Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 20

How about a snippet…

Due out May 5.29.2017

FBI Psychics Book 7

An untrained psychic, a marked man—all odds are against them.

Nyrene Goldman is having one hell of a bad week. First she finds out that her boyfriend isn’t just a two-timing bastard. He’s actually married, and she’s the other woman. Then she’s in a car wreck. The next day she wakes up with the headache to end all headaches…and she’s hearing voices and seeing visions. When those visions start to come true, she doesn’t know whether she’s going crazy or if the wreck rattled her brain.

A trip to the hospital puts her on a collision course with one seriously sexy cop. At the sight of him, everything in her screams DANGER!

Officer Bennett “Dev” Deverall is a man with a target on his back. One of the few good police officers in a nest of vipers, he’s doing his damnedest to put together a case to take out the dirty cops—before they get him. If there’s one thing he doesn’t need, it’s a damsel in distress, but while his armor might be a little tarnished these days, he’s never been one to walk away from somebody who needs him. The problem is, once he gets entangled with one Nyrene Goldman, his already screwed-up life gets even more complicated.

She knows things she shouldn’t know, tells him things nobody should know, and he can’t help but wonder if this gorgeous woman was put here to trip him up at the worst possible time.

But after a few too many close calls, he’s forced to admit there’s something weird going on with the pretty nurse. Something that can’t be explained.

The two of them wind up on a collision course with fate and now isn’t the time to doubt themselves, or each other. Not if they want to survive.

 

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Take off that damn shirt for starters, Dev thought sourly. Then his mind underwent a short circuit as he thought of her doing just that, peeling the black cotton away, revealing golden skin and a body that he was already too aware of.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, a fact he hadn’t been able to ignore when she opened the door, and now he also knew that her full breasts had tight, prominent nipples and he wanted to see how she’d react when he rolled them between his fingers, then toyed with them, using his tongue and teeth.

Not what you’re here for. Get your brain out of your dick. He lowered the towel and looked around. “Mind if I have a seat?”

“Feel free.”

He went to sit on the only chair and then stopped, sighing as the water continued to drip off. He had his own little rain puddle. “Maybe I should just stand,” he said, shaking his head.

“That’s not—”

“It’s fine.” Waving toward the couch, he said, “Feel free, though. I’ll try to keep this short.”

He instinctively turned toward the electric fireplace she had on. It was tucked against one wall, giving off a somewhat realistic impression of an actual flame, and the heat felt good, although it served to remind him of how miserably uncomfortable his uniform was.

There was a faint chiming sound and he glanced over just as she looked at her laptop. She caught her lip between her teeth and although she tried to be subtle, he noticed the way she looked at him, then away. And the way she casually closed her laptop. Just a little too casually.

“I only have a couple of questions,” he said, schooling his face into the polite, blank mask he’d perfected ages ago. “Actually, just one.”

“I don’t know if there’s much of anything else I can tell you about the accident,” she said softly. “I already called my insurance. My agent tells me the fault is clear. It will probably take a while to get it settled, but—”

“It’s not about the accident.” He moved over, eyed the wide, fat table and then decided, the hell with courtesy. He was looking over the edge into his grave anyway. Sitting down, he stared at her, eye to eye, wondering if she was yet another stumbling block they’d thrown at him, or if she was just another innocent bystander. He had to know—stumbling blocks could be dealt with. He was tired of innocent bystanders paying the price, though.

“Oh?” Her eyes widened ever so slightly and he couldn’t help but notice the darker striations of brown that splintered the golden color. She seemed all about golden warmth with those eyes and her skin.

Her hair, though, was black as night, straight as rain.

Deliberately, he clenched one hand into a fist.

Thinking about her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her ass—not going to help him learn what he needed to learn.

“The hospital,” he said.

And those golden eyes went blank.

“I’d like to know exactly what that display at the hospital was about, Ms. Goldman. Why were you so determined to keep me out of the parking garage?”

“I…” She said nothing else, just shook her head.

“Okay, then I do have a second question.” Leaning in until only a few scant inches separated them, he held her gaze for a long moment, listening as her breathing hitched, as her pupils spiked. “What does it have to do with the dead woman they found out there?”

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Been while since I blogged…

I just noticed that it’s been almost two months, to be exact.

I’ve been busy.  For now, a lot of my writing is ghostwriting, stories I’m doing for my client although I did start working on Twisted, which will be Travis Barnes’ book from the Barnes Brothers series.  The first few chapters are with my agent and we’ll see if it sells.  If it doesn’t, I’ll probably self-publish it.

I’m dealing with a lot of…stress and my depression has been worse since my brother D committed suicide back in May.  I posted about it last year and have mentioned it a few times.  He had been recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder and depression and like many with those diagnoses, struggled with the need for meds, struggled with the idea that he might need help.

In the end, he took his own life.

I’m not angry with him.  I hurt and I miss him, but I’m not angry with him.

There are things I am angry about that I won’t discuss, and unfortunately, these things are contributing to the stress I’m dealing with.  It’s had a negative impact on my creativity and I’m not writing as much for me as I usually do.

I’m cramming on books and things are slowly starting to improve, but for the first time ever, I’m dealing with writer’s block.  Some days, I don’t work on my stories at all.

A few days ago, I got a memorial tattoo done, in honor of what would have been my brother’s 40th birthday.

I *do* have some good book news…

I am working on Blade’s End, the next and final Kit Colbana book, but it’s slow going.  It may or may not release this year.  I’ll update as I work so people know where things stand.

For those who enjoy my FBI Psychics, I have a new title coming out in May.

The Doubted – FBI Psychics Book 7

An untrained psychic, a marked man—all odds are against them.

Nyrene Goldman is having one hell of a bad week. First she finds out that her boyfriend isn’t just a two-timing bastard. He’s actually married, and she’s the other woman. Then she’s in a car wreck. The next day she wakes up with the headache to end all headaches…and she’s hearing voices and seeing visions. When those visions start to come true, she doesn’t know whether she’s going crazy or if the wreck rattled her brain.

A trip to the hospital puts her on a collision course with one seriously sexy cop. At the sight of him, everything in her screams DANGER!

Officer Bennett “Dev” Deverall is a man with a target on his back. One of the few good police officers in a nest of vipers, he’s doing his damnedest to put together a case to take out the dirty cops—before they get him. If there’s one thing he doesn’t need, it’s a damsel in distress, but while his armor might be a little tarnished these days, he’s never been one to walk away from somebody who needs him. The problem is, once he gets entangled with one Nyrene Goldman, his already screwed-up life gets even more complicated.

She knows things she shouldn’t know, tells him things nobody should know, and he can’t help but wonder if this gorgeous woman was put here to trip him up at the worst possible time.

But after a few too many close calls, he’s forced to admit there’s something weird going on with the pretty nurse. Something that can’t be explained.

The two of them wind up on a collision course with fate and now isn’t the time to doubt themselves, or each other. Not if they want to survive.

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Shame is coming…just a few more days…

“I’m going to come inside and take a look around,” he announced.

“Shame,” she said, sighing, “you don’t need to do that.”

“I do.” He opened the door and met her halfway around the car, eying her as she walked and noting that she was steadier than she had been. “You’re steady now.”

“I am. I think it was just the adrenaline. You did him a lot more damage than he did to me,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t do enough.” He waited until she started for the house, then he fell into step with her, taking the keys from her to unlock the door. He held it for her, but with a hand on her shoulder, kept her from moving deeper into the house as he hit the lights and did a quick walk through the kitchen, then the living room and the rest of the lower level.

“Are you going to go upstairs and check my bedroom next?” she asked tartly. “Make sure that guy didn’t follow us out here and somehow manage to hide under my bed?”

“You’ve got a smart mouth,” Shame said, cutting a look at her. And because he was weak, he found himself staring at her mouth.

The faint swell in the middle only made him more aware of the fullness of the entire curve of her lower lip. “I don’t like seeing marks on you,” he said, voice raw.

“I know you don’t,” she said softly. “But I’m fine, and you can stop worrying.”

He told himself to do just that. But instead, he moved closer. “Did he touch you anywhere?” Shame demanded.

She blinked, looking caught off guard. “I… He grabbed my arms. They are sore, might bruise a little, but it’s no big deal.”

“Bruises are a big deal to me,” he said, his vision going a little hazy. He wanted to hunt the bastard down and put a few bruises on him.

“Shame…for crying out loud.” She sounded exasperated. To his surprise, she shrugged out of the gauzy blouse she wore.

His heart started to thud in slow, heavy beats as the material was peeled away, revealing pale skin that never freckled and sleek, toned arms. She turned to the side and brandished one arm, bared completely. She wore a tank top with thin straps and all he could think was that he could strip that shirt away in a second.

Then he saw the mottled discoloration on her arm.

“You are going to bruise,” he said, voice thick. He didn’t remember closing the distance between them, but he had, and now, as he reached out to gently trace the mark with his fingertip, he noticed that her skin had broken out in goose bumps. “You’re cold.”

Charli wasn’t looking at him. “No. I’m fine.”

But a light shiver raced down her spine.

Cupping her chin, he dragged her face around so he could see her eyes. He loved her eyes—steel blue and incisive, all the intelligence she had shining in them.

Sometimes, she looked at him and those eyes were soft, and emotions she shouldn’t be feeling for him would flicker there. When he saw that, it made him weak.

And now, those emotions were glinting in her eyes.

Groaning, he went to pull his hand away.

She caught his wrist.

“Let go, Charli,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“That’s not a reason,” she said, her voice a challenge.

“It’s reason enough,” he told her. “Let me go. I shouldn’t have come in here.”

“But a monster might have been hiding under my bed,” she teased.

There was a monster standing in front of her and she seemed blind to it.

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Check out books 1 & 2, on sale throughout February for only 0.99

Book 1

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Book 2

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Release Day… Shame and a CONTEST!

Releasing 2.26.2018

Max “Shame”’ Schaeffer knows only one way—the hard way. He lives hard, drinks hard, fights hard…and if comes to it, he figures he’ll die hard, too. The only soft thing in his life is Charli Steele, the younger sister of his two best friends. He knows she thinks she’s in love with him, but with his tarnished and messed-up past, he doesn’t see anything in him worthy of love.

Dr. Charli Steele knows more about Shame than he realizes, and she has loved him since they were kids—scars and all. He loves her, too. She is sure he does. But Shame will never give in to it. Until one brief, stolen night leads to another…and another. Then Shame decides to throw it all away. Heartbroken, she retreats, intent on trying to heal from this latest rejection. But a phone call in the middle of the night changes everything.

Shame is hurt, and he needs her.

It turns out he needs her a lot more than he realizes. But will he let her in…before it’s too late?

* * * *

Charli didn’t seem to mind his lack of response, running her tongue over his top lip before moving to the lower one, flirting with the seam of his lips before starting it all over again, teasing and taunting him.

When he still didn’t move, she eased away. But if he expected her to be dejected by the fact that he still wasn’t reacting…well, he had to remember. This was Charli Steele. And what Charli wanted, Charli got.

The determination glinted in her eyes as she pulled back.

If he was a smart man, one who believed in self-preservation, he would have turned and run like hell.

But maybe he was tired of fighting a need that tied him in knots.

So he just stood there as she reached for the waistband of her skin-skimming tank top and peeled it away, proving that she, too, could dispose of the shirt in a second.

Under it, she wore a bra the same color as the tank—midnight blue—and her skin gleamed like satin against it. He’d been with women who wore lingerie so exotic it boggled the mind. Yet there was nothing he’d ever seen as sexy as Charli in a dark blue bra and her jeans. She moved closer again and wrapped her arms around his neck. “How long you think you can hold out?” she whispered against his lips.

That was a damn good question.

The feel of her skin against his was a temptation he wasn’t sure he could handle.

It was a torment he wanted more than anything.

He didn’t like to be touched during sex.

He’d do all the touching, all the fucking, all the everything, but having Charli dip her hands into his hair as she slanted her mouth over his was a sweet, sweet pleasure and he groaned as she licked at his mouth.

That faint noise had his mouth open just the slightest and he tensed as she teased her way past his lips, bringing with her his first real taste of her.

It was a drug.

It was the drug.

The drug he’d crave the rest of his life.

And that was the second crack in his control.

As he opened wider for her kiss, she curled around him and thrust her tongue past his lips. Her nails scraped over his scalp and he shivered, thinking about feeling those short, neat nails scraping over other parts of him.

She arched against him, and even though he knew it wasn’t possible, he imagined he could feel the heat, separated by layers of denim and cloth. He wanted to strip away her jeans, peel off her panties and kneel in front of her, taste the wet heat of her pussy, then lift her up and impale her on his cock.

That image didn’t quite shatter his control.

But her shaky voice as she whispered against his lips? That did him in. “I want you, Max. Please don’t act like you don’t want me back.”

His control shattered, falling to tiny pieces around him.

Shoving a hand into her hair, he yanked her head back and took control of the kiss just as she went to slide her tongue into his mouth again. He caught that sweet thing and sucked on her, feeling her shake against him. Her nipples were stiff points, stabbing at him through the silk of her bra and he reached up and yanked the straps down her shoulders to bare her breasts.

He pulled back to stare at her, desperate to feast his eyes on a sight that he’d fantasized about for years.

Charli was petite, but she was also stacked. As he cupped her breasts in his palms, she arched against him, filling his hands to overflowing. “Not want you?” he muttered as he lightly tweaked her left nipple. “I don’t know, Charli.” He caught her hip in his hand and dragged her up against him, letting her feel the weight of his erection against her belly. “Does this feel like I want you?”

She whimpered, her eyes going wide as he boosted her up and planted her against the door. “Maybe you didn’t get a good enough idea,” he said, his cock now cuddled between her thighs. “You think I want you?”

Her breath caught in her throat.

It made her tits rise and fall and he swore, lifting her left breast up so he could close his mouth around her nipple. She shrieked as he bit down lightly.

And this time, he knew he wasn’t imagining anything as a rush of warmth centered between Charli’s thighs.

Dragging his mouth from hers, he met her fogged gaze and said, “You better call a stop to this now, before it’s too late.”

“You think I’ve spent the past few years trying to get you to pay attention to me to back away now?” She reached up and caught his neck, dragging his mouth back to hers.

She bit his lower lip and he growled in response, urged on by the wildness of her kiss. Crazed by it even.

He let her legs go and reached for the zipper of her jeans, desperate now to have her wrapped around his dick.

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Cover Reveal – F*CK CLUB: SHAME

Cover Reveal
F*CK CLUB: SHAME
3rd in a series, written to stand alone

Max “Shame”’ Schaeffer knows only one way—the hard way.  He lives hard, drinks hard, fights hard…and if comes to it, he figures he’ll die hard, too. The only soft thing in his life is Charli Steele, the younger sister of his two best friends.  He knows she thinks she’s in love with him, but with his tarnished and messed-up past, he doesn’t see anything in him worthy of love.

Dr. Charli Steele knows more about Shame than he realizes, and she has loved him since they were kids—scars and all.  He loves her, too. She is sure he does. But Shame will never give in to it. Until one brief, stolen night leads to another…and another. Then Shame decides to throw it all away. Heartbroken, she retreats, intent on trying to heal from this latest rejection.  But a phone call in the middle of the night changes everything.

Shame is hurt, and he needs her.

It turns out he needs her a lot more than he realizes.  But will he let her in…before it’s too late?

Releasing 2.26.2018

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Check out the first 2 books…on sale now

Book 1

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Book 2

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Read More F*CK CLUB

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F*CK CLUB NEWS!!

Shame’s book is done and off to the proofreader! It will be out at the end of February and I’ll have the cover posted in a few more days…

But for now!

Did you miss books 1 & 2?

They are on sale!

Check out the first 2 books…on sale now

 

Book 1

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Book 2

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Read More at F*CK CLUB

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Now available… The Innocent

The Innocent – An FBI Psychic Novella

There’s only one reason Jay Roberts would set foot in a middle-of-nowhere town like Hell, Georgia. She’s got a bone to pick with her sort-of boyfriend. They only met online, but things got hot and heavy before their cyber link went silent.

She’s here to get in his face for an explanation. But no touching. Her psychic abilities make physical contact…complicated. Yet something about this relationship made her think things would be different. She’s not in Hell twenty minutes before bad vibes have her skin crawling.

Corruption has stained the very fabric of Linc Dawson’s town, and now it’s stolen something very dear to him. The last thing he has time for is nursing Jay’s broken heart.

But Jay isn’t going anywhere. Not only because she’s not giving up on him, because she’s got access to the kind of backup nobody wants on their bad side. And Linc discovers the woman who’s afraid to touch him could actually be his best chance. At salvation, at hope, at life. Maybe even love…

Warning: This book contains a not-so-naive virgin, a pissed-off former cop, lots of frustration, if you know what I mean, and more trouble than either of them know what to do with.

Excerpt

The relief that hit him was almost devastating. Head swimming, he collapsed back against the window sill, clutching her against him. “But you… Morgan…”

“My boss.” She rested her brow against his chest. “I had a feeling there was going to be trouble and she sent Taige here to help me cover my ass. Linc, there are some big-ass problems going on here and I need to know what’s going on with your daughter.”

He stared at her face, her eyes, vivid and intent.

The tension, the fear that had been mounting in him for the past hour—more—felt like it abruptly drained out of him. A little pop practically sounded in his ear and he sagged, hauling her against him, uncaring of the blood that stained her shirt. It didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered.

He had a reprieve.

He was a cop and he knew what the truth was, knew it waited for him.

But that wasn’t why Jay was here.

All that frustration and fear came out of him in a shaking sigh and he slowly lifted his head, stared into her eyes.

Then, focused on just one thing, he nodded. “That’s not why you came.”

She touched his cheek. “No.”

Eyes closed, he pressed his brow to hers. Everything else could wait. He drew her body against his, breathed in the warm, soft scent of her. Right now, this was all that mattered. He could have one night where he pushed everything to the side…right?

 

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Reissue – Hunter’s Edge –

Hunter’s Edge

Some love can last a lifetime—their love was destined to last longer.

Angel’s first words to Kel were I’m going to marry you. She was seven at the time. He was eight. And he didn’t laugh when she spoke the words. Best friends as children, lovers as young adults, they had an unexplainable bond. Their future looked set. Until the night they were attacked by a creature that couldn’t exist.

Angel survived the attack—barely. But Kel didn’t. Or at least, nobody thought he did. His body was never found and Angel’s life would never be the same.

The attack might not have killed Kel’s body, but it sure as hell killed his heart. Twelve years later, there’s one part of his former life that he can’t move past. Angel. He can’t let her go, but he can’t have her either. She doesn’t even realize he is still alive.

But when a threat surfaces, Kel’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect Angel. Even if it drives them both to the edge of insanity and back.

This book is part of the author’s Hunter series, but can be read as a standalone.
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Cabin Fever

Cabin fever…was the phrase coined by a parent who was trapped in a house with kids after too many snows days?

School was cancelled Friday, MLK Day was Monday, no school Tuesday…

I ended up doing what any sane writer would do.  I left the house, went to the nearest restaurant and sat in the bar, had a partially liquid lunch and wrote like a fiend.

I sat there for hours, writing like I haven’t been able to write for the past four days.  I don’t usually work as much on the weekend, but any parent can attest to how hard it is to concentrate when kids are in the house–it’s even worse when kids are in the house and bored.

Usually they decide they want to shovel driveways or something to earn some money but not this time around.  I think the temperatures of oh…11 degrees had something to do with it. Probably why they aren’t outside playing in the snow as much either.

Guitar kid was supposed to have a recording session on Monday but that got called on account of snow, too.

One thing is obvious though…they better not cancel school again or I’m going to go out and clear the roads myself.

 

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Dear Sir, The Apology Isn’t Necessary

I went shopping yesterday… had to pick up a couple pairs of jeans and saw this necklace.  I found it at Torrid, my favorite place to shop, although damn it….please, stop putting fake pockets on the jeggings.

Today we had to go to the grocery story and while we were in the produce section, I was looking at the tomatoes and when I go to move forward, a little girl was kind of…well.  Right there.  Standing next to my cart.

She gave me the sweetest smile, then reached up and touched my necklace.  She didn’t say a thing, just reached up and grabbed the rose, staring at it and smiling.

I smiled back at her and asked her, “Do you like the rose?”

She didn’t answer, but I wasn’t really expecting one.  I could hear another girl behind me, in one of those low voices that people use when they’re trying not to be heard, “Dad, get her, she’s right there.”

Poor guy had like five kids, including my new friend who really loved my necklace.  She’s still petting it and he finally realizes where she’s at maybe thirty seconds later and comes rushing up, grabbing her hand and apologizing.

But there was nothing to apologize for.  A sweet kid saw something pretty that she liked and she wanted to admire it.  I liked the necklace myself, that’s why I bought it.  I told him he didn’t need to apologize and everything was okay.

But it makes me kind of sad, because I know some people would have been bothered by the fact that a cute little girl saw a pretty rose and wanted to admire it.

There isn’t enough love in this world.  Kindness…we need more of it.

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