Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 152

Dear NBC

Just in case the series takes off and people get ideas… I had the Grimms first. Tttthhhhppppptttt

Grimm (starts this fall)

My Grimm started two years ago this fall.

The info I saw was…

"Remember the fairy tales your parents used to tell you before bedtime? Well, those weren't stories, they were warnings.

Detective Nick Burkhardt thought he was ready for the grim reality of working homicide in Portland, Oregon. That is, until he started to see things… things he couldn't quite explain. Like a gorgeous woman suddenly transforming into a hideous hag, or an average Joe turning into a vicious troll. Then, after a panicked visit from his only living relative, Nick discovers the truth about his visions: he's not like everyone else, he's a descendant of an elite group of hunters known as "Grimms" who are charged with stopping the proliferation of supernatural creatures in the world. And so begins his new life journey – albeit a reluctant one at first – as he solves crimes with his partner who knows something about Nick has radically changed but can't quite put his finger on it. Along the way, Nick finds himself unexpectedly getting help on some of the more difficult cases from Monroe, a guy who seems normal at first but is soon revealed to be what you might call a "big bad wolf." Literally!

While the Brothers Grimm wrote fairy tales that children have adored for generations, imagine if the villains were real, and Nick was the only one who could stop them."

From executive producers David Greenwalt (Angel, Buffy the Vampire Slayer) and Jim Kouf (Angel, National Treasure) comes a new world of police work where all cases have a storybook connection… but not always happily ever after."

My Grimm? Same premise…although they aren't cops.

Greta didn't get her happy ending her first time around. And now that she's a Grimm—special kind of guardian angel and official ass-kicker in the paranormal world—romance is hard to find. Besides, there's only ever been one man who made her heart race, and the fact that he did scared her right out of his arms. Now Rip is back. And just in time too, because Greta needs his help.

On a mission he knows is going to test all of his strengths and skills, the last person Rip expected to see is the one woman who broke his heart. Working together seems to be their only hope. But, when faced with a danger neither of them anticipated, the question is, how will they face the danger to their hearts—assuming they survive, of course.

 

Random Trivia…

Which book did Dominic first appear in…?

Hunter's Fall…Random Snippets

 

That big bully of a vampire worried too much, Nessa mused.

"You should have just jumped," Morgan whispered, her voice faint, but malicious. "Then you wouldn't have to worry about him anymore."

"Shut up, bitch," Nessa muttered, swallowing the knot in her throat.

She might despise this life, might despise the God who'd trapped her here yet again, but she wouldn't do that to Malachi. The poor vampire, he worried so, and he felt guilty, although none of this was his fault.

She might hate her life. She might not care if she lived or died. She might not care so much that they worried about her. But she wouldn't do that to him—wouldn't jump while he watched.

Her stomach rumbled demandingly and she followed her nose to a street vendor. A hot dog, loaded with chili, onions and cheese, wasn't going to do much more than ease the emptiness of her stomach but she wasn't going to take the downtime she knew she needed. She needed a decent meal, a lot of calories, a lot of water, and a lot of rest before she'd feel even close to strong.

And she might . . . later.

Just not right now.

A glance up at the leaden sky didn't tell her much about the time of day, but experience had her placing it at roughly noon. Gave her about five hours before the sun set. Five hours to make sure those vampires were dead. At least the old one. The two younger ones she could deal with even after sunset. The old one though—

A cold ache spread out from the slow-healing vampire bite in her neck. He'd sought to bleed her out and he'd been low enough on his own blood that his vampiric gifts hadn't been particularly strong. When vampires wanted, they could leave bites that were almost surgically neat and their saliva had a rather miraculous healing effect. At least they did when the vampire wasn't hovering just this side of death.

She finished up her hot dog and then turned the corner, heading for the subway. The red line would take her close enough to where she needed to go and it would save her much-needed energy.

She moved slowly down the steps, hating the weakness in her body, hating how heavy her legs felt, how gritty her eyes felt. She plugged some money into a machine and got her ticket before joining the other bodies waiting on the platform.

The train came to a halt in front of her and she moved on, surrounded by commuters, college students and construction workers. She breathed in the scents of life and felt a curl of envy whisper through her. These people were rushing home, rushing to work, living lives that revolved around work, family, dates.

Everything Nessa wished she could have.

Everything she never would.

The envy flowered into full bloom. Nessa glanced around at the faces of the mortals and wished she could be anywhere but here.

"Then go. No reason you can't be anywhere but here."

That insidious cow. She couldn't linger for long, but she could sure as hell speak up often enough to drive Nessa completely insane. Or try to tempt her into something foolish.

On a good day, Nessa could ignore the bitch.

But today wasn't a good day. On the bad days, it wasn't just lucidity that took a vacation. It was her common sense and self-preservation. On a good day, she'd never even dream of using her magic where mortals could witness it.

Today, though, was obviously a bad day and if she was just a little stronger, she might have even done what Morgan wanted and let the magic carry her away.

Weak and tired as she was, flying wasn't just unwise, it was dangerous. The ability to move herself from one place to another, miles away, was almost as easy as breathing when she was at full strength.

Nessa hadn't been at full strength in months. Logically, she knew she needed to take better care of herself. On her lucid days, she did try. But there were other days when it seemed insanity had the stronger hold. Days when she couldn't tell reality from the nightmares inside her head, days when she couldn't separate the future from the past.

When she was stronger, the lucid days came more often. Those days, however, came with painfully clear memories. Memories she would do nearly anything to avoid having. Keeping her mind occupied helped—which meant Hunting like a demon. Or letting herself become weak enough, tired enough, that she slipped out of lucidity. Usually a combination of both worked best.

Except doing both tended to make people fuss over her like she was some kind of daft old bat or a reckless young child.

With a curl of her lip, she muttered, "I tried the daft old bat route—it wouldn't stick." So now she was stuck inside the body of a reckless youth.

Morgan had been young when they had stopped her murderous rampage.

If Morgan had lived, she would have been in her twenties, Nessa thought.  She wasn't sure.  The years had all run together on her, but she knew this body was still in the bloom of youth.  She wondered how many more years she was going to be trapped inside it. How many more years of emptiness and loneliness she must endure.

It was enough to infuriate her. A sharp hiss escaped her and she shoved to her feet. Danger be damned. Common sense be damned. She forced her way through the bodies, heading to the back of the train, looking for just a little bit of privacy. The closest she was going to get was the second to last car. One drunkard, a bored-looking woman who Nessa suspected was a prostitute, and a dozing commuter who would probably end his trip minus his wallet and briefcase if he didn't wake up.

She met the insolent gaze of the woman and held it. Standing up, Nessa imagined the other woman would probably have a good six inches on her, and easily forty pounds. But physical presence didn't always add up to everything.

Attitude counted for a great deal. Attitude and arrogance. Those two things Nessa had in spades.

Their gazes connected and Nessa smirked at the other woman, watched as the gaze fell away. In that second, when nobody was looking at her, Nessa let the magic take her.

In the back of her mind, she felt Morgan's delight.

It left Nessa feeling more than a little sick, and downright furious.

She alit on the front stoop of the worn, run-down house on the lower east side of Chicago. "Honey, I'm home."

 

 

June 7

You can also read the prologue and chapter one…

Amazon | B&N | BAMM | Borders | IndieBound

Hunters Jonathon and Lori

Jonathan could feel her eyes on him as she finished the task of closing the wound as he drifted up from the healing slumber, feeling revived, refreshed, hungry. The major healing had been removing the ice of the other witch's magick from his body.

Closing the wound was child's play to her.

Opening his eyes, he met her gaze and felt his mouth curl into a hungry smile.

"I like the way your eyes feel on me—I like knowing you watch me," he murmured. Taking her hand, he pressed it flat to his belly and held it there.

"Stop it." She swallowed thickly as she slowly moved her eyes up the line of his body, tugging her hand out from under his, trailing the tips of her fingers over his side before folding her hand into a fist that she held in her lap. "I've been watching you for years. You've never given a damn before. And on the rare occasion you did, it only pissed you off."

"Because I wanted you too much," he said hotly, reaching out and sliding his hand up the side of her thigh where she knelt beside him. "And those sweet, innocent eyes that followed me everywhere."

Her eyes sliced across to meet his, narrowed and angry. "I am tired of being called sweet and innocent." The air between them was all but vibrating with her anger, Jonathan could feel it. "I lost my innocence years ago, once I realized what I would be expected to do when I joined an enclave. And I'm only sweet in your eyes. Eli knows I can be a veritable shrew. Sarel thinks I'm a bitch and a half. To everybody else, I am just me. Only you label me as sweet and innocent and then bother to call me by name. Bloody hell, I spent several years wondering if you even knew it. All I ever heard was she is too sweet, too soft for this life."

"I always knew your name. I've been whispering it in my sleep from the time I met you."

another title EC's discounted…available at Kindle & Nook

#Fridayreads

 

Mary Burton's Merciless

The Other listened to the police scanner, tapping his fingers against his thigh, waiting for any mention of the bones.

Reading this now…so far, so good.

This week's prize is going to be an unsigned copy of Merciless. To enter, read the rules…(remember, comments must be made at my blog to count as entries, not via FB, goodreads, etc)

About the Friday Reads

Want to enter for a chance to win this book? Do the following…

Grab a book…any book.
Turn to page 56.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post that sentence (plus one or two others if you like) in the comments section of this blog to enter
A winner will be posted here within a week or so-please read the disclaimer-entering means you've READ the disclaimer.
Void where prohibited.
Odds of winning depend on number entries.
Comments must be made at my blog/website to be entered, not FB, not goodreads, etc.
Winner to be posted at my blog-must contact me to claim prize.
Rest of my rules in the disclaimer-please read it.

 

Sadly, no more contests from me via Facebook

see more Lolcats and funny pictures, and check out our Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!

Okay, guys.  Somebody drew my attention to this blog post by Ashley March and the way Facebook does things is seriously going to affect how authors (or anybody) can do contests there.

She hits on the rules Facebook has laid out for contests done via Facebook.  And it makes giving away anything, even a $2.99 ebook, complicated as I dunno what.  The rules, copied from Facebook's page:

1) May NOT hold a contest on our Facebook pages unless it is administered through a third party app and is placed on a unique page tab or canvas page.

2) Must disclose that participants are giving information to us and not to Facebook; must acknowledge to participants that the contest is not sponsored, endorsed, or associated with Facebook; and must have participants somehow acknowledge that they release Facebook from any liability.

3) May NOT use any part of Facebook's features or functionality to enter participants in the contest. This means participants cannot be required to like a status/picture, comment on a status/picture, enter their own status/picture, or even like the page as a condition to be entered into the contest.

Number one makes things complicated-I don't know anything about 3rd party apps.  But do they cost $$? Do I need a new one every time I do a contest?  Shudder.

Number two…pfft.  Fine.  But I'm not taking a course in legal-eze just to do a contest and as often as Facebook changes things?  I'd almost have to.  Shoot, I'd have to almost hire a contest person just to keep up with things.  I can't afford that.

Number 3…yanno what this mean?  No more… when I hit 1600, 2000, 5000 likes I'll give away a prize…now I hadn't done any of these yet, but I might have at some point.  A lot of authors have done these.  If they do it now, they run the risk of losing their page.

Keep in mind, this is a FACEBOOK thing-I can't control it.  If I don't abide by their rules, they can shut my page down.

Unfortunately, these rules have made it so complicated…basically Facebook has made it too complicated to give away prizes.

Big companies, this won't affect much–they have people to do this stuff for them.  I'm not a company. I'm just me.  And if I'm spending time on crap like this?  I'm not writing.  Contests are complicated enough as it is.  I can't let them get any more complicated.

This means, sadly, I won't even be able to use Facebook as a means of entry in the future.  Again, I can't control this.  This is facebook.  This is also one of the reasons I've never much cared for Facebook. Yes, this is a new development, but still.  They want to control too much, have too much input in everything and bleh.

Sorry facebook friends…you can still hop over to my blog.  That's where most of my contests are run anyway and it's just a click away.

 

And the winner is…

As promised, I said I would post the winner of the Hunter's Fall ARC today.  Congrats to:

Lindsey Hutchinson who posted on my Facebook wall.

Thanks to everyone who commented, tweeted and otherwise helped spread the word of not only the contest, but the release date!  Don't forget to pre-order your copy. Hunter's Fall releases 6/7/11…just a few short weeks.  Until then, a Hunter's short story will be available starting Tuesday.  Look for Hunt Me, in eformat only for now.

 

Lindsey, you have 2 weeks to email me your mailing address at grimmhunter.shilohwalker(at)gmail(dot)com.  Also, if you'd like it personalized by Shiloh, please let me know.

Hunter's Fall…Random Snippets

 

"You can be such a bore sometimes, Mal." She blew out a breath. "How does your wife even tolerate it?"

Malachi's face twisted in a snarl. "She's too busy trying to keep you alive to worry about me being boring." Hell, he and his beloved spent so much time worrying about Nessa that they didn't have time to wonder if they were boring these days.

"Becoming a bit harder to handle me than you'd expected, eh?" She arched her brows and smiled at him.

Malachi wanted to shake her. She didn't seem to bloody care about anything anymore, and it was getting more and more disturbing.

For a time, she'd done well. She'd seemed stronger . . . almost like she'd once been.

But then Malachi failed her.

He'd never forgive himself for that.

The loss of the girl she'd loved like a daughter had damned near destroyed her. Malachi hadn't been able to do a damn thing to stop it. He hadn't been able to stop a drunk driver from plowing into the car Mei-Lin had been riding in. He hadn't been able to save the four girls, and he hadn't been able to do anything but stand at Nessa's side and hold her hand while she wept at Mei-Lin's funeral.

Useless bastard. All these years he'd walked this earth and the few times one of his dearest friends had needed help, he hadn't been able to do anything.

Just as he couldn't help her now. She was slipping into madness, he feared. Kelsey, his love, his heart, his soul, seemed to fear the same thing.

They were losing her, bit by bit.

Remember why you came here, old man, he told himself.

Not that he thought he'd have any impact on her. But he couldn't give up. And if he didn't come, he feared Kelsey would. As mindless as Nessa was these days, Malachi feared his wife even being near her.

If Nessa wanted to court death, Malachi would do his damnedest to stop her and he'd do his damnedest to hold Kelsey at bay, too.

"You found a nest of feral vamps," he said.

Nessa grinned. She looked like a damn schoolgirl standing there, a pleased grin on her face, her blond hair whipping around her face. Flinging her arms to the sky, she said, "Yes . . . yes, I did. And it was quite a lot of fun."

She stood there like that for a moment, poised as if getting ready for the dive to end all dives. Then she lowered her arms, rubbed at her neck with one hand.

Malachi walked over to her, tugging the neckline of her sweatshirt aside so he could see the ugly bite mark on her neck. "Got bit, too, I see," he murmured, keeping his voice neutral. He'd known that before he'd come. That was why Kelsey had sent him.

Nessa had been courting death with a vengeance ever since Mei-Lin had died. Each time, she moved a little closer. But he wasn't sure what would claim her first—death or her own demons.

He'd been so grateful to have her back that he hadn't noticed how broken she was. Hadn't realized what returning had done to her.

Then Mei-Lin came into her life, and Nessa seemed to find herself again. She'd been whole . . . or closer to it than she'd been in a good long time.

She was worse now.

All these years, Nessa had been strong. He'd counted on that strength, he supposed. Counted on it to see her through this.

But even the very strong break.

Malachi suspected the girl's death had proven to be too much.

Nessa wasn't broken—yet—but neither was she whole.

He had been so pathetically grateful to have her back. Nessa was one of the few constants in his life. He'd known her when she was little more than a girl and he'd watched her grow into the powerful witch she'd become, a witch whose power was so great, it had kept her soul alive even after her body had shut down.

But they'd all been fools thinking that she would eventually adjust. And Malachi was the biggest fool of all for thinking it, because of all of them, Malachi knew her best. He'd known how tired she was, how lonely and it had nothing to do with a frail, weakened body.

Whatever miracle God had wrought upon Nessa, it wasn't one that she would thank Him for. She hated every moment of her new existence. Right up until Mei-Lin. But that peace had been too short-lived and now, things were even worse than they had been before.

It was no longer simple loneliness and heartache tormenting the powerful witch. It was more.

Something dark had settled inside of her, something broken. She was fractured inside, a fact that all of them had overlooked until it couldn't be any longer.

Now, he had to face every day and wonder if this would be the day he was forced to hunt down his oldest friend and kill her. As yet, she was no threat to any but the ferals and herself, but he wondered how long that would last. She chased death with a passion, and she moved closer and closer to a line that no Hunter could cross.

It was as though she'd forgotten who she was. What she was. He looked into her eyes and saw madness. He saw a decided lack of control, and she cared little. No, she wasn't a danger to them yet, but he feared she would be. And when that happened, he would have to kill her. It was a knowledge that festered inside him. All this time, as long as he had walked this earth, nothing had broken him. It had been close when he had thought Agnes had died, but Kelsey had pulled him through.

He worried though that his wife wouldn't be able to pull him through what he feared was coming. Not because she couldn't. But because she wouldn't.

Kelsey . . . he loved that woman more than life itself. For her, he could survive centuries in hell if he knew she would be waiting for him at the end. But if he had to kill Nessa, Kelsey might never forgive him.

In her heart, she still hoped that Nessa would survive this. But Malachi was a pragmatic man. He had admitted what Kelsey's soft heart had yet to accept.

Nessa didn't want to live and she was getting desperate enough to do the unthinkable, just to see that she got what she wanted.

Death.

This time, she'd almost found it. And at the hands of a mangy, miserable feral vamp that she could have killed with her hands tied behind her back, if she chose.

Nessa shifted and smoothed her shirt so that it mostly hid the bite on her neck.

Inside his mind, he could still see those ugly, gaping holes in her pale skin.

"He took too much blood," Malachi said softly, his voice tight and controlled. Controlled, because if he wasn't careful, he would start shouting and he'd learned quite some time ago how shouting affected Nessa—she either laughed, or did something that would make him want to shout louder. "You're running a pint or two low there." He could see it in the pallor of her skin, and more, he scented it in her blood. Another few minutes and she would have been completely drained.

Nessa shrugged. "Nothing I haven't dealt with before." Then she grimaced, glancing down at her rail-thin body. "Granted, not in this particular body."

"That particular body is the only one you have. Perhaps you should care for it better. You need food, red meat. Rest. Hell, even a pint of Guinness would do you a world of good."

"Hmmm." She turned around and peered over the edge, staring down. The naked yearning in her eyes turned Malachi's gut into a cold, empty pit.

She wanted to jump. If he hadn't come when he did, would she have tried it? Would she try now . . . with him watching?

"Come back to Excelsior with me," he said quietly. He held out a hand and watched as she turned around. "Come home."

Come home, he thought. If he could just get her back to Excelsior, back to the school, they could help. There, perhaps she could find herself again. Perhaps she could heal.

He hoped. He prayed.

"Home." A faint smile curled her mouth upward, but it didn't reach her eyes. She never really smiled anymore. "Home is where the heart is, isn't it, Malachi?" She slid her gaze east, east over land and ocean, to a village that hadn't existed for centuries. "My heart's been buried for so long, there's not even dust left of him. I have no home."

An impish grin appeared on her face and she added, "Besides, there are still some nasties out there that I missed the other day. A good Hunter never leaves the job undone and all that rot."

"You don't need to be Hunting right now, Nessa," Malachi snapped. "You're weak, you're low on blood." You're insane. He kept that part to himself. He reached out, grabbed her wrist and jerked her back from the edge. She went flying and if he hadn't still held her wrist, she would have flown halfway across the roof before she landed. "It's a bloody miracle you can even stand."

Tugging her wrist, she said, "Oh, nonsense. You don't really believe a couple of pesky, bloodthirsty vampires are that big a threat to me, do you?"

His eyes raked over her from head to toe, lingering on the barely concealed bite mark at her neck. "Right now? Yes. You're vulnerable, damn it. A toddler having a temper tantrum could well prove to be a threat to you in your state."

"Vulnerable?" Blond brows arched over wide blue eyes.  "I haven't been vulnerable since—well, since I don't remember when. At least not to vampires. And obviously, you haven't spent much time around toddlers—toddlers in a tantrum are a threat to damn near everything."

She tipped her head back and murmured softly, "They're out there now, waiting for the sun to set. I feel them . . ."

Recognizing the look on her face, Malachi started toward her. "Fine, then," he growled. "We'll go after them together. Just like old times, eh?"

There was no way he was going to let this demented woman out of his sight, not until he knew she was stronger. If he were the hopeful sort, he would even wish that perhaps the two of them working side by side as they had so many times before might remind Nessa of who she was.

"Let's go then." He held out a hand to her.

But instead of putting her hand in his, she smirked. "I'm used to doing things on my own, Mal."

A mischievous smile flirted with the corners of her lips.

Not this time, old friend, he thought, ready to grab her once more.

"Oh, no, you don't." Malachi lunged for her, but she disappeared, right in front of him, and his hands closed around thin air.

 

June 7

You can also read the prologue and chapter one…

Amazon | B&N | BAMM | Borders | IndieBound

Random trivia…

Anybody know which book Agnes first appeared in?

Also, a reminder… there are random contests going on throughout the forum from now through the end of May.  All it takes to enter is to post.  And you can enter as often as you post.  No registration is necessary…just post away!

Speaking up for your rights as a copyright owner

Make sure the reps of your place of residence are aware of how digital theft affects you as a copyright owner.

Even if you've contacted them before, it doesn't hurt to do it again.  And again.  If you're a US citizen, here's a quick link to a letter you can sign that will be sent to your reps.

There's also a new forum[image error] where artists speak out about digital theft-one of the topics I saw-how it affects everyone.  It's not just artists-the copyright owners-who are affected by piracy.  But everybody.

Authors, I know it seems like you're stomping ants, but ignoring it accomplishes nothing. Every time you take action against piracy, it's a step in the right direction.