Sommer Marsden's Blog, page 6

Boo! Spooky Reads For October

Time flies when you're losing your mind, then finding it again, then losing it again...[rinse and repeat]. But I am aware enough as I try to restructure life and work and slowly regain my sense of humor and urge to do more than watch TV and exercise, that it is October. And October has always been a favorite because I truly dig all things spooky.

For instance, I have snagged myself a guy who loves horror movies as much as I do. Correction: he loves them more. So I have seen some doozies lately that I didn't even know existed. And on top of that we are currently working our way through Tales From the Dark Side (hello 1984 and thank you, Shudder!). Just last night we witnessed Christian Slater at the tender age of 15 in an episode called A Case of the Stubborns. Oh yeah, Brent Spiner was in there too.

But I digress. I'm popping in to post some of my spookier tales for your consideration. I hope you can find something that makes your heart beat faster.

Haunted

Two people lost and alone in life searching for answers…

Maddox visits abandoned sites to take photographs and figure out his future. He haunts the places that are monuments to the way he feels inside. Stark, empty, raw. And Olyvia searches for answers to her own painful
loss by hunting ghosts. Trying to comfort herself by seeking proof of an afterlife.

One haunted amusement park with a dark history…

Maddox and Olyvia recognize kindred souls in one another. But a chance to fully explore their connection is a luxury they may not have. There’s a ghost stalking Screamland hell-bent on revenge. And it’s targeting them. 

Crossroads

Wesley Moore, who bargains with a demon to find success. The price seems cheap when he's alone and his family has a history of early deaths. What he doesn't count on is falling in love with two different people just before his deal comes due. Can Wesley come away with his life and both the boy and the girl? 

**Originally appeared in Other Magical Creatures

Big Bad


Lust according to Ruby: You read those books where they explain it all away. They make it fine with rationalization. But what if I just want to? What if that's my whole reason? My life is not a romance novel. I don’t need justification. I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants. I want Ellis. And I want Tyler. And I won’t apologize... What’s worse than wanting both your best friend who’s a vampire and the just-back-in-town alpha werewolf you find yourself fixated on? Finding out that the werewolf in question wants you, too. But he isn’t too keen on the sharing part. Oh, and by the way, you’re his dead mate. Okay, okay, dead is harsh—reincarnated. What’s worse than that? Realizing that you believe the whole crazy tale of reincarnation. Because it seems to be true. And yet you still want them both—together. Vampire and werewolf and you in the middle. Stuck between two predators who want you and only you. To complicate it all, you find out that you can have it. With your new/old mate’s blessing. But just one time before he claims you as his. Are you brave enough to take it? That one shot? Well...Are you?

Long Lost



What's a girl to do once she's gotten her wolf? Spend Christmas in the belly of the beasts...or at least their Town. Ruby's loving her new life until a single phone call makes her knees go weak, bringing the near past back into her cozy present. Seems an old evil has returned in a brand new nasty package to take another swipe at Ruby. Ellis isn't about to let that happen, and neither are her friends, but Ruby discovers she will be the only one who can really do what needs to be done. And it turns out there are things at stake she never imagined. Things she's willing to die for.

And...

The Divination Falls Trilogy



Lion Hearted
Beast in Me
Kiss Me You Animal

Happy Haunting and Happy Reading. Boo to you!

XOXO
Sommer

If you think my blog's been neglected...

You should see my poor newsletter. I think I missed the release of at least three books. Um...yeah. So to kind of relaunch the Unapologetic Fiction newsletter and apologize for being the great silent one, I'm including a special story in the next newsletter.

This is a story with bite (heh. can you mebbe guess the kink?) that was only available on a pay site until now. Now it will be available on a pay site and to UF newsletter subscribers. I'll also mention those books I forgot to promote. And possibly some stuff that's in the works. I've been mulling over some stuff that's sort of thinking outside the box. I'd like to set the box on fire, actually, but we'll see.

If you're reading this and you already subscribe, sit tight, it'll be out in about a week. If you aren't a subscriber and want to be (don't worry, you might get one newsletter a month, often less, or sometimes...you might think I died!) got that way to ye olde sidebar ~~~~~~~>

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. Premature Friday dance. I ordered this tee from Teeturtle last week :)

Things That Are Nice: Part One

Today hasn't been the most spectacular day, so I kind of decided instead of getting all fuckety in an angry way I'd get fuckety in a different way.

Fuck it, I figured, I'll list things that are nice. That should work. Won't fix the day but it will draw my attention to some good stuff. Right?

Can't fucking hurt, can it? Nope. Let's go!

1. Writing when you want to scream. That is nice.
This morning I had an appointment that I dreaded. I felt equal parts sad and angry and impotent. That's quite a combination. Somehow, after weeks of not being able to wrangle my writing habits very well, I managed to throw myself head first into some submissions I wanted to get done. I was still angry, sad, and impotent, but I had almost a full story under my belt.

2. My dog. My dog is nice. He is the nicest fucking dog and he will lick you within an inch of your life.




3. My dog loves the person petting him in that adorable picture. That is nice. There is a new person in the pack and Oyv adores J. So that is what I call a win-win.

4. Someone said: "An instant wank bank favourite this is one I would definitely recommend to my friends." about my story Appetizer in Rose Caraway's book in this review. No one had ever said that particular thing about my work and it made me laugh. That was all kinds of nice.

5. Alison Tyler and I haven't been able to talk for ages on ye olde telephone. So she's been sending me shit in the mail. Real mail. Letters, notes, etc. Now that is fucking nice. And she is a dreamboat of a friend.

There's some nice stuff. I'm sure there will be more poopy days. And I'll be posting more nice stuff because...can't hurt, right?

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. The evening ended up being much better than the day.

I’m Not Dead: Love, Reboots, Writing and Other Random Weirdness

 So yeah…
It’s been ages since I’ve blogged. That is both due to laziness, life, and by design. (snort, sorry, couldn't resist the graphic).



I have attacked the things I want to say from various angles and been dissatisfied with most. The thing is, I’ve always been a very real human being on my blog. Sometimes too human, I think. I don’t just update readers about work. I update about life and love and humor and sadness. Go on, I’ll wait, scroll through if you don’t believe me. Hop around. Hit a few years. Spot check different months…
My point is, my blog isn’t just for promotion or updates about my work. It’s to spotlight my friends, fellow authors, and a whole damn lot of it is just me. Messy, crazy, me.
Which means a lot of you reading this were there for diagnosis. And there for chemo and radiation. There for when things got bad. And there for the very end.
Believe it or not we’re creeping up on the two year mark. Two years since the word WIDOW was thrust upon me.
Truth be told, I have a shit ton to say about those two years. It’s the writer thing, I guess. You didn’t really feel it unless you can write about it. There are so many things I’d like to excise from my head and explain. Not just to chronicle it, but to share it with others who might need to read it. Just like I did with this particular blog right after Jim was diagnosed.
But like I said, every angle I attack it from leaves me dissatisfied. Because those of you who’ve been here since 2000-whatever (whenever the fuck I switched from SmutGirl to this blog) and before should read the things I want to say as humbly and honestly and lovingly as I can state them. And maybe I’m just not there yet. Two years, in the scenario of loss and grief, is both an eternity and a blink of the very flawed human eye.
So what I can tell you is this:
*Life does indeed go on and it can get better. And then it can get good. And then it can get great. You’ll find yourself super fucking happy one day and for that first split second of recognition be very, very confused.
*I am still writing. I am back to writing shorts again. Which is odd. I’d kind of stopped them unless and editor contacted me and specifically requested it. Now I’m back in the thick of it and kind of digging it.
*I am working on a novel that is NOT erotic. Shut your eyes, rub them, read them again…you read it right. Not erotic. Let’s see how that plays out.
*I do have two erotic novels half done but I’m not sure where we stand right now. I’m still petting them and plying them with wine and chocolate. We’ll see. Long time readers might recognize one of them: A Many Splintered Thing
*I have someone in my life. And to just rip that band aid right off and do the fuck it thing: I love him. Very much. He is a good, good man. And you all know how I feel about good men. (Um…Johnny Rose comes to mind)
*I do not wake up anymore and think: “Oh, shit. I’m still here…”
*I wake up and wonder what my day will bring. And what will be said or done to make me laugh or make me feel grateful or make me just kind of tilt my head back and say thank you to no one in particular.
*I will be picking up with blogging and getting back to the playlist blogs (if I still have yours, Christ, I am so sorry lol)
*I look forward to seeing what this new life brings me. Because it is A NEW LIFE. Something I have tried to explain more than once. I am not the same person I was three years ago. I am a whole new beast. And this is not the same life I had three years ago. This is a reboot. So everything is new. That is both amazing and utter weirdness. However, if you’re a writer worth their salt (at all, right writers?) you have to embrace new and strange and terrifying. It’s the only way to roll. And write.
XOXO
Sommer

Release Day for Submitting!

Wow! Two blogs in two days. I'm really on the ball. :)

I'm popping in to say today is release day for the new HarperCollins Mischief anthology Submitting. This little number contains my story Your Assignment which was an utter blast to write. I had a lot of fun with that one.

Below is a bit about the book. You'll note there are some fab authors in this collection including Justine Elyot. Lovely to share pages with her again.

Grab a copy for this weekend. It's supposed to be hot, but it could be hotter...

XOXO
Sommer

Kinky games and arrangements abound in this Mischief collection of original erotic fiction.
In Submitting, the fun, thrills and pleasures of surrendering to that special lover, or lovers, is explored imaginatively and intensely in eight original stories, written by some of the best erotica authors writing today, including Justine Elyot, Sommer Marsden, Lily Harlem and Rose de Fer.

Me and My Boi Blog Tour

Hey, ho, folks, long time no blog. What can I say?...Life. I've actually acquired one lately. :) That being said, I'm here with a blog tour post for Sacchi Green's new anthology Me and My Boi, and woohoo! I'm in it! ***UPDATE*** Comment here for a chance to win a copy of Me and My Boi.

I'm supposed to say something about my story Bennie. So I'll tell you my favorite tidbit about this particular story. It was the impossible story. When I first talked to Sacchi and read the call for this book I thought...no way. I don't think I can write something for this particular book. My first instinct was that I didn't grasp the theme well enough and as a writer you always want to do your topic justice. Always. I even told Sacchi that. She was gracious and understood. So...that was that.

But see, it wasn't. The moment I said I didn't think I could, this story started whispering in my head. After a day of that, I think I sent Sacchi an email and said..."Well...maybe..."

The next day the story was shouting in my head and I sat down and wrote the whole damn thing in one sitting. I think I turned it in a few days later after a spit and polish, so to speak. That's what makes Bennie a favorite story of mine--it shouldn't exist, and yet it does. I said no, and something in my mind said, actually yes. Those kinds of stories are gold for me personally. They make being  writer fun and exciting. They're the best kind of writing adventure. The ones you'd never think you could write that then immediately demand to be created.

The full tour link list is below. Go back, go forward, time travel, be a timelord! ;) Happy Hump Day, ya'll.

XOXO
Sommer


Excerpt:



BennieSommer Marsden
I watched Bennie the way I did every morning. Stomping out of her house in her big work boots. She walked like she had a vendetta against the world and the way she carried herself never failed to turn me on. She clutched a to-go mug of coffee and rooted in her deep pockets for her car keys. Every morning she did this and every morning I enjoyed the ritual.I sat inside my apartment, watching her as I drank from my Snoopy mug. My computer whirred gently and my freelance work waited and yet…I watched her.I had this fantasy, had had it for ages, where she’d stalk over here instead of to her car. She’d rap on the door hard enough to make me jump instead of root for her keys. She’d ask me out on a date instead of driving off to work.It had yet to happen. Would probably never happen. But I had the fantasy anyway. It went on from there. Her coming to pick me up for said date in her black fitted trousers and her leather vest. The one she only wore to special events. Semi-casual, she’d once laughed when I complimented her on it. I’d been getting the mail, she’d been heading out for the night. I’d blushed as if I’d asked her to drop to her knees and go down on me instead of complimenting her outfit. It had taken everything in me to do it and yet I’d forced myself. Then I’d watched her pull away in her ’66 Mustang coupe—white to her almost consistently black ensembles. After she’d gone, I’d damn near staggered into the house, dropped to the sofa, shoved my hand into my panties and gotten myself off, not once, but twice. Just remembering her clear blue eyes on me and the way she’d laughed. It made me want to kiss her, that laugh. It made me want to fuck.I’d let the curtain drop so when the doorbell rang I damn near swallowed my own tongue. A peek through the window showed me Bennie and I found my feet had disappeared on me. I couldn’t feel them at all. Nor my lips. My face was on its way to being numb as well, but I forced my hands to work the lock and then turn the door knob.“Hey, hi,” I stammered. “What’s up, Bennie?”She had no idea. She was clueless. She didn’t know that as we stood there I was wet inside my panties, frantic and nervous inside my stomach.“Car,” she growled. “Won’t start. And…” she patted her pocket and a clicking sound arose. “Phone’s dead. You’d think I would remember to charge it, right? I have no home line.” She stared at me.And? And? My mind scrambled for words. Finally, she did that little half smile thing of hers that always made me want to drop to my knees and beg her to notice me. She ran a hand through her close cropped dark hair and said, “So…Ava…”“Yes?” Damn if I didn’t sound breathless. It was mortifying.“Can I use your phone to call a tow?”My heart kicked in my chest, hard. I realized my stupidity. How silly I must have looked. “Of course!” I chirped. “I’m so sorry. Clearly I need more coffee.” I was babbling as I hurried to the kitchen to grab the portable home line. My cell was dead too, so that made us two for two in the dead cell department.When I turned she had come in right behind me. Standing so close to me, I could see the green striations around the pupil in her blue eyes. I could smell some sandalwood scent on her skin and the clean generic smell of shampoo and soap. I could see up close what those lips looked like in that little twist of a half-smile.She took the phone from me and her fingers brushed my hand. I jolted and then tittered nervously when she noticed. “I didn’t hear you come,” I said. Then caught my words and had enough presence of mind to feel my cheeks flame red in an instant.“Oh, you would.” She laughed. “Thanks.” 

Me and My Boi Blog Tour Links
June 12—Sacchi Green— www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 13—Annabeth Leong-- http://annabethleong.blogspot.com/2016/06/me-and-my-boi-not-just-hair.html
June 14—Anna Watson— www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 15—Sinclair Sexsmith-- www.sugarbutch.net
June 16—Jove Belle-- https://jovebelle.com/
June 17—Tamsin Flowers-- www.tamsinflowers.com
June 18—Victoria Villasenor— https://breywillows.com
June 19—J, Caladine—www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 20—Victoria Janssen-- http://victoriajanssen.com
June 21—Dena Hankins--  http://denahankins.net/my-summer-of-boi/
June 22—D. Orchid—www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 23—Pavini Moray-- https://emancipatingsexuality.com/
June 24—Melissa Mayhew—www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 25—Jen Cross— www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 26—Kyle Jones-- www.butchtastic.net
June 27—Gigi Frost--www.facebook.com/gigifrostwww.facebook.com/gigifrost
June 28—Aimee Hermann— www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 29—Sommer Marsden—www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
June 30—Axa Lee—www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com
July 1— Kathleen Bradean— www.sacchi-green.blogspot.com

Playlist Blog #4: Kiki Howell

Hey! Look at that. I remembered! It's Friday and here I am with the next playlist blog. Today it's my super sweet, super talented friend Kiki Howell. Not only does she write bad ass books but she's a bad ass yoga buff-soon-to-be-instructor. Sweet.

I hope that makes sense. My brain is running on fumes. Senior week has officially ended as of end of the picnic today and tomorrow brings...SWEET SWEET NOTHING! Party on, Wayne.

XOXO
Sommer





Kiki (A Little Light): Steven HowellI will Not Bow or Dear Agony: Breaking BenjaminFamily Tree: Matthew WestClose My Eyes Forever: Lita Ford & Ozzy OsbourneGlitter in the Air: PinkBring Me To Life: Evanescence
I know, a very eclectic list, but with the darker paranormal romance that I write, I’m often looking for a mood, or a song to put me into a certain emotional state, to get deeper in touch with my characters. Sometimes they have to rise up and fight, and others they need to wrestle with the weights of their worlds. And yes, the first one was written by my husband for me, so it just inspires me to do what I do before I start.
Hidden Salem: Salem Series Book 1, An Amazon Top 100 Bestseller in Paranormal, Ghosts, Suspense, and Witch & Wizard Thrillers Intuition alone brought Makayla to Salem, MA in search of a story, but her research has her confronting more than she bargained for. With her empathic gifts stronger in Witch City, she physically suffers, landing her literally unconscious in the arms of both Noah Ayers, local cop and Dylan Baines, local history teacher. Yet, it is Lauri, a witch who owns a local shop, who teaches Makayla about who she is and what she can do. Unfortunately for all of them, Makayla also stumbles upon a coven in the woods practicing a dark magic ritual. Now they are after her, threatening her life and the lives of those she has quickly come to care about. Immersed in things she never expected, like an old legend and necromancy due to residual hauntings, the race is on to stay safe from the coven and protect her heart from a certain sexy cop. But, is Lauri correct in thinking Makayla might just have encountered the only real witch in Salem in 1692? And, do they share the same bloodline? http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00F2RRPUE Salem’s Revenge: Salem Series Book 2, A Top 10 Bestseller in Witch & Wizard Thrillers In this sequel to the Amazon Bestseller, Hidden Salem, the story resumes one year later, another present day October, in Salem, MA. Filled with the same cross of pagan and paranormal elements, as well as suspense and occult horror weaved into Book One in the Salem Series, Book Two also contains touches of romance, giving readers a sweet addition to the spells and rituals. Denise Daniels came to Salem, MA to be in her best friend, Makayla’s wedding, but her matron of honor duties find her confronting more than she bargained for. In her first moments in Witch City, she’s greeted by a corpse used in a gruesome reanimation ritual. Without warning, the final week of wedding preparations becomes mixed with a quick introduction to Wiccan practices, including necromancy used to communicate with the dead, as attacks by a mysterious, new coven seeking revenge increase. Denise soon becomes immersed in things she never expected, including automatisms—drawing elaborate pictures of two women in red cloaks in the woods—a pretty impressive feat for a girl who has only drawn stick figures prior. As Denise tries to find her place in this world of magic, she discovers her own connection to the Salem of 1692. And, while losing the battle to save her heart from a romance that can never be, she ends up fighting to save her life. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00X371GN2 Author Bio: Ever since she was young, Kiki Howell has loved to listen to a well-woven tale with real characters, inspired plots, and delightful resolutions. Kiki could spend hours lost in a book, and soon she knew that creating lives, loves, and losses with just words had to be the greatest thing that she could do. To that end, she pursued her study of literature and writing, earning a bachelor’s degree in English. She then followed in a Master’s program in Creative Writing. She has now had over forty stories published between eleven different publishers.  She could not be more thrilled or grateful to see her creations polished and out in the real world. In May, 2011, Kiki was chosen as an Ohioana Book Festival author for her novel, Torn Asunder. She's also had three flash fiction stories win writing contests. Since the fall of 2013, she’s had several stories hit Amazon Bestsellers Lists in categories like Paranormal, Suspense, Gothic Fiction. and Occult Horror.
You can find out more about Kiki at:Website http://www.kikihowell.com/FaceBook https://www.facebook.com/kikihowell

Playlist Blog #3: Annabeth Leong

Happy Monday! My intention was to start these playlist blogs and do two a week like clockwork. Um...then prom/graduation season hit. And THEN all these other thing get tacked on. I'll say what I said on Twitter a few weeks ago: What no one tells you about high school graduation is that even before prom hits it's like a rocket ride. And you're not strapped on. And the rocket is on fire!

The good news is I survived this weekend. Saturday being prom (sob!) and Sunday being an art reception for girl child because her work was chosen for a student showing at the Baltimore Museum of Art. Today is a last minute hunt for an all white dress (a quest I just found out about yesterday :/ ) for Friday.

The rocket is still on fire and still going a million miles an hour but I'm back with a playlist blog featuring Annabeth Leong. I'll attempt to be punctual with the remaining posts, but I know I'll fail. So check back often for more playlist blogs because I have more on deck.

XOXO
Sommer



The book:Untouched: A Sensory Voyage of Voyeurism and Discovery
The playlist:Untouched: The VeronicasA Little Death: The NeighbourhoodAll Time Low: Nine Inch NailsLust: Tori AmosEye: Smashing Pumpkins


The Excerpt: Eli moaned and fell to his knees on the hotel carpet. "I won't go," he said. "Just let me touch you with the tip of my finger. Just for a second, and I won't go." It was almost disturbing to see him that way, his hard, finely sculpted face cut by the flaw lines of need—lips parted, brow wrinkled, cheeks drawn high and tight.
Celia dug her heels into the mattress, tensing every muscle in her body to hold herself in place. She wanted to do this for him. "Just... just move as slowly as you can," she told him.
She held her pussy open, her clit framed by her fingers. She knew he needed to touch her there. A brush against the sole of her foot wouldn't mean enough to him.
Her clit seemed to grow by the second, swelling and beating until it felt like the only part of her body that was really in the room anymore. Celia had broken her own hymen with an oversized dildo years before. She had taken her own ass with a set of graduated plugs, then progressed from there to anal hooks and more. It seemed ludicrous to think of herself as a virgin—she wasn't shy about her body, ignorant, or inexperienced.
In this moment, however, staring into Eli's eyes as he crawled toward her with one fingertip outstretched, Celia knew he was about to claim her in a way that no one had before. Never in her life had she let another person touch her pussy in any way. That had always been absolutely and exclusively her own.
She held her breath as he inched closer. She didn't know how she had lived so long without doing this, or how she had lasted so long without doing this with him. Her teeth chattered from the effort of holding still. If he'd been about to kiss her clit with fire, she wouldn't have had a harder time staying in place for him.
"Don't touch me until I say you can," Celia whispered. She wanted to do this, and Eli needed it from her, but she still didn't know if she could go through with it.
Additional details: The book is about a person who can't stand to be touched but is very sexual, so a lot of these songs include lines about touch. For example, the chorus of "A Little Death" ("I want you to touch me there...") ran through my head for days on end while I was writing. The playlist is short because while I'm writing I'll play things on repeat for hours on end.
Links for the book:
Amazon US
Barnes and Noble
Social Media:
Twitter: @AnnabethLeong
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Bio:
Annabeth Leong is frequently confused about her sexuality but enjoys searching for answers. She writes about a range of orientations, in stories from sweet to dark, though recently she has gravitated toward writing lesbian fiction.

She frequents the haunts of H.P. Lovecraft, lives in the midst of a teetering tower of piled-up books, and can often be found at the rock climbing gym.

She has performed her work at events both kinky and literary, including Sticky Stories Boston, Readercon, the Fetish Fair Flea Market, and Bound in Boston. She hopes to win Providence Sex Trivia one day, but so far she's had to satisfy herself with second place.

Playlist Blog #2: C. Garrett

Good morning, good morning! It’s Friday…the 13th, no less. Thirteen’s always been a lucky number for me and today it’s a lucky day for you, too. Today’s guest C. Garrett is offering up a playlist and…I just found out that the book The Neighbor’s Son is currently FREE for a few days. So…bonus!
Happy Freaking Friday, Folks. I’m happy it’s Friday. This week has been full of somewhat hilarious events (unless you’re actually me). I’ve been bruised up and banged up, most current was when I dropped my iPad on my foot yesterday like a mini guillotine. That bruise goes nicely with the ones all up and down my legs from climbing on the washing machine last week to see why it was leaking, and the one on my arm where I got tangled in my own pj pants on Mother’s Day and fell over like a giant redwood and banged my arm all to hell on the dresser. And oh yeah! Last night I smacked a fruit fly on the wall and our giant clock fell off, crashed down, hit my wine glass, shattered it, and glass and wine went everywhere. [HULK SMASH!].
I think I might download a free book today, wrap myself in bubble wrap, and hide from, well, everything, until Monday. J
Be safe out there! Or in there! Just be safe…
XOXOSommer
~~~~
Playlist:
Broken Crown: Mumford and SonsDark Days: TD Lind & Bernie LarsenDay is Gone: Noah Gunderson and The Forest RangersIf I Ever Leave This World Alive: Flogging MollyBlack: Karri KimmelGoodnight, Travel Well: The Killers


The Neighbor’s Son: A Gay May/December Erotic Romance

After forty year old Ladd Mason’s husband dies, it takes him months to care about anything again. During his grief the home they shared turns to ruin. He finally makes it a priority to put things right. It’s a big job for one man, and he recruits the help of his neighbor’s son, home on college break, to get the job done. He knew twenty-something Damon Green was looking for odd jobs, but much to Ladd’s surprise, the young man is looking for so much more than the chance to earn beer money.
Excerpt:“I think I need to move this, Ladd,” Damon said softly.
“Yeah,” he tried but his throat clogged. He cleared it harshly and stepped forward. “I’ll do that,” he said. He hated how his voice sounded. Rusty and wounded. It made his heart ache worse than it did every time he glanced at the picture. It showed Ladd and Christopher grinning from a fishing pier. It had been there first vacation together to Key West. They’d gone back every year until Christopher’s health made it impossible.
His hands were shaking. He took the frame and gently placed it on the table. Ladd found himself convulsively swallowing to keep the tears that threatened so violently at bay.
A large warm hand closed on his shoulder and squeezed. “Hey, Ladd, you know it’s okay if you cry right? I remember, even though I was really little, my mom crying a lot and often for a long time after my dad died. Years, even, if my memory can be trusted.” Damon squeezed again, a comforting touch, and went on. “And to tell the truth, sometimes she still cries for him. Especially, this time of year. The holidays can do it every time.”
Ladd felt himself nodding and nodding, relentlessly. He felt stupid and out of control but couldn’t seem to help himself. He set the picture frame on the dining room table. When he turned, Damon surprised him by pulling him in for a hug. He was much younger than Ladd, so it startled him that he was so much taller. He hadn’t realized. Damon tucked his head atop Ladd’s and his arms grew impossibly tight around him. Ladd stiffened for just an instant and then, caught off guard by the sudden ferocity of his grief, relented and hugged the young man back.
The caring gesture had a calming effect and Ladd was relieved that he was able to pull himself back from the brink of a crying jag so quickly. When he lifted his head to thank Damon he caught a look on his handsome face for just an instant before another unexpected thing happened. Damon kissed him. Ladd’s heart beat turned to a staggering beat when he found himself kissing the boy back. Meeting Damon’s soft mouth with his own. He knew he should stop, but felt powerless to stop.
When he felt Damon’s fingers brush the zipper of his jeans, he froze. Ladd took a step back, a hand planted on the boy’s broad chest. Beneath his fingers he could feel the runaway beat of Damon’s heart.
“Damon—”
Damon’s eyes were intense up close. Vibrant green with flecks of hazel, blue and gray. Ladd thought he’d never seen eyes that intricate before.
Damon cupped the back of Ladd’s head, tugging him in for another kiss. Just as their lips met, he said, “Shh. Just let me make it better. No one should hurt for this long alone.”
It’s wrong. So, so wrong…Ladd’s mind raced. But it didn’t feel wrong. It felt welcome and gorgeous and warm. The first time he’d experienced those things in too long to remember.
Damon’s hand brushed up his zipper again, making his cock jerk beneath the touch. Damon popped the button with amazingly deft fingers and drew the zipper down. Ladd struggled for breath, trying to process that this was actually happening. And should he let it continue?
He pulled back, stilling the hand on his zipper. He felt the hard brush of his fingers and Damon’s pressing his aching cock. His breath was fast and harsh, his mind fuzzy with longing.
“I can’t do this. I’m paying you. You’re my neighbor’s son!”
Damon cocked an eyebrow and moved his hands. He planted them on Ladd’s shoulders. Ladd felt the absence of them on his fly. Felt the lust he’d experienced earlier ramp up a notch or three.
“You’re paying me for this,” Damon said, waving a hand at the walls and the paint supplies. “Not that. Look, Ladd, I’ve known I was gay since I was twelve, my mom’s known since I was thirteen. Now…” He sifted his fingers through the hair at the back of Ladd’s neck and it provoked a shiver. The shiver made the younger man smile. “Now you know. Okay?”
Bio:C. Garrett lives on the east coast in a tiny house ruled by a big gray cat. A true hermit, C. has yet to dip a toe in the social media pond, focusing instead on telling tales of people falling in love. There’s usually a cup of tea and some window gazing involved.
Links:Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Neighbors-Son-December-Erotic-Romance-ebook/dp/B01C98WQ0MAmazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Neighbors-Son-December-Erotic-Romance-ebook/dp/B01C98WQ0M

Playlist Blog #1: Bianca Sommerland

 A while ago I posted this image. It took me long enough but today is the first installment of author playlist blogs! #1 is Bianca Sommerland. Stay tuned because there's more to come!XOXOSommer
This is such a cool freakin'idea! Thanks so much for having me, Sommer! J
Music is a HUGE part of my writing process. Different song fit so perfectly I'll just put them on repeat. Here’s a few of the most listened to while writing Backlash (Winter's Wrath #1)
Break the Cycle: Motionless in WhiteAngel Eyes: New Years Day (Feat MIW)Say You'll Haunt Me: Stone SourWhat you Gonna Do?: HinderGood Enough: Jussie SmollettState of my Head: ShinedownRemember Everything: Five Finger Death PunchA Tous Le Monde-Megadeth
Since I LOVE Heavy Metal and wanted my metalcore book to have a gritty edge, there had to be a good mix of very powerful, ear-shattering compositions, and deeply emotional tunes. Many of the song resonated with more than one character, which made them even more valuable.
Musicians, like writers, are artists. Which is probably why we often inspire one another! <g>


Excerpt:
Strumming the guitar, as though re-familiarizing himself with the instrument, Jesse ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing, Alder.”“Yeah, I only do it around Malakai. Not for any special reason.” Alder curved a hand around the back of his neck, digging his fingers into the muscles. “Helps when we’re putting all the pieces of the songs together.”“Does Brave know?”“No. Everyone leaves us alone when we’re composing.” Alder rolled his shoulders. “Look, don’t make a big deal about this. Brave wants three songs ready to start recording in Detroit. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have been doing this out in the open.”Jesse inclined his head. “So he’s gotten more lyrics written?”“Nope. Just the one song. But it’s ready.”“Cool.” Jesse glanced over at Danica, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I’d play that for you—give you an exclusive preview of the next album, but I’m a little rusty. Mind hearing something I’ve played before so I don’t completely embarrass myself?”She reached out and patted his knee, giving him a crooked grin. “The two hottest guys on this tour are about to perform for me. I’ll take whatever you give me.”Crimson spread over the tops of Jesse’s cheeks. “That sounded suggestive as hell.”Alder looked from Jesse to her, his brow furrowed. “What?”“Nothing, hot stuff.” Danica took Alder’s hand, lacing their fingers together. One of the things she loved about the man was how clueless he was about his own appeal. “Just the usual. Everyone wants you.”He snorted, casting an amused look at Jesse, as though he expect his best friend to laugh as well. When Jesse didn’t, he cleared his throat. “All right, how about music? Do you know ‘A Tous Le Monde’?”“Megadeth? Fuck, of course I know it.” Jesse played a few unfamiliar notes on the guitar. Apparently the right ones, because Alder nodded. “Let’s do this, ‘hot stuff’.”Both men were blushing a little, and Danica wanted to pat herself on the back. Fine, this didn’t mean anything serious, but they were closer than she’d ever seen them. What happened later today, or tomorrow, didn’t matter. Brave couldn’t use Jesse to lash out at Alder, while carelessly trampling on Jesse’s feelings, if he wasn’t coming between them.As Jesse played the guitar, and Alder began to sing, the beauty of the music tightened her throat. They were both too damn modest. Jesse had a natural talent and his fingers moved over the strings as if he’d been born to hold that guitar in his hands.But even that didn’t compare to the sound of Alder’s voice. He didn’t have the immeasurable power Brave possessed, but his tone was deep and soulful, drawing emotion into every word, the raw expression of longing he brought out making goose bumps rise all over her flesh.
Buy Backlash (Winter's Wrath #1) on Amazon: http://www.im-no-angel.com/backlash-winters-wrath-1.html
For other links and the first three chapters of Backlash, check out the book's page: http://www.im-no-angel.com/backlash-winters-wrath-1.html
Author Bio:
Bianca Sommerland was born and raised in Montreal, Quebec. When not reading neurotically or writing as though the fate of the world rests on her keyboard, she is either watching hockey or teaching her daughters the beauty of a classic, steel pony while reminiscing about her days in Auto Body Mechanics.
Her time is balanced with utmost care between normal family life, and the internal paranormal realm where her characters reside. For the most part, she succeeds. 
Follow Bianca Sommerland on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Im-No-Angel-Bianca-Sommerland-201933239834387
Connect on twitter: https://twitter.com/BSommerland