Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 130

Weekend in Cincinnati…

The guy and I went to Cincinnati over the weekend. Had a great time. Met up with a friend of ours on Friday.

I had a signing on Saturday and we headed up on Friday. I hit some bookstores, signed stock...IF YOU HEAR HER is on a lot of the towers and stuff at Barnes and Noble, which is soooo cool.

The West Chester BN had our books all up in this verra pretty display and the booksigning was great.

But the best part...

This guy had the frigging car from  Back to the Future down at the Levee in Newport.

We went down there for dinner and I wanted to go to the BN to sign stock, so we were walking up and we see this silver-ish car.  We all stop, then look at each other.  Kind of like we go, "Is that the..."  then we just take off.

Apparently, one of the cars was auctioned off to raise money for the Michael J Fox Foundation.  And the dude drives it around...and lets people take pictures.  It was soooo cool.

Saturday Snippets…

It's Snippet time...

Saturday snippets...secondary characters...

You'll meet Colby Mathis. He is the hero in my contribution to the Hot in Handcuffs antho

 

"You're not supposed to be here,"Taylorsnapped, his voice flat and cold.

Dez ignored him, staring at the house with a rapt expression.

The voices . . . they called to her. Their call was impossible to ignore. The whispers were like a siren's song in her head. Responding to Taylor's blunt statement was pointless, especially since she couldn't explain why she was here. She just knew she had to be here.

She hadn't been notified and that meant nobody thought her skills were required. If Taylor wanted her here, he would most definitely have called her.

After all, she lived just a little outside of Williamsburg. It wouldn't take her any time to get to the small, upscale subdivision where all hell was currently breaking loose. It made her gut hurt to think about the hell happening inside this posh, designer neighborhood. Some people thought bad shit didn't happen in places like this.

Dez knew better.

"There's a child in there," she said quietly.

"No, there's not." It was Colby Mathis, one of Jones's bloodhounds. Under most circumstances, she would have listened to him, agreed with him. She liked the guy, respected him, and she knew he knew how to do his job. He was the hard-core psychic and she was the one who talked to ghosts.

But he was wrong this time.

Because there was a ghost standing at the door of the house, staring at Dez with desperate eyes, her mouth open in a silent scream.

"He's got a child in there,Taylor, and if you all move on him like you're planning, he's going to kill her," Dez said, her voice strained.

Colby swore. "We don't have time for this, Jones. The fucker's slipped away from us before—he's not doing it again."

Taylor looked from Colby to Dez, and Dez stared into Taylor's eyes.

"Colby, give me one minute."

Taylor saw the frustration simmer in the other man's eyes, but the agent gave a terse nod and retreated, falling back a few steps Taylor reached out and caught Dez's arm. He tried to ignore the soft, silken warm skin of said arm, just as he'd tried to ignore the way his heart had skipped a beat when she had moved to stand beside him earlier.

Read More...

Other snippet-y authors...

Lauren Dane

Rhian Cahill

Eliza Gayle

Anne Rainey

Jody Wallace

Lissa Matthews

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Vivian Arend

Alison Kent

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Shelli Stevens

Friday 56…

From Carolyn Crane's Double Cross...(this is from the MS she sent me so my 56 would be different from the final version)

Halfway back, I treat my glorying self to a chocolate peanut butter ice cream, and then I sit at a bus stop bench and eat it while I watch pigeons tear at some garbage. Most enjoyable.

Glory hour is mostly over by the time I near Mongolian Delites.

About the Friday 56

Grab the book nearest you. Right now
Turn to page 56.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post that sentence (plus one or two others if you like) along with these instructions on your blog or (if you do not have your own blog) in the comments section of this blog.
Post a link along with your post back to this blog.
Don't dig for your favorite book, the coolest, the most intellectual. Use the CLOSEST.

Pinterest

I go to these meetings in Louisville sometimes...Let Them Tweet Cake.

A bunch of smart women, talking smart stuff and eating cake, cookies...half the time, I'm lost, but I can follow the cakes and cookies, and sometimes they talk social media and ebook readers, and that stuff, I can follow.

One of the ladies I chat with on twitter mentioned a new thing she was interested in...Pinterest. So I downloaded the app, but didn't much with it.

Until last week.

Lo and behold... I'm a Pinterest freak. I really, really need a place to keep track of interesting faces, scenes, etc.

A virtual place, because sometimes, those faces are online, and just storing them in a file doesn't work. This is a virtual corkboard. And it's awesome.

Lookit.

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http://pinterest.com/shilohwalker/

You can organize things into boards.

Like this one here...

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Sometimes I just need a scene... like this one.

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I've got two I use for writing...Characters & Settings and Scenes.

And a few other boards, Just Cuz and Strength. I love this site...it's still in the 'request an invite' stage, but it's a very cool tool for writers.

Hodge-Podge, Missing Posts, Etc…

Okay, so my website has been switched over to a new host and stuff.  But I lost some blog posts.  If you notice some missing, that's why.

Just a refresher...on the Nook Winner, we still need to hear from her. She needs to email Jaci, Lisa or me within two weeks.

Winner has been announced...

Our new winner is Julie...Julie with the email... julsk**@e*****.com. We need her to contact one of us...

Here's one of two reader giveaways for IF YOU SEE HER...This one is on GoodReads.  You do need to be a member there to win.  I'll save the other one for a blog giveaway here in early January.

 

Goodreads Book Giveaway

If You See Her

by Shiloh Walker

Giveaway ends December 31, 2011.

See the giveaway details

at Goodreads.

Enter to win

I'm signing in West Chester, Oh, this Saturday at the Streets of West Chester B&N from 1-3 pm with a bunch of other authors...

Lori Foster

Patricia Sargent

Jules Bennett

Donna MacMeans

Marcia James

Kay Stockham

Denise Gwen

Shiloh Walker

Gabriella Edwards

Michele Stegman

Toni Blake

Serena Miller

Pinterest

I go to these meetings in Louisville sometimes...Let Them Tweet Cake.

A bunch of smart women, talking smart stuff and eating cake, cookies...half the time, I'm lost, but I can follow the cakes and cookies, and sometimes they talk social media and ebook readers, and that stuff, I can follow.

One of the ladies I chat with on twitter mentioned a new thing she was interested in...Pinterest. So I downloaded the app, but didn't much with it.

Until last week.

Lo and behold... I'm a Pinterest freak. I really, really need a place to keep track of interesting faces, scenes, etc.

A virtual place, because sometimes, those faces are online, and just storing them in a file doesn't work. This is a virtual corkboard. And it's awesome.

Lookit.

[image error]

You can organize things into boards.

Like this one here...

[image error]

Sometimes I just need a scene... like this one.

[image error]

I've got two I use for writing...Characters & Settings and Scenes.

And a few other boards, Just Cuz and Strength. I love this site...it's still in the 'request an invite' stage, but it's a very cool tool for writers.

Writer Wednesdays… Delilah Devlin

Today's Writer Wednesday Guest is my friend Delilah Devlin...

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

A: I begin every day with a cup of strong, black coffee, incense or a candle burning on my file cabinet, and I write my blog as my "morning pages" to get my mind and fingers going.

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

A: Write. A lot. Submit. A lot. If you get repeated rejections, seek a good critique buddy or group to help you figure out where you're missing it. Then write some more.

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

A: That there are hard and fast rules about what you can't write. Take risks. You'll be remembered.

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

A: Stephen King's On Writing. He can make a book on writing read like the best fiction—and he has solid observations and advice.

want to know more about Writer Wednesdays?  Go here…

Writer Wednesdays… Delilah Devlin #WW

Today's Writer Wednesday Guest is my friend Delilah Devlin...

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

A: I begin every day with a cup of strong, black coffee, incense or a candle burning on my file cabinet, and I write my blog as my "morning pages" to get my mind and fingers going.

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

A: Write. A lot. Submit. A lot. If you get repeated rejections, seek a good critique buddy or group to help you figure out where you're missing it. Then write some more.

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

A: That there are hard and fast rules about what you can't write. Take risks. You'll be remembered.

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

A: Stephen King's On Writing. He can make a book on writing read like the best fiction—and he has solid observations and advice.

want to know more about Writer Wednesdays?  Go here…

from The Departed

Ack...due out in January!  Time is slipping away.  Where did 2011 go?

So this is due out soon.  Time to start tormenting...

If she would just work to keep him at arm's length, the way everybody else did, maybe it would be easier not to be so obsessed with her. So desperate for a touch, a taste . . . a night.

A lifetime, even.

Stop it.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and said, "Julie won't be here until after her shift at the clinic is over. So if you're really determined that I'm not to be alone, either you call me another babysitter or you make yourself at home."

Then she sauntered off into the depths of the house.

He found himself watching the way her ass swayed back and forth and wishing, really wishing, he had the strength to call her another "babysitter," as she called it. But he also knew there was no way in hell he was going to miss out on spending a little bit of time with her. Away from work. Out of that damned hospital.

Here. In her home. Where he could assure himself she was safe, alive.

Whole.

 

Staring into the refrigerator, Dez found herself contemplating the bottle of wine. It was too damn early, she knew. Plus, she was still a little off-kilter from the pain meds and she knew she'd be popping another shortly.

But still. Every once in a while, liquid courage did help things a bit and she needed something to help loosen her tongue because she couldn't seem to figure out the right way to go and talk to Taylor and tell him something very, very simple.

Thanks for saving my life.

"Are you hungry?"

She jumped, startled. Turning around, she stared at him and then she gaped, a little dismayed at the sight of him. He'd taken his jacket off. He'd loosened his tie.

Hell—it was almost like he was . . . naked. At least for Taylor Jones. Those suits of his were like armor, she'd always thought.

"Are you okay?"

Jerking her eyes away from his chest, she stared at him and stammered out . . . something. She didn't know what.

"Maybe you should sit down. You look flushed."

No, I look hot. As in turned on, she thought irritably. All because my fricking boss undid the top two buttons on his pristine white dress shirt and loosened that damn tie.

And the jacket. Mustn't forget the jacket he'd taken off.

Swallowing, she turned around and grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge. Over her shoulder, she said, "I'm just thirsty. Tired. Nobody ever gets any rest in a hospital, you ever noticed that?"

"I've never had to stay in one," he said. "But plenty of my people have."

There was a weight in his voice.

Slowly, she turned and studied him.

That heavy, strange weight she'd heard in his voice was echoed in his eyes, she realized. It didn't show in his face—no, very little was ever revealed on that face of his, but those eyes . . . somewhere, just behind a rigid, steely curtain, she sensed a great deal of chaos. Pain. Guilt.

She remembered how many times she'd heard that he was at the hospital because one of them had gone down. This was the first time for her—she was rarely ever in a place where there was any action going on. But her best friend, Taige, had been hurt a few times and she knew, vividly, thatTaylorliked to haunt hospital halls.

No, he didn't show much emotion to the world. But he felt it, she realized. He felt a great deal.

And suddenly, those words were a lot easier to find.

"You saved my life," she said softly, setting her drink down and crossing her arms over her chest. "I haven't said thank you for that."

"You don't need to. I never should have let you put yourself in that position."

Dez arched a brow. Oh, yeah, there was emotion. She was nowhere near the emotional bloodhound some of her colleagues where, but psychics, most of them, had similar natures and she could pick up the vibes well enough.

What she didn't understand was why she hadn't ever picked these up from him before.

Unless he was just having a harder time keeping it all hidden . . .

Pushing off the counter, she circled the island to stand in front of him. "There was a girl inside that house,Taylor. He would have killed her."

"We don't know that."

"Don't we?" Reaching down, she caught his hand and said, "Come on."

For just a second, he resisted.

She had no idea why she'd grabbed his hand. She was surprised as hell that she'd done it.

She was equally stunned when his fingers, long, cool, and elegant, closed around hers. She led him to the bathroom and left him standing by the counter as she faced the mirror. "This damn tape itches like crazy," she said. "I kept telling that nurse to find some paper tape. I think she liked ignoring me."

"You shouldn't be exposing that yet," he said, his voice gruff.

Dez rolled her eyes and made a face at him in the mirror. "Yes, Daddy."

Something flashed in the depths of his steely blue eyes—something hot—something that made her knees do the weirdest damn thing. Swallowing, she tore her eyes away from him and focused on her reflection, watching as she peeled the bandage away and revealed the neat surgical scar on her throat.

Dumping the bandages in the trash, she turned to face him. Bracing her hips against the marble countertop, Dez angled her chin up, let him stare.

He did. For long, long seconds. Then he turned on his heel and stalked out.

Read More...

From The Departed…

Ack...due out in January! Time is slipping away. Where did 2011 go?

So this is due out soon. Time to start tormenting...

If she would just work to keep him at arm's length, the way everybody else did, maybe it would be easier not to be so obsessed with her. So desperate for a touch, a taste . . . a night.

A lifetime, even.

Stop it.

She glanced over her shoulder at him and said, "Julie won't be here until after her shift at the clinic is over. So if you're really determined that I'm not to be alone, either you call me another babysitter or you make yourself at home."

Then she sauntered off into the depths of the house.

He found himself watching the way her ass swayed back and forth and wishing, really wishing, he had the strength to call her another "babysitter," as she called it. But he also knew there was no way in hell he was going to miss out on spending a little bit of time with her. Away from work. Out of that damned hospital.

Here. In her home. Where he could assure himself she was safe, alive.

Whole.

Staring into the refrigerator, Dez found herself contemplating the bottle of wine. It was too damn early, she knew. Plus, she was still a little off-kilter from the pain meds and she knew she'd be popping another shortly.

But still. Every once in a while, liquid courage did help things a bit and she needed something to help loosen her tongue because she couldn't seem to figure out the right way to go and talk to Taylor and tell him something very, very simple.

Thanks for saving my life.

"Are you hungry?"

She jumped, startled. Turning around, she stared at him and then she gaped, a little dismayed at the sight of him. He'd taken his jacket off. He'd loosened his tie.

Hell—it was almost like he was . . . naked. At least for Taylor Jones. Those suits of his were like armor, she'd always thought.

"Are you okay?"

Jerking her eyes away from his chest, she stared at him and stammered out . . . something. She didn't know what.

"Maybe you should sit down. You look flushed."

No, I look hot. As in turned on, she thought irritably. All because my fricking boss undid the top two buttons on his pristine white dress shirt and loosened that damn tie.

And the jacket. Mustn't forget the jacket he'd taken off.

Swallowing, she turned around and grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge. Over her shoulder, she said, "I'm just thirsty. Tired. Nobody ever gets any rest in a hospital, you ever noticed that?"

"I've never had to stay in one," he said. "But plenty of my people have."

There was a weight in his voice.

Slowly, she turned and studied him.

That heavy, strange weight she'd heard in his voice was echoed in his eyes, she realized. It didn't show in his face—no, very little was ever revealed on that face of his, but those eyes . . . somewhere, just behind a rigid, steely curtain, she sensed a great deal of chaos. Pain. Guilt.

She remembered how many times she'd heard that he was at the hospital because one of them had gone down. This was the first time for her—she was rarely ever in a place where there was any action going on. But her best friend, Taige, had been hurt a few times and she knew, vividly, thatTaylorliked to haunt hospital halls.

No, he didn't show much emotion to the world. But he felt it, she realized. He felt a great deal.

And suddenly, those words were a lot easier to find.

"You saved my life," she said softly, setting her drink down and crossing her arms over her chest. "I haven't said thank you for that."

"You don't need to. I never should have let you put yourself in that position."

Dez arched a brow. Oh, yeah, there was emotion. She was nowhere near the emotional bloodhound some of her colleagues where, but psychics, most of them, had similar natures and she could pick up the vibes well enough.

What she didn't understand was why she hadn't ever picked these up from him before.

Unless he was just having a harder time keeping it all hidden . . .

Pushing off the counter, she circled the island to stand in front of him. "There was a girl inside that house,Taylor. He would have killed her."

"We don't know that."

"Don't we?" Reaching down, she caught his hand and said, "Come on."

For just a second, he resisted.

She had no idea why she'd grabbed his hand. She was surprised as hell that she'd done it.

She was equally stunned when his fingers, long, cool, and elegant, closed around hers. She led him to the bathroom and left him standing by the counter as she faced the mirror. "This damn tape itches like crazy," she said. "I kept telling that nurse to find some paper tape. I think she liked ignoring me."

"You shouldn't be exposing that yet," he said, his voice gruff.

Dez rolled her eyes and made a face at him in the mirror. "Yes, Daddy."

Something flashed in the depths of his steely blue eyes—something hot—something that made her knees do the weirdest damn thing. Swallowing, she tore her eyes away from him and focused on her reflection, watching as she peeled the bandage away and revealed the neat surgical scar on her throat.

Dumping the bandages in the trash, she turned to face him. Bracing her hips against the marble countertop, Dez angled her chin up, let him stare.

He did. For long, long seconds. Then he turned on his heel and stalked out.

Read More...