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Posts Tagged ‘erotic romance’


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Psst! Have You Read That Filthy Book, by Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae?

Lily Harlem and Natalie Dae have a sizzling new release out called That Filthy Book. And if the excerpt they’ve shared below is any indication, I’d say the book is very aptly named!

Blurb:
Out of sight, out of mind. Or so I thought, but it turns out an old, dog-eared book with contents so filthy and so depraved that I’d been forced to hide it after reading, has sank deeper into my erotic subconscious than I’d ever imagined. Luckily though, Jacob is up for exploring the new side of me that has risen to the surface after all these years.

In a whirlwind of wanton adventures that push us to the limits of our sexuality, we begin to re-discover what it once was that had us screaming with pleasure and how to accept that nothing will ever be the same again between us.

Reader Advisory: This book contains bondage, BDSM and an element of dubious consent within a consensually acted out rape scenario.

Excerpt From That Filthy Book (18+)

It seemed Lady Luck had joined us for our journey, giving the green light for all our needs to be met only three days after my confession of what I really wanted him to do with that branch.

Jacob’s parents had asked if they could take the girls to a circus on Saturday night. It started at eight, didn’t finish until ten, so they’d suggested it was more sensible that they keep them until Sunday morning, possibly Sunday afternoon if the children fancied having a roast dinner with them at the local pub.

I was not about to turn that opportunity down, especially when Jacob had been hot for the idea of outside sex. In fact, he’d been more than up for it, and the excited glint in his eye when I’d held up the carefully stripped bark had sent a tremble to my very core. Something told me I’d hit another very dark and very sinful nerve of his.

But always one to think of others, Jacob had already promised to help a work colleague move house on the Saturday. I didn’t mind too much because it left me with an empty afternoon to prepare for our evening of fun. I started with a pamper accompanied by a glass of wine, treating myself to a cucumber face mask, sugar body scrub, shave—including my pussy—manicure and pedicure and finally a generous slathering of body butter.

It left me feeling tingly and smooth, as if my body was honed and prepared. The thought of my silky, clean skin and perfectly neat red nails out in the open, amongst dirt and leaves, with the sootiness of bark mould smudged randomly over my body had me panting with excitement. I could just imagine mud squelching around my toes and the creamy skin of my wrists worn red by ropes. And the image of my arse marked raw by the branch, well, that had me feeling like a sacrificial offering.

For I knew that this evening I would be handing myself over to nature, to Jacob, and to my own darkest desires. The bare bones of my soul were about to be revealed. No holds barred, no chance to hide. They were the very skeleton of me that only Jacob would ever set eyes on.

When the dipping sun sent lilac and crimson fingers darting over the horizon I was ready—more than ready. I’d had a light tea and another glass of wine, resisted the temptation to masturbate—just—and saved myself for my husband.

The front door opened with a whoosh, then shut with a resounding slam. I spun from the kitchen window where I’d been staring at the darkening copse.

The copse that was ready and waiting.

Heavy footsteps banged down the hall. Loud and resolute, the sound reverberated around my head.

This was it. There was no turning back.

I didn’t want to. Not for anything.

The door swung open, and there he stood, with his broad shoulders filling the frame and his head bowed slightly. He pulled his brows low and set his jaw. A small muscle flexed and unflexed in his cheek.

“Get down on your knees, bitch.”

I gasped at the completely thrilling sound of his bad man’s voice and folded my legs until my knees landed on the freshly swept lino. He was so feral, so dominant, not Jacob the protector, the carer. No, tonight I had Jacob the master, the taker, the giver of sinful pleasure.
Between one breath and the next he was in front of me, his groin level with my face and his hands on his hips. The scent of man and hard physical work washed over me, as well as perhaps a hint of a greasy spoon cafe where he’d no doubt been treated to pie and chips for the efforts of his day.

“Take out my cock.”

I reached for the buttons on his jeans, surprised to see that my hands trembled. Excitement? Trepidation?

This had not been part of any plan, but I wasn’t complaining. In fact, there wasn’t a plan. All Jacob had asked was that I trust him. He said that he understood what I wanted and would make it all happen for me. Of course, we had a safe word, but I couldn’t imagine I would need it. I trusted Jacob with my life and my pleasure. I always would.

“Hurry up,” he said, tangling his fingers in my neatly brushed, softly conditioned hair. “Take it out and suck it.”
After I freed his cock, his length sprang into my palm, hot and thick, and the purple veins winding up the shaft bulged with his keen arousal.
In a sharp movement, he jerked forward and the tip slid into my salivating mouth. “Wider, whore,” he snarled. “Take me, all of me.”

I stretched my jaw and he sank deep, sliding to the back of my throat in one urgent movement. I gagged but he ignored it; pulled back then rode in again, all the time holding my head in a tight, vice-like grip so I had no choice but to take him, tip to base.

I’d sucked on Jacob’s cock a million times, but never had he taken control like this. He was always respectful and deathly still, allowing me to determine depth and pace. But this was different—this was sinful, depraved Jacob fucking my mouth without a thought for my well-being.
I adored it.

Needing support as my body was jostled by his thrusting hips, I gripped his thighs. Saliva ran down my face and neck onto my red blouse, my nose repeatedly buried in his wiry pubic hair. He steamed on and on, hissing and cursing above me. Breathing was difficult, my mouth was so chock-full of hard, demanding cock. When I did catch a breath the air was heated and smelt of him, musky and raw.

“Get fucking ready for it,” he snarled, thrusting to such a depth his balls slapped against my chin. “I’m going to come down your throat. I’m going to fill you up, now…argh…fuck…now.”

He let out a garrotted cry as his cock swelled further, then, in several sweet pulses, copious amounts of fluid gushed over my tongue. I swallowed rapidly, the action tugging the crown of his cock further down my throat.

“Ah, sweet…fucking…Jesus,” he hissed, gripping my hair. “That’s it, keep sucking, swallow me.”

I did as he asked. My body quivered, and I could almost come myself just from the feel and taste of him climaxing so hard and forcefully. Had he lain there all those millions of times I’d sucked him off, restraining himself? Had he wanted to throw me down and fuck my mouth in a hard, abandoned way, but resisted?

I didn’t have time to dwell on this because Jacob pulled out, gripped my upper arms and dragged me into a standing position. Gasping, I stared into his flushed face. His mouth was parted as he drew in big lungfuls of air. His eyes sparkled, the pupils wide and dilated, showing me the dark depths of his most basic needs.
“That’s just the beginning,” he said in a rasping, breathy voice. “To take the edge off what you’ve had me thinking of for three days.” He slanted his mouth down hard over mine, taking possession of my lips and tongue in a furious, ravenous kiss. He pulled away abruptly. “You’re such a tease,” he muttered, “tempting me, turning me on. Well, now you’re going to get it. You’re going to get punished for making a man want you so bad it hurts his soul.”

Buy Link
http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?strParents=&CAT_ID=&P_ID=1604

Author Bios

Natalie Dae is a multi-published author in three pen names writing several genres. She lives with her husband, children, and three cats in an English village. She writes full time and is also a cover artist and blog designer. In another life she was an editor. Her other pen names are Sarah Masters and Charley Oweson.

Website:  http://www.emmyellis.com

Lily Harlem is an award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance and writes for Total-E-Bound, Ellora’s Cave and Xcite as well as featuring in numerous UK and US anthologies. She lives in the UK and since giving up a career in nursing adores indulging a decidedly naughty side of her personality by writing ultra-sexy stories.

Website: http:// www.lilyharlem.com

 

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The Story Behind Kay Jaybee’s Sexy Novella, Not Her Type

When www.OystersandChocolate.com asked me to write a novella for their brand new e-print company, the OCPress, I was beyond delighted. I had no hesitation in agreeing, and there was never any question of what my subject matter would be.

Back in 2007 I wrote a serial for Oysters and Chocolate entitled, Going Against Type, about the adventures of a delivery man and one of his regular customers. It was amazing fun to write, and almost from the start I wanted to take the idea and turn it into a novella. So, when the opportunity arose, the characters of Jenny (a home working accountant who has regular DVD deliveries), and John (her rough and ready courier), took on a new dimension, and began a sexual adventure of a lifetime.

When Jenny’s regular film courier, John, reveals how she has become the centre of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned.

One unexpected, head swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again, and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend that it hadn’t happened?

When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There is only one problem. John really really isn’t Jenny’s type….

So- what was it that made me want to write about a delivery guy in the first place?

The short answer is, that due to the nature of my “proper” job, I have visits from a handful (I use the word “handful” wisely), of delivery men every week, and boy are they HOT. More importantly, they are all kind, loyal, and work incredibly hard. They also all love what I produce on the writing front, and never miss an opportunity to “suggest” ideas for new stories.

Let’s face it- these guys spend a lot of time driving around on their own. They have WAY TOO MUCH TIME TO THINK- and I am here to tell you that they do not think about what might be for dinner, or if they should mow the lawn that day!!

When I set out to write any story, I want everyone to be able to relate to it in some way. By using the figure of the delivery man, I hope I achieved that. Nearly all of us have had men and women arriving on our doorsteps with a package, and come on- be honest here- how many of you have fantasised about inviting that courier across the threshold??

From a writer’s perspective it is great fun to be able to take such a scenario and turn it into a naughty tale. In this case, I used the idea to allow Jenny and John to meet just once a week- each of their meetings becoming slightly more erotic and exotic than the next.

Not Her Type may start quietly vanilla; but if you have ever read any of my other work, you will know that it won’t stay like that for very long!

In this extract, from week six of their liaison, things are most certainly hotting up. John has had things his own way for the past five weeks, and Jenny has decided that it is high time she turned the tables…

I have a plan. I just hope I can hold my courage and see it through…

“I don’t have long.”

John’s familiar words spilled from his mouth as he crossed the threshold of Jenny’s home. Throwing a handful of DVDs carelessly across the sofa, his lips were on hers before she had the chance to speak, his hands diving up and under her mini denim skirt. A murmur of appreciation escaped him as his traveling fingertips discovered her lack of knickers and stocking tops. “Shit woman, you get hotter!”

Allowing him to fall into their regular pattern, Jenny let John lead her toward the armchair. “You wanton woman, you’re already wet aren’t you?”

“I knew you were on your way.” Jenny didn’t say anything else as she undid his buttons, pulling his belt from his trousers, loop by loop. Stroking the leather lovingly between her fingers she smiled, “Did I ever tell you that I love belts?”

Without waiting for a response, Jenny freed his length and made a fist around his cock. She pumped him twice—as she’d pre-planned in the solo-quiet of the previous evening— before abruptly letting go of him and walking away.

John’s face was a vision of pure confusion as, with hands on her hips, Jenny calmly said, “Get on your knees, delivery man.” He only hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping free of his pants and dropping to the floor.

Moving forward, without a word, Jenny gestured for John to remove his t-shirt. Walking around him in a slow circle, she examined him from every angle. John had had things his own way for weeks. It was her turn now. The old Jenny had certainly been willingly submissive; someone who relished being led rather than leading, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have the occasional urge to turn the tables and make her partner beg for mercy. She just hoped she hadn’t lost her touch.

Taking a black scarf from a collection of supplies she’d hidden beneath the sofa, Jenny deftly tied his arms behind his back. Unable to hide her pleasure as she continued to study him, Jenny whispered, “There is truly nothing as fantastic to behold as a fuck-me handsome man without power.”

Kneeling before John, she saw that his wide, dark brown eyes were watching her intently. Kissing each of his eyelids, Jenny collected a blindfold from its hiding place and, with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows and a teasing waggle of her fingers, plunged him into darkness. As John opened his mouth to speak, his favorite customer placed a fingertip across his lips. “No talking. Yes?”

John nodded obediently.

Viewing her enslaved lover, Jenny stroked his chest, enjoying the light spring of his hair as it tickled her palms. She knew she was going to make John late for the remainder of his rounds, but she didn’t care, and was going to make sure that he didn’t either.

Reveling in her unprecedented freedom, Jenny let her skirt fall to the floor, her memory teeming with images of their previous animal coupling in the back of his lorry. Her knees and backside still bore the marks of their frantic encounter.

Discarding her shirt and freeing her breasts, she made sure the cotton material caressed John’s tattoos, cleverly letting him know that she was undressing. Jenny placed her hands on John’s shoulders, pushing him so that he was face down on the beige carpet, his hands bound behind him, his arse in the air.

Beginning at his feet, Jenny began a thorough survey of his whole body by stroking a silk handkerchief over his ankles, making John writhe under its tickling touch. Moving it stealthily up the back of his legs, she could taste the sharp tang of tension that infused the room.

He squirmed under her touch. Jenny could tell he was trying to anticipate her next move while struggling not to speak, and she smiled to herself as she dragged the gentle weapon of torture up behind his knees.

By the time Jenny approached the rounded cheeks of his magnificent arse, John’s breathing was ragged, and his tethered hands were clenched together with the effort of not pleading with her to speed up.

Completely absorbed in her task, alternating between both light and firm pressure, Jenny smoothed every inch of his back, his bum, and his sides with the handkerchief, making John flinch and whine until, as she reached his neck, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer, “Oh hell girl, I…”
Cutting through John’s sentence, Jenny said, “As I said earlier, I am very fond of belts. I particularly like the marks they leave behind when they bite the flesh. That sort of blotched, fuzzy, pink patchwork pattern.”

Winding the leather strap around her wrist before she took aim…

From spanking to bondage, threesome action, and full on (occasionally shocking) kink, Not Her Type: Erotic Adventures With A Delivery Man, covers all the bases as Jenny discovers the extent of her delivery man’s sexual fantasies. Meanwhile, John discovers just how far from Jenny’s usual “type” he really is…

Buy Not Her Type Here:

http://oceroticbooks.com/CatalogueRetrieve.aspx?ProductID=4716776

Kay Jaybee’s Website: http://kayjaybee.me.uk/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KayJaybeeAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/kay_jaybee

 

 

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The Cottage in the Woods: The Latest Heat from Lucy Felthouse

A new Lesbian paranormal erotic romance by Lucy Felthouse.

Blurb:

Living in her remote cottage in the woods, Heidi doesn’t get many visitors. So when she spots a fox in her garden, she’s delighted. However, her joy quickly turns to dismay when she thinks the beautiful creature may be injured. Heading out to see how she can help, Heidi is astounded when something happens that makes her question her eyesight – not to mention her sanity. Once she gets over her shock and discovers the reason behind the peculiar encounter, Heidi is mighty glad that the fox chose her garden to visit.

Excerpt:

A movement in the garden caught Heidi’s attention immediately. She peered out into the dark, her hands still immersed in the washing up bowl as she tried to catch another glimpse of whatever was lurking in the darkness outside her kitchen window. She wasn’t frightened, merely curious. She lived so far out in the wilderness that it could only be an animal, and the last time she’d checked, they couldn’t open locked doors. So she was perfectly safe.

What made her nocturnal visitor so unusual was its proximity to the house. Animals were braver in the city, where they’d become used to humans. But out here, they were still timid and very wary of man. Heidi’s little cottage was practically screaming that it was occupied, with its smoking chimney and blazing lights and yet the creature – whatever it was – was almost outside the window. Heidi frowned. Something definitely wasn’t right.

Another flash of movement, and Heidi finally identified her visitor. The beautiful russet fur, big bushy tail with flecks of white – there was a fox in her garden.

Grinning, Heidi rushed to dry her hands on a tea towel and then moved across the room to flick off the light switch. She waited until her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, then made her way back to the window. She spied the fox immediately, crouched down beside the hedge surrounding her garden, as though it was hunting something. A life-long nature lover, Heidi smiled, truly appreciating the stunning beauty of the creature. But the longer Heidi watched the animal, the more confused she became.

The fox hadn’t moved for some time. If it was hunting, surely it would have pounced by now? A sinking feeling rolled through Heidi’s stomach. Perhaps it wasn’t stalking after all, but lying down because it was injured? She knew that out here, if the fox was hurt, it had been attacked by another predator, rather than had a run-in with a moving vehicle. After all, the only vehicle around these parts was hers, so unless her truck had gone all Christine, it certainly wasn’t that.

No, it had to be another animal. It was survival of the fittest, the food chain and all that. She knew how these things worked, but there was no way she could leave the poor creature suffering in her garden. Not if she could do something about it.

Heidi began to plan exactly what to do. She knew that if the fox was injured and couldn’t move, it could snap at her in self-defence, it having no idea that her intentions were good. She desperately wanted to help the vulnerable creature, but preferably without ending up needing stitches and a tetanus shot.

As Heidi gazed into the darkness, trying to work out a solution, she lost her mind. At least, that’s the conclusion she came to as her eyes relayed an image to her brain which couldn’t possibly be accurate.

Book trailer link: http://youtu.be/utJRVepZ6Mw

More info & buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/the-cottage-in-the-woods/

Lucy is a graduate of the University of Derby, where she studied Creative Writing. During her first year, she was dared to write an erotic story – so she did. It went down a storm and she’s never looked back. Lucy has had stories published by Cleis Press, Constable and Robinson, House of Erotica, Noble Romance, Ravenous Romance, Resplendence Publishing, Summerhouse Publishing, Sweetmeats Press and Xcite Books. She is also the editor of Uniform Behaviour and Seducing the Myth. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9

 

 

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Ghosts, Witches, Magic, and a Big Blisse Kiss

I’m very happy to be participating in the Big Blisse Kiss for Valentines Day with a big kiss and a big giveaway, which I’ll tell you all about after the big kiss.  The hardest part of participating in the Big Blisse Kiss was choosing only one kiss. Since my novel, Body Temperature and Rising, has just been released in print and the huge celebration with the  More Bag Reading Slam and Launch Party will be happening the 24th and 25th at the London Sh! Stores, the kiss had to be a yummy paranormal one from said novel.

In Body Temperature and Rising, Our lovely heroine, Marie Warren, has the power to enflesh ghosts so they can enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, not a power she had much use for in her previous career in the banking industry; not a power she even knew she had. However, it’s not without its fringe benefits.

A Kiss from Body Temperature and Rising

‘Tell me what I have to do with any of this,’ Marie said. ‘How is this mess my fault?’

For a long moment no one responded. Everyone looked a bit embarrassed including Anderson, but Tara didn’t budge. Still holding Marie’s gaze, Tara spoke. ‘Anderson, show her.’

The ghost shifted in his seat. The colour in his face darkened and the clench of the muscles along his exquisite jaw looked granite hard. When he spoke, his voice was tightly controlled. ‘Tara, my darling, perhaps this is not the ideal way to –’

‘Do it,’ Tara cut him off with a sudden raise of her hand and a swish of the wide silk of her sleeve that snapped almost like a sail in the wind. The tension in the room rose another notch. Sky and Fiori shot each other a surreptitious glance that even Marie could tell was not one of comfort and ease.

Anderson’s spine stiffened. All emotion disappeared from his face, but his voice was suddenly icy. ‘Very well, as you wish, Madame. ’He bowed his head briefly in acquiescence, than lifted his dark eyes to Marie. His gaze softened as did his voice. ‘My dear Marie, I am truly sorry for what I am about to do.’ Then instantly he was gone, vanished into thin air.

The startled gasp that pushed its way past her lips was followed by another tight sting and tug low in her belly. ‘What happened,’ Marie asked when she regained her equilibrium, ‘Why did you send him away?’

Tara sat back in her chair and rested both hands against the arms. She looked suddenly regal. ‘I’ve not sent him anywhere. He hasn’t moved.’ She nodded to the sofa where Anderson had been sitting next to Marie.

Before she could think about the implications, she reached out her hand to the space where he had been. There was a collective gasp among the witches, herself and Anderson as her fingers touched the marble cold of his arm that instantly began to warm beneath her touch. Anderson’s heavy intake of breath vibrated through her hand and up her own arm, then down in her belly where the fireworks were, and suddenly he was there again. His eyelids fluttered and his lips parted, and everything in her wanted him with an ache that was almost unbearable.

She cried out and pulled her hand back, not from fear, not from surprise, but from the embarrassment at just how close she was to coming, and just how badly she wanted to. And as surely as he was sitting there again, she knew by his own deep-chested groan that he was riding the edge with her, that his need was as great as her own.

Tara nodded to Anderson, who then leaned forward toward Marie. ‘With your permission, my love.’

It felt like it was supposed to happen. It felt like nothing else could possibly happen. With lips parted, he took her mouth. There was little more than a feather’s flick of his tongue and a brush of his breath against her lips. His hand cupped her cheek, then moved along her nape to the back of her neck cradling her close to his breath, his delicious warm, superfluous breath.

And she came, trembling and grasping and pulling him to her, whispering his name into his mouth, oblivious to the three witches watching. And as she returned his kiss with her own, she heard his grunt, felt him convulse and tremble against her, sharing in her lust and her release, and suddenly she wasn’t embarrassed at all. Suddenly she felt freer than she could remember ever feeling before. It was exhilarating, wild, totally mad, and she never wanted the feeling to end.

But it did end, and it ended with an icy flash of the man snapping Fiori’s neck in the cave. They both felt it, she could tell by the shudder down Anderson’s spine followed immediately by the protective way he tightened his embrace around her as though he were steadying her.

Then she was shoving and pushing her way up from the sofa babbling hysterically about wanting to know what was going on and wanting to know right now. The business woman in her stood back and shook her head disgustedly while the rest of her dissolved into a puddle of hysteria until Tara took her face between her hands and said calmly. ‘Stop it. If you want the truth then behave like you can handle it.’

Want more kisses?

I’m giving away a WHOLE novel full! Leave a comment to win a PDF of your choice of my novels, The Initiation of Ms Holly, or The Pet Shop. Both novels are very well supplied with hot, steamy, delectable kisses, and a whole lot more.

Want even MORE kisses? And lots more cool giveaways? Don’t miss out on all of the other fabulous posts from the other Blisse Kissers participating in the Big Blisse Kiss. You’ll find lots more yumminess on the Blisse Kiss Site

 

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Sommer Marsden: Long Lost and Then Some

I’d like to welcome one of my favourite authors, Sommer Marsden, back again. This time Sommer is answering questions about Long Lost,  her yummy paranormal sequal to Big Bad. Welcome, Sommer!

KD: After finishing Long Lost, without giving anything away, it seems pretty clear we’ll be seeing more of Ruby and Ellis and Tyler and their friends. Without giving anything away, can you give us a teaser?

SM: Nope! In order to give you a teaser, I would have had to have written some of the book. As of yet, there is no book. The door has been open for there to be a book. But no book is in the works. Eek!

KD: *Folds arms across chest and pouts* Guess we’ll just have to wait then.

I was intrigued by the idea of ‘The Town,’ the place where the werewolves lived. How did you come up with the idea of a town as werewolf central?

SM: I would love to say something clever, but I have no clue. To me wolves/weres are pack animals. So pack animals tend to stay in their own pack and out of the lives of others. Town just made sense on some level to me, without me really thinking about it. And the name was just sort of my own little joke.

KD: When you wrote Big Bad did you already have a series in mind, or did that come later?

SM: I had no intention of there being a second book until about ¾ of the way through. Then I realized if the story played out the way it seemed to be going, there had to be a second book. No question.

KD: What inspired the series?

SM: I have to admit, I have no idea! I just got the idea one day while walking the dog. It came out of nowhere and once the characters started talking to me—Ellis, Ruby and Tyler all at once—I had no choice but to go home and start.

KD: What did you find the most fun about writing Big Bad and Long Lost? What was hardest?

SM: The humor was the most fun. The characters, even ‘side characters’ like Peabody, had a true back and forth with one another that was fun to sit and transcribe. When they bickered or gave each other a hard time, I’d often get the giggles. The hardest part for me, especially for book two, was to make sure I had a good balance of drama and humor and all that jazz. But my characters usually tend to themselves pretty well, I only have to monitor so much.

KD: Other forays into the paranormal on the horizon?

SM: Always! I have a book that’s been done for a while but I tucked it away for various reasons. But now I think I’m ready to dust it off, clean it up, put it out and work on the sequel. I also have plans for another paranormal in the near future that hopefully will be really fun but also kind of touching.

KD: Who was your favourite character to write?

SM: Ellis! EllisEllisEllis. He is one of my favourite characters ever. He’s based on a very real person who’s on TV pretty regularly. When this guy came on TV the other night, the man happened to have his hand on my foot and he said, “I just felt your pulse go up…through your toe.”

Ellis has a wicked but subtle sense of humor. I think that’s why I adore him so much. And he handles Ruby’s lunacy pretty well. And God, does he love her.

KD: Who did you find most difficult?

SM: The bad guys. The bad guys are always hard for me because I’d always rather write the fun and the humor and the sex. But I knew I did okay from my beta reader. He got goosebumps in the first book when I introduced my bad guy and he didn’t sniff out the villain in this one until the appropriate time. So I was pleased with myself.

KD: What was the highlight of 2011 for Sommer Marsden.

SM: Most unfair question ever! LOL. There were so many, to be honest, and for that I am grateful. I would have to say Big Bad and Long Lost coming out. I have such a love for those two books, I was very excited (and terrified) for them to come out. But so very glad when they did. So of a year full of good stuff, I guess I’d have to choose the release of those two novels as the cherry on top.

KD: What are you most looking forward to in 2012?

SM: My novel Restless Spirit comes out with Xcite in April, and I am so vibratey over that release! Also, an unnamed (secret!) novel that comes out soonish from Excessica is very anticipation-worthy too. Plus there are some super-secret upcoming projects that I am equally psyched and scared of 🙂

KD: *Rubs hands together conspiratorially* Ooooh, I love secrets! And one last Long Lost question: In your head, have you pictured what the movie version of LL would look like? If so, who would play whom and do you have a specific setting in mind?

SM: That is always a hard question for me because I don’t think that way about my books. Willsin Rowe was my beta reader for these books. I think that would be a super good question for him. I might have to ask him since he would leave me comments in the sidebar like ‘when the movie version of this comes out…’ 🙂 For me Ellis Bach is the celebrity chef Scott Conant. Ruby is faceless because, as sad as this might sound, all my heroines are sort of written from some small part of the core of me, so I don’t give them faces. Tyler is also faceless in my head as is Peabody. Wow. I am very unexciting. I tend to write more with a feel of a characters personality in my head than their actual appearance.

I would love to hear what people who have read the books think. Who they’d cast as Ellis, Ruby, Tyler and Peabody.

As for setting, most of my settings are local. I pick a piece of my city that I’ve lived in and write with that in my head as a setting. It tends to make it more realistic. Plus, I don’t mess up as much!

KD: What’s on the horizon for Sommer Marsden?

SM: Lots of freaking out, two books coming soon, more books being written, shorts in various anthologies, some novellas in an exciting project and hopefully some kind of Zen epiphany where I calm down and get organized. And then a pig will fly by my window. On a unicorn’s back. Carrying a leprechaun.

Blurb:

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

Buy Links:

Sold through Excessica: http://www.excessica.com/books/index.php?main_page=product_info&cPath=22&products_id=492 and numerous other online vendors.
Print Version:  https://www.createspace.com/3687776

 

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The Romance Reviews

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