Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 118

Saturday Snippets…Club & Party Scene

Well, they are just outside a bar...and it's a Hunter's sort of party. Where bad & bloody things happen. Sigh. Going to miss this world.

A faint smile curved the lush pink of her mouth, left him wondering what she was thinking. Then somebody came tumbling out of the bar next to her, spilling bright lights of blue and red onto the sidewalk, andToronto had a better idea.

As the rainbow of lights flickered off the blade she'd concealed in her left hand, he studied the crush of people around them. It wasn't as crowded here as it was just a few streets over on Beale, but it was still crowded enough.

Not the ideal place for a fight. He'd done it before and managed to avoid human casualties, but he suspected that Sylvia James was a different breed from what he was used to. Ferals fought to live, so they could kill—by nature, most of them weren't always clearheaded. Sylvia, like him, was a trained killer. She would be clearheaded. It would make a difference.

He hunted the ferals.

She hunted for money.

In the end, he'd win, because he was stronger.

But he didn't want to have to fight her. He wanted to have sex with her—down and dirty sex, maybe up against a wall, in the light so he could watch her. Then on a bed, her body under his, or over . . . his hands tangled in that dark, silken hair.

"You know, most men would at least bother to introduce themselves before the guy starts picturing the woman naked," she drawled, coming to a stop eighteen inches away.

Torontosmirked. "That's bullshit. We see a woman, we frequently picture them naked. We mess with the names when we want to actually think about getting them in bed. Some of us, at least." He skimmed a look over her body, taking in the sleek muscles, the powerhouse curves. Then he focused on her face again, smiled slowly. "So. What's your name?"

She laughed. "Oh, you're smooth. Too bad I'm only in town for a little while."

"Business?"

"Hmmm." She cocked a black brow at him. "Am I interrupting something important? You sounded sort of aggravated on the phone."

"You like listening to private conversations?"

With a lazy shrug, she sauntered around him.Torontotracked her movements by watching her reflection in the window of the nearest bar. As she circled back around in front of him, he checked her knife hand. Still in the left hand, tucked out of sight so nobody would see it unless they were looking for it. She was very, very good.

He was just better.

I mentioned a few days ago, it looks like this will be the final Hunter book.  You can read more about it here.

And I'd love it if you sent it off with a bang and preordered it...

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

Other authors out on the snippet line...

 

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Eliza Gayle

Lissa Matthews

Mandy M Roth

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

Shelli Stevens

TJ Michaels

DABWAHA…vote for Puck & Ezra (and me)

Pretty please?

Your lovely votes got me into the first round and I love you (well, I'd love you anyway), but now can I pretty please beg you to help me go further?

I'm up against stiff competition. Julie James is the first round. Would you help me?

If you won't help me, would you do it for Puck?

image via Doggie Stylish

How about Puck and Ezra?  (I asked Lena for a picture of the two of them... okay, okay, Smexy found me the picture here, but this is an awesome depiction of them)

Will you give him your vote? Because a vote for me is a vote for Puck & Ezra!

Voting starts today and will take place at the DABWAHA blog...

 

Snippet...

Bad idea, very bad idea, he told himself.  Friends, remember?  Just friends.

"Yeah, and as a friend, I can go out there and see how she is doing, right?  I mean, after the weekend she had, what could it hurt?" Ezra muttered to himself.

Trying to talking himself out of that idea, trying to cool the need, the fire in his gut, he decided to stop by the store.   His last grocery store run, he'd been distracted—and without a list.  Today, he was still distracted, and still without a list, but one thing he'd realized he needed was deodorant so he made himself stop before leaving town.

He made it halfway through the store, congratulated himself for not thinking about Lena. But as he stopped in the microscopic health and beauty section—crap, why did they put men's deodorant in the beauty section—he found himself in front of the display of condoms.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He did not need condoms for a friendly relationship.

SIGNING in Madison...

That Book Place

Madison, IN

3.17.2011

11-1

Randomisity

My first pitiful plea... the #dabwaha voting for IF YOU HEAR HER starts tomorrow.  I'd love it if you voted for me.  You can do it here...

And Puck would love it if you voted for me. See? Puppy puck!

Image via dooziedog

Now Lena didn't get him until he was older, but still.  Cute puppy!

Snippet!

"I kind of like having you around, Ezra. I think I like it a lot."

His laugh was dry, self-deprecating. "You know how to stroke a guy's ego, gorgeous, you know that? I tell you I think I might be falling in love with you and you tell me you like having me hang around."

"Your ego doesn't need stroking." Slipping her arms around his neck, she said, "Slow. We need to go slow with this, because it's majorly unfamiliar territory for me. But…well, even with the mind-blowing sex, if I didn't have feelings for you, what you're telling me would have me so freaked out, I'd be all but shoving you out the door. But you're still here. Does that count for anything?"

He nipped her chin. "For now. Yeah." Then he sighed. "You still insist on going to work?"

"Yes."

"Shit." Nudging her off his lap, he said, "Fine. I'm driving you. I'm picking you up. If anybody says one wrong thing to you, tell Puck to eat him."

Did you read my story A STROKE OF DUMB LUCK? If so, I've fiddled with another one in that world.  Well, two of them.  The question is selling them.  I've got a little of it up on Book Country. You can read some of it without being a member.  If you log in, you can read the first two chapter and rate it and stuff.

And now...cover.

Stand alone.  Due out in October.  Excerpt here.

ETA: More RANDOM stuff...

Booksigning this Saturday in Madison, Indiana...

That Book Place

Madison, IN

3.17.2011

11-1

PSA: Dear Men…it's not the romance books

 

If you and your female companion are having problems in your relationship and she's reading lots and lots of romance books, you might want to blame the romance books.

FYI...a healthy, happy relationship isn't going to go on the rocks because of a bunch of romance books.  It's just not.  In fact, a healthy, happy relationship can actually be enhanced by said romance books, but that's not the point of this PSA.

Relationships take work, on both sides, and there is just no way around this.  My guy and I have been together for almost 21 years now-this summer will mark the 16th anniversary of our wedding and in no way has it been easy.  But we're happy.  We take the bumpy days along with the beautiful ones and we never once forget the fact that we promised for better or worse and we never expected the I do to mean it's all smooth sailing from here.

Marriages require work.  But a healthy, happy one isn't going to go down the tubes because she reads. Or because he reads.  And she isn't going to expect you turn into a strapping 6'2 dude with six pack abs, a smoldering stare, etc, etc.  Really, because we also don't expect we'll turn into the heroine we're reading about.

Think about it...if you read, are you expecting to turn into whatever character you read about?  Think you'll put down the book and your wife has suddenly presto-chango'd herself into the female de jour of the book?

Or if you play video games, are you going to turn into whatever character of your choice may be?

It's make believe.  And it's outright silliness to think a normal, well-adjusted woman expects anything out of a fictional book except enjoyment.

*all opinions, all mine, your opinion may vary, but I've yet to meet a woman who honestly thought reading a book was going to make her husband morph into Christian/Wrath/Roarke/Mr. Darcy/Romeo/etc, etc, etc

**rant inspired by comments in this piece here.

Writer Wednesday… Berinn Rae

What's the one thing that remains unchanged during your writing process, from one book to another? (ie: Intensive plotting? Music?)

A: I never go anywhere without my faithful Moleskine journal to jot down notes and ideas that pop up at a stop light, in the check-out line, or in the middle of the night. I keep my storyboards, character bios, you name it, in that little thing.

What's the one piece of advice you'd give a new writer?

A: Finish the dang manuscript. So quit talking about it and finish it already. FINISH IT.

What's the one piece of advice you wish was wiped from the minds of writers everywhere?

A: "You should do it this way…" Screw that. Just because someone's giving you advice doesn't make her an expert—or that her advice will work for your own, personal writing process.

What's the one book you think everybody, writer or not, should read?

A: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams. It was through that book I learned the answer to the great question of life, the universe and everything.

Wanna do the Writer Wednesday? Check it out here...

So long to a series…

So I have sad news.  Berkley isn't buying any more Hunter books.  At this point, it looks like Hunter's Rise will be the final book.

Sales have been dropping off and when that happens, publishers just aren't too keen to keep on buying.  Writers love words but numbers often dictate how do things and this is one of those instances.  Numbers made the call here and mine have just sucked lately.  When the sales aren't there, things like this happen.

It kind of sucks because I had a really cool idea to reboot things and flip it on it's head.

Now I don't know what I'll do with it.  Before people rush to offer suggestions, please keep in mind I'm familiar with them...I'm not ruling out the idea of going digital with it again, but this series reboot would be pretty complex and longer, more complex ideas aren't always the easiest things to do with my epubs.  Self publishing it isn't ideal because it's a lot of hard work and there's very little guarantee of making much money.

I also have to work in whatever I do around the projects I plan to fill my plate with and longer projects aren't always doable.  This would be a longer project.

I very much appreciate all the readers who've supported the series over the years.  If at any point I can continue with it, I'll be sure to update the news here at my site.

In the meantime, if you can send it off with a bang, I'd very much appreciate it.

As with most of my Hunter books, this one works wonderfully as a standalone and it won't matter if you haven't read the other books in the series.  You can read an excerpt here or you can preorder at any of the links below.

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

IF YOU winner…

Winner of the IF YOU contest...

@CrystalGB via twitter.

Crystal, I need you to email me...you can use the the contact button on the blog. Keep in mind, you have two weeks to contact me or the prize is forfeit, and per my blog rules, I do not redraw for prizes.

Thanks to all who entered!

Manic Monday

I should be flying home as you read this.  I hope.

Last Monday was a snow day.  We had a two hour delay and I was woken up by the dulcet tones of the baby bratlet who came in to tell me:

"Mama, no matter how hard I try, I can't get the boogers out of my nose."

Thank you for that.  O.o

I spent the day dealing with rescheduling appointments.  I couldn't get my massage apointment because of the snow day so I'm probably going to be very cranky by the time I get in there.  Therapeutic massage is not fun.  It's painful and it's necessary, but it's not fun.

Bratlet needs her braces adjusted.  Couldn't do that either.

I have half a book to rewrite, so that is how I plan to spend the flight.

I'm hoping like crazy a new trilogy I've put together will sell.  Maybe I'll have news soon.

I'm also trying to think of a donation or drive thing for the tornado victims in my area, but I'm wanting to do something that will help the immediate needs, not end up in a national relief fund.  I know they do a lot of good, but when it's something this close to home-and I mean as in just miles, I can't help but want to make sure what I do is going to go right into the communities.

Two books due out next month, so trying to figure out promo for that.  Um...yay?

I've gotten a lot of good feedback on the Ash trilogy. And I mean lot. As in blow-me-away a lot.  A few people weren't as happy with it, and I was prepared for that, but most of you have been overwhelmingly supportive and I can't express my thanks enough.  FRAGILE and BROKEN have always seemed to be my biggest hits, but I think the Ash books are going to surpass them.  Thanks for all the support and feedback.

And my brain is dead.  Think good thoughts on my flight back.  I'm sure I'll be ready to collapse and rest for a few days and hug my kids.  And I know my mom is going to be ready for a break from them... *G*

Yay!!! You all got me into the DABWAHA…

Thank you!

Go look!

http://dabwaha.wordpress.com/category/finalists/

Um... now, if you wanna fill out a bracket and stuff, you can win some of the fantastic prizes.  And be warned, I'll be begging and pleading for votes.  It's going to be hard, because I'm already up against tough competition, Julie James, who I love and adore...and I wanna beat her. O.o

Thank you all!

Voting doesn't start for a few days, but if you want to get in on the prizes, you do have to fill out your brackets and stuff now, just so you know and there are a lot of awesome prizes.

 

Saturday Snippets…

Character Sass is the name of the game today.  We've got that.  And some steam.  O.o

Even before she saw the moonlight shining off his pale hair, she knew.

He was down there, in the backyard, waiting for her. And damn it. He'd hauled her bike out. Bastard. He was leaning against it, leather stretching over those long thighs, a black T-shirt clinging to his lean chest. He had that blond hair pulled back in a neat tail at the nape of his neck, and he looked good enough to eat. In many, many ways.

Her fangs pulsed.

Lower, much lower, other things pulsed. Because she knew he'd be aware, she figured she'd hide one hunger within another. Standing in the open window frame, keeping her knife hand free, she murmured, "Oh, look. It's Meals on Wheels."

He grinned at her. And then he leaped. Sylvia fell back, moving away from the window even as part of her wished she could stand there and just watch him move—

She pulled another knife, but didn't bother hiding that one. He'd go for the one she'd left in open view, she hoped.

He came through the window, almost silent, a grin on his lips, his blue eyes glinting with humor. That hot, rich scent of his flooded her head and suddenly, she had to swallow. It was that, or start drooling.

"Delivery service." She waggled her knife at him. "I like that."

"That mouth of yours ever get you in trouble, Sylvia?"

She shrugged lazily. "A time or two. You know, I don't like strangers touching my bike." Actually, she didn't like anybody touching her bike. "What's your name?"

Instead of answering, his eyes dropped to her knife. "You know, if you greeted the real Meals on Wheels that way, we'd have a problem."

"Well, since you're not actually on the menu, it's not an issue." She eyed him narrowly. He wasn't armed. Or at least, he wasn't holding any weapons. He probably had weapons. He wouldn't go out to Hunt without them. But he wasn't holding any. She could see his hands, open. Empty. Unlike hers.

Although, hello, he was a werewolf—in a matter of seconds, he turned into a fucking weapon.

"I hadn't exactly planned to be on the menu." He slanted his gaze to hers, a slow smile curling his lips. "But if you're hungry . . . just put away your blades."

Blades—

Shit. He was good.

Sighing, she tucked them away. He wasn't here to fight. If he was, they'd already be at it—she'd be bloodied, battered, and hopefully, she could at least mark up that pretty face of his a little before he killed her. Still, she was pretty certain that wasn't what he wanted out of her.

"Would you just go away?" she said, combing her hands through her hair. She needed a shower. She needed to change. And she was twenty miles away from the place she was renting. "I've got a job to do."

He lifted a wrist. "Are you hungry?"

Sylvia couldn't have been any more surprised if he'd sprouted a second head. That hunger tried to grab her by the throat, but she'd mastered it long ago. Still, she found herself staring at that wrist, the exposed veins for a long, long moment, almost mesmerized.

"If you're hungry, go ahead."Torontococked his head. "I've fed vamps before. It's not like I'll miss a half a pint."

Her belly all but cramped with need and her knees got weak just thinking about it. What the hell . . . she wasn't that hungry. She'd just fed last night. She could go another day before it should be this bad. Wary, she eyed him. "Why? Why would you feed me? You should all want me out of the territory."

"Well, for one"—he watched her, that light of amusement still in his eyes—"it's considered polite to make sure new . . . visitors don't go hungry. After all, hungry people sometimes go looking for food in the wrong place. We can't have that. Besides, you and me? Tonight, we've got a killer to track down."

We . . .

"Not unless it's snowing in hell." Sylvia glared at him. A killer to track down? With a fricking Boy Scout? No. Way. No way in that frozen, snowy hell.

"Check the forecast, baby." He lowered his hand and sauntered forward, his gaze dropping to rest on her mouth. "Did you smell me on you when you woke?"

"I'm starting to think the crap about Masters having wicked control is just that—crap. Otherwise, I don't think I would have woken with your scent on me. Men with control don't go pawing sleeping women."

"Oh, I've got control." He dipped his head.

She held her ground, curious. He breathed in her scent, and when a groan rumbled out of him, she felt a strange warmth rush through her. Oh, this wolf was not good for her peace of mind. Not good for her . . . he was starting to make her want things, and this was only the second time she'd seen him. Not just sex—if all she wanted was sex, she wouldn't get that curious little twist in her heart when she looked at him.

This was much more than just craving sex; how was that even possible, anyway? She'd seen him twice. In under twenty-four hours. It was insane . . . and it was very real. She wanted to see his hair free, falling around her as he moved over her. She wanted to feed from him as he rode her. Wanted to feel his teeth on her flesh, breaking it—

"You keep thinking whatever you're thinking and I'll have you naked and wrapped around me in ninety seconds," he whispered. "And I still haven't told you my name. After all, we really should know each other's names before we fuck, right?"

Oh, she was in so much trouble here. Jerking back, she gave him a narrow glare and wished there was something, anything she could do to control her body's response to him. Anything to keep him from reading that response. She might as well waste her time wishing the sun wouldn't rise.

"I said it once, I'll say it again," she whispered, her throat dry. "Get the hell out. I've got a job to do."

"No, Syl. We have a job to do."

She stilled at the sound of her shortened name on his lips. "It's Sylvia," she said huskily. "Sylvia. Not Syl. Not any other name. Sylvia. And we don't have a job."

"Okay." He shrugged, unconcerned. "Think about it. It makes more sense. What we need is information from Pulaski. What you want is to complete your contract. The two things don't have to be mutually exclusive." He reached out, toyed with a lock of hair.

She watched as he wrapped it around one finger, around and around. Then he let it go, the backs of his knuckles brushing against the curve of her breast. "Like your Master is going to go for that."

"My Master . . ." He chuckled. Scratching his chin, he tipped his head back and studied the ceiling. "That's a funny thing. Let me put it this way. If I produce the results he needs, I don't think Rafe's going to give a flying fuck what happens to Pulaski. Not officially."

"Not officially? What in the hell does that mean?" She sneered at him. "You Boy Scouts are all about your damn rules."

"Boy Scouts?" He started to laugh. He ended up leaning against a wall, he laughed so hard. "I'm a Boy Scout? And I'm all about rules? Please. Pretty please, if you ever meet Rafe, you have to tell them that."

"Oh, like you're not?" Crossing her arms over her chest, she tapped her nails against her arm and eyed him. "If you're not all about rules and being Boy Scouts, then why in the hell would you all do the shit you do? It's not like you do it for glory or anything."

"If we don't . . . who will?" He eyed her curiously.

"So it's altruism?"

"No. It's . . ." A far-off look crossed his face and then he shrugged. "Somebody has to be willing. If it's not us, I guess it's nobody. And that's just not an option." He paused then asked softly, "Do you really want to live in a world where nobody stops the monsters, Miz James?"

Where nobody stops the monsters . . . Images flashed through her mind and the remnants of the dreams from the past day rose up to choke her. "Oh, go fuck yourself," she snapped. Spinning away from him, she went back to the closet and snagged her pack. She needed to get out of here. Fast. Once she got to her bike, she could keep away from him. Even a were couldn't keep up with a vamp on a Harley, right?

Bending down, she grabbed her bag. When she turned around, he was there. Her breath caught in her throat as he crowded her up against a wall, his body blocking her in, one arm resting by the wall near her head, the other coming up to rest lightly on her hip.

Too intimate—

"Listen, Sylvia . . ." He dipped his head and once more breathed in her scent. "We need to get something straight. You're not . . . aw, hell. You smell so good."

As he turned his face into her hair, she shuddered. "Okay. I'm glad we got that straight, wolf. I smell good—glad we got that nice and squared away. Now. Can you give me some space?"

"No." He pushed his thigh between hers.

Shock flooded her. Heat flooded her. "What . . ."

"My name isToronto," he whispered against her ear. "Say it."

"Tor . . .Toronto?" She tipped her head back, frowning. "That's a . . ." Hated place. I hate that place, I hate that place, I hate that place . . . "Weird name."

"Yeah. So what? Say it again. I want to make sure you remember it. Because sometime very damn soon, I'm going to be inside you, Sylvia." The last words were spoken in a growl against her lips.

"Toronto." She opened for him even as she reached up and jerked the band from his hair.

read more... Or you can just preorder!

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

Other authors on a snippet rampage

Megan Hart:Read in bed!

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Eliza Gayle

Lissa Matthews

Mandy M Roth

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

TJ Michaels

Zoë Archer