Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 45

We’re in the middle of #snarlax

If you want a defintion of Snarlax, go to twitter.  But in the midst of Snarlax, an amazing thing happened…

 

Some of those who follow me on twitter know that bratlet doesn’t just vocalize her parts in her favorite movies.

No, she plays them…like nothing you’ve ever seen.

She does wardrobe changes with Beauty and the Beast.

And now that the weather cooperated, apparently she decided it was time for the epic rendition of Frozen.

I had a front row seat.

You all missed it.

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Online stuff, J.C. stuff, working stuff…aka this, that and the other

This is my idea of a state of the union address.  Or a state of Shiloh…as it were.

I’m going to ramble about online stuff, series, J.C. stuff, working, etc… this is a long post, so please bear with me.

Online stuff!

Some people have probably noticed I’m not a) blogging as much b) on twitter as much c) online as much in general

The reasons for this are varied, but it breaks down to the fact that I had to simplify and focus on writing more.

A few years ago, I had a hysterectomy and since then, focusing has been more of an issue.  I’ve always been easily distracted, but since then, instead things being like…OH, SHINY…okay, back to work, it’s OH, SHINY, ok…what? Who am I?

It got to the point that I decided to get evaluated for ADD/ADHD, which I always suspected I had (one or the other) and hey, I managed.  I cut back on distractions when I worked, no TV on, music to block out noises, etc, etc.  I’d leave the house if I things were really bad, write at a coffee shop, so on and so forth.

Lately, the normal tricks just weren’t doing it.  Early in January, the tests came back and I’m soooooo ADD.  We’re trying medication and I’m going to try a few other things that a friend suggested and see how it goes.

It’s possible the stress of the past few years have aggravated things…who knows, but it’s just best that I limit online time to the bare minimum.

**Now…while I understand the intent behind it, this is often the time when a lot of people tend to offer suggestions, etc. While I appreciate the intent–and I do–for those who don’t know I’m a nurse and I also have an ADHD kid and I’ve researched this thing until my head can’t hold any more. I eat fairly clean, I exercise and eesh…

Anyway. At this point, I think it’s best I focus on what my doctor and I have discussed and limit everything else.

So…long story short… that’s why people don’t see me online as much.

J.C. Daniels stuff!

When is the next book coming out!!! Why are you torturing me like this?  Do you like to make me suffer??

I posted some of that stuff on the blog tour.  Including the title.  You can still see that info if you want to go on a hunt and maybe enter the contest before it’s too late.

Don’t want to do that? Okay, quick run down, next full length book for Kit is in 2016.  I’ll post the title here in a few weeks when I have more concrete info.  For now, the hosting blogger gets to have it…hers all hers!!!

A couple of weeks ago, I finished a short story that I plan on putting out in the summer and there will probably be another short to go along with it…I hadn’t planned on doing it that way, but there are certain things that need to happen prior to book five so this seems to be the best way to do it.  It’s important and I think it will work best in its own story.

More on that soon-ish.

No, I don’t do it to make people suffer. Blame Kit.  It’s her story. I’m just writing it.

Series stuff!

I’ve had a lot of people lately asking me why I’m not continuing a series, particularly the Veil series, or the Hunters.

Frankly…because sales sucked and the publishers don’t want to buy more.  Publishing is a business.  Publishers have to make money–specifically, they have to make money off the books I write for them or they won’t buy more from me.  That’s just how it goes.

I’m sorry for those who enjoyed the series… I am.  Low sales is why I made the call to go ahead and wrap up the Grimm books.  Yes, writing is an art.  But publishing is a business and writers have to walk with feet in both worlds.

Being a creator with stories that aren’t making much money means you have to make tough calls. Bills gotta be paid and kids gotta have clothes.

I’m pragmatic, if nothing else. Which brings me to the next topic…

So…crickets chirping.

Working.

I stayed active in the medical field the past eleven years and that was for good reason.  I never did expect the writing thing to last forever, because hey… why would it?

To sum it up, I’m probably going back to work part-time. I’m hoping it’s just temporary, but who knows? Writing as a career is, and will probably continue to be, a fickle creature.  I’ve been lucky to be able to do it for more than ten years, but this fickle creature just isn’t smiling on me lately.

My priorities have to be my family-my guy and I are parents and partners first. Seeing to the needs of our family will always be the number one priority.

No, I’m not hanging up my writing hat and there are still stories coming this year. Hopefully things get better soon so I can keep saying that in another year or two. Or ten.

How this will affect my writing schedule… I don’t know. I write fast.  I’ve got books on deadline that will have to come first and several things in the works already and maybe things will level out sooner rather than later.

But it does mean I might need more time with the indie projects, like the Kit series, etc.  It means there probably won’t be as many other side projects.

I’m sorry for that and I do ask that you be patient with me.  I’ll do the best I can.

 

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Upcoming contemporary! Want to read early?

The Virgin’s Night Out

Sloane Redding is the shy one, the timid one. The morning of her wedding, she’s dumped by the man she’d thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. Humiliated, she turns tail and runs, leaving Nowhere, Alabama for a job in the city. Sloane sets out to remake herself. She succeeds…on the outside. On the inside? Different story. She still the shy Redding. Still quiet, still more interested in standing on the standlines. But all of that is about to change.

The night before her brother’s wedding, she strolls in the lone bar in Nowhere wearing wicked red and she’s got one goal in mind: to show her ex-fiance just what he lost.

The night before his best friend’s wedding, D.B. “Boone” Cassidy walks into the lone bar in Nowhere, Alabama with one goal in mind. Get wasted. Former military, he’s spent the past few years as a security specialist and all around troubleshooter. It should have been easy to spot the trouble that night…a sexy woman in wicked red. It should have been easy. Yeah, right.

One thing leads to another and his plans to get wasted turn into a night with the sexy woman in red . Boone gets the shock of his life the next day when he shows up at his friend’s wedding to find out he’d just spent the night wrapped around his best friend’s little sister…and that isn’t the only surprise.

 

As soon as she said, Sloane wanted to take the words back.

This man was too…there.

Too big, too intense and the temper that had driven her with Rodney had faded, sapping her courage with it. Now, as pale green eyes settled on her face, she swallowed.

He was going to say no.

She could already see it.

With the last bit of nerve she had left in her, she forced one more smile. “You know what? Never mind.”

She went to brush past him and his hand caught her arm. “I hadn’t quite finished mine. Why don’t you sit down with me?”

She tilted her head back and met his eyes. For one brief moment, that connection seemed to sizzle, seemed to burn. Sit down with him. Have a drink. Talk—talk about what?

In the span of what felt like minutes, her mind raced over what he’d consider the boring emptiness of her life. It would take up two minutes, he’d hurry through his drink and leave.

“Dance with me instead.”

For the second time that night—the third, the fourth?—she’d surprised herself, but as the music shifted into a slow song, she caught his hand and back onto the dance floor just a few feet away. He didn’t budge at first. Maybe she should have just cut and run…

But in a rush, she found herself pressed up against him, one big hand pressed up against her spine while the other sought out hers and brought it up, twining their fingers together. Somebody bumped into her and she stumbled, bumped into him. “Ah…”

She looked up at him, an apology on her lips.

But the words died as a shudder rolled through her. Muscles in his thighs flexed—she could feel it. Pressed this close to him, she thought she could feel just about everything. The hand he had on the base of her spine fisted and she licked her lips nervously.

His gaze fell to her mouth.

In the packed, crowded bar, surrounded by maybe fifty other swaying couples, Sloane felt like she was suddenly alone with this man—a man whose name she didn’t know—and she had a burning desire to close to distance between them and kiss him.

And since she seemed to be riding the crazy train to nowhere, she did just that, leaning forward and doing yet one more thing she’d never imagined herself doing.

She kissed a total stranger.

 

So… wanna read?

I’ll give away some review copies–I’ve yet to determine how many.

You can get ONE entry by leaving a comment.

Get a second entry by adding to your GR shelf Link [ here ]~ if you don’t want to leave link to your GR’s profile, then you can email your profile to shilohwalker2011 at gmail.com.

That’s it.  I don’t know how many copies I’ll give away.  Depends on participation.  If I get a lot of entries, I may limit it to two copies per 25 comments.  If I only get a few, I may give copies to everybody who enters.

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Like a blue collar hero? Yes? YES!

My publisher St. Martins is celebrating the working man! Check out #14shadesofblue going on right now and maybe you can win NOAH!  My Noah! From Deeper Than Need!

Also, if you don’t win, you can buy, cuz he’s only $2.99 right now, through the end of February.

 

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Kit’s back

Who would be stupid enough to try and get into a fight here?

Answer: Me.

In my defense, I hadn’t planned on the fight.

It was the crazy-eyed shifter who’d crashed into me at the buffet—she started it.

The buffet was loaded with everything from raw cuts of meat—for the shifters—to the most beautiful sugar-spun pastries you could imagine. I was staying far away from the area where things were still bleeding and focusing on the sweets. The sparkly little ball of puffy dough should have looked too pretty to eat.

I’d eaten five of them before I could stop myself and was pondering a sixth when she moved in front of me.

She was so close, I could feel the ripple of her energy on my skin—way too close and I didn’t like it.

I backed up two inches before I realized what I was doing and then I wanted to kick myself.

I already recognized the feel of shifter—and the feel of bitch.

A smug smile curled her lips and I knew I’d just broken one of the cardinal rules when dealing with shapeshifters.

Never back down until they throw you down or your life depends on it.

I could brazen it out, though.

I can brazen my way through anything. With a bright smile, I met her gaze. “Hello.”

She just continued to stare.

A chill raced down my spine, but I ignored it and selected another sweet, this one a delicate cake that resembled a miniature pumpkin—complete with the grinning jack o’ lantern.

She caught my hand before I could pop the cake in my mouth.

“You weren’t raised very well, were you?”

Her voice grated across my nerves.

The words, too, rubbed me raw, but while I can’t lie and say I’ve accepted my less than desirable upbringing, I had come to grips with the fact that it wasn’t me who screwed up.

With an easy smile, I said, “Nope.”

Then, moving into her grip, I waited and when her grip slackened just the slightest, I twisted away. People never expect you to move in when you’re being forcibly restrained.

Once her hand fell away, I backed up—fast.

She’d already tried to grab me again, but now there was five feet between us—and eyes on us.

Instead of advancing, she flared her nostrils and scented the air. “Human,” she pronounced and she said it the same way I might say dead mouse—with utter distaste.

“Guilty.” I gave her a wide grin. “At least, partially guilty. There’s something more in the bloodline than just human.”

“All that matters is the human,” she said, shaking her head. “No wonder you have no manners. I’m curious just what the Alpha sees in you.”

A few more gazes slid our way. Most people only glanced out of curiosity before looking away, but more than a few started to watch us and the low murmur of voices in the immediate vicinity went quiet.

“I don’t know.” I still held my plate. I dragged my finger through the sugary powder that had fallen onto it, and then, still watching her, I popped my finger into my mouth. “Maybe he likes human.”

“For meat.” She all but purred it.

Meat. What the more asshole shifters called those they considered prey.

“If that was what he was looking for, I think he would have moved on by now.”

“Oh.” She gave a condescending laugh. “Precious, it’s only pity that holds him. Pity. Fascination. He’ll tire of you.”

A heavy, familiar tread came to my ears and I knew he was near. Near enough to hear us both and it sent a twist through my gut.

“He’ll tire of you,” she said again and now she smiled. “You can’t even satisfy his hungers now. Your fear is like a stink in the air. You aren’t even a woman.”

“Alice,” a low voice said.

It wasn’t Damon.

I didn’t bother to look from her to Chang. I just put the plate down and leaned closer.

“Maybe I’m not a woman, but at least I’m not a hyena,” I said, curling my lip at her.

A low, ugly growl escaped her and I saw Chang catch her arm. “Enough,” he said, his voice a biting command. “You will leave.”

She tensed, like she’d ignore him, but then she inclined her head.

I saw the promise of retribution in her eyes, though, as she headed down the buffet, her back turned to both me and Chang. That was a look that promised pain.

I guess that’s why I wasn’t surprised when she circled the far end and slid me a cold smile—then she lunged.

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Hitting some blogs…

Okay, so… Edged Blade comes out in…um, one day???? Eeep!

I’m hitting a few blogs with excerpts, Q&A, guest posts…and one of them will have the title for Kit #5.

I will also have prizes.  If you drop in and hit the blogs and say hi and be really nice to me, you can maybe win a Kindle Fire or a cool tea infuser cup & a tea mix like Kit drinks.  Okay, you don’t have to be nice to win, but seriously, I’m giving away goodies…why wouldn’t you be nice to me?

Feb 2:

Spotlight & Excerpt: That’s What I’m Talking About

Interview: Book-a-Holic Anon

Guest Blog: Under the Covers

Feb 3:

Spotlight & Excerpt : Hannah’s Words 

Spotlight & Excerpt : Analysis and Reading

Guest Blog: Literary Escapism

Feb 4:

Interview: Reviews by Crystal

Spotlight Blogging by Liza

Guest Blog: Smexy Books

Feb 5:

Spotlight & Excerpt : Books-n-Kisses

Guest Blog: Fiction Vixen

Feb 6:

Interview: : Rambling Reads

Spotlight & Excerpt : Confessions of a YA & NA Book Addict

Guest Blog: The Bookpushers

 

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Cool news…!!! Deeper than Need is on sale this month!

If you like my romantic suspense, the first book in my latest series is on sale for $2.99 on Kindle, Nook, Kobo, iBooks, etc!

Time heals all wounds

Eager to put a dark, troubled past behind her, Trinity Ewing buys an old house that will make the perfect refuge for her and her young son once renovations are complete. The last thing on her mind is finding someone new…but the contractor she’s hired is an irresistible distraction—and Trinity can’t help but fantasize about all the business they could be doing behind closed doors.

 

So does one man’s touch

 

Noah Benningfield thought he’d put his demons behind him. But the moment he lays eyes on Trinity, the temptation he feels is too powerful to deny. Soon the attraction between them explodes into something neither of them could have imagined. But their desire will be put to the test when a shocking local murder has them dodging danger at every turn. Can the beautiful and damaged Trinity trust someone like Noah, whose own past is as haunted as her own? The only thing she knows for sure is that she can’t live without a man who makes her feel this good—over and over again…

Excerpt

Nearly a mile from the restaurant to here, made in silence, and each step of the way a memory rose up to slam into him.

Now, standing at the foot of the steps, Noah gazed at that big old house, remembered that day when he’d come out here, despite his father’s attempts to keep him from doing it. He’d ignored the police tape and would have barreled inside if old Max hadn’t stopped him.

Max hadn’t been able to keep Noah from seeing the bloody smears on the windows or the rusty stains on the porch. The lingering ache that had haunted him for so long had finally faded. But now he felt raw, exposed, as he stood there, ready to bare himself to the woman who was coming to mean everything to him.

If they were going to have any chance at all, this talk had to happen. It had to happen now.

Closing his eyes, he forced a breath past the band that had wrapped around his lungs, and then he turned his head and stared at her. The soft light of the fading day painted her skin a delicate gold and he reached up, cupped her skin.

“I’ve got things I need to tell you,” he said gruffly. “Things that are almost impossible for me to talk about. But before I do . . .”

He dipped his head and pressed a kiss to her lips, felt her soften against him, reach for him. He caught her wrists as she reached up to cup his face, felt the maddening beat of her pulse. “The past twenty years of my life have been nothing but a cloud. Everything was just . . .grey. There was no color, no light, no laughter. All that changed the minute you and Micah came barreling into my life. I don’t want to lose that.”

“There’s nothing you’re going to say that will change what I feel. I . . .” She paused and blew out a breath. “Sometimes I get a little scared about just what I feel, considering that we really haven’t known each other that long. But . . . you felt right to me the first time I looked at you. Whatever you have to say to me isn’t going to change the man you are.”

The words rested on his heart, almost painful yet still enough to make him catch his breath. Hope could cut deep sometimes.

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It’s a great time to check the series out… book 2 is out and book three comes out in March!

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Claws

Just a couple more days, guys!

“Hello, Kit.”

“Chang.” I cocked my head. “Sorry to crash in like this…sounded like serious stuff. Am I interrupting?”

Chang had an innate courtesy. He’d brush it off. Of course not. How are you, would you like some tea—

To my surprise, the only response he made initially was to sigh.

It was a soft, heavy sigh, one that carried a world of weariness. “I had to call a family up north with grim news. An awful sort of call to make.”

“I…” I stopped for a moment. “I’m sorry. Are there…problems?”

An odd question to ask, maybe, but the look on Chang’s face wasn’t one that spoke of somebody who’d lived to see a ripe old age and then died peacefully in his sleep.

From the corner of his eye, he watched me. There was a strange expression to his features, as though he wanted to say something, but then he sighed and said, “No. Sit. I’ll fix tea. You’ll tell me why you’re here.”

There was no point in arguing.

Chang had fallen back on his role of courtesy.

There was no getting out of it now—and no chance of tugging out any details about that phone call, either.

I waited until I had my tea in hand—tea was a personal addiction of mine, almost as bad as the soaps and lotions and other girly things I bought obsessively. Breathing in the sweet and spicy scent, I sighed. I doctored it with sugar and cream. I liked my tea, with just a little more sugar than most people. Or a lot more sugar.

“How you can drink it that way confounds me,” Chang said. “I keep trying to break you of that habit, but it doesn’t work.”

“To each their own.” I shrugged and took my first sip. Perfect.

Chang had a look of amusement and revulsion on his face.

“When you spend a good ten years of your life scrapping just to get enough water and food to fill the hole in your belly, you develop odd cravings.” I shrugged it off.

Chang’s eyes fell away.

I scowled inwardly, wished I hadn’t said anything. I’d dealt with more abuse in my life than most people had ever heard of—I’d come to grips with what my family had done and generally dealt with it, in my own unique sort of way.

Sometimes, I was even able to not be ashamed of it. But it made other people uncomfortable. Honestly, that’s just plain stupid to me—it happened to me—if I can deal with it, then why can’t they?

But then I had to deal with people looking away, or lapsing into silence…or just…fading away.

“Sorry,” I said, my voice tense.

“Why?” Chang said quietly.

I stared at him, opened my mouth—then snapped it shut. “Fuck it. Never mind.”

But he was too insightful, by far. Unlike many shifters I knew, he didn’t just go by what his senses told him. He looked at people. Saw beneath the surface. Sometimes, he saw so deep, it pissed me off.

“I’m not aggravated with you for speaking of your childhood,” he said softly. “In a way, it…humbles me. I know you don’t always speak freely of your past, Kit.”

He rose.

The languid way he moved couldn’t be called pacing, not by any means.

But Chang rarely made wasted moves and the way he moved from the window at the back of his office to his wall of weapons then to his desk to straighten the non-existent clutter there before repeating the circuit was nothing but wasted movement. And it was done with all the elegance, grace and speed he did everything else with. “At the same time, the thought that any soul could treat a child as I know you were treated makes me…”

He looked up.

For the first time in all the time I’d known him, I saw a faint glow roll across his eyes.

The flash was gone so fast, I couldn’t even place it—just a glow of color too light to belong in that dark gaze, and then it was gone. “It angers me. Children should be treasured.”

“That’s how the world works sometimes.”

His eyes held mine. “And sometimes, the world sucks.”

“I’ve found myself thinking that a lot lately.”

“Yet another reason I like you, Kit. You are a wise woman.”

At that, I snorted. “I’m a lot of things—wise isn’t one of them.”

He chuckled and the tension in the air passed. He returned to his seat and faced me. “Let’s discuss why you’re here. Not that I’m not delighted to see you, of course.”

He’d never say it, but I suspected he had things to do, secrets to pass on and people who needed to kill or be killed.

That was his job, after all.

Since I respected that, I didn’t beat around the bush.

“I’m tracking down—or trying to track down—some information. I could use your help.”

He arched a brow as he lifted his tea cup to his lips.

He’d help if he could. I knew that. Just like I knew he’d stonewall me if he couldn’t.

“NHs are disappearing. I need to know about any shifters who have gone missing…specifically some in Georgia. I need information and if anybody has it, it’s you.”

The cup froze at his mouth.

Without taking a sip, he lowered it. Then he put it down and moved behind his desk to stare out the window. “Who have you been talking to, Kit?”

I started to move my knee back and forth. “Am I going to sound terribly childish if I say I asked you first?”

“Sound as childish as you want. But you’re more likely to get answers from me if you cooperate.” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Then a faint smile appeared on his face. “You can always ask Damon. However, if you wanted to do that, you would have. You often end up in messes that worry him, a fact I’m sure you’re aware of. This is likely why you came to me instead.”

“You’re telling me this because…” I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair as I stared at him.

“Only two people possess the information you’re looking for—or possess an in-depth knowledge of it. That I know of. Damon hasn’t spoken to you—he wouldn’t, not about this. If somebody has spoken to you…” He let the words trail off.

“If you’re worried my source might be behind these disappearances, you can draw your claws back in, Chang.”

“My claws aren’t out.” A brow lifted. “Yet.”

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Your romance hero isn’t a football playing king in space…with a mustache

Why, yes.  I did just quote Spongebob there.

I just finished reading a book.  I can’t tell you the title.  It’s a work thing.  So I seriously mean I can’t tell you the title.

The author can write.  The writing itself wasn’t bad, a number of the characters themselves varied from interesting to amusing to fairly likeable.

Except the hero.  He was…a name with a bunch of titles.

Let me explain.

The word counts imposed by the publisher of the line, I think, could have limited her ability to really flesh out the hero, but the problem really started when she tried to give the hero what seemed like every possible trope she could think of.

He was a cowboy.  Of course he was.

He was a genius. Of course he was.

He was a hacker. Of course he was.

He was filthy rich. Of course he was.

There were five other things I can list here that go along with the ‘typical’ tropes you see in a cateogory romance, but I’m trying to be vague here.

Now Mr.Filthy Rich Hacker Genius Cowboy with five other tropes that I’m not going to list is merrily living his life–and happily–until his spunky heroine up and interrupts his well-planned life–of course.  And he realizes this while in the middle some sort of uber-important business thing, but he’s not thinking about business.  He’s thinking of…her wit?  Nope.  Her smile?  Nope.  How much he likes her?  How about how much she just downright drives him CRAZY? Nope.  He comes to this stunning conclusion while thinking about…her body–of course.

But during this time we never really see anything inside this guy. Except when he’s ruminiating about how hot she is.

He has the emotional depth of a rain puddle.

Maybe he never had time to grow feelings while learning how to hack, building his portfolio, roping broncos, saving cute little horsies that wandered far from the range and earning multiple degrees–and noticing the heroine’s cute, pert nipples, goodness me.

Yes, we are all over the place here and I haven’t even touch on the several other tropes that I’m not mentioning.

But there was no room for character development.

Character development is essential.

Being rich doesn’t make a character a hero.

Being a cowboy doesn’t make a character a hero.

Being a genuis doesn’t make a character a hero.

Being a hacker doesn’t make a character a hero.

Sure, we read all about these things in characters we end up loving, but what really draws us to these characters is who they are–not what they are and we can’t find out who they are unless we get to spend time inside their heads, time that doesn’t involve just thinking about sex.

Characters are all that much more appealing if they seem real, after all.  They can’t be real if they’re just a bunch of tags, tropes and titles.

So, there’smy writer two cents for the day.

 

**Football Playing King in Space… Courtesy of…Spongebob

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Edged Blade excerpt

Here ya go… along with a rubber ducky.

 

There are some people who could get in trouble with a wet bag and a rubber ducky.

I know.

I’m one of them.

There I was, standing with a wet bag, eggs oozing out of it, half of my groceries for tonight all over the ground and a rubber ducky in my hand. I’d dropped one of the bags when a small tornado had almost bowled me over. I’d held onto the other, although thanks to the smashed eggs, the stuff in it was probably ruined.

Sighing, I looked down at the bag and then the ducky.

Said duck belonged to the little girl cowering at my feet.

Or maybe not…

“This doesn’t concern you.”

The words were delivered in a cloud of garlic and undercooked meat as a man came storming my way. He went to snatch the duck away and I whipped my hand out of his reach.

“She stole it,” he said.

“I’ll pay for it,” I said calmly. “Just tell me how much it is.”

“I’m not selling it to you.” His lip curled and he glanced down at the girl. He went to grab her. I dropped the rest of my groceries and shoved my hand against his chest.

He went flying back.

I took advantage of the momentary distraction to pick up the girl and put her in my car. I’d only barely had the chance to shut the door when he came rushing at me. Magic sparked around him as he swung out at me.

Splintered power danced in the air around him. An untrained witch, probably watered down—just enough ability to light a fire—or make him feel tough.

Ducking under the punch, I slammed my fist into his gut and spun away.

He lumbered after me.

I caught the next punch.

His face went red as I started to squeeze. I heard bones break.

As he started to squeal, I flung his hand away.

“Well. This is entertaining.”

With a disgusted sigh, I looked up as Megan Banks came striding up.

Megan was the second in command for the local wolf pack. She looked like a soccer mom, cussed like a sailor and had a jaw like a brick wall. I’d broken my hand on that jaw of hers. As I caught sight of the amusement in her eyes, I relived that moment. It had been worth it.

Blowing out a disgusted breath, I looked at the groceries I’d dropped when the little girl had plowed into me. The eggs were a lost cause. “Hi, Megan. Long time, no see. Oh, you’re in a hurry? Sorry to hear that. See ya.”

She chuckled as she knelt down next to me. “I’m here to speak with the man you made cry like a baby.” She picked up a packet of steak and held it out. “Planning on having company?”

I just stared.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen the Alpha. Perhaps I should swing by and just touch base. It’s a courtesy…from the pack to the clan.”

“Come by my house tonight and die.”

Kindle