Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Do. Not. Judge. Me.

Yes, yes, I was the woman driving down Harford Rd. with blue hair singing this at the top of her lungs. And yes! Doing a shameful but oh-so-fun seat dance a la Kevin Bacon. Do not judge me. :P


Blank is back...

Blank has been out for a while, so I always get a fresh new tingle when it scores another good review. Like this super nice one from Coffee Time Romance. Four cups.

Speaking of cups, I'm out of coffee and Aisling Weaver brought me a fancy new press this weekend, so off I go in search of beans. Not the magic kind but...well, they make me coherent in the morning, so I guess they actually are magic, yes?

Have a great Monday. It's hotter than Satan's butt hole here and it's not even 9 am. I anticipate hot, sticky, grumpy children coming home from school early due to heat index.


Monday, May 30, 2011

Happy Memorial Day

Until June 2nd I've put my short FIRE WOMAN for free on Smashwords if you have the nifty coupon code. How do you get the nifty coupon code? You follow this squiggly arrow~~~~~~~~~~~> VR97K

This story originally appeared in Alison Tyler's PLAYING WITH FIRE. A truly smoking hot book. Heh. See what I did there?

Feel free to spread the word and have a wonderful holiday. Thank a veteran!


Sunday, May 29, 2011

Long weekend addiction...

Boy child and I. Me? Whatever. Like monkeys on crack. We finish one and he says, "May I interest you in another, madame?" So how far up in the seven deadly sins is Sloth anyway?


Well, the fab Crig Sorensen made a suggestion in previous comments, and I gave them a shot. Still shunned by Blogger, though. It still won't let me into my own blog as me. I'll just continue for now to comment w/name and url. And plot my escape to wordpress methinks.

Busy, super weekend. First lunch w/Aisling Weaver (see blog below). Then Saturday more lunch/chat w/Aisling, who then, because she is wunnerful and persuasive got me to go across to Balticon and just say hi to a few folks. I do not know if I am allowed to say who, so I'll just say it was nice. Scary--for the likes of a shy bunny like me (an INFP don't ya know)--but I think I did okay. There were one or two folks at Balticon that I would have liked to meet, beyond those I did, but alas I was an illegal lobby dweller so I didn't push it.

I have written...zero words this weekend. I have not written since Thursday, and that both feels like the apocalypse and oddly freeing. Simultaneous doom and liberty. LOL. I figure today or tomorrow I'll get cracking since I have some deadlines looming, but for the past few days I just enjoyed meeting some new people (thusly conquering a fear I have of meeting people and being disappointing to them) and hanging out with family. Today, I plan to take my crew on a family date for some tasty nibbles and chatter at a local restaurant.

Hope you are having a great weekend, and take a moment to thank a veteran. You'd be amazed at what a simple thank you can do.


Friday, May 27, 2011

up note, down note

Let's start with the down note. Blogger will apparently let everyone but me comment on my blog. No matter what I do it makes me anonymous and when I say okay fine, shoots me back to log in. So I am getting your super nice comments and THANK YOU!! YOU ROCK!!

Now...up note!

Fabulous lunch with Aisling Weaver today. We had so much fun. Ever meet someone you feel like you've known forever, though you've never met. Yep, that was today. And I use the term 'lunch' loosely. It was four hours of chatter with a few waitress breaks.

I might even go to Balticon next year and there is a rumor of possible Romanticon attendance. Ahem. But we will have to plot. I mean discuss!


The first official review for WE KILL DEAD THINGS is out...

and it made me v. v. happy. I admit it. Five stars and nice words from Sizzling Hot Book Reviews. What more could a writer want? :)

This is the first book in the Zombie Exterminator Series and I can’t wait for book two! I’ve read a handful of Zombie books and they all seem mostly the same, yet this one is a breath of fresh air.

You can read the full review here.

p.s. Blogger STILL won't let me comment on my own blog. So to those of you who sent me nice comments yesterday/today etc, thank you! I would say it in comments, but apparently...um, I am not allowed!

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

my fucking comment

I can't comment. I am irritated. :/

Thank you Janeen for your nice comment. I have tried to thank you 4 times.

Jo, T and CJ, I had a mix of the three but a heavy influence on Domenick's part. What can I say. I love his energy in BK's. Hot, hot, hot in a slamyaupagainstawallkindaway. Whew.

Thusly ends my comment since my blog will not let me...you know...COMMENT!



Domenick Lombardozzi of Breakout Kings and...

Jason Stantham...

and Dwayne Johnson...

got together and had a baby. It would look like Johnny Rose. Who is Johnny Rose? Long story. And it starts here.

I promised Wanderlust readers I'd share my mental image. Now I have. You can thank me later ;)

Beyond that, today has been spent wrestling Createspace to get Gritty into print eventually and working on two paranormals. One short. One long. (((that's that she said))).

Happy Hump Day, y'all.


Tuesday, May 24, 2011

the little book that could does it again...

Every time I get a great review for this book (all 4.5 and 5's thus far if I'm not mistaken), I just shake my head. And remember that I almost ditched it. Eesh.

Sizzling Hot Book Reviews
gave me something beyond a flattering review, five stars and kind words. And when I read this:

"Learning to Drown has shown me what a wide range of writing Sommer Marsden can do from this extreme to the sweeter, yet still steamy, romance..."

I nearly had a girly moment. Why? Because acknowledging range is one of the biggest compliments you can give a writer.

Thanks to SHBR for taking the time to read and review me. :)


Monday, May 23, 2011

GRITTY Release Day!

We are up on ARe, Bookstrand, Smashwords, 1Place for Romance. We are coming soon (heh) to Amazon Kindle and soon, if I don't break Createspace, print.

Yay us. Here is a photo:

And here is some blurbage:

Includes gritty fiction by: Quinn Gabriel * Willsin Rowe * Rita Winchester * Alison Tyler * Sommer Marsden * Aisling Weaver * Heidi Champa * Shanna Germain * Parker Ford * Justine Elyot

Needs. We all have them. What you will find in this book are tales—tawdry and otherwise—of folks who are on a mission to fulfill their needs. Or, in some cases, people who are lucky enough to have partners willing to help them meet their needs. Dirty, rough, gritty, coarse, sometimes startling—always stimulating. This is love and lust, fucking and seduction on the rough side. The gritty, edgy underbelly of relationships and love and sex.

CONTENT WARNINGS: This book contains rough sex, explicit sex, explicit language, infidelity, m/f/m sex, m/m sex, ménage, corporal punishment, whipping, seduction and BDSM.

Readers 18+ ONLY

From Gentleman's Relish
by Justine Elyot

Once the linen napkin is folded and fastened in position, blindfolding me, I hear every sound much more acutely. The quack of the moorhens, the clink as Sir accidentally knocks a stray fork against the empty champagne bottle, the shush of the water reeds in the barely-there breeze are all magnified to preternatural intensity.

For that moment, I live in the centre of a pastoral idyll, and then Sir takes my wrists and ties them behind my back with another faultlessly laundered napkin, and I remember. Today's the day the perverts have their picnic.

"What do you think, James?" Sir canvasses his friend lightly, running a hand beneath my bare breasts, flicking at the nipples.

I hear the fizz of bubbles as James upends his glass, draining the last of the champagne, then he says, "I think Manet missed a trick. Dejeuner Sur l'Herbe could have been even more intriguing with our little Sugarplum in the picture. She does so suit tethers, doesn't she?"

"Absolutely. Especially when she's wearing nothing else."

It's true. I'm naked, except for the strategically placed strips of linen, kneeling up on the picnic rug with my shoulders back and breasts forward. I have been hand-fed smoked salmon, had champagne kissed into my mouth, and strawberries and cream consumed from my quim, each diner taking it in turn to feast with eager tongue.

Now it is time for some post-prandial entertainment, and I believe I am it.

"I have a test for you, Sugarplum. A little game. I'm going to give you a taste of three condiments. You must guess what they are. I'm sure you won't be surprised when I tell you that incorrect guesses will result in a penalty."

He is right. I am not surprised. James laughs with delight.

"Oh, this should be good!"

"Now open your mouth nice and wide, Sugarplum. I am going to dab a little on your tongue. That's as much as you'll get. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Sir."

I hear the unscrewing of the lid and the scraping of the jar. Then I smell the familiar pungency of ginger, mixed with the scent of his finger. He rubs the sauce on to my tongue in a slow circle then leaves me to make my judgment.

It is spicy and sweet, with a tang I can't quite place. I roll my tongue around, up against the roof of my mouth, over my teeth, licking my lips before swallowing.

"Is that nice, Sugarplum?"

"Quite tasty, Sir."

"What is it?"

"It's a ginger sauce...of some kind, Sir."

"You need to be more specific."

"Um...ginger chutney?"

"Is that your final answer? And you forgot the Sir." He tweaks a nipple and I gasp.

"Sorry, Sir. Yes, Sir."

I know I am wrong from the teasing delight in his voice.

Sunday, May 22, 2011


Ima Mermaid (that is my stripper name)

Next time I think I'm going full throttle. The whole underside will be turquoise or cobalt or maybe even purple. No more dainty bits.

There's more in there, but I could not get a decent pic. And I am lazy. Lazy Ass (that shall be my porn name) :)


So I guess I can finally show you...

Coming this week:

I. Am. So. Excited.

p.s. It's in the tags and the end of the vid but to pimp even further, this awesome trailer is brought to you by the fantastic Willsin Rowe

Wanderlust part 67 "THE END"

Many, many miles, mucho diners, tons of hotel rooms. Ups, downs, ins, outs, kinks and vanilla. It's been a hell of a ride, folks. And I was so damned honored to wake up with you every day and read your comments and share this trip.

Wanderlust weighed in around 88K, but I got so much more out of it than word count. When I started, I didn't know if I could do it. I never considered that beyond the challenge, I'd have the added bonus of really getting to know all of you. :)

You rock. You roll. You boogie to the music. And I hope you'll keep coming back to see me.


part 67
by Sommer Marsden

I sat in the middle of the floor, laughing. The landlord, his name was James Dalton, had given us two weeks to live here, prove employment and start paying first month rent, last month rent and security deposit. He’d left Johnny with a, “You look like a nice couple and the missus and I were young once, too.”

“It’s too surreal to be real.”

“True.” He dropped down next to me. Together, we eyed the small room. There was a heater built into the wall, a Murphy bed build into the wide walk in closet. A small kitchen and then the actal closet that housed the bed—which was the size of a small ante room with built-in drawers and a counter—led into a small bathroom.

“This gives efficiency a new name.”


“Our bed falls out of the closet,” I snorted.

“It folds out. Not falls.”

I stared at it. “I’m pretty sure if we touch it it’s going to fall.”

I couldn’t really breathe and I could see him watching me. I struggled for air and he said, “Hey…”

I held up a hand. “It’s fine. I’m fine. My body does not know I’m excited. It things I’m stressed,” I giggled.

He stared at me, half smiling, half frowning. Johnny couldn’t figure out what to do.

“We have a place,” he said.

We have a place,” I echoed.

“Yep. Ours.”

“I can’t breathe,” I said.

“I can see that.”

And that’s when he tangled his big hand in my hair and wrapped it in his fist. He tugged me up—not too rough, but just hard enough to make me gasp with excitement. He grabbed the Murphy bed and tugged. When it was half down, he hooked his work boot in the end and pushed it flat. He stripped his flannel off, laid it down and pushed me back on the shirt that was filleted open like a small blanket.

“Take your pants off.” He released my hair and started tugging the bottom of my jeans before I even had the button popped.

“What, what, what?” I chanted, but I was working my button with trembling fingers.

He whisked them away so fast it was like a magic trick. I nearly expected a tada! out of him. In true Johnny fashion, he removed his clothes with efficient movements and leaned in, kissing me hard, making my mouth submit to his will.

I was desperate for it. I needed to be grounded, tamed, calmed—whatever you wanted to call it, I needed him.

He flipped me at the same instant he said, “Turn over”. As if I had choice. He had me up on hands and knees, knocking my legs wider. The Murphy bed complained gently with a little squeaky sound and Johnny caught my hair up in his hand again so that I made a similar sound.

“It’ll be okay,” he muttered to me. Because he knew that was the root of my worry.

“Yes,” I agreed and sank back to meet him when I felt his cock stroke along the wet slit of my pussy and then he was in me, thrusting hard, tugging my hair. His free hand splayed possessively on my lower back.

“It will be fine.” He smacked my ass and I hissed but then I relaxed back into his grip.

“More. Please.” There was a humbling begging quality to my voice. “Please,” I breathed again.

He chuckled and hit me again. The other cheek shrieked with sudden rippling pain and then it bled into a dull thump, causing my cunt to beat faster along with my heart.

“Yes,” I sighed. I tried to let my head fall forward, to surrender to the pleasure and the pain and the fear and the soothing. But he still had me caught up in his grip. He held me there, tugging my hair back so my neck was straighter than I liked.

“Heads up,” he joked, but his voice had gone softer, deeper. “Life ahead. We’ll be fine.”

“We will.” I thrust back against him, spearing myself on him. Losing myself to him.

He alternated blows in earnest now. The crack and snap of the spanks filling our tiny little apartment. My body hummed with pleasure and my cunt gripped up around him. I stared at our new shared ceiling and confessed.

“God, Johnny. God, baby. I’m going to come if you keep—“

He did keep it up. He gave me six more blows and then stopped, releasing my hair, gripping my hips, slamming into me with his own urgent need. The heat from my ass traveled like a stain under my skin into my pussy, down my thighs, up my lowered back and when he gripped me just a touch tighter and growled, “Mine. You’re mine now.” I came.

We were silent for a moment, and then dropped to our bed. A bit too close to the top it seemed, because the foot of the bed jumped off the floor and I gave a startled squeak.

Then Johnny was laughing at me and I was laughing at him.

“Best bed ever,” he said.


I spread myself out over him—naked body and soul—and listened to his heart beating.


We had no curtains yet, just the very well-worn cheap shades. The sun was doing its best to stab me in my eyeballs. I was pretty sure I would be blind for life. I heard the front door and shielded my face before I opened my eyes to look.

“Where were you?”

“Out front. We have breakfast.”

“Scrounged car food?” I laughed.

“Nope. Our new landlord, Mr. Dalton came by with his wife. They didn’t come in because I told them you were still sleeping. There is a whole care package here and a few phone numbers for me to find some landscaping work. Or roofing, construction, all that shit.”

I raised up on my elbows. “Jeeze,” I said.

He smiled, waving some donuts and a packet of coffee at me. “I know right?”

“Do we even have a coffee pot?”

He nodded, moving past me into the kitchen. But not before stooping to drop a kiss on my forehead. Johnny Rose looked damn near…domesticated. In a huge, bald, scarred kind of way.

“Yep. Comes with the unit.”

I wrapped myself in his flannel and hurried into the kitchen. “We have like…magical apartment fairy godparents.”

“Someone’s smiling on us.”

I froze. “I didn’t think you believed much in that stuff.”

He eyed me. “Never have. Much. Until now.”

I smiled and stood on tiptoe to kiss his jaw. He caught me up, by surprise and sat my bare ass on the counter. I’d have to clean that.

“It won’t always be easy, Really,” he said seriously staring me in the eye.

“I know.”

“Things go wrong,” he said.

“But I still love you,” I sang softly, recalling a snippet of lyrics from a Chris Isaac song.

“And we’ll fight, you know.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes you might not even like me very much.” As he said it he was parting my thighs enough to step between them. He kissed my neck and put his hands under the shirt to find my breasts.

“I know that too. And ditto for you.”

“That’s fine,” he said, pressing against me with his now-hard cock. Too bad he still had his jeans on.

“It better be,” I sighed, because he was tweaking my nipples with sharp little pinches.

Were we about to christen the kitchen?

“It is because we’ll get through it. If we try. And we’re patient. We will get through anything. And I promise you, I’ll take care of you,” he said. His blue-blue eyes were begging me to believe him.

I cupped his face in my hands and grinned. “I know you will, Johnny. Because you’re a good man.”

And this time when I said it, he didn’t correct me.


Saturday, May 21, 2011

6 and 7

for those of you following... :)

Coming in October (the book. not me)


Wanderlust part 66 "Big, bad, tortured Johnny Rose was happy."

Ah...before you tell me this could never happen. I'm here to tell you that it could. But some of you realize that life is full of little oddities so you do not question me. There is a very thin vein of reality running through this tale. One of the brightest spots is here.

Anyway, enough cryptic chatter. I am about to go yard saling and blue dye shopping and all that jazz. This weekend look for more Wanderlust (yes, I'm breaking my own rule) and more cover pieces to my upcoming paranormal and maybe another little morsel.

Happy Saturday!


part 66
by Sommer Marsden

“Where are we?” I opened my eyes and we were parked on a shallow roadside. To our left was the ocean. I smiled.

“We are where I wanted us to be.”


The sun was not down but was close. The sky was a periwinkle strip of sky with a pink and yellow layer of icing.

“This is Palos Verdes. Ever heard of it?”

“I think so. Not sure.”

“You awake?” He turned to me in his seat. The car was quiet. Johnny had at some point flipped the music off. Traffic flew past us, but no one paid us any attention. The beach below, which I could barely see, was deserted.

“Yep. I am awake. Confused, but awake.”

“Come on.” He leaned in—so huge, I realized for the millionth time—and kissed me gently. Then he squeezed my hand and unlocked his door.

It was at the edge of the road that all the spit in my mouth dried up. “Um…are you going to kill me?”

He laughed, a big booming sound that was so genuine I felt a sparkle-stab of tears in my eyes. He was happy. Big, bad, tortured Johnny Rose was happy.

Below my flats was a cliff. Not a tiny cliff. A cliff-cliff. A horror movie cliff. A hey-let’s-dispose-of-the-body cliff.

“Do you have sneakers?”

I nodded, not liking where this was going.

“Yeah, but surely there’s an access road. A parking lot? A normal entry to a normal beach.”

“Yes, but we need to go this way. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I swallowed hard. It was one thing to believe that on flat land where gravity wasn’t trying to steal your soul. A completely different thing to believe it when you were doing your best impression of Spiderman.

I blew out a sigh and turned to the car. “Come on, help me find my shoes before I chicken out and run like the wind.”


It wasn’t as bad as I thought. There was a definite path along the rocks that made up the cliff’s face. Some parts you had to climb. Some parts you could shuffle-walk. At one point only did I slip and start to fall and Johnny—true to his word—caught me by the back of my shirt and held me tight.

“Careful, Snowflake.”

“Careful, my ass,” I laughed. “It’s your fault I’m even doing this.”

But I wouldn’t change it for the world. The space inside of me that usually felt so narrow and cramped felt huge and expansive. I had wings. I had hope. I was high on adrenaline and the climb and the huge man who was keeping good time on my heels.

I was high on the fact that for the first time in my life when I heard the word love, I fucking knew what it meant.

The beach was more pebbles than sand. It seemed endless now that we were on it. Endless, roughly smooth, forever.

He held my hand. It was a sweet gesture. He’d grabbed, tugged, yanked, caught and gripped my hand before. But this gesture was entirely new. The way he held it, the softness of the motion. I felt like we were being joined by something much bigger than us, bigger than the sky or the pebbled ground we stood on.

“I think I’ve lost my mind,” I whispered.

He couldn’t hear me. The ocean, she roared louder than a stadium full of applause.

I repeated it, shouting this time—throwing my voice to him so he could know what I was feeling.

His face broke out in a smile and he leaned in so that his lips grazed my earlobe and he still had to speak up. “It’s called euphoria, Really. You’re as sane as you ever were.”

That made me laugh so hard I snorted. “Wasn’t very sane to begin with.”

“You are saner than most.”

We sat on the pebbles and waited. I was content to wait and not ask or pry. I wanted to see whatever it was he wanted me to see.

And then the moon rose up, a white puncture in a black blanket. It lit up slices of ocean in tendrils of milky glow.

“I once came here and…”

I knew what this was. This was where he’d planned to end it. This had been his exit.

I nodded. Squeezed his hand.

“This was supposed to be the end for me. But I was too much of a coward to do it.”

“Good,” I said. “I’m glad. I don’t want it to be the end.”

“It’s not now. Now it’s the beginning.”


Xerxes Avenue. We drifted onto it and we were done. No more gas. No more nothing.

A man was nailing a sign up outside an apartment building. I watched him, feeling true fear.

I still had the credit card in my purse. I could call Bren at any time—collect—and ask for help. But I didn’t want to. That was more the impetus for the fear, I thought, than not having anything.

“What now?” I whispered.

He put his arm around me and I leaned into him. “The beach is straight ahead a few blocks. Public shower, all that jazz. We have snacks in the car, we can sleep in here. We just need to move around a few times a night. They have street sweepers here,” he said and pointed to a street sign stating days and hours for no parking.

“They clean their streets,” I laughed. “God, back home that would be downright surreal.”

I opened the car door, flinging it wide, letting my anxiety out of the car. I followed it. I put my forehead against the roof and tried to breathe. “It’s fine,” I said, more to me than to him.

This was real life. This was what I wanted. It would be fine.

He came around to me, despite the man across the street staring our way, and put his hand on my head. “No worries, Snowflake. It’s fine. Tomorrow I’ll find some work, you can look around too. They usually pay cash at the end of the day and then you show up the next day at the same spot—or you don’t. We’ll at least be able to rent a flea bag on a night to night basis.” He pulled me to him and hugged me. “Nothing but the best for my girl,” he said.

I could hear the smile in his voice and I started to laugh at the irony of it all. “I should have taken the whole account when I had the chance,” I said. “It’s my money. Not his. He can’t’ touch it.”

“Then soon enough—say, when we have gas—we’ll find a branch out here and see about getting the money. Whatever you want.”

“Problem?” We both turned to face the openly curious and seemingly nice older man.

“We’re fine,” I said, wiping my nose.
“Sorry, sir,” Johnny said.

“Car trouble?”

I barked out a laugh and then to my surprise—and horror—a fresh rush of tears overtook me. “Yeah, um, I’ll be in the car,” I whispered to Johnny and climbed back in before I actually managed to embarrass myself to death. If that was possible.

I watched through my bangs and my lashes as I slowly leaked tears as Johnny talked with Mr. Nosy Sign Man.

“Go away, go away, go away,” I chanted softly.

After a few minutes, they shook hands and the man left.

“Oh, thank god!” I burst out.

Johnny opened the door of the Chevy and leaned in, grinning like the cat who ate the canary.

“What?” I yelped. “What? Why are you doing that?”

“Calm down, Really. Grab your stuff.”

“Why?”I said again. “Are we being rousted? What does rousted mean?”I quickly added.

He hung his head and I couldn’t see his face but I could tell he was laughing at me.

“No, Really. We have an apartment.”


Friday, May 20, 2011

F is for Friday, Fucking Fantastic and Fast (and Easy)

Sorry I am blinking a lot, it's due to this highly awesome spotlight I'm in. Thanks to Miss Tyler and Miss Blue for being so nifty. :)


Coming Soon...

A new project from December Ink...

Wanderlust part 65 "Exactly"

Here we are rocketing toward our destination, dear readers. I have to say, I will miss doing this. I also have to say, I doubt this will be my last serial novel. I've had too much fine waking up to Johnny and Really and you all every morning.

Good stuff, good stuff. And we still have a few days left. So buckle up...


part 65
by Sommer Marsden

I made my mind up outside a diner in Las Vegas. Johnny was finishing up another of his atrocious sandwiches. This one was called a Monte Cristo and I had though the Reuben was bad.

“I have to do something,” I said.

“It’s not leave, is it? Because that would really ruin this love buzz thing I’ve got going.” He said it as a joke but there was a small flicker of fear in his eyes.

We were both so beat to shit by emotions that the slightest hesitation from either of us provoked anxiety. He had sworn to never love again and I had sworn I’d never love at all. I was pretty sure, though—with time—we’d get over it.

“Nope. Much worse than tearing myself away from you.” I leaned across the table quickly and kissed him. I wanted him alone and naked and vulnerable again. But for now I relished watching him eat like he hadn’t eaten in a year.

“Calling the old man, then?”


“Listen, we are dangerously low on funds. We might be drifting to our final destination on fumes.”

“We’ll make it,” I said, because I truly felt in my gut that we would.

I used the pay phone on the side of the building, studying the graffiti that said Yesh and Kuntlikker and wondered why they couldn’t at least spell the words right. Maybe I was getting old.

“Mason Blake.” I had dialed his cell and not the front desk.

“Hi, daddy.”

Silence. And then, “How much do you need?”

“I don’t need anything,” I said. “I called to say goodbye.”

“Still with your waiter?”

“Does it matter?”

“Listen, Aurelia, I know losing your mother upset you. But you can come back whenever you like. To this life. No grudges held.”


“No thanks. I’m fine. I just wanted to say goodbye. More for me, than for you,” I said.

I was surprised at my calm, but then again, not much. Johnny had helped me remold a lot of what used to live inside of me. A lot of my ugliness had turned to beauty. Mildly twisted beauty—but still…it was beauty.

“Jackson is filing for divorce, you know.” His voice had become clipped now that he realized he was not going to win. That I would not come crawling back.

“Good. Tell him I’ll check in periodically and let him know where to send the papers.”

“He’s sad.”


“No he’s not. He’s realizing he’s relieved. And you know, daddy, you really should keep him on and treat him well. He’s more of a son to you than I’ve ever been a daughter. And he’s loyal to you. I don’t know how me manages that, but he is. He deserves to be treated as a son.”

“Just come back and stop this nonsense, Really.”

He rarely used my nickname and that, too, was a ploy.

“Nope. But I’ll call soon. I’ll be fine. Not that you were worried.”

Beyond how it affects you…

“Aurelia, you still have money. I won’t put a hold on the account if you—“ He was bluffing. That money was mine.

“I don’t think so. That money costs too much. Take care, daddy,” I said and gently hung up.

I was finally ready to see that once my mother died, my family ties had been severed. The only family I would have now was the one I created for myself.

I turned fast and walked into a wall of man. “You okay, Snowflake?”

I smiled at him. “I am great.”

And then we were leaving Las Vegas and barreling toward our destination. The sky was blue and balmier than the weather we had left.

We hit the California border and I stared at that blue sign like it was a spaceship.


“Wow?” He raised an eyebrow.

“It was just an idea before,” I said.

“Now it’s reality.”

“It is. And us…”

“We lied and lied and lied. Right?”

I grinned. “Yes, we did lie, didn’t we?”

“We’ll be okay,” he said as if he could see that vein of uncertainty that lived in my head. That little rivulet of fear that always entwined itself into my thoughts.

“I know.”

“We’ll have to work.”

“I can work. Fuck, I look forward to work. And don’t laugh at me.” I stared ahead watching the blacktop river of road ahead of us. The yellow dotted lines looked as if they were leading us straight to our futures.

“I would never laugh at you. I’m itching to work some myself. Something with my hands. Dirt and sweat, out in the sun,” he said laughing.

“Are we going to stop once more or just go?”

“We’re going to just go. I have a place I’d like to show you. But we might not be there until dark.”

“Since when did we not do things in the dark?” I asked.

“Exactly.” Johnny winked at me and I felt my body warm. It was like being in on the best inside joke ever.

I turned the radio on and put my head back to watch it all come rushing at me.

I have waited a lifetime. Spent my time so foolishly. But now that I’ve found you. Together we’ll make history…

“Turn it up,” Johnny said. His eyes straight ahead but the rest of him relaxed. More relaxed than I’d ever seen him.

Exactly,” I said echoing him—laughing at the whole burst of happiness I felt—and then I cranked it.


Thursday, May 19, 2011

The maiden review for...

Schooling! yay! First one (that I've seen). By NOR, no less.

4.75 stars, my friends. Pardon me while I do the funky chicken.

Another story I had no faith in. Heh. I, apparently, have horrible self-judgment.

The full review is here.

My favorite bit is:

"The story is fast paced and though provoking. While the sex is hot and numerous, some of the situations are humorous and laugh out loud funny."

Thanks to Marika and NOR for taking the time to review me. :)


some awesomeness from The Readers Roundtable...

Super nice 4.5 crown review that made me smile from TRR. Best part (come on, you expect it now, dontcha?):

"…if you like to stretch your boundaries and see things from another perspective, Learning to Drown may well be the best book you’ll buy in quite a while."

Thanks for Zoe at TRR for taking the time to review me.

And I have to say, my little book I almost trashed because I thought everyone would hate it is making me proud. Just goes to show, sometimes you have to have some blind faith in your work.


Wanderlust part 64 "a burst of light in a very dark world"

Morning, kidlets. Boy did we have some huuuuuuuge thunderstorms last night around oneish. Hours. Anyway, that's the closest thing you're going go to coherent from me at the moment. How about you try this on for size and I'll have another cuppa...


part 64
by Sommer Marsden

It was the shower first. Hot, hot water, lots of steam and us using every excuse in the book to touch each other. Soaping backs and fronts and naughty bits. Kisses and embraces and under it all, like a fault line, ran this shiver of excitement in me that I had just lived out that fantasy.

And this memory would be sweet. I couldn’t quite tell if I had any desire to ever do it again, but it had been done. Pretty, sexy Mercury had been done. By me. And I had been done by him.

“Do you think it’s true?” I asked Johnny, soaping his cock.

“Do I think what’s true? And fuck, Really, how am I to think anything at all when you’re doing that?”

I grinned at him. “Do you think what Mercury said is true. We are so into each other it’s like a third person in the room. Like an…entity?”

He pushed me to the cool tile and pinned me between his arms. Johnny mashed his broad, wet chest, festooned with gems of hot water to my breasts and licked my lower lip and then my top lip. He kissed my eyelids and my cheekbones. His mouth grazed my hairline and my neck. And then he whispered, lips pressed to my ear, “Yes.”

I sucked in a shuddery breath and it was a struggle getting my startled body to breathe. “Let’s shave your head,” I said, because my brain was scrambled and it was all I could think to say.

“Right. Let’s do that. Straight razor or regular?”

“God, don’t give the straight razor right now. I’m so flooded with adrenaline I’d probably scalp you.”

“Not interested in that, thanks.” He winked. When I stepped free of the shower, he smacked my ass so hard I yelped.

He got out and dried off.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you going to stay in the tub?”

“Nope.” He dropped to his knees and waited patiently. Like some great and silent warrior vigilant on his knees.

“I. Um…Okay.” For some reason it was hard for me to focus on anything with him like that. And it wasn’t the sexual nature of it. It was the intimate and somehow vulnerable nature of it.

I put the shaving cream on his scalp, running the flat of my hand over his skin. Coating him in white shaving foam, I began to drag the razor over his scalp. He found my thighs with his hands and simply held them.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I know.”

I rinsed the head of the razor in the sink and ran another clean line from his hairline to the back of his neck.

“Why are you shaking, Really? Did you not enjoy our little toy?”

“I did enjoy her,” I said. “I don’t know why I’m shaking.”

I expected him to slide his hands up my inner thighs. I expected him to make a move. I expected a lot. What I did not expect was him to stay silent, stay on his knees and to simply keep his hands on my trembling thighs.

I’d gotten pretty good with the whole shaving thing. I was a bit of a pro if I did say so myself. I had him smooth and clean without a nick on his head in under five minutes. I left the stubble on his face for two reasons. Firstly, I liked the stubble. Secondly, Johnny shaved every morning as it was. No need for me and my trembling hands to carve up his face.

He looked up at me and that startling blue gaze set of a burst of something akin to anxiety in my chest. But it was also akin to excitement. I remembered my father spouting off before one of their big business deals that the human body did not know the difference between good stress and bad. Between excitement and fear. It was all the same chemical soup. What did recognize the difference was the brain. The brain said excitement.

“What?” I whispered.

But I knew what.

“I’m here, Really. I’m on my knees…for you. I’ve fucked up and I’ve hurt you and you’re still here. There has to be a reason. I love you. And here I am.” He spread his hands like a praying man would when making a plea to something bigger than himself. “Still on my knees. Won’t you give it to me, Really?”

And there it was. That moment. That instant where it all came rushing at me so fast and so hard that it was like I could hear the whump in my head like some explosive had been detonated and all the air had been snatched from the room.

I felt my legs start to shake in earnest and my stomach zipped and tingled with nerves and my throat was too small and the world was too big. I put my hands no his smooth head—stroking it. His eyelids wavered like they wanted to drift shut, but he kept his gaze trained on me.

I took in a great shuddering breath and pushed my finger to his lower lip, watching the plump flesh depress with my touch. I smiled at him even though I felt a few tears break free of my lower eyelids.

“I love you, Johnny,” I said.

And then dropped to my knees.


And oh, it was so much better then. Tears. They ran and ran and I didn’t care and for every one that broke free, Johnny kissed it away.

He spread me out on those two tiny cheap-ass towels and lowered himself over me while pushing himself into me.

It was so much better. So much. And I felt so fucking naked, inside more than out. He’d seen my body, Christ, in a million different ways. But here he got to see my insides, my soul. The busted, broken, black bits and the healing, pink and shiny bits.

“Tell me again,” he said, hiking my legs up in his hands so that he could drive deeper.

I had no breath, but I found it and managed. “I love you.”

“Say my name.”

This time it was a sob, but I didn’t know why. And yet it was okay. It was fine. I could sob. I could cry. I could beg, plead, yell, scream and confess. Because it was all okay.

We were face to face and already I was on the verge of coming. Already that release was licking at hidden muscles and flesh. His eyes burned into me, his scar seemed to glow. A good man who thought he was bad. A savior who thought he was demon.

“I love you, Johnny,” I said. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. I. Love. You.”

He pressed his forehead to mine and it was fast and it was blissful. We both came, a burst of light in a very dark world.


Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Hand me my machete...

because my zombie exterminator book WE KILL DEAD THINGS is out, out, out today! You can find it here at Resplendence Publishing. My brand spanking (please, sir, may I have another) new publisher. My first RP book, woohoo!

Now, here's a blurb, because zombies are afoot...and a-um-hand...and oh look, a-head!


Zombie Exterminators Series, Book One

Poppy thinks her life is weird working the food court at Parktowne mall, until in one brief moment of creeper killing, things change forever. Now she's a freelance zombie exterminator along with her long lusted after co-worker Garrity (her not-so-secret crush), a somewhat lusted after bad boy Cahill, and pretty gay boy Noah.

When the four are hired to do a ballsy zombie clean up at St. Peter's Hospital, Poppy finds out just what's more scary than creepers: The Evoluminaries, a zealot cult who think zombies are part of God's chosen, who happen to end up thinking Poppy might make a mighty good zombie incubator. She finds herself finally sleeping with Garrity, being hunted by a crazy preacher man and stumbling over the fact that Cahill and Noah have become lovers somewhere in the chaos. And that's all on the job.

Just another day in the life when you kill dead things...

You can visit the site to read an excerpt. Tada!


I could not believe...well...Wanderlust part 62 "...it will get you off, Aurelia" and Wanderlust part 63 "Cupcake...Snowflake..."

Well, Jeeezum Crow! I asked a lot of my readers on Twitter if they wanted me to go balls to the wall today. What does that mean? It means I had three whole installments done and we are rocketing toward the finish. But guess what they said. The large majority (and majority rules unless I vote like...six times) said NO! I could not believe...well...*SIGH*

These people have way more patience than self. So I am compromising. It's been a while since I did two. So you have two installments below. Two for the price of one to celebrate my zombie book that comes out some time today.

So off we go...you weird, weird patient people. (((but hey! they are oddly long! so there's that :D )))


part 62
by Sommer Marsden

I was the one who made him turn off the main road so we could go to the Silver Pearl. The sign was a jittery study in hot pink neon that simply promised, Girls! Girls! Girls!

“You sure about this, Snowflake?” He guided the Chevy into the back of the lot and put it in park. When he cut the engine, he turned to me, waiting for the verdict.

“I’m sure. I’ve never ever been to strip club. Curiosity killed the Really,” I said. Then I kissed him. I caught my fingers up in his denim shirt and twisted so that he had to lean into me. I had a sudden urge to change my mind and just take him back to the hotel and fuck him again.

“Okay, then.” His voice was a little rough, a little dark, a little deep. He was thinking the same thing.

“Plus, I got all pretty,” I sighed.

“You’re always pretty, Really.”

I grinned at him. I had pulled on my black leggings and my black flats. I’d chosen my white tunic but unbuttoned it low so that a few peeks of my black lace bra showed through. I’d wheedled my way into borrowing Johnny’s other belt. A beat up black leather number with a silver buckle. He’d punched a spare hole in the leather with a pen knife for me. Some chandelier earrings I’d found hanging out at the bottom of my purse had completed the ensemble.

Not too shabby for a girl who’d been living out of a car for the last week or so.

“Ready?” My voice was high and thin. I was a bundle of nerves and anxiety.

He actually laughed at me. A low rumbling, true laugh that made me blush. “You are all atwitter, aren’t you?”

“I am!”

“Let’s go then. And you—“ He pointed at me.

“What?” I gasped.

“You keep your wallet put away. We don’t need any more mishaps with that. Got it?”

“Got it.”

And away we went. Into the thumping, neon lit womb of the club. A bouncer—so big he made Johnny look petite—checked our ID, took our cover charge and informed us that for gentlemen, there was a three drink minimum.

We sat at the bar and drank watered down, expensive drinks as we waited.

The loudspeaker made me jump and the man’s voice was total 1970’s radio announcer cheese, but I grinned like an ass and waited like a kid at the circus.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, put your hands together for Mercury. She rolls, she glides, she slides. She’s liquid, she’s quicksilver, she’s always slippery.” And then the music kicked in and my skin pebbled to hear Love and Rockets No Big Deal.

I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with you…Your feet are still on the ground, still you put me down, I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with you…

Tall and lanky, curvy like an hourglass, she worked the pole, her black hair swinging in her face like it just wanted to touch her. I understood the sentiment.

I felt Johnny’s mouth on my ear. “Look at you, Snowflake. If you had a cock you’d have wood.”

“I have wood,” I whispered back, licking his lobe. “You just can’t see it.”

You’re no big deal…

She spun, hair flying, the tiny little spider web nighty she wore, clinging and then surrendering to gravity to fly away from her body.

Mercury abandoned the pole and peeled the baby doll off one strap at a time to reveal pale perfect breasts—natural, thanks so much—with rosy nipples at the center. I imagined, quite vividly, that those breasts would fit the palm of my hand perfectly.

Johnny’s hand was on my thigh—just resting there—and I realized how God awful wet I was. How unbelievably turned on. And then I realized her eyes were glued to me and she was shimmying free of that little patch of fabric they called a thong. Under it was an even smaller scrap that barely covered air let alone skin.

Mercury hit the stage, crawling to the beat and somehow undulated her way to me—right up to me. And at the edge of the stage, she said, “Hi. You sure are pretty.” Before I could even draw air she shot those surreal seawater eyes to Johnny and said, “So, big boy. Do you share her or what?”

But her number was over and Mercury had to leave the stage. She gave me one more pointed look and my heart thundered, filling my chest and my throat.

I turned to Johnny. “I want her,” I said.

He looked at me.

“I want her and you can watch and you can be a part of it. To a degree, but not her. You can’t touch her,” I said.

He continued his stare.

Yes, I was paying him back for Fallon. No touching Mercury. Mercury was mine. And that was that. He could take it or leave it. I mean, it hadn’t even been anything I realized I wanted until I wanted it.

But now…I did want it. bad.

“Yes or no,” I blurted because I could feel her coming. I knew she’d be out soon to find us and I wanted to know where I stood. How he felt.

“Whatever you want, Really,” he said.

Unlike other times in my life, that was not a placation or a put-off. It was not, take it and shut up or I have no idea how to handle you so you can have it. This was genuine. I love you, I want you, I understand you…you can have whatever you want.

I grabbed his face and blurted, “Fuck me you need a shave! And then I kissed him. Pushing my tongue into his mouth, stroking the tip of mine over the tip of his and when he grabbed my hand and put it on his crotch under the bar, I felt how fucking hard he was. What my kissing did to him.

And then a scotch and cigarette voice said in my ear. “Isn’t this sweet? So can I get in on this or what? ‘Cause sweetie, you are a pretty little niblet.”

And then her hand was on my thigh too.

Johnny leaned in, always thinking. “Business or personal?” he asked.

I was confused, but she grinned. “Personal. My real names, Maggie. You can call me Maggie or Mercury and my shift ends in an hour.”

Now she was facing me, having sidled up to my thigh she pressed her flat belly to my leg. Her eyes really were quite pale green, like water or sky. I felt shaky and excited and aroused.

I also felt eyes on me—hers and Johnny’s.

“That’s fine then. My girl here’s quite taken with you,” he said and then introduced us.

I thought, wildly, he was a pimp in reverse. Brokering a brief affair for me with a beautiful young woman because I had an urge to be with a woman for the first time.

On my damn terms.

“I’m pretty taken with her, too. You’d be amazed,” she said to me, her lips kissing distance from mine, “how many ugly women we get in here. Christ, how many ugly men. It’s quite often what us dancers call ugfests. But you two…you stand out. And out of everyone, you stand out the most.” She pressed her fingertip to my lower lip and then smiled. “Gotta go back. You will wait here for me?”

I could only nod.

Johnny said, “An hour.”

And then she was gone. I was starting to understand the Mercury name.

He leaned into me and tugged my hair gently. “So, what exactly do I get to do in this little scenario, Snowflake? Fill me in while we wait.”

So I did. And when I was done talking I asked him, “Are you on board with that?”

He made a tugging motion with his hand and a train horn sound that sounded pretty fucking realistic. “All aboard. Tickets please.” Then he grinned at me and grabbed my tunic. He yanked me in—rough and hard, so that my body revved up for him—and kissed me.

“I’m on board if it will get you off, Aurelia. But when she’s gone, you’re mine. Deal?”


part 63
by Sommer Marsden

I had never kissed a woman I found attractive before. And I thought of that all the way back to the hotel. Mercury was following us. And yes, Mercury is what I would call her.

I had just enough time to stand on tiptoe and kiss Johnny—a breathless, anxious kiss—before she showed up in the doorway.

“Nevada’s finest,” she said and sauntered in.

Johnny very quietly dropped in a wicker chair in the corner. It was amazing how docile a man his size can be when he feels he’s fulfilling something for you.

“Sweet, right?” I laughed nervously.

“Yes. You. Are, cupcake.”


“I meant—“

“I know, I know.” She dropped her big black bag, took my wrists in her small hands and guided me toward her, her fingers tangled in the hem of my tunic. Her lips were soft and slippery with gloss and her tongue, when it speared past my lips, tasted like lime and rum.

My pussy went wet, my nipples spiked, and though I couldn’t see him, I sure as shit could feel Johnny’s gaze on us. I heard the wicker chair complain as he readjusted.

“So how about you take your clothes off?” she said.

Johnny in female form, that is what I’d chosen. I had to smile at that. “I can do that.” My hands were shaking, but just a little, as I peeled off the tunic and the leggings. Already, Mercury was dealing with my bra clasp and she pushed the lacy black boy shorts I wore down to my knees.

She kissed me again, her mouth blazing a trail of slippery spittle from my throat to my breasts. I sighed, let my head drop back. My chandelier earrings jingled merrily, brushing my bare shoulders.

When she pushed me back to lie on the bed, I froze up and said. “I want to. I want you on your back.”

She raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me and smiled. “Ah, okay. Exerting some power, are you?”

“I just…I’ve never…I want to. Is that a problem?”

Mercury hit the bed and peeled off her cut-off shorts. She yanked off her jean jacket and her tank and under it was nothing. No bra. No panties. Just her. Shaved pussy that had only a tiny strip Jackson had always called a landing strip. Her navel was pierced and above her left hipbone was a black feather.

She was perfect. Beautiful and smooth and tone, like she’d been carved from stone.

I looked at Johnny for just an instant. His pants were still done, his buckle too. But his cock was hard. I could see it from here, that rigid hump in the denim. And it added an extra shiver up my spine to know he was turned on. And watching me.

He gave me a small nod and an even smaller smile as if to say, go on, Really. Do what you gotta do.

I crawled toward her. Started kissing her at knee level and worked my way up, dropping small baby kisses along her warm skin. She sighed contentedly and when I got to the tops of her thighs, I remembered Johnny’s trick for getting me outrageously hot. I played my lips over the tops of her thighs, down that silken skin of her inner thighs. I kissed her mound and let my tongue trail along the flesh that outlined her sex. I nibbled one outer lip tasting the rich, musky, sweet flavor of aroused woman.

“Come on, Cupcake,” she said, laughing. It was good natured. She was telling me she wanted it. And I wanted to give it to her.

But not yet.

I pushed my body up over hers, feeling our skin rub together. Hers smooth and warm. Mine a bit cooler from nerves. Her nipples pebbled under me, her belly flat to mine. I ground my hips along her hips, feeling the pressure from her pelvis give me the pressure I needed to grasp.

She yanked my hair hard enough to make me cry out and then she kissed me until I forgot why I was making that noise. I found her with my fingers as she found me with hers. She was hot and tight and wet inside. All the things you would expect and yet still startling in their simple perfection. I nudged my fingers deeper, feeling the foreign terrain of her body under my finger tips. I gasped when she filled me with her slender fingers—still kissing me—but fucking me hard with a fat bundle of three talented digits.

I heard the wicker complain again but no sounds of anything other than a man sitting there—watching.

I bent my neck, sucked her nipple hard enough that I felt her cunt flex up tight and greedy around my fingers. I bit it and her pussy spasmed again. One more kiss and the swirl of her sweet tongue and I was pushing away, going low, finding her with my mouth and sucking her clit so that she hissed, “Shit!” and gripped the bed cover.

I did everything to Mercury that I liked done to me. I put my fingers deep inside of her and then gently curled my fingers instead of thrusting. I sucked her clit before teasing it with my tongue kept broad and flat. And when she was so wet, when my fingers were slippery and slick inside of her, when her hips could not stop moving and her breath was a raspy pant, I nibbled her clit for a moment and then teased her straight into orgasm with my rigid tongue.

I pushed my forehead to her belly and waited. letting her calm.

She went for a handful of my hair. “Come up here, so I can—“

“That’s not what I want,” I said.

Her eyes, pale and liquid regarded me. “No?”

“No.” I smiled.

“What do you want? Toys, strap-on? What’s your pleasure, pretty?”

I turned to face Johnny and asked him a question, “Will you fuck me? While I do her one more time?”

I turned to Mercury. “If that’s okay with you.”

“If that’s what does it for you.” She touched my face. It was a friendly, gentle touch. No malice here. Nothing like Fallon.

“I only have one rule,” I said to her.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t touch him. At all.”

Her eyes flashed and she grinned. “Wow. Pity, but sure. I didn’t come here for him anyhow. Not that he’s not fetching with his largeness and his scar.”

I smiled back. “He is. Isn’t he?”

The bed dipped and Johnny was there. Amazing how you can recognize energy simply by feel after a while. There was no mistaking the electric buzz of Johnny Rose in close proximity to me.

I looked at him over my shoulder. “And you, no—“

He shook his head briskly, his face serious. “You don’t even have to finish that sentence, Really.”

He wouldn’t be touching her, then. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

He parted my legs and held my hips in his hands. Hands I cherished. Hands that comforted me. Yes, fuck it, hands I love.

His cock pressed to me and then penetrated me, slipping deep so, so fast because I was so fucking ready.

I bent my head back to Mercury. She was sensual and rich and spicy in my face. Already wet and plump and swollen. I nuzzled her and she groaned with contentment.

Johnny’s fingers found me and he tweaked my clit in little harsh bursts that shattered the pure pleasure of his cock in me with tiny slivers of pain. It was perfect. My cunt clutched up around him almost instantly. I fucked Mercury with the rigid tip of my tongue, used my fingers to hold her pussy lips wide. When I was so unbearably close form Johnny’s thrusting, I latched my mouth over her pussy and started to suck.

“Jesus,” she said.

I could not speak to agree, but yes, Jesus.

Johnny’s hands were almost painfully tight on my flesh and the way he was thrusting—a barely controlled chaos—told me that he was close too. And he could read my body almost as well as I could. Which meant he felt the incredible tightness of my pussy around his shaft. And he knew. Knew that all it would take was one little trigger and I was gone.

So he pushed his finger into my ass as he fucked me. Slow and steady and sure, he thrust his finger all the way in and the pinch and sparkle did me in.

I sucked at Mercury and then nipped her. Pushing my fingers deep into her cunt. And then she was grabbing my hair, yanking, adding to the pain I felt. She was coming. That final sparkle of pain she gave me pushed me over and I came too, my face still working between her lovely thighs, the rest of me open and eager and thrusting back to take my Johnny.

And when he came, when he cried out, I started to cry. Feeling him holding me up by my hips. Feeling his fingers curl in against my flesh. Hearing him say my name.

There was a moment of stillness before it was broken. And then, “Whoa, did I hurt you?” Mercury asked, as we slowly disengaged. She wiped tears from my face.

Tears that once would have embarrassed me but now did not faze me at all.

“Nope,” I said. “I just—hard to explain. But I need to ask—“

She held a hand up. “No worries, doll. It was fun. Really fun. But you two are so into each other it’s like a third person in the room. Besides me, I mean. Good luck.”

She dropped a kiss on my lips, licking them swiftly as if gathering up her own flavor, nodded to Johnny and was gone.

He moved in and wiped away more tears. “You sure you’re okay?”

He looked bemused but concerned.

“I am more than fine. I’m happy. But you—“

He frowned. For one little instant he almost looked afraid.


“You totally need a shave. Get in the bathroom.”

“You’re not tired?

“I am but nowhere near able to sleep.”

He gathered me against him, both of us naked. He was so hot, like a man shaped furnace. I ran my fingers over his chest, traced a nipple, touched the scar that bisected his eyebrow.

He brushed his lips over mine, cupping the back of my head and holding me to him while he kissed me deeply. I started to shake from that kiss. That all-consuming kiss.

“Come on. Let’s shower first, because, baby…” He laughed and winked at me.


“You smell like pussy.”

My mouth popped open. “Is that bad?”

“No. But right now, the only pussy I’m interested in smelling is yours.”

“Oh, now, eh?” I was teasing.

“Well, that is up to you, ultimately, isn’t it, Aurelia?”

I swallowed hard and followed him. The words I wanted were stuck in my throat.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Wanderlust part 61 "He buckled me in brass and leather"

Well, friends and neighbors, we've cracked 80K. I can feel the constant urge and pressure to just keep writing this book and finish it. But that's not what this journey's been about or how I've been writing it. So, it is very much, at the moment, a practice in patience for me. I suck at patience. :)

In other good news, my brand new zombie novella WE KILL DEAD THINGS comes out tomorrow from Resplendence Publishing. I. Am. Stoked! Woohoo!

Beyond all that, home again with a sick kid today. And have about a billion things to get done on the writing front. Let's see how many out of a billion I can manage. :)


part 61
by Sommer Marsden

We trickled into Nevada. The scrappy little plants and succulents forming a militaristic line showing us the way. There was sky and desert and dust. And more sky.

“I want to do something,” I said. “We’re very close.”

“We are very close. We can just keep driving, you know. We don’t have to stop.”

But I wanted to. I wanted to make a grand entrance into California. I don’t know why. I didn’t even know if we planned to stay there for the long run. Or if it was just a hit and run, where we showed up, shoved our feet into some sand, looked at some rolling banks of waves, kissed terra firma and then got back in the car.

But the destination was approaching and the trip itself had been a doozy and I wanted to do something.

“Nah. Let’s find a place. We okay on money?” I ask, remembering. It was something I had to force myself to remember. We needed to watch our money.

“We slept in the car last night, so we’re good.”

Good. We were good.

“Right! So let’s find a motel and go out.”

“Out?” He gave me a sidelong glance and a half smile. It made me horny—always—that half smile of his.

“Yes, Out. The opposite of in. We will not be in for the night. We will be out.”

“Thanks for clearing that up, professor.”

I tried to recall what I had in my bag that I could gussy up. Jeans, leggings, jeans and leggings. It was a sickness with me, apparently.

I’d figure it out.

“Can we do that?” I asked, turning to him.

“We can. As long as you don’t want to go out and blow our money or whatnot.”

“No. I don’t want to gamble—I’ve never seen the point of it, to be honest—I just want to go out.”

“Fine by me. You okay, Really?” He was watching me as if I might shoot off into orbit.

“No,” I admitted. “I am something I can only remember being a handful of times in my life.”

I was jittery, shaky and lit up with it. I felt like I’d swallowed an electrical cord.

“What’s that, Snowflake?”

I slid toward him fast on the bench deat, though he was steady behind the wheel. I kissed his cheek and then I kissed his head and then I kissed his mouth and he kissed me back. “I’m excited,” I said. “I’m fucking excited. I don’t know how to handle it.”

“Looks like you’re doing just fine.”


Our hotel room was the color of sand and sky. Pale straw colored bedspread, hot day in July blue sky. I dropped to the bed. “Wow. We are really fucking doing this.”

He leered at me. That lupine grin he managed sometimes. I curled into a ball, rolled away, laughing. I knew that look.

“We are really fucking doing this. And I love that you are getting all…”

He peeled his tee off and I watched the ripple of skin and muscle and my mouth went dry. “All what?” I breathed.

“All kinetic about it.”

The belt came out, the pants unzipped. He dropped his Levi’s and tugged his boxer briefs down to show me that he was, in fact, loving seeing me all kinetic.

“Yes, kinetic,” I breathed. Watching him. He was perfect and gorgeous and hard and I wanted him so very badly that fast. One instant. One heartbeat. One second ticked off on the clock of my life.

He came toward me and I squealed, shimmying away. Though, we both knew it was bullshit. We both knew I wanted it—wanted him.

“Come on, now. Let’s celebrate Nevada,” he growled and grabbed my ankle. He tugged me to him and I slid across the dust-colored comforter as he reeled me in.

“I don’t have time,” I lied.

“Let’s make time.”

“I can’t sit still,” I blabbed. It was half true.

“Let’s fix that” He flipped me on my belly and said, “Stay.”

I froze. On my belly. Heart banging so hard I felt the thrumming in my temples and my throat and my cunt. I heard his belt again and then that soft leather was being wrapped around my upper arms. He buckled me in brass and leather and I was bound, my arms behind my back, the buttery leather wrapped several times and secured above my elbows. Then he rolled me to my back and the pressure on my arms was uncomfortable but not painful. When he peeled my jeans off, I forgot about the discomfort.

“Are you wet for me?”

“I don’t know,” I lied.

“Let’s see.”

He peeled my panties off, pulling them gently down my legs so the lace tickled and licked over my skin. I was holding my breath, little sparkles of light bursting in my line of vision.

Johnny pried my legs wide, his huge hand clamping around—almost completely circling—my ankles. He squeezed just enough to give me a burst of pain and my body gave up a sweet rush of moisture. Making me wetter and slicker and needier for him.

Johnny smiled at me. His eyes taking in every nuance. He didn’t miss a trick. He was reading every flicker of emotion on my face. “Let’s test you out, Snowflake.”

He slid rough fingertips up my inner thighs, taking his time, making me wait. He traced my hip bones, the fleshly flare of my hips, the tops of my thighs—never ever touching my pussy—until I was panting and thrashing and then he said, “Still.”

I forced myself to freeze and just be there. Just wait.

He stroked my outer lips as if to coax me into opening.

I moaned. It slipped free of me before I even knew it was coming.

Johnny nudged his finger inside the outer lips, stroking that tender skin, and finally, blissfully, he pressed my clit. Swept his finger over it, swirled it and then…God, yes, he slid his broad fingers into my cunt and thrust.

“Johnny,” I said. It was a plea, nothing more, nothing less.

“Yes?” he chuckled.

I shook my head, no-no-no, and had no idea why. Just that the need to have him had becomes so huge my body thrummed with it.

He curled his fingers, thrust them deep, teased all the small sensitive nerves that needed his attention and when I was banging my hips up to meet him, to take his fingers deeper, he pulled them free.

“Johnny,” I said again. Begging.

“I’m coming, baby,” he said. “Hang on.”

He pushed between my legs, nudged my thighs apart, pushed his cock to my soaked slit and drove in.

My back bowed, my mouth opened and he took it in a kiss. I curled my legs around his trim waist and opened my body to take him deeper. My arms screamed, my shoulders throbbed but when his teeth came down on my collar bone and he bit me in counter time to his thrusts, I came.

A hard fast orgasm that jolted me back under him. Johnny didn’t break stride. He moved his mouth lower to suck my nipple, biting off and on so I was never secure, always off guard and the anticipation had my body on red alert.

His cock slammed deeper as he whispered in my ear, in my hair, against my throat. I had a hard time hearing him over my own breathing, my own noises, the rustling of bed sheets and the smacking of bodies. But I heard words like; perfect, love, beautiful, strong, happy, good…

His hands came down on my hips and held me fast. He used his grip as leverage, sliding so far into me my body could do nothing but grip him up. My pussy almost unbearably tight, the ache in my shoulders a bittersweet accent to the pleasure.

His face went serious and his eyes grew dark and he fucked me just a touch faster and he said, “I love you, Really. And I’ll just keep saying it now until you’re ready.”

I bit my lip, moved up to meet him.

“Come for me, Snowflake,” he said and grinned. And then he was coming, his face softening just at touch. And it was the grin that did me in.

I came with him, clutching my hands together behind my back because it was all I could reach.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Wanderlust part 60 "So, no, nothing like camping"

So, I've been here before. The place in this section. I don't know where exactly it was. I don't know its name. I've used my writer's fibbing card to go ahead and make it on the route we're taking and for all, I know, I am dead on the money. It's been a million years since I saw it, but I can close my eyes and remember the awe I felt. I can also close my eyes and remember going through a bit of Colorado that made me feel about as big as a pushpin. The mountains were forever up when we drove down this swath of road cut into rock. I remember runaway truck ramps and only a tiny sliver of sky visible between the two monoliths that were mountains.

I remember a lot. From then. Now, I can never remember why I walked into a room ;)

Anyway, Wanderlust is officially the longest thing I've ever written, weighing in at 79, 139 words and 339 pages thus far. And we're not done. But we are rocketing toward Cali, friends. And I'm glad you're along for the ride. It's so much more fun to travel with kick ass people by your side. Now...I need more coffee.


part 60
by Sommer Marsden

There is something about a car that can put me to sleep even if I don’t feel tired. When I’m not operating it, that is. The other way would be pretty bad.

I woke in a rest stop, parked facing the road. The very dark deserted road. I saw one car go by—one solitary vehicle—and it is the only reason I knew it was a road. I woke to a landscape of black nothingness, a sea of shadow.

“Where are we?”

“You’ll see.”

“I see nothing. Jack shit. It’s dark as an asshole in here.” I snorted. “That was one of my grandmother’s favorites, for you.”

“Very fetching,” Johnny said, chuckling softly. “Go back to sleep, Snowflake. You’ll see what there is to see in the morning.”

He reached out in the nothingness and stroked my hair. Stroked me like a cat, not that I was complaining. It felt good. It was soothing.

“What, we’re sleeping out here?”


“Like camping.”

“Only in a car. And no camping gear. So, no, nothing like camping.”

“Is this what you wanted me to see? The dark?”

“Not really, but I guess it’s part of it.”

I sighed. Found his leg with my hand and dropped my head into his lap. “Okay, but if you’re going to make me sleep in the car, I’m going to be comfortable.”

“Deal.” His hand stroked my hair, my neck, my back and then I was letting go again. Falling back under.

I marveled, briefly, at how easy it was to fall asleep out here in the nothing. Away from the lights and noise and chaos of city life. Away from the neon and the cell phones and the constant flash of traffic lights.



Inside my eyelids it was red. A blood-haze that told me the sun was up. Before I opened my eyes, I was talking. A trait my mother had always teased me about. “Now we have nice bright nothingne—“

I shut up then. It was a long and undulating field of sand. Dunes. Light bouncing off rippling hills. It was the starkest and yet…most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen.


“Yes, wow.” Johnny stared straight ahead. He watched the seemingly never ending rusty horizon.

“So this is…”

“Utah. I mean there’s other parts. Salt flats, rocks, great flat slabs of scrub and vacancy and sky. But this is what I think of when I think of Utah.”

“I can see why.”

“This is me, Really.”

“That is very Yoda of you, but I don’t know what you mean.” But I thought maybe I did.

“I drifted after the accident. I had no reason to do anything but.”

I nodded, realizing this was one of those moments in life when you just kept your big mouth shut.

“I’ve lived a lot of places and I’ve traveled through even more.”

I rubbed a thin spot on my jeans like a worry bead and waited.

“But this place, right here, I sat after I lost them and I thought about how easy it would be to kill myself.”

I swallowed hard. I’d never ever thought about killing myself. Just those weird urges to run my hand along the knife blade, or to jump—all that weird shit born of impulse and ache. We’d talked about how we both imagined that, but in my tiny demented fantasies I never died. I just did what most would not think to do. I touched the fire, cut the skin, fell and then what?…What did I think would happen then?

“And?” I managed.

“And I felt like I wasn’t done. I can’t explain it. But I felt as empty and fucking endless as what you see in front of you.”

“But it’s gorgeous, too,” I said. Feeling like a fool. Feeling like I was handing him a tissue to mop up an ocean.

“Maybe that’s why I didn’t. I don’t know. I didn’t feel done. And at the time, I was pretty much dead on the inside anyway. So it didn’t’ matter if I made it official or not. So, it was okay to just go on because maybe what I wasn’t done was punishing myself. I wasn’t quite finished with the hurting. And I guess I thought I totally fucking deserved it. To a degree, I still do.”

“Just to a degree?”

He finally faced me and the orange glints of the sunrise lit the side of his face. His eyes, so fucking blue and so painfully honest, locked with mine and he said, “Yes, to a degree. Because despite my best efforts to fuck it all up—to spite my own damn self—I have found something with you I thought was lost to me.”

“Kinky sex?”

He frowned and I swallowed hard. So very Really of me to fucking throw out a stupid joke because my heart was racing and my mouth tasted like pennies.


“I’m sorry,” I said.

He smiled and something in me loosened.

“It’s fine. Defense mechanism. We all have them. Just ask the turkey I brought you.”

I snorted and covered my face.

“What have you found?” I urged.

I expected him to say happiness, or lust or love. Peace. Any of them. Instead he said, “That one little piece of me that isn’t dead. That one little piece of me that wants to live.”

“I’m glad you found it,” I said. “I know what dead feels like. Sounds dramatic, but it’s true. It’s like shuffling through life instead of dancing. It’s focusing on the anger and the pain instead of…” I nodded to our view, “seeing even little stuff that makes you feel light inside. And hey, for the record, I haven’t exactly been a model passenger for our little trip. I have done my fair share of fuckuppery.”

He shook his head. “Not like me. You’re either brilliant or crazy for riding this out with me, Aurelia Blake.”

“Maybe I’m a little of both,” I said. “And hey, the name is Snowflake. Some really cool guy named me that.”

He frowned, smiled, frowned. His eyes drifting back repeatedly to the dunes. I wondered if he saw his dead son out there. His dead woman. His dead self? I wondered if there were ghosts in that sand for Johnny. And I wondered if someone like me really and truly had any shot of helping him deal with them. Not in theory, but for real.

I leaned over and kissed his stubbled cheek. He was stubble from his scalp to his chin and I wanted so bad to get my hands on a razor and this man. I wanted to make him clean and smooth. Inside and out, body and soul.

He turned to me, kissed me hard. Pulled me to him and held me tight. Tighter than anyone had ever held me. Like I might disappear if he didn’t hold on.

And yet, I still didn’t tell him. It was inside of me. This clamoring, swelling, gigantic wave of love for him. But still, I held it close to me. Clutching it possessively. Maybe I just wanted to hold it and keep it for myself for just a little bit before I gave it away.

I had a feeling once I gave it away, there was no going back.


Sunday, May 15, 2011

bits 4 and 5...

of my upcoming hunk. I mean...paranormal cover.

Last night was interesting. Here I am trying to go off to bed and the next thing you know there are five cruisers out front, a guy walking down the middle of the road doing the drunk test in the pouring rain, a tow truck. Ah...city life.

Morning. Coffee and then plant store. Just call me Farmer Ted.


Saturday, May 14, 2011

Get me for free...

My story "The Fourth Arch" is a free read on Good Vibrations Magazine. Awesomeness with awesome sauce!


Why so blue???

'Cause I wanted it that way. Peekaboo highlights. No, really. That's what they're called. Sometimes...what blue? Then I move my head and OMG...blue!


Wanderlust part 59 "I'm not that bendy"

Don't forget, yesterday was a fucktastic mess here at UF. If you last left Johnny in the shower and Really ushering Charlie out, read #58 before you read *this*.

Off to get blue streaks in my hair. BLUE. STREAKS. WOOHOOO!

You might see me later, but don't expect any more Wanderlust until Monday. This here is the last thing written. Heh. ~~~~>

part 59
by Sommer Marsden

“Get me out of here,” I said.

It was a mission now. To leave this place behind. I tossed my stuff in my bag as he gathered his. He eyed the stain on the carpet and I snickered.

“I gave the maid your turkey.”

That earned me a wry grin. He definitely was feeling pain since I hadn’t told him I loved him too. Maybe he was worried that I didn’t. But to really tell him properly, I had to have that moment where I couldn’t not say it. I didn’t want the first time I said it to a man, and meant it, to be tainted by anger or hurt.

“You mean to throw out, right?” he laughed.

“No. As her lunch.”

There was a genuine bark of laughter from him then. He winked at me and dropped to the bed, holding his head for a moment.


“A bit. Not bad. Not as bad as you’d think. I just feel like an ass. And yeah. A little headache.”

“There wasn’t anyone…while you were gone. I mean, you didn’t—“

“There was no one but me and Jack Daniels, Really. I promise.”

He was a mess, but he wasn’t a liar.

I nodded, relieved. Both because I needed one and because I needed a break, I said, “I’m hopping in the shower and then we’re hopping in the car. Right?”


“And we will finish up in Utah and then on to Nevada.”

Where you can really party…

“Right. Before we hit Nevada, I want you to see something, though.”


“I’m not telling. Go on,” he said. He waved me off.

I cranked the hot water and stood there. It was half reward, half punishment, I think. If there’d been a phone in the bathroom I would have called Bren. Instead, I had to council myself.

“When you’re not angry anymore you’ll tell him. When you feel better. You will not lord this over him or withhold affection. You will not use emotions as a weapon or any of that bullshit.”

I blew out a sigh, rinsed my hair and cut the water. As an afterthought, I added, “Om…”

“Who are you talking to?” he called.

“Myself. Coming!”


That made me laugh. “You wish!” I called.

When I opened the door, he was standing there. Filling the doorway and bigger than life. “It could be arranged.”

“I just want to leave,” I stammered. But the look in his eyes shot through me like a burst of heat.

“You’re all wet.” He traced his finger from between my breasts, down my belly to my navel. The muscles there flickered at twitched at the soft stimulation.

“I am,” I said. My voice a puff of air in the foggy bathroom.

“Just one more for the road?”

I started to move past him and he stopped me. “Johnny?”

“Hold the door frame,” he said.

“I’m not that bendy,” I said, smiling.

He dropped to his knees and nudged my knees apart with his hands. “You don’t need to be.”

He leaned in and kissed my belly, right above my mound. His tongue lapped beaded water from my hipbones and when he leaned in, basically on hands and knees, and pushed his lips to my pussy, I grabbed the door frame so I didn’t fall.

I wanted to say something, say anything, but nothing would come out. So I just sighed and watched his shadowed scalp as he moved between my legs. His tongue tracing my outer lips to expose and nudge my clit. He sucked it in, licked it with the flat of his tongue, sucked it in, and licked again. He never repeated the pattern and I was dizzy with anticipation.

I was off edge, spinning, falling, eager for more. His fingers dipped inside of me, thrusting deep and then curling to my G-spot so a heat spread through my womb and my cunt gripped him tight.

The heat felt like it touched my toes, my face, my fingers. I felt like white light and electricity. I let my head fall back and pushed my hips forward and opened myself to his probing mouth and the slippery goodness of his thrusting tongue.

When I came, he kept right on going. His big hands trapping my knees so they stayed locked to hold me up. He kept going even as I said, “Stop—oh, stop—too much, too much, too much…”

He kept going when that bled into, “Don’t stop. Right there. Again.”

The way he sucked my clit, the pressure and then the teasing sweeps all came together to push me back over into another fierce orgasm. My body jittering like I was dying. My face flushed with pleasure, so hot I could feel the red stain of blush on my skin.

I dropped my hands to his head and stroked it. I let myself find his shoulders and when I did bend-fall-fold forward to him, he caught me.

When he kissed me, he tasted like me. And him. He tasted so fucking sweet.

“Now I’ll get you out of here,” he said.

We carried our stuff down to the car. On the way to the highway, we passed the bus station. I thought of Charlie Russo and his apparently ignorant girlfriend. I thought of too many beers and bad bar food and a man who acted like an ass when all was said and done. But acted like an ass for me.

I thought it was possibly the most dysfunction holiday ever. And here I’d thought it would be the first semi-normal one.

Maybe your normal is dysfunction…

That made me laugh. Struck me as so fucking funny that I had to wipe my streaming eyes as I laughed.

“Want to share?”

“Not really. I am just…well, at the moment I am happy. If there is such a thing in my life,” I admitted.

The landscape turned alien. Utah is a crazy place. Johnny put his foot down as we hit a wide open stretch of road and I watched gorgeous splashes of nothingness drift past. We were running from that, our first Thanksgiving together, which was good.

Because what a mind fuck it had been. I wasn’t’ sure I’d ever eat turkey again. Not that I’d even eaten it this year.

He put his hand on my leg and squeezed. It was familiar and that alone made it exciting. “So what do you want me to see?” I asked.

“You’ll see,” he said.


And then I was silent, watching the road and singing along.

We were born before the wind. Also, younger than the sun. Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic…