Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 92

Dear Instagram…it’s not me, it’s you

I deleted my account, and all 750+ pics.

Apparently Instagram is changing their TOS to where they can sell my pics, without paying me or notifying me or anything else.

So, all the pics are gone.

Might start using Flickr…also checking out something called streamzoo.  I love taking pics on my phone, so I want something.

I can understand their need to make $$, really. So…hey, ads in the app? Fine.  Make a pro version that is ad free and costs $$? Cool!  I’d buy it, especially if they added more features.

But selling my pics? Oh, hell, no.

If you have an instagram account, I think the new changes go into effect 1.16.2013.

Have you been reading the hot stuff for a while?

So over the past year, erotic romance and hotter romances have like…exploded.  I reckon we can thank 50 Shades of Grey for that-I’ve had sooooo many people who aren’t romance readers talking to me like… Wow!  have you read this… people actually write about this stuff…

Um.  Yeah.  People do.  LOL.

Those of us who have been reading hot romances for a while know there’s really nothing new in it.  We’ve been reading the hot stuff, loving the hot stuff for a long, long while.  Bring it on!  We loves it!

But it’s taking on a life of its own and more and more people people are looking at romance and the hotter books in a different light.

I’m working on a thing that I’m doing in the spring-it’s a workshop and I’ve asked some of these Qs on twitter, my facebook page, but wanted to toss them out here, too.

I dunno about you all, but I’ve been reading erotic romance for QUITE a while.  Since at least 2002, probably more like 2001 or earlier.

Some of the books that got me started were the Secrets anthologies by Red Sage… Angela Knight!!! Led me to Ellora’s Cave, which is how I got started…writing erotic romance.

So…for those of you like erotic romance and have been reading it a while, how did you get started?

Pretty please… this is for something very specific, and I *am* very specifically looking for pubs or authors from at least a few years ago…before 50 Shades. I know a lot of people love it, but I’m looking for how the genre has started, how it’s evolving and that’s kind of the current thing, but it definitely wasn’t the beginning.

Thank you for the feedback!

It’s a sad sort of weekend…

The news about what happened in Connecticut is probably riding hard on the minds of many this weekend.

I found myself logging into facebook last night and a lot of the ‘funny’ posts that normally have me giggling just had me sighing and I ended up logging back out without doing much more than a quick post on my page.

I can’t do much funny right now.

Friday, I had to fight now to sign my kids out of school, feed them nothing but cake and ice cream… I said on twitter if they’d asked for a pony, I would have bought it for them. I like to think I could have said No, but I just don’t know.  I called their sitter and told her to take the day off, picked them up from school at their regular time.  I got next to no work done… we made Christmas cookies.  We went ice skating.  We went out to eat.

My daughter was drawing this and I can only thank God I have her, have all my kids…even as I hurt for the parents who lost this.  There are no words.

Saturday morning, I took them out for breakfast, then we went shopping and I took them all to a local Christmas thing called Kalightoscope…

 

One of the things they had there was a ‘draw on the wall’ and somebody had written this…

How do you find peace or comfort? I didn’t lose a child, but I can’t find peace or comfort…I can’t imagine what they are going through. I’ve lost a child, but never like this. This is my worst nightmare.

So many are saying I don’t understand… how can somebody…

But we’re not supposed to understand this…are we?  This is a monstrosity that should never happen, and if we ever understand it, I think we’re that much closer to…apathy.  To it not hurting.  And that’s another tragedy.

We’re not supposed to understand.  It’s supposed to hurt…all of us.  Maybe it will hurt all of us enough that we can finally find a way to do something to prevent this can of mass attack on children from ever happening again.

That’s my Christmas wish…for now, forever.  And not just for Christmas, but for always.

I don’t want to ever see this again.

And God bless those kids…love and comfort to their families, to all who lost somebody on Friday.

Saturday Snippets…WINTER!

 

One person fired and I heard another screech. “Don’t fire! If you kill her, we’re all dead!”

Perfect.

It made it that much easier to get away.

The snow was a stinging blast against my skin as I hurtled across the courtyard and everything blurred by me.

From Night Blade…

Lissa Matthews

Rhian Cahill

Leah Braemel

Myla Jackson

Caris Roane

Jody Wallace

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

HelenKay Dimon

Delilah Devlin

Eliza Gayle

Lauren Dane

Felicity Heaton

Shelli Stevens

TJ Michaels

Winners & Flashbacks…

Winner of Lynn Viehl’s Giveaway…

Anne V who commented:

I love the Night Angel Trilogy by Brent Weeks. You also can’t go wrong with classic Tolkien Lord of the Rings. I’ve also always loved Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar books-almost any character is a 3 book series.

Anne has awesome taste.  I love the Valdemar books.  Anne, can you please email me at shilohwalker(at)gmail.com?  I’ll get you in touch with Lynn.

Now!  Friday Flashback!

A fairy tale… a dirty one, though.

 

The wood was chopped.

“One last favor, I beg of you, soldier, before you go. I’ve dropped my light—it is such a special light—into that dry well, and I am far too old to fetch it. You’ve been too ill until now to get it, but before you go—”

Aric stared at her, resigned. “Your word,” he said finally. He wouldn’t have dared to ask, if he wasn’t so desperate to flee this place. But he could not possibly stand another week here. And winter was coming quickly. If he didn’t leave soon, he may not be able to leave for months. “I want your word, and your bond and your blood seal that after I am out of that well I may have my leave of you, without tricks or strings or promises.”

Her faded eyes flashed with anger before she smiled ever so sweetly. “Of course,” she cooed, sounding like a sweet old grandmother.

Aric wasn’t fooled but he went to the well and sure enough, he saw the blue light. “I do not understand why it has not yet burned out,” he said, frowning a bit.

“It is a special light, not true flame. It never truly burns out,” the old woman said. “But it works only for me. Now, hurry and fetch it, soldier. Don’t you wish to go home?”

Aric flashed the witch a tiny smile and swung his leg over the lip of the well, using the rope and weak toe holds to work his way down. The ground below was boggy, and a bit damp, but the well was basically dry. His hand hovered over the blue light, which gave a cool sort of heat, but did not burn him so he scooped it up. “How am I to carry it?” he shouted up.

A tiny golden box was flung down to him and he put the light into it—the blue light dancing within the golden walls, spinning around with a mind its own. The longer he watched it, the more it looked like a flame, and the warmer it began to feel. “Come, come, we haven’t all day, now have we?” the witch cried out.

He grabbed the rope and started to climb, but it was far more difficult to go up than down—the toe holds worn, the walls slippery and treacherous. When he neared the top, she said, “Give me my blue light.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, he said, “Not until I am on the ground.”

“Give it to me,” she snarled, reaching for him.

Aric wrapped one wrist in the rope to secure himself and easily batted her hands away, laughing. “You healed me too well, old woman. You’ll not be getting it from me until I choose to give it to you. And I’ll give it to you when I am on firm ground again,” he told her, his pale green eyes glinting with amusement, his thick black braid falling back behind him.

She hissed and spit and raged, slashing at his face with her ragged nails. All that, Aric didn’t mind. But then her hands started to glow, with an eerie green light. So he did the sensible thing and released the rope, falling to the soft, soggy ground below. And when his head cleared, the rope was retreating up the wall and he was well and truly stuck in the fucking well.

“Well, shit,” he snapped, banging his head against the wall. His gut burned and twisted with anger. At the witch, for not being honest. At the King, for lacking honor. At himself, for being a fool and trusting others. And now he was going to die down in this bloody well—cold and wet.

Reaching into his pocket, he opened the little golden box. It was almost hot to the touch and the blue light was more flame now. Wondering, he prepared the last of his shai-tobacco and checked to see if the little flame was indeed fire. It was, and produced a terrible smoke.

But, ahhh, the warm, fragrant smoke filled his mouth and lungs, and Aric leaned his head back against the stone wall, and closed his eyes and drew the smoke in again, unaware more smoke was pooling and thickening all around him, then condensing and forming into a solid being. A very solid being.

read more…

Holiday Gifts in a Hurry…

I spent yesterday doing gift type things, mostly for the non-family people in my life.

Need some quickie ideas?

Chocolate is sometimes hit or miss.  If you’re a writer and looking to send chocolate or something to the editors/agents in your life, well, I know they get a lot of it.  Fortunately, I live in an area where there is a lot of…unique chocolate. BOURBON chocolates…and nobody does bourbon like Kentucky…

 

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Source: woodfordreserve.com via shiloh on Pinterest

 

 

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Another gift that shouldn’t be overlooked…the plain and simple necessities. I don’t know a writer or editor that isn’t always scrounging for a piece of paper. (I actually got this idea from PBW’s blog a few years ago… and it was a great one…)

Viola…personalized notecards. I’ve even used this gift (the chocolates too) to send out to an editor. She loved it. I also used the chocolates (different editor). Actually, both gifts went over really well. Hmmm. Anyway.

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Source: thestationerystudio.com via shiloh on Pinterest

 

 

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Really, if you’re here, you’ve got to love books. Hopefully, that means the people around you love books. And if not… they SHOULD! Make them! FORCE THEM!…BUY THEM THIS!

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Source: barnesandnoble.com via shiloh on Pinterest

 

 

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Not sold on any of these?  Or want to give something that’s just different?  Kiva… the micro-loan thing where you can give a $25 gift card and the recipient selects somebody to receive a micro-loan. And those micro-loans change lives.

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Source: kiva.org via shiloh on Pinterest

 

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The REUNITED… Blogger Call… ARCS!

I got some advance reviewer copies of The Reunited in!

And I need reviews. Some of these will be going to booksellers, but a few of them, I’ll send out. It all depends.

If you’d be interested in receiving a reviewer copy, please leave your blog URL below in comments. Please note: this isn’t a contest. By requesting an ARC, you’re agreeing to (barring unforeseen events) to get a review posted by the time the book releases in February. If you don’t blog or if you can’t get it reviewed, please do not request the ARC. There is a contest going on where no review is needed and you’re welcome and encouraged to enter that.

Also note, just because you request doesn’t mean you’ll get it…  :)  I’ve only got a few on hand. If I select your blog, I’ll be in touch.

Thank you!

Blurb:

AN ETERNAL DESIRE

With his strong psychic ability, FBI Agent Joss Crawford longs for the woman he loved in a past life. But after years of searching, a new case is drawing him into the last place he’d ever want to find her: an underground slave ring. Going undercover to infiltrate the network, he meets Drucella Chapman—the mastermind’s fiancée. Joss has every reason to believe she’s evil. So why is he irresistibly drawn to her?

A DANGEROUS GAME

Drucella has made it her personal mission to bring the slave ring down. But the sadistic ring leader is even more careful than he is cruel. In order to gain information, Dru has had to get close to the very man she wishes to kill, using her gift to read his memories bit by bit. She’d do anything to finish the job, but agreeing to marry him may have been a step too far—even for her.

A FATEFUL ENCOUNTER

Though Joss and Dru are both undercover, nothing can disguise the sense of déjà vu they experience when they meet. Neither can afford to be distracted from the mission at hand, but perhaps their reunion is exactly what this mission needs…

Read more

Night Blade Preview…

Want to read a chunk from Night Blade…?

This is a decent sized bit of it so I probably won’t be posting much between now and release day.  Enjoy.

Preview…

 

Loved this book

Be warned. It’s kinky as hell so if you don’t like the kinkier side of romance, steer clear. But it’s also a beautiful romance.

Abbie has done her best to escape her violent past. But in the process, she’s avoided love, life and desire. So when she sees her equally closed off neighbour, Ivan, performing for her one night through his window, she can’t stop looking…‘Deep Desires’ is an intense, sensual read perfect for anyone lusting after more than ‘Fifty Shades’.Voyeuristic pleasures become Abbie Gough’s lifeline. But as she comes alive and craves more, Ivan backs away. He has his own secrets, the kind that draw her into kinky games and her own shameful desires, while also preventing the bond of real intimacy between them.Now she’s found someone so special, she’s not about to give up easily. And she’s willing to do whatever it takes to melt Ivan’s dark and cool exterior. Even if captivating him means pushing through her limits to whatever lies beyond.

 

Saturday Snippets…from Night Blade

It’s author’s choice!  Here! I choose this!

“If I could tell you what it was doing to me, I would.”

His eyes searched mine. “Why can’t you?”

“If I tell anybody, Banner is going to know. And people die. I can’t do that, Damon. I can’t.” I can’t let you die—

He groaned and pressed his forehead to mine. “Inside now, baby girl. Inside, okay?”

His presence was a burning ache at my back and my breath came in hot, harsh little bursts as I made my way to the door. “Don’t forget the wards,” I whispered as I dealt with the locks.

He stood there waiting, his eyes on my bowed head as I went through the process of disarming the protections wrapped around my office. “Put them back up,” he said as he shut the door behind him and locked it.

I put the bag on the desk, carefully touched my hand to it, too aware of the precious burden it carried.

I licked my lips and then went to the door. It was a simple design to arm the wards. My touch alone, on the locks in a certain way, did it. As I flipped the deadbolt, magic skittered around the room. One ward in place. Damon’s fingers brushed across the back of my neck. I put the chain in place. Second ward. He laid his hands on my waist. I unlocked the lock he’d turned and then locked it back up and the wards burst into life with a whispering sigh.

Damon shredded my shirt.

Turning around, I reached for him and all those nasty, jagged places inside me faded away. This felt real to me. Felt whole. Felt right. And I was going to make sure I kept this.

read more…