Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 58
April 15, 2014
One week… and counting…Break for Me
KindleHave you met Dean?
Image via Hello Beautiful
Flat out…Dean was inspired by that picture. I need a sleek-looking, sexy smart man and the minute I saw this guy, I knew I’d found who I was looking for.
Wanna read a bit about him?
“It’s okay, Jensen. I get it. You and me, we’re not going there. So I’ll . . .” He blew out a breath. “I’ll just stop.”
The words ripped out of her. “Stop what?”
He didn’t answer. Long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Woodford Reserve he had next to him and he rose. “I hope you can get some rest this weekend. Find some peace.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
He paused halfway up the steps. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about you. But I haven’t made much of an attempt to hide the fact that I’m interested. I can do better, so I will. You don’t want to see it, so I’ll keep it to myself. Sooner or later, it will fade.”
Will it?
She stared at the strong line of his back as he crossed the porch, her heart slamming away in her chest.
A knot formed in her throat.
This . . . this intensity she felt every time she looked at him. That could fade?
It was the most real thing she’d felt since . . .
She didn’t even realize she was moving until he’d turned to look at her.
Then she was doing the very thing she’d dreamed about.
His skin was warm against hers, the light stubble scraping against her palms. Because that light touch wasn’t enough, she kept one palm on his face and then drove the other hand into his hair, tangled it in his dreads. The texture was coarse against her hand and she shuddered at the thought of feeling him, all of him.
“I don’t want it to fade,” she whispered as she rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.
Read all about Dean & Jensen next week, and the third book about the Bells is due out in May.
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April 14, 2014
Insta-love and building bridges
Kindle
H/T to Pearl for giving me a blog topic today! I sometimes run out of steam when it’s near/around release time because…well, nerves. 
FYI, just a reminder, though, there are only a few hours to enter for the ARC of DEEPER THAN NEED.
This is more of a writer/storytelling/craft ramble.
On twitter a little while ago, Pearl asked…
Why the insta-love”hate”? I’ve been seeing it regularly in reviews lately. Is insta-love unrealistic? Unbelieveable? Wrong? What? (cont)
— Pearl (@MaggieReadsRom) April 14, 2014
She then went on to tweet that she’s married to a guy that she had that ‘instant’ love thing with…she met him and yeah, she knew right away he was the one. They’ve been together for 13 years, married for ten.
I can relate to that. While I can’t claim insta-love, I can claim an insta-something. Ya see, I took one look at my guy and there was just something there. He was friends with my big brother and I crushed on him, and hard, for close to four years and then I finally blurted out one day… Hey, how come you never come over here to see me… annnnndddd… twenty three years later, we’re still together. But I don’t claim insta-love, because I met him for the first time when I was 11. ;) Insta-crush. Love developed over time.
There was an immediate connection, yes, but if he’d been rude, a jerk, dismissive…or acted the way half my older brother’s friends did (aka…they acted like my brothers), I wouldn’t have felt that draw, I don’t think. But he was…nice. Kind. Sort of shy, at times, but he had a great smile and he didn’t have that attitude a lot of the guys in my neck of the woods had. It wasn’t the best of neighborhoods and the ‘tough guy’ shit doesn’t impress me.
So the foundation for a real connection…love…grew from that first tug.
Leah joined in with:
@MaggieReadsRom @shilohwalker For me it’s when authors use it as a short cut w/o really showing more between characters.
— LVLMLeah (@LVLMLeah) April 14, 2014
Using insta-love to establish a connection is absolutely fine…I do it all the time. It’s a great hook and can make for some fun romances. You take that instant…Oh, wow…heart-racing, adrenaline rush, what the hell is this feeling and then you build on it.
But you have to build on it.
I think this is where a writer can make or break the ‘insta-love’ …or love at first sight sort of story.
I kind of liken it to a bridge.
@LVLMLeah @MaggieReadsRom it’s kinda like building a wooden bridge. That insta-love is one log, no supports. You need more, so BUILD more
— Shiloh Walker (@shilohwalker) April 14, 2014
Or building one, and the writer is the one doing the building. That first punch of what the hell with the heart racing and blood pounding, even a burst of arousal that you’ve never felt before…you take and lay it down. That’s a log over a creek. Maybe you can walk over it once, or twice. But it’s not going to hold there for long. Especially if you live in an area where it rains a lot. One heavy spring thunderstorm… (aka…the first fight)…and that bridge is gone.
So from there, you take that log and you build on it. You need supports. You need to show the reader the love. The deeper connection. You can’t tell the reader that the love is there–it’s that whole tell vs. show thing and in stories like insta-love, it’s vital.
Why does the hero/heroine love their partner? One look doesn’t a love-match make. You can feel a tug and that tug can very well be that first log–the building of that connection, but from there…what is going on?
What if the guy…or girl…is an asshole? This doesn’t translate to saying that hero/heroine can’t be the love interest, but if the brooder is the love interest, the reader needs to understand the love connection there, and it’s got to be more than he’s so tortured and I just know my love can change him. For one…that’s telling.
Insta-love shouldn’t, really, be any different than any other means of establishing attraction. You’ve got things like the meet-cute, or the friends to lovers, or enemies to lovers…etc, etc.
Maybe the problem is that too many take the love at first sight trope, and then turn it into a short cut. There’s love, there’s sex, then BAM, automatic HEA…
That’s lazy-storytelling. There is no shortcut if you want to have a good story.
Take that first subtle tug of attraction, when you know s/he/both feel something…(From my book If You Hear Her)
“You’re asking me on a date?”
From the corner of his eye, he could see the bartender listening and not pretending not to. The kid barely looked old enough to be out of college—hell, high school.
Tuning the kid out of his mind, he focused on Lena.
“Yeah, I’m asking you on a date. At least, I’m trying to. It’s been awhile since I’ve asked a woman on a date, so maybe I’m doing it wrong.”
“Well, it’s been awhile since a guy asked me on a date, so maybe I’ve just forgotten how to recognize the clues.” That pretty, wide mouth curled up in a slow smile.
She had to say yes. Because he really, really wanted to kiss that mouth. He wanted to fist his hand in that dark red hair and he wanted to press his face between the slight swell of her breasts and nuzzle the soft skin there.
He was a pretty good judge of people—he knew how to read them. Under most circumstances, at least, and he didn’t think he was reading her wrong.
If he was reading her right, then she was feeling that same, subtle tug that he felt. Banking on that, he reached out and skimmed his fingers down her forearm. “Well, now that we’ve figured out what we’re doing here, maybe we should try it again. I’d like to have dinner…with you. Would you be interested?”
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy ask me out on a date within five minutes of seeing me.” The smile on her face took on a bitter slant as she absently touched the dark glasses that shielded her eyes. “Usually, within five minutes of seeing me, they are either on the other side of the room or they are trying to cut my food for me.”
Ezra glanced at the lasagna on his plate. “I figure if you can make it, you can cut it just fine on your own. And you haven’t answered me.”
“No. I haven’t. I’m still thinking…hell. Screw it. You know what, Ezra? I’d love to have dinner with you.”
And then you build on it…
Give it supports…
Every time I turn around, he thought…Hell. Maybe this was some sort of sign. He started toward her table, but halfway there, he realized she wasn’t alone.
No, she was sitting at a table with two other people.
A woman, about her age, Ezra figured. She was a looker, too, blond, blue-eyed and tanned. Her blond hair was worn short and sleek. Her eyes rested on his for a few seconds in female appraisal.
Ezra looked at the guy, recognizing him from the other day. He’d been with Lena at the sheriff’s office. Judging by the look in his eye, the man had more than just a casual interest in her.
He glanced at Ezra and then leaned forward, murmured to Lena. Ezra didn’t catch a word, but Lena straightened and turned in his direction as he drew even with the table.
“Morning, Lena.”
“Ezra.”
A slow smile curled that pretty mouth. She cocked her head. She shifted in her seat, crossed one slender, jeanclad leg over the other. “We’re about done, but you’re welcome to join us. We’re just talking and drinking coffee. Avoiding the rain.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the look in her friend’s eye.
“There’s plenty of rain to avoid. Are you sure you don’t mind?” he asked.
“Of course not. After all, isn’t that what friends do?” she asked.
Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought her smile was just a tad bit mocking.
He managed not to wince. Friends—shit, that was the last thing he wanted…well, no. Not really. He did want to be friends with her. He just wanted more than that. A lot more.
Wanted, but couldn’t. Needed, even. Hell, he couldn’t quit thinking about her and he had to.
And then build some more…
“I can’t get you out of my head, Lena. You’re everywhere.” He cupped her face in his hands, angling her head back. “Can’t stop thinking about you, not from the first time I saw you.”
Lena’s sex life had been…limited. The last guy she’d been serious with had been Remy—sex with him had been fun, hot, and easy. They had been compatible in bed, but it hadn’t compared to this.
She and Ezra weren’t compatible.
They were damned near combustible.
It went deeper than the heat, though.
He made her laugh.
He made her smile.
Hell, he just made her happy.
“You’ve got that smile on your face again,” he murmured. “Like Sylvester the cat just got a hold of Tweety Bird, once and for all.”
“Do I?” She smirked and sat up, stroking a hand down his chest.
“Yeah. Kind of makes me wonder what you’re thinking about.”
“Nothing…exactly. Just this.” She shrugged, absently circling a finger around his navel.
He jumped and caught her hand. “Quit that.”
A grin tugged at her lips. “Quit what?” Unable to resist, she wiggled around until she was sitting up and raked the nails of her other hand down his side. When he flinched and caught that wrist as well, she started to chuckle. “You’re ticklish.”
She wiggled her hand free and poked him in the side again and he swore, catching her.
She tried to roll away and they ended up wrestling across the bed, laughing and swearing—although most of the swearing came from Ezra every time she managed to get free long enough to poke him in the ribs, under his arms. Even a light touch across his spine was enough.
“Whoever would have thought the big, tough cop would be that ticklish?” she teased as he rolled and pinned her beneath him.
“Brat,” he muttered, stretching her arms over her head and holding her wrists in one hand.
Biting the tip of her tongue, she twined a leg around and managed to stroke her big toe down his instep. He swore again and used his knee to press her thighs apart, pinning her hips against the bed. “Would you quit it!”
That ‘love at first sight’ thing is a lot more believable when people see that while that instant connection was there, they weren’t just blindly riding on it–they were building on it.
“You’ve known me for five weeks, Ezra. Five weeks. And you admitted it yourself not that long ago…you just came through a really, really bad experience,” she said quietly, cupping his face in her hands. “How can you think you love me?”
He laid a hand on her heart. “I think I started to fall in love with you that first night. You blushed when I called you beautiful…and then you shared your food with me. You got so nervous when I asked you for a date and I was scared as hell you would say no.” Smoothing his hand up, he rested it on her neck, used his thumb to angle her chin up. “I started to fall for you that night, Lena. I guess it’s why I backed away…maybe I didn’t think I could handle it.”
“And what makes you think you can handle it now?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can’t. But then again if I wait until I can handle things, then I never would do anything,” he murmured, rubbing his lips against hers. “Things happen when they happen, not when you’re ready for them.”
Of course…this is just my take on it.
But when I’m reading a ‘love at first sight’ book and I end up tossing it aside because it’s falling into that ‘insta-love’ thing where it’s all…’oh, i love you i love you i love you…’ but the writer fails to paint me a good, cohesive picture of that love…there is no bridge, in other words…this usually why.
FYI, the pic is mine. I took it at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery a few years ago…that’s the Headless Horseman’s Bridge.
April 11, 2014
Bloggers/Reviewers interested in reviewing Deeper than Need?
KindleParticularly if you are up on Netgalley…
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…
Noah couldn’t help it. While she was still laughing at him, he closed his mouth over hers. The need that had tormented him for so long threatened to drive him insane and all he wanted was to lose himself in her.
Spreading his hand out over the small of her back, he fisted the other in the golden silk of her hair as her laughter faded away and her mouth opened for him.
There was hunger here…and need.
It would be easy, he realized.
Too easy to get lost in her. In the sweetness of her kiss, the warm strength of her body.
She was lean and limber against him, all those curves pressed tight to his. He had to fight the urge to let his hands roam over all her, to learn every single inch, to learn her by touch, by sight, by taste. His cock pulsed against her belly and she kept moving against him. He had an overwhelming need to pin her against the nearest flat surface and just rock against her until he exploded.
Her chest moved in ragged, uneasy bursts against his own. The soft, sweet curve of her breasts pressed against him as she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck. The tight, hard points of her nipples scrapped against him and he thought he was going to go out of his mind. A whole new sort of temptation—one he hadn’t had to deal with before. Not like this. Never like this, because he was pretty certain he hadn’t everwanted like this…
All because of a kiss.
Her tongue moved against his, stroking along the curve of his lip before venturing into his mouth and Noah felt the muscles in his legs start to tremble. On a ragged breath, he tore away from her and pressed his brow to hers.
“So. Again…I think I’ve made my case pretty clear. A date isn’t a bad idea. Does tomorrow at eight work for you?”
The publisher made it available on Netgalley, although an invite is required. If you’re interested, please email me at shilohwalker2011 at gmail.com. Please include a link to your blog. If you are a bookseller or librarian, feel free to request one, but please mention the library or the bookstore where you work.
Please note…I have no control over acceptance/denial of reviews.
Coaches & Books
KindleSooo…. I’m doing this. It’s coming soon. For Break For Me & Long For Me.
The prize:
Coach purse (Worth $100 ~ Coach Outlet rocks)
3 signed books from my backlist
$20 GC to Amazon or BN
Signed cover flat for Sweeter than Sin (Adam has love tattoos…)
I was recently told this:
Jut finished Break for Me & Long For Me by @shilohwalker . I totally feel in love with Dean. TOTALLY. #smoothtalkingsouthernman
— smexys_sidekick (@smexys_sidekick) April 10, 2014
I loved Dean (Break For Me)… he was fun to write.
Here… read some more.
“I got words I need to say to you, but I’m not sure where to start.”
“Don’t.” Staring out at the dark street, she thought back to how often she had to hear the very words he probably felt he had to say. “I’ve heard them all before, Dean. They change nothing, you know. I’m raw right now, but the wounds are old. You didn’t know. It’s cool.”
“No.” He shook his head and said, “It’s not cool. Maybe these are old wounds, but I was taking digs at you over a personal thing and that just makes it more of a problem for me.”
She slanted him a look and felt her heart freeze in her chest, for one long, long moment.
There was something she’d meant to say. The words died, right there on the tip of her tongue as he took a deep, slow breath that seemed to shudder through him.
She felt it echo through her as well, her skin drawing tight while heat buffeted her.
No . . . no . . . no. Helplessly, she tried to gather up the strength to get up and walk away. This was no good. She couldn’t do this—
“You got that look in your eyes,” he said, a faint smirk twisting his mouth. He had the damnedest mouth. She’d had dreams about that mouth. Dreams about capturing his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his, feeling his body against hers as she learned how he felt, how he tasted.
Not good. Not good at all.
“It would be easier, you know.” He stared out over the street, that deep, rich voice of his level and smooth, rolling over her like liquid gold. She felt something melt deep inside her and she had to bite back a groan. “If I didn’t look at you and sometimes see the same damn thing I feel. Because I know you feel it. But you ignore it. Ignore me. That’s what pushed me. I was a fucking asshole, and I know it. That’s why it’s not cool. So I’m sorry.”
Licking her lips, she nodded. Get up, she told herself. Her legs didn’t want to cooperate and even once she managed to get vertical, her thighs were all trembling and weak. Swiping her palms down the outside of her jeans, she darted a quick look at him. “Don’t . . .” The words tangled on her tongue as their gazes connected. “Don’t let the thing about my mom get to you. You didn’t know. It’s okay.”
“There you go,” he murmured, turning his head, dipping it down just a little. The heavy fall of dreadlocks obscured his face and she had the insane urge to reach down, fist her hand in his hair so she could see him, see his face. Proud, arched cheekbones, that fucking sexy mouth, and those intense eyes.
She had no business wanting him. A want like this scared her.
Because it was so deep, so strong, she made herself take another step back.
Dean just nodded. “It’s okay, Jensen. I get it. You and me, we’re not going there. So I’ll . . .” He blew out a breath. “I’ll just stop.”
The words ripped out of her. “Stop what?”
He didn’t answer. Long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Woodford Reserve he had next to him and he rose. “I hope you can get some rest this weekend. Find some peace.”
“You didn’t answer me.”
He paused halfway up the steps. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about you. But I haven’t made much of an attempt to hide the fact that I’m interested. I can do better, so I will. You don’t want to see it, so I’ll keep it to myself. Sooner or later, it will fade.”
Will it?
She stared at the strong line of his back as he crossed the porch, her heart slamming away in her chest.
A knot formed in her throat.
This . . . this intensity she felt every time she looked at him. That could fade?
It was the most real thing she’d felt since . . .
She didn’t even realize she was moving until he’d turned to look at her.
Then she was doing the very thing she’d dreamed about.
His skin was warm against hers, the light stubble scraping against her palms. Because that light touch wasn’t enough, she kept one palm on his face and then drove the other hand into his hair, tangled it in his dreads. The texture was coarse against her hand and she shuddered at the thought of feeling him, all of him.
“I don’t want it to fade,” she whispered as she rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.
Wanna read all of it? It’s out soon…
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Check out the rest of the Secrets & Shadows series
April 10, 2014
Best laid plans
KindleI planned to do steaks on the grill last night.
But there was this…
Now there are several recipes that relate to Birds’ Nest…cookies, treats… some sort of birds’ nest soup…but I’m pretty sure none of those called for these ingredients, and I’m damn certain they aren’t needed for steak.
The good news is, the nest wasn’t quite done, I don’t think and there weren’t any eggs. We took it out. I’m not giving up my grill.
Also, I want to make it perfectly clear…somehow, this is Lynn Viehl’s fault.
I don’t know how she did it, but she found a way to pass her backyard animal shenanigans up here to Kentuckiana. I don’t want this weird/nest/birdhouse/hex thing. If you aren’t sure of what I’m talking about…
Well, just look. (pics are from Lynn’s blog…click on them to see the related crazy. FYI, that dove? Really doesn’t do birdhouses.)
Crazy Birds
Then there was this…
This bird doesn’t know what a birdhouse is meant for.
Which led to this…
See
And we won’t even talk about this…
Crazy snake
April 8, 2014
Want an ARC of Deeper than Need?
Kindle
I have one ARC left, set aside for a blog contest and it’s time to give that ARC away.
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…
Noah’s phone rang. He sighed as he saw Adam’s number. “I’m going to have to call him soon and see what’s so important.”
“Go ahead and call.”
Phone in hand, he mumbled, “Yeah.” But his mind wasn’t on Adam. His mind, his eyes, his entire attention was on the curve of Trinity’s butt, visible under that silly, insanely sexy petticoat as she bent over and swept her dress up from the floor.
She turned around and he jerked his gaze upward as a blush settled on his cheeks. She arched her brows at him and he grinned at her. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Um…well…” He scraped his nails down the growth of stubble on his face. “I guess I could say I really like the petticoat. How about that?”
Trinity chuckled, a low, husky sound that hit him in the gut like she’d reached out and caressed him. He thought maybe he’d try to for a fourth time, but before he could make a move on that, she sighed and pushed her hair back from her face, looking around the bedroom.
A shout rang from somewhere outside.
They both turned their heads and looked to the window.
It came again, closer.
“Noah!”
They rushed to the window.
Enter via the widget. Open for the next week. Winner’s name will be posted by the end of next week and you have to check back to see if you’ve won.
April 7, 2014
Did ya watch?
KindleI did. The first time and then the encore… I loved it. I’ve always loved the Revolutionary War period, so this naturally caught my interest.
Of course…it’s even more fascinating that it’s apparently based off a true story of the first spy ring in America.
April 6, 2014
Our E-Reader Winner is…
KindleThe winner of the ebook reader is…
Alexandra
thelu***lit*****@g****.***
She was bringing Adam & a chocolate fountain. No, she wasn’t chosen because of the chocolate fountain, I promise. Randomizer.org picked a random winner, I swear. :)
Alexandra, you’ve got two weeks to get in touch or the prize is forfeited, as per my disclaimer. :)
Thanks to all who entered…keep an eye out for the next contest. I do believe it includes a Coach purse.
April 5, 2014
Break For Me…
KindleSo… did you meet Tate from BURN FOR ME?
It’s time to meet Dean…and Jensen, Tate’s younger sister.
That attitude of hers shouldn’t be so appealing.
He understood the need for the attitude—he’d learned young to cover his, though. Cover the attitude, cover the teeth, all until he had reason otherwise. Jensen had either never learned to hide that attitude, or she just didn’t see the point and as he came to a stop next to her, she all but snarled at him.
“Yes?”
He didn’t even have a chance to figure out what to say—a problem with her, because looking into her eyes had a habit of leaving him temporarily dumbstruck. It only lasted a second or two—his mother had a habit of teasing him that she’d know he was serious about a woman when he found the one that made him shut his mouth for more than two seconds, and that woman, apparently, was Jensen.
But those two seconds were two seconds too long because a man he thoroughly disliked decided to make his presence known.
“You know, if it was me,” Detective Jeb Sims said, edging his way into the knot of people, one hand gripping a cup of coffee while the other rested on the butt of his weapon. He constantly seemed to be touching it. “I would have gone for the bigger problem anyway, Bell. Pruitt is a pimple on society’s ass, but you shoulda known he wasn’t going to do much time. It wasn’t a big bust or anything. Don’t go getting your panties in a twist.”
Dean tensed, something ugly building in his throat.
Jensen’s eyes went tight around the corners, something so minute, gone in a blink. She turned her head, the sleek fall of her hair shielding her face from him as she looked at Sims.
“Well, you see, that’s the difference between you and me, I guess, Jeb,” she drawled, her voice cool and lazy, like she didn’t give a damn about anything Sims had to say. “You see, I was focusing on the man, the meth lab, the laws . . . and the safety of his family. I’m a cop, you see. To serve and protect. The size of the bust wasn’t the issue. The safety of that kid and his mama were my number one concern.” She shrugged and looked away. “And don’t get too concerned about my panties, either. I’ll take care of them.”
“I just think—”
“I think you need to not worry about Bell’s cases,” Sorenson said, his voice mild. The look in his eyes was anything but. “Don’t you have some of your own to deal with anyway, detective?”
Jeb’s face went a slow, ugly shade of red, but he pasted a wide smile on his face. “That, I do. Sir.”
He ignored Dean completely.
After Sims moved out of the area, Dean tried to catch her eye but she looked directly at the chief. “I’m done for the day. You have a nice night.”
“You did good work today,” Sorenson said.
She nodded at him, tried to avoid looking at Dean.
You are not just going to completely ignore me. He moved to intercept her.
Her mouth flattened out.
“If you’ve got a minute, detective?” he asked.
“Actually, I’m afraid I don’t have many of them. I need to wrap things up for the day. I’m meeting my family in a bit.” She edged around him, moving to her desk with fast, easy strides.
He doubted he was the only one who noticed the looks the two of them got—not that anybody made any effort to hide them. Nosy fools. Ignoring the cops loitering in the area, he waited by her desk as she collected some files, moved them into her bag.
“It won’t take but a minute. I’ll just walk you to your car.”
Something flashed in her eyes, but she gave him a tight smile and strode past him.
He matched her quick strides easily. She moved damned fast, he’d give her that. Five foot two, he’d bet, and she moved like the entire world was an obstacle course she had to conquer and she only had a finite amount of time to do it. They hit the doors and he paused to see which way she’d go.
They were outside in the brilliant light of the summer sun in a moment and he fell into step beside her as she headed down the street.
“You made a clean arrest.”
A withering look came across her face.
“I’m well aware of that, Mr. West. But thanks for the seal of approval. It means the world to me.”
Ouch. She had a bite to her. Another thing he found all too appealing about her.
There was very little about her he didn’t find appealing. That just served to make moments like this harder.
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April 1, 2014
Last minute release day party… BURN FOR ME
KindleWith the madness of getting ready for Scotland and other assorted madness, I had no time to prepare the whirlwind sorta blog parties that I try to do with my big releases.
So…let’s try a last minute release day party.
I’ll bring the door prizes.
You bring a date and something else…munchies or drinks or both. (I’m partial to buffalo wings.)
FIRST! Pick out your date… there’s a bit of a twist here, though. The date has to come from the Secrets & Shadows series. Here’s my story board…
Me? I kinda liked Dean, Noah & Caine…
Dean…image via Hello Beautiful
Caine …image via Model Mayhem
Noah…image via IMDB
And since I’m hosting the party, I guess I oughta bring something…I’ll order in some pizza and there are two bottles of rum, plus some coke and diet coke. I have some scotch I got in Scotland, but that’s mine. And I’m greedy.
(It’s gotta be easy…I’ve got to finish getting things together!)
Things…like this?
Everybody who comes to the party…(meaning you bring a date and a ‘cyber’ offering of food or drink) gets their name entered to win an ebook reader…either a Kindle Paperwhite, a Kobo Touch or a Nook Glowlight.
One party goer will win an ebook reader. All you have to do to enter is drop your name in comments below and tell me which of the characters from the series you want to bring as a date, and then tell me what you’re bringing to the party. Food, drinks… (if it’s a drink and you wanna leave the recipe, that’s awesome!)
This party will last all week, so be prepared.
A quick look at today’s release!
Scarred long ago by the disappearance of his mother, Nichole, Tate Bell aches to spend his days and nights with Ali Holmes, a woman he’s loved for years. But while Ali’s heart pines to be with Tate, her head has reservations… Ali knows that Tate has never forgiven his father for the fight he had with Nichole right before she left the house—and was never heard from again. Ali thinks that Tate’s unresolved anger is a force to be reckoned with…even though the heat that blazes between them is undeniable. Now both Tate and Ali are left to wonder: Can love really conquer all?
~*~
I’m not going to cry because it’s over.
I’m not going to cry because it’s over.
I’m not going to cry—
She hiccupped as a sob broke free.
Bringing her knees to her chest, she buried her face against them.
Lost in the hurt, she didn’t hear his footsteps. It wasn’t until he closed his hands around her ankles that she even realized she wasn’t alone.
Jerking her head up, she stared into Tate’s gaze. His eyes, so dark they were nearly black, bore into hers.
“Tate . . .”
He tugged her legs down and she curled her hands around the edge of the porch swing, her heart slamming against her ribs. He went to lean in and she lifted a hand, pressed it to his chest.
“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “I’m not . . . we can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”
He didn’t seem to realize she’d even spoken as he reached up and closed one hand around her wrist, his thumb stroking against her inner wrist as she continued to press against his chest. “Ali . . .”
His heart slammed against her palm and his shirt, soaked by the rain, was no barrier between them. She felt the scalding heat of his skin. Drops of rain clung to his hair and as she stared into his eyes, one of the drops fell, caught on his cheekbone, and rolled down. It hit her wrist and she was surprised it didn’t sizzle, as hot as she suddenly felt.
It was a heat that echoed deep inside her, down low in her belly and every beat of her heart sent that heat pulsing through her until she thought she might explode.
The seconds drew out and she took a slow, deep breath. His gaze dropped to her mouth and she had to bite back a moan.
“Tate, stop,” she whispered, forcing the words out. That hunger continued to pang inside her, making her skin feel tight, hot. She had to curl her fingers into a fist to keep from reaching for him. “I’m tired of only having part of you. I told you. It’s all or nothing and you won’t give me everything—”
He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to her inner wrist. That gentle caress sent shivers racing through her. Blood started to roar in her ears, so loud it took her a minute to realize he had started to speak.
Look for stories from the other Bell siblings in late April and early May.
Amazon | BN | Kobo | iBooks | Google Play
Quick rundown on rules, because it’s a contest and that means I have to have them.
Open worldwide, but you’re responsible for requesting the device that will be functional in your place of residence…not me.
As this is supposed to be fun, please don’t just…enter me to win…go along with the way the contest is set up…yanno, pick a date, bring a ‘cyber’ food or drink…
You must be eighteen or the age of majority in your country of residence to enter.
The winner’s name will be posted to my blog next week. Please check back to see if you’ve won. You’ll have two weeks to claim the prize. If you fail to claim the prize, it’s void. A new name will not be re-drawn, per my contest rules. For the rest of the rules, please see my disclaimer.
FYI…ENTERING the contest means you’ve read and agreed to the rules laid out in the disclaimer.
Full disclosure… I kinda got the idea from Barbara Vey and her awesome parties that she’s done over the years.
