Caption This Contest! #contest

Because yesterday was a bad BAD writing day I don’t wanna talk about work so we’re going to have some fun. :) You’re all up for some fun, right?

Caption this pic and I’ll draw two of the best to win a backlist title. :)





Rhian Cahill


Now that I have your attention…..

I figure I should explain the prologue a little. Or at least give you something else about the story. It’s tentatively scheduled for October 20, 2014 release. I say tentatively because, well you know us authors, we can get temperamental and screw up our own plans. :lol:

Anyway…..back to the book. Right. It’s the first in a new series I’m working on. The series is called Infamous so you can probably guess what it’s about. Maybe. :) This first book is Exposed and the heroine is Remington Jane Woden. She’s got a past that under normal circumstances would crush a young girl but Remi’s life before the prologue was anything but normal. You see her mom is a chart-topping singer/song writer, Janie Duke, and dad is hollywood heartthrob, Liam Woods. When both die within a year in tragic accidents you can just imagine the frenzy the press goes into. Luckily, Remi has her Uncle John and Aunt Laura to shield her from the circus that follows. But did they shield her too well…….

Exclusive excerpt: -

Chapter One

Twelve years later


John watched the cab inch its way down the long driveway. “Do you think she’ll ever come out of hiding?” he asked.

Laura linked her arm through his. “Eventually.”

“Is it my fault? Did I shield her too much?” He always worried he’d gone too far in keeping Rem from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

“No.” His wife of thirty years stepped in front of him and captured his face between her hands to get his complete attention. “You did what you thought was best and with the drama that played out at the time we were right to keep her as far from the spotlight as possible.”

He looked into the deep blue eyes of the woman he’d loved all his life and knew she spoke the truth. Rem had needed protecting. The press had gone wild when her father had wrapped his car around a tree but when her mother died of a brain hemorrhage not seven months later they turned into a pack of feral dogs scrounging for any scrap of Remington Jane Woods they could get. She was the fairytale princess who’d lost her movie-star father and chart-topping singer-songwriter mother in less than a year and they all wanted a piece of the tragic child left behind.

“You’re right. I just worry now that she’s an adult and still hiding.”

Laura laughed. “She’s barely an adult.”

“She’ll be twenty-two next month,” he argued.

“Yes, and again, barely an adult.” She kissed him quickly. “Give her time. She’s still finding her way after college.”

John frowned. College was another place where he thought he’d gone wrong. Rem had majored in business. She’d shunned anything to do with music, which as far as he was concerned was a complete waste of natural talent. She sang like an angel without effort, and her lyrics…she didn’t just string words together, she joined them seamlessly. Her mother had trained for years to develop her voice. Rem had been born with hers. Mother and daughter were chalk and cheese, Rem preferred to fade into the background while Janie had loved center stage—loved to perform.

“Now what has that sour look on your face?” Laura asked.

He brought his focus back to her. “She’s wasting her talent.”

“It’s hers to waste, John.”

“But I know she loves writing. Singing.”

“Yes, she does, but until she can separate the music—the spotlight—from the tragedy that was her parents deaths she won’t accept her talent for anything more than a painful reminder.”

“Argh.” He paced away and spun back. “That last song hit number one for Hard Rain on release day. And the one before that within the first week of release. Not to mention the others that have been chart toppers.”

“What frustrates you more, John, that she won’t put her real name on the songs or that she doesn’t want to know anything about them once they’re finished?”

“Dammit.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. Tugged on the ends. “All of it. She should be proud of them. She’s had ten songs hit the charts for one artist or another and she couldn’t care less.”

“Oh, I think she cares. And I can guarantee you she sings along when she hears them on the radio but you know why she writes them with you don’t you?”

She eyed him in a way that made all the air leak out of him. “Yeah.”

“Maybe you still need to hear it said out loud.” Laura smiled at him. “She does it to please you. To be closer to you without stepping into that world she buried along with her parents. It’s understandable.”

Duke ran his fingers through his hair again. He’d be bald at this rate and it was a sure sign he needed to let this topic go before he chased after Rem’s cab and dragged his niece back where she belonged. “I know. I know.”

Laura held out her hand. “Come inside and I’ll make you a drink. We can sit out on the back terrace, watch the sunset and wait for Rem to text and let us know she arrived home safe.”

His jaw clenched. “That poky little hole in the desert is not her home,” he growled.

Laura laughed. “It’s hardly a hole in the desert John.” Entwining her fingers through his, she tugged him inside.

“Doesn’t matter. This will always be her home,” he grumbled as he followed his wife deeper into the house. He wasn’t going to add that he wouldn’t be happy until Rem embraced her musical talent as well as returned home. Laura would probably slap him upside the head if he did, so he kept his thoughts to himself. John might not have succeeded in convincing Rem to come home and write songs full time—or sing them—but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying.


:) Still intrigued? Want more? Let me know in the comments and I’ll pick one person to win a digital copy of any of my backlist titles.

Oh, and don’t forget to head back and comment on the prologue. I won’t be picking winners until the end of the week. :)

Rhian Cahill

Who Wants to Play With A Sexy Rock Star?

Cause today is the perfect day for it. Why? Getting Played, the seventh book in the Heart of Fame series it out NOW! RIGHT NOW!

Getting Played is probably the most…well, playful book in the series and Jaxon, the wild keyboardist who never takes anything serious, was one of my favourite characters to write. Aaaaaand it’s already getting some awesome reviews. Check this one out:

I know you will be surprised to know this was my first Lexxie Couper read, considering it is the 7th book in the series. However; I can’t resist a book with a rock star and I hoped it could be read as a standalone. Well, my verdict is yes, it can. It made me curious to read about the other band members, and I fully intend to, but I don’t feel like I was short-changed at all. I was very impressed with the author’s writing. The personality of Jaxon, the sexy tattooed rock star, was so present I could see it and feel it. He made me smile, laugh, snicker, and blush. He had so much energy and sex appeal it just jumped off the pages. I really enjoyed the fact that the characters had history together and their shared memories brought another dimension to their story. I look forward to reading more from this author. ~ FIVE out of FIVE, Rosarita Reader, I Scream Books


How cool is that!


Fancy a little excerpt?

The song—at this point still titled “Lily’s Song”—fell from his lips. Samuel’s tormented lyrics of aching for something beyond hope wrung his regret. Levi’s music, profound and haunting, soothed his remorse. The song was still a work in progress, Samuel tweaked the lyrics often, just as Levi reworked chords and riffs and time beats. But the bones of the piece of music were there and, in Jax’s opinion, it was one of the finest songs they’d ever created as a band.

He didn’t open his eyes. He never did when he played the piano. Instead, he gave himself over to the power of the music, the lyrics. He wasn’t a singer, but his fingers, his soul and his heart knew exactly how to give voice to music.

He played, the lyrics leaving him with husky rawness, his fingers finding the notes of Samuel’s guitar in the keys, of Levi’s bass, dancing to the building rhythm of Noah’s beat.

He played and lost himself—as he always did—to the beauty and rightness of making music. Of living it as it flowed from him.

And when he played the last note, as always, a part of him regretted the dying moment even as he reveled in its fading sound. Cherished it and ached for it again.

Hunched over the keys, fingers still resting on their cool surface, he listened to his soul return to his body as silence filled the void.

His heartbeat returned to its normal pace and, a soft wry laugh vibrating in the back of his throat, he straightened on the stool and opened his eyes.

Nat regarded him from the piano’s side, her cheek and chest resting on the raised lid, her eyes roaming his face, her pupils dilated. “That was incredible,” she declared on a breathless whisper. “I’d honestly forgotten how amazing you are.”

He forced a cocky grin to his lips. “Ten out ten?”

For an answer, she slid between the keyboard and the stool and straddled his thighs.

Wild heat poured through him. Pooled in his groin, his soul. He gazed up at her, the warmth of her pussy nestled against his jeans-clad arousal. His heart quickened, his balls ached. He reached up and parted the loose V formed by her robe, smoothing his palms across the velvet skin on her chest and shoulders until the garment fell from her arms to the keyboard. A discordant collection of faint notes sounded in the air, a soundtrack to their past he remembered well.

She drew a slow breath, lashes shuttering her eyes for a moment before she looked down at him again.

Desire burned in her gaze. Undeniable and fathomless.

Staring into that inferno, Jax skimmed his hands over the curve of her hips, the subtle dip of her waist and up the curve of her ribcage until his palms grazed over her full, heavy breasts. Her nipples puckered instantly at the slight caress. Her belly hitched.

Sliding one hand behind her back, he held her motionless as he feathered his other hand over each breast, charting the exquisite perfection of each swell of heavenly flesh and its rock-hard, dusky-pink tip.

She made a soft noise of pleasured surrender. Rolled her hips. Arched her back. The move drew her nipple closer to his lips and he took it in his mouth and sucked without hesitation.

“Oh, yes,” she moaned, writhing on his lap. Her elbow, or maybe it was her robe again, played new notes on the piano. The sound danced on the silence, at once delicate and a testament to their passion.

He suckled her nipple harder into his mouth, moving his palm at the small of her back lower until he cupped her arse cheek. With a gentle squeeze, he pulled her closer to his erection, needing to feel her heat on his engorged length.

She arched farther, raking a hand through his hair as she ground herself to his trapped cock.

Growling, he scored a line of nipping kisses across her chest to her other nipple, feasting on it even as he shifted on the stool, desperate to be inside her.

Once again, random notes sounded, treble and bass. More forceful and louder this time. Nat’s palms, anchoring her to the piano as he worshipped her breasts. She moaned and rolled her hips so her pussy stroked his dick through the taut denim of his jeans. “I love…” she panted. “Oh Christ, I love…”



I can’t tell you all enough how excited I am for Getting Played to be out there in the world. I hope you all enjoy Jax and Nat’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If you like, you can pick up your own copy at the following places…


Barnes and Noble

Falling down on the job. :( #slackblogger

It’s my week to ‘man’ the blog and I’ve been MIA. Life has been absolute chaos in the Cahill household lately. Add in a book doing so gawddamn well that all I want to do is stare at the numbers and I swear, if my head wasn’t attached to my shoulders I’d forget that too. :(

Anyway, seeing how I’m finally here and ready to blog you’d think I’d know what to say. Ah……no. :lol: Color me clueless. So I figure the best way to deal with today (and the rest of the week) is to wing-it. Today we’re going with the unedited NEVER BEFORE SEEN prologue to a story I’m working on. Enjoy. :)




Rem skipped down the hallway to the bedroom Momma used when they stayed at Uncle John’s house. Aunt Laura had told her Momma was resting. Told her to be quiet.

Church quiet.

Mouse quiet.

She slid on her socks then tiptoed the rest of the way to the door. Peeking around the corner Rem saw Momma lying on the floor near the bed.

Momma wasn’t being quiet.

“Momma!” She raced into the room.

“Get Uncle John, baby girl.” Momma’s voice was so soft, like the whisper she used when they were supposed to be asleep but were up past Rem’s bedtime.


“Go, baby girl.” Momma pushed her away and rolled to the side, curling up she sicked all over the carpet.

The smell was horrible and Momma just kept being sick. Rem slapped a hand over her own mouth and nose to stop herself being sick too. Leaning over she saw Momma’s eyes roll up until only the white remained before her eyelids snapped closed like the jaws on the hippos in Rem’s Hungry Hippo game.

“Momma!” Rem grabbed an arm and shook. “Momma, please.”

Rem thought she’d woken her when Momma’s arm jerked out of her hands, but when Momma began to shake all over she knew something was wrong.

Something bad.

Something she couldn’t fix.

Scrambling to her feet, Rem ran from the bedroom and raced for the last place she’d seen Uncle John and Aunt Laura.

She skidded through the halls, her sock covered feet slipping and sliding on the tile floors. Voices echoed up ahead and she tried to run faster. But her legs hurt, her chest hurt and she couldn’t catch her breath over the sobs stuck in her throat. A cry slipped past her lips as she stumbled through the open door of the room she wasn’t supposed to go in. It was where Momma and Uncle John worked. Where they made songs and music that Rem heard on the radio all the time.

Where little girls weren’t allowed to play.

Uncle John spun around. “Rem, you know you aren’t—”

“Momma!” The cry burst from her when she crashed into him.

He wrapped his big arms around her and tried to pick her up but she fought him. She had to make him go help Momma.

“Hey, hey, easy there, Rem.” Uncle John crouched down in front of her. “Now what’s…why are you crying?”

She tugged on his arm. “P-p-please. M-m-momma.” She couldn’t talk properly. Her words wouldn’t come out right when she was crying so hard.

“Where’s your mother?” He looked past her and Rem turned to see Aunt Laura enter the room.

“M-momma.” She pulled free of her uncle’s grasp and launched herself at Aunt Laura.


Rem grabbed her aunt’s skirt and tugged her towards the hallway.

“Where’s Janie, Laura?” Uncle John asked, his big voice booming through the room.

“She said she wasn’t feeling well. She went to lie down for a bit.”


Uncle John rushed by them. The swear word Momma said no one could say echoing in the hallway behind him. Aunt Laura scooped her up and started to rush too. Rem wrapped her arms around her aunt’s neck and held on as tight as she could. Fear ate at her stomach making it churn and Rem worried she’d be sick like Momma. That the ice cream she’d just eaten would come back up.

Some of Uncle John’s men ran past. She knew Uncle John was yelling—shouting at people, telling them what to do—but Rem couldn’t hear the words over her own sobbing. Her aunt stepped into Momma’s room then turned around and rushed them back into the hall. Whatever was happening to Momma wasn’t good. Rem knew without being told. Everyone was shouting and running and Aunt Laura gripped her hard as she kept them against the wall out of everybody’s way.

“The ambulance is on the way.” Someone yelled and Rem gripped Aunt Laura tighter—cried more.

“Shh, Rem. We have to let the paramedics in,” Aunt Laura whispered in her ear as she hurried back through the house while Rem clung to her. She wanted to go back to her Momma.

Didn’t want to.

They reached the front door and her aunt pressed the control pad that would open the gates at the end of the drive before opening the door and stepping outside.

She heard them then—the sirens. The screeching grew louder and louder, and turning her head away from her aunt’s chest Rem watched the first vehicle speed up the driveway. A police car followed the ambulance, a fire truck behind them. The lights on top of the cars flashed blue and red. Red and blue. Blue and red.

And the sirens kept screaming.

Men burst from each vehicle, and the madness that followed made her cling to her aunt tighter. Bury her head against her aunt’s warm neck. When they rushed Momma from the house on a stretcher Rem cried harder.

She didn’t know how long they waited in the cold white room. Didn’t know what was happening to Momma just down the hall. Didn’t know when she’d see Momma again. Didn’t know when they’d get to go home. All she knew was that Aunt Laura never let her go and Uncle John walked from one corner of the room to the other over and over and over.

The man with black hair beneath a funny green hat and a long white coat came and went lots of times. Each time he stood near the door whispering with Uncle John. Each time he had a frown on his face that made Rem’s tummy hurt, her eyes sting.

She’d stopped crying long ago. It hadn’t done her any good. Momma hadn’t come to give her a cuddle or wipe her tears away. When the man came back and Uncle John followed him out of the room Rem wanted to go too. Wanted to go find Momma and crawl onto her lap like she did whenever she felt bad. Momma always made everything better.

But she stayed with Aunt Laura. Stayed wrapped in arms that weren’t her Momma’s.

It took ages for Uncle John to come back but when he did he walked over and scooped Rem up out of Aunt Laura’s arms and held her close.

“C’mon, Rem, time to go home.” His voice sounded funny—shaky—not the booming sound she was used to.

“Isn’t Momma coming?” she murmured as she curled against him.

“No baby girl, Momma needs to stay here tonight.”

“Why? Why can’t Momma come home now?” Rem’s tears started again and her chest hurt when she tried to breath.

Her daddy had stayed in the hospital overnight too.

Uncle John held her tighter. “The doctors need to give her special medicine.”

“No,” she whispered. Momma had said the same thing about daddy. Said the doctors had to make him better.

He never came home.

“No. No, no, no, no, no.” She tried to wiggle out of her uncle’s arms. “No!”

Aunt Laura moved closer and wrapped her arms around Rem and Uncle John.

“Shh. It’s okay, baby girl.” Uncle John ran his hand over her head and her aunt rubbed her back, both of them offering comfort that only Momma could give.

In that moment Rem knew nothing would ever be okay again.


So what do you all think? Good? Bad? Intrigued?

Let me know in the comments and I’ll pick one commenter to receive a digital copy of any of my backlist titles. Go!

Rhian Cahill

The Dirty Word List

Almost everyone got these right, but there were a few missteps here and there. Here’s the list of answers in order:












That sound’s like a particularly dirty tag cloud, doesn’t it? :). Thanks to everyone who participated in this week’s little game, I had fun putting it together and I hope you had fun playing. The winner was randomly drawn, so the more times you commented the more chances you got of winning. Without further ado, the winner is…


Thanks again everyone! June you can contact me at sami at samilee dot com to claim your prize.




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