That’s right! My girl Sommer is back, and she’s got a brand new book out! Check out this blurb, and we’ve got a super NSFW excerpt coming up after the interview.
A dark secret keeps Bishop Kelly unattached and closed off. She has only one persistent friend, and now she’s moving away from him.
Running her online fitness group from a borrowed professor’s home in Constantine Falls, New York, seems like any other life decision. There’s no one to consult and no one who has her back. Life is what it is – a solo gig.
Bishop isn’t expecting a strange local, Finn “Honey” Sinclair, to jump start her memories, her desire, and her heart. He has his own intense history that haunts him. In the heart of this oddly quaint town, Bishop is suddenly learning that even in the midst of unexpected loss, there can be inexplicable gain.
Love that cover, now, let’s find out what’s happening with Sommer.
What’s a typical day like for you?
Chaos. I get up whenever the Bearded Giant gets up (except for the mornings I can’t drag my ass out of bed). I make coffee for me, tea for he, then I hop around and check all my online stuff with cup number one. Cup number two is the reading cup. It builds reading time into my day because it might be all I get.
The Bearded Giant usually leaves for work somewhere between cup one and cup two. I finish the coffee and begin to do the things. Specifically, if it’s M-F I work out. Some insane workout, often followed by a run. Then it’s a shower, take pics for my Instagram daily book post, then some stuff around the house. I usually realize what time it is, panic, shove all my stuff in my messenger bag, put my crap in the car, and my butt usually goes to the ‘office’ which is the café. Writing time ensues for a few hours.
After that, it’s usually home to get stuff done, see my people, eat the foods, and whatever else we get up to.
When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?
At about four years old. I’m stubborn. I stick with my goals.
What made you realize you wanted to write romance?
I was accidentally good at it in an offbeat way. Some of the romances I’ve read, I could never write. Ever. But my kind of romance, my kind of characters…somehow it worked not just for me, but for readers.
What do you consider your greatest accomplishment?
Surviving the curve balls life has thrown at me. There have been some doozies. Still here. Still kicking.
Do you have any collections?
Dangerous question. I have a huge collection of vintage 70s, 80s, and 90s horror paperbacks. And I’m still hunting them down. Pyrex…retro kitchenalia in general, funky T-shirts and leggings, and just plain oddities. Our house is like the funkiest junk/antique store ever.
Do you have any hobbies?
Haunting thrift stores, junk shops, used book stores, and road tripping.
Do you have any bad habits?
I burn the candle at both ends (and sometimes the middle) and wonder why I’m tired. I’d say slacking on self-care is my worst habit.
Do you have any pet peeves?
People who cannot remove their heads from their asses. We seem to have a glut of those lately.
Are there any skills you’d like to learn?
Knitting/crocheting. Someone taught me to crochet once. I made one lopsided scarf and promptly forgot what I was taught. Gone! 100%
What are some of your writing goals?
To get back to the prolific ways I had a few years back. I was fast and I was motivated. Life changed and I changed with it. In some ways for the better, but man, I miss the speed and constant chatter in my head to start the next book.
What are three of your best writing tips?
- If you write, you’re a writer.
- If it’s chattering to you and won’t shut up, write it down ASAP. Don’t think you’ll remember it. You might not.
- You’re going to have negative self-talk in your head. Tune it out, put your head down, and write anyway. Don’t believe everything you think.
Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what do you listen to?
No! All I’d do is sing. I let the TV chatter in the background. More often than not, it’s Supernatural on reruns.
What’s your favorite word?
What’s your least favorite word?
What’s your favorite curse word?
What sound do you love?
The sound of my family carrying on and laughing.
What sound do you hate?
There’s a beagle in my neighborhood who stays outside 24/7 once the weather is decent. He bays constantly. Con-stant-ly.
Dog or cat person?
Dog! Have you seen my Oyvie? Yes? I’ll attach a picture anyway!
City or country?
On the line.
Morning or night person?
Get things done early or procrastinate?
I don’t have “expert procrastinator” in my bio by accident, my friend.
Introvert or extrovert?
An extroverted introvert. I am truly an introvert. I enjoy people and like to be around them, but for limited amounts of time and then I need a massive recharge alone or with just my people.
What do you like best about writing?
That I can create something from nothing.
What do you like least?
The synopsis. Ugh.
If you were a book, which book would you be and why?
The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck. Mainly because I keep trying to learn how to not give a fuck.
What was your favorite childhood book?
Bruce’s Loose Tooth. It had a string than ran through the entire book.
What are your favorite kinds of stories to tell?
Scary, funny, and sexy.
What are your favorite kinds of books to read?
Horror, thriller, mystery.
You’ve had a lot going on in your life, and it’s been a while since you’ve published. How does it feel to put new work out in the world?
Amazing. And a little scary. I was afraid people had forgotten me. This business is very go-go-go. If you don’t stay super prolific you can become irrelevant. For the last few years I’ve only been doing short fiction. Luckily, readers hadn’t forgotten me and I’ve founds some brand-new ones. I’m a little relieved and very grateful!
What do you like best about Bishop?
That she feels no pressure to be “on” for people or change anything about herself for anyone.
What do you like best about Honey?
His self-awareness and deeply buried kindness.
Are there other characters in your story that you’re especially fond of? Why?
All of them, really. Most people who read me know that I do not write books with a ton of characters or a lot of moving parts. I’m very character focused in my novels. If a person is in the book, I like them for some reason. Even if it’s not evident at first.
Were there any scenes that were particularly difficult to write? If so, how?
In a lot of ways, the whole book was difficult. It was my first new novel after losing my husband in 2014. I have a brand-new life now. I have a wonderful boyfriend and he has a son and my kids love both of them. We’ve created a new family unit. I have a second chance at living. I’m a very lucky person. I think, no matter what, there will always be some survivor’s guilt with that.
There are some elements to the book—Honey’s loss, his mother’s recent loss, and Bishop’s past along with her current fears of loss—that were difficult to write without sinking into them completely. I think that’s why it took so long to write. I had to go slow and attack it at different angles. Then special dates (anniversary, birthday, anniversary of death) would come up and I’d put the book on hold for a week or two. Once, I put it aside for an entire month. It usually takes me 6-8 weeks to write a book. This one took almost a year, I believe.
Loss and hope are big in this book. For a dirty book, it has its deep moments, I guess. This book was as good as a few months of therapy, I think.
If you were to cast your book as a movie, who would you choose to play your characters?
I am terrible at this game. It’s not how my brain works at all. But I would love to hear how the people who have read the book would cast the characters. That would be amazing!
What’s up next for you?
All fingers and toes crossed, I have a horror/dark fiction novella currently under consideration with a bucket list publisher (under a different name) and I’ve been focusing some of my time on writing in that genre. However, after seeing the reaction to Honey, and seeing some of the reviews (yes! I admit it! Curiosity got to me. Usually, I don’t read any at all, but it’s been so long and I have no self-control), I’m thinking I’d like to go ahead and start brainstorming another erotic novel. Which thrills me. Feeling that spark again.
What would you most like readers to know about you and your books?
That I appreciate every single interaction online. Every comment on Facebook or response on Twitter. That I am truly grateful to everyone who buys my work, reads it, reviews it, messages me about it, recommends it, or just talks about it. Writing can be a solitary thing. You can often feel like you’re shouting into the darkness. So, when someone peeks their head in and says, “Hey, I just read fill in the blank and I loved it!” that can bring a lot of light to the darkness. Every book is written with love and passion. Every book is a piece of me.
Everything in the above interview are just a few of the reasons I adore the fuck out of Sommer Marsden. Oh, and remember that super NSFW excerpt I promised you? Well, here it is!
…A creak on the steps. She sat up. Bishop reached for the closest thing, which was not her phone. Sadly, it was charging on the small table by the window. What was closest was a weighted exercise bar. She got up on her knees, keeping herself away from the door, ready and armed.
The muzzle came into view first, and a flash of terror mixed with confusion lanced through her. Then the thing turned and looked at her—vibrant blue eyes, fake but vibrant, the fur a mix of salt and pepper. A growl emanated from it, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or scream.
“How’s this, Pennsylvania? Now you don’t have to look at my face.”
He advanced, and she considered swinging the baton. Almost did. Then she thought better of it. She was enraged but also turned on. Her body beat with a fast and heavy lust that was only a split second from being full on panic. Her blood felt too thick, her veins too full, her body too heavy, like gravity was working overtime.
“No?” she said, catching the fact that she nodded as she said the word.
He laughed from inside the mask, and the timbre of it sent a shiver shockwave up her spine. A fine sweat had settled atop her skin, leaving her feeling both hot and clammy at the same time, like she had a fever. And yet, between her thighs, her pussy beat hot and heavy in time with her heart.
“You should go,” she managed. She licked her lips and let the baton fall a bit. It was getting heavy, and her biceps twitched with the effort of being on red alert and holding something that dense. Her head was buzzy, and her heart rate still hadn’t managed to come down.
He advanced, and she felt her pussy contract—empty but eager. She felt on the verge of orgasm despite the fact that he was in the doorway and hadn’t even touched her.
“Should I?” He unbuttoned his jeans and slid the zipper down.
She tried to look away—wanted to look away—but she also knew damn well she wanted him. Whatever this was, whatever fucked up game they were playing, it was in her wheelhouse. She didn’t know how she felt about that, but she’d figure it out later. For now, she had to figure out how to get what she wanted—him —and still save face.
“You should. But if you don’t, I warn you, when you come at me, I will fight you.”
“Because you want to say no?” he asked, taking another step. He had his cock out in his big rough hand and was stroking it.
Another spasm deep inside her. Another small blip of pleasure that made her feel like she’d come the moment he laid a finger on her.
“Because I want to say yes.”
That earned another laugh from the big bad wolf. He moved fast, faster than Bishop anticipated. His body hit her hard enough to knock the wind out of her but not hard enough to actually hurt her. He had her on her belly, pinned, his lean hips straddling hers. “I know you’re strong, Pennsylvania. I wouldn’t expect anything less than a fight. Even if you want it.”
She could feel his hard cock riding the small of her back, and she shut her eyes against a wave of anticipation mixed with anxiety.
“Off,” she grunted, bucking her hips up and back. He rocked, slid a little, but still managed to stay on top of her.
Finn gathered a handful of her hair and tugged. Pain lanced through her scalp, and his cock twitched, hard and hot, against her skin. She cried out, bucked again and managed an elbow up and into his side. A lucky shot, given her angle, but it landed and did the job. He grunted, and when his center of gravity was off, she managed to toss him so he slid to her right. She scrambled up onto her knees, her oversized tee bunching around her hips. She didn’t have any panties on and that realization slammed her with arousal and fear in equal measure.
He reached out and grabbed her thigh, and hooking his hand through it, he pulled her toward him fast and hard, and she lost her balance. She splayed atop him, chest to chest, face to face, his wolf chin rapping her cheekbone.
Finn grabbed her hair again, wrenching her head back. His mask was askew and his mouth came down on her neck, a desperate, hot, aggressive kiss that was almost not a kiss at all. Mouth turned to teeth. He bit her hard enough to make her gasp then raked his teeth across the thumping spot of flesh.
His other hand was at the small of her back, so strong and hard, it was like an iron bar. “Glad you’re in, Bishop. It’s never fun to wrestle with just yourself and your own demons. Always more fun to have a good knockdown, drag out fight with someone else and theirs.”
He pulled her hair, and his fingers dug into her back. She growled, trying to bring a knee up and failing. All the while, his cock lay pressed against her belly. Her pussy grew wetter, with a rush of fluid, whether evoked by want or anxiety she didn’t know. Probably both.
She bumped her hips up to dislodge him and failed. His big hand was splayed between her breasts, and he held her. Her tee rode up even more. He managed to get his jeans down over his hips and thighs, then he pressed himself against her.
“Last chance. Tell me no.”
The wolf mask leered at her, beautiful and aggressive, angry and sleek. It seemed oddly fitting and surreal to hear his voice snaking out of the muzzle.
She bumped her hips again, but it only managed to move him so he could feel her, the heat of her mound. He growled, and her scalp prickled. Even as it did, another rush of moisture slipped from between her thighs. Her pulse pounded in her clit. His fingers found her and slipped inside of her.
“So very juicy, aren’t you? Now how did that happen?”
Now…catch your breath a sec, and click those buy links! I just got my copy!
Professional dirty word writer, gluten free baker, sock addict, fat wiener dog walker, expert procrastinator. That sums it up.
Sommer Marsden has been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen),and “Erotica royalty…” (Lucy Felthouse). Her erotic novels include Restricted Release, Restless Spirit, Boys Next Door, and the Zombie Exterminator series. Sommer currently writes for Harper Collins Mischief, Ellora’s Cave, Xcite Books, Pretty Things Press, Excessica and Resplendence Publishing.