Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 76

Chasing…

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This week?  We’re pursuing the one we love… or well, that’s the theme in the snippet.

A breeze kicked up and blew my hair into my face. I squinted and put the rag down before finding a clip in my bag.  As I was twisting my hair back, I looked up and saw him.  He was sitting closer now.  Closer than he usually sat.  The table that was only fifteen away and he sat on top of it, two bottles of water next to him. I recognized the label.  Aquafina.

And I also couldn’t help but notice that he stared at me.

That damned knot that always settled in my throat decided to make another appearance. Slowly, I looked away and focused on gathering up my supplies. I’d had over three hours.  I didn’t need to start anything else.  Soon, I’d need to get to work on the projects I had up for the day.

There was that one cover…I was going to have fun with it.  It was a male/male project and the…

My jaw dropped open.

The wind had blown the pages of my sketchbook.

And on the back of the sketch I’d just finished were the words.

If you’re going to spend that much time drawing me, maybe you could give me your name.

I’d definitely like yours.

He’d seen.

Oh, fuck.  He had seen it… that intimate picture, that dream I’d dared to let myself have while I was awake, of me, on my knees in front of him, a dream that even now filled me with longing.  He had seen.

He had looked through my sketches, just as I’d feared.

I’d definitely like yours…

(dunno what’s going on with this still.  sorry!)

Myla Jackson

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Caris Roane

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M. Roth

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Felicity Heaton

TJ Michaels

Things that make me feel good

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Goal achieved… that was easy.  100 Comments made.  I’ll be making that donation to Girls Write Now.  

… So a racist, misogynist dude decided to use the SFWA twitter feed (it’s been deleted, don’t look for it) to further his own hateful agenda.

Freedom of speech, yadda yadda yadda, but such use of the feed was expressly forbidden, I believe.

Anyway, it pisses me off. I like to turn hate into good things. He gets lots of comments on his blog, lots of pats on the back from people who think women ruin SF and belong in the kitchen, barefoot, probably, etc. So I’m going to do this.

For every comment that blog post gets, up to $100, I’m donating $1 to Girls Write Now, a charity that serves girls/women in New York City.

Cuz while spewing bile is his thing, kindness is mine.

Comments off and I totally moderate comments, especially from hateful trolls.

Job opening

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Spam me, and I reserve the right to mock you.

Which I’ll do.  I got this in my email…seriously.  I added my thoughts in bold.

- Requires five years customer service experience or two years general office experience …well.  I do work in my office.  Sometimes in my jammies.  Or yoga pants.  Does that count?

- A strong work ethic and positive attitude … a positive attitude?  Clearly you don’t know who you’re talking to.

- Wide Inter-personal skills, organization skills, strong analytical ability … um… or gan izah shun…you got me.  I’ve no idea what this word means.  Let me go google–ack!  MY EYES… MY EYES!

- Must have experience, confidence, and ability to conduct security briefings and interviews when required … can I record these briefings and post them to youtube?

- Must have experience executing vendor contracts and price negotiation skills … so check. The vendors get the highest costs they want.  They got families. Right?

- Knowledge of word processing, database, and spreadsheet software … well.  I can help you with the word processing thing, but to the rest, you’re on your own.

- No drug misdemeanors within the past 5 years and ability to pass a drug screen … but if I’ve got a drunk driving record or broke into the bank across the way, that’s all good, right?

A break…

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This post is sticky… there may be newer posts below.

I need a break.

My brain is tired.  To be blunt, I feel burnt-out, not on writing, but on all the stuff that isn’t writing but is necessary to do in order to be a writer.  Although if I could take a month or two off from writing, I’d do it in a heartbeat.  Sadly, I’ve never caught up from how sick I was a couple of years ago.  I used to have enough of a backlog to let me take a week or so here and there.  Not any more.  Time is something I never have enough of.

So if the blog goes a little quiet, I’m just taking some downtime and I might not be as visible on twitter or facebook for a while either. I’ll be around, just not as much.

To make up for it, I’m posting a nice long excerpt from BROKEN BLADE over at the J.C. Daniels site.

I’ll be around… just not as much.  You all take it easy.

 

 

Love Hurts… Saturday Snippet

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From Broken Blade

“What the fuck?” I whispered. I flexed my hand and longed for the weight of my blade. She wasn’t there, though, and I had to make do with the gun. Mesmerized, I stared at it, barely even aware I’d drawn it. Why was I holding the damn gun?

“Kit.”

I jerked my head to look at TJ.

She was watching me sadly. “He’s hurting, too, Kit. Don’t hate me too much. I’m just trying to help you, kid.”

“What—”

It hit me then and I lunged for the back door.

Another frenzy of lightning hit and then the ward shattered with a groan. Bits and pieces of magic fell to the earth, sparkling in the air. I could see them from the corner of my eyes and the death of the ward sucked the air out of me. If I’d moved a few seconds sooner, I would have gotten away.

But I was sensitive to magic and the power of the ward death’s left me reeling. As I stumbled against the bar, I was painfully aware of the roar echoing through the bar.

The doors opened and spat Damon’s bloodied form at my feet.

I backed up, determined to get something between us.

Something. TJ. Goliath. Anything or anybody.

But TJ had disappeared.

And I was alone with Damon.

Longer excerpt coming soonish.

Myla Jackson

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Caris Roane

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M. Roth

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Felicity Heaton

From the bratlet

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I wanted her to let me sign the bratlet.  She refused.  She’s picked up a name for her artwork.

M. Walker.

And this is M. Walker’s interpretation of Kit and Damon.

 

It’s the first fan** art I’ve seen of Kit and Damon and maybe the only I’ve ever see, but as fas as I’m concerned, it’s also some of the best out there.

I prefer to go with reader-inspired…. can we go with reader-inspired?

She’s currently mad at me cuz I won’t tell her what I’m doing with the series and she hasn’t read beyond Blade Song yet.

I’m mean that way.

Look what’s coming back out in print…

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It’s been a couple of years, I think, since they were available.

We kept the price as low as we could, two books for $12.99.

 

The other Hunter books will follow, but I don’t know when.  For now, it’s available for pre-order on Amazon, not sure if we are going to be able to get it for pre-order elsewhere… something we’re working on.  More info here…

FYI, I’ve had people ask if I’m going to reconsider pursuing the series…no.  I’m not. Sales had slumped off and unless some sort of absolute miracle happened, it’s not feasible on my end.  I’m sorry. I hope you understand.

Heads-up! Some soldiers REALLY in need of help

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This lady is needing some help for a unit that’s coming back home.  Twenty seven soldiers are coming back and they don’t really have anybody to help them settle in.  They will back to a room with a mattress, basically.

She’s already gotten some smaller things, but could use help with the bigger items like sheets, etc.  She’s also running out of time…it seems like the easier thing to do with be send donations in the form of Walmart GCs and she can just pick up everything that is needed with the GCs.

I know some people might not be too comfortable with it, but the name was given to me by Kelley, the lady who heads up the SOS unit I help out and this is likely a lot easier than sending twin-sized bedding, (sheets, pillow cases) and shower curtains, etc.

If you are able and want to help out the soldiers, this is a wonderful way… you can send a Walmart gift card or donation to

Chanel Caldwell

5244-1 Yeakel St

Ft Hood TX 76544

They only have until the 17th to get everything ready, so time really isn’t on our side.

Again, this info is accurate and up to date, passed on to me by Kelley.  She’s the lady who gives me all the info for the SOS units I help out so I do know it is accurate and any help you can give would be very much appreciate, whether you can send $5 GC to Walmart or a new set twin sheets, a shower curtain, etc.

FYI, it’s okay to post this info to blogs, but please don’t post to FB, etc.

 

I’m no Barbie

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So I’m late to the ruckus… I don’t work much on weekends and I had a date night, no kids, no pups, just me and my guy and a hotel and relaxation, something we so needed, and this wasn’t getting in the way.

But I don’t want to not post my thoughts on this.

I’m not a Barbie Doll.

 

Image via Altered Barbie

I never have been, nor will I ever be.

I’m not going to go into the whole back story…

You can read about it here, here, some of the shit that a female SF has to deal with here or Jim Hines lists a bunch of links here.

Suffice it to say, there’s a bunch of sexism going on within SFWA, people are getting tired of it and are speaking up and others don’t like the fact that people are speaking up over something pisses us off.

Crap like this has been going on for a while and seems to be coming to a head within SFWA.

I’m not terribly active in the SF/F community and at times like this, I can’t decide if I’m happy of that or if I regret it.

Had I attended any of these cons where I saw female authors being talked over, being talked down to, being referred to as ‘token’ females…well, I’m…ah, well.  I’ve never been known for keeping my mouth shut and playing nice is a skill I never learned.

I don’t think I would have made a lot of friends, but I’m not necessarily looking to make friends.

I am a member of SFWA, based on the PNR romances I sold. My contribution to the SF/F writing world would be minimal, although I spend an awful lot of dollars…really, writers, a lot of female dollars are spent in your world–more, probably, than you realize.  Maybe you should ponder that and appreciate it.

But back to the writing world, the closest I come to the SF/F world would be my UF series, the Colbana Files.  And yucky-gross, those have sex in them.  Girl cooties and all that.

I’m a reader of SF/F.  I love the SF written by authors like Ann Aguirre and S.L. Viehl.  Hey, those are women. Character-driven stories like the Grimspace series and Stardoc just call to me and I make no bones about it.

I love Myke Cole’s stories and one of my die hard faves? Dave Wolverton’s Serpent Catch.  I’m a mad lover of Star Wars, I adore LOTR.    I’m something of a geek.

I read SF.  I read fantasy.  I love and adore UF.

I haven’t followed as much of this fray as some people and it’s probably a good thing, because my blood pressure can’t handle it.

I hate sexism.  The SF world has sexism in spades…dinosaurs (FYI, using these term doesn’t have anything to do with their chronological age, more to do with their refusal to come out of the stone age) who think it’s okay to ask women to fetch coffee, people who think it’s okay to refer to women on panels at the token female.  There are people who thinks it’s totally A-OK to have chats about women but they don’t focus on the person’s abilities…sexy they were, how hot they are.  Screw their abilities.  They become body parts and sex objects.

And when people object? Forget people listen to those objections… we should act like Barbie…and carry on with quiet dignity.

Um, yeah.  You can shove that up your tailpipe, buddy.

Being a woman very often means you’re going to be insulted, ignored, condescended, treated as insignificant, devalued, viewed as an object, and the list goes on and on and on…we get so blind to the shit that comes our way at times.

Maybe the problem is that we carried on with quiet dignity for too long.

All women want is to be treated as the equal.  That’s not that frickin’ hard.

At least…it shouldn’t be.

FYI, no woman is your fricking Barbie doll or your coffee girl.

I’ll keep my SFWA membership, because I know the asses aren’t the majority, even when it seems that way.

And maybe I’ll even try to figure out where the regional SF/F cons are and start hitting them.  Who knows… maybe what some of these things need are more loudmouths on hand.  It’s possible we’ve been quiet and dignified long enough.

Also, for a good kick, head over to that Altered Barbie link up top.  ;)  Some really interesting twists on Barbie…and very few are dignified.

Heat Wave… Saturday Snippets

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Untitled, I dunno what I’m doing with it and I don’t know what it’s going to be. But I’m working on it.

“Have you ever wanted something so bad, but been so afraid to reach out?  And even if wanted reach out, you didn’t know how?” I asked, the words muffled aganst his skin.

He stroked a hand up my back.  “I’ve been wanting something pretty fucking bad for the past few months,” he said, his voice gruff.  “And yeah, I’ve been afraid to do anything about it, because one wrong move is going to ruin it.”  He rubbed his cheek against mine and murmured, “What’s the wrong move here, sugar?  Do I move back?  We can go out to dinner, catch a movie.  I can come back another day…”

I pushed him back.

My heart thudded in my ears, roaring like a lion as I stared into his eyes.

The wrong move.

After an entire lifetime of them, it seemed like I should be able to recognize the wrong movie easily enough.

But it wasn’t as easy as one might think.

If the wrong move was reaching out to grab the hem of his shirt and drag it up, would I hear warning bells?

I don’t know, but I did that, and I did it slow, listening for said bells.

There were none. Just the roaring in my ears.

My hands trembled as I stripped his shirt away. He ducked his head as I went to pull it off and I paused, lingering over his short hair, stroking my hands over his scalp.  He kept his head bowed and I leaned in, pressed my lips to his head, felt a rush of need, a rush of emotion and yearning and warmth and wonder crash through me.

I didn’t want to feel like this.

It frightened me.

But there was no stopping it.

My hands fell away and he lifted his head, staring at me, the velvet of his eyes intense, hot as molten chocolate, lingering on my face before dropping to rest on my mouth.  “I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice blunt and uncompromising.

“Then do it.”

Maybe if I let him take control here, I could handle this better.  It wasn’t a scary thing if I wanted him to take control of it, right?

One hand stroked up my middle, stopping on my neck, just under my chin and he angled my head back, lowered his until his mouth was just a breath away.  “Do it,” he whispered.  “Just like that.  What about our date?”

“Maybe I want this to be the date,” I said, forcing the words out of my tight throat.  “Or maybe we can do this, then go out.”

He laughed, rubbing his lips over mine.  “Sugar, if this keeps up, you and I are going to be horizontal and I think you know it very soon.”

I blinked at him, my heart jumping up to lodge in my throat.  Horizonatal.  With him.  The idea didn’t bother me at all.

“Or maybe vertical…” He caught one of my legs, dragging me open and leaning in against me.  “Right like this would work just about perfect.”

My breath froze as I felt him rock against me, the silk of my panties gliding back and forth.

And the sensation was too much, way, way too much.

My nails bit into his shoulders as I clutched him against me.  He sank his teeth into my lower lip.

And I climaxed, right there.

“That,” he growled.  “That is just about perfect.”