Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 41

Happy 4th of July

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Grimm’s End…coming this October

He would walk into hell for her. Hell’s not willing to let him back out.

Years have passed since Will flung himself headlong into demon central. Everyone has told Mandy he’s lost to them, but she still won’t believe it. He was her heart and soul—still is—even if he never admitted they belonged together.

When a friend is nearly torn through a rip between the worlds, Mandy gets the sign she’s hoped and prayed for. Her friend is thrust back through to safety by no other than Will himself.

With all hell breaking loose on earth, only two Grimm can be spared for the mission to retrieve their leader—Mandy and the only otherGrimm crazy enough to go with her.

Will would forget the color of the sky before he’d forget the love of all his lives. But his time is done. It’s only a matter of which demon will finally destroy him.

He never thought his final moments would be haunted by Mandy’s face. But is it a fitting punishment, or one last chance to atone for crimes he committed so long ago?

Warning:  This book contains too much angst, too many secrets, and two people who long to be together. It’s also the end of a long, fun ride. Thanks for taking it.

due out October 27. 2015.

This will be the final story in the Grimm’s Circle series.  If you haven’t read the Grimm and enjoy fairy tale retellings, you can read more about the series here.

Excerpt

I tried hard not to look at the ruin of the castle.

When I did, I saw it as I had in my dream, the imposing, majestic power of it.  And I saw him.

Pulling me to him, stroking my face, my hair.

Then fading, as I woke.

It was easier to see the castle now, in a crumbling ruin,

Considering what had happened here, the grass should be withered and brown and…

No.

There shouldn’t be any grass.

Withered and brown grass, after all, could become green again.  I’d seen it.  All you had to have was some rain.  Some sun.  The right conditions and anything could thrive.

The right conditions.

What a laugh.

No.  There shouldn’t be any grass here.

There shouldn’t be anything here except perhaps field of nothingness.  Dead things.  Corpses left piled left and right to mark the battles we’d fought, something to mark the battles we lost…

And maybe a marker.

Something ugly and bleak to mark what I had lost.

Instead there was green grass.

The ruin of the castle, somehow beautiful despite its decay, rose into the air, a testament to time and to tragedy.

Perhaps that was the marker.

Bending forward, I curled my hand into the pliant green blades and closed my eyes.

I could still taste the snow in the air.

I could still see his face before me.

I could feel his warmth against my skin and that surreal power blasting against my shields.

It had been two years.

Two years since Will had stood before me.

 

“No!” The panic that had blindly driven her for the past few days was gone.  No Mandy realized.  It wasn’t gone.  It just wasn’t blind any more.  As she hurtled toward Will, past that gaping void that opened into something so terrible her mind didn’t want to accept it, Mandy focused on one thing.  And one thing alone.

Will.

She drove her fist into his chest—a pointless sort of punch, but it was all she could do at that moment.  Will’s only reaction was to reach out and cup her face.

Tears were already flowing.

“You son of a bitch.”  She tangled her hands in his hair—white as the fallen snow, softer than the finest silk.  It felt oddly warm, almost alive.  She jerked his head toward hers, pressed her brow to his.  Her heart was breaking. “You can’t do this to me. Don’t you know what you’re doing?”

 “Yes.” His voice was gentle and that hurt her even more. “Because I’m doing it to me as well. But you must understand. This, you, me…it could have never happened. Happiness was something I was never meant to have. And you would have made me happy.”

When he kissed her, Mandy thought she would die.  If pain alone could kill an angel, in that moment, her heart would have stopped.

She wished it would have.

 “If I could have let myself,” Will murmured softly. “I would have loved you.”

preorder links to be posted as available

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Misery’s Way: A Kit Colbana World short story

Releases today!

This story is set in Kit Colbana’s world.  It’s loosely connected, but can be read as a stand-alone.  

A Kit Colbana World Short Story

Her name is Frankie. At least, that’s what she calls herself.

She looks human, but she’s no more human than she is a faith-healer. That doesn’t stop her from using her…more unique abilities to take care of certain needs. It’s those abilities that lead to a chance encounter with an unusual woman in Florida.

It’s a chance encounter with fate that will set these two down a collision course with destiny.

 

Excerpt

“It’s crowded tonight.”

I glanced up at the man who’d slipped up to join me.  I stood just outside the curtain of the tent.  Through the slit, I could peer inside and the darkness of the night kept them from seeing me.  It was one of the few remaining moments of solitude, of peace, that I’d have for the rest of the night.

Saleel’s presence didn’t disturb that solitude.

He was as welcome as the whisper of air against my skin, as the twinkle of stars overhead.

He was a reminder of what I did have—even if I didn’t have something as simple and coveted as humanity, I had my life.  I had freedom.  And I had him as my companion.

We shared a moment of comfortable silence before I looked back inside.

“You’re restless,” he said after another moment.

I wasn’t surprised he’d noticed.  Saleel noticed everything.

I slanted a look up at him.  “I guess I’m getting bored here.  Ready to move on.  Have you scouted out the next spot?”

Saleel lifted one shoulder.  “Yes.  Montana.  I tire of the heat.”

“Montana?”  I grimaced and mentally shuddered.  Summer was rapidly drawing to a close.  That would mean cold.  Snow.  Worse…ice.  “I hate the cold.”

I’d spent many of my earliest years in the muggy heat of America’s south—or in the heart of Africa.  Some of those years that hadn’t been spent…elsewhere.  Heat was simply bred into my bones.  I could handle the cold, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

Saleel’s teeth flashed white in the faintest of smiles when he glanced at me.  “Then perhaps next time when I ask you if you have a preference, you should give me an answer.  Instead, you say, Do whatever you want, Sal.”

He managed an imitation of my voice that was almost dead-on.

I stuck my tongue out at him.

He went back to staring into tent.  “Offer your tongue again, my angel, and I will make use of it.”

Yeah.  Right.

The two of us were like gasoline and fire and we both knew it.  Combustible—and dangerous.

“Promises, promises,” I said lightly and then I eased closer, bracing my shoulder on the lightweight metal of the door frame, gazing deeper into the tent.

Saleel was right.

I was restless.

But I hadn’t yet figured out why.

A hot summer wind caressed the back of my neck.  I enjoyed it while I could.  Once I got inside, the air would be stifling. Already, I was dreading it.  I could smell the heat of too many bodies and the air was thick with sweat.  Heavy with despair.

Hope clung to many of the people who awaited me but hope was a capricious bitch. I could all but hear the cackling, gleeful laugh as she darted from one person to another, crooning…you don’t really think this will work, do you?  You’re going to die…you’re all going to die…

Fans churned from all corners, laboriously whirring away.  They did little to cool the temperature, but at least the air kept moving.

It wasn’t the heat, though, that plagued me.  It wasn’t even the promise of death.  People died.  It was simply part of life.  It wasn’t the despair or the misery—the hunger inside me reached for that, but that wasn’t what made me restless.

“It’s time,” Saleel murmured.

I nodded.

But still, I didn’t move, searching inside the tent.

“Frankie?”

“I’m going.”  I took a deep breath and reached deep inside for the well of calm that would carry me through when I took another’s pain inside me.  I craved pain—fed on it.  That didn’t mean it was pleasant.

Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | BN

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For all the dads!

For all the dads!

Happy Father’s Day

Berlin-based designer and illustrator Ingrid Aspöck | via Flavorwire

art is by  Ingrid Aspöck

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Grimm’s End… the last Grimm story, fairy tales retold

I’ve recently gotten my greedy little mitts on the cover for the last and final Grimm story, Will’s book.  It’s pretty damn amazing, I must say.  And I need to post it.

But I’m thinking about sharing it with others, too.  This one will be the last of the series, in case you didn’t know and I was pretty specific about what I wanted.  I think the cover artist did a fantastic job.

If anybody is interested in helping me share it, please email me at shilohwalker2011 at gmail.com.

It’s been a long, fun ride and I kind of like the idea of sharing it with others before it all comes to a close.

A short snippet…because Will and Mandy kinda kilt me dead.

* * * *

“Trying to keep him from giving into the dark side.”

A weak laugh escaped me.  “You remembered some of your geek training, Will.”

He took a step toward me.  “I forgot the color of the sky.  I forgot the sound of human voices.  I forgot what it was to have food in my belly…”

He was in front of me now.

“But I didn’t forget the sound you made when you sighed in your sleep,” he murmured, reaching up to cradle my face.  “I didn’t forget how you laughed when you teased me or the way you would try to make me laugh.  You made me laugh when I had gone centuries without it.  I forgot so much…but I didn’t forget you.”

I gasped when he lowered his face to mine.  When he brushed my lips with his, I felt tears burn.

“Will…”

Due out in Fall 2015

To read the rest of the stories in the Grimm series, start here, with Candy Houses.

Find the Grimm series @ Samhain • Amazon • BN • iBooks • Kobo

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For my J.C. Daniels readers…Final Protocol is up on @Netgalley

Those who like my J.C. Daniels stuff, or those who like my more action-drived stuff, or even just those who like my stuff period…

Heart of Dixie Readers Luncheon

So I went to Huntsville, Al this past Saturday for the HOD Readers Luncheon.  Sylvia Day was the featured speaker.  Linda Howard (gah……) and Linda Winstead Jones were two authors I’ve been reading for years.  I got to see Jennifer Estep, too, which is always awesome.

This is the first time I’ve been to this event, but I’ve attended a couple of luncheons now and I’ve got to say, I kind of love them. They are low key, inexpensive and so much fun. You got to chat with your table of readers and then there is generally a signing afterwards.

The other one I’ve attended is Southern Magic. Again, fun.

And did I mention Linda Howard?

Also… a reader made me this.

If you’ve ever got a chance to attend either Southern Magic or Heart of Dixie’s Reader Luncheon…go for it.

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The view from Huntsville

Sometimes you get to a hotel and the view is just… blah. Today it’s pretty decent.

Blue Skies…

I’m down here for the Heart of Dixie Readers Luncheon (tomorrow) where I will eat, drink and be merry with readers.  Some of the other authors in attendance include Sylvia Day, Linda Howard, Linda Winstead Jones & Jennifer Estep.

Let me just pause, because…LINDA HOWARD.

Then I sign books at the booksigning.

Then I drive home. The next week involves running and more running and then vacation. Eek.

For now, I’m going to write, relax and enjoy the view…

 

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30 Nights with a Dirty Boy

 

Thirty Nights with A Dirty Boy

This is my version of a billionaire story.  Only she’s the billionaire and he’s…well, he’s a dirty boy.

Ella has issues.  Ella has a lot of issues.  But she’s also got needs and she’s tired of being lonely.  She decides she’s going to do something desperate…hire a man.  Specifically, a male prostitute.  Big, blonde and beautiful, Sean speaks with a sexy Scottish accent and just looking at him turns her belly into knots.  Just looking at him makes her want the kind of things she didn’t think she would ever want.

She’ll hire Sean and store up a lifetime worth of memories.  At least, that’s the plan.  But things never go according to plan, do they?

 

3o Nights will be a three part serial, a story I’ve sold to Heroes & Heartbreakers. HeroesandHeartbreakers.com members will be the very first to read the stories on the site later this year, an exclusive perk for H&H readers, so be sure to join the community now so that you don’t miss a thing! All three stories will also be available for purchase as e-books in early 2016 for those who want their own keeper copies.  And yes…these books will be available to read on the site for free!

Excerpt

Sean wore nothing but the tight t-shirt, one that displayed his tattoo in all its lovely perfection.

When I shivered again for the third time, he caught my hand and tugged me into the alcove formed by the doors of a closed shop.

He braced one hand on the wall over my head and the other on my hip.

I tensed.

“You realize this involves me touching you, don’t you?”

I jerked my head in a nod.

“Okay then.”  Pale gray eyes studied my face.

He saw too much.  I suspected he could see the things I didn’t want him to see, but it wasn’t like some of those secrets were hard to figure out.  I flinch when I’m touched, I flinch when people get too close.  And I’m paying a man to have sex with me.

“Why?”

I blanched at his question.  Was he a mindreader too?

“What?”

He slid his hand up, the heel barely grazing the outer curve of my breast, but it was a touch I’d never experienced before so I felt it—felt it in ways I couldn’t describe.  He noticed—I saw the way his pupils flared—but he made no sign that he’d noticed.  He just kept on his mission and that was to curve his hand over the back of my neck.  He leaned in and this time, when he whispered into my ear, it wasn’t such a surprise.  He’d been this close before and I’d handled it.

“Why pay for sex, Ella?  You’re a pretty woman.  If I had seen you someplace other than where I work, I might have asked you out.  You can find a man who’d be happy to take you to his bed and you wouldn’t have to pay him for it.”

His voice was a soft, seductive caress.  It would have been easy to just fall into it and not think about his words.

But I suspected he’d have an answer before he consented.

“Does it matter?” I asked, my voice shaking.  “Why do you care?”

“Women come to me for a number of reasons, sweet lady.  I could just take their money and give them what they ask for…but I want them to know what they are getting in return.  I promise sex, nothing more.  Nothing less.  Plenty of them think they’ll get something more—and for some of them, that is fine.  Some just want the thrill…”  He turned his head and I gasped when he bit my earlobe.

A hot, delicious bolt of pleasure ripped through me.  I hadn’t felt the likes of it…ever.

“And if you were just out for a thrill, Ella, I’d turn you around to face me and be inside you before you could blink.  I’d make you come, hard and fast.  But I wouldn’t.  Then I’d take you someplace more private and we’d go again.  Once you came again, then I would.”

I had to squeeze my knees together now, because I was aching inside.  Aching deep down, my clitoris pulsing.  All because of the words he spoke.

“But you don’t want a thrill.”  He smoothed his hand down the front of my torso, left it there.  Whether it was to tease or to warn me, I don’t know.  “You’re terrified.  You want me, but at the same time, part of you wants to withdraw and run.  So it isn’t thrills you chase, Ella.”

I’ll post more info as it comes available…

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Cover beautifulness… Headed For Trouble

Like a small-town southern romance?  Here’s the cover I mentioned last week.  

SHE’S A SMALL-TOWN GIRL WITH BIG DREAMS.

Nine years ago, Neve McKay fled her small Southern town and disapproving family to seek a career in the big city. Now she’s finally coming home-and hoping for a fresh start. But the relationship that shattered her world still haunts her. And even among her nearest and dearest, she doesn’t feel safe. . .

CAN THIS BAD BOY BE THE ANSWER TO HER PRAYERS?

Ian Campbell is a pure Scottish muscle-as hard and handsome as they come. But when Neve walks into his bar, his heart melts. . .and he vows to have this gorgeous and somewhat vulnerable woman in his life-for better or for worse. What is Neve’s tragic secret? And how can Neve expect Ian to protect her, when doing so could put his own life at risk? The only thing Ian knows for sure is that he will do whatever it takes to keep her out of harm’s way-and in his loving arms. . .

 

Here ya go…

Excerpt

She stood in the doorway, oddly apart from everybody else even as she studied them, eyes moving to linger on a group here, then there.  After a couple of moments, she moved away and he found himself tracking her progress.

Don’t be here to meet somebody, he thought and immediately, he wanted to kick himself.  What did it matter if she was?

He told himself it didn’t and glanced up at Gary Harnett settled down and ordered his usual.  Ian started to build the Guinness as they chatted, but the entire time, he watched her from the corner of his eye.

She moved like a dancer, effortless grace and easy elegance.  He could imagine those legs, long and slim, wrapped around his waist, could picture that torso—just as long and slim—bent back as he leaned over to press his mouth to pale, soft skin.

Gary said, “They say it’s going to break a hundred again tomorrow.”

“Imagine it will,” Ian murmured, the easy chatter second nature and in his mind, he continued to mentally undress the redhead.

She slid onto a vacant stool tucked up against the wall just as he finished Gary’s Guinness and Ian was took a moment to appreciate the fact that he had a heavy, solid bar between the two of them, because thanks to his wandering mind, his bloody cock was hard as iron and pulsing.

She looked at him then, her mouth unsmiling, but wide and soft and lush.

Fuck me.

He rested his hands on the bar and smiled.  You’ve a job to do, so do it.

He opened his mouth.

You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve seen in ages—maybe forever.  He could feel those words hovering on the tip of his tongue.

Biting them back, he fell back on the job he’d been doing for ages.

“Well.  ‘Allo.  What can I get you?”

A faint smile flirted around her lips and a hot ball of lust twisted inside, settling down low in his balls.  Mad.  He’d gone mad—that’s all there was to it.

She nodded toward the Guinness he’d just finished and said, “I’ll have one of those.”

He nodded. Self-preservation told him to move his arse and get to work.

He told self-preservation to get fucked as he got to work on her Guinness.  As he did, four more orders came in and he filled three of them before her Guinness was ready.  By the time he had another minute to breathe, she had folded her hands around her glass and was studying everything around her, almost mesmerized.

“Visiting?”

She blinked, a startled look in her eyes.  Her gaze slid away.  “Depends on your point of view.”  Then she flashed him a wide smile.

It was disarming, that smile, bright and wicked, the kind of smile a temptress would give a saint to lure him into all manners of sin.

Ian was many things—a saint had never been one of them.  As she propped her elbows on the bar, he found himself easing closer. “I’m here for…personal things, but that’s for later,” she said, lifting her shoulder in a shrug.  “Tonight…?  Tonight I’m just trying to not think.”

I can help you with that.

The words popped into his brain and they almost escaped his lips.

He managed to keep them trapped inside, but one thing he couldn’t do was keep his eyes off that mouth.

She noticed, too.  He could tell by the hitch in her breathing, the way her pulse slammed against the fragile wall of her throat.  Curious, he reached out and pressed a finger against it.

He could very well be doing the stupidest thing he’d ever done.

Her lids drooped and her head slumped, angling slightly to the side.  He skimmed his finger down lower, tracing the elegant line of her collarbone.  “I’ve had days like that,” he said softly.  “Days where the last place I want to be is inside my own head.”

He lowered his hand.

She lifted her head and met his gaze dead-on.

He started to turn away.

“How late do you work?”

Coming in December

Amazon | BN | Book Depository | IndieBound | iBooks

Also…this isn’t my news.

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