Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 29

Moonlight and Magnolias Recap – Writer’s Camp and more

First… Pappadeauxs.  Where have you been all my life…and stay out of Louisville, please.  I will be broke and I’ll be the seize of an elephant.

I hung out with some lovely ladies and had a blast.  I was only able to make it into two workshops, mostly because I’m trying to keep up on a side project and a new project I’ve started.

Those two workshops though were fantastic.  Roxanne St. Claire and Kristen Painter were in both and I’ve already started implenting a few suggestions from one of them.

The other requires team work…it’s Writer’s Camp. Like a daycamp. For writers.  They meet at a library or at each other’s houses or even via Skype and just…write.  I need this.  So bad.

I had two workshops and I think I at least entertained people…  there was Newby Author Bootcamp and then Writing Hot.  One involved bad words.  Guess which one?

I’ve already been asked to submit the Newby Author one again, so I guess that means I did a good job.

And I sold books at the bookfair.  That is ALWAYS a plus.

If you’re an aspiring or established writer and haven’t been to Moonlight and Magnolias (with Georgia Romance Writers), you should go.  It’s a great conference.

The post Moonlight and Magnolias Recap – Writer’s Camp and more appeared first on Shiloh Walker.

Star Wars…!!!! And Moonlighting…

Kinda sorta, they go together.  Stars. Moons.

Fine, don’t work with me…

Hey, Atlanta… I’m in you! Also… a Hunter book.

I’m reissuing Hunters Belonging in October!  ALSO!!! It has two, yes TWO, bonus books… Back From Hell and Nebulous

 

Being a vampire can suck. Corinne Lewis will be the first to testify to that. She went through the “change” but it certainly didn’t change her all that much.

Still shy, quiet and a wallflower, she doesn’t fit in with the rest of the vampires or other paranormal creatures at Excelsior, the school that trains the elite Hunters. She lives there now, working for the people who took her in after the vampire attack that changed her and left her too afraid to cope with undead life—and everything else.

Of course…there are some changes, and they are awkward. She was never really liked sex, always thought she might be frigid, but now she needs it. A lot. One night, unable to go to the men at Excelsior, she goes in search of a one-night stand and finds herself facing a blast from the past.

But once he discovers who she is, can he forgive her?

And can she let him go?

Excerpt

“Look at me,” he rasped. “I can’t see you. I need to see you. You want this to happen?”

“It’s dark…you can’t see me.” Then she slipped her hands under the waistbands of his jeans and boxers and pushed them down. “I want it to happen. Make it happen.”

He squinted in the darkness, desperate to see her face. See her mouth. Hell, even taste her mouth because every time he tried to kiss her, she turned her face away. Soft, warm fingers stroked his cock and then lower, cupping his balls in her hand. She squeezed, light and quick. “Make it happen.”

With a snarl, Levi caught her hips in his hands, wedging her thighs apart. She cried out as he pressed the rounded cock head against her slick, wet heat and then whimpered as he pushed inside. Deep, deep—her pussy tight, hot and slick around his dick, clenching down, almost resisting his intrusion even as she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched, trying to take more of him.

“Fuck….” He wheezed out, his eyes almost crossing from the pleasure as she convulsed around him. She whimpered, doing a mad little shimmy with her hips that was doing a serious number on his already faulty self-control. “Baby, slow down, please—fuck, you’re killing me.”

“I’m dying.” She pressed her mouth to his neck and kissed him, her tongue rough and warm against his flesh, leaving a burning trail. “I hurt. I hurt so bad. Make it stop.”

“Hurt—fuck,” he swore, started to pull out. “I’m hurting you.”

She tightened her legs, squeezing with a strength that seemed at complete odds with her slender, delicate muscles. “Don’t stop.”

It was a soft, desperate plea and the sound of it almost broke his heart.

“Please don’t stop. I’m so empty inside. I hurt so much.” Her breath hiccupped in her throat.

Threading a hand through her hair, he tugged, once more trying to see her face. Overhead, the clouds parted, revealing just a thin slice of the moon before it disappeared once more. That faint flash of silvery light splashed across part of her face, highlighting just her eyes, but he couldn’t even look into her eyes because they were closed. The hot, slick walls of her pussy convulsed around his cock and she rocked against him, trying to take him deep, ride him hard. Hunger burned, threatening to blister both of them.

He pressed his lips to her temple. “I won’t stop. Hold on to me.” He guided her arms around his shoulders and then slid one hand down the smooth flesh of one thigh, anchoring her knee against his flank as he rotated his hips. She moaned. Levi did it again and again. Shifted his weight so that he rode high on her body as he shafted her, the head of his cock rubbing over that one sensitized area high in her pussy.

Pressing his mouth to her neck, he nuzzled her, licked her. “You taste sweet,” he rasped, raking her skin with his teeth.

She cried out and cupped her hand over the back of his head, holding him tightly against her. Against his belly, he could feel the ripple of muscles contracting in her abdomen. Her body all but shuddered with the force of her need—a swirling violent maelstrom that threatened to suck Levi under as well.

“Do it again,” she whispered into his ear then she arched her neck, baring it for him.

Amazon | Kobo

(more links coming)

Due out 10/17!

And…

I’ve got a signing in Atlanta!

I’m in town for Moonlight and Magnolias and I’m signing books this Saturday…wanna come see me? (psst…the answer is yes…)

Book Fair & Author Autographing Event 

Georgia Romance Writers and The Book Exchange will host a Book Fair & Author Autographing for Literacy,  The book fair will be free and open to the public .

Date: Saturday, October 1

Time: 3:30 – 5:00 PM

Location:

Hilton Atlanta Northeast

5993 Peachtree Industrial Blvd

Peachtree Corners, GA 30092

(770) 447-4747

Bookstore hosted by The Book Exchange

The post Hey, Atlanta… I’m in you! Also… a Hunter book. appeared first on Shiloh Walker.

Depression and humor

For somebody who doesn’t suffer from it or get it, it doesn’t seem like the two topics would go together, but they go together surprisingly well.

I’ve been dealing with depression off and on for most of my adult life and I cope well enough.  I’ve got a great family, a great guy and a career that I know a lot of people only dream of…even if it’s still sometimes like a car sputtering to stay alive.

Coping mechanisms are one thing I’ve developed pretty well, and humor is necessary. It’s been a rough week and I was looking for funny pics on giving up. Yes…funny pics on giving up. (Don’t freak out…I’m not giving up.  I just needed a smile.)

Usually it’s a cat picture or something like that.

Today, I found this.

Everyone is welcomed! http://t.co/k8BtxyuQ2E pic.twitter.com/wpzWV6olwP

— 9GAG (@9GAG) June 10, 2015

Show of hands…who wants to be here?

 

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I’ll be here, here, here…anywhere…

Okay, not anywhere.

But I’ve got some things coming up!  If you’ll be attending, I’ll have some books I can bring…if you want them, please fill out the pre-order form, so I know to bring enough.

Preorder form

Atlanta! At Moonlight & Magnolias.  This is a writer’s conference but there’s a booksigning that is open to the public.

Book Fair info

Orlando!  At Shameless Weekend and ticket sales are still going on. Come see me, Shayla Black, Carly Phillips and a whole bunch of others. But come on…really. Come see me.

Buy TIckets

Birmingham! At the Southern Magic Luncheon. Come have lunch with me and other fabulous authors, including Jennifer Ashley, Sherrilyn Kenyon and Dianna Love. But, again…come on…you wanna see me, right?

Buy Tickets

Cincinnati! At Wester BN, for the Romancing the Holidays booksigning.  Annual event.  I’m usually there, unless I’m not.

Writing POC…and being white

Okay, I hope I’m not stepping into a landmine.  I debated on whether or not I should even post this and it boiled down to this.

I wanted to. If I didn’t, it was because I was being a chickenshit.

And I don’t do chicken.

There was a blogpost the other day. I saw it on twitter. I’m not linking to it.  It’s a version of one we’ve probably all seen before…

White author asking…I’ve got this idea…POC heroine, how can I write her story and do her justice…fill in the blank.

FYI, this post is not about me trying to fill that quota of ‘writing diverse romance’ or ‘trying to write more diversely’.

I do not want to take any shine from authors of color…there are great ones out there and they don’t enough shine as it is. Check out a couple of my personal favorites, Farrah Rochon & Phyllis Bourne.

This is about white authors and writing POC. Because frankly, unless you want to whitewash your entire world, I think POC belong in the books we read.

I’ve written any number of books with POC and I’ve been doing this almost from the beginning.  I think my first really big character was Leandra, a black woman who I introduced in my Hunters series…inspired by Kendra, the vampire slayer, because she was awesome, thank you.  That was why I created Leandra–I loved this bad-ass vampire slayer and I wanted to write somebody like her.

Then there was The Missing.  One of my most popular books, even now.  The heroine was biracial, half-black, half white, grew up in the south and fell in love with a rich white boy.  Were they driven apart because his rich white parents didn’t like her blackness?

No.  They were driven apart because of her psychic abilities…see, Taige was psychic.  They fell in love as teens. It was a summer love sort of thing.  When Cullen was about 19…ish? Going by memory, his mother was murdered. And he blamed Taige, because he knew about her abilities. In his grief, he needed somebody to blame, and he thought she should have been able to save his mom.  Was he right to do that? Of course not.  But do things like this happen? Yes.  In grief, we lash out at those we love all the time. And Taige blamed herself as well.  They split up and it took them years to find each other again.

Then there was the follow-up book to that.  Black heroine, white hero.  The hero was an ass. Heroine loved him anyway.  He pushed her away because he saw that love and he didn’t think he deserved it–and he was probably right…again, he was an ass. I tell everybody that was the asshole’s book. It’s called The Departed.

Then The Protected.  The heroine is black.  The hero is Latino.  I emailed, long hard and often with a friend to get some serious Spanish cussing in that one, let me tell you. What drove them apart? Hero was an ass.  (See a theme here?)

Then there was Busted…one of my more recent books.  Heroine is black. Hero is white. Both are raising kids.  Color isn’t what comes into play here.  Is the heroine’s color part of her? Of course it. There is even a part where her aunt sort of tears into her…

“But . . .”

Angeline “No buts. I’m not saying it will be easy. You probably already have some challenges. Shoot, we still don’t live in a world where a black woman can marry a white man without people giving us the side eye. That’s one hurdle you’ll have to handle already. That he’s a public figure . . . that makes another one. But if you care for him, and he cares for you, those are just details.”

Just details . . .

“You make it sound so simple,” she said, her heart twisting.

What was driving them apart? It was doubts the heroine had. Not about their races, mind you…yes, she’s aware that race will be an issue for others, but her problem is one that comes from her past and whether or not he can get over it.

These are just a few of them.  I’ve got others.  I’m at the point to where I can’t even keep track of all my books. But there’s IF YOU KNOW HER and the love interest in my UF series, Damon, he’s half black, half…well (I’m not filling that blank in yet.)  Her best friend, Justin is about a quarter black, and 125% trouble, btw.

Is the character’s race important to them as I write the book? Absolutely.  I wanted to be as true to the character as I can and make them as real as I can.  I can’t be black, I won’t pretend to be, but I want to learn as much cultural information as I can when I’m writing.  When i first started out, I talked to my sister-in-law a lot.  She’s black.  I asked her if she’d mind if I asked her some things that would help me make the character more authentic–without trying to make this into a black woman’s journey. Again, I can’t write that. But I can write about a woman falling in love.  However, this is a woman who is black (or half black, depending on the book.)

There are things a lot of white women aren’t going to consider…a black woman doesn’t wash her hair as often as most white people. I say most, because if you’re curly-haired, like me, maybe you only wash a few times a week.  If your character has dreads, plaits, etc, there’s care that goes into them.  Hair is important to a black woman (and the guys), and i wanted to respect this.

Just like when I was writing the book with a Latino, I wanted to make sure I understood other cultural things. Some of the language, how this man might feel when he was put into the circumstance he was put into.

So…carrying on…how do I, being a white woman, write about black women or Latino women?  Why do I write characters of color?

I can’t write about a black woman’s experience. I can’t write about a Latino woman’s experience. I am white.  I have white privilege and I know this.

But I can write about a woman’s experience. I can write about falling in love. I can write about the struggle a couple faces, the ups and the downs. I can write about the fear a man might feel if the kid he’s been charged to protect is suddenly thrust into danger.

These are human emotions.

Not every I/R book has to have the I/R angst you see in so many of them…and I know this is factual because this is one thing I can write about with experience.  See, I’m involved with a guy. He’s not white.  How often has this fact caused angst in our relationship?

0

Yep.  We’ve been together for twenty-five years and the two of us have never had any sort of ground-shaking, earth-shattering dilemma about the fact that we don’t have the same skin color. I don’t think he fell in love with me because of my ivory white skin–okay, I do tend to redden easily.  And I didn’t fall in love with him because of his wicked, savagely savage Native American ruggedness.

We fell in love with each other for who we were–and we love each other for we are.

These are emotions.

I can write about emotions, because that’s what a romance writer does.

We write about that experience and if we don’t write people of color into our stories, then we’re whitewashing the world we’re creating.  The world I live in doesn’t have all white people.

I want the worlds I write to reflect the world I live in. Only better sometimes, with happy endings for everybody but the bad guys.

And that means I’m not going to write just white people. Because my readers aren’t just white.  And here’s one of the reasons why I think it’s the right thing to do…

This is a copy of a reader email-just the text, sans name, etc, because I’m respected her privacy.

Hey, I read BUSTED and I LOVED seeing a black woman as the main character. Thanks so much…it’s awesome getting to read books with characters that look more like me.

This is far from the first time I’ve gotten an email like this.

If an author thinks the road to take is not writing any POC in her books, then that’s up to her.  But the world isn’t white.  Too many things cater solely to whites and too many things are done to make whites more comfortable.

Too much romance is already hugely white as it is and considering how multi-cultural the reader and authorship is, that’s BS.

If you’re doing it wrong now…be brave enough to figure out what you did wrong, and learn from it. Avoidance isn’t learning.

So…there’s my two cents.

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#NeverForget

image via waterscapeman on photobucket

The post #NeverForget appeared first on Shiloh Walker.

Not one, but two…and they both start with S

What am I talking about?  Books, of course…

Marc has a secret admirer…or maybe not so secret.

The black and white photographs were the first clue. The silk scarf was the second. Marc didn’t need any other hints.

The sensual, secretive gifts were all Blush Taylor. Blush-the girl who had driven him crazy since high school.

The question is…why is she taunting him with these sexy gifts? And why now?

includes a bonus story, One Night With You

Excerpt

“So what’s it like to be almost old, Doc?”

He lifted his eyes and stared into Blush’s merry brown eyes.

“What?”

“You’re thirty-five now…few more years, you’ll be forty. We used to think that was ancient,” she teased him lightly, propping her shoulder against the door. “How does it feel?”

He clutched the scarf in his hand, crushing it. A scent, soft, seductive…familiar …drifted up to tease him and his eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he dragged more of it into his lungs, all the while staring at Blush.

Her scent was on that scarf.

He had to force a slight smile, and he knew that his voice sounded like rusty nails as he responded, “Can’t say just yet, Blush.” Then he couldn’t resist as he added, “Why don’t you come and give me a spin?”

Her eyes widened. The tip of a pink tongue darted out to wet her lips—if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was speechless.

Her eyes fell to the pile on his desk and she asked softly, “Birthday present?”

He grinned wickedly, “I’d say. Wanna take a look?”

She blushed. Her trademark.

And he knew.

“I’ve got stuff to do. I’ll have to take a rain check.”

Amazon | BN | Kobo | iBooks

SEALIONAIRE: Book 2

A Navy SEAL Romance

Former Navy SEAL Adam “Reaper” Dedman is cruising toward the bottom of the pit of despair. The Navy has washed their hands of him and now he’s got nothing else to do but waste the rest of his life. Or so he thinks.

Down on his luck and running out of choices, Reaper agrees to meet the man who walked away from his mother. If not for anything else, it’ll give him another chance to get close to the mysterious but oh so sexy, Olivia “O” Darling.

Don’t miss Book 2 of the sexy Navy SEAL romance trilogy, SEALionaire, as it turns up the heat.

includes a bonus story from M.S. Parker

Excerpt

Play games. Please…play games. Or let me play them.

“You going to tell me how long you’ve been back? Or are you in the mood to play games?” She stared out over the yard, her expression bland.

“Well, let me think.” I ran my tongue across my teeth and did a quick mental calculation.  “Probably about thirteen hours, give or take.”

“Thirteen hours. Give or take.”  She seemed to turn that over in her head, then nodded.  “I don’t want to sound rude, but you look like shit.”

“You don’t.” It popped out of me without me realizing I’d planned on saying it.

It was the truth though.  She’d done…something. It was subtle.  Her hair was a little different. Softer somehow, but nothing major.  And the blocky, ugly suits she’d worn each time I’d seen her were gone.

She wore red.

Power red.  That’s what it had to be.  The LT was married and his wife had used that term a time or two.  Tina—Hawk’s wife—ran her own marketing and promotions company out of her home, as well as raising her son.  I was sort of terrified of the woman, if I had to be honest.  I can recall a barbeque he’d had at his place once and some of the women had been gushing over a pair of red shoes one of the women had been looking at one a computer but they’d hated the price and Tina had said, Get them and screw the price…every woman needs a pair of shoes in that shade of red at least once.  Power red. It makes the world sit up and notice.

Only it wasn’t a red pair of shoes O was wearing.

It was a form-fitting dress that highlighted those long legs and those strong shoulders and I wanted to peel that skirt up and find out what she was wearing underneath—then I wanted to get rid of it and bury myself inside her.

Tina was right.  That shade of red made the world—and my dick—sit up and take notice.

Currently only available on KIndle.  Will be available on other platforms in 90 days.

Amazon

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Kindle Readers! SEALionaire: A Military Romance

SEALionaire: Book 1

Navy SEAL, Adam “Reaper” Dedman, has lost almost everything he holds dear, and is about to lose the last thing that’s keeping him alive – his career in the US Navy.

After Reaper gets arrested for nearly killing five men in a bar fight, a mystery women, Olivia “O” Darling shows up, telling him she’s there to help him. That his life not over. In fact, it could be just beginning. All he has to do is agree to meet the father he’s never known.

But Reaper isn’t big on the forgive and forget part. His dad was never part of his life in the past. Why now? Besides, he doesn’t have time for complications. The US Navy is looking to hammer him for the trouble he’s caused. So everything else will have to wait. And that includes the sexy Olivia Darling.

Don’t miss SEALionaire, the exciting new military romance by bestselling authors, Shiloh Walker and M. S. Parker.

Amazon

Book 1…look for books 2 & 3 every other Friday!

At this time, SEALionaire is only available on Kindle.  It will be released on other platforms in 90 days.

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Meet the Reaper…SEALionaire. Out tomorrow

Navy SEAL, Adam “Reaper” Dedman, has lost almost everything he holds dear, and is about to lose the last thing that’s keeping him alive – his career in the US Navy.

After Reaper gets arrested for nearly killing five men in a bar fight, a mystery women, Olivia “O” Darling shows up, telling him she’s there to help him. That his life not over. In fact, it could be just beginning. All he has to do is agree to meet the father he’s never known.

But Reaper isn’t big on the forgive and forget part. His dad was never part of his life in the past. Why now? Besides, he doesn’t have time for complications. The US Navy is looking to hammer him for the trouble he’s caused. So everything else will have to wait. And that includes the sexy Olivia Darling.

* * * *

My gut twisted and burned.  Not just with shame, but with rage, directed at myself.  I’d dishonored my mother, my rank.  What were the chances it was my superior out there, looking to peel some skin off my hide?  The guy with the brain bleed…shit, I couldn’t feel bad about that. He’d come at my back and I’d done what I was trained to do.  But I wouldn’t have been in jail for him to come at my back if I hadn’t been stupid enough—angry enough—to goad a couple of assholes into a fight at some no-name dive.

The cop behind me nudged me aside and opened a door, stepping out of the way so I could enter.  Taking one breath to brace myself, I stepped inside.

That bracing breath escaped in a soft sigh as I found myself staring at a complete and total stranger.

A sexy one, too, clad in a neat black suit that had probably been selected because it was prim and proper, with a short, fitted jacket and trousers that were equally fitted and made me aware that her ass was top-rate.

Short black hair felt in the middle of her neck.  She stood with her back to me, staring out a window not much bigger than a couple of shoeboxes. Strong stubborn shoulders and a long, elegant back tapered down to a narrow waist before flaring out to the kind of hips a man could fill his hands with. Idly, I wondered if her skin was as soft and pale as it looked.

When the door closed, she turned to me.

I almost had to take another breath, because her eyes were…shocking.

Purple-blue.  Kind of like some of the flowers my mom liked—had liked…she was gone now.  A wave of grief tried slam into me but I shoved it down.

Taking a few steps into the room, still holding her gaze, I waited for her to speak.

She didn’t.

“I don’t recall retaining a lawyer,” I said finally.

“Getting a lawyer would be wise.”  She strode to the desk and sat down, moving with an efficiency I found way too appealing. As she sat down, I walked over to the desk and kicked out a chair.

“Shall I ask them to undo your cuffs?” she asked.

Cocking a brow, I said, “In the past six hours, I’ve sent five guys to the hospital.  That might not be a wise move on your part.”

“Well, I don’t plan on picking a fight with you, Chief Dedman.”  She leaned back in the chair, her lips curving in a quick smile.  “Maybe it’s me, but I think it’s kind of stupid to pick a fight with a Navy SEAL.”

Heaving out a sigh, I let my head fall back.  “Did Lieutenant Commander Hawkins send you?”

“No.”  There was a pause, very brief, and in that silence, I heard her take a deep breath.  “It wasn’t your commander, sir.”

That had me straightening, once more staring at her.  She met my gaze levelly but from the corner of my eye, I saw that she was gripping a pen tightly, so tightly that her knuckles were pressing sharp against her skin.  Those amazing, purple-blue eyes briefly flicked away and I let my gaze drift down to her mouth.  It was soft, almost too soft for her face.  The kind of soft that made a man think about kissing her, but that stubborn, strong jaw was almost enough to make a man think twice.

Almost.

Her eyes swung back to mine just as I forced myself to push those thoughts aside.  Her lips parted and she took a deep breath, once more bracing herself.

“Chief Dedman…” She paused, then a faint smile appeared on her lips.  “I imagine you’ve heard this before, but that’s an intimidating last name.”

“Yeah.” I lifted a shoulder.  “Mom says it came from her family, way back before they moved over here from England—they were gravediggers.  Dead man.  One of those trade names like Baker or Farmer.”

“Baker or Farmer would be much less intimidating.”  She was still smiling and it got me to thinking about kissing her again.

“Yeah, well. You ought to hear what my friends call me.”

“Do tell.”  She arched a brow.

“Reaper.” Cocking my head, I waited for her to connect the dots.

“Deadman.  The Grim Reaper. Hmm.”  She nodded and blew out a slow breath.  “I guess your friends think it’s funny.”

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