Archive for the ‘Romance’ Category

Cross-posted from my personal blog

The Missing releases in mass market on July 6th…

Now it’s already out in trade, still available in a few places, although if you wait until it releases in paperback on 7/6/10, it would mean lots and lots to me.

I’m going to be posting some excerpts between now and the end of the month. If you haven’t read it yet, maybe you’ll decide to check it out when the book hits the shelves in July.

And…if you haven’t seen it, do you know about the contest?


As a teenager, Taige Branch was able to do things with her psychic gift that others couldn’t understand—except for Cullen Morgan, the boy her stole her heart. He did his best to accept her abilities, until his mother was brutally murdered—and he couldn’t forgive Taige for not preventing her death.


Now a widowed father, Cullen Morgan has never forgotten Taige. But what brings her back into his life is another tragic event. His beloved little girl has been kidnapped, and Taige is his only hope of finding her.

Working together against the clock, Cullen and Taige can’t help but wonder whether—if they find his daughter in time—it isn’t too late for the overpowering love that still burns between them…

“You’re going to have to let me in. You’re going to have to deal with me.”

Pushing her hair back from her face, she sneered. “I already have dealt with you, Cullen. There’s no damn reason for you to come down here. You said your thanks. Your daughter is safe. Go live your life, and let me live mine.”

“Life? That’s exactly why I’m counting the days until I come back for you, Taige. You are my life.”

He moved closer, close enough that if she leaned forward, their bodies would be touching. She held herself still, completely still, even though everything inside her yearned for him. It should have been so easy to reach out to him, so easy, but it wasn’t.

Staring into his clear blue green eyes, she held his gaze and then took a slow, deliberate step back. “I’m not your life, Cullen. I never was.”

A faint grin curled his lips upward, and he reached up, caught a wayward curl, and tucked it behind her ear. “I miss your braids,” he said softly. Then he skimmed a fi nger over the soft, delicate skin under her left eye. “The swelling’s gone.”

She gave him a sardonic smile. “Been a month. It ought to get better.”

Cullen shrugged restlessly. “A month? Yeah. I guess. Seems longer–and not. I see your face almost every time I close my eyes. And I see that bruise some bastard left on your face. Because of what you are, what you do. What I forced you into.”

Taige tugged against the arm he’d wrapped around her belly, but he wouldn’t let her go. “You didn’t force me into this, Cullen. It was my choice.”

“And what I said to you, what I accused you of, had nothing to do with that choice?” He rested his hands on her hips, stroking absently. He didn’t even seem to realize he was touching her, and that was just another little torture, because she was so damned aware of him, she could hardly follow the conversation.

“So what if it did?” Taige stiffened her body and tried again to pull away. This time, he let her go, and she got a good five feet between them before she turned to look at him. “You gave me a kick in the ass, a much-needed kick.”

“You didn’t need to be forced into a life where you’re constantly risking your neck, your safety–your sanity. You live in hell, doing what you do.”

Bitterly, Taige thought, I’ve lived in hell all my life. It’s pretty much about all I know.

But that wasn’t entirely true. The few years she’d had with him hadn’t been hell. Not until she failed him.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she turned to stare out at the rolling blue green waters of the Gulf. The water was rougher than usual today, and the waves crashed into the sand. Turning her head, Taige stared back over the beach where they had walked. Already, the waves had washed away their footprints. It was like they had never walked there. If only something could come and wipe away her memories that easily. Memories of Cullen, memories of the people she’d failed to save–including his mom.

“I’m not in hell, Cullen,” she said quietly. Granted, there were times when she would agree with him, times when she was certain she did indeed live in hell. But then there were times like when she had looked through the curtain in the hospital and seen Jillian’s sleeping face. She hadn’t dreamed of the girl once in the month since she had left Cullen in the hospital with his daughter.

Looking back at what she’d done with her life, she knew it was worth it. It would have been worth the heartbreak, the rage, and the tears if she saved even one life. Instead, she’d gotten to see dozens of kids safely home to their parents. Kids she had pulled out of their own hell. Whatever hell she had to live in, it was worth it for that.


Shiloh Walker


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Every once in a while, I think most writers probably get these ideas that are just plain fun.  Fun…as in, sitting down to write the book is like jumping on a roller coaster, a quick, wild ride that just never lets up.

GrimmCircleCandy Houses was one of those ideas.  Candy Houses…think dark, bloody fairy tales, set in modern times.  The heroine is like a dark-haired version of Buffy the Vampire Slayer-complete butt kicker.  Hero wears long, flowing sort of coat-the duster type and likes sharp shiny objects.  He’s been mooning after her for a hundred years.  She’s so scarred from her childhood, she copes by keeping people at a distance.  In comes a certain individual who takes steps to force these two together.  I had so much fun writing this one.  I’ve already got ideas spinning for at least three more, and I can’t wait.

But…. I’m a little nervous.  You see, this was my first stab at writing first person.  But it’s not in first person the whole way through.  I need the male’s POV, too.  So it alternates… the heroine’s POV is first person.  Hero’s POV is third.  I think I made the flow smooth enough, but I dunno.  I do hope people like it, because I just plain loved writing this story.

There’s an excerpt at my site, but here’s a different one… from Greta’s POV.

Candy Houses, the first book in the Grimm’s Circle series, comes out in ebook this October.


I was pretty sure I hadn’t felt this kind of terror in a long time.

I’m not really afraid of dying. Or at least, normally, I’m not. Remember that “hard to kill” thing I mentioned?

I am hard to kill, but a bocan is strong enough to tear my head from my shoulders, and they are fast. That doesn’t sound like a fun way to go.

They are killing machines. Big, dumb killing machines and I was facing this one totally unprepared. The knife I carried wasn’t long enough to kill the thing unless I was really, really lucky. I’m good, but with these things, being good with a knife isn’t enough.

A sword would be better.

A cannon would be better.

Warily, I backed away, circling around and trying to lead the bocan away from the girl. I didn’t know if she’d be able to see it when she woke up. It depended on how far she’d dipped her toes into the waters of evil and death. I could hope that when she saw it, if she saw it, it might scare her straight, but I’m not really big on hope right now.

Not the way the night was going.

And to think I’d been bored just a few hours ago.

“So how long have you been hanging around this plane?” I asked.

The bocan didn’t speak. Their race didn’t have vocal chords. Other than the sibilant sounds they made when they breathed, they were quiet. They moved quietly, they attacked quietly and they killed quietly. Big, dumb, ugly…and quiet. They ought to be loud—only seemed fair. Something like this breathing death down your neck, there should be some sort of warning.

It cocked its head. The dim light danced over the dull gold scales that covered it from head to toe. Those scales were like armor. It had been a while since I’d faced a bocan…probably two or three hundred years, but I hadn’t forgotten how big they are, how strong they are or how hard they are to kill. At least the last time I’d faced one I’d had a for-real sword.

It came at me, a silent rush of death. At the very last second, I spun out of the way and felt the blast of air as it swiped out at where I’d stood only a heartbeat earlier. The thing’s hands ended in claws that measured close to three inches long.

The skin along the back of my neck prickled as I once more started to circle away from the bocan, weaving around it in nonsensical patterns. It made another rush and this time, instead of moving aside, I went down and sliced upward. Black, bitter blood covered me as I managed to break skin. It shuddered, but I figured out very quickly that while I’d hurt the demon, I hadn’t slowed it down. It slashed out as I scrambled away. Those claws got closer that time.

And then again. This time it caught me. I bit my lip to keep from screaming as the claws managed to get me in the belly, slicing me open. Blood flowed.


A hand came out of nowhere and grabbed me, hauling me aside.

Dazed, I fell against the crumbled rock wall at my back and watched. I was in a state of shock, I think. I didn’t recognize the man at first…well, not consciously. My body probably would have, if I hadn’t been losing huge quantities of blood through the gashes in my belly. I whimpered and shrugged out of the blood-soaked jacket I wore and balled it up, pressing it to my wounded stomach.

The flesh was already knitting back together. I could literally feel it, deep, deep inside. It was a bad injury. If I was still wholly human, I’d be dead already. As it was, I was losing a lot of blood. Even us pseudo-immortals get weak when we lose too much blood.

Sinking to the ground, I watched as the man fought the bocan.

He was a lot more equipped to handle the thing than I was, that was for sure. The bocan tried to gut him with those lethal claws but the man moved away, quick as a wish. I saw one hand disappear inside the long coat he wore—something about that coat, the way it stretched over his shoulders, tickled a memory. I wouldn’t look at his face. Thinking about it now, I know why I wouldn’t look, because I knew in my heart who he was, and I needed to prepare myself a little bit more before I actually looked at him.

Instead, I focused on his hands…and on the very awesome weapon he’d drawn from inside that long, black coat. It was a black cylinder, maybe two, two and a half feet long. Yeah, I know, that doesn’t sound too flashy. It would do some serious damage to a human, probably even a number of manifested demons.

But a nine-foot-tall bocan?

Nope. Right up until he twisted it, I wasn’t impressed. But then he twisted it. I heard the whisper of metal as two edged blades appeared, one out either end of the metal cylinder.

Now it was five feet long, and bladed on both ends.

He used it like an artist. He moved like a dancer of death. The silver flashed through the air. His body barely seemed to touch the ground before he was moving off again. Eerie, deadly and oh so lovely to look at. In a rather morbid way, of course.

Black blood stained the metal as he sliced through the bocan’s scales.

The bocan hissed.

The man just laughed. That laugh. I knew that laugh.


Just before I passed out, I finally let myself look at him. I found myself staring at his familiar profile. An ache settled in my heart and it followed me as I went under.



Grimm’s Circle…You think you know fairy tales?  Think again…

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I feel ‘official’. 😉 Two of my EC/Pocket novellas have been repackaged and reissued…aka shuffled around and put with a couple of different stories. The books came out recently, one on 8/11, the other in July.

The Hottie Next Store contains my novella, Good Girls Don’t.

Good Things Come in Threes contains my novella, Voyeur.

And if you wanna buy, I’m all for that.


<p style=”text-align:center;”><img class=”alignnone” src=”http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/38540000/38549514.JPG&#8221; alt=”” width=”124″ height=”193″ /> <img class=”alignnone” src=”http://images.barnesandnoble.com/images/38040000/38049523.JPG&#8221; alt=”” width=”124″ height=”193″ /></p>
<p style=”text-align:center;”><em><span style=”color:#003366;”> </span></em></p>

<li><a href=”http://www.tkqlhce.com/click-3188022-10568661?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.borders.com%2Fonline%2Fstore%2FSearchResults%3Fkeyword%3Dshiloh%2Bwalker%26type%3D0%26simple%3D1&amp;cm_mmc=CJ-_-2506746-_-3188022-_-88×31%20logo&#8221; target=”_blank”>Borders</a></li>
<li><a href=”http://www.amazon.com/gp/search?ie=UTF8&amp;keywords=Shiloh%20Walker&amp;tag=shilwalk-20&amp;index=books&amp;linkCode=ur2&amp;camp=1789&amp;creative=9325&#8243; target=”_blank”>Amazon</a></li>
<li><a href=”http://search.barnesandnoble.com/booksearch/results.asp?ATH=Shiloh+Walker&#8221; target=”_blank”>BN.com</a></li>
<li><a href=”http://www.tkqlhce.com/click-3188022-1168850?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.booksamillion.com%2Fsearch%3Fid%3D4234121271200%26query%3Dshiloh%2Bwalker%26where%3DAll%26search.x%3D0%26search.y%3D0%26search%3DSearch&#8221; target=”_blank”>Bamm.com</a></li>
<li><a href=”http://www.powells.com/s?kw=Walker+Shiloh&amp;PID=32904&#8243; target=”_blank”>Powell’s</a></li>


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cross posted from my personal blog…

Okay guys…one more excerpt.  The ebook releases today from Samhain~as I mentioned a few days ago, more than likely this will go into print at some point, just not sure when.

Word of warning…this is definitely one of my more erotic romance, however it’s also got some tear-jerker moments.


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Asks Sarah.

I’m kidding…right? Well, no….a woman did go to jail for not returning two books/paying the fine/not appearing in court.

And yep, I’m serious…Go look. A woman checked out White Oleander and Angels & Demons last year. Didn’t return them. And viola…she got arrested because she wouldn’t give them up. I mean, ya know, you can probably find them on the discount table at a Borders or B&N, right? So if they are that important, eh, well I’d want brand new, fresh clean books that were mine all mine.

Okay, so yep, I’ve got books I wouldn’t give up for love or money…although I wouldn’t want to go to jail over them. Basically, she stole these books, right? Libraries are for loaning, not keeping.

Since I paid for my wouldn’t-part-with-books fair and square, or somebody gave them to me, I think I’m safe. But the books I won’t part with?

The list goes something like this:

  1. The Ghost of Opaline by Peggy Bacon (I paid $250 for that sucker, I’m NOT giving it up)
  2. the Stardoc series (for those who are here regularly…SL Viehl…need I say more?)
  3. My Little House on the Prairie series (yep, I’m serious…this is one of the sets that got me hooked on reading)
  4. the IN DEATH series…(JD Robb…need I say more?)
  5. Mercedes Lackey’s Wind Trilogy (I so love Darkwind and Elspeth)
  6. Nora Roberts Irish Jewels trilogy (Nora!!!)
  7. My Jessica Hall books ( Hall is aka SL Viehl…enough said)

I’ve got lots of faves, lots of keepers, but these are the ones with the most prominent spot, so to speak, on my keeper case…*G*… I got an entire bookcase now devoted to keepers, thanks to my DH. I adore him.

These are the books I don’t see me parting with…what about you?

cross-posted with my personal blog

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First romance?

So who remembers their first romance?

Mine was The Wanton by Rosemary Rogers. I was like… hmmmmm… 12? There abouts. Man, talk about eye opening. I think technically I knew what sex was, but technical details and then Rosemary Rogers details? Vast difference. I got hooked, but not on the sex. On the romance of it.

Twelve year old girl, already into fantasy and stuff, why not through the idea of HEA in there, too?

Got hooked. Went on to gobble up books by Nora Roberts, Johanna Lindsey, Jude Deveraux… happy sigh.

So do you remember your first?



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Fave romance theme

What’s your fave romance theme?

I really loved the reunited lovers thing…you know, guy and girl madly in love.  Guy or girl screws up or something equally dramatic happens and they are separated, reunited years later and gasp!  That sizzle is there.  They’ve got trust issues to work past, feelings of betrayal (you gotta love the emotion that can get inside those kind of scenes) and still overcome whatever obstacle lies ahead for their story before they can live happily ever after.

But even though I love this theme, it’s easy to mess it up.   If it was a major issue that separated them (and it usually is)  the wrong party (or parties) isn’t going to let go of their anger so easily, but too often, it’s like all the hurt feelings, the anger, are just swept under the rug.  Does love conquer?  It should, especially in a romance-no, scratch that.  In a romance, it has to.  But that doesn’t mean it’s easy.  It should be an uphill battle because that’s what really gets the big pay off at the end.  If it’s too easy, there’s really not much of a story, is there?

So what do you like?  Love at first sight, boss/employee secret crushes, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers… and the list goes on… and on….  Don’t you love romance?


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