As usual, my books seem to arrive all at once and then tumble all over each other like a pack (group? murder? clouding? school?) of baby pandas. Aren't they cute?
But that's okay! I'm really excited about The Accidental Cougar coming out April 25th from Excessica and now I'm also really happy that Poster Boy for Average is coming out May 2nd from Ellora's Cave! Woohoo! Cover coming soon, I hope :)
Meanwhile, here's the lovely placeholder cover and the blurb and the link to the page where you can Wishlist my book. See that, I turned wishlist into a verb. You are welcome.
photographer and book cover artist Aubrey Singleton is living up to her
last name. A long summer at the lake has cured her of her recent
breakup, and she’s embracing life as a single woman. What she’s not
prepared for is to come back home to find she has a handsome new single neighbor.
Sykes is a roofer—though he’s afraid of heights—a father of two and
recently divorced. Oh and one might classify him as smoking hot.
photographer in Aubrey is smitten, the single woman in her is
breathless. She’s ready to make Mike a star—on book covers and, though
she’s wary of a broken heart, in her life. He’s not so sure. Mike sees
himself as a life complication due to his younger son’s illness, and not
hot by a long shot. In fact, he thinks he’s the poster boy for average.
Inside Scoop:Breathtaking sex, an ex hesitant to let him go and a “business” trip to
Key West, rife with hunky models, set a backdrop for a shot at true love…
Hey...he kisses her wrist. Don't judge me. (I chose this excerpt because it is just plump with desire. And who can resist that?)
It's Sunday Snog time and I'm here with just a tiny little taste of my soon-to-be-released The Accidental Cougar! I'm so excited for this book I can hardly stand myself. It's out April 25th from Excessica. Happy Sunday...
didn’t say no,” he said, touching my hand but only briefly.
I asked. Because I simply had to know.
shrugged, coming around to stand in front of me again. His jeans were low on
his hips. Not too tight, not too loose. And God, how I wanted to see them off
him. “Because I want to see you. I want to touch you. Smell you. Kiss you…”
was mesmerizing. I felt hypnotized. The snake to his charmer. The nail to his
magnet. The dog to his whistle. The last fleeting thought made me laugh.
funny?” he asked, cocking his head. But he seemed amused, not offended.
I shook my head. “My own panicked thoughts are amusing.”
on. I swear to you. No sex. Think of it as an appetizer. In fact,” he wound his
fingers through mine and heat seared along my skin. It was like being burned in
the most luscious and sensual way. “I promise you that if—no, when—you want that sex you’re so dead
set against, I won’t let you. I will, in fact, turn you down.”
I was laughing in earnest. “Oh, yeah?”
turned my hand in his and kissed the underside of my wrist. The skin there was
fragile and sensitive and the pressure of his lips was nearly overwhelming.
Just talking to him, watching his body language and hearing his voice, had me
panting slightly. Wanting a kiss. Wanting him to touch me. Christ, wanting so
much more and then some.
Every time I think I've plumbed the depths (sounds dirty, yes?) of Alison Tyler's quirky genius she surprises me. We did a Q&A for my new novel Lost in You. She Q-ed, I A-ed, and what we ended up with was one of the most delightful blog tour spots I've ever done.
The Accidental Cougar is coming soon. In just about two weeks! And that means so is its blog tour. Mark your calendars. Come read excerpts, guest blogs and more. I can't wait to introduce Abby and Charlie to the world :)
I love, love, love smut for a good cause. So that's why we're here today. Add curves to that and I'm a happy camper. Below you'll find the info on Smut for Good: Curves Rule. Below that you'll find an excerpt from my curvy short Nothing But The Boots. Below that you'll find the blurb. What am I giving away? Why a copy of my curvy one-booted sexy story of course (It was an ARe bestseller in the Rubenesque category) and your choice of novel from my back list. Want to know what happens? Well, you could win.
Have I tempted you? Hope so!
Comment on this post between April 7th and the 13th for a chance to win. * Please be sure to included your email address when you comment. Thank you and happy Monday!
Smut for Good: Curves Rule is a blog hop with prizes galore to raise
funds for Parkinson’s UK as this is Parkinson’s Awareness week. To find
more curves, and seek out further prizes please visit http://smutters.co.uk/smut-for-good and if you can take a minute to please visit the Smut for Good: Curves Rule Just Giving Page at http://www.justgiving.com/curvesrule
and donate whatever you can to help us reach our target of £100 to
raise awareness of Parkinson’s and to support the charity Parkinson’s UK
http://www.parkinsons.org.uk/ who help those with the disease learn to cope with the challenges, give out information and search for a cure.
From NOTHING BUT THE BOOTS by Sommer Marsden
Cat realized she was holding her breath. Her kimono had gaped open a bit and she watched his gaze travel over her outline. His eyes on her was as tangible as a touch and a stroke. She shifted and her kimono gaped.
“Admit what?” she said, a bit too fast.
“I only had eyes for you that night.”
“And now your eyes are on me again,” she laughed, feeling her heart bang crazily.
“Because you’re standing in the sun and I can see right through that robe,” he admitted.
“Oh … God. I’m sorry!” she blurted.
“I don’t mind,’ he said and blushed.
Cat cleared her throat. “Ready for your first assignment?”
“Help me get out of this damn boot.”
Greg chuckled lowly and her stomach sizzled with the sound. She went to the bed and sat down. She put her leg up, her calf muscle standing out and her skin flushed with her arousal. “Ready?” he asked.
Cat nodded and was surprised – to the point of jumping a bit – when he first took his hand and ran it down her leg from her knee, over her calf, to the place where that damnable boot remained stuck. His fingers curled slowly into the lip and he caught the purple fake-fabric-from-hell (as she now thought of it) and he tugged gently, inching the boot down, a bit here, a bit there.
She tried to hold the robe closed and not seem turned on. She was failing. Her body was tensing with the effort of acting as if this was just no big deal.
“You have to relax,” he whispered, giving her the smile that had so captivated her at that singles event. He’d been so handsome and mysterious she’d even considered attending other parties to try and catch another glimpse of him. She hadn’t though, figuring someone as cute as him would have snagged a girl by now.
“Relax,” he said again.
“I’m trying!” she blurted.
When he bent his head and kissed the inside of her knee her whole body seemed to sigh with pleasure. Her mouth popped open in surprise and she shivered.
“It will make this all easier.”
He inched and wiggled and pulled and she-finally, finally! – felt the boot sliding grudgingly down her leg.
“You have very nice legs,” he said, touching her muscle.
It jumped and fluttered and so did she. “Thank you. God, don’t touch me,” she sighed.
He laughed. “I’m sorry. Am I fired?”
“Am I hurting you?”
“Far from it.”
Greg went still and his cool appraising eyes met hers. “Then what?”
She shook her head. He tugged.
“What if I said please? Would you tell me then?”
He was almost to her ankle and suddenly she was afraid of when the boot did come off. “Nope.”
“Please?” he said anyway.
“You’re turning me on,” she sighed. “But then you knew that, didn’t you?”
An erotic short story by bestselling author Sommer Marsden.
Full figured fashion buyer Cat gets in a sticky situation the day her
new assistant is set to arrive. So what will handsome, well-mannered
Greg think when he finds his new boss in one purple boot, a kimono and
nothing else? Not what Cat's expecting him to think. Not at all.
Lost in You came out during my birthday writerversary extravaganza thing. I have yet to put up a proper snippet. It's been a hell of a week but I'm home today, no running to be done, and I figured it was long overdue.
As penance for waiting so long I've made sure to put up an extra spicy, truly NSFW section from LIY for your perusal. It's been doing pretty well on Amazon US and UK and is getting some lovely reviews on both those sites as well as on Goodreads. *cough* Not that I'm stalking it or anything...
Anyway, here we go. Enough jabbering. Here's a blurb, that excerpt I promised and the buy links that are currently available.
Happy Friday! My T25 program came today so I intend to spend the next three days eating all the food and drinking all the wine. Don't bother me unless it's an emergency ;)
Love is Priceless
Trapped inside a luxury mall during a violent storm,
small town girl, Clover Brite, is thrust into the arms of international
playboy Dorian Martin. Lighting strikes inside the building as well as
Clover is the site manager for the renovation of the Baltimore
Rotunda and first meets the owner, Dorian, when the 'storm of the
century' traps the two of them inside the luxury mall. Upscale stores
surround them and all are available at the end of Dorian's keyring, and
though money doesn't impress her much, they begin to fall for each
Too aware of the differences between them and struggling with angst
from her childhood, Clover flees back to her small town world. Dorian
follows in hot pursuit. But will Clover realise that what happened that
stormy night could lead to a future?
I kissed him frantically. His forehead, his cheeks, his lips. He worked
my sweater up over my belly and leaned to kiss me there. The heat of his
mouth on my somewhat chilled skin was electric. Dorian dropped small
gentle kisses along my skin, travelling higher until tremors hit me
again but for an entirely different reason. His mouth closed over my
nipple and a lusty sigh slipped out of me. I was wet. That fast. Very
wet, wetter than I remembered being from something as simple as
strategically placed kisses.
‘Do you think I’m a heel?’ He dragged his tongue from my left breast
to my right. His free hand was warm against my waist where he simply
‘Do people even say “heel” any more?’
chuckled. I forgot to laugh when his mouth closed possessively over my
right nipple. Dorian sucked and I felt that drawing, tugging sensation
all the way to the centre of me.
He stroked the skin above my newly pilfered jeans and I had a moment
when I simply prayed he’d slip his hand further down. Beneath the
waistband. To find that wetness I’d become so aware of.
‘No, people don’t. I spent too much time listening to my mother and
grandmother talk.’ He moved up to kiss me on the mouth again. Still
touching me with strong, sure fingers as he thrust his tongue against
mine once more.
‘You spend a lot of time around women.’ I touched his dark hair. I
really touched it, sifted my fingers through it and stroked it as I
kissed him back. I wanted to touch him everywhere now that this had
The lights flickered like an old movie stuttering. For the first time I
didn’t care. If we lost power, I’d just keep kissing him. Just keep
‘Not like you. None of the women I’ve been around are even remotely
like you.’ He moved to pull the sweater over my head and without even
missing a beat, I raised my arms for him to do so. ‘You really trust me,
It was hard to read his gaze. I touched his jaw, nodded. ‘Yes. Does that bother you?’
It humbles me.’ The sweater came off and I was bare beneath. My poor
sodden cami lay abandoned by the front door of the building. His grin
went right to my belly, making me feel as if I were falling.
‘I’m going to shut up now,’ I said.
‘Me too.’ Dorian pulled
his T-shirt over his head and looked down at me. ‘I feel like there’s a
casting-couch joke in here somewhere.’
I touched his bottom lip and his tongue darted out to touch my skin. ‘I thought we weren’t talking.’
‘Sorry. I do tend to break rules.’ Another grin that felt like a
flash-fire along my skin. How a simple smile could shut my brain down
that way was new to me.
I ran my hand along the hard evidence of
his arousal. My fingers curled round the ridge of his erection and he
let his eyes drift shut and sighed. But then he snagged my wrist and
pinned it down, pressing himself to me, kissing my throat so my nipples
turned to hard knots of flesh. His chest was warm against my breasts and
he moved his body over mine, pinning me there. Dorian rocked his hips
back and forth against me, his cock riding the split of my sex. The
pressure and friction were breathtaking.
If this was what the foreplay felt like, I wasn’t sure I’d survive the sex itself. But I was eager to find out.
Hi, hi, hi. It's Saturday (cheer) but it's gray (boo). Bottom line is I am suffering post party blues since my 9 Years of Sommer party ended yesterday but guess what? No need to be blue. We have an extra bonus guest today and an extra bonus prize.
BA Tortuga is here with a blog about her brand new book Terms of Release, a pie recipe of all things, and a $20 Amazon gift card giveaway.
So leave a comment, say hi, tell us your favorite pie or anything else that might tickle your fancy for a chance to win. *Be sure to leave your email address so we can contact you if you win!
Now, I give the blog over to the lovely, talented and oh so kind BA Tortuga :)
* * * * *
The Importance of Pie
First, let me say EEEE! I’m on Sommer’s
Okay, now that that’s all over. ;-)
I’m so tickled about my upcoming
release from Dreamspinner Press, called Terms of Release. They’re a new
publisher for me, and I wrote a slice of life sort of novel about Sage, a
cowboy who made a terrible mistake as a teenager, and paid his debt to society,
and Win, a sheriff’s deputy who doesn’t think people should hate Sage for what
happened when he was a kid.
One of the things I explore in Terms of
Release is how someone who’s led a very regimented sort of life needs routine.
Sage, once he begins to branch out a tiny bit, goes to a diner run by bikers
Wilma and Bulldog, and has a cup of coffee and pie a couple times a week.
Never seems to matter what sort of pie.
Banana cream, chocolate, pecan. Just give Sage a piece of pie and a good book
to read, and he’s a happy man.
Pie is important to Sage. Not just
because it’s part of his routine, but because it speaks to the child in him, to
the innocent kid he was when he left Texas for California, and to the rare joy
he experienced after that, during those holiday meals where a piece of bad pie
from a prison cafeteria was the one thing a man looked forward to all year.
Not that Sage would be able to
articulate any of that. He’s just a cowboy, and what he knows is what he knows.
Me, though, I know how important pie
Here’s one of my favorites:
Best Ever Gluten Free Coconut Pie
·3 eggs, beaten
·1 1/2 cups sugar
·1/2 cup butter or margarine, melted
·4 teaspoons fresh lemon juice
·1 teaspoon vanilla
·1 1/3 cups grated coconut (3 ounce can)
·1 gluten free unbaked pie pastry, 9-inch, Whole Foods has a good
oven to 350°. Combine eggs, sugar, butter, lemon juice, vanilla, and salt; mix
well. Stir in coconut; pour into pie shell and bake for 30 minutes. Shield the
crust edge with a pie shield ring or fashion one with aluminum foil and place
over edge. Bake for 10 to 20 minutes longer, until set and no longer
As the pie bakes, a golden topping forms on the surface.
Chill thoroughly before serving. The pie will be gooey if served at room
temperature. Serves 6.
The Terms of Release is
releasing March 24, 2014 from Dreamspinner Press and I’m proud enough to bust.
They say a man can always come home. So after doing hard
time, Sage Redding heads to his family’s northeast Texas ranch to help his
ailing daddy with the cutting horses.
Adam (Win) Winchester is a county deputy and the cousin of one of the men
killed in the incident that sent Sage to prison for almost a decade. While
Win's uncles, Jim and Teddy, are determined to make Sage and the entire Redding
family pay for their loss, Win just figures Sage has paid his dues and maybe
needs a friend. Maybe he needs more than a friend. In fact, Win’s counting on
No one’s denying Sage is an ex-con who went to prison for manslaughter.
Regardless of the love he has for his father, he’s returned knowing things will
likely go badly for him. Maybe a man can always come home, but he may not be
able to stay.