Friday, November 29, 2013

I bet girl child is going to...

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

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


Wednesday, November 27, 2013

I am thankful...


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

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

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

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

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

Long story shorter: I had to leave.



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

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

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

What I witnessed was humanity at its finest.

I'll nutshell this for you:

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

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

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


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

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

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


photo credit: MTSOfan via photopin cc

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Guest (*Christmas*) Blogger: Tamsin Flowers

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

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

No calories!

Christmas Tattoo


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

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

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

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

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

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



The Christmas Tattoo - blurb

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

Buy links

Available at, Amazon UK, Kobo, and Xcite Books


Bradie followed him through to a small studio.  The walls in here had the same patchwork of designs and there were two work stations, one with a black reclining barber chair and the other, a sort of articulated massage bench which could be arranged into a range of positions.   A work station along one wall carried the tattoo artists’ equipment: a huge selection of ink bottles and a number of scary devices that looked for all the world like medieval torture instruments.

Bradie considered them and swallowed hard.

“Take a seat,” said Colt, going over to the bench and picking up a particularly vicious-looking instrument.

Bradie backed up and found the back of her thighs pressing against the arm of the barber chair.

“Sit.  I can’t do you standing up.”

Bradie stumbled back into the seat, her breathing suddenly faster and the sound of her heartbeat drumming in her ears.

“But… I haven’t told you…”

Colt advanced on her and pressed a button on the device.  A sudden whirring noise whined out of it.


Colt towered over her now.  He turned the gadget off. 

“You don’t remember me, do you, Bradie Clements?”

Bradie sat bolt upright.


Colt rolled his eyes.

“School.  Only four years in the same homeroom, Bradie.  We even went on a date once.  But the less said about it the better.”

Bradie closed her eyes and delved back in time.  The height… the dark eyes… a date to the movies.

“Colton Bassett?  But you had black hair at school.   And you were skinny.”

“Okay, enough,” said Colt, running a hand through his blonde hair.  “It figures, I’ve changed.  But you haven’t.  Still the long red hair.”

“So why didn’t you say anything on the train?” said Bradie.

Colt put down the tattoo gun and perched on the edge of the massage table.

“I saw you and I remembered the date.  I didn’t want to remind you of it.”

Bradie could see why.  It had ended in disaster.  She had been an innocent co-ed and Colt had tried to feel her up in the back row.  She’d panicked and run out of the theatre and then spent the rest of the school year regretting it.  The blood rose to her cheeks again.  Shit, why did he keep having this effect on her.

“And now?” she said.

“Probably better to get it out in the open if you’re gonna be in town for a bit.  Look, I’m sorry for the way I behaved back then.”

“No, I am.  I always wished I’d stayed in there.”

WTF?  She had some sort of runaway mouth on her this morning.  She bit her lip.

“That came out wrong.”

“I’ll change the subject,” said Colt.  “So what sort of tatt do you want?”

Bradie thought for  a moment and then shrugged.

“A Santa sleigh?”

Colt laughed.

“Or perhaps a candy cane?” he said.  “They’re always popular.  But seriously?”

“I had a bad year, so something that means a new beginning maybe.  Perhaps a few words or a quote.”

“Where would you have it?”

“Not on my arm or leg.  Somewhere more private.  My hip, maybe?”

The room seemed suddenly smaller, hotter.  Colt stood up.

“Show me.”

With shaking fingers Bradie popped the top button of her jeans and tugged the zip halfway undone.  Then she pushed the waist band down a way to expose the jut of her hip bone.

“Here,” she said.  It came out a whisper.

Colt came closer.  He ran his thumb over the place she indicated, brushing the top of her black lace panties.  His warm skin hummed against hers but his touch sent a red hot jolt of current up through her.  Her breath caught in her throat as she was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to stroke his skin in return.

“It’ll hurt, across the bone there.”

He moved his thumb a little closer to her navel, pushing the black lace and denim down a fraction further.

“Whereas here would be less painful.”

Bradie’s eyes met his.  Colton Bassett.  Her teenage crush.  And now with his hands back where they’d been once before.  Their eyes locked and his face came closer.  Bradie took a deep breath as a surge of adrenalin, lust and anticipation flooded through her.  Was this about to happen?

Tamsin Flowers

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

Sunday, November 24, 2013

I'm a real prize...

At least I am today!

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

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


Saturday, November 23, 2013

My Christmas wish was retro...

I had decided this year if we were able to do Christmas Eve as normal, I wanted to do a little retro Christmas dealio. We've had a nibble of retro the last few years with our Astro Weenie Trees. But I wanted to do more. Maybe dig up some 60s or 70s recipes and put them out.

Today was the yearly bazaar at a nearby church. Every year we go. Every year we find something amazing. And every year we buy our ugly Christmas gift for the kids there (a strange family tradition).

This year, in the book room, I spotted this...

I was drawn by the very ugly nature of the binder itself. Something told me to grab it. I grabbed it. And opened it.

"Oh, it's just an old church cookbook," the man said.

I read the inscription. 1963.

I said to him, "That's where the gold is."

A woman who had been trying to hog the bookshelf of cookbooks all to herself turned to stare daggers at me. I was tempted to say, lady, I've been standing here five minutes and just touched it. You had time...

Instead, I just smiled.

I began to flip through it and my heart leapt. And the retro-loving part of me giggled with glee. It was well worth the cover price of 50cents.

The best part is when we went to pay, the woman in charge of taking money, opened it, looked at it and frowned. She shook her head. "Oh, honey, this is so old and written in and marked up...I'm not going to charge you for it."

So, of course I turned and smiled at that scowling woman again and thanked the check out lady.

As you can see, it's half cookbook, half scrapbook. She's written in recipes, she's added magazine and newspaper recipes. She actually taped some recipes over others. The man said, "Either she didn't like the recipe or the person who had written it." Ha!

Here's a few shots of my treasure. I am so ridiculously happy by this book, I can't even tell you. It's making me look forward to Christmas a little, and up until now, I really wasn't. So I'm grateful for the ugly, little,! book :) Not a page of it went to waste. Honestly, I could upload a shot of every page and you'd see something new, but I'll settle for these~


p.s. Click them to make them bigger!

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Roughly a year ago today...

I posted this. Blast from the past! Ironically, the US release of Restless Spirit from Sourcebooks Casablanca is in about 12 days. Oh, how I love this book...


This is a very quick blog to give a very small squeak about some of the reviews Restless Spirit has gotten lately on Amazon US and UK.
Here goes! Bear with me just for two seconds while I do the blog version of the funky chicken :)

" Book filled with lots of sex, and very erotic BDSM scenes with a very hot cagefigher. At the end of this book, I was wishing for more." Stephanie from NC

"For this being very erotic, I really like the story and characters. I was not just all sex, it had a really great story line and I would highly encourage you to read this one!" Lori
"Dont usually write reviews but feel this one really deserved one This book had everything you need laughter, sex,lots of sex, the chase, good story kept me interested..." Chesh

"Good read, good story and TONS OF ORGASMS" Martha O

"It was well writen and OMG It was way better than fifty shades of grey.. My husband said thank you to the writer Sommer Marsden...Your Awesome!!" Roberta

"Fab book better than 50 shades once I started could not put it down, I finished in a couple of hours" Caroline UK

Yay! I have a teeny weeny touch of OCD sometimes and it makes me very happy to line these all up in a nifty little row on my blog. Thanks to all the readers who read and enjoyed the book and took a moment to do a review. It means more than you know!


Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Ready, Set...almost there...

Tomorrow you can go! Tomorrow begins Danica Avet's 1,000 Blog Post Celebration. Tons of prizes (including my newest novel, if I do say so myself) and lots of fun. Go check it out on her BLOG (so you can prepare yourself for the kick off tomorrow) or check out this Rafflecopter giveaway.

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Friday, November 15, 2013

Final blog stop and a makeover!

I have been a bad, bad blogger lately. I'm a few days behind on saying that yay! My final Restricted Release almost a blog tour blog stop was at Miz Angells' the other day. Go check out my guest spot and her nifty post :)

That ends my almost blog tour!

And while I'm here, I'll FINALLY show the new cover for the Sourcebooks release of Restless Spirit (out December 3rd!). There was a different original cover, but then this happened. And I must say, I think this cover fits Tuesday (my main character) better!

And speaking of Sourcebooks releases, there will be a Facebook chat on December 2nd that includes me and eight other authors. So mark your calendars (8 pm) and I'll be back soon with more info. I can say, I'll be giving away a don't-bother-me-I'm-reading prize pack that includes Shepherd's over-sized hoodie!

Ta and da. And happy weekend.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Blog Tour Stop: The Big Book of Orgasms edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel

Blow the horns, ring the bells! It's my day for a blog post and a giveaway for The Big Book of Orgasms edited by Rachel Kramer Bussel.

This book is packed full of dirty little stories that run the gamut. I'm still working my way through in
little bites (and if you're busy like me that's the beauty of a book like this). I can squeeze a story in here and there and in between!

For more about TBBOO go HERE or follow on Twitter.

Below is an excerpt from my story There and below THAT is a giveaway. Click all the buttons (!) and it will tell you what to do so you have a chance to win a paperback copy of TBBOO. Perfect to heat things up since the weather is just getting colder. Hurry and comment for a chance to win!


From There by Sommer Marsden

These stolen fifteen minutes are flying by. I have a mouth full of his cock and his warm pout is latched onto my slick pussy. Breaking free, I gasp, “There!”

I swallow him down, feeling his hips thrust forward just enough to get more friction, not enough to be rude. These lunchtime throw-downs in his van are the stuff legends are made of—hot, dirty, sweet, salty. All the flavors of fucking are represented. I mean, how clich├ęd are we: van sex?

Chad moves his mouth a hair to the left and I moan, the vibration surely shuddering through his body. “There?” He’s teasing me, that ass.

“No, not there. Over. Stop torturing me.”

I feel his finger slip into me, flex in my wet depths, tickle at a tender bundle of nerve endings. My nipples peak, and I touch the tip of his cock with the tip of my tongue so he groans this time.
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Friday, November 8, 2013

My *almost* last stop on the Almost a Real Blog Tour blog tour...

Thanks KD Grace for having me!

There's an excerpt of course, but I also talk about the name game, Doctor Who and how I was foiled again.

Check it out at KD's place when you get a moment.

Like I said up in the title, I think that's the last stop. Author's Note: Obviously, you can see I've changed that. I was wrong. I have one more next week! As you can see, it's an almost a real blog tour because I almost know what's going on and I almost kept track of it and I was almost organized. Almost. ;)

Happy Friday!


Wednesday, November 6, 2013

“From beneath you, it devours” or “I am the green socks”

Ever since THIS went up, I have been trying to think of what to say. Because that’s me up there. The green socks. The one everyone is banding together to help. Ironically, I am still trying to succinctly say what I want to say about THIS THING and now I am struggling with expressing my gratitude for a new gesture. For a writer, I am doing a piss poor job of explaining myself.

It isn’t helping that the last week or so has been a tricky one. I’m fighting my own mood more often than not. More so than the actual cancer patient, so you go ahead and try to figure that one out. He’s keeping his head up and his back straight and his mindset good. I am slouching and flailing and floundering along behind him.

More than once in my life, I’ve dreamt of sinkholes. They scare me for some reason. Nothing puts the hair on the back of my neck up faster than seeing news of some humongous sinkhole somewhere swallowing up…everything.
Not too long ago, maybe a year or so ago, I dreamt of one and while out with the man on a walk with the fat wiener I said, “I dreamt of a sinkhole last night. It freaked me out.”

He stopped where he was, looked at me funny and said, “Last night?”


“Me too,” he said. “But I had totally forgotten until you just said that.”

That’s what cancer feels like. A sinkhole. Opening up from out of nowhere and gulping shit down. Safety. Security. Peace. Happiness. Normality. Sanity.

Gulp, gulp, gulp.

Worse yet think of those disaster movies where someone is standing on seemingly solid ground and then gulp. Gone. They fall away into the nothing. And the person nearby starts running, and as they run the ground starts to drop away and they may…or may not make it to a place of safety. With sinkholes there is very little to hold on to.

It isn’t helping that a small sinkhole has opened in our neighborhood. I pass it every day as I walk or run (when I say run I mean to imply stumbling forward blindly with great intent, not actual graceful running). It freaks me out when I pass it because I wonder what would happen if that piece of sidewalk were just to buckle and swallow me down.


What is my fucking point? I have no idea! Actually, I do. I’m kidding. As best as I can today. LOL.
What I can say is this cancer thing is unnerving. Very much like what I described above. Buffy lovers might remember the from beneath you, it devours episodes. And much like those, we’re not dealing, in this family, with something that can be felled by a wooden stake or fire or iron or any of the things we have been told by lore will save us should the unnatural—the unthinkable—happen. This one can only be felled by something almost as bad as the villain. Chemo to the cancer. Toxins to the mutations.

And you don’t know if it’s working. You have to wait. And wonder. And struggle to find something to hold onto.

That’s where you come in. That’s where the amazing and clever Alison Tyler comes in helping right out of the gate when we were still reeling from the news. And then Bronwyn Green riding in on her magical gypsy pony (this is my mental image of her) with all her smiles and love and goodness. And all of you who have donated time or stories or goods or money (or even paused to think good things for us). You are that thing we reach out and hold on to. The goodness and the beautiful intentions, the help and the affection. It’s something to cling to.

Like I said before, for a writer, I am doing a piss poor job of expressing my (our) gratitude. But then I realize that sometimes things, gestures, help…it’s too big to be covered by anything but the simplest words.

Thank you.

And because I can’t seem to help myself with the adding of things to simple things (just ask my editors) I’ll put:

It means more than you can ever possibly know.

Sommer and family