The virgin, p.16
The Virgin, page 16
He’s given one chance at redemption—hers and his.
HIRED KILLER, VIXEN Markham doesn’t have any illusions about life or love. Unable to trust even the one man she lets into her heart, she makes a decision that she’ll regret for the rest of her life—which won’t be much longer by the looks of things. Loaded with vengeance and a small arsenal of weapons, she’s ready to face up to her past and say goodbye to her future, until she’s confronted by a pair of eyes she could never forget.
Graeme Mackenzie Lawson lived a hard life. Hard on himself and harder on those who got in his way. Betrayed and murdered, he’s given one chance at redemption—but not for himself—for the woman he loved, the woman who killed him.
Can he keep Vixen safe, when she seems determined to lose her life—and her soul?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Vicious Vixen:
SHE’D BEEN IN THE SMALL, mid-scale apartment for just over a week. On one side lived a detective. On the other side lived a nurse. She hadn’t seen much of them and preferred to keep it that way. She kept a low profile, low enough that there hadn’t ever been mention of her in any of the investigations surrounding Hawthorne.
Which was a damn good thing with a detective living on one side of her. A lot of people in her position wouldn’t want to sleep with a cop just on the other side of the wall. But Vixen didn’t have any reason to worry being this close to a cop. She actually preferred having one close by her safe place—just another safeguard against Hawthorne prying into her life. He was far less likely to have his men go in and set up bugs when there was a chance a cop would notice.
So she didn’t mind the cop. Vixen was glad she rarely saw her neighbors. She wasn’t the friendly type, and liked it that way.
The apartment across from her had been vacant for a few weeks, but judging by the sounds coming from behind the door, that had changed. She pushed her key into the deadbolt and turned it, but just before she could slip inside and shut herself off, the door behind her opened.
She didn’t even have to see him.
Her body knew.
Her heartbeat sped up, her hands went damp and her knees got weak.
Shit, she thought silently.
“Hello again.”
His voice was just as perfect now as it had been when he crashed into her less than an hour earlier. Slowly, she turned her head and met his gaze over her shoulder. “You.”
He smiled. “Do you believe in coincidences?”
“No.” She unlocked the second lock and opened the door. As she slipped inside, she glanced back at him.
“Are you always this friendly?” he asked, still giving her that inviting, open grin.
“Yes. Are you?”
He laughed. The sound of it was like velvet rubbing over her skin and she suppressed a shiver. “Actually, no.”
Go inside, her head said firmly. Shut the door. Get your head on straight. But instead, she lingered in the doorway and studied his face. It was a nice face, she decided. The whole package was nice—broad shoulders, narrow waist, lean hips. Oh yes, very nice. With a body like that, he could be outright ugly from the shoulders up and he’d still have women checking him out.
But the face was every bit as nice as the body. Narrow, with elegant, clean lines, a wide mouth that she imagined knew how to kiss very well. Earlier, he’d worn a pair of mirrored shades that had kept her from seeing his eyes and he hadn’t gotten around to taking them off yet.
“Why am I getting the special treatment?”
One of those wide shoulders moved in a negligent shrug. He reached up to push his sunglasses onto his head as he replied, but whatever he said fell on completely deaf ears. Vixen’s heartbeat faltered. Her hands were all slippery with sweat and blood roared in her ears.
His eyes.
Everything else faded away as she stared into eyes the color of blue neon. Eyes that color couldn’t possibly be real, although she’d once known a man who had eyes that same impossible shade. She stumbled backward, fumbled the door open and all but fell inside. Shoving it closed behind her, she fumbled with the locks, a sob catching in her throat. Finally, she managed to secure them but her fingers shook too much to put the chain on. Blinded by tears, she pressed her forehead against the door and tried to breathe.
Tried to breathe, but couldn’t.
His eyes.
Damn it, looking into his eyes, for just a second, it had been like she was looking into Graeme’s eyes once more. Guilt churned in her gut, but the guilt wasn’t what had her shaking like a leaf. It was grief.
She half-fell, half-leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down until she was crouched in the corner. Drawing her knees up to her chest, she hid her face against her legs and tried to block off the torrent of memories storming through her...
Her soul mate...or her downfall?
Look for Shiloh’s Latest...
Spectre
Spectre
I WASN'T EVEN A MAN when I took a life for the first time, although you couldn't say I was a child. If I'd ever had a childhood, it hadn't lasted long. My father, may he rot in hell, had seen to that. I took his life as well and that, too, happened before I was old enough to be considered a grown man. I never regretted it for a second.
That path almost led to my own grave, and would have, if I hadn't stumbled across somebody who was as different from my father as day was from night. Sarge had seen the monster lurking inside, so he took control, gave me guidelines, rules, so I wouldn't be the monster my father had planned.
It worked. I restrained the worst of my rage and honed the skills that had been drilled into me—theft, stealth... assassination. The broken child ceased to exist and I became Spectre, an assassin spoken of in whispers, hired to take out the worst of humanity.
Then I was sent to kill her...and my world came to a screeching halt.
Tia
It's taken a long time, but I finally had a nice, steady routine. I stopped trying to conform to the neurotypicals of the world and found my own normal.
Normal went out the window when I walked into my kitchen and found a strange (hot), dangerous looking (so fricking hot) man drugging my new dog.
It probably wasn't the smartest thing to leap at him like a banshee and attack, but that's what I did.
When my attempt to wreck the vehicle was averted, my kidnapper didn't hurt or threaten me. In fact, he told me he wanted to protect me.
This (hot) guy had to be crazy. But if he was crazy, what did that make me? Because I believed him. More, I found myself seeing something beyond the rigid, blank mask he wore.
He kept trying to push me away, but I couldn't seem to keep my distance. He calls himself a monster...but when I look at him, that isn't what I see. I just see him...and I know he's meant to be mine.
Warning: This isn't a snuggly, comfy read. The male MC is a hired killer, while the heroine is neuro-atypical. Some dark material is involved—the hero kidnaps the heroine. There's also violence when he goes on a rampage against those who put a contract on her. Also references of abuse (not against the heroine). Also very graphic, erotic scenes with minor bondage play.
Read More
About
SHILOH WALKER HAS BEEN writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more...ah...serious works of fiction. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance, and urban fantasy under her penname, J.C. Daniels. Follow her on Twitter, BookBub & Facebook. Read more about her work at her website. Sign up for her newsletter and have a chance to win a monthly giveaway.
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Ruined
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Her Best Friend’s Lover
The Ash Trilogy
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If You See Her
If You Know Her
The Secrets & Shadows Series
Burn For Me
Break For Me
Long For Me
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Shiloh Walker, The Virgin
