Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 42

Guest Blogger: Abi Aiken

Thank you, Sommer, for having me here on your blog today. Seriously, I’m in awe. I’ve been reading your work for more than two years (and loving it!), so to have an opportunity to be in your neighbourhood is simply amazing to me.
I’d also like to send a quick shout out to a couple of other people: my cover artist, Willsin, and his co-author Katie (who is also my book formatter - no way I can get my brain around that sort of fiddly stuff, lol!), who have kind of plugged me into “the circuit” and given me some real pointers. They’re the ones who paved the way to get me here today!
Well firstly, here’s a little bit about me, courtesy of my official biography.
Abi Aiken is a youngish latte-swilling movie-lover with fewer secrets than you might think. As an only child, she found the best way to have conversations (and win arguments) was to play all the parts herself. So she wrote her first story at the age of 12 and it felt so much like coming home that she never left. She believes most of her problems can be solved by Midori and lemonade.
But here’s a little more about me. I crush sooo easily. Not on just anyone, but I crush across genders and ages and races and religions. I’m a sucker for a square-jawed older man, but can just as easily be swept away by the dimples in a young woman’s back (which is one reason why I looooooove my new cover - when Willsin showed me that image I got totally lost in that girl’s skin!). I once broke up with a guy because I was crushing on his sister (not that I told either of them that!). And I have such a weakness for eyes, whether they be cold, grey and powerful, or warm, brown and soft...or anything in between!
I don’t act on all my crushes of course, but I think it’s that part of my personality that led me to the idea for my first story, “His Go-To Girl”. I’ve fallen stupidly in love with housemates far too many times in my relatively short life, which is a big part of why I’m currently living alone!
And with that convenient little segue, I’d love to give you all a little preview of my book!
-----
“His Go-To Girl”
Blurb: Channary Kee has been best friends with Daniel Garrett since the fourth grade. Now sharing a house, that friendship has grown into a beautiful romantic love.
For one of them.
Even with her genius level IQ, Channary can’t find a way to tell her housemate how she feels. And when a new love interest steals Daniel’s attention away, it seems all is lost.
Can Channary win back Daniel’s attention and turn it into love? Or will her efforts shatter their long friendship, leaving her with nothing?
Excerpt:With my back to him, I held my breath and closed my eyes. I felt the heat of his body all over me as he stepped up close and swept my hair into his hand. A moment later I felt soft bristles gushing through my voluminous black mane.
“Daniel, what’re you doing?”
“Making peace.”
Oh hell, it felt good. The man of my dreams running a brush – and his fingers – through my hair. It was so unexpected and disarmingly intimate. His voice rumbling so close to my ear played havoc with my knees.
“I noticed you were struggling with that old brush. Hair like yours deserves special treatment.”
Not for the first time I was utterly confused. What kind of straight man gives great hair without wanting great head in return? Or notices a girl struggling with anything other than her underwear?
He stopped brushing and moved in front of me. “So I got you this.”
“Oh, Daniel. Is that silver?”
“Silver plated. And the bristles are boar-hair. That’s supposed to be good, right?”
“How did you afford it?”
“Sold your kidneys.”
“Oh. That’s why you didn’t get me the beer.”
His laughter was like music to me.
“I surrender. But one day, brain-strain, mark my words: I will have all the answers and you will be speechless!”
I cradled the brush like it was a kitten. Receiving a gift from Daniel would be reason enough for me to be tingling inside. But a gift with such thought behind it was almost heavenly.
“So we’re good now? Peace is restored?”
I couldn’t help myself. I swept him into a hug that doubtless meant a whole lot more to me than it did to him. He returned it strongly, though, so I just took whatever I could get. With my ear to his chest I could hear his heartbeat, and it suited me to think it was pounding with desire.
Available from Excessica | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords| ARe

Audio Freebie of I've Got a New Girl Now

One of my all time favorite stories is out now in audio narrated by the amazing Rose Caraway. This story story was originally featured in Skirting the Issue from Pretty Things Press Alison Tyler's enticing press. It's a fave because it's hot and funny and sexy and that's my favorite combo deal.

Want to hear? Subscribe to Rose on iTunes or just go here: http://traffic.libsyn.com/kisstherose/Ive_Got_a_New_Girl_Now_by_Sommer_Ma.mp3

It's Friday, celebrate with some naughty audio. 

XOXO
Sommer

Sunday Snog: A seaside kiss...

Reading Victoria Blisse's blog about Smut by the Sea made me search out a seaside Sunday Snog. This is from my story Boil or Bake featured in Alison Tyler's Heat Wave.

I can almost smell the saltwater...

From Boil or Bake by Sommer Marsden
[p.s. I pulled this out of my uncorrected proof and read it through real fast on the fly. Any errors you see are mine and not in the final text. :P]


“Blowing off steam, hunh?” he leaned in but didn’t kiss me. He simply hovered there within kissing distance, my cheeks buzzing and tingling with his close proximity.“Yep.”“I could help.”“I was hoping.”His mouth was sweet and soft and tasted like saltwater and bitter beer. I let him cup my face, let him push me back into the soft sand. Somehow we were insulated from the crowd—far enough away that no one was paying little old us a lick of attention.“By the way,” I said as his hand tangled in my long hair, tugging just enough to start my pulse thrumming. This was the stuff that summer one night stands were made of—the ones you talk about when you’re old and gray after having one too many drinks. “Is it boil or bake?“What?” When I put my hand on the fly of his jeans and stroked the hard cock I found waiting and ready he cleared his throat and said again “What?”“I said, is it boil or bake? Are we at a clam bake or a seafood boil?” “Bake,” he said. “See there, the pit in the sand? If it were a boil—“I squeezed his cock hard enough to make him sigh and shake his pretty blond hair. “Yes?” I chuckled.“We’d be boiling it, in a pot…”I froze and then tilted my head back, laughing at the sky. “Oh fuck. Duh.”His mouth came down over my pulse, his lips soft but insistent. His teeth nipped the jumping flesh on the slope of my neck and I worked my button, pulled down my zipper. “I hope you won’t think me forward—““Please, Alice, be forward—“ He sighed it out and I smiled. The air was purple now. The wind whipping our hair around, stealing our voices.“Can you fuck me? Can I fuck you…” I grinned feeling like my teeth must be damn near neon in the dusk because his were. “Can we fuck, Mike?”

Blindfolded Book Review: Two for One!

Today we have a double duty blindfolded book review. I managed to hit one book and knock a second off its perch before I was done.
In case you forgot how this works here’s the rundown:
I put on a blindfold (or if I'm lazy I just shut my eyes). I take something long (quiet, you dirty minds) like a ruler...and I wave it around until I strike a book. If that mental image doesn't crack you up...you might be dead. Then I see what I picked.
Book one is Gotta Have It edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel. Which is good because I have the attention span of a coked up gnat right now.
The TOC winner was EAT ME by Marina Saint.
And boy am I glad it was. As a former vegetarian (and at one point vegan) and a former pregnant lady and a lifetime burger aficionado, there wasn’t a damn thing not to love in this short, sexy tale. Steamy sex, marital teasing (which I think is the best kind seeing as you know each other so well), a strange juicy fetish and a satisfying climax. Bravo!
The other book I managed to assault was Sudden Sex edited by Alison Tyler. See, my subconscious knows I need short reads right now. Isn’t it thoughtful?
TOC winner was One Sleep by Maria See. 
A bit taboo. Actually, some would consider it a lot taboo. However, not an uncommon theme or fantasy at all. The rape fantasy is only good, I think, when well done. And since this is an Alison Tyler book, obviously it would be done well. Very taut, very short and very to the point, One Sleep is a story that will stay with you a while after you’re done reading it.  Which is the point of stories done well, don’t you think?
And there you go. My Blindfolded Book Review. So go grab a copy of either—or both!—of these books if you don’t have a copy. This is what summer’s all about. Hot, hot, hot fiction.
XOXOSommer

20 Questions with Bel Anderson: " I get pretty excited about Downton Abbey!"

Here we've arrived at the last 20 Questions. Thanks to all who have participated and those who have come to spy--I mean read! I hope you enjoyed this little voyeuristic experiment into the lives of some writers. Our final victim is Bel Anderson. And away we go...




1.       Favorite YA book?  I don’t read much YA – but I’d have to say Sabriel by Garth Nix and also Lirael and Abhorsen, the two follow-ups. I read them years ago but can’t bear to part with them!

2.       It’s a meatless meal night. You eat…  Most nights are meatless. My real favourite is a recipe I make which we call ‘oat roast’ – oats, onions, cheese, an egg, marmite, mixed herbs, all cooked together and made into a loaf. We have this with roast potatoes and vegetables, like a traditional ‘roast’.

3.       Football or baseball? Ugh. Do I have to pick one?

4.       Look at your bookshelf. Top shelf, left to right, what are the first five books you see? No cheating!  The Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine, House of Echoes by Barbara Erskine, Passion Fruit by Sue Limb, Behind the Scenes at the Museum by Kate Atkinson, A Spell of Winter by Helen Dunmore.

5.       Average night. Eat in, eat out, or takeout?  Average weekday? Cook in.  Average Saturday? Cook curry!

6.       Favorite meal to cook?  Actually, curry. Quick to prepare and then an hour to mature in the oven.

7.       Favorite TV show when you were a kid?  Roobarb and Custard – a cartoon.

8.       Favorite TV show now?  I get pretty excited about Downton Abbey!

9.       Best teacher you ever had…  Madame Goodwin.

10.   What did they teach you?  French – as you may have guessed from the name!

11.   Tell us something you did as a kid that no one/very few people know about.  I used to pick my nose on the toilet and wipe it on the wall. I don’t think anyone knew…

12.   Tell us something you did this year that no one/very few people know about.  Um, well, only one person at work knows I write erotica!

13.   What one clothing item can you not live without?  My knickers. That would be really uncomfy in jeans.

14.   Zombies, vampires or werewolves? Oh, vampires every time!

15.   Anything you haven’t written about that you desperately want to?  I’ve pretty much covered everything I can think of that interests me at the moment, although I would maybe like to write about a vampire...

16.   Anything you’ve written about that you desperately wish you hadn’t? No. Regret is the most pointless emotion!

17.   Do you finish a book that is terrible or put it down? Chuck it across the room, usually.

18.   Do you review terrible books or pass on saying anything at all? I say nothing at all because I usually know the people who wrote them. If a book was awful and I didn’t know the writer, I’d just review honestly but not viciously like some do.

19.   Do you read reviews of your work?  There haven’t been many reviews yet – but I do. Even a bad review can be helpful and you can soon tell if someone is just a miserable, spiteful cur!

20.   Red wine or white wine? White, ice cold please – or spritzed with soda and ice.



Bel lives in the South East of England with her family. She works for a living by day and does what she loves best at night… writing! She finds writing erotica very liberating and likes to veer between erotica and her mainstream work to keep life interesting. She loves the thought of her words bringing pleasure to others!
http://belandersonwrites.wordpress.com/

The road is long...

but so many people are cheering us on. THIS was not a shock--not if you know Alison Tyler in any way. She's just that kind of chick. Good from the word go (even when she's bad she's good). What was a shock was the overwhelming amount of people who stepped up to help us. In all ways. And I wanted to take a moment (I hope I'm making sense, FYI) to say thank you. Which seems very small words in the face of such humbling support and love.

But thank you will have to do until I invent better words. The messages, emails, prayers, thoughts, comments, gifts that have arrived at my home and the response to AT's post is staggering and wonderful. This is a difficult time for us, but I believe in the power of positive thought and that good intentions held can have positive benefits. When I was in my 20s I meditated twice a day for cancer patients. I did not know them. Had never met them. All I knew was their name and their cancer type. I believed that I was doing good by focusing my positive thoughts and feelings on them to help them heal. May sound hippy-dippy depending on your outlook, but hey it couldn't hurt, right?

That's how I feel about what we are experiencing right now. All the messages of love, support, understanding and good thoughts are helping us head in the right direction. Which is a healthy man. He's my best friend in the whole world, so I thank you for taking time out of your life to give him good thoughts and support. And for rallying around me in possibly the most scary time in my life.

I count myself lucky and blessed to be a part of this community.

Much love,
Sommer

photo credit: Avard Woolaver via photopin cc

I could be scarce for a bit...

 while we deal with some real life stuff. Blogs, updates, etc could be scarce to nonexistent. I hope you'll check back often during this temporary and semi-hiatus. 
As always, thanks for reading :)
XOXOSommer
photo credit: mariusz kluzniak via photopin cc

20 Questions with Mia Watts: "It's a tie between Ghost Hunters and Swamp People"

This week get to know Mia. Hey, ya can't help to love a woman who goes for soccer, chocolate wine and Bigfoot. Am I right, or what?  XOXOSommer   1.       Favorite YA book?  Anything from the Sweet Dreams multi-author series from the 1990s. 2.       It’s a meatless meal night. You eat…  Iranian eggplant khoresh. Family favorite! 3.       Football or baseball? 
Soccer 4.       Look at your bookshelf. Top shelf, left to right, what are the first five books you see? No cheating! 
Sure, ask for the books out of reach why don'tcha? Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life by Dr. Wayne Dyer; The Protein Counter by Karen J Nolan; The Message Bible by whoever prints that; Kingdom of the Occult by Walter Martin; The Well-Behaved Child by John Rosemund. Evidently, my books are out of order. Hm. 5.       Average night. Eat in, eat out, or takeout? 
eat in unless there's a craving for sushi 6.       Favorite meal to cook? 
Red Thai Curry Shrimp on Basmati rice 7.       Favorite TV show when you were a kid?  Matthew Starr. It was on for a season or two but he had magical abilities and he was hot. Then we moved out of country. 8.       Favorite TV show now?
It's a tie between Ghost Hunters and Swamp People 9.       Best teacher you ever had…  Ms. Piccolo 10.   What did they teach you? 
English (International Baccalaureate program) 11.   Tell us something you did as a kid that no one/very few people know about. 
I became a PADI certified diver and explored island reefs/sunken war ships off the thousand islands with my family. 12.   Tell us something you did this year that no one/very few people know about.  I made a decision I can't share yet and won't share until next year. 13.   What one clothing item can you not live without?  Jeans 14.   Zombies, vampires or werewolves?  Bigfoot 15.   Anything you haven’t written about that you desperately want to? 
YA m/m or New Adult m/m fiction 16.   Anything you’ve written about that you desperately wish you hadn’t?  Yes. 17.   Do you finish a book that is terrible or put it down? I fix a book that's terrible even if I'd rather put it down 18.   Do you review terrible books or pass on saying anything at all?  I don't review ever. It's a hard, political job that I don't envy. 19.   Do you read reviews of your work? Yes. 20.   Red wine or white wine?
IF I drink wine it's either chocolate wine or very, very sweet. I don't like the taste of alcohol.
BIO: Mia makes her home in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where she divides her time between a job and spying on people. Mia enjoys long walks in the park, daisies, dancing in the snow...(Delete prior sentence, meant for personal ad)...
Mr. Perfect may apply in person for a thorough evaluation and trial. All others will be towed.
Mia also writes as Katie Blu in other genres. www.MiaWatts.com @MiaWatts (on twitter)
 

Today's Q&A...and beyond!

Today, my Q&A is up on The Romance Reviews Sizzling Summer Party! Hop on over and give it a shot. You could win one of my books. And then stick around for the rest of this shindig because you could win so much more.

If you're here because of the Sizzling Summer Party, howdy! I hope you'll stick around and rummage through my posts. You never know what you'll find.

Happy Monday. Ugh. Monday...coffeeeeeeeeee.

XOXO
Sommer

Sunday Snog: Keep reading you get to the kiss...*ish* bit

A Sunday Snog Snippet from Bittersweet . One of my first longer length works, I put out. I still love my Deacon. He's a bit rough around the edges, but has a wonderful gooey center.

For more Sunday Snogging go HERE to Victoria Blisse's site. Cheers!

XOXO
Sommer

Blurb:
Rayka’s just looking for a peace offering for an offended client when she goes into The Good, The Sweet, and the Yummy. What she finds instead is a very intoxicating man. Deacon James is more sinful than the candy he sells, and
Rayka soon finds out that he can push her farther than she every thought she could go. Mentally, creatively, emotionally and yes–sexually. Rayka must remember it’s okay to let him have her body, let him test her limits, but she can’t let him have her heart. Besides, he’s made it perfectly clear he doesn’t want it anyway…

Sunday Snog Excerpt from Bittersweet (keep reading you'll get tot he kissish bit):

Deacon pulled into her driveway. Rayka’s house was small and white with black shutters and a porch swing. Two rather large oaks flanked the front walk, and a small garden was planted at the bottom of the front porch. He took a deep breath and walked up the steps. Deep inside of himself he knew what he really wanted, and it was definitely not dinner at Frederick’s. He wanted to walk her backwards into the house the moment that door opened and he wanted to drape her over the nearest available surface. Didn’t matter. Sofa, butcher block, armchair, anything that would hold her stable while he stripped her bare and then slid into her. Entered her. She’d be wet, he was sure of it.
“Jesus,” he said, and his breath puffed out a little cotton ball of smoke in the cold air. “Get a handle, son.”
His boots sounded like cannon fire going up her wooden steps. He hadn’t dressed up. Frederick’s was casual to say the least. He hoped Rayka had, though. He wanted to see what kind of clothing came to mind when she thought of him. It said a lot. Cotton said less than silk. Wool not as much as satin. Soft and slippery and colorful said, ‘Touch me.’ An invitation she would not have to extend twice.
Deacon ignored the knocker and rapped the red wooden door with his fist. The door was cottage style. Wide planks of wood, rounded at the top. It was painted a cranberry. He expected Little Red Riding Hood to answer his knock. She did.
“Hi, you’re early!” she said blushing. Her dress was red, and she was draping a red, hooded cape over the spectacular garment that hugged her every curve.
Deacon swallowed hard. His throat felt stuffed full of cotton, and his head felt muddied. All he saw was red fabric, lush curves and now, peaked nipples. She was watching him watch her and reacting physically to his gaze.
“Drop the cape,” he managed.
She untied the small black ribbon at her throat, and the draped fabric fell to the floor with an intimate whisper.
“Turn around,” he growled.
She spun without a word, like a ballerina in a music box. His cock grew hard at her obedience. She practically panted to submit, but did she know? Was she aware? She would be by the end of the night.
She was barely breathing. He watched the slow, shallow breaths move her rib cage in and out. He pushed her mass of honey-blond hair to the side and watched the nape of her neck pebble with goose bumps. Anticipation and excitement radiated off of her in waves. So did anxiety. She was uncertain. He placed his lips at the very base of her neck. She smelled like warm cinnamon and sweet flowers. He nipped her lightly with his teeth and she let out a small, surprised sound and jumped.
“Shhhh. Just a moment more and then we’ll go out.”
Rayka settled just a bit but he could feel the tension in her body. He liked it. On guard but excited. He slid his fingers over her shoulders, listening to his calluses rasp on the smooth fabric. Touch me, her outfit said. So he did. He slid his tongue down the side of her throat into the hollow above her shoulder. She moaned.
“I like that sound. I like when you lose it for me. Like last night on the phone.”
He heard her suck in a little puff of air. Embarrassed, he was sure. Her cheeks would be a lovely shade of red, her eyes downcast. His hands traced the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips, and then she sighed, long and low. He winced as his cock grew harder still. This would be the longest dinner he had ever endured, he was sure of it.
“What’s this?” he said and he let just a bit of steel creep into his voice.
Rayka jumped and said nothing. Her moans and sighs and happy sounds had deserted her. Deacon snapped the thin elastic band with his fingers. The sound, even muffled by the dress, was sharp. The strike of elastic on skin sounded painful.
“I—”
He snapped it again, harder, and she yelped. She moved to step away from him, and he clamped a hand on her shoulder and steadied her there. She stilled. Rayka didn’t fight him or protest. She simply stopped in her tracks, panting for air.
“I told you no panties,” he said directly into her ear. Her back was ramrod straight, her breasts rising and falling briskly. He could almost smell the worry coming off of her.
“I didn’t think that—”
“I was serious? I would care? Really. Come now, Rayka, tell me that to my face. Tell me you thought I was joking. That I’d be fine with you disobeying me.”
Deacon spun her to face him and there they were. Those twin blotches of color on her cheeks as if she had been smacked. “I didn’t feel okay. I felt weird. Ashamed. Embarrassed. Whatever you want to call it.”
“Scared? Unsure?” he rasped.
She nodded. Eyes downcast, hands worrying at her sides.
“Do you want to go to dinner with me?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes.”
“Do you want me to fuck you? After dinner. Like we both know is planned?”
“I—”
“What? Speak up. You what?” Now he let the animal out of its cage. He didn’t pull any punches or soften his voice. He let her see how he could be when he wasn’t pleased. He would never hurt her, but he would put her in her place. She had to know that now.
“Yes. Yes, I do.” She dropped her head, studied her shoes.
Deacon bent and hiked up her skirt. No preamble or warning. He lifted it briskly and didn’t allow himself the distraction of a long, tanned thigh or the small triangle-shaped shadow beneath the nearly translucent thong. He doubted the scrap could even qualify as panties. He grabbed one slender band and yanked. The elastic snapped with a small pop. Then he ripped the other band and the thong slid to the floor without a sound.
Rayka watched, eyes wide, and then silently stepped over her ruined panties. Her black heel caught briefly, and she kicked the scrap away. “I’m sorry, Deacon,” she said. Her lips looked bruised from biting them.
He kissed her roughly and then dropped to his knees. He planted his mouth over a small welt where the broken elastic had snapped back against her pale skin.
Rayka sucked in a breath when his tongue touched her skin. Deacon could tell by the way she shifted her thighs that she was wet, ready. That she was fighting the rising urgency. He knew because he felt it too.
Deacon kissed gently over her hipbone for just a moment and then smoothed her dress down over her naked body. He kissed her neatly trimmed pubic hair though the fabric and fought the primal urge to drag her to the ground and fuck her right there. Not now. Later. He could wait and she would have to.