Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 165

About Friday's 56, a gift for Kelly and an impromptu contest

So we hit the 56 comments.  Regardless of whether we did it or not, I was going to make the donation.  What can I say…this picture got to me…

I also had another thing planned.  Now this part isn't a contest, but a gift.

I've always tried to give, whether it's through charities, helping out at my kids' school when I could, or whatnot.   Even when I couldn't do much more than drop a dollar or two in the bellringer's bucket at Christmastime, that's what I'd do.  Some people have told me that well…ya know a lot of that money doesn't even get to those who need it.  But some of it does.  And if nobody gives, then none of the money gets to those who do need it, right?

So I try to give.  And when I give, even if it wasn't the reason I gave, I've noticed that I tend to get some sort of blessing.  Maybe it's not right away.  Actually, it's rarely right away. Those blessings tend to be a gradual thing and that's fine.  And the point of this long ramble is this…

When you give, very often, you get back.

And I want to give Kelly a gift.

Kelly posted:

"Besides, why should I be all the helpful? You don't believe me anyways"

Page 56. ARC of Eternal Kiss by Laura Wright

You are great Shiloh. I will be making a donation too. If you get 56 comments and make the donation let me know and I will match it!!

Just email me or twitter me and let me know when you get 56. 

Kelly

Kelly wanted to give.  This wasn't a contest.  Anybody that was willing to make a commitment to donate, I'd planned to send a gift to.  (It's also too late to chime in now…sorry!) Nope, I didn't post anything about this because I don't think people should give a gift just to get one.  It's just a weird twist of fate that when you give to others, it finds a way back to you in some way shape or form.

So I need Kelly to email me… shilohwalker(at)gmail.com

Now onto that impromptu contest.  We had 60 comments.  A couple were doubles, but that's fine.  60 comments.  Had a heck of a lot more hits on the blog than 60, but 60 took the time to leave a comment.  So 60 names go into the pot, and one name comes out for an impromptu prize…

That would be…

Diane V, who commented:

"True Heart" by Delilah Devlin: She wanted it all.

Great cause – hope you get to 56 comments quickly.

Diane is getting a prize.

Thanks to everybody who took the time to comment.  And a special thanks to Kelly.  Since this wasn't a typical contest, me or my admin will be emailing Diane and Kelly in a day or two if I don't hear from them.

A real life hero…one who now needs some heroes to help him

If you've ever heard or heard much about the atrocities that happen in the Congo, chances are anything good that's happening there, lives saved, help given, it can be tied to this man…
He's devoted his life to helping others and now his life is in jeopardy-he has acute renal failure and without a kidney transplant, he's probably not going to make it.
From indiegogo's site…

Our Story

Pastor Marrion P'Udongo has been called the "Oskar Schindler" of Congo, a man who's dedicated himself to saving and nurturing the lives of others in one of the world's most deadliest wars. In 2003, as militia sacked the town of Bunia in northeastern Congo and executed hundreds of their ethnic rivals in the streets, the pastor sheltered scores of people in his home and miraculously guided them to safety. In the years since, his one-man ministry has reached deep into the forest to bring out child soldiers to live once again as children, and insured the welfare of those children whose parents have been killed by war. In order to finance this mission and support his family, Pastor Marrion has worked as a translator and fixer for the world's leading news agencies who cover the conflict, including the New York Times, Associated Press, Reuters, Agence France-Presse, BBC, PBS, NPR, and ABC's Nightline. If you've read a story about Congo in recent years, or seen one on television, the pastor probably helped produce it.

This past year, Pastor Marrion was diagnosed with acute renal failure. He's currently receiving dialysis in Kampala, Uganda. But in order to survive, he will need a costly kidney transplant.Please help us raise money to pay for the transplant, and to send pastor to either Kigali, Rwanda, or Johannesburg, South Africa for the procedure.

This effort is being spearheaded by journalist Bryan Mealer, photographer Marcus Bleasdaleand filmmaker Taylor Krauss, who have all worked with pastor in Congo and not only value him as a trusted colleague, but as a dear and close friend.

The Impact

In a country short on heroes, the pastor's presence is immense. To a community broken and scattered by a decade of fighting, his constant presence was like a lighthouse flickering home. Over the past several years, he's also helped operate the St. Kizito Orphanage in Bunia, which looks after over a hundred children who's parents died in the war. In a conflict where local journalists are often targeted and murdered, pastor is also one of the only remaining fixers to work with foreign media. For years, he's helped give voice to thousands of people victimized and displaced by violence, and more specifically, to the countless number of women and girls in eastern Congo who are raped each year by soldiers and militia and who receive no justice.

The clock is ticking, and without this transplant, the pastor will die. His wife and four children could lose a beloved husband, father, and breadwinner. Without the pastor in the field, the country loses a hero and a leader, while the voices of those he's championed go forever unheard.

If you can give $5 0r $10… more… this guys sounds like a hero and the Congo needs all the heroes they can get.
https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/12870/pledges/new

Surprises…

Larissa Ione/Stephanie Tyler *under their Sydney Croft persona* and I had stories in the Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance.  It was in ebook, but you had to buy the whole thing.  If that wasn't your cuppa…well, in a few weeks…you can read our stories…

As it says on the cover, these aren't new stories.  Both were previously published, although we've added some to our respective stories.  More details as we have them hammered out…right now, not much else hammered, though!

No Longer Mine… print release….

Obligatory self promo first… ahem

Born on the wrong side of the tracks and dealt a fair share of hardship, Nikki Kline never gives up a fight. Even when her reason to keep going is ripped from her, Nikki tries desperately to hang on. But when the man who broke Nikki's heart comes back into her life she doesn't know how much she can take. Especially since that man seems determined to win back her damaged heart.

Wade Lightfoot is a man who knows he's made more mistakes than most. As much as he would like to repair the damage he's done to those he loves, Wade also knows there is no going back. But when he sets out to put things right the last thing he's prepared to find out is that he had a son. A son he'll never get the chance to meet.

When the truth is out and all the old wounds are bared, it seems impossible that Nikki and Wade will find their way back to each other. But true love is an undeniable force that even past hurts can't destroy.

This book has been previously published and has been revised from its original release.

You can order

Digital

Samhain | Nook | Kindle | Kobo | Borders

Print

Borders | BAMM | B & N | IndieBound| Amazon

The book is out in print now… has pretty new cover. See?  It's been expanded, revised, cleaned up, etc, etc, etc…it's a better read than it was when it originally came out.  I still don't think it's my best work.  Some people, though, say this is their fave of mine.  Weird. Ah, well. Anyway.

On to excerpt…

"You're going to be old before your time if you keep this up, sis," a voice said softly, jerking her out of her reverie.

She turned her head and squinted up at Shawn. "Hey," was all she said, not responding to his words. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw your truck on my way to work," he said, kneeling beside her. His left eyebrow was neatly bisected by a thin scar. That, and the scars he bore inside, were his only physical reminders of the accident.

There were scars inside. She sensed it, wished she could help him…but she couldn't even help herself.

Jason had been like a little brother to Shawn. He'd adored the baby from the first and talked about how he'd teach him to wrestle, to go fish…all the cool boy stuff. Stuff Shawn hadn't ever had much chance to do himself.

"You ever wonder what would have happened if we'd just stayed at the store that day?" she asked softly. It was a question she'd asked herself a hundred times. A thousand.

"Only a few dozen times a week," he said.

As she looked over and met his gaze, he shook his head. "And you know as well as I do, those kinds of questions will drive us crazy. Some stupid drunk hit us, Nik. You weren't speeding. You weren't doing much of anything except driving in the rain. Bastard hit us, ran us off the road. You can't blame yourself."

She just shrugged.

She could blame herself. And she did.

"Y'know, you're going to be late for work," she told him, turning back to study the headstone.

Shawn shrugged. "I doubt they'll mind." And even if they did, he didn't care. How could work be that important when he looked at her and all but saw the dark cloud she had wrapped around herself? He settled on the grass next to her, uncertain of what to say. When he had been little, he had always run to her when he had been hurt. Nikki had always made the pain go away. And even when he had been nothing more than a street punk, causing trouble and raising hell, when he was in trouble, it had been her he had gone to. She had always fixed it in some way.

It didn't seem fair that after so many years of patching him up and kissing away his tears that he wasn't able to take away any of her pain.

"Jason is probably the sweetest angel in heaven, sis," he said, looking at his feet as he spoke. He could feel himself turning red to the roots of his hair and he had no idea where those words had come from.

"I bet he is," came her soft whisper.

And looking over, he saw the beginning of a smile on her face.

The words, wherever they had come from, had been the right ones.

Before Nikki got out of her truck she donned a dark pair of sunglasses and forced her unruly hair into a stubby ponytail. She hadn't really thought she would be recognized when she had decided to use her own name on her books. She really hadn't thought that far ahead. She had only wanted them to sell.

They had sold though, and she hadn't exactly been in the best frame of mind when she was dealing with the contract negotiations. If she had thought things through, if she had listened to the agent she'd signed with, she would have gone with a pen name. She would have done something to have some modicum of privacy.

Now it was a little too late.

Besides, in a town the size of Monticello, everybody knew everybody else's business. The hat and the sunglasses wouldn't fool many people, but if it helped a little she was all for it. If she lived in a larger town she'd have more anonymity than she had in Monticello. In the past few years it had come to where she couldn't go much anywhere without somebody hailing her down to talk about books.

My little girl wrote this. Isn't that something…

I got a book. Can you help me…

And lately, total strangers who were just in town to fish were recognizing her. Nikki wasn't ever going to let another picture be taken of her, and her webmaster had taken down the one they'd conned her into putting up. Now if she could just get it off the back of the books…

For a while she hadn't minded the attention too much, but as time passed she started to crave solitude. People and questions were coming to grate on her nerves something bad. It was just a sign of her worsening depression, she suspected, and if she were smart, she'd just make the drive to Somerset where she was less likely to be noticed, but she didn't have the energy.

She made it all the way through the store without any problems and was finishing up in the dairy section. She just might make it out of the store, she realized. It even had her mood climbing up a few notches—instead of toxic, it was just slightly hazardous.

She added a carton of yogurt and some cream cheese. As she went to turn the cart around she promptly ran into somebody else's.

"Damn it," she muttered, but her voice was lost under the sound of baskets crashing together and groceries tumbling to the floor.

A sheepish smile crossed her face and she said, "Sorry about that." She would hit somebody whose cart was beyond full. Kneeling, she picked up a carton of cookies and Donald Duck orange juice. She placed them in the basket before stepping away.

The guy had knelt in front of a dark child of four or five, his face hidden as he scooped up items from the floor.

"No problem," he said, although his voice belied his words. He sounded a tad—okay, he sounded a lot irritated.

Nikki was about to make a quick getaway, but then he stood. And revealed his face.

A very familiar face, one that haunted her dreams on a regular basis. His hair was shorter, cut at his nape, and his face had thinned out just a bit, the dimples at the corners of his mouth now slashes in his lean cheeks. But the eyes were the same, deep bottomless pools of brown velvet.

"Wade," she whispered. Her eyes, stricken, then landed on the child's face. A little girl, a little mirror of her father.

And of Nikki's son. She wore a red T-shirt decorated on the front with a sketch of a bright-eyed puppy. A baseball cap in that same candy-apple red sat on top of thick black hair that fell razor-straight to her tiny shoulders. She held a stuffed cocker spaniel, a mirror image of the way Jason had carried his precious Mouse.

A knife slowly embedded itself in Nikki's heart, started to twist.

For a moment his face was blank, and then his eyes narrowed. She was unable to move as he slowly reached up and tugged her sunglasses off.

"Nikki," he breathed, his eyes lighting as though from within.

He took a step closer and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand.

That gentle touch shattered her like glass.

Olivia Gates…

I met author Olivia Gates at RWA Nationals this past year.  I'll admit…I was oohing and ahhing over her awesome dress.  I commented on it, we started talking, Stacia Kane, Olivia and I ended up staying up one night until like 3AM.

Olivia is also one of the few people who probably entice me to read a book involving doctors or nurses…*G* because she's a doctor. I know she'll get it right.

Olivia lives in Egypt.  As many of you probably have heard, Egypt has been kind of cut off from the world-internet has been blocked.  While this is a smaller scale compared to what's going on in that country, with the internet being shut down, it means Olivia can't really promote her new release.  For an author…this can be bad.  So some bloggers are trying to help promote it for her. Since Olivia was so cool, I definitely wanted to do a bit to help.

Here's the run down I saw over at Karen's blog…

Born of the desert. Bound to the throne.

He rescued hostage Talia Burke from his royal family's rival tribe and swept her into his strong embrace. But Prince Harres Aal Shalaan soon discovered there was more to the brave beauty than he knew. Talia held information vital to protecting his beloved kingdom…and she had every reason not to trust him.

Marooned together at a desert oasis, Talia couldn't resist Harres. Yet even as his sizzling seduction entranced her, his loyalty to his family and country would always make them enemies. Falling for the sheikh would be her heart's greatest mistake…but she feared it was already too late….

You can read more about Olivia's work at her site, and the link to Karen's blog includes some review links and stuff.

On contests, international winners and the need to change a few things

FYI, while I'm not changing my plans to keep my contests open to international readers as much as possible, some prizes just don't work particularly well in other countries.  Things like wireless ebook readers, etc.  Sometimes I give away treats picked up from local candy stores and mailing food internationally is a complex mess-you can't mail food to certain countries, I don't think. Or a gift certificate to a store like Borders, B&N that isn't international-these are things I often pick up spur of the moment for a random giveaway.

An example on why this is becoming necessary…I had to spent more than an hour dealing with getting a gift certificate.  The prize was for a place in the US (people could argue 'then you shouldn't buy them…' but that's another debate, as I've got every right to support the stores around me, as well).  This GC was useless to an international reader and an international reader did win.  As promised, I found an alternative.  But it took an hour.  An hour might not sound like much, but when you think about all the other things that eat up all people's time…well.  It's just getting too complicated sometimes.  I gotta simplify.

For this reason, when I'm doing certain contests, those contests will now be limited to the US only.

Please try to understand, this isn't because I don't appreciate my international readers-I do, I appreciate you guys a lot-it's why I try to keep my contests open internationally.

I'm wearing myself out trying to juggle in everything that goes along with writing, and not writing as much as I want to, in addition to not sleeping as much as I should, wearing myself, blah, blah, blah…this is just another one of the things that has been tugging at my time and it's time to nip it.

I hope you all understand…but I think most of you are reading this blog anyway because of my books.  And it only makes sense for me to make sure I'm focused as much on the book writing as possible, and stressing less on the other stuff.

Again, the random giveaways of books  will remain open internationally.

What's new…

So there is something hidden somewhere on the site.

Who is going to be the first to find it?  No hints.  No clues.  No nothing.  But there's something, and I mean something specific.  Where is it… can you leave a link in the comments?

Saturday Snippets… not really a snippet

Because it's not a WIP, it's done, but oh well.

There's a cover to go with it though… good, yes?

Due out sometime in April…contemporary romance.  Be warned, it's more of a tear-jerker than normal.

Get over it, he told himself. Just like he'd told himself a hundred times over the past few months. Easier said than done.

Easier said than done.

But he managed. So what if he hadn't gone out on a single date since he'd been here? It had only been six months.

It wasn't that he was obsessing over her…not exactly.

He was just not too interested in anybody else.

That was all.

He was busier than hell anyway. Trying to learn the ropes of being a business owner and running a bookstore. The only thing he'd previously known about bookstores was that he'd loved to read. On top of that, he had to bring it into a new century, keep it afloat during a struggling economy and it took plenty of time, plenty of energy.

When did he have time to think about dating?

He dumped the books in the back of his car, thinking they could wait a few minutes when he got home. The bottle of wine he had in the fridge was the first thing he'd open. Not a book, not the mail, not the bills, not something to eat.

The wine. Then maybe he'd start a fire. A nice way to end a rainy day.

The cold, wet drizzle had lasted throughout the day—it was great for bringing in customers, but now it was turning into a downpour. When he got home, he might call Tiffany and tell her she could close up if she wanted. This wasn't the sort of weather that would bring out the customers.

People wanted to spend nights like this inside, curled up with a good book, a movie, a lover…

Zoe…

Sometimes, he thought he was just used to looking for her…everywhere.

Maybe that was why he saw her so easily.

Sitting on a bench on the green, even thought the weather wasn't exactly ideal. Mid-forties and the rain was colder than ice.

Sitting there, staring at nothing.

Zoe.

Slamming on the brakes, he stared at her.

She didn't notice. She was staring straight ahead, so still, so motionless. She could have been a statue. Her hair was wet, hanging down her back in dark gold ropes, a few tendrils curling around her heart-shaped face. Her mouth was unsmiling, her eyes wide and unblinking.

His heart bumped against his ribcage and he pulled his car over to the side of the road and got out.

In the past few months, they'd bumped into each other a few times. Always casual, and every single time, Roger had been there.

Not once had he been alone with her.

Not once had he been with her without Roger's presence to serve as a buffer.

Chase couldn't have said if that was a good thing or bad thing.

Now, as he crouched down in front of her, he realized he felt about as nervous as he had the first time he'd asked her out. How many years ago? Eighteen years. Eighteen years ago now…they'd been together almost all through high school.

"Zoe?"

She blinked slowly and shifted her eyes to his face. A slow, polite smile tugged at her lips and she murmured, "Hello, Chase. How are you this evening?"

He peered up at the sky and then looked back at her. Rain clung to her lashes, dripped off her nose. She didn't seem to notice.

"Well, kind of wet." Very wet. The rain was already snaking down past his collar, inside his shirt to trickle down his spine, and it was so damn cold. "Zoe, what are you doing sitting out here? It's pouring out. Are you okay? Is…is your mom all right?"

He'd heard about her mother. Shit, that had to be hell. Zoe's relationship with her hadn't ever been easy, and now the woman was in a nursing home because she couldn't take care of herself anymore. Couldn't take care of herself, and there was no way she'd let Zoe do it, if even half of the stories he heard were true. She'd never been a pleasant woman, but lately, it was worse.

Zoe just stared at him. In the poor light, he could hardly make out her eyes, but he knew that soft, pale green better than he knew the color of his own eyes. They were too dark, the pupils large and dilated…shock, he realized.

Reaching out, he touched her hand. "Zoe?" he said quietly.

She blinked, a slow drift of her lashes over her eyes and then she looked down at his hand touching hers. When she looked up at him, there was some sense of awareness in her eyes, but only just. "Hello, Chase," she said, again.

Hello, Chase.

Like she had bumped into him on the street.

Not like he'd found her sitting in the middle of downpour, sitting alone in the square. Scowling, he closed his fingers around her wrist and tugged as he stood. "Come on, I'm taking you home."

He was half-prepared for her to argue.

There was a time when she would have.

But she followed along behind him, not saying a word.

He wasn't sure what bothered him more—her silence now, or the way he'd found her.

standard Samhain stuff…coming out in ebook first, if it comes out in print, not sure when it will be, but I'll post that info to the blog when I know…:)

The Friday 56… The helping out the edition

Today is a special edition… if you're new here, I hope you'll stick with me.  First up, the book…a good book. But the special part is down below.Night of the Loving Dead

by Casey Daniels

This time, my loyalty to Dan didn't impress Madeline.

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.

Here's the helping out part…

Image by Photographer Nick de Villier | found @ macey.com

Here in the states, a lot of people haven't heard much about the Queensland floods. The last I heard, areas larger than the states of Texas and California had been covered with water. From what I've read, eighteen people have died, fourteen people are still missing.

Other facts: (all information found at Couriermail.com.au, last updated January 16)

BRISBANE:

At the flood peak 11,900 homes and 2500 businesses completely flooded.
At the flood peak 14,700 homes and 2500 businesses partially flooded.

IPSWICH:

At the peak more than 2000 homes and 1000 businesses affected by flooding.
179 people still sheltering in evacuation centres.

You can imagine they could probably use some help…okay, a lot of help.

Here's an easy way you can help. Just comment on today's Friday 56-grab whatever book is closest to you, turn to the 56th page and type in the 5th line.

If I get 56 comments, I'll donate $56 to the Distaster relief…it will either be via through the for Premier's Disaster Relief Appeal or through the Australian Red Cross (trying to figure out how complicated/how to do it through the premier's website). *for purposes of simplicity, I am not counting comments made via through my facebook or other feeds.  Only my blog at my site.

Also, if anybody-like one of my Aussie or New Zealand readers- know about a reliable charity that takes PayPal donations, please tell me-I do reserve the right to change the recipient of the donation-it will still be one located in Australia dealing with disaster relief. PayPal would make this international thing verra simple.

I know $56 doesn't sound like much. But every little bit helps and here's an easy way to make me give away money.  Just do the Friday 56.  And if you feel moved to make a donation… well, like I said every little bit helps.

*disclaimer… having some trouble with my hands, and I'm back to using my voice software. FYI it translates some very strange things. Like just now I just said translate–it wrote berries. Usually I catch the weird ones, but not always.  If you see something weird, I'm blaming the software. I can't spend an hour editing a blog post.

Also…I won't be around much to reply to anything, sadly I'm required elsewhere, wearing a non-writer hat, but I can't tell you why and I'm even going to behave and not expound on how silly that is.  But those of you who know about the other hat can figure it out-however, do not ask me because I can't answer.  Normally I wouldn't worry about the telling thing, but the kind and nice overlords who have asked for my help…well, I like them and they need me.  Soooo…alas, I'll comply.

If You Hear Her…

Gee. will it look really dorky if I ask for a drum roll?  I'm so nervous/terrified/excited about this trilogy…

LOOK!  I HAZ BLURB!

A CRY IN THE WOODS

The scream Lena Riddle hears in the woods behind her house is enough to curdle her blood—she has no doubt that a woman is in real danger. Unfortunately, with no physical evidence, the local law officers in small-town Ash, Kentucky, dismiss her claim. But Lena knows what she heard—and it leaves her filled with fear and frustration.

Ezra King is on leave from the state police, but he can't escape the guilty memories that haunt his dreams. When he sees Lena, he is immediately drawn to her. He aches to touch her—to be touched by her—but is he too burdened by his tragic past to get close? When Ezra hears her story of an unknown woman's screams, his instincts tell him that Lena's life is also at risk—and his desire to protect her is as fierce as his need to possess her.

*

disclaimer… I think it's due out late this year or early next. I'll post for sure when I know. This is also the trilogy that's being translated into Germany…