Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 33

Confessions and NSFWishness on day 7

I'm day #7 on Tamsin Flowers Supererotica Advent calendar . There's a nice steamy excerpt of Restricted Release up there. As it often does, it starts with a confession...

Happy Saturday. We are due some icky weather tomorrow, so I'm doing all my crazy running around today! :)

XOXO
Sommer
photo credit: Www.CourtneyCarmody.com/ via photopin cc

A somewhat NSFW exclusive excerpt from HOLLOW MEN

Thought this might cheer up some dreary-ish Friday afternoons. I love this weather, though. Perfect excuse to hibernate and work and um...not work. Also known as procrastination.

Heh.

(read to the bottom, there's more blog)

Excerpt from Hollow Men by Sommer Marsden NSFW-ish
Dystopian fiction with a steamy twist...

Copyright 2013, Sommer Marsden
Published by Resplendence Publishing, LLC
Unauthorized reproduction or distribution is strictly prohibited

The shower was short and sweet. With the activity on the street, I didn’t allow myself to linger. I toweled off slowly, though, listening for any haunting sounds. At the moment, I heard none.

I watched him. He was leaning casually against the windowsill, shotgun within easy reach, watching. Waiting.

Protecting.

It had been a long time since I’d felt protected by another person. Not since my dad. I hated how much it soothed me to feel someone was looking out for me. For some reason, it felt as if it were failure.

“Take a picture, it lasts longer,” he said, not turning to face me.

I snorted, wrapped the towel around my body. I needed new clothes. “You still saying that? What is it, 1987?”

He grinned but didn’t look at me. “Maybe. In my head. But I wouldn’t have been saying that anyway, smart ass, because I was just born.” Finally, he looked my way. “And so were you.”

“Okay, true. But tres eighties, right?” I moved to the chest of drawers. I had taken over the master bedroom when I wasn’t sleeping in the basement to feel secure. I sorted through clean clothes to find my favorite jeans, a Doctor Who tee that had originally been my dad’s and some wool socks. It was cold as balls upstairs.

I stood there and just watched him some more. The gray daylight washed over him and accented high cheekbones, a strong chin, the chocolate color of his hair. Tossing the clothes on the bed, I moved closer. “Anything?”

Adrenaline and anxiety had been ricocheting around inside of me for hours. I felt wired, as if I’d been zapped by lightning. The hardwood floor was freezing beneath my feet. The wind howled outside as if mimicking the hollows.

“Not right now. They scattered a few minutes ago. I can still hear them, off and on, but not see them. Everything right here seems to be quiet.”

“It has me spooked,” I whispered, moving up close behind him.

“I know. But those seemed transient. I think we can relax.” He smiled at me. His eyes roved over my bare shoulders to my cleavage and down my towel. “At least for a while. It’s fine.” He forced his eyes away. I could tell he didn’t want to which made me happy.

I touched his arm. Soft. Gentle. A stroke of my fingertip. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

I gaped at him. “For saving my life, dumb ass.”

He shrugged, color flooding his face. “It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me. I can’t let you get eaten, El. I’m still getting over you.”

The final sentence was the utter truth. It was audible in his inflection. My throat grew tight, and my stomach flexed. I shook my head, meaning to tell him to knock it off. That this world was not built for connections or relationships. People died. People got lost. People relocated, got separated, people disappeared. Often.

Instead, I dropped the towel and murmured, “Keep watch. Keep me safe.”

I sank to my knees on the small throw rug he was standing on, his big, chunky boots looking out of place on the aqua and marine blue swatch of brightness. I pulled at his belt buckle and his button. His zipper almost outsmarted my shaking fingers.

“El—”

“Don’t you tell me I don’t have to,” I growled at him, finally getting the zipper down. “Or so help me god, I’ll bite you.” I rested my forehead on his belly and hooked my fingers in his waistband but didn’t pull it down yet. “I need to do this, Evan. Let me do this. I want to.”

He said nothing. I could feel him breathing. Then he settled a big hand on top of my head, and I felt relief. I smiled. Pulled his jeans down, his boxer briefs, found him with my mouth. I delivered an open mouths kiss to the side of his shaft, breathed in the scent of him almost greedily...

For the rest go HERE . Also, I just showed the man, this is the first book dedicated to him using his name. I have dedicated almost every book I've had published to him. I figured it was about time I used his name. Why not, right?

XOXO
Sommer

Best. Day. Ever.

I've waited 42 years for this. Today, for the first time ever (barring anthologies), I walked into a Barnes and Noble and found myself on the shelf. Well, my book. I'd have a hard time getting up on that shelf.

I've been spotted by others in bookstores,but I've never ever seen myself (again, barring anthologies).

We took pictures! After I stopped almost knocking my son over from hugging him.

I am a happy girl.

Hollow Men is out!

My gosh, this book Hollow Men was about a year in the making, I think. And then today I forget it's out. My son doesn't call me 'once around the bowl mom' for nothing. I think (this will be my excuse) that I am still reeling from yesterday when Restless Spirit came out. Yep, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

This always happens to me, no lie, come December I have a boon of books. But I am most certainly not complaining.

Anyway, behold:



Blurbety Blurb:


America’s greed finally bit it on the ass in late 2012. The Mayans had nothing to do with our spectacular fall. All things fast, cheap and super-sized did. They called them Hollow Men because the phenomenon appeared in men first. The theory being men, toting more muscle mass, ate more meat. And meat was ground zero…
In a new world where voracious inhuman killers roam the streets and human poachers can be just as dangerous, the only thing that could make loner Eleanor Salt’s life more complicated is the love from her past. Evan Blackwood.
He’s the one who got away. Or more like she pushed him. But now he’s back, and he still loves her. And he wants her to come with him. To have a shot at a real life. All they have to do is survive the open road and get to a safe place. If they can.   Buy link: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com... Read an excerpt HERE. 
Thanks for checking me out! You are awesome :)
XOXOSommer

Release day *cartwheel* and "show me the proof"

Which is the only way I can do them where I won't mangle and maim myself. Tada! I'm so excited. Today is the Sourcebooks Casablanca release of Restless Spirit. I have proof:

Isn't that gorgeous? I think so.

Last night I did my first chat on Facebook. I still have whiplash but it was fun! (Boy that sucker scrolls by fast). Restless Spirit was also mentioned in Violet Blue's recent Kink Your Kindle. Cover and all! You can check it out HERE.

Overall, I'm babbling. I'm super duper happy and so grateful to all of you who reading and commenting and reviewing and supporting. You. Are. Awesome. :)

Contest:
So here's where I ask...if you see my book on a shelf anywhere...please take a picture and send it to me. Now is the time for me to live vicariously through you. I'll post all pics sent to me and then if I get enough I'll draw a name for a prize. If you see me, please do make my life and show me the proof! :) And spread the word if you would. Make my life!

XOXO
Sommer

Today's my birthday, tomorrow's a chat day!

Here's me:

Okay, okay, that's not me. That's my Max mug from the man. Part of my birthday loot. But I'm smiling like that. It's been a good lazy day. Coolio.

Tomorrow will not be a lazy day. But it should be fun. Lunch with my mom and then tomorrow evening this:

Hope you'll come check it out. Say hi. There will be 9 authors, I believe, and prizes! Woohoo! Go here to join (by following the link and hitting "chat now") when it all gets started https://www.facebook.com/sourcebooks 

XOXO
Sommer

I bet girl child is going to...

Give me a cookie! I finished NaNoWriMo with 50,013 words.. And a day early to boot! My novel's not done, though. I shall continue to plug along, but at my own procrastinate-ish pace.

Have you finished? Are you a winner? Let me know in the comments below :)



XOXO
Sommer

I am thankful...

I promised, while tweeting from the hospital yesterday at chemo, to write this blog. Here goes:

I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason. Despite the fact that sometimes you'd have to use a pick ax and a miner's light to suss out that reason. But I digress.

Yesterday was typical chemo day. Lots of beeping in that room, lots of stress as they drew blood, tested the blood (if you fail you don't get treated and God, did that man want to be treated). There was also a surprise snafu where a blood bag did not get hooked into a patient's drip properly and well...blood everywhere. Let's just say that The Lost Boys would have been having appetizers in the chemo bay. Then there were the TVs...

Every patient has a TV. It swings out on an arm so you can put it in front of you to the side or wherever makes you happy. But most people do not want to use the headphones provided. So depending on the person, their age, etc you have various levels of deafening noise. Yesterday, the old man across from us had it so jacked up it was almost in surround sound. Then they brought a woman in on my right and she turned hers on. Not loud, but due to how we were seated, it was directly in my ear. As if I were the one wearing the headphones.

Long story short: I had one TV blaring in one ear and one being funneled directly into the other ear.

Long story shorter: I had to leave.

Run!

Flee!

The man understood. Migraine is migraine is migraine and a migraine-y wife is no good.

Out in the waiting area, I found a nice little niche and got out my Nook and began to read and...

Here comes one of the front desk women with a young girl. Then two security guards. They were all around this girl, information being taken, radios squawking, so I did what writers do in these situations. I eavesdropped.

What I witnessed was humanity at its finest.

I'll nutshell this for you:

This was a young girl, sixteen, who was having some emotional and mental issues. And she had sought help the day before and they sent her home. So instead of just doing as told and possibly, most likely, doing something harmful to herself, she came back.

Wow. Brave. Too many kids cannot do this. They are ashamed or afraid or in this scenario they figured they already tried and that's that.

This kid came back. Came into a strange building. Reached out to strange people and was met with...

Help.

Wow. The front desk worker was amazing. Kind, considerate and respectful. I was very much in awe as I watched the two security guards and the front desk lady with this kid. She was treated with the utmost care and love and genuine concern. It was one of those moments where people in helping positions truly get to shine.

They found her mom in a neighboring building, they called in the county, they fed her, they basically formed a protective bubble around this kid--who said that, yes, she did feel as if she might hurt herself--until everything could be handled. And through it all, she was treated with such kindness it made me a little emotional. When the county officers arrived, they continued with exquisite care and kindness.

It would have been very easy to tell her "You're in the wrong building" or "You need to go across the street for  that" or even "I'll call someone from psych". None of that happened. What happened was amazing. And sweet. And highlighted humanity in the most positive way. I hope all of those involved have a wonderful Thanksgiving. I, for one, am thankful that I got to witness them in action.

XOXO
Sommer

photo credit: MTSOfan via photopin cc

Guest (*Christmas*) Blogger: Tamsin Flowers

Doo-doo-dee-dooooooo! That is my noise for the first Christmas blogger. Not only is Tamsin kicking off Christmasy time 'round here on UF, but it is chemo day so she his saving my ass with content as I bundle up the man and we head off to get his treatment.

While I am gone, feel free to nibble on her blog, sample the blurb, pick at the excerpt and sip on the bio. Nothing starts the Christmas season off right like some tasty bits and yummy treats.

No calories!
XOXO
Sommer


Christmas Tattoo
Hi,

Firstly - thanks for having me, Sommer - it's great to be here.

And I've brought with me a steamy excerpt from my latest release, The Christmas Tattoo. It's a sweet but spicy erotic love story about a sexy red-head, Bradie Clements, who comes back to her home town for Christmas after breaking up with her boyfriend. Of course, she's not looking for love but when she runs into an old flame from high school, the sparks begin to fly and she suddenly finds herself in the backroom of his tattoo shop, discussing the possibility of a tattoo.

Now, I'm going to stop right here and not tell you anymore of story. But instead, here's a confession - I've always wanted a tattoo. I haven't got one - perhaps I'm too much of coward. But I've been fascinated by them for years. I think it dates back to when I was a child. My grandfather was a naval man and had blue and green Chinese dragons tattooed up each of his arms. He would roll up his sleeves to show us when we were small and it never failed to delight us.

Now, I often find myself thinking about what tattoo I would have and where I would have it. And I think one of the reasons I don't have one is that whenever I think about it, what I want changes… The moment I make up my mind on one thing, I have another idea that I like better. And where would that leave me if I actually had it done?

Will I ever get one? I don't know but I'll let you know if I do!

Anyway, here's an excerpt from The Christmas Tattoo in the meantime.

Tamsin
xxx


The Christmas Tattoo - blurb
When sexy red-head Bradie Clements comes home from Washington to nurse a broken heart and build bridges with her estranged father, she’s certainly not on the lookout for romance. After catching her boyfriend Kris in bed with her best friend and boss, all she wants to do is run and hide. But a chance encounter with local tattoo artist Colton Bassett leads to an unexpected appointment with his needle. Even though it’s cold outside, the temperature rises to boiling point as the two discover an irresistible attraction. But then Kris arrives on the scene to claim her back in time for his family Christmas and Bradie starts to remember what she saw in him. Tormented by jealousy and suspicion over Colton’s pregnant business partner, Bradie starts to wonder if her new romance is over before it’s begun...


Buy links
Available at Amazon.com , Amazon UK , Kobo , and Xcite Books


Excerpt
Bradie followed him through to a small studio.  The walls in here had the same patchwork of designs and there were two work stations, one with a black reclining barber chair and the other, a sort of articulated massage bench which could be arranged into a range of positions.   A work station along one wall carried the tattoo artists’ equipment: a huge selection of ink bottles and a number of scary devices that looked for all the world like medieval torture instruments.
Bradie considered them and swallowed hard.
“Take a seat,” said Colt, going over to the bench and picking up a particularly vicious-looking instrument.
Bradie backed up and found the back of her thighs pressing against the arm of the barber chair.
“Sit.  I can’t do you standing up.”
Bradie stumbled back into the seat, her breathing suddenly faster and the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears.
“But… I haven’t told you…”
Colt advanced on her and pressed a button on the device.  A sudden whirring noise whined out of it.
“Wait…”
Colt towered over her now.  He turned the gadget off. 
“You don’t remember me, do you, Bradie Clements?”
Bradie sat bolt upright.
“From?”
Colt rolled his eyes.
“School.  Only four years in the same homeroom, Bradie.  We even went on a date once.  But the less said about it the better.”
Bradie closed her eyes and delved back in time.  The height… the dark eyes… a date to the movies.
“Colton Bassett?  But you had black hair at school.   And you were skinny.”
“Okay, enough,” said Colt, running a hand through his blonde hair.  “It figures, I’ve changed.  But you haven’t.  Still the long red hair.”
“So why didn’t you say anything on the train?” said Bradie.
Colt put down the tattoo gun and perched on the edge of the massage table.
“I saw you and I remembered the date.  I didn’t want to remind you of it.”
Bradie could see why.  It had ended in disaster.  She had been an innocent co-ed and Colt had tried to feel her up in the back row.  She’d panicked and run out of the theatre and then spent the rest of the school year regretting it.  The blood rose to her cheeks again.  Shit, why did he keep having this effect on her.
“And now?” she said.
“Probably better to get it out in the open if you’re gonna be in town for a bit.  Look, I’m sorry for the way I behaved back then.”
“No, I am.  I always wished I’d stayed in there.”
WTF?  She had some sort of runaway mouth on her this morning.  She bit her lip.
“That came out wrong.”
“I’ll change the subject,” said Colt.  “So what sort of tatt do you want?”
Bradie thought for  a moment and then shrugged.
“A Santa sleigh?”
Colt laughed.
“Or perhaps a candy cane?” he said.  “They’re always popular.  But seriously?”
“I had a bad year, so something that means a new beginning maybe.  Perhaps a few words or a quote.”
“Where would you have it?”
“Not on my arm or leg.  Somewhere more private.  My hip, maybe?”
The room seemed suddenly smaller, hotter.  Colt stood up.
“Show me.”
With shaking fingers Bradie popped the top button of her jeans and tugged the zip halfway undone.  Then she pushed the waist band down a way to expose the jut of her hip bone.
“Here,” she said.  It came out a whisper.
Colt came closer.  He ran his thumb over the place she indicated, brushing the top of her black lace panties.  His warm skin hummed against hers but his touch sent a red hot jolt of current up through her.  Her breath caught in her throat as she was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to stroke his skin in return.
“It’ll hurt, across the bone there.”
He moved his thumb a little closer to her navel, pushing the black lace and denim down a fraction further.
“Whereas here would be less painful.”
Bradie’s eyes met his.  Colton Bassett.  Her teenage crush.  And now with his hands back where they’d been once before.  Their eyes locked and his face came closer.  Bradie took a deep breath as a surge of adrenalin, lust and anticipation flooded through her.  Was this about to happen?


Tamsin Flowers

Tamsin Flowers loves to write light-hearted erotica, often with a twist in the tail/tale and a sense of fun.  In the words of one reviewer, 'Ms Flowers has a way of describing sexual tension that forces itself upon your own body.' Her stories have appeared in a wide variety of anthologies and she is now graduating to novellas, for publishers including Cleis Press, Xcite Books, Secret Cravings and Totally Bound. This year, she entered NaNoWriMo, with the intention of penning her magnum opus in the very near future.  In the meantime, like most erotica writers, she finds herself working on at least ten stories at once: while she figures out whose leg belongs in which story, you can find out more about her at Tamsin's Superotica or Tamsin Flowers.

I'm a real prize...

At least I am today!

There's still time to win at the Year End Splash over at The Romance Reviews. Today I could be your prize. Well...my book, could (I'm #4)



http://www.theromancereviews.com/event.php

Getting all my hair chopped off tonight! Woohoo :) Happy Sunday.

XOXO
Sommer