Shiloh Walker's Blog, page 98

Blind Destiny … another peek

Have you entered to win a feather From an Angel’s Wing?  It’s the contest to celebrate the release of Blind Destiny…

“What in the world are you wearing on the back of your jacket?” Luc asked, peering through Krell’s eyes and trying to make sense of the odd-looking little man.

Sina craned her head around, as though trying to see her back. Then she laughed abruptly. “Oh, that’s Grumpy. He’s my favorite.”

Grumpy…? Luc frowned. Well, the man did look rather cranky and if Luc looked that way, he’d be rather cranky as well, but that still didn’t explain why Sina was wearing it…wait.

Something trickled through his memory and he managed to snag it, pull it to the front. Seven little men— “You’re wearing one of the seven dwarves,” he said slowly. “On the back of your jacket.”

“Yes, what of it?”

Through Krell’s eyes, he studied her and abruptly, he had the answer. He couldn’t see the colors of her face clearly…dogs weren’t truly color blind, but they didn’t see colors quite as clearly as mortals did. So he couldn’t see if she had lips as red as blood. She was pale, though. And her hair was dark, but was it black as pitch?

“Tell me,” he said. “Do you have lips as red as blood or was that poetic license on your part?”

Sina smiled at him, and while those lips may or may not be as red as blood, they were rather full and Luc felt the punch of lust hit him low in the belly. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but it was unwelcome. Shielding his mind, his thoughts, his everything against her, he continued to wait as she sauntered toward him. “Well, Luc…you can see me; can’t you tell?”

There was a challenging look on her face.

Almost anybody who knew Sina would understand that look.

It was a look that said, Don’t ask…forget whatever you think you know.

“You sit in here and watch Snow White and the Seven Dwarves,” Luc murmured. “You wear one of those silly little cartoon characters on the back of your jacket. So many of us try to distance ourselves from those silly stories you fabricated. But you seem to embrace it.”

“Do I?”

Sina continued to watch him. He was no longer able to see her face now. Krell was sitting at his side, giving him the disconcerting view of staring upward at her chin…and over the enticing swell of her breasts, the flat plane of her belly, long legs…

Breaking the connection with Krell, Luc placed himself once more back into the darkness, he said, “Tell me, Snow White, were you chased by a woodsman? Threatened by a wicked stepmother?”

Sina laughed. Then she turned away. He felt the passage of air against him, the slight lessening of her presence.

“Trust me, Luc…I was the threat during my mortal years. It wasn’t some foolish, yet noble woodsman, it wasn’t a selfish or vain stepmother. I was the villain of my story.”

Something brushed against his mind and then he felt a whisper deep inside. And if you do not believe that…simply take a peek inside my memories…and see it for yourself.

She didn’t wait for him to look.

She showed him just a glimpse…only long enough for him to see the blood dripping from her fingers. Only long enough for him to hear the screams as they bounced off arched walls of stone.

Then she pulled her mind from his.

Luc staggered. Krell pressed his solid, sturdy body against his leg and Luc reached down, steadied himself against the big dog’s weight. Sina had left.

Sucking in a breath of air, he fought to clear that image from his mind.

But he couldn’t.

It was there, etched upon the surface of his mind.

Because Sina had wanted it there. She hadn’t wanted him to forget.

Will, what have you gotten me into?

 

Chapter Three

He stirred.

The darkness. The blackness. It was still there.

That did not concern him.

There was evil, though…and that drew him. Cloying and thick, an old, familiar stink, something he had sought time and again. But he had yet to succeed at finding it.

As he pulled himself back into the world, he searched for it. Scowled when he found it. Nothing had changed. He still couldn’t reach it.

Even as he was ready to retreat, though, he stilled.

Something new. Something different.

Something…other…calling to him.

 

 

“What have you gotten us into?”

Natasha Curry ignored the men and women behind her as she shoved her hood back and studied the towering monstrosity of a house.

She was here, damn it.

Here, at the home her ancestors had once owned. It was derelict now, in danger of being torn down because nobody would stay there. People would buy it, thinking to renovate it. Then they’d leave. Sometimes in the dead of night, leaving their belongings and everything behind.

Eight years ago, one group had bought it thinking to set up a boutique hotel that catered to those who liked spooks and haunts. Even they hadn’t stayed.

Walls that bled.

An old woman wailing.

Screaming.

Mocking laughter.

Cold spots.

Hot spots.

Whispers of death and despair.

Maniacal laughter.

Even the locals avoided this place.

Getting here had taken just about every penny she had and she’d all but lied through her teeth, promising she knew how to fix things.

Well, she didn’t know how. She just had a way of doing it. Fixing things. With unsettled places, as her mom had called it. And this already felt like the most unsettled place ever.

It would have to stay that way for a little while, because first they needed proof.

She needed proof. Proof of the stories here. Proof of the secrets.

One story, one secret in particular.

For years she’d felt drawn here, ever since she’d uncovered that album in her mom’s room, all the clippings about this place, and the stories her mom had told.

She was going to find what it was that had haunted her ancestor, an aunt many generations back, but somebody who sounded like she had maybe been a little…off. Like Natasha was. She felt a weird kinship with the old woman, something she couldn’t quite explain and that was why she was here.

To find out about her aunt Despoina. What happened to her, why she died, why a pall had fallen on her family ever since, why this house seemed to be cursed…

There was a low, eerie sound, like leaves skittering along the grass, but there was no wind. Something seemed to brush against her skin and she could almost swear something touched her.

Behind her, the crew muttered and grumbled. Two were excited. Two were pissed. Ah, yes. All was well in her world. This was how they worked. They had an Internet show, Monsters: Real or Imagined, and if this went well, maybe, just maybe, that Internet show could become the real deal. Nat had dreams of Discovery Channel. Or bigger.

It would take something monumental, though, to get noticed there.

Something huge.

And there was something huge in front of her.

The sprawling, old house looked somewhat out of place, surrounded by quaint little shops, cafes, B&Bs…it was a bygone thing, but plenty of the places here were old.

It wasn’t the age that set it apart.

It was the aura of despair.

Just looking at the house made her blood sing. Actually, it was almost a scream—terror was just barely kept in check and part of her wanted to run. But that was a good thing. She knew it was. It meant there was something here.

It had taken all of her savings, some begging, some borrowing, and some pleading to get the team to come here. But in the end, the excitement of it had won out.

A haunted house. On the island of Crete.

One where a lot of freaky shit had happened.

There were whispers…it was cursed, it was haunted…

Nat had grown up hearing the stories about this place.

About the seven bloody sisters who had driven one of her ancestors insane.

“So…we’re staying there.”

She glanced back and smiled at Max. “Yeah. For a few nights. I only got the permit for three nights.” Then she wiggled her eyebrows at him. “If anything happens, we might be able to get it extended, but we can’t go in for a few more days. I’m supposed to get the ball moving on that tomorrow. Relax, you’ll like the B&B we’re staying at. It’s supposed to be haunted too. But I think that’s just crap. We’ll have fun tearing that story apart.”

They’d done it before and more than a few people had tried to sue them, but it never worked. If you faked a ghost, you were just setting yourself up for it.

But some of it was real.

Was this one of them?

Her gut said YES…practically screamed it.

“Hey, Nat, are we going to go? Or just stand here for forever?” Jake said from behind, nudging her with his shoulder.

She scowled at him before moving forward to curl her hands around the wrought iron fence post, staring across the distance that separated her from the house. So close, damn it.

So close, after all this time. She could feel it screaming at her.

So much had happened here. In the past thirty years alone.

A couple had bought it and spent their life savings to refurbish it, turn it into an inn. The first night it opened, a young married couple had left, irate about an old woman had appeared at their door, whispering to them about the seven bloody sisters.

The next night, a second couple had fled screaming into the night. They had said there was blood in their room. On the windows and spilling all over the floor. Of course, the innkeepers had seen nothing.

The inn had closed within three months.

It had functioned as a home for unwed mothers for a time. But that hadn’t succeeded any better than the inn.

All the complaints were the same.

An old woman.

Blood.

And sometimes, people would whisper that there were screams. And sobbing…sobbing that sounded like it came from a young woman.

Some seriously spooky shit.

This wasn’t just orbs floating through the night.

It wasn’t just disembodied voices.

This was some seriously fucked-up shit.

And Nat wasn’t leaving until she had some of it captured on video. After she had that done, she’d see what she could do about the unrest she could feel burning in the air, but first…proof. Proof, vindication…

A voice buzzed in the back of her mind and she scowled, pressed the heel of her hand to her temple, turning away.

She needed some sleep. Turning back to the crew, she gave them a short nod. “Come on. Let’s head to the B&B. Maybe we can catch something scary happening there.”

Halfway down the narrow road, she glanced back. One last look at the place…just one. She’d been waiting for this her whole life, it seemed. She couldn’t believe the moment was finally here. Centuries…

She scowled, wondering where that odd thought had come from.

~*~

Enter the contest…

Read more about Blind Destiny… or you can just preorder it.

Amazon | BN | Samhain | iBookstore

(This won’t be out in print for a while…it’s not long enough so it has to be paired up.)

Blind Destiny

Have you entered to win a feather From an Angel’s Wing?  It’s the contest to celebrate the release of Blind Destiny…

Then…

“Look at that pasty white face…”

The girl ignored their vile  whispers as best as she could. She had known she would not receive a warm welcome in this life. She had not thought it would be this unwelcoming, perhaps, but she had not expected anything pleasant. That, at least, had been a blessing. It would have been a cruelty beyond measure to think she had been given into a marriage where she would be loved, valued, even treated with kindness, only to come to a place where she had known nothing butbrutality from the very first day.

Myrsina had known her life here would not be kind. But she had only herself to blame. Her father had wanted nothing so much as to be rid of her. It was all any of them had wanted.

He was well rid of her now, was he not? He was well rid of her and she was here, alone.

“See how she acts as though she cannot hear us, or see us? As though she thinks herself better than us.”

The malice in the woman’s voice was enough to send a shiver down Myrsina’s spine. The hatred that particular woman carried for her was…unimaginable. And Myrsina didn’t understand why. It wasn’t as though their shared husband had any love for her. He cared nothing for her. He cared nothing for any of them. All he wanted was to get them with child. To breed, then move on to the next. His rutting on them wasn’t particularly pleasant, but nor was it particularly painful. There were no sweet, tender moments that he shared between any of the wives.

A fact Myrsina knew all too well.

“I hear she speaks with devils. That she does unnatural things.”

Myrsina tensed as she went to leave the courtyard. Lifting her head, she stared across the gardens as the woman. Their gazes locked and the older woman smiled. It was a cold, ugly little smile, full of hatred and ugliness and contempt. And Myrsina realized the truth. That woman knew; somehow, she knew.

Myrsina eased the cloak she kept wrapped around her mind, lifted it as much as she dared and she chanced a quick look. Quick, she must be quick—one never knew what awful things lurked out there, waiting for a vulnerable soul. Myrsina had seen what happened when those vulnerable ones weren’t careful. She wouldn’t be one of them. She wouldn’t.

But all she saw when she glimpsed that woman’s mind was meanness. A vicious, ugly woman with a shallow, twisted bit of a heart. But still. Just a woman.

Why do you hate me so ?

Then she turned away. She would go about her life. And sooner or later, her husband’s other wives would forget their torment of her. It was how life worked, after all.

 

But she was wrong.

The taunting and jibes worsened, rather than lessened. Cruel words gave way to cruel jabs in the ribs. Myrsina would find herself stumbling on the stairs, and although she knew which of the women had pushed her, when all of them stood together and assured the husband nothing had happened, Myrsina had simply tripped…

Eventually, she kept her words to herself. Even when she was pushed hard enough that she broke her arm, she said nothing.

It became so awful that she rarely wanted to leave the comfort of the kitchen. There, she felt safe. A woman had taken pity on her and in her, Myrsina found something of a friend. It was as she was sipping from a cup of tea her sixth month into marriage that the woman asked her how she was faring.

“You’ve been sick in the morning, child. More and more.”

And Myrsina knew.

Chapter Two

 

Now…

“The seven bloody sisters are myth,” I told him, turning away and moving to the balcony. It faced out over the fountains and I focused on the play of the water as I reached down to cover my belly.

Many memories of my life have faded. Both my time as a Grimm, and my time as a mortal. I’d only been eighteen when I died—when I killed myself. But I remember that bright and shining moment when I realized I was carrying a child. And I remembered those awful, horrid days that followed when I lost the babe. The only one I’d ever carry.

I also remember the day when I was strong enough to strike back. I didn’t strike back as a mortal woman should have and that was my sin. The one I’d borne for all these years.

I could hear Luc moving behind me and I turned to watch him. Krell stood at his side, but the man didn’t touch the dog, and the dog didn’t touch the man. After a moment, the dog moved, nosing a bit here and there. Getting the lay of the land for his master, I knew. If I had felt like being nice, I suppose I could have offered to show them into the sitting area. The suite was enormous and the sitting area was through the doors to our right. But I didn’t feel like being nice. Besides, if I knew Luc, he’d rather find it for himself. And he could do that just fine on his own. Neither he nor Krell really needed my help.

And they proved it too. Moments later, Krell padded into the sitting room and Luc followed along behind him, his steps sure and steady. Nobody looking at the man would guess that he couldn’t see, that he hadn’t been able to see in more than six hundred years. I hadn’t known him while he had his sight. I’d met him a few years after his change, once it became apparent that his psychic skill was going to be rather…substantial. Then they turned him over to me.

I rather wish they hadn’t done that.

I rather wish I’d never met the man.

And I rather wish I’d never heard of the seven bloody sisters.

“We’re all myths, aren’t we?” Luc asked from behind me.

I glanced at him from over my shoulder. “Some more so than others.” Then I shrugged and went to wander around the room, seeking anything to occupy my mind. The seven bloody sisters. Why was he here asking about them? I could look; if I really wanted to see inside his mind, he couldn’t keep me out. It would damage him, though. That was what kept me out. I wouldn’t do that, not to him.

Other people, it may not matter—I couldn’t care less if I caused headaches…or worse. But I wouldn’t bring myself to harm him.

“So you’re telling me there is absolutely no truth to their existence, whoever the seven bloody sisters are supposed to be?”

I sighed. I could still hear that silly movie playing. And for some reason it bothered me now. Listening to that silly dialog, that overly high voice, followed by the comical voices of the dwarves, while he asked me about the horror that spawned an awful legend. “The seven bloody sisters—no truth to it? Luc, you should know that one person’s truth is another person’s story by now. But no, there is no truth to that tale. It’s simply the ramblings of an old mad woman. She thought she knew the truth, but her mind was so eaten up by insanity she couldn’t have told truth from fiction if her very life had depended on it.”

Although he couldn’t see me, he kept his face turned in my direction, and I could tell he was thinking through what I had told him. I hoped he would let it go at that. I should have known better.

Yes, he should know by now that one person’s truth was very often nothing more than a fairy tale. But he also knew how very adept I was at twisting words. After all, I was the one who’d created his story.

“Who was this old woman, then?”

I closed my eyes and sank down on the edge of the bed.

The old woman? She was another one of my sins.

I had many of them. But I couldn’t regret what I’d done to her. Not any more than I could regret what I had done to the wives.

It’s no wonder I’ve never found any real hint of happiness. I lack any true conscience, and a woman like me? I don’t deserve peace. I don’t deserve happiness.

“The old woman. She was a something of a mystic,” I murmured, forcing myself to open my eyes and stare outside. “And in the end, she doesn’t matter all that much to this tale, I can tell you that much. She came along more than a millennia after the so-called sisters had already died. The old woman, well, she could sense remnant energies and she was convinced that gave her something of power. She tried to seek out the books.”

I worried the hem of my T-shirt, thinking back to the night when I’d found her the first time. I could have killed her then and never had been bothered by her. Killed her and not felt any guilt. But I hadn’t. I couldn’t even explain why. But she’d been so close to that place; following her was something I simply hadn’t had in me.

I’d stopped her from getting her hands on one of the demon tomes and that had been enough for me. It shouldn’t have been. I should have ended her then.

Blowing out a breath, I rubbed my hands over my face and then looked at him. “She almost had one. I stopped her. If I had been wise, I would have chased her but I didn’t. Because she went to Greece, and that was one place I hated to go. But eventually, I had to follow her there. We always watched those who tried to get the books, you know. And since she’d tried once…”

“She would try again.”

“That was our fear.”

The books. Damnable things. Crafted by demons, beguiling to mortal eyes, the books would seem like one of those silly coffee table or novelty books now. Spells and incantations and shit. Yes, it would seem like nothing but harmless fun.

They were deadly. They’d been deadly when they were first crafted, of blood and skin and death and despair, and they were deadly now. I didn’t even know how many were still in existence. We’d destroyed dozens.

But there were more out there.

Sometimes a new one sprang up.

It took a particularly strong sort of demon to craft one and it was a blight we could all feel—a process that didn’t take minutes or hours, but weeks, months. If we could feel it, we could hunt it. Hopefully find it, stop it.

It didn’t always work that way.

The reason so many of them existed is because for a very long while, Will and I had been the only ones on watch. Hard to guard against all evil when there are only two of you.

Even now, centuries and centuries later, we were still doing the clean up.

“So she hunted the books.”

“Yes. With a lot of success, I fear.” I sighed, looked away from him to gaze out the windows at the dancing waters of the fountains. Usually it brought me peace. Joy. Now it just struck me as absurd waste. This entire waste, a useless extravagance. “Sometimes I wonder if I didn’t let her live because she was so adept at finding them. I destroyed three because of her. Anyway, she had enough power to hear things. Voices of those long gone. And she saw things, things long since past. And she could whisper to those we’d rather not mention.”

Now Luc’s attention sharpened, focused on me. “She could sense them.”

Them…not the dead. But the demons. He knew, without me saying anything.

“Yes. Every so often, she’d leave and try yet again to get to a book. And she’d be stopped—but sooner or later, I knew there was a risk she’d succeed. The third time, I almost didn’t get to her in time.” I slid him a look from the corner of my eyes. “So I stopped her—I made sure that canny mind of hers was nothing but rubbish by the time I was done. But her power…that lingered. She spent the rest of her years rambling about the energies she sensed. All the folklore from that place comes from her insane ramblings. The place where she tells of the seven bloody sisters—a tragedy happened there once, and she spun this convoluted tale about these women. She said they were sisters and she tells this terrible, heartbreaking story of their untimely death. It’s nothing but rubbish, Luc.”

“Apparently, it’s not. There are people at the place where the legend is supposedly from and they think the place is haunted.” He paused and made a face. “Mortals and their fascination with ghosts.”

I tensed. “What?”

“You heard me.” He pushed a hand through his hair and shrugged. “Will didn’t tell me much more than to seek you out and find out about the seven bloody sisters. That, and we’re to go to Greece. Some fools have a mind to make a documentary and we’re to stop them. I don’t know if there’s any of the demonic involved or not, but he was clear on one thing—we don’t want that documentary made.”

“A documentary?” I stared at him for a long moment and then I turned away, looking outside. Just then, I’d like to shatter the bloody glass and take a flying leap. Except it wouldn’t kill me. It would hurt like hell, it would be all very dramatic and while Will was picking the glass out of my skin, he’d lecture me for doing something so foolish.

My legs went boneless as I thought it all through. A documentary. They were going to make a documentary. About that place.

Where I died. Where I’d lived. Where I’d killed the wives.

And where I’d become.

Fuck.

As my legs gave out from under me, I dropped to the floor and continued to stare outside. This was really happening. I had to go back to Greece.

“Sina.”

“Yes?” I asked distantly. I could handle this. I knew I could. I just had to get my mind in the right place. Separate what I had done, who I had been, the child I’d lost, all of that from who I was now. All well and good.

“I would assume, though, judging by what I’m sensing in the air, you know more than you’ve told me. Just what do you know?”

Mortals and their fascination with ghosts. Filming a documentary. There?

Drawing my knees to my chest, I rested my chin on them. “I know that the woman was a lunatic. Beyond that?” Shrugging, I closed my eyes. Perhaps we’d get there and the place would gone. Nothing but a hole in the earth. Stranger things had happened, after all. I was living proof. I’d stabbed myself in the belly and instead of rotting in hell, I was still here.

“Greece,” I whispered. “I assume I’m to go to Greece with you.”

“Yes. And we have to go to wherever this legend was born. You need to tell me more about it, Sina. There’s more to it than what you’ve said.”

As he came around and settled down at my side, unerringly sitting so that he was just a few breaths away, I gazed at him. So perfect. So patient. So not for me. I hated that. Why couldn’t he be for me?

“Sina.”

“Yes?”

“What aren’t you telling me?”

“Hmmm.” Shifting my gaze away from him, I focused my attention back on the glass. “Oh, I’ve told you everything I can about how the legend came to be. The old woman was born in 1749, died in 1829. I damaged her mind 1804 and she had a quarter of a century to spin tales about whatever she thought she knew. That’s about it for the legend, Luc. Truly. There were no sisters there, Luc. Just an old madwoman.”

He didn’t believe me.

I didn’t care.

There hadn’t been seven bloody sisters.

There had been wives. Eight of them. Seven of them had been terribly cruel, while one of them had been terribly mad.

I had to go back there.

Back to hell.

Back to the place where I had died.

To the place where I’d been reborn.

Back to the place where I’d killed seven women. Where they’d tormented me. Tortured me. Where they’d killed my unborn child…and nearly me.

I supposed there were a few other things I might be less inclined to do. Telling Luc how I felt about him, perhaps. That, and going back to my mortal life—miserable, unhappy years that they had been.

Other than that, I couldn’t think of anything that appealed to me less.

~*~

Wanna read about the inspiration behind Myrsina’s ‘myth’?  It’s The Myrtle, one of a bunch of ‘Snow White’ type tales.

Enter the contest…

Read more about Blind Destiny… or you can just preorder it.

Amazon | BN | Samhain | iBookstore

(This won’t be out in print for a while…it’s not long enough so it has to be paired up.)

Saturday Snippets…WRECKED

Best Friends… and oh, do I have a book for this one…

 

 

This is from Wrecked (previously titled Wreck This Life)

“We should stop.”  Her body shrieked out at the very idea of it.  So did just about every other part of her.  Hell, even her mind wasn’t getting onboard with the idea of stopping.  She closed her eyes.  “Shouldn’t we?”

He rubbed his cheek against her skin.  “Is that what you want?”

No.  Terror locked the word in her throat.  Yes, she’d been the one to kiss him and yes, she wanted more, so much more.  Lately, the things she seemed to want from Zach terrified her.  But he was her best friend.  There was nobody she loved more than him, nobody who meant more.  He was…everything.

What if she lost that?

The weight of his head left her breast and she opened her eyes to find him watching her, that measuring, steady gaze.  “Abs…” He stroked a hand along her cheek, cupped her face in his palm.

Licking her lips, she nudged him back. “Let me up a minute,” she whispered.

Something flashed through his eyes.  It might have been disappointment, she thought.   But she was afraid to think about it too long.

As he eased away, she shifted away from him and climbed off the bed to pace.  “I’d like say something like this is crazy.  Except I kissed you so it’s not like this came out of nowhere,” she muttered, shoving her hair back from her face.

“Are you trying to tell me you wish you hadn’t kissed me?”

She shot him a look and then wished she hadn’t.

Wow.

How in the hell hadn’t she noticed this before…

He sat with his back pressed against her headboard.  The walls of her bedroom were pale green and the headboard was white.  The boards were reclaimed wood and the overall feel of her room was a shabby chic look, feminine without being too fussy.  Zach should have looked incredibly out of place on her bed, with his beat-up jeans, the black T-shirt.  But he didn’t.

He looked like he belonged there.  In her room.  With her.

With that faint smile on his face, that intimate, watchful look in his eyes.  The vivid color of his tattoos wound around his arms and she found herself wanting to pull his shirt off and learn the detail of those tattoos in ways she’d never done before.

He was too beautiful for words.

Logically, she knew that.  She’d appreciated the sheer beauty of him before.  But knowing it and having it hit her like were two very different things.  Her belly, all hot and tight, twisted with need as she stood there staring at him and it took her a few more seconds to remember that he’d asked her something. A question.  Oh, yeah.

“No,” she said.  She didn’t regret kissing him at all.  “I just…” She shook her head and shifted her gaze to somewhere other than him.

“Why did you kiss me?”

Due out in April

Other authors doing the snippet thing…

Rhian Cahill

Jody Wallace

Leah Braemel

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Taige Crenshaw

Shelli Stevens

HelenKay Dimon

Lauren Dane

TJ Michaels

So… that time I went a little crazy? Here’s what I did…

I took things… I stole secrets…

So many things.  So many secrets.

Want to know what?  Here’s an idea…

Mr. Real from Carolyn Crane
Magic for a Price from Devon Monk
Rocky Mountain Heat & Rocky Mountain Haven from Vivian Arend
Lord’s Fall from Thea Harrison
Rogue Rider from Larissa Ione

 

I’m not telling about the secrets, though. You’ll have to follow on the blog tour to find out. The contest is now open…tour begins in a few weeks.

Go here to find out more!

Time for Teasing and Taunting…#blinddestiny

Have you entered to win a feather From an Angel’s Wing?  It’s the contest to celebrate the release of Blind Destiny…

Prologue

The woman stood alone in a courtyard of blood.

The bodies that surrounded her looked more like meat than anything else.

The man watching her from the shadows had lived through enough slaughters to recognize the one before him now.

These people had been alive not that long ago. If he had only arrived sooner, he could have helped. It made no sense. Why was he here now?

Perhaps whoever had killed them would come back for the lone survivor.

She stood there, drenched in blood, her head bowed.

Frowning, he eased closer, uncaring of the blood and gore. Some would fear it would stain the pristine white garments he wore, but the clothes never stained. Never showed signs of wear or weather. The wonder of that no longer puzzled him, nor did he consider it a wonder. Just another observation in his long, wretched existence.

He stepped in a puddle of blood and not even a drop trailed behind him as he continued forward, his steps soundless on the earth.

He no longer completely moved in this world.

A fact he had yet to fully accept. A fact he’d never completely understand.

Who are you? He eyed her closely, almost willing her to lift her head, to take notice of him.

Who are you…who am I? Why am I here?

And that, if he were honest, was the question that bothered him the most.

Oh, he had a vague idea. He was here because something had led him here, to this isolated home, perched on a lovely mountainside. From a distance, it had been rather imposing, a sign of wealth and power.

Death and hell had waited within. Not too long ago, he never would have been able to sense the evils that had taken place inside here.

But not that long ago, he had been a dead man himself.

Not that long ago, he never would have seen what was about to happen.

It was a knowledge he hated, the way he saw it unfolding in his mind. As though he had split into two people, the part of him that still clung to his mortal coil was terrified and desperate to flee from this hell place. The other part watched was what to come—the way the woman went to her knees, her fingers sliding through the thick, red mess that was blood and earth.

Then both sides of his brain reconnected.

His mind did not understand what she held at first.

But then he saw the glint of the blade, and he knew.

He went to move—

No.

He could even hear the scream forming in his mind.

That was not the answer. No other knew that better than he.

But he could not move.

He physically could not move.

She has to take this step.

He shook his head, denying the voice that whispered to him from within.

Yes. Because once she does, once she is almost past hope, you can reach her. Then, you will offer her the choice.

As she plunged the blade into her chest, finally, he could scream. Their screams mingled as one and as the inexplicable bonds controlling him loosened, he rushed to her side.

He slid an arm beneath her and even as he touched her, he felt it. The buzz of something…more. He did not know how to describe what it was, but he knew it was powerful.

And as her gaze held his, he saw everything…

Everything she was, everything she had ever done.

And she looked into his eyes and saw everything he was. Everything he had ever done.

“No…”

They whispered it as one.

 

Chapter One

There were very few people in the world that Will could say truly knew him. And only one of them could he call friend.

That one person was Sina, and she was almost as old as he was. Just a few short years separated them. A few decades, maybe a century. He had no way of knowing. Those first years had been lost to insanity and he barely remembered them.

They were almost a matched set, he supposed. Ancient creatures, not all right in the head, not then. Not now.

For the longest time, it had just been them, struggling to adapt to what they were meant to do, what they had become.

What would come later, as more and more of them were made.

They’d fought together often in those early days. Bled together. Came as close to dying as they were likely to, as long as they insisted on holding on.

Not that he had much choice.

Too much to atone for.

But Sina could let go. She wouldn’t, though. She’d be here until the bloody end. He knew this, because he knew her.

And she knew him, even without benefit of her oh-so-canny abilities of the mind.

Thankfully, she couldn’t read his mind. Not anymore. She’d been able to, that one time, when she hovered at death’s door and he’d been stunned at what she’d done, what she was.

She’d seen enough, that one night. But that was the only time she’d ever read him deeply.

It didn’t matter. Sina didn’t have to read him.

She knew him.

And that was even worse.

She’d know what was coming if he approached her.

Will was no fool.

So instead of going to her, he decided to approach the matter in a more roundabout fashion. Sometimes the straightforward approach just wasn’t the best way to handle things.

Especially with creatures who were older than dirt and reacted very poorly to change.

 

 

The night smelled of rain.

Honeysuckle.

And wet dog.

Luc laughed as Krell flopped down next to him with a happy sigh after he’d shaken the water out of his fur. “You just can’t stay out of the lake, can you?”

Krell nudged his thigh.

Obligingly, Luc scratched the dog behind his ears. “If you wanted to get wet, all you had to do was wait a little while. It’s getting ready to storm.”

Those words had no sooner left his mouth than it happened, tension gathering in the air. It wrapped around him tighter and tighter while next to him, Krell whined, inching closer. The dog had been around too long not to know what that meant.

Luc sighed. The bad part with not being able to see—he had long since acclimated himself to relying on his other senses, honing it to a fine skill. He could sense Will’s arrival a good two minutes before others could. It had nothing to do with psychic skill and everything to do with the way the feel of the world changed.

Tighter. Hotter. And somehow…brighter. Even though Luc’s world had been wrapped in darkness for hundreds of years.

In the seconds before Will made his appearance, the tension lessened, almost like the calm before the storm. Then it swelled to a crescendo and Luc’s ears popped as Will’s portal appeared.

Not that Luc was watching—he could have. Krell wasn’t just there for companionship. In all the centuries since Luc had become a Grimm, a guardian angel, he’d developed an ability to connect with others and use their eyes. Usually, he limited it to a specific partner, or to his companion animal, but he could use the eyes of anyone he saw fit.

He just chose not to.

Just as he chose not to look at Will. He didn’t need to see the bastard. Actually, he’d rather not talk to him, either.

Will rarely came bearing good news. Curling his hand into the thick fur of Krell’s neck, Luc murmured, “Perhaps you and I should have gone into town tonight, gotten rip-roaring drunk.”

“You can’t get drunk,” Will said.

No, that was true. Pity, that. Something he missed from his mortal years.

The Grimm all looked human enough. Even their fearless leader Will, with his pure white hair and silver eyes—granted, Will looked like a freaky human, but still, human was human.

They had all been human at some point in their lives. They’d chosen to become what they were—taking the step to become a Grimm, fighting against the demons that slid through the veil separating the mortal world from the netherplains.

That change was a drastic one, though. Altering them until the human appearance was just that—an appearance. A wound that would kill a mortal, they could heal in minutes or hours. They could go days, weeks without rest if they had to. And those were just the physical changes.

All of them were reborn into this life with gifts.

One of Luc’s was the ability to connect with others to use their sight.

His other gift—peering into the minds of others—was normally rather reliable.

Of course, he normally didn’t try to peer inside Will’s impenetrable mind.

It was like trying to peer at anything with his sightless eyes…he saw nothing.

“Yet you still can’t help but try to look, can you?” Will asked.

Luc shrugged. “Habit.” Stroking a hand down Krell’s back, he said, “If I hadn’t had that gift to rely on for the past few centuries, it wouldn’t be second nature.”

“True.” There was a pause and Luc could hear the other man coming closer.

As Will sat down beside him, Luc muttered a quiet oath. So the boss wasn’t there for a quick chat. Fuck it all.

Will laughed quietly. “You’re still mad at me.”

“Oh, it’s not so much that I’m angry. I just don’t like you, Will.” The hand stroking Krell curled into a fist. He was angry, though. Not just over the loss of Perci. That was a pride thing just as much as anything else. He was angry at Will, angry at himself, angry with Perci even, for how long they’d let each other suffer.

“If you would but be honest with yourself, you would realize she has been lost to you for a very long time,” Will said quietly.

“Oh, I know that.” He sighed. “Knowing it in here…” He touched a hand to his temple, then laid it against his heart. “Doesn’t make it any easier to accept in here.”

“Truer words,” Will mused. “Does it make it any easier for you to know that she is happy? Happier than she has been for a very long time?”

Luc closed his eyes. “It makes it easier. Yet it hurts like a son of a bitch. I couldn’t help her, and I’m arrogant enough for that to sting. But I love her enough to want her happy, no matter what the cost.”

For the next few moments, no words were spoken. It had been more than six months since Perci had left. Six months. But it had been hundreds of years since he had lost her. They had been married once, long ago. Back in their mortal life. They had come through the change from mortal to Grimm together, but they hadn’t been together as man and wife since their mortal years. The wounds they’d received, the murder of their children, Luc’s torture at the hands of his stepmother, Perci’s abuse—it had left scars that went too deep.

Luc had accepted those losses, and he might have been willing to let go, but the woman he’d loved, he couldn’t help her, and she couldn’t move on. She’d carried those hurts so deeply.

She was happy now, though. With another man. A new Grimm, and a man Luc would like to hate.

It was a bitch that he just couldn’t.

“So what brings you to my humble abode, old man?” he asked Will after the silence had stretched on just a little too long.

“I’ve a job for you.”

“Well, I figured you hadn’t come out just to have a beer.” Luc rose to his feet. “But if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go have one.”

“Haven’t we already established the fact that you can’t get drunk?”

“I’m not drinking to get drunk—I just like the taste of it. And you can talk while we walk,” Luc pointed out. He snapped his fingers for Krell to join him and reached down, resting a hand on the dog’s head, seamlessly connecting their minds and looking around.

Sure enough, clouds had rolled in. He could feel the wind slapping against him and it had a cold bite to it. Maybe he’d lay a fire at the chalet. A fire, while he had that beer, and listened to whatever insane job Will had laid out for him.

 

 

“Greece?” Luc repeated nearly thirty minutes later.

“Yes.” Will studied the bottle Luc had given him with a mistrustful eye before lifting it and taking a taste. He immediately put it back down. He’d tried rancid wine in his mortal life that had tasted better than that, he was pretty sure. “There’s a house located in a small village in Greece… Kalo Horio. Some of them think it’s haunted. It’s not terribly old, built back in the 1700s. They’ve got a legend they’ve built around it…the seven bloody sisters.”

Luc turned that around in his mind and then shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“That’s because they invented it.” Rising from the stool, he headed toward the refrigerator and opened it, studying the contents. Junk, he decided. Beer, soft drinks, chocolate milk. For food, there was chocolate, pizza, chips, buffalo wings, hot dogs, bologna. Heaven help him. “Luc, you have the appetite of an adolescent.”

“Yes. And what’s wonderful is the fact that I’ll never gain a pound, I never have to worry about an unsightly complexion, nor do I have to worry about hardening of the arteries, cholesterol, any of those unpleasantries.” He finished off his beer and, without even pausing to aim, tossed it into the recycling bin.

Will blinked. “That’s rather amazing. How do you do that without seeing it?”

“I’ve lived hundreds of years without sight. I’ve picked up a few tricks.” He shrugged. “What does this legend, this house, have to do with us? Are demons causing the hauntings?”

“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. For now, you’ll have to go see Sina. She’s to work with you on this.”

Luc had been in the middle of getting himself another beer. Now he paused. In the middle of the floor, he turned to face Will. An odd look—one that Will had never seen—crossed his face. He almost looked lost, Will thought.

“Sina,” Luc murmured. “You want me to work with Sina.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Will shrugged. “She’s just the one I know you need to work with. I don’t know why. I do know she’s familiar with the area. Perhaps that is why. You can find her in Las Vegas, I think. She loves that insane city, for some reason.”

 

 

“Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it’s off to work we go…”

I watched, amused as all get out as the little men paraded across the screen. Really, it was the most ridiculous piece of work I’ve ever seen, both now, and the other hundred-and-sixty-three times I’ve watched it.

Yes, I’ve really watched Snow White and the Seven Dwarves one-hundred-and-sixty-three times. I love the movie. It’s absurd. I love it for its absurdity. It’s my own fault, I suppose. I’d helped concoct the earliest version’s tale.

I bet you didn’t know that, did you?

My own story is a little more grim than this, but that’s typical for those like us.

There was a knock at the door. I opened my mind to see who it was—just a fraction, of course, because one could never be too careful. I couldn’t penetrate the mind and that made me frown. There weren’t many I couldn’t read. If I couldn’t read them, that meant they were either like me…psychically gifted, not necessarily a Grimm, or one of the few people with just a natural resistance to psychic probes.

It could be Will, I supposed. Even those of us who are psychic aren’t usually strong enough to block me. Will was one, but it wasn’t like him to knock. He just blew his way in, almost like the big bad wolf. Of course, that’s not who he is. That’s a different story entirely.

If it wasn’t Will, who…?

A face flashed through my mind, followed by a rush of heat. Of need. The skin along the back of my neck prickled in warning but I brushed it off.

No reason for him to be here, now was there?

Mentally chastising myself, I silenced the TV and slid off the bed. Whoever it was, the person had the patience of a saint. There was no second knock. Just silence, but he—yes, it was a man, I knew—continued to wait.

Again, that shiver ran down my spine.

Halfway between my bedroom and the hotel door, I called out, “Who is it?”

“It’s Luc.”

A punch of longing rolled through me like waves crashing against the beach. Luc.

Picture your typical fairy tale prince. Eyes of a perfect blue, a chiseled, handsome face with a cleft in his chin, arched black brows and hair that framed a face so perfect even Michelangelo couldn’t have hoped to reproduce it. A long, lean warrior’s body, a smile that could have made angels weep.

Hell, I knew that for a fact, because he has made me weep. And I am angel, even if I am somewhat imperfect.

That was Luc.

He was even a prince. And there were fairy tales written about him. I’d helped write them. But I hadn’t done him justice. Couldn’t do that, now could I? If I’d penned the tale the way I wanted to, some of our brothers and sisters in arms might see things I’d rather them not see.

They’d realize things I’d rather they not know.

I don’t think anybody knew, not even Will. A benefit of being of the old ones, since I was nearly as old as he was. He’d respect it if I told him to stay the hell out of my mind, and I could back that up with walls so solid he couldn’t penetrate them.

So unless he was given some of that uncanny knowledge, our fearless leader would never know how I felt about Luc.

Luc.

Luc. A man I dreamed about, a man I longed for. A man who was in love with his own fairy tale princess…and she wasn’t me.

Luc. The last man on earth I wanted to see. Ever.

Composing myself, I detoured by the bathroom. I’d been munching popcorn while I enjoyed the movie. I wasn’t about to greet him with buttery crumbs clinging to my fingers. While there, I checked my face. Yes, I’m vain. Smoothing my hair back into a ponytail, I glanced down at my clothes and sighed.

Not that I’d let myself primp to meet Luc or anything. The black yoga pants and T-shirt would suffice.

Primping served no good use, anyway. This man would never be mine.

He’d never have his lady’s heart, and I’d never have his. Those were facts I’d long ago accepted.

Enough stalling. With one deep breath, I left the bathroom and made for the door.

I opened it and leaned against the doorjamb, brow cocked. This wasn’t a friendly call, I already knew that.

But I couldn’t see his mind as easily as I could others—he was too well trained for that. I’d been the one to train him.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have done such a good job. A peek inside his mind would have let me prepare myself. And I could have used the advantage.

I never saw this coming…

“What do you know about the seven bloody sisters?”

~*~

Enter the contest…

Read more about Blind Destiny… or you can just preorder it.

Amazon | BN | Samhain | iBookstore (BN link not live yet)

(This won’t be out in print for a while…it’s not long enough so it has to be paired up.)

We have a b-day to celebrate

And we celebrate with…

Candles from Morgue files.

Avengers pic from IMDB 

Roadtrip

So the monster’s b-day is coming up. We decided we’d go to Nashville for the day and take him out to eat.

One thing I do on just about any road trip is hit bookstores and sign stock. I hit the Booksamillion in Madison, TN.

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Source: web.stagram.com via shiloh on Pinterest

~*~

When we got to Nashville, one thing I wanted to see was this…

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Source: web.stagram.com via shiloh on Pinterest

~*~

This is place is so very cool…the replica of the Parthenon. There’s a small art museum inside it, which was neat, but what I really wanted to see was Athena.

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Source: instagram.com via shiloh on Pinterest

~*~

The older two kids, especially, liked this…they loved the Percy Jackson books and the movie so this was really cool for them.

The inside of her shield is really awesome.

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Source: web.stagram.com via shiloh on Pinterest

~*~

After that, we headed over to Opry Mills Mall and ate at the Aquarium Restaurant. This place is cool, but it’s murderously expensive so it’s like a once-in-a-while birthday sort of treat. I tell myself it’s also educational so that makes it okay every now and then. O.O

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Source: web.stagram.com via shiloh on Pinterest

~*~

Then I swung by the Barnes and Noble in Hendersonville, TN. Great staff there…*G* Heather reads my books. That was very cool.

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Source: web.stagram.com via shiloh on Pinterest

 

~*~

So that was my weekend…how was yours?

Just a reminder…there’s a contest going on for the next GRIMM book…have you entered? It’s easy…

 

Saturday Snippets

Okay, this is from my current WIP, a new RS series…coming out sometime in the future (don’t ask when, not sure…not sure at all) from St. Martins.

It’s a small town romantic suspense, sorta like the Ash trilogy in tone.

 

Bit by bit, she pulled away from him.

Noah saw it happening and although he couldn’t say he was surprised, it did bother him.  He wished he could get her to trust him.  He’d hoped that what this was.  But she hadn’t laid herself bare because she trusted him.  She’d done it because she wanted to push him away.

Keeping him at a distance seemed to most crucial thing for her.

Too bad, because the more time that passed, the more determined he was to do anything but keep at a distance.

Once dinner was done, they headed back up Main Street.  A cool breeze kicked up off the river and the feel of it made him smile.  “Fall might come yet,” he murmured, reaching down and catching her hand in his.  When she didn’t pull away, he told himself that was something.  Not much.  But something.

“Fall?”  She smiled faintly.  “Did you forget it like devil weather outside today?  Almost a hundred.”

“Heat index put it close to a hundred.  And now it’s in the low eighties.  A sign of fall.”  He shrugged.  “We’ll get weather like that in October sometimes.  Push up into the nineties and drop down in the sixties overnight.  Drives me crazy.  But at least it’s cooling off.”

“Hmmm.  So.”  She pursed her lips.  “Lovely weather we’re having.”

He chuckled.  “And now we’re talking about the weather.  Wonderful date chat, huh?”

Rhian Cahill

Anne Rainey

Mari Carr

McKenna Jeffries

Myla Jackson

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

Lauren Dane

Cover…

Thud…

It’s so pretty…(not sure of release date yet, sometime next year.  One of my FBI psychics.)

From an Angel’s Wing

To celebrate the latest release in the Grimm’s Circle series, I’m giving away an engraved pendant from Cadsawan.  **Please note…the above image is not the final.  The final pendant has Grimm’s Circle engraved on the back side.  The image above features both the front and back side (flat side) of the pendant.

Ways to win…

Please use the widget…it collects all entries.  If you don’t use it, you’re not entered.
Leave a comment on this page
Post the above button on your blog (you can use the code below)
Post the cover for BLIND DESTINY to your blog
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Add Blind Destiny to your Goodreads shelves (link)
If you are a reviewer who has reviewed it, that gets you a free entry (requirements for this are noted in the rafflecopter entry-please do not leave questions re:this in comments.  I do not personally handle review requests.)

More about the book…

Heigh ho, heigh ho, it’s back to hell she goes…

Grimm’s Circle, Book 7

Myrsina knows the stories. As one of the oldest of the Grimm, she had a hand in writing most of them, but only she knows the dark origin of the Seven Bloody Sisters. It springs from the place of her birth—and her death. A place of pain and misery to which she plans to never return. Unless forced.

When Luc appears on her doorstep, her heart twists with suppressed longing for the man who can never be hers. The only man who can make her do the impossible—go home.

Luc may be blind, but through their unique, bittersweet connection, even he can see that the task laid before them is ripping Sina’s soul apart. This time it isn’t as simple as fighting a demon that has escaped from the netherplains.

Sina must go back in time—to that cursed ground—and right a wrong that she unknowingly brought about. To write a new ending to a story that may give them both a chance at happily ever after. Assuming they survive.

 

Excerpt…

As he was stripping out of his clothes, Luc wondered if maybe Will was right.

As much as he hated to consider that idea—it was a matter of principle, really—he had to consider it, because either he was losing his mind, or he’d felt something very, very much like his own hunger just a few minutes ago.

The problem wasn’t her hunger, though.

And he knew it.

Broodingly, he made his way over to the shower, swearing when he accidentally bumped into the wall. If he’d been here a few more days, it wouldn’t have happened. Or maybe it would have. Buildings weren’t like living creatures and they didn’t give off the vibes he used to paint a mental picture, but he could acclimate after a few days and rarely bumped into anything anymore.

Just another thing to sour his already black mood, although it was nothing compared to what really had him troubled.

And it wasn’t even Sina.

She had him pissed, she had him horny, and if he was around her too long, he suspected she’d leave him hurting.

The bigger problem was what was going on out there in the village, a problem he couldn’t untangle.

Need to clear my mind, he thought as he turned on the shower, adjusting the spray until it came down in a hot, pulsating blast. This was another one of the pleasures of modern life. Showers. Hot, long showers. He loved them. Plain and simple, loved them.

If the water would hold out, he could just stand in there long enough to clear his mind.

That would be ideal.

Blanking his mind, he braced his hands on the tile wall and dipped his head, letting the water pound on his neck and back, groaning in pleasure.

Need to—

A tingle danced along his flesh. Buzzed through his mind.

Familiar.

Slowly, he lifted his head.

Water dripped off his cheeks, nose and chin, but he didn’t move as he tried to remember the placement, everything in the bathroom. The hotel was worn and rundown, but clean. Nicer than he’d expected, really, considering how the outside had looked.

Somebody had done some updates on recently and they tried to cater to younger couples.

There were mirrors all over the fucking bathroom.

Mirrors.

And as he stood there, the tingling on his flesh grew more intense and in the very back of his mind, he felt a warmth.

Sina used mirrors. The way he used Krell’s eyes, although her ability wasn’t anywhere as keen as his. Whether it was the inanimate object, whether it was because she didn’t practice as much as he did, or what.

Watching me, Snow White?

The idea might have unsettled him at some other time.

But just then, he was feeling just a little mean. Shoving away from the wall, he eased back, bracing himself against the tile. As the water continued to pour down around him, he rested a hand down his belly…

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