i found this fascinating because i'm a total foetus...

And the man is a log...soldier...the man is a soldier log! What are you? Tell me!

xoxo

S

another moldy oldie from my...

Moldy oldie brain. Trapped in the past and working on what feels like a stellar book. Of course it's an alternate pen name so I don't even get to crow. But the work is the work is the work. So, there you have it. But I figured I'd share a little snippet of my internal soundtrack and a little piece of my past history and some of the music that shaped me ("into the crazy spaz I am" shall go unspoken...hehe).

XOXO
Sommer

shock value

Seriously. What the fuck? I just went to BJ's (the bulk store, thanks so much, hold your blow job jokes for later, people ;) ) and the entire time I was in there my cart was shocking me. No shit. bzzt! bzzt! bzzt! All through my shopping trip. Little jolts of pain every time I wrapped my hand around the handle of my cart. It got so bad at one point that I stopped, bent over and examined my cart. I was certain I was on one of those reality shows like Candid Camera and some fuck was in the back room with a button giving me measured jolts of electricity every time I gripped to steer.

Finally, I had to hold my cart in this uber weird she is a crazy woman way to steer. I held the little plastic coated box you have to slide a quarter in to even get your cart and the top coated part of the handle. I looked...stupid. But it was better than muttering, "Jesus Christ! Son of a bitch! Ow! Rat bastard!" ever step or so.

I mean, I've heard of shock therapy to avoid certain behaviors, but I wasn't buying that much stuff!

XOXO
Sommer
fabulous belt buckle found here

The fruit of her erotic mind!

Dirtyville's own Heidi Champa had a sit down with Dr. Dick. I know it sounds dirty, but it isn't! I promise! Um...much? Just go and decide for yourself!

XOXO

Sommer

Part of the soundtrack in my head today...

for my current project. And waxing poetic and yearning just a bit for my coming of age days. When this album was...well, on fire, to be blunt. Ah...my yoot (said in my best Joe Pesci voice). That's right. Yoot.

XOXO
Sommer

An excellent read...

Blank received a super nice review at Rude Words. Yay! Here is a nibble. To read the rest go here.

"Marsden writes a compelling story that touches on the vulnerability of Brokeback Mountain. Interspersed between bouts of hot sex, Kyle’s struggle to become whole is very apparent. As a character, Kyle is interesting, complicated and very human; the love interest, Tad is also complicated and diverse and the reader is left hoping they find each other. An excellent read."

Wow, so, so nice ;)


XOXO

Sommer

Extract of Sommer...

I love a good lemon or orange or almond extract myself. But I do adore how in the UK it's extract and not excerpt. So if you want to download a free extract of me aka my new novel Calendar Girl, just go here.

Cheers!

XOXO
Sommer

A year of fun, frolicking and hot sex. No strings, no expectations and did he mention hot sex?...

Oh, and drag queens, a recently out of the closet brother, some intense jobs with hoarders and a mother who's going off the deep end. Just a regular calendar year for Merritt Evans.

Oh. My. God! I am so excited that my full length novel CALENDAR GIRL is up today! I didn't even know until I got a notice from ARe. Ha!

Here is the blurb:

Merritt Evans is expecting a lot out of her marriage but what she is not expecting is to come home to find her husband Drake diddling with the local trainer. Thanks to friends in high places, Merritt's divorced by the new year. She’s ready to put her old life behind her and her best friend Jeffrey--drag queen and fake psychic extraordinaire--comes up with a game plan. A year of fun, frolicking and hot sex. No strings, no expectations and did he mention hot sex? A fresh guy every single month to get all the needs and kinks and cravings out of her system so she can move on. Merritt’s doing well with her plan until Penn Fratila shows up. Hot, Romanian and sexy as hell. Oh yeah, and he wants her. Bad.

For an excerpt go here or here.

I have to say, this book is in my top five. I adored Merritt and Penn and the gang. But Jeffrey...I have never written a character quite like Jeffrey and I doubt I ever will again. Ever.

XOXO
Sommer

My Dirty Monday: Belladonna's Tie Me, Spank Me, & Fuck Me Kit

Okay, so I should have paid a bit more attention to the kit. But when I read Tie Me, Spank Me, & Fuck Me Kit--I admit it!--I got all excited. So I missed the fact that the kit had a rubber ball gag and I, my lovelies, am allergic to rubber. So, my review will not include the cute but deadly rubber ball gag. I will tell you the leather that holds the death ball is very nice and pale pink and smooth. The man says it's a stellar ball gag. I'll take his word for it. I love you, dear readers, but not enough to skip to my demise via rubber sex toy.

So, now on to the cuffs. Mmm. The cuffs. Same pink, smooth, soft, nice leather. Very nice for a kit, actually. And the buckles are good heavy buckles that give that merry but sinister jingle I adore when they're being fastened. Like they're saying, Oh, won't this be fun! when you're not begging to be let out...I think they are actually my favorite joined cuffs at this point in time.

Now let's talk about this G-spot vibe. Honestly, can I be Frank? or even Joe? I would buy this kit just for the vibe. Gorgeous, girly, hot pink plastic egg shaped G-spot vibe, bath and shower friendly--and I do mean friendly. It was my friend in the shower just the other day. There is something perfect about this vibe. The size, the shape and the angle. I would imagine a large amount of women would like to snuggle up with this particular G-spot vibe. A lot of G-spot vibes are too angled, too big, or even too small. To quote Goldilocks, this one is just right. She meant porridge and I'm talking sex toys but we won't split hairs.

So to sum up, ten thumbs up (I had to borrow four friends to accomplish that) for Belladonna's Tie Me, Spank Me, & Fuck Me Kit. Do be warned fellow latex/rubber allergy sufferers, there is a ball gag and it is rubber. Beyond that,for your money, I found the vibe stellar, the leather very nice, the buckles sturdy and shiny and merry and the ball--well, it was a fabulous ball. From what I could see from across the room while the man inspected it. I believe his words were "Damn. I'd love to try this on you if it wouldn't...you know...kill you."

I'm sure there are days he'd like to use it on me anyway. But that's where the spank me part comes in. A tale (or tail) for another day.

XOXO
Sommer
* Sex toys provided by SexToy.com home of the biggest selection of vibrators online

Werewolf smut...

A story that originally appeared at Ruthie's Club a million years ago is not an SGP release. Old Wives' Tale involves my favorite sexy supernatural...the lycan. Available at (inhale): Kindle, All Romance Ebooks, Bookstrand, 1 Romance Ebooks, Spastic Girl Press, 1 Erotica Ebooks , Smashwords and Omnilit (exhaaaaaaaaaale). Tada!

XOXO

Sommer

My writer's version of penis envy...

Is twitching with outrage. I wish I wrote this book: Sharp Objects. I wish I wrote anything in the vicinity/sphere/vortex/kingdomphylumclassorderfamilygenusspecies (hunh, look at that still remember that from 8th grade) of this book. Read it. That's all I'm going to say. I have to go tend to my outraged phantom writing penis now...

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. Huge thanks to Scarlett for recommending the book.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Sensitive is out. And no. I am not tired of looking at him yet! (O_O)

Go here for more on my brand new shiny paranormal from Ellora's Cave! And here is my sexy blurby snippety thing:

What happens when a gorgeous angel is dropped in your lap? If you’re psychic-sensitive Harper Brown, first you assume the guy’s nuts, then you realize he’s not, but you’re too busy trying to undo his belt buckle and feel his pecs to care.

When Alex Church shows up to watch over her—supposedly from heaven—Harper’s flattered. And a bit unnerved. Oh, and super turned on. With the cemetery across the street revving her psychic engine, Harper’s practically vibrating from both psychic and sexual energy.

She should be focusing on aiding needy spirits, but with ready-and-willing Alex by her side, Harper’s a bit distracted trying to discover just how sinful her very own heavenly creature can be.

XOXO
Sommer

Guest blogging...

About Sommer's Brain-Dead Book Club at excessica today. Share all your titles with me, if you please.

XOXO

Sommer

i own it. it's good and dirty...

So let's keep the spike going if possible. Don't know what I'm talking about? Even after I show you this from Alison Tyler--->

[So I asked you all to help me get the word out about Lipstick on Her Collar. And I didn't have any preconceived notion about what would happen. I swear. But I noted that when I put up the original post, Lipstick was ranking on Amazon at 622,324. A day later, it had fallen to 700,00 + and I thought, Oh, my god. I made things worse!

But then — well, whammo! I checked last night and the numbers were brilliant, as you can see. It started ranking in the Gay & Lesbian categories and it jumped over 500,000 spots. First off, I have to say, Thank you. Every so often, you all make me feel very "Message in a Bottle." I put out a little call and you respond. And honestly, I get kind of teary. Second, a reader sent me a whole slew of places that might review the book, which would be awesome. When Lipstick first came out, the collection uniformly received positive reviews and reader's choice awards, so I know it's a good book!]

Then go here for the full scoop and go buy the book. I own it. It's good and dirty.

XOXO
Sommer

Cool, Daddio...

We...are...on...

All Romance Ebooks! Yay! Dirtyville and Kinkyville are now on aRe. Why am I so excited? I am so, so, so fucking excited because I kept hosing it up and there were very specifical things and I had to figure it out and there was some weeping and tearing at the hair and some very bad words but...I figured it out and tada! We are now up on aRe. Woohooo!

It is trying being a one woman show some days. My little 'company' consists of me, myself and I. And my handy sexy secretary Oyv. Heh.

I did it. Woop!

XOXO

Sommer

My kind of contest...

What is better than smut? A smut marathon hosted by Alison Tyler. Oh baby. I'm going to start training immediately. What do you mean I can't play? Okay, but I will be involved. Will you play?

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. I'll still stretch for it. Need to limber up for all the smutting.

and holy crap batman!

Dirtyville is #16 on the Gay&Lesbian antho list and number 79 in Gay Erotica. Fierce. Fab. Fan-fucking-tastic. :)

XOXO
Sommer

how appropriate...

At this moment in time, Kinkyville is #69 in the Gay&Lesbian anthology section in Amazon (I typed sextion. Oops). I couldn't pass up the chance to crow about it. We were 57 earlier, but shoot me, I like 69 better. Heh.

XOXO
Sommer

i surrender...

This day has bitten me on the ass since the word go. I used to be a no retreat, no surrender kind of girl. I'm getting old. I'm learning there are some things I can't control: children, other people, weather and electronics. So I do my best.

Despite one interesting surprise after another today (note I said interesting and not good) I've still managed to do a few thousand words on a new book. And there may be some nookie in it for me--a pity fuck, surely--since I've been a frazzled spaz most of the day. Yay me! Looking forward to wine time. V. v. v. v. much!

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. click the image to buy this stunning print. There's more than one in this series and they are too pretty to describe.

Is it hot in here or is it just me?

What? Was there a question? Jesus Pleezus, this is the cover for my book Sensitive that comes out next Friday. Thank you, Syneca who listened to my insane input and rambling about hot men and simplicity and whatnot and presto change-o gave me...Tada! This!

Whew and also, pass me the fan. Here is the blurb. Did I make sense? Did I type in English? Gosh, I hope so. I'm a bit distracted...

Sensitive
Sommer Marsden

What happens when a gorgeous angel is dropped in your lap? If you’re psychic-sensitive Harper Brown, first you assume the guy’s nuts, then you realize he’s not, but you’re too busy trying to undo his belt buckle and feel his pecs to care.

When Alex Church shows up to watch over her—supposedly from heaven—Harper’s flattered. And a bit unnerved. Oh, and super turned on. With the cemetery across the street revving her psychic engine, Harper’s practically vibrating from both psychic and sexual energy.

She should be focusing on aiding needy spirits, but with ready-and-willing Alex by her side, Harper’s a bit distracted trying to discover just how sinful her very own heavenly creature can be.

"We Have A Live One In Sector 2" or "Ode To Sharon"

Okay, so I didn't even follow the directions for my date with the magic dildo today (see below if you dare). I know my body and my teeny tiny bladder and drank my water on the way to the appointment. So by the time I signed in, I was fine. Once I sat down, a bit not fine. By the time they called my name, I was really not fine. But see, they called my name to ask me a question. Not to put me out of my misery [fuckers! ah! I hate you let me pee, please I'll do anything you want you evil, evil people!]. So they made me sit back down and told me, "They are running a bit behind."

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

So I tried to look at the People Magazines and not stress. But I couldn't focus. All I could see was big hair and big teeth and big tits and I was having a really hard time deciphering who all these things actually belonged to. Not since I was pregnant with boy child and had to go for a sonogram had I been this uncomfortable.

I can still remember weeping copiously and saying to the tech, "Please...please! I have the ocean in my bladder and there is a big baby stepping on it!" So she let me pee and said, "But here you have to drink...well, oh! would you look at that! It's full again!"

Yeah, see, I knew it was full.

Finally, 20 mins past my appt time I snapped. I got up. I was going to fake a phone call to my kids' school. Just let me step out into the hall due to your no cell phone rule (where the public rest room is conveniently located for my I'm about to wet myself use) and I'll be right back. Damn if that receptionist didn't know what I was up to. "Oh, hold on! They're coming for you. You go ahead and make that call right there. We'll wave you back."

She meant right there where I can see you , sister. Which translates to [*hiss* *crackle* We have a live one in sector two, folks. Live one in sector two! Don't let her out! *hiss* *pop*]

Fuck!

So, I faked. Yes!--I faked it!--a phone call and when the woman came to get me I was damn near weeping. Sharon. Sharon took my picture externally, promising that as soon as she got them out of the way I could pee. She kept asking me questions. Questions I could not answer because all I could think about was my mammoth straining bladder and not peeing all over Sharon and her table and her floor. When she said, "Okay, you can wipe that goop off and empty your bladder," I was babbling.

Literally. I think I said, "I love you Sharon. You are my best friend. I want you to have my babies." And if you think I'm lying then call Sharon and ask her. I am not lying.

Has anything ever felt as good as that momentous bladder emptying? NO! Never! Nothing has ever ever felt that good. Ever! Money is not as good as that trip to the bathroom was.

So then we did the whole, insert this, scoot to the bottom (but I thought she said scoot IT to the bottom so I kept trying to insert the 'wand' in further as if was the bottomless woman whose depths could never truly be plumbed) and yar, yar, yar.

So it is over. And Sharon is now sitting on her break talking about the insane woman who kept answering questions like this: "Cancer? What? Yes, um no! I think so! I don't know. I have to pee so bad, Sharon!"

Poor Sharon.

XOXO
Sommer

"A Date With A Magic Dildo" or "This Is So Not Sexy"

I have a date with a magic dildo tomorrow. No really. It is a dildo-ish item that takes pictures. Due to mucho stomach pain both high and low I had some icky days a few weeks ago. Okay, not days. Over a week. And I ate very little food and drank NO WINE (this alone is a reason to call the National Guard to be on standby) and they have figured absolutely zero out. So now we are ruling out ovarian cysts and or a 'slow burn appendicitis'. That means you do not go into a appendicitis like a normal person. You go into it gradually over time drawing out the trauma, agony and worry. Because I can never ever do anything normal don't ya know.

But first! I must go have a date with the magic dildo to rule out an ovarian cyst.

I dated the good old M.D. once before. When pregnant with boy child. They wanted to rule out a tubal pregnancy. So I went and they hooked me up and said: Nope everything is where is supposed to be. Congratulations and buckle your seat belt because you are going to be a mother.

Thanks to that previous date, I now know how it will go.

"Are you allergic to latex?" They will ask as I am festively sprawled on the horrible (super short, might I add, as a tall person) table.

"Yes."

"Really? What happens to you if you come in contact with latex?"

"I die." Okay! Not really! I itch and hive and my tongue feels funny so let's not go there. Death is so not sexy.

So, they will then tie a vinyl exam glove over the magic dildo to protect it from my girl parts. Because what is better than a date with a magic, picture taking dildo? A magic picture taking dildo giving you the old vinyl finger while it does its job.

Ugh.

Anyway, wish me luck. I also have the worlds smallest bladder and they told me "Drink 24 oz of water an hour before and do not empty your bladder."

Yeah. Right. If you buy that I have a magic dildo you might be interested in.

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. if this is clear I get to find out about that 'slow burn appendicitis'. I'm envisioning a hyperopic doctor and a rusty spoon for some reason (O_O)

It's Chicken Caccitore Day!

Repost from the Dirtyville Collection blog~

Know what that means? Guests for dinner? Well, yes, but it also means three copies each of Dirtyville and Kinkyville as a giveaway. How are the two related? I have no earthly idea. It just seemed a good idea while I sit here swigging coffee.

What's the catch? The requesters have to a) email me at hot4sommer at yahoo dot com and tell me which they would like ( or both) b) be willing to review us on Amazon if they like the book and c) be able to accept or read pdf or html format.

That's it! Tada! So spread the word. I'll give out three of each volume, first come, first serve.

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. Yes, I amuse myself, underpants with Tada on them make me laugh every time.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: And they're all gone. That fast! Ole! Stay tuned, we'll give more away soon. :)

Mmm...

I could stare at that cover all day. Here's where you can get Cuffed right now. More to come. If anyone can find the key to let us out. Hello? Anyone? Anyone...

"...suddenly realizing that adrenaline was flooding my body. My heart was pounding; my mouth was dry. I was there with her."

Yay! Lisabet Sarai has given my little wolf book Base Nature a lovely review on her sexy blog. Go see here.

And look for me next month when I guest blog. So...uh...just asking, anyone have any input, requests, suggestions, questions for me to blog about? Anyone? Bueller. Bueller...?

XOXO
Sommer

"Have you ever tried to haul yourself up? The only thing you think can hold you ain't strong enough..."

This song is pretty much the theme song to my life at the moment. Thank god Davy Knowles is singing it. Ever seen someone who is so fucking talented that when you watch them you sort of feel like you've swallowed a light bulb. Yeah? That's how I feel when I listen to/see Davy Knowles and Back Door Slam.

XOXO
Sommer

back in a few days...

Get down and funky with your bad selves while I'm gone.

XOXO
Sommer

p.s. photo credit to me. those are some of the glow sticks I keep in the house for thunder storms. pic is from oh...a billion years ago.

"If you adjust your attitude...

I might fuck you."

Hmm. I went on a rampage yesterday. I got up and had coffee, a handsome man cooked me breakfast. Then I went insane.

You think I jest? I assure you, I do not.

Our kitchen has been torn up for a while as we slowly but surely move toward re-muding the cracked and crazed mess that was our kitchen walls under our ugly ass wallpaper. Think 50's diner dipped in shit on crack. That is what we had. So, anyway, baskets and buckets of dishes are in my dining room (for weeks now), the butcher's block is in the entryway to the side kitchen door, the kitchen itself is an horrid, tragic disaster. And this past week we had high temps, uber high pollen counts (like most of the east coast) and everything in my home was yellow.

So, I started yelling. "Clean this, clean that, you move this, you move that." And to him: "I swear to fuck if you go ripping the wallpaper out of another room before we are ready to fucking redo it RIGHT THAT SECOND I will be a widow!"

And I did not take a breath. I ran around with my bucket of water and soap, cleaning all the horrible pollen out of my home. I ordered children about like a drill sargeant and I ran crazily through my home in my pajamas, hair flying, with my Dyson sucking up anything that stood still long enough to be vacuumed. I was a raging bitch and then, "If you adjust your attitude, I might fuck you." Right in my ear.

"Wha?" said the crazy woman.

"You can't go around screaming at everyone like that."

And then it dawned on me. I was horny. I hadn't been loved on in a few days. I have this weird quirk now. The older I get, when I get horny (and don't realize it) I get mean. Angry mean. She-devil mean. Watch out, hide the weapons mean. Rattle snake mean.

"I'm horny," I whispered, clearly shocked at this realization.

"Yep. I know that. Now if you'll adjust your attitude, we can do something about it."

"Yes, sir," I said, only half tongue-in-cheek.

He nodded. "See, now that's more like it."

FYI: if my afternoon was what awaited me every time I cleaned the house like a mad woman...well, honey, I'd own a cleaning business.

XOXO
Sommer the not so angry any more...

shop the sommer shop

I've had so many people say "You should put that on a shirt". Esp with my mantra from my first published story NEVER BUY YOUR OWN HYPE. And then there's Om! Ole! Tada and the dirt rubbing saying. And while I was in there, I did some Dirtyville stuff.

Pretty neato. Nice to see Bacchus and the blog addy on that stuff. It's all at Sommer Stuff.

Go see my shop. I love it!

XOXO
Sommer

Because you should be loved for who you are, not a label...

Old-fashioned...

Sure, sure. I could have made them thigh highs. But hey, I've had more than one guy wax poetic to me about their love of the old-fashioned, up to the waist, saw Marilyn in them once fishnets. So I went with that. I like to give the boys what they like. (*cough* *Haven!*).

Mac grinned and his hand came down on my leg as the waitress appeared. He caught my ankle up in his big hand as he placed his order—a Reuben, and I placed mine—said roast beef sandwich. His thumb ran over my ankle bone and his fingers danced gently against my barely covered skin. I was wet already.

"What's that?” he asked, leaning in to whisper to me despite the diner's din.

“What's what?”

He reared back, peeked under the table at the ankle he was still holding loosely in fleshy manacle of his strong fingers. “Fishnets?”

There I was blushing again. “Oh, yeah. Those.” I laughed, covering my mouth because for no apparent reason, I was full of nervous energy. “Annie gave me those. She said I had to have them. To wear with the Mary Janes.” I wiggled my foot so that his fingers rubbed my ankle again. Hopefully, no other diners would think it odd that my not-yet-husband was holding my ankle under the table. But no one seemed to be giving us a second glance.

Mac leaned in and when he did, the toe of my shoe nudged something decidedly hard. Was he...? Noooo. I rubbed my toe against it again and a flash or arousal crossed his handsome ruddy face. He was hard!

“Do they go all the way up?” he breathed. It wasn't a question. It was a urgent whispering plea and my nipples spiked for no apparent reason.

My brain scrambled and I tried to pull my foot back. He didn't let me. “What? Do what go all the way up? The fishnets?”

He nodded. His lips looked ready to kiss, his eyes glazed just a touch, his thumb was working aggressive firm circles on my skin. I'd never seen him look so...greedy.
“Yes. Do they?” He finally let my ankle go and sat back just as our waitress put our plates down.

“Everything okay?” she asked. We were regulars and even Kim picked up the odd shift in Mac's attention. “Mr. MacKenzie, is there a problem?”

I laughed at a pitch only rabid hyenas usually managed and Mac flushed a vibrant shade of baked brick. “Fine, everything is fine. Can't wait!” he said, picking up his sandwich like a man in a TV commercial for food. Mmm. Look how good my sandwich is!

What the hell? And it all seemed to stem from my stockings.

The moment she was gone, he leaned back in like a conspirator discussing a secret. “Well?” he demanded.

“Ken MacKenzie, what the hell has gotten into you?”

My humble homage to the allure of classic fishnets can be found in Stocking Up. And now all this talking about them has made me want to dig mine out. How much you wanna bet I get lucky today?

XOXO

Sommer

I said it on the Dirtyville site but...

Can't resist saying it here. Because if you see, it says I live in Dirtyville and vacation in Kinkyville. Goodness, how did they know I need a vacation? Plus I love the way my name looks over my blushing Bacchus. Gosh, that sounded dirty, didn't it? Oops...

Here's the live link to the interview and the blurb. Tell your mom! Tell your friends! Tell the mail man! Hell, tell someone! ;)

Good job, y'all.

XOXO
Sommer

oh, baby, is that a blog in your pocket or are you just happy to see me...

I'm torn. I'm hoping it's a blog and I'm also hoping it's a...never mind.

Just popping in (or up) to say that all your Dirtyville/Kinkyville info is now available in one festive, convenient stop!

The Dirtyville Collection blog is live and all purchase links, author links, covers and info are over there.

Stay tuned for an updates, reviews and the like over in our little corner of town. Where we do secret, naughty things. Heh. ;)

XOXO
Sommer

guest blogging...

at Excessica today. Waxing poetic over the much coveted, highly allusive vacation...

XOXO

Sommer

coming soon...

God, with that cover, one should think! Whew. Coming soon, indeed.

XOXO

Sommer

a golden oldie...

My Ending just received a 4.5 star review at Manic Readers. I love getting reviews over work I've nearly forgotten. I really love getting super great reviews for it...

"This isn’t just a quick erotic read—it is so much more. There is heartache, sadness, happiness, and most of all love. This was one of those stories that I loved absolutely and hated to see end, although once you read it, you know without the ending it just wouldn’t be the same. Ms. Marsden did a wonderful job weaving this story together and making the relationship between Michelle and Daniel breathtaking, sorrowful, yet amazing. If you are looking for that then I would most definitely recommend My Ending! "

Thanks to Claudia at MR for taking the time to review me.

XOXO

Sommer

we're up...

On 1 Erotica Ebooks now. So thus far you can find Dirtyville and Kinkyville on 1EroticaEbooks, 1RomanceEbooks and Smashwords. Coming soon to a Kindle near you...just when thought it was safe to...urm...read? Whatever! Yay.

XOXO

Sommer

Live and uncensored...

Despite a rousing game of 'beat the computer' today with a machine that insisted on repeatedly crash dumping, I got all edits done and uploaded Dirtyville and Kinkyville to 1RomanceEbooks, Smashwords and Kindle! Tomorrow I'll be adding to 1EroticaEbooks.

1RE and Smashwords are live, live, live and Kindle should be coming very soon.

Thanks to all the writers who took a chance on me and for sending me some truly dirty, spectacular, sinful stories. Ole!

And the bigger they are, the harder they fall. I'm pretty far from earth all the way up here, so I think I'm taking a mental health day tomorrow. I have a set of steps I want to run to punish myself after a whole 10 days of nada due to being under the weather. I have a novel I want to go all medieval on and...I might read a book. *Gasp* (O_O)

XOXO
Sommer

like a game of marbles...

Rearranging, moving, futzing, tweaking, moving again. But I think I have it set. Final lineups for Dirtyville and Kinkyville below. Who said I was losing my marbles? I heard that! X-D (photo by me)

Dirtyville:

The Dentist's Wife by Scarlett Greyson
Bulldozers and Communion by P.S. Haven
Grip by City Different
Population 32 by Alison Tyler
Only On Sundays by Emma Hillman
Red Light, Green Light by Cora Zane
Bosier Green by Angela Caperton
The Water-Cooler Routine by Jeremy Edwards
Not Of This Place by Willsin Rowe
The Good Wife by T. Harrison
The Sweetshop Owner's Daughter by Vida Bailey
Today's Special by Heidi Champa
The Girl Next Door by Sommer Marsden

Kinkyville:

Crazed by Charlotte Stein
Weather Man by Shanna Germain
Daddy's Bad Girl by Parker Ford
Let Them Eat Crow by Alison Tyler
You Suck by Benjamin Eliot
Desert by Lux Zakari
Punishment Befitting The Crime by D.L. King
Barber's Pole by J.D. Waters
Saturday Night by Angell Brooks
The Goth Girl by Rita Winchester
Strawberry Social by Scarlett Greyson
Little Loan by May Deva
Music Lessons by Sommer Marsden

If your link is missing, either you don't have a link or you didn't send it. Please send them to me if I missed any and thanks for playing, gang!

XOXO
Sommer

ducking my head in to say...

Yay. April 23rd is when my next book is due from Ellora's Cave. So fast! Speedy super awesome fast.

I admit, now I am all girly and anticipatory to see my cover.

Thank you to those of you who have sent me emails, hugs and love. I adore you, you know. Yes, you. :) I'll be back soon.

XOXO
Sommer

taking a few days

to go whichever way the wind blows me. Hope you'll poke around my blog until I return.

XOXO
Sommer

secret little trinkets...

I'm having one of those days. The days where I feel sort of boggled by my idea to be a writer as a profession. I just wrapped up (about a week ago) a project I loved. Felt really good about. And then bam! I am convinced it is total shite. And that the thing I'm laboring over nowis also, and the thing I finished before that. And then the one before that, as well.

I like being blindsided by lots of stuff. Holes in my pants (see below), money, sex--an awesome review. A nice bite mark that leaves a pristine ghostly bruise the next day or a perfectly placed swat on the ass that gives just the perfect amount reddish, purply imprint for days to come to remind me he was there. I like to get emails out of the blue and comments from readers. I'm all for a nice healthy blindside.

But I hate to be blindsided by worry, self-doubt and feelings that I am somehow a fake writer. Bottom line is, I don't know where they come from or why. I have no idea. No one (barring myself) has ever told me I am any of those things. Ever. Quite the opposite. And yet, here I sit today feeling like an impostor.

Instead of going on and on about my poor self image at the moment, I will share with you (hey, you owe me some thanks, you know) two of my favorite secret little trinkets. Two blogs I forget to hit as much as I would like but when I do, I am humbled by the writing and wonder why they ever escape my mind. But I think it's because they are such a low-key kind of good. The blogs exist for the writers not me, the reader. And that can be magic.

Here you go. You can thank me later. Visit City Different and Sadistic Excess when you can. I'm going to go out and sit by the girl in my garden (see photo) and write. For myself.

XOXO
Sommer

unlucky pants

We have been through a laundry cycle and I was wearing my sheer-pussy-shot-black leggings again today. With a black thong under them, thank you very much! We had eaten outside after grilling and I opened the door to take in the dirty dishes when I felt a finger on my ass. Only there shouldn't be a finger on my ass because I had pants on. It was just us, the kids are out tonight.

"There is a hole in your pants," said the man.

What? A hole in the same pants that spotlit my hooha for all the world to see? "No there isn't," I said. (dumbly)

"Do you feel my finger?"

"Yes."

"That's because there's a hole in your pants."

"Goddammit!" said I.

"Babe, these are the most unlucky pants you own."

See, but then he took me upstairs. And not: and he took me upstairs and it was nice, the end. No. He took me upstairs. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the way upstairs to the uppiest part of upstairs and then he dropped me wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! all the way to the bottom, completely spent and feeling stupidly pleased and limp and even mildly dimwitted with gratitude. So here I find myself very, very, very happy thanks to my unlucky pants. Or perhaps...

...my lucky pants?

XOXO
Sommer
p.s. I am considering simply cutting the ass end out and the next time he sees me in them they will be my (un)lucky chaps. Curious to see what would happen then...heh.

pu$$y shot

Okay, so I have these Danskin Capri Pant I run around in all the time. Yes, yes--often commando--sorry if it's TMI. It's no secret, really. I think it's on my blog somewhere and on Alison Tyler's blog, too. The running joke is that I only wear panties faithfully to places I might have to take them off. The doctor's, the Gyn, sometimes the bedroom (where the response is always: that's nice. take them off).

What can I say, I'm a free spirit. A wild child. I don't like to be all bound up unless there's an orgasm at the end of the story.

So yesterday I was talking to the man, very intense conversations about these two anthos and how organized you have to be and whatnot and I dropped my pen. I bent to get it, still talking and when he should have responded I was met with dead silence. "What?"

He pointed to me. "You know when you bend over those become totally sheer and I just got a pussy shot."

Oh. My. God.

"You are joking," I said, willing--yes, willing!--him to be fucking with me.

"I am so totally not joking on any level."

So I ran upstairs and dropped my pen in front of my full length mirror, bent, looked between my own legs at...my very sheer leggings and my very visible business.

Somehow I went from there to the bed with the man on top of me. And it turns out that it's bad to flash your hooha all over town and you need to be taught a lesson and there are a few marks in it for you trouble and oh yeah, that giant orgasm at the end and...well, how many folks have seen my hootle is still a mystery. But I had fun paying for my unintentional crime.

XOXO

Sommer