wasn't just sympathy for Pulaski's victims, although God knew, that would be enough.

There wasn't a level in hell hot enough for monsters like that one.  Of course,Torontohad no problem trying to think up perfectly painful, brutal deaths, even knowing they wouldn't be bad enough.

But first they had to find him and figure out what he'd done with his victims.

Hearing a footstep, he looked up as he popped the last bite of the steak into his mouth. And he almost choked when he saw her standing there. Dumping the plate on the counter, he grabbed a glass of water he'd poured earlier and gulped it down like he was dying of thirst.

She was wearing one of his shirts.

Fuck, what was it about a woman in a man's shirt, anyway? How could they look so good in a stupid T-shirt?

"Hey." She leaned against the wall, a sly little smile on her lips, her hair hanging in damp, clinging ropes around her shoulders and back. "I guess I should have asked you, but I needed a shirt. I don't usually pack pajamas."

"Ah . . ."

Pushing off the wall, she shrugged a shoulder and said, "Can't really wander around here naked, right?"

Naked. She couldn't wander around here naked? Skimming his eyes over her lush curves, the sleek muscles, he met her eyes. "If I say I want the shirt back, does that mean you'll wander around naked? If so, I'm very tempted to tell you that you can't have the shirt."

The smile on her mouth widened. "Can I get some water?"

"Sure." Water. He needed to get her water. And then he needed to get his hands busy. Otherwise he was going to think about trying to touch her, even though she'd told him to back off. He had to go about this differently. Had to actually work at the seduction thing, and he'd probably have to work overtime since she was determined that he wouldn't be seducing her. As he grabbed a glass, he noticed that his fingers were shaking.

This woman had him shaking.

This is bad. He had to get a grip.

After getting her some water from the fridge, he turned around and held it out. Was it his imagination or was there a devilish glint in those liquid, dark eyes? Her fingers brushed his as she accepted the glass and that slight touch sent a burning jolt through him.

Hell. He needed to get some distance between them and try to wrestle his body back under control.

Try. Turning around, he gripped the marble counter with one hand and tried to yank his body back under the chokehold of control, the one he had to use on nights of the full moon when he couldn't shift—that iron control that he could command, when he needed it.

But he was failing.

Hell. He needed to get out of here. Out of here, away from her . . . clear his head. He'd shift and go for a run. A good hard run would help. It always did. Taking the edge off was the best thing for him. Actually, that needed to be the first thing he did—

Mind made up, he forced himself to let go of the counter so he could gather up the dishes from his meal. Still not looking in Sylvia's direction, he rinsed the few dishes off and put them in the dishwasher. He had somebody come out once a month and clean for him, but that didn't include doing the dishes.

Cleaning up after himself was a necessity, even if he was suddenly in a mad hurry to get out of there. Werewolves, like other shifters, like the vamps, tended to be pretty fastidious. It was a side effect of having overly sensitive noses.

"Can you go ahead and feed? I need to go for a run and I won't be back before the sun rises." He kept his eyes focused on the mundane chore of straightening up, although it really didn't require that much attention. If he was looking at his hands, he wasn't going to be looking at her, though, and he needed to avoid looking at her. Especially since she needed to feed . . . fuck.

There was a whisper—a familiar one—of cotton against flesh.

Turning his head slightly, he watched something black and soft fall to the floor.

His T-shirt.

His heart jumped into his throat, lodged there for about five seconds and made it impossible to breathe. Then it settled back in his chest, beating about two hundred beats a minute, he figured as he shut the dishwasher, still staring at the puddle of black cotton on the floor in front of him.

His palms were sweating as he lifted his head and stared at Sylvia, standing eighteen inches away, wearing nothing more than her damp hair and that devilish, cocky little smile.

"I don't get seduced," she said quietly. "I might decide to seduce somebody, or I might just decide to have wild and crazy sex with them. But I don't get seduced."

She closed the distance between them and reached out, trailed her fingers along the front of his shirt. "You still want to go for a run,Toronto?"

He couldn't speak. For the life of him, he couldn't say a damn word.

So instead, he gathered that dark, silky hair in one hand and slanted his mouth over hers. As she met his kiss, he wrapped his free arm around her waist and hauled her against him. Naked, her skin still warm from the bath, she fit him perfectly, those amazing curves aligning next to his body like she'd been made for him.

He growled against her lips as she rocked against him.

"I thought you said no grabby hands," he muttered against her mouth.

"I wasn't being completely honest . . . I planned to do plenty of grabbing. I just wanted to do it my way." She pulled back a fraction, staring into his eyes, clear challenge written on her face. "Is that a problem?"

She was in his arms, naked. "Hell, no."

Preorder...

 B & N | Amazon | Indiebound | Book Depository | BAMM

UTA: And here's where that... (I reserve the right to modify/change/end contests) thing comes in handy.  I ended up sick.  Really sick and I can't keep up with maintaining the long, drawn-out contest that I was planning, so instead of that, we'll just make this a nice, long, drawn-out contest thread that will run until 4/10... comment to enter, and one person will be drawn for the goody-bag giveaway.

Winner's name will be posted the week of 4/24.

Spread the word...comment, chat away about it.  Every comment in regards to the upcoming release will be entered into a giveaway to be given away (that's a tongue twister) after release week.  One comment per blog post will be entered, so while I love it if you want to chat endlessly, you only get one entry per blog post and the contests will only be related to Hunter's Rise.

Check the disclaimer-please.  I lose more contest winners this way because people don't realize they have to check back to see if they've won. I don't contact you.  You have to check back and an easy way to watch that is to sign up for the blogger feed by clicking that nifty little fire icon up above my header.

Snippet time…

So, you may or may not know that I'm wrapping up the Hunters series.  I guess it's a good enough point to do it.

Sales are slumping off and although this wasn't the way I'd planned to end it, at least it wasn't right after Nessa's book...I wanted to tell her story and I wanted to tell Toronto's story.  I got to tell both.

There are other books I wanted to write in that world, but...well.  We don't get everything we want in life, especially when sales are sliding off and it's a crazy-tight market anyway. Le sigh.

I'm going to try and send it out with a bang, though.  Between now and release day, I'm going to be posting snippets about the book.  It would be the world to me if we sent it out in style and we can do that if the supporters of the book order it. Please be aware you might not be able to find the book in the store...sales have slumped that much, so if you want it, you might want to order it from your local bookstore if you have one or order it online.

Snippet time....

meet the heroine

"The one thing I wanted him to do was die. And he wouldn't. I mean, he had that fucking heart attack and I thought, finally, this is over. And what happens?"

Bent over her drink, the brunette smiled a little as she listened to the conversation between the two women. Maybe it was morbid of her—it was definitely a morbid discussion to eavesdrop on, but gloomy bits like that were one of the few things that amused her.

Her name was Sylvia . . . at least for now. She toyed with her glass of wine without drinking more than a sip every few minutes, more focused on the discussion than her drink.

"Oh, come on, Faith. He'll die, sooner or later. We all do, right?"

Faith, a pretty blonde with pretty blue eyes and pretty curls and pretty, plump breasts shifted on her seat and sighed. "Um, this is about him. And he's not going fast enough. I'd like him to kick it early enough that I can still enjoy my life before I'm too damned old and ugly. Damn it, this wasn't what I'd planned on."

Idiot. Sylvia set her wineglass down and checked her purse once more. The woman was an idiot. That's all there was to it. Shifting around just a little, she studied the friend. The poor woman looked uncomfortable, but she was trying to hide it.

Faith didn't even seem to notice as she leaned in after a quick glance around the bar—it wasn't even a subtle glance. "That's why we're here. I'm looking to meet this . . . person. Apparently she takes care of problems."

"Problems?" The friend was looking more and more nervous with every passing second, Sylvia noticed.

Smart girl.

Some people talked about doing stupid shit.

Others actually tried to go through with it. Faith was dumb enough, arrogant enough to try and go through with it.

"Yeah." Faith worked up a convincing little sob. "He hits me. All the time. He doesn't leave marks, because he likes to show me off. But I'm so tired of being hurt . . ."

"Faith, you're not . . ." Her friend tried to laugh, but it fell flat. In the end, she just cleared her throat and asked, "What are you talking about?"

A cold glint appeared in Faith's eyes. "Doing what's necessary. And it's not like I can divorce him, either. There's that damn prenup and everything. And if I screw around on him? I'm screwed."

"Look, this isn't funny." Her friend didn't just look nervous now; she looked outright sick. "I know you don't much care for the guy, so just divorce him. If you disliked him that much, you never should have married him."

She reached into her purse and grabbed some money, threw it down on the table. "You can sit here and feel sorry for yourself alone. I don't want to—"

Faith snaked out a hand, curling it around the other woman's wrist. "Sit down," she said, her voice cold. "You think I called you just so you could whimper and whine? I need somebody with me tonight and it's going to be you."

"I don't want to be with you," the other woman snapped, trying to jerk away.

"Tough shit." The smile on Faith's face now was cold. Cold, mean and ugly. "Because if you're not, I'm going to spill your secrets."

The woman went white.

"Faith, this is insane." The woman was trying not to cry now. "Just divorce him or something. You can't . . . you're going to . . ."

"I'm just trying to make sure I have a nice, easy life." Faith shrugged, unconcerned. "Just like you have a nice, easy life. It's only fair."

Fair. Fair? The absurdity of the conversation was almost enough to make Sylvia choke on the wine. Except she'd actually heard more absurd shit in her long life. After all, she was an assassin—very often, people didn't have good reasons for wanting to see another person dead.

"Fair . . ." Sylvia lowered her glass of wine to the bar and spun around, studying the blonde and her friend. "Life really doesn't have a great deal to do with being fair, does it?"

"Excuse me?"

Sylvia James leaned back against the bar and crossed her legs, an amused smile on her lips, keeping a hand on her purse. "I mean, if you wanted to talk about fair, we could talk about the fact that it wouldn't be unfair to expect a woman to actually abide by the vows she took."

Faith went white, and then red. Not quite so pretty now that she was pissed. Sylvia smiled. She was going to make the woman even angrier shortly.

Next to Faith, her friend squirmed uncomfortably. "Hey, lady, we're just . . ."

"You, my dear, were just avoiding a whole shitload of trouble," Sylvia said, resting an elbow on the bar, flicking her a glance before looking back at Faith. "You, on the other hand . . ."

"Bitch, why don't you mind your own business?" Faith narrowed her eyes.

"My own business?" Arching a brow, she slid off the stool and sauntered closer to the table the women shared. "Maybe we should just get down to business then . . . ?" Without waiting for an answer, she reached into her purse and withdrew a small digital recorder, hit the play button.

Faith's voice, recorded two days ago, came out.

And Sylvia didn't need supersensitive hearing to hear Faith's breath catch as her eyes darted to the recorder and then back up to Sylvia's face.

"Now, Ms. Dwyer, what were you saying about minding my own business?" With one hand resting on her purse, she leaned over the table, peering into Faith's dazed eyes. "You called me. I told you I'd be here. I told you to take precautions. I told you to be discreet. I also told you . . . no lies."

She paused and sipped her wine, studying the dark red liquid, desperately wishing it was something else. "Now I've been sitting here for twenty minutes. You weren't discreet. You didn't take precautions. And . . ." She drew her voice out, studying the woman through her lashes, watching as the blood slowly drained from Faith Dwyer's face. "You lied to me."

Preorder...

 B & N | Amazon | Indiebound | Book Depository | BAMM

Spread the word...comment, chat away about it.  Every comment in regards to the upcoming release will be entered into a giveaway to be given away (that's a tongue twister) after release week.  One comment per blog post will be entered, so while I love it if you want to chat endlessly, you only get one entry per blog post and the contests will only be related to Hunter's Rise.

So... have at it.

How do you feel about a series ending?  Sometimes they have to.  I hate that it's now, but it happens.  That's life.

Check the disclaimer-please.  I lose more contest winners this way because people don't realize they have to check back to see if they've won. I don't contact you.  You have to check back and an easy way to watch that is to sign up for the blogger feed by clicking that nifty little fire icon up above my header.

True story about me and Lynn Viehl

This is a tweet from last night...

from me:

@SpazP I see I've successfully created another Darkyn addict. Some of the best (if not THE best) vampires ever.

her response:

 @shilohwalker SRSLY!! I'm starting the 3rd book as soon as I can! Thesea re sooooo my kinda books

Yes. I think one of my life's missions is to convert as many people as possible into Viehl addicts. Stardoc. Darkyn. The Gena Hale/Jessica Hall books. All of them. Because they are awesome and nobody writes like her.

So...have I converted you yet? If not...step into my parlor...(or her parlor)...whichever.  Just try her.  This is a good one to start with.

 

Street Team

So, I originally planned on doing this through my newsletter, but logistically, I don't think it will work.

Also... my newsletter had a FUBAR moment and those who were originally set up to be on my street team?  They are no longer listed correctly, so if you were set up to be on there? And you still wanna be?  Info down below from the notice that went out to those who managed to survive the fubar thing with the newsletter.

 

You're receiving this because you signed up to be on my street team-which is basically helping get the word out about my books.

I've decided it will be easier to discuss and bounce ideas around via a yahoo group.

If you are interested in joining, please visit

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ShilohWalkerStreetTeam/

and request to join.  You will need a yahoo ID to join, but this will not be overly active group.

There may be periods of activity when I'm doing promo for upcoming releases, etc. However, I don't expect it to be too chatty.

All street team announcements and work will be coordinated through the yahoo list so if you are interested, you will need to join the yahoo group.

Please be aware anybody who joins the street team will be asked to help spread the word about upcoming releases, etc.

In exchange, there will be opportunities for early reads on select books or other perks, but only for those who are willing to help get the word out about books.

Due to increased postal costs and other costs, I do ask that only those interested and willing to help join the group.

The perks will only be offered to those who are able to meet the obligations.

Examples of what may be asked include passing out bookmarks, blogging about upcoming releases, etc.

If that is you, please follow the above link and request an invite. It will ask for a reason why you to join.  If you blog, please include a link to your blog.  If you're not an active blogger, then let me know what else you'd be interested in doing to spread the word about my books.