Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 30

#1lineWed You were standing practically naked

 

If you’re on Twitter, you might have seen #1lineWed before.

 

“It is adorable,” V insisted, dark eyes glinting with wicked humor. “I mean, come on—the two of you kissed in seventh grade. He took you to his prom or whatever it is they have for brainiacs. And he still hasn’t figured out that you have the hots for him. I mean…you were standing practically naked when he came to pick you up for that meeting and he still didn’t get the message.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “He thought I was running behind and he just sat down and worked on one of his numerous projects. Belle, you’re not dressed. I stood there another five minutes!”

Drinking wine. Watching him. She’d told him to get there an hour early for just that reason.

Glumly, she sighed. “I think what I’m going to have to do is just write it in giant block letters on his lab wall.” Pondering the possibility, Belle leaned back in her seat and sipped some sangria. The hot summer sun shone down on her mostly bare shoulders and the wind tugged at the dark hair she’d scooped up into a loose clip. “Dear Edwin Michael Reed, I’m in love with you. Please put move away from the microscope and kiss me. Love, Belle.”

 

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BOOK NEWS… SEALionaire

We’ve got billionaire ex-cons, billionaire bad boys, billionaire Doms, billionaire cowboys…so… you should have seen this coming.

Meet the SEALionaire…but…relax.  He didn’t make millions–okay–billions while out fighting the secret fight.  He did it the easy way.  He inherited it.

 

 

And guess what… it’s coming out Friday on Kindle Unlimited & Kindle.  Non-kindle readers, it will be available on the other platforms in 90 days.  I’m sorry for the wait!  I worked with a writing partner on this one and compromise is the name of the game with writing projects.  As I’m trying to branch out and build my name more, this is one of the things I’m trying. This is the first in a three book serial, but the books are being released super close, like every two weeks.

Snippet!

* * * *

I had a beautiful blonde curled around me, her hand wrapped around my cock as she moved her head up and down.

The body was willing but the brain was disengaged. Even when she climbed on top and began to move, nothing other than my dick was interested.  She made hungry little noises and because it wasn’t her fault that my mind was a few miles—and a few thousand miles—away, I rolled us after and began to drive into her, finding a rhythm that had her moaning, then mewling and finally begging me…Don’t stop, don’t stop…

When it was over, I slid away and grabbed my clothes, moving into the shower.

She was lying on her side, smiling at me when I came out.

She wasn’t all bothered to see me sliding my feet into my shoes or grabbing my wallet.

I couldn’t even remember her name, although I was sure she knew mine.  I knew her type.  She hung out at the bars nearest the base and looked for her type—SEALS, generally.  I’d seen her before and for the most part, I avoided her.  I didn’t have anything against her.  She wanted a certain rush, the same way I did.  I got mine jumping out of planes. She got hers by screwing the men she viewed as bad-asses. No harm, no foul.

“Can I see you again?” she asked.

“No.” Shaking my head, I turned to the door.  In the mirror, I saw her mouth form a pout, but I knew she wasn’t too down about it.  There was always another man in uniform.

She’d gotten what she needed from me.

I wish I’d gotten what I needed—a little bit of forgetfulness.

But I hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.

Now I had to go and find out what had really happened all the months ago.

* * * *

And hey… people in the Alabama area…wanna join me for lunch? I’m almost done getting the goodies for my reader gifts for the Southern Magic Luncheon.

Come join me!

Info here… Southern Magic.

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Strange conversations, strange clowns and audio books

It all started with a weird dream…this was a conversation between me and my husband.  I had the dream.  Behold his response.

The next day? This was the convo between my kids and me at dinner.

Bratlet: (who hasn’t read the Colbana books…she’s 10)

Who could take Kit Colbana in a fight?

Guitar Kid:

Maybe a human wiho is supernaturally fast with a gun.

Me:

No.  Humans can’t take her.  Plenty of others can, but nothing human.

Bratlet:

Like who?

Guitar Kid:

But what if the person with the gun is really, REALLY good..

Me:

Regular bullets wouldn’t kill her and dont’ forget, she’s got that weird luck thing. So, no…Lara Croft wouldn’t be able to take her.

Bratlet:

Yoda?

Guitar Kid:

Yoda might be human. We don’t know what he is. (laughter) okay. He’s not human.  He’s tiny and green.

Me:

Yoda isn’t human….but maybe a Jedi.  Jedis are kinda superhuman, right?

My husband…

just stares at all of us like we’re nuts.

I’m in two places at once today.

Well, not really.

I was at two places on Friday and forgot to blog about it.  Go visit!  Harlequin Junkies and #Readaromance.  Today, I’m at USA Today’s HEA blog, talking about second chances.

I’m attending the Barbara Vey Reader Luncheon again next year and in the facebook group, Sally Kirkpatrick decided to torment us with this headline…

>>Wisconsin folk: is this a thing? Romantic suspense writers, this plot bunny is all yours! http://bigstory.ap.org/ac6462aa517243d79bb376ac2f147639

Creepy clown scares Wisconsin city

Yep.  A clown dressed in dirty clothes is walking around holding onto black balloons.  Commence nightmares.

And….YES!  I just signed the contracts with Audible for the Kit Colbana books and Her Best Friend’s Lover. I’m not sure on production and release dates, but I’ll let you know once I know.  

The Right Kind of Trouble…out now

The Right Kind of Trouble

In the small Southern town of McKay’s Treasure, everybody knows that the handsome local police chief, Gideon Marshall, has been carrying a torch for Moira McKay. It’s also no secret that Moira has been rejecting Gideon since…forever. But after an attack from a mysterious stranger bent on taking down the McKay family, Moira becomes filled with distrust toward most men. Now she wonders whether she’s been wrong about Gideon all along—and if it’s not too late to admit him back into her life…and into her bed…

Gideon has finally convinced his wasted heart to give up on Moira, who he’s loved since he was sixteen years old. Moira’s attack changes everything, however—and he vows to protect her. But how much is he willing to risk for a woman who’s always kept him at bay…until now? And is it too late for Moira to tell him that her love for him has always been locked deep in her heart—and he holds the key?

Amazon | BN | Book Depository |iBooks | Indiebound

Excerpt

She caught one wrist in her hand, bringing his hand to her cheek.

Gideon had gone rigid and he didn’t move at all when she pressed her mouth to his palm.

She didn’t let it stop her.

She’d known he hadn’t brought her up here with any intention other than to make her rest. Gideon, ever her protector.

She didn’t want protection, though. She just wanted him. She wanted what she’d been throwing away all these years and she wanted him back for always. After she’d pressed a kiss to his palm, she nudged him back. His eyes glittered, his cheekbones standing out in stark relief against his deeply tanned skin. He was all hollows and angles and long lean lines. He’d always been able to stop her breath and the rugged masculinity of him had become even more refined over the past few years.

She caught his face and tugged.

He resisted for a minute and she was almost certain he’d pulled away.

So she rose onto her toes and pressed her lips to his chin, slid them down. When she got to his neck, his head fell to the side—slightly. It was enough. His skin was salty and warm and she could have happily spent the next few hours doing nothing but learning the taste of him all over again. She found the rapid beat of his pulse with her tongue—then her teeth.

“Fuck!” Gideon’s snarl was vicious and he tangled his hand in her hair.

She found herself trapped in the next moment, between his long, rangy body and nearest column of her poster bed. Her breath stuttered out of her as he boosted her up, shoving his hips into the cradle of hers. “Don’t,” he said, his breath coming out in ragged pants. His eyes burned as he stared at her. “You aren’t jerking me around like this again, Moira. If you don’t mean this…if you…”

He stopped and looked away and she saw his jaw clenching, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The emotion coming out of him battered at her and she wanted to draw him close, stroke away all the misery. But she’d caused this. She’d done this. Could she even begin to fix all the pain she’d brought him?

“If you’re just going to walk away again, Moira…don’t.”

He put her down and started to pace. Moira wanted to go to him, but what was she supposed to do? Pantomime what she was feeling? She’d already tried to show him and that wasn’t working.

A muttered curse caught her ears and she looked up just as he spun to face her, rage written all over his normally calm features. “You’re killing me inside, okay? You’re…”

Then he stopped, his cheeks puffing out as he blew out a slow breath. He drew in a deeper, slower one, holding it for a few seconds. She opened her mouth, but he lifted a hand.

He wasn’t asking her, though. The question was directed inward.

“Look, you can’t even talk,” he said, turning away from her. “You can’t explain what’s going on and I can’t see inside your head. We should talk about this when you can talk. Right now, I don’t know what you want—”

She reached for the buttons on her shirt. He’d never leave without looking back at her one last time.

She didn’t think.

But then again, she’d messed up something awful.

Maybe this wasn’t the right way to tell him, but there were a hundred wrong ways to let him leave. And that was without trying again. Without reaching out, the way he’d done a hundred times.

She shrugged out of her shirt while he was still standing there. Her bra fell away next.

“When you’re feeling better, we’ll have to talk any…Moira?”

She looked at him through the fringe of her hair. He’d turned around.

She found no pleasure in knowing she’d been right. She was manipulating him and she hated herself, but if this would keep him here, with her, a little longer, until she could convince him she was tired of running, tired of pushing him away?

Then she was going for it.

When she reached for the button of her jeans, her fingers shook.

Gideon was staring at her, his chest rising and falling in a harsh rhythm. She thought maybe that if she reached out then, he might have turned and walked out. So she just pushed her jeans down her thighs, along with her panties.

Naked now, she stood there waiting. She figured this was best. If he turned around rejected her while she was naked, vulnerable, maybe it would even the scales.

The old wooden boards of the floor creaked a little as he took one step, then another toward her. She licked her lips, hardly daring to breathe.

“And what about tomorrow, Mac?” he asked. “You going to push me away…again?”

She saw the answer he thought to be true in his eyes.

Slowly, she shook her head.

“Mac?”

She held out her hand.

For the longest time, he didn’t move.

Then he did—toward her.

In the time it took for her to take a deep breath—whether it was to blow out in relief or to brace herself, she didn’t know—Gideon had hauled her up against him and she found herself pressed against the wall.

 

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One more day…The Right Kind of Trouble

The Right Kind of Trouble – out tomorrow

Gideon Marshall had his hands full of dirty plates and his mind full of dirty words.

He moved into the kitchen of the big, sprawling home known as McKay’s Ferry and Moira McKay, the woman he loved more than his own life, cut a wide circle around him so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Why don’t you go out there and celebrate with them?” he asked, keeping his voice devoid of emotion.  “A double wedding, I’m sure they could use your organized self to talk details.”

Not even an hour ago, Neve McKay, the youngest of the family, had gotten engaged. Less than sixty seconds after she’d said yes, her brother Brannon had proposed to his girlfriend Hannah.  He’d been planning his proposal—Neve’s fiancé hadn’t known and had popped the question.

There was plenty to celebrate.

Moira just shrugged.  “This is a happy time for them. I’m just as good in here as I am out there. Nobody wants to talk plans tonight.”

“You could—”

The plates in her hand smacked down sharply on the edge of the counter, hitting with enough force he was surprised none of them broke.  Moira was still staring at the plates, her jaw tight.  “I could go out there and be a fifth wheel. No thanks.”

Ella Sue, a genteel sort of tyrant, came bustling in and she arched a brow at him before looking at Moira’s stiff back.  “I’m in the mood for champagne,” she announced, taking up an empty space at the counter.

While she tore the foil, Gideon turned back the sink and rinsed a few dishes off.  “I used to wonder who did all of this,” Gideon said.  He was talking just to talk and he knew it.  He didn’t care for the sound of his own voice, but it was better than that terse silence.  “You’ve got all the money in the world. You could hire people to do this stuff. Then you could hire people to hire people to do it for the people…”

Moira let out a soft, strained sigh.

He looked over at her.

Their gazes locked and held for a moment and she broke it, shifting her attention back to the pots she was putting up.  “Mom and Dad wanted to make sure we understood the value of hard work.  It’s one of the things that have kept this family honest and successful all these years—or so they say,” she said.

“I heard them tell you that, more than once.”  He blew out a breath, mind turning back to the man who used to watch him every time Gideon would escort Moira out the door for a date. “Sometimes I still expect to hear him, you know. Your dad, that voice of his. Big and powerful, echoed all through the place.”

“I know.”  She glanced over at him, smiled sadly.

A few moments later they were all done.

Ella Sue pushed a glass of champagne at each of them and then disappeared—again.

“She seems more interested in flitting in and out than anything,” he said.  He was under no illusions as to why, either.

“I heard you were out with Maris the other night.”

Moira’s voice—bright and almost too cheerful—cut through his heart like a knife.

He took a slow, deliberate sip of the champagne, the bubbles oddly flat on his tongue. It had come from the McKay cellars and chances were that the stuff cost a good grand a bottle.  But it was like water to him.  He still took another easy sip before he looked over at her.

He wasn’t surprise Moira had heard he’d been out with Maris Cordell, one of the deputies with the county sheriff’s department.  What he was surprised about was the fact that she seemed to give a damn.

She tossed her champagne back like it was moonshine and she was dying for the buzz.

“We had dinner.”  He shrugged casually and thought to himself he wouldn’t have made a bad actor.

Moira, however, never would have made it.  She gave him a sharp-edged look and said, “Isn’t that just lovely.  I bet you two have a lot to talk about.”

Gideon ran his tongue over his teeth, debated.  Then he shrugged and tossed back the rest of the bubbly wine.  He rinsed out the glass.  “I’d better head out.  I’ve got case files to last me into the next decade, so—”

“Maybe the deputy can give you hand.”

“For fuck’s sake!” He spun around and glared at her.

She gave him an innocent smile as she polished off her champagne and put the flute down.

Striding back to her, he caught her arms.  “What do you want, Moira?  It’s sure as hell not me.  I spent almost twenty years begging for you to come back to me, but you…”

Tears gleamed in her eyes as she stared up at him.

A fist grabbed him by the throat, by the heart.  “You won’t,” he said bleakly.  As the tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks, he brushed them away.  “You won’t.  You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.  Probably the only woman I’m ever going to love.  But I’m tired of standing on the sidelines, of reaching out for you only to have you push me away.  I’m tired, Moira.  I’m tired of being alone and being lonely.  You don’t want me. I get it.  But somebody else does.”

“Then go to her,” Moira said woodenly.  She twisted out of his arms and pulled back.  “I kept telling you it wasn’t going to happen, that you needed to move on, Gideon.”

She continued to stare at him with bruised eyes.

“Then why are you looking at me like I’ve broken your heart?”

Amazon | BN | Book Depository | iBooks | Indiebound

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Come join us… #BVW17

Tickets are selling out FAST… my lunch table is sold out but there are a few other tables open and you can still hang with me at breakfast and during the other free times.

There will be a pizza party, bingo, books, food, insanity and general mayhem and fun.  Come join us.

Info!

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Stuff! News! Gideon loves Moira…

The Right Kind of Trouble releases on Tuesday!

Desire won’t take no for an answer.

In the small Southern town of McKay’s Treasure, everybody knows that the handsome local police chief, Gideon Marshall, has been carrying a torch for Moira McKay. It’s also no secret that Moira has been rejecting Gideon since…forever. But after an attack from a mysterious stranger bent on taking down the McKay family, Moira becomes filled with distrust toward most men. Now she wonders whether she’s been wrong about Gideon all along—and if it’s not too late to admit him back into her life…and into her bed…

Gideon has finally convinced his wasted heart to give up on Moira, who he’s loved since he was sixteen years old. Moira’s attack changes everything, however—and he vows to protect her. But how much is he willing to risk for a woman who’s always kept him at bay…until now? And is it too late for Moira to tell him that her love for him has always been locked deep in her heart—and he holds the key?

Amazon | BN | Book Depository | iBooks | Indiebound

The guy and I celebrated our twentieth anniversary on 7.27.  Last Saturday, we renewed our vows…at the very same church where we got married.  

Another backlist…Silk Scarves & Seduction

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

links still being updated

Amazon[image error] | BN | Kobo

9/5/2016

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Meet Sebastien Barnes…Ruined, now available

 

“Back away, Marin,” he said in warning.  “Or…”

This time, he pressed his lips to her neck.

She let her head fall to the side, eyes closed.  This was stupid.

It was so stupid.

But as he skimmed his hands down her sides, she reached for his biceps and clung. Hard muscle bunched under her fingers.  He moved between her thighs more fully and through her skirt, she felt more of him and her head started to spin.

“Back away…”

She reached up and shoved her fingers into his hair, tugging his head back.

His gaze focused on her face.  “Do you see me?” she demanded.

“All the fucking time.” He bit her lower lip then stroked the small hurt with his tongue.

She almost collapsed into a whimpering puddle of want, but forced herself to keep her eyes on his face, searching for…something.  He was steady on his feet.  He was looking straight at her.

When he kissed her, Marin felt her toes start to curl and she decided she was done trying to think.

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | BN

*Ruined is releasing from Intermix, a digital only line.  It will not release in print.  See more here. Please note this was a publisher decision.

One of the Barnes brothers, Sebastien has always felt blessed. Not only does he have an amazing family, but he’s become a Hollywood golden boy who has everything he’s ever wanted—with one exception. He’s had a thing for Marin since he was a kid, but when he finally summons the courage to ask her out, she turns him down. Marin is ready to settle down, she wants commitment and stability, and Sebastien is still too much of a playboy, caught up in the wild life of the spotlight.

Still reeling from the rejection, Sebastien’s luck runs out later that night when he saves a girl from an assault. The shining knight role fits him just fine, but his armor—and his perfect life—become tarnished when the near-deadly attack lands him in the hospital. Physically scarred, he gives up acting and retreats from everybody.

If anyone can pull Sebastien back from the abyss, it’s Marin. But first she has to convince him that beauty is not only skin deep…

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Ruined…I’d rather…

 

“Maybe you should go.”

“I came here to talk to you.” Marin slid off the counter, one hand going to smooth her skirt down, while the other absently went up to smooth her hair.

That was a Hollywood queen for you, he thought. She always knew how to look her best, without even trying. “Yeah, because we’ve done so much talking—you coming into my bedroom while I was taking a shower.”

She went red. “You didn’t close the door, you overgrown moron. I was talking to her when I came in and I didn’t realize until…”

“Until what?” He came closer and lowered his face until he could breathe her in once more. “Until you saw me there, jacking off while I had the scent of you in my head and the thought of how you might taste burning a hole in me?”

Marin’s eyes went opaque and it took everything he had not to reach for her and finish what they’d started.

“You,” she said, voice shaking. “Are a jackass. It was an accident.”

“Yeah? How long did you stand there?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. While she stood gaping there, Sebastien struggled with the hunger inside him and wondered how he’d ever manage to be around her again without it destroying them both. Finally, she sputtered out, “It was hardly more than a few seconds. For goodness sake, Sebastien. You act like we’ve never seen each other naked. It’s not like I don’t know you have a dick.”

Hearing those words on her lips exploded something inside his head and he almost reached for her—again.

But he backed away instead.

“You need to go,” he said carefully. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to put my hands on you again and I won’t stop until you’re under me and moaning my name. By the time I’m done, you won’t even remember anybody else’s.”

Chin lifted mutinously, Marin glared at him. “Nice to know you’re still stuck in that teenage hormone rush, Sebastien. If you ever grow out of it, you’ll make some woman very happy one day.”

He growled and took a step forward.

Marin ignored him as she cut around the island and reached into the purse she’d left there earlier.

“I wanted to bring this out to you—okay, no, I didn’t. JD wanted me to bring it. I told him it was a waste of time and that you’d given up.” She dumped something on the island and it didn’t take more than a second for him to recognize a script.

“Take it back,” he said sourly. “I’m done.”

Marin smiled at him sweetly. “That’s what I told him. You never see anything through when it gets too hard.”

“Marin…”

“It’s okay, honey. As you get older—”

He lunged after her and she backed away, eyes widening slightly.

Finally, she was getting it.

He snatched up the manuscript as she turned and walked away. “You forgot something.”

She flipped him off over her shoulder.

“I’d rather fuck you,” he shouted at her back.

He waited for a response, but apparently she was done with his temper.

He looked down at the script and in a fit of temper—mostly self-directed—he hurled it across the room. His home was done in an open air design and nothing separated the kitchen from the eating area or the living room. The heavy, bound stack of pages ended up by the aquarium and he continued to glare at it for untold minutes.

It wasn’t until the alarm chimed, letting him know somebody had left the premises that he managed to snap himself out of it.

Swearing, he dragged his hands down his face and then he made himself go over and pick up the script.

When he saw the title, he almost dropped it.

T O R N

He didn’t drop the script though. He’d throw it away. Maybe burn it in his fire pit.

He might have been able to do it, too.

But he saw the handwritten note next the title of script, typed in out such stark font. By contrast, Marin’s handwriting stood out even more. He knew her writing as well as his own and he knew for a fact she’d written this note well before their little…okay, big argument.

Sebastien

Read the script. I know you wanted the part before, but it wasn’t right for you. Maybe you don’t want it now, but I can tell, this part needs you and I think you need it. This is your life and it’s time you come back to it. You’re missed, Seb. By a lot of us and I’m not talking your fans. We all miss you. Your friends miss you. Your family misses you. I miss you.

I’m playing Marlena and I can’t think of anybody I’d rather have acting as the male lead other than you.

You’re ready for this, Seb.

Read the script.

TTYS,

Marin

He gripped the script tighter, absently smoothing down pages he’d crumpled with his carelessness.

He’d just mail it back to JD. Marin wouldn’t be back out here any time soon—if ever.

 

Two days…

 

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