Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 82
April 1, 2013
Wrecked… dreaming of you
Kindle
The last thing she should have been doing before she drifted to sleep was thinking about Zach.
Because the first thing she did once she slid into the dark, warm embrace of dreams was think about him . . . and there he was.
Steel Ink wasn’t precisely the place she would have expected to find herself, but as she lay back in the chair, she decided she wouldn’t complain. And she already knew she was dreaming. It was the only way to explain why she was in the chair wearing nothing but panties and a tank top, and why he was bent over her, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. He wasn’t doing anything sexual. At least it shouldn’t feel that way, but as he transferred a design onto her skin, Abigale had to bite back the urge to moan.
Long, agile fingers stroked down her hip and although she didn’t know why, when he peeled the paper away, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her hipbone. Her breath caught in her chest as she felt the glide of his hair across her skin. “Is . . . ah . . . is that part of the service?”
“No.” He kissed a little higher, nudged her shirt out of the way. “This is a special service. Just for you.”
Her laugh sounded breathless, even to her own ears. Then he caught the hem of her shirt and dragged it higher, exposing her breasts, and she didn’t have the breath to laugh, to think . . . “And just what does this service entail?” she asked.
“Whatever you want.” He curved a hand over her knee. At the same time he caught one nipple in his mouth, tugging it gently with his teeth as she arched up against him, her back leaving the cushioned softness of the bench behind her. “What do you want, Abs?”
The low, husky sound of his voice hit her square in the heart. And lower. Heat spread through her and because it was a dream, because it was safe, she caught his hand and guided it between her thighs. “I want you.”
His mouth closed over hers. Shocking and hot, the kind of kiss she hadn’t had in far too long . . . and neither of the two men she’d been with had been able to make her feel like this. Like she was the very center of everything. Zach’s hand cupped her core, but he did nothing else as he kissed her and the kiss was even more intimate, more erotic than the feel of his hand between her thighs. His tongue stroked along the curve of her lower lip, teasing her until she opened for him and then teasing a little more until she was about ready to scream. When she might have pulled away, he shifted, pulled her off the chair and onto his lap.
“No pulling back now,” he muttered. “You wanted a torrid affair, I’ll fucking give you one.”
She tensed, caught off guard. Just a dream . . . only a dream, so yeah, he knew. But could she really?
“It’s a dream,” he whispered against her lips. “You do what you want.”
“I want you.”
Lifting her head, she stared into those familiar blue eyes, eyes she’d known for more than half of her life. So dark and hypnotic. So amazing. Lifting her hands, she cupped his face, her fingers pushing into the gold-streaked brown hair that fell to his shoulders. Holding him steady, she lowered her head to his, pressed her mouth to his. Against his lips, she murmured quietly, “I want you.”
Between her thighs, through his jeans, her panties, she could feel him throbbing against her and it was enough to make her moan. “Then have me,” he whispered. “Have—”
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March 31, 2013
Happy Easter
Kindle
image is mine…taken in St. Augustine this past week.
March 30, 2013
Author’s choice…Saturday Snippets…
Author’s Choice…
“I got him to move?” she asked, pushing away from the counter. “Exactly how did I do that? We’ve been seeing each other for exactly two weeks. He moved to Tucson years ago.”
The door opened, but neither of them paid it much attention.
“He’s spent more than half of his life doing exactly what you wanted him to do, Abby,” Sebastian said, his voice icy, full of disgust. “Are you ever going to—”
“Sebastian.”
He cut a look over his shoulder at Zane. “Back off,” he snapped. “This is between me and Abby.”
“There shouldn’t be a damn thing between you and Abby,” Zane said.
Abigale glanced over at Zane and the look on his face was one of apology, but she ignored it, looking back at Sebastian. “Am I ever going to what?” she demanded.
“Sebastian, if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Zane warned. “I’m going to—”
Whipping her head around, Abigale glared at Zane. He’d been liked the big brother she never had, teasing her, protecting her, needling her. And right now, he was pissing her off.
“Zane, you shut the fuck up, or I’m going to punch you,” she said.
She was vaguely aware the door had opened again, vaguely aware that more people had trickled into the kitchen, but she didn’t give a damn. Sebastian was still glaring at her, although when he shot the people around them a look, a muscle pulsed in his jaw.
“We’ll discuss it some other time,” he said quietly.
“Oh, the hell we will.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him. “You started this here. We finish this here. I want to know just how in the hell I’m controlling Zach. I want to know how I’m stopping him from chasing after a life back in California . . . even though he sure as hell doesn’t want it.”
“How would you know?” Sebastian snapped. He shoved a hand through his hair and advanced on her, bending down to snarl in her face. “You don’t know shit about what he wants, because the one thing he does want? You’ve never even—”
His eyes shot over her shoulder and Abigale watched as he slowly straightened. His jaw clenched and that pretty face of his went hard as stone. “Zach.”
A hand came up and curled over Abigale’s shoulder. Abruptly, the rush of anger cleared from her head and she felt a little sick as she looked around. Almost the entire family had gathered in there. Not just Denise and Ron. Not just Zach’s brothers and their dates. But cousins, kids, friends. Nearly thirty people had managed to squeeze their way inside the brightly-lit kitchen and they were now watching the entire thing.
Pressing a hand to her belly, she blew out a breath and then shifted her attention over to Denise and the twins. The hell if she apologized to Sebastian, the jackass. But Denise, the twins . . . it was their day. “Denise, guys, I am so sorry,” she whispered.
Denise’s eyes snapped and burned, but she smiled at her. “Abby, I don’t think you’re the one who needs to apologize.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed as he slid his mother a look.
Then he looked back at Abigale and like he was chewing off ragged bits of rusty metal, he bit out, “Sorry.”
Without looking at anybody else, he turned to go.
Zach, until that moment, hadn’t said a word. But then, after a gentle squeeze on her shoulder, he eased around her. “Sebastian, kid . . . you and me need to have a word.”
March 28, 2013
Another snippet…vacationing still in progress…
Snippet!
from WRECKED… due out REALLY soon.
“Hey, Zach.”
She glanced down and he followed her gaze, saw that she had the journal he’d picked up for her. “Did you bring that here to beat me up with it or something?”
She laughed. “Well, there is something about an unexpected action . . .” Then she shrugged. “Nah. I actually figured out a plan. It’s a weird one, but I’m here to ask you to help me do one of the things on the list.”
“Okay . . .” He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and waited.
“I want a tattoo.”
Zach closed his eyes. Reaching up, he rubbed his right ear and then said, “You want what?”
“A tattoo.” She wiggled the book . “I wrote it down and everything. I did it last night and I’ve thought about it all day and I’m sure I want to do it, so stop looking at me like I’ve lost my mind, okay?”
“You wrote a plan that includes getting a tattoo,” he said slowly. His mind was churning at the very idea of it and his blood was boiling. Putting his hands on her . . . focus on the issue at hand, Barnes! “And you want me to do it.”
“Well . . .” She grinned at him and the dimple in her chin winked at him. “The tattoo part is in the plan. And who else would I ask? You’re my best friend, right?”
He pressed the heel of his hand to his eye. “You sure about this, sugar?”
“Yes.” She tapped the book against her leg, looking around. “Ah . . . does that mean you’ll do it?”
“Like I’d let anybody else,” he muttered. “Do you know what you want?”
She shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought it through that far. I was kind of thinking you could help me figure it out.”
He shoved a hand through his hair and glanced around. The parlor was empty. “When did you want to do this?” He could take some time to think up some designs for her. Take some time to get a grip and—
“Now.”
So much for taking time to get a grip.
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March 26, 2013
Vacation… I am ON IT!
But, so you all don’t get bored…
Here.
Snippet!
from WRECKED… due out REALLY soon.
“Not happening. All you want to do is get up and start having a meltdown, sugar.” He moved tugged on her foot and said, “Come here.”
She blinked at him. “What?”
Heaving out a sigh, he reached for her and hauled her into his lap.
She stiffened and shoved against his chest. “Zach, would you—”
“Calm down,” he said easily. He settled her on his lap. She’d spent more than a few nights like this when she’d been falling apart. Either on his lap while she cried after her dad died, or curled up against him after a marathon movie session. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Why it suddenly felt so different, she didn’t know. Unless it was just post-break-up stress. Yeah. Had to be that.
“You’re too wound up about this,” Zach said quietly. He stroked a hand down her back and eased her against his chest.
Wound up. Yes, she was definitely that and there was no denying that she was certainly freaked out about the current chaos of her life, but that wasn’t the only problem. That was what really had her sitting there so rigid and unyielding, despite the fact that she wanted to wilt against him and just . . . be. Just like that.
Except if she didn’t relax, he was going to figure out, fast, that something was up. Then she’d have to lie or something because she couldn’t very well tell him that she was having these crazy thoughts. And great, now she was rambling inside her own head.
Get a grip. She took a slow, deep breath and blew out it. Focusing on the dragon that wrapped around his left bicep, she stared at the scales. Wound up. Yes. She was. But it was hard to say what she was more worked up over, the screwed-up wreck that was her life, or the hot mess that was her body.
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March 25, 2013
WRECKing it up…who is it?
Welcome to Shiloh Walker’s latest and greatest latest and weirdest way to spread the word about new books. This time, she enlisted fellow authors Helenkay Dimon , Thea Harrison and Alyssa Day and there is absolutely NO THEFT taking place…she didn’t go on a rampage and steal things. She’s not trying to reunite lost lovers…nope.
These four authors are going to descend upon each other’s blogs and cause a tiny little bit of chaos. I really wanted to WRECK things, but I didn’t think I could talk them into letting me crash our websites and that kind of defeats the purpose of promoting our new releases if you can’t access the website to read about them, right?
So…instead, we’ll just switch things up a little…you play a guessing game and right or wrong, you get entered for fun prizes. Visit each blog, you get entered each time. It’s easy!
This author calls her man Navy Guy. She just spent a year in Japan. It’s possible she used to be a lawyer…and she has a thing for B movies.
Who is she?
The Grendel roared out another threat, something about eating his nuts, maybe. He wasn’t sure. Grendels weren’t the brightest, even in their human forms. Just then moonlight glinted off a very large something in the creature’s ham-sized fist, and he dove for her, pushing her flat against the roof just as the gun went off.
“He has a gun,” she said. “An axe and a gun.”
“I noticed that,” he murmured, distracted by the feel of her body underneath him. He was going to hell a thousand times over for this, but he hadn’t been this close to a woman in longer than he cared to admit, and he took a moment to simply enjoy the feel of her body against his.
“He has a gun,” she repeated, her eyes enormous in her pale face. “We need to do something before he figures out a way to get up here.”
“Grendels don’t like heights,” he said, breathing in her scent, touching his forehead to hers before rubbing his cheek against her silky skin. “I swore to stay away from you, you know? Swore to myself. And yet here we are.”
So… which author do think this is? Is it Shiloh Walker , Helenkay Dimon , Thea Harrison and Alyssa Day
You can visit our sites…look through our latest releases, or just take a random guess. Right or wrong, you’re entered!
March 23, 2013
Well, it is a job. There is also a sale! Hunter’s Rise
Today’s theme is JOBS!
And Sylvia is an assassin. That’s a job, right?
“I’m just trying to make sure I have a nice, easy life.” Faith shrugged, unconcerned. “Just like you have a nice, easy life. It’s only fair.”
Fair. Fair? The absurdity of the conversation was almost enough to make Sylvia choke on the wine. Except she’d actually heard more absurd shit in her long life. After all, she was an assassin—very often, people didn’t have good reasons for wanting to see another person dead.
“Fair…” Sylvia lowered her glass of wine to the bar and spun around, studying the blonde and her friend. “Life really doesn’t have a great deal to do with being fair, does it?”
“Excuse me?”
Sylvia James leaned back against the bar and crossed her legs, an amused smile on her lips, keeping a hand on her purse. “I mean, if you wanted to talk about fair, we could talk about the fact that it wouldn’t be unfair to expect a woman to actually abide by the vows she took.”
Faith went white, and then red. Not quite so pretty now when she was pissed. Sylvia smiled. She was going to make the woman even angrier shortly.
Next to Faith, her friend squirmed uncomfortably. “Hey, lady, we’re just…”
“You, my dear, were just avoiding a whole shitload of trouble,” Sylvia said, resting an elbow on the bar, flicking her a glance before looking back at Faith. “You, on the other hand…”
“Bitch, why don’t you mind your own business?” Faith narrowed her eyes.
“My own business?” Arching a brow, she slid off the stool and sauntered closer to the table the women shared. “Maybe we should just get down to business then…?” Without waiting for an answer, she reached into her purse and withdrew a small digital recorder, hit the play button.
Faith’s voice, recorded two days ago, came out.
And Sylvia didn’t need supersensitive hearing to hear Faith’s breath catch as her eyes darted to the recorder and then back up to Sylvia’s face.
“Now, Ms. Dwyer, what were you saying about minding my own business?” With one hand resting on her purse, she leaned over the table, peering into Faith’s dazed eyes. “You called me. I told you I’d be here. I told you to take precautions. I told you to be discreet. I also told you…no lies.”
She paused and sipped her wine, studying the dark red liquid, desperately wishing it was something else. “Now I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes. You weren’t discreet. You didn’t take precautions. And…” She drew her voice out, studying the woman through her lashes, watching as the blood slowly drained from Faith Dwyer’s face. “You lied to me.”
More!
It’s also on sale for $1.99
B & N | Amazon | Indiebound | Book Depository | BAMM
Other authors talking jobs…
Myla Jackson
Jody Wallace
March 21, 2013
A #FF sort of thing
So this is different… I’m doing a FF thing… on my blog! Courtesy of Parajunkee!
Q: What is your guilty pleasure as far as reading? Is it a genre, or is it a certain type of book?
My answer? I’ll be honest, I don’t tend to have a lot of guilty pleasures. I started reading romance young (like 12) and I felt guilty then… I’m 36 now and I long since outgrew that.
What say you!
#dabwaha Ladies and gentlemen… your mission, should you choose to accept it
Your Mission:
Help me win.
The Obstacle:
MELJEAN BROOK… she’s a tough opponent. The good news… she’s in her writing cave and we can do a sneak attack.
(1) Riveted v. (16) Blade Song
The Prize:
More Damon POVs…maybe even an excerpt from BROKEN BLADE.
and just to give you an incentive…an unplanned POV.
This is from in Kit’s office…right before things went to hell. Don’t worry… this isn’t too spoiler-rific.
She flipped the lock and I felt that low level burn I’d come to associate with magic. The wards were up. Good enough.
She turned to face me and I did the one thing I had to do…I gave into the urge and I tore that fucking shirt off her. She smelled of another man and I knew it was from work–I knew her job, knew the kind of shit she had to do, but the smell of another man on her skin had the animal inside me snarling.
And it made me ache. I wanted to be the one who was there for her, helping her do whatever she needed done and I couldn’t be.
But I could do this. Could touch her now, could have her with me. Brushing the shreds of the shirt off her, I reached for her and pulled her against me. She was pale and soft and she sighed under my hands.
“Baby girl,” I whispered, mindless and desperate. She shivered against me as I pressed my mouth to the mark on her neck.
She felt small but so incredibly strong, soft but steel ran through her core and she drove me out of my mind. I lifted her up and braced her against the door at her back. She arched against me and I could feel the heat of her, all wet and sweet and that alone had me ready to come. She moved again and my dick pulsed. ”Be still,” I muttered against her mouth. Be still or I’m going to embarrass myself… The soft, subtle scent of her flooded my head, but there was also something else. The cloying, dark thread of a male. Magic. Fowled. Wrong. It clung to her, pissed me off. Tearing the sturdy, solid material of her pants away helped. Getting her naked help even more. Feeling her wrapped around my dick would be the best thing yet.
“I don’t ever want you wearing those clothes again.” Not that it was an issue. The clothes were trashed.
I watched her eyes, that sharp, cunning green, soft now with want…
Damon (yeah, yeah, I know it looks like Dwayne Johnson)
Want more? I’ll write more! If you help me advance to the next round of the #dabwaha! Go! Vote! Voting here… open 3.21.2013 at 12:00 pm – 11:59 pm CST.
Image from Dwayne Johnson’s Instagram account.
March 20, 2013
A bit of a bribe…prior to #dabwaha voting… BROKEN BLADE!
FYI… do not read if you haven’t read NIGHT BLADE.
YOU SAW THE WARNING…right?
Okay.
There are spoilers!
Now…I’m posting a short snippet from BROKEN BLADE. Do not read this if you haven’t read NIGHT BLADE. I kid you not. You’ll be confused…and there might be spoilers.
Behind me, I heard a familiar whine—somebody else trying the wards. Anybody who came into TJ’s place had to fight the wards. Most people could get inside, but it wasn’t just as easy as opening a door and walking through. The wards would have their way with you and it wasn’t a fun way, either.
The wards resisted for a moment and then yielded, spitting somebody out onto the floor.
For a second, my heart stuttered. Dark haired—cat—
No. We don’t think about him. Not ever.
But it wasn’t him. This werecat was tall enough, but too leanly built. Too elegant.
Dressed too nice for Wolf Haven and that had my instincts humming. As he started for the bar, I turned my attention back to TJ, still keeping half of my attention tuned on the newcomer. He didn’t belong in Wolf Haven.
Didn’t belong here at all. That right there had me wary. People didn’t come to Wolf Haven just for the ambience. Either they came because they wanted to hide, or they came because they had no place left to go…or they came because they were looking for something. Somebody.
And automatically, even though it did me no good, I flexed my wrist.
“So what did Sexy Sexy what?” TJ asked.
“You realize he has a name, right?” I asked, although I didn’t know why I bothered. If TJ had decided she was going to call him Sexy Sexy, then Justin might as well add that to his Banner ID. “Look, he’s just aggravating me. I pissed him off. He pissed me off. End of story.”
“What’s he want?” TJ asked.
“Shit. What is this, twenty questions?” I glared at her and then looked at the werecat sitting at the bar, regarding us with unreadable eyes. “What do you want?”
“Redcat whiskey. Neat.”
I sighed and got it for him. High-end stuff like that never used to be served here, but over the past month, more and more weres were showing up asking for it.
TJ believed in supply and demand.
I dumped it in front of him as TJ said, “He ain’t wrong, you know.”
“TJ. Drop it.”
“This isn’t your place, anymore.”
“TJ…” I picked up the bottle of Redcat and turned to face her. “If you don’t drop it, I’m dropping this.”
Her eyes narrowed on my face. “That shit costs a thousand a case. If you drop it, I’ll beat it out of your ass.”
Somewhere out in the bar, somebody growled. Swinging my head, I glared out over the bar and tried to figure out where it had come from. The wolf still sitting at the bar? The cat? What the hell—
Both of them seemed fixated on their drinks and it had seemed too faint to have come from so close.
Brushing it aside, I switched my attention back to TJ. “You are so full of shit, it’s amazing you don’t reek of it. You won’t touch me and you know it. Now are you dropping the discussion or am I dropping more than a hundred bucks worth of booze?” I waggled the bottle in the air and held her gaze. She might be bluffing, but I wasn’t. Maybe it made me childish, but I’d decided a little bit of regression felt good. I hadn’t felt good in a long while.
“You can’t hide forever, Kitty.” She blew out a sigh and then shrugged. “You know that.”
“I don’t plan to.” I put the Redcat back on the shelf and washed my hands. “I’ll die sooner or later. That’s good enough for me.”
The hair isn’t right, but here’s a good idea of how I see Justin…
Now… tomorrow…. GO HERE AND VOTE… and if you all get me thru to the next bracket…I’ll post MORE from BROKEN BLADE. This was 600 words. Get me through, and I’ll post 1200. And there’s also some dirty sex coming tomorrow…from Damon’s POV.
Image via wikipedia. Creative Commons.
