Shiloh Walker

Let me tell you a story…

Shiloh Walker - Let me tell you a story…

Twenty Eight Days to RT…and Counting.

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I refuse to believe that’s how much time we have.  I also refuse to look at a calendar, for fear that number is right.

Are you going to RT?  If you’ve never been, there are some things you need to know.

You don’t get a lot of sleep.  You walk a lot.  Cons are notorious for making people sick.  Food is often a) forgotten b) expensive c) both.

In the spirit of things, I decided to do an RT Survival post.  We see a lot of these this time of year.

I decided to do my own.  Cuz I’m lazy and this is easy and I got books to write.

So my suggestions, in no particular order:

  1. Comfy shoes…remember, you’ll walk a lot.  If you can do cute & comfy, go for it.  I’m more for being comfortable, though.
  2. hand sanitizer…that little kind you can throw in your bag.  If you’re flying, you might want to just buy some and throw them into a ziploc bag to keep in your suitcase, but trust me, you want hand sanitizer.  You will shake hands, you touch things, you will pick things up and as much as it pains me to say this, people don’t always wash their hands. You might be in a bathroom where the soap has run out.  You want hand sanitizer.
  3. Motrin…you’re going to be a place packed with lots of people and many are excited and talking loud, plus you’ll be on your feet a lot, often with little sleep and running on caffeine and often little food.  Mortin or Tylenol or your preferred method of alleviating pain is a wise choice.  Also, if you’re up late and drinking?  Yep.
  4. Water bottle…handy to keep in your convention bag. Keep it full and drink, so you don’t get dehydrated.  That also helps fight the creeping crud.  If you are gonna be up late and drinking? Keep hydrated with water throughout helps avoid hangovers. ;)
  5. Speaking of drinking…if you’re out and about…watch your drink.  While absolutely in a perfect world, you should be safe to go out with friends, have a few drinks and have fun, it’s not a perfect world. You can find tips on staying safe in social situations at RAINN.org
  6. Leave room in your suitcase…yeah, yeah, I know most of us are going to try and pack as much as we can so we aren’t lugging a bunch around, but if you’ve never been to RT, then you might not know about the swag.  There are totes a plenty given away.  Books. Pens. Bookmarks. Etc.  You’ll need room somewhere for that stuff.
  7. snacks…I mentioned that we don’t always have time to eat, right? Plus food isn’t always the cheapest thing to come by.  Taking some of those meal bars, trail mix, etc can cut down on how many meals you have to buy.  You can also find friends that you can maybe go together in on ordering pizza and that sort of thing.
  8. Emergen-C…if you can take it, it can help booster your immune system so you can avoid the creeping crud.  Cons & conferences are notorious for this…people are in closed areas and the fact is, we rush around, we don’t eat enough, we don’t rest enough and other factors contribute to that lovely thing we call the creeping crud.  Emergen-C can help.

Tips offered via twitter!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winner… DEEPER THAN NEED

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We have a winner

a Rafflecopter giveaway

If you didn’t win but still wanna read it, it will be out in less than two months. :)

Deeper Than Need

**Note…excerpt is from my editing copy-may contain typos

Rattling.  Metal rattling and clinking.  Courtesy dictated that she leave and she looked around once more for Noah, but he wasn’t in there.

“Come on, Micah…”

He slipped free of her hand and darted forward.

“Micah Dean Ewing,” she snapped, starting forward.  As she brushed by the desk, her purse bumped against a stack of folders and she swore, catching them as they started to topple over.

She righted them just as Micah opened the door to the back of the office. That rattling and clinking got louder.

She also heard a sound she hadn’t heard earlier…grunting.

Micah’s eyes popped wide, rounding in his young face as a grin crooked his lips.  “Wow…” he mouthed, lifting a hand to point.

“Micah,” she whispered, reaching to pull him away.  But as she did, she couldn’t help but look.

Wow, indeed.

Damn her lack of control anyway.

The rattling and clinking came from a chain…one that was connected to a punching bag and that punching bag was being pummeled, very proficiently, it seemed, by Noah.  Noah, who had stripped down to a pair of running shorts and now he wore just the shorts and a pair of boxing gloves.

Sweat gleamed along his black, arms, and shoulders.  Muscles flexed under smooth skin and that fine sheen of sweat just served to draw the eye even more.  She wanted to drop everything she was doing and just cross the floor, rest her hands on his arms, stroke them down and then lean in, kiss the sculpted muscle…

Trinity stood there staring and the familiar burn of hunger punched through her, vicious and power, turning her blood to fire and her knees to water.  Oh.  Oh, my… I like.  I like so very much

Son of a bitch, this was getting out of control.  If it was anybody else, she’d probably just bite the bullet and ask him out, see what happened.

But how did you go about telling a preacher that you were dying of lust?  She was going to burn in hell for this. There had to be some sort of law or commandment or something against lusting over preachers, right?  She was certain of it.

He was just so very, very pretty to look at…

Swallowing, she tried to tear her eyes but after a few failed attempts, she decided, What the hell. I’m already on the path to damnation anyway.  I might as well have a nice memory to take with me…Memories they way muscles rippled and flexed.  She’d wondered how he’d look under those faded T-shirts, the worn jeans. And oh, man…he shifted a little and she caught sight of his chest.  He had chest hair.  A light dusting of it, just enough to feel so good. Trinity felt her fixation teeter on the edge of obsession, ready to topple over.  How would it feel to curl her fingers in the light scattering of it, to have it rubbing over her breasts as he moved over her—

“Noah! That is awesome!”

Blood rushed to her face and she cut those thoughts off, humiliated. She looked down at the towheaded, devious little angel standing next to her.  How could somebody who looked so sweet be so good at embarrassing her?

The clinking stopped.

Breathing shallowly, she lifted her gaze and found herself staring into the dark, deep blue of Noah Benningfield’s eyes.  Normally, she avoided looking into his eyes for very long—they were too penetrating and she had the most disturbing image that he could see straight through her, see all the shadows she was trying to put behind her, the regrets and doubts, the anger.  Everything.  She felt stripped bare around him and it didn’t help that he’d been there holding her as she felt apart.

But if she didn’t look in his eyes, she was going to look at other body parts. That chest, heavily layered with muscle and that tempting line of hair, his flat belly, the way his shorts rode low on his hipbones and the gleam of sweat on his skin.

She wanted to go over and lean it, press her lips to his chest and licked away one of those beads that was rolling down his pectorals.

Lust, the low, insistent tug of it, clenched in her belly and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning.  Heat flooded her face and she looked down, busied herself with the strap of her purse as she waited for the worst of it to pass.  Too many years had passed since she’d actually wanted a man.  Why did she have to find this one so damned attractive?

“Hi there,” he said, his breaths coming a little heavy.

Reflexively, she looked up just in time to see him flash a smile at her. It was an absent sort of smile, and then he shifted his attention to Micah.  “You out running wild on the town there, kid?”

“Mom wants your job.”

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Secrets & Shadows Book 1 

One week… and counting…Break for Me

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Have you met Dean?

 

Image via Hello Beautiful

Flat out…Dean was inspired by that picture. I need a sleek-looking, sexy smart man and the minute I saw this guy, I knew I’d found who I was looking for.

Wanna read a bit about him?

“It’s okay, Jensen. I get it.  You and me, we’re not going there.  So I’ll . . .” He blew out a breath.  “I’ll just stop.”

The words ripped out of her.  “Stop what?”

He didn’t answer.  Long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Woodford Reserve he had next to him and he rose.  “I hope you can get some rest this weekend.  Find some peace.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

He paused halfway up the steps. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about you.  But I haven’t made much of an attempt to hide the fact that I’m interested.  I can do better, so I will.  You don’t want to see it, so I’ll keep it to myself.  Sooner or later, it will fade.”

Will it?

She stared at the strong line of his back as he crossed the porch, her heart slamming away in her chest.

A knot formed in her throat.

This . . . this intensity she felt every time she looked at him.  That could fade?

It was the most real thing she’d felt since . . .

She didn’t even realize she was moving until he’d turned to look at her.

Then she was doing the very thing she’d dreamed about.

His skin was warm against hers, the light stubble scraping against her palms.  Because that light touch wasn’t enough, she kept one palm on his face and then drove the other hand into his hair, tangled it in his dreads.  The texture was coarse against her hand and she shuddered at the thought of feeling him, all of him.

“I don’t want it to fade,” she whispered as she rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

Read all about Dean & Jensen next week, and the third book about the Bells is due out in May.

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Insta-love and building bridges

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The bridge at sleepy hollow

 

H/T to Pearl for giving me a blog topic today!  I sometimes run out of steam when it’s near/around release time because…well, nerves. ;)  FYI, just a reminder, though, there are only a few hours to enter for the ARC of DEEPER THAN NEED.

This is more of a writer/storytelling/craft ramble.

On twitter a little while ago, Pearl asked…

She then went on to tweet that she’s married to a guy that she had that ‘instant’ love thing with…she met him and yeah, she knew right away he was the one. They’ve been together for 13 years, married for ten.

I can relate to that.  While I can’t claim insta-love, I can claim an insta-something.  Ya see, I took one look at my guy and there was just something there.   He was friends with my big brother and I crushed on him, and hard, for close to four years and then I finally blurted out one day… Hey, how come you never come over here to see me… annnnndddd… twenty three years later, we’re still together.  But I don’t claim insta-love, because I met him for the first time when I was 11.  ;) Insta-crush.  Love developed over time.

There was an immediate connection, yes, but if he’d been rude, a jerk, dismissive…or acted the way half my older brother’s friends did (aka…they acted like my brothers), I wouldn’t have felt that draw, I don’t think.  But he was…nice.  Kind.  Sort of shy, at times, but he had a great smile and he didn’t have that attitude a lot of the guys in  my neck of the woods had.  It wasn’t the best of neighborhoods and  the ‘tough guy’ shit doesn’t impress me.

So the foundation for a real connection…love…grew from that first tug.

Leah joined in with:

Using insta-love to establish a connection is absolutely fine…I do it all the time.  It’s a great hook and can make for some fun romances.  You take that instant…Oh, wow…heart-racing, adrenaline rush, what the hell is this feeling and then you build on it.

But you have to build on it.

I think this is where a writer can make or break the ‘insta-love’ …or love at first sight sort of story.

I kind of liken it to a bridge.

Or building one, and the writer is the one doing the building.  That first punch of what the hell with the heart racing and blood pounding, even a burst of arousal that you’ve never felt before…you take and lay it down.  That’s a log over a creek.  Maybe you can walk over it once, or twice.  But it’s not going to hold there for long.  Especially if you live in an area where it rains a lot.  One heavy spring thunderstorm… (aka…the first fight)…and that bridge is gone.

So from there, you take that log and you build on it.  You need supports.  You need to show the reader the love.  The deeper connection.  You can’t tell the reader that the love is there–it’s that whole tell vs. show thing and in stories like insta-love, it’s vital.

Why does the hero/heroine love their partner?  One look doesn’t a love-match make.  You can feel a tug and that tug can very well be that first log–the building of that connection, but from there…what is going on?

What if the guy…or girl…is an asshole?  This doesn’t translate to saying that hero/heroine can’t be the love interest, but if the brooder is the love interest, the reader needs to understand the love connection there, and it’s got to be more than he’s so tortured and I just know my love can change him.  For one…that’s telling.

 

Insta-love shouldn’t, really, be any different than any other means of establishing attraction.  You’ve got things like the meet-cute, or the friends to lovers, or enemies to lovers…etc, etc.

Maybe the problem is that too many take the love at first sight trope, and then turn it into a short cut.  There’s love, there’s sex, then BAM, automatic HEA…

That’s lazy-storytelling. There is no shortcut if you want to have a good story.

 

Take that first subtle tug of attraction, when you know s/he/both feel something…(From my book If You Hear Her)

“You’re asking me on a date?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see the bartender listening and not pretending not to. The kid barely looked old enough to be out of college—hell, high school.

Tuning the kid out of his mind, he focused on Lena.

“Yeah, I’m asking you on a date. At least, I’m trying to. It’s been awhile since I’ve asked a woman on a date, so maybe I’m doing it wrong.”

“Well, it’s been awhile since a guy asked me on a date, so maybe I’ve just forgotten how to recognize the clues.” That pretty, wide mouth curled up in a slow smile.

She had to say yes. Because he really, really wanted to kiss that mouth. He wanted to fist his hand in that dark red hair and he wanted to press his face between the slight swell of her breasts and nuzzle the soft skin there.

He was a pretty good judge of people—he knew how to read them. Under most circumstances, at least, and he didn’t think he was reading her wrong.

If he was reading her right, then she was feeling that same, subtle tug that he felt. Banking on that, he reached out and skimmed his fingers down her forearm. “Well, now that we’ve figured out what we’re doing here, maybe we should try it again. I’d like to have dinner…with you. Would you be interested?”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had a guy ask me out on a date within five minutes of seeing me.” The smile on her face took on a bitter slant as she absently touched the dark glasses that shielded her eyes. “Usually, within five minutes of seeing me, they are either on the other side of the room or they are trying to cut my food for me.”

Ezra glanced at the lasagna on his plate. “I figure if you can make it, you can cut it just fine on your own. And you haven’t answered me.”

“No. I haven’t. I’m still thinking…hell. Screw it. You know what, Ezra? I’d love to have dinner with you.”

And then you build on it…

Give it supports…

Every time I turn around, he thought…Hell. Maybe this was some sort of sign. He started toward her table, but halfway there, he realized she wasn’t alone.

No, she was sitting at a table with two other people.

A woman, about her age, Ezra figured. She was a looker, too, blond, blue-eyed and tanned. Her blond hair was worn short and sleek. Her eyes rested on his for a few seconds in female appraisal.

Ezra looked at the guy, recognizing him from the other day. He’d been with Lena at the sheriff’s office. Judging by the look in his eye, the man had more than just a casual interest in her.

He glanced at Ezra and then leaned forward, murmured to Lena. Ezra didn’t catch a word, but Lena straightened and turned in his direction as he drew even with the table.

“Morning, Lena.”

“Ezra.”

A slow smile curled that pretty mouth. She cocked her head. She shifted in her seat, crossed one slender, jeanclad leg over the other. “We’re about done, but you’re welcome to join us. We’re just talking and drinking coffee. Avoiding the rain.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw the look in her friend’s eye.

“There’s plenty of rain to avoid. Are you sure you don’t mind?” he asked.

“Of course not. After all, isn’t that what friends do?” she asked.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought her smile was just a tad bit mocking.

He managed not to wince. Friends—shit, that was the last thing he wanted…well, no. Not really. He did want to be friends with her. He just wanted more than that. A lot more.

Wanted, but couldn’t. Needed, even. Hell, he couldn’t quit thinking about her and he had to.

And then build some more…

“I can’t get you out of my head, Lena. You’re everywhere.” He cupped her face in his hands, angling her head back. “Can’t stop thinking about you, not from the first time I saw you.”

 

Lena’s sex life had been…limited. The last guy she’d been serious with had been Remy—sex with him had been fun, hot, and easy. They had been compatible in bed, but it hadn’t compared to this.

She and Ezra weren’t compatible.

They were damned near combustible.

It went deeper than the heat, though.

He made her laugh.

He made her smile.

Hell, he just made her happy.

 

“You’ve got that smile on your face again,” he murmured. “Like Sylvester the cat just got a hold of Tweety Bird, once and for all.”

“Do I?” She smirked and sat up, stroking a hand down his chest.

“Yeah. Kind of makes me wonder what you’re thinking about.”

“Nothing…exactly. Just this.” She shrugged, absently circling a finger around his navel.

He jumped and caught her hand. “Quit that.”

A grin tugged at her lips. “Quit what?” Unable to resist, she wiggled around until she was sitting up and raked the nails of her other hand down his side. When he flinched and caught that wrist as well, she started to chuckle. “You’re ticklish.”

She wiggled her hand free and poked him in the side again and he swore, catching her.

She tried to roll away and they ended up wrestling across the bed, laughing and swearing—although most of the swearing came from Ezra every time she managed to get free long enough to poke him in the ribs, under his arms. Even a light touch across his spine was enough.

“Whoever would have thought the big, tough cop would be that ticklish?” she teased as he rolled and pinned her beneath him.

“Brat,” he muttered, stretching her arms over her head and holding her wrists in one hand.

Biting the tip of her tongue, she twined a leg around and managed to stroke her big toe down his instep. He swore again and used his knee to press her thighs apart, pinning her hips against the bed. “Would you quit it!”

That ‘love at first sight’ thing is a lot more believable when people see that while that instant connection was there, they weren’t just blindly riding on it–they were building on it.

“You’ve known me for five weeks, Ezra. Five weeks. And you admitted it yourself not that long ago…you just came through a really, really bad experience,” she said quietly, cupping his face in her hands. “How can you think you love me?”

He laid a hand on her heart. “I think I started to fall in love with you that first night. You blushed when I called you beautiful…and then you shared your food with me. You got so nervous when I asked you for a date and I was scared as hell you would say no.” Smoothing his hand up, he rested it on her neck, used his thumb to angle her chin up. “I started to fall for you that night, Lena. I guess it’s why I backed away…maybe I didn’t think I could handle it.”

“And what makes you think you can handle it now?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can’t. But then again if I wait until I can handle things, then I never would do anything,” he murmured, rubbing his lips against hers. “Things happen when they happen, not when you’re ready for them.”

Of course…this is just my take on it.

But when I’m reading a ‘love at first sight’ book and I end up tossing it aside because it’s falling into that ‘insta-love’ thing where it’s all…’oh, i love you i love you i love you…’ but the writer fails to paint me a good, cohesive picture of that love…there is no bridge, in other words…this usually why.

 

FYI, the pic is mine.  I took it at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery a few years ago…that’s the Headless Horseman’s Bridge.

Bloggers/Reviewers interested in reviewing Deeper than Need?

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Particularly if you are up on Netgalley…

Deeper Than Need

Time heals all wounds

Eager to put a dark, troubled past behind her, Trinity Ewing buys an old house that will make the perfect refuge for her and her young son once renovations are complete. The last thing on her mind is finding someone new…but the contractor she’s hired is an irresistible distraction—and Trinity can’t help but fantasize about all the business they could be doing behind closed doors.

So does one man’s touch

Noah Benningfield thought he’d put his demons behind him. But the moment he lays eyes on Trinity, the temptation he feels is too powerful to deny. Soon the attraction between them explodes into something neither of them could have imagined. But their desire will be put to the test when a shocking local murder has them dodging danger at every turn. Can the beautiful and damaged Trinity trust someone like Noah, whose own past is as haunted as her own? The only thing she knows for sure is that she can’t live without a man who makes her feel this good—over and over again…

 

Noah couldn’t help it.  While she was still laughing at him, he closed his mouth over hers.  The need that had tormented him for so long threatened to drive him insane and all he wanted was to lose himself in her.

Spreading his hand out over the small of her back, he fisted the other in the golden silk of her hair as her laughter faded away and her mouth opened for him.

There was hunger here…and need.

It would be easy, he realized.

Too easy to get lost in her. In the sweetness of her kiss, the warm strength of her body.

She was lean and limber against him, all those curves pressed tight to his.  He had to fight the urge to let his hands roam over all her, to learn every single inch, to learn her by touch, by sight, by taste. His cock pulsed against her belly and she kept moving against him.  He had an overwhelming need to pin her against the nearest flat surface and just rock against her until he exploded.

Her chest moved in ragged, uneasy bursts against his own.  The soft, sweet curve of her breasts pressed against him as she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck. The tight, hard points of her nipples scrapped against him and he thought he was going to go out of his mind.  A whole new sort of temptation—one he hadn’t had to deal with before.  Not like this. Never like this, because he was pretty certain he hadn’t everwanted like this…

All because of a kiss.

Her tongue moved against his, stroking along the curve of his lip before venturing into his mouth and Noah felt the muscles in his legs start to tremble. On a ragged breath, he tore away from her and pressed his brow to hers.

“So.  Again…I think I’ve made my case pretty clear.  A date isn’t a bad idea.  Does tomorrow at eight work for you?”

 

The publisher made it available on Netgalley, although an invite is required.  If you’re interested, please email me at shilohwalker2011 at gmail.com.  Please include a link to your blog.  If you are a bookseller or librarian, feel free to request one, but please mention the library or the bookstore where you work. 

Please note…I have no control over acceptance/denial of reviews.

Coaches & Books

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Sooo…. I’m doing this. It’s coming soon. For Break For Me & Long For Me.

photo

 

The prize:

  • Coach purse (Worth $100 ~ Coach Outlet rocks)
  • 3 signed books from my backlist
  • $20 GC to Amazon or BN
  • Signed cover flat for Sweeter than Sin (Adam has tattoos…)

I was recently told this:

 

I loved Dean (Break For Me)… he was fun to write.

Here… read some more.

 

“I got words I need to say to you, but I’m not sure where to start.”

“Don’t.”  Staring out at the dark street, she thought back to how often she had to hear the very words he probably felt he had to say.  “I’ve heard them all before, Dean.  They change nothing, you know.  I’m raw right now, but the wounds are old.  You didn’t know.  It’s cool.”

“No.” He shook his head and said, “It’s not cool.  Maybe these are old wounds, but I was taking digs at you over a personal thing and that just makes it more of a problem for me.”

She slanted him a look and felt her heart freeze in her chest, for one long, long moment.

There was something she’d meant to say.  The words died, right there on the tip of her tongue as he took a deep, slow breath that seemed to shudder through him.

She felt it echo through her as well, her skin drawing tight while heat buffeted her.

No . . . no . . . no. Helplessly, she tried to gather up the strength to get up and walk away.  This was no good. She couldn’t do this—

“You got that look in your eyes,” he said, a faint smirk twisting his mouth.  He had the damnedest mouth.  She’d had dreams about that mouth.  Dreams about capturing his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his, feeling his body against hers as she learned how he felt, how he tasted.

Not good.  Not good at all.

“It would be easier, you know.”  He stared out over the street, that deep, rich voice of his level and smooth, rolling over her like liquid gold.  She felt something melt deep inside her and she had to bite back a groan.  “If I didn’t look at you and sometimes see the same damn thing I feel.  Because I know you feel it.  But you ignore it.  Ignore me.  That’s what pushed me.  I was a fucking asshole, and I know it.  That’s why it’s not cool.  So I’m sorry.”

Licking her lips, she nodded. Get up, she told herself.  Her legs didn’t want to cooperate and even once she managed to get vertical, her thighs were all trembling and weak. Swiping her palms down the outside of her jeans, she darted a quick look at him.  “Don’t . . .” The words tangled on her tongue as their gazes connected.  “Don’t let the thing about my mom get to you.  You didn’t know. It’s okay.”

“There you go,” he murmured, turning his head, dipping it down just a little.  The heavy fall of dreadlocks obscured his face and she had the insane urge to reach down, fist her hand in his hair so she could see him, see his face.  Proud, arched cheekbones, that fucking sexy mouth, and those intense eyes.

She had no business wanting him.  A want like this scared her.

Because it was so deep, so strong, she made herself take another step back.

Dean just nodded. “It’s okay, Jensen. I get it.  You and me, we’re not going there.  So I’ll . . .” He blew out a breath.  “I’ll just stop.”

The words ripped out of her.  “Stop what?”

He didn’t answer.  Long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle of Woodford Reserve he had next to him and he rose.  “I hope you can get some rest this weekend.  Find some peace.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

He paused halfway up the steps. “I can’t stop myself from thinking about you.  But I haven’t made much of an attempt to hide the fact that I’m interested.  I can do better, so I will.  You don’t want to see it, so I’ll keep it to myself.  Sooner or later, it will fade.”

Will it?

She stared at the strong line of his back as he crossed the porch, her heart slamming away in her chest.

A knot formed in her throat.

This . . . this intensity she felt every time she looked at him.  That could fade?

It was the most real thing she’d felt since . . .

She didn’t even realize she was moving until he’d turned to look at her.

Then she was doing the very thing she’d dreamed about.

His skin was warm against hers, the light stubble scraping against her palms.  Because that light touch wasn’t enough, she kept one palm on his face and then drove the other hand into his hair, tangled it in his dreads.  The texture was coarse against her hand and she shuddered at the thought of feeling him, all of him.

“I don’t want it to fade,” she whispered as she rose onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

Wanna read all of it?  It’s out soon…

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Check out the rest of the Secrets & Shadows series

Best laid plans

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I planned to do steaks on the grill last night.

But there was this…

IMAG1447_1Now there are several recipes that relate to Birds’ Nest…cookies, treats… some sort of birds’ nest soup…but I’m pretty sure none of those called for these ingredients, and I’m damn certain they aren’t needed for steak.

The good news is, the nest wasn’t quite done, I don’t think and there weren’t any eggs.  We took it out.  I’m not giving up my grill.

Also, I want to make it perfectly clear…somehow, this is Lynn Viehl’s fault.

I don’t know how she did it, but she found a way to pass her backyard animal shenanigans up here to Kentuckiana. I don’t want this weird/nest/birdhouse/hex thing.  If you aren’t sure of what I’m talking about…

Well, just look. (pics are from Lynn’s blog…click on them to see the related crazy. FYI, that dove? Really doesn’t do birdhouses.)

Crazy Birds

 

 

Then there was this…

This bird doesn’t know what a birdhouse is meant for.

Which led to this…

 

See

 

And we won’t even talk about this…

Crazy snake

Want an ARC of Deeper than Need?

Kindle

ARC contest

 

I have one ARC left, set aside for a blog contest and it’s time to give that ARC away.

Time heals all wounds

Eager to put a dark, troubled past behind her, Trinity Ewing buys an old house that will make the perfect refuge for her and her young son once renovations are complete. The last thing on her mind is finding someone new…but the contractor she’s hired is an irresistible distraction—and Trinity can’t help but fantasize about all the business they could be doing behind closed doors.

So does one man’s touch

Noah Benningfield thought he’d put his demons behind him. But the moment he lays eyes on Trinity, the temptation he feels is too powerful to deny. Soon the attraction between them explodes into something neither of them could have imagined. But their desire will be put to the test when a shocking local murder has them dodging danger at every turn. Can the beautiful and damaged Trinity trust someone like Noah, whose own past is as haunted as her own? The only thing she knows for sure is that she can’t live without a man who makes her feel this good—over and over again…

 

Noah couldn’t help it.  While she was still laughing at him, he closed his mouth over hers.  The need that had tormented him for so long threatened to drive him insane and all he wanted was to lose himself in her.

Spreading his hand out over the small of her back, he fisted the other in the golden silk of her hair as her laughter faded away and her mouth opened for him.

There was hunger here…and need.

It would be easy, he realized.

Too easy to get lost in her. In the sweetness of her kiss, the warm strength of her body.

She was lean and limber against him, all those curves pressed tight to his.  He had to fight the urge to let his hands roam over all her, to learn every single inch, to learn her by touch, by sight, by taste. His cock pulsed against her belly and she kept moving against him.  He had an overwhelming need to pin her against the nearest flat surface and just rock against her until he exploded.

Her chest moved in ragged, uneasy bursts against his own.  The soft, sweet curve of her breasts pressed against him as she leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck. The tight, hard points of her nipples scrapped against him and he thought he was going to go out of his mind.  A whole new sort of temptation—one he hadn’t had to deal with before.  Not like this. Never like this, because he was pretty certain he hadn’t ever wanted like this…

All because of a kiss.

Her tongue moved against his, stroking along the curve of his lip before venturing into his mouth and Noah felt the muscles in his legs start to tremble. On a ragged breath, he tore away from her and pressed his brow to hers.

“So.  Again…I think I’ve made my case pretty clear.  A date isn’t a bad idea.  Does tomorrow at eight work for you?”

 

Enter via the widget.  Open for the next week.  Winner’s name will be posted by the end of next week and you have to check back to see if you’ve won.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Our E-Reader Winner is…

Kindle

The winner of the ebook reader is…

secrets & shadows giveaway

Alexandra
thelu***lit*****@g****.***

She was bringing Adam & a chocolate fountain.  No, she wasn’t chosen because of the chocolate fountain, I promise.  Randomizer.org picked a random winner, I swear.  :)

Alexandra, you’ve got two weeks to get in touch or the prize is forfeited, as per my disclaimer.  :)

Thanks to all who entered…keep an eye out for the next contest.  I do believe it includes a Coach purse.