I don’t like being told I can’t do something. And I’m not speaking in the finger wagging “no means no” sense. I mean, I hate being doubted, even when that doubt is thinly veiled with well wishes and encouragement.

I’m a big girl and this isn’t my first rodeo. I didn’t ask for opinions or advices relocating my family, yet snuck in opinions and unsolicited advice is what I got and continue to get even weeks after the decision was made. We’ve moved already for fuck’s sake and that’s all there is to it. And it makes it hard for me to believe that you’re happy for me when you tell me that you’re having conversations that include the phrase “do you think they’re coming back?” I measure that up there with betting on the length of someone’s marriage while dancing at their reception. It’s rude and mostly, it’s not supportive.

What’s funny, though, is that I didn’t even ask for support, though it would have been nice. But I guess I’m saying all this to say that if you’re not supportive of someone’s decision no matter what it is, then don’t be. Don’t go to their wedding and by all means don’t send a gift. They’ll appreciate the honesty in the long run.


New Release: The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu

Death and Lust and Vampires!

The Master is a sex vampire. His aim: to dominate through the glories of the flesh. His minions are beautiful and lascivious and their eager bodies and warped minds are bent to his evil purpose. The lost Phallus of Osiris is the greatest erotic talisman known to man and the Master will not rest until he has it in his possession. Just one woman can help him fulfil his dark ambitions – the one person who still resists him. Mara, the white witch. Great though the Master’s power is – in Mara, and The Phallus of Osiris, he may have met his match.

Available from:

It was dark in the room. Dark and strangely airless. But Mara felt no fear. She stretched out her hand and touched her unseen lover’s hand. Although she could not see him, she knew he was standing by the side of the bed; that he was naked, and ready for her . . .

‘Come to me . . .’ breathed Mara. And her fingers moved from her lover’s hand to explore his body – running down his flank, his thigh; searching eagerly for the warm weight of his testicles; seeking out his most sensitive and intimate places to tease and excite his flesh; and bring him to her.

She heard his breathing: hoarse and quickening now. And seconds later, she felt him sit down on the bed beside her, felt the soft coverings yield to his weight as he lay down by her side and pressed his hot nakedness up against her willing flesh.

He was by her side now, stroking her with knowing fingers that seemed to read her mind, divine her every dream and wish. His fingers slid down her body, as though taking the measure of her, mapping out the fullest extent of the bounty offered to them. They fluttered like butterfly wings, up from the firm roundness of her hips to the taut flesh of her tiny waist, and then up still further; until at last they found the swelling amplitude of her magnificent breasts, caressing their firmness appreciatively.

He was kneeling beside her: leaning over her, the better to toy with her. Mara gasped with pleasure as invisible hands cupped her breasts and kneaded their warm and yielding flesh. Skilled fingers searched out the budding hardness of her nipples and pinched them between finger and thumb, just hard enough to provoke an irresistible blend of pain and pleasure.

‘Take me!’ gasped Mara, reaching up and touching the hands which were so knowingly exploring her body. They were strong hands, hands she felt she knew well; hands that were strong and sinewy and capable of great violence – and yet gentle enough to tease, torment, arouse.

Strong, sinewy wrists and forearms . . . She could reach no further; so she stretched out her hand to the side, and felt for the body of her unseen lover. Her hand made contact with his thigh, muscular and covered with thick, coarse hair. She slid her hand upwards, upwards, letting her fingers glide softly over the hairs; and she felt her lover tremble at the exquisite torment of her touch. Bolder now, she let her hand move higher still, and shivered with delight as her fingers brushed against her lover’s testicles.

They were heavy, vital, pulsating with a raw energy that communicated itself to her as she stroked their velvety pouch, weighing them in her palm. Then she let her fingers stray still further, and felt them slide deliriously along the smooth length of a hard and throbbing shaft that she knew yearned to bury itself in her.
And as she stroked it, she felt herself grow hotter and wetter, her juices welling up as though from some secret spring deep within her. It was as though she was melting from the inside outwards, as butter might melt in anticipation of the hot knife that would soon plough into its soft and willing depths . . .

The room was filled now with the fragrance of sex; the sweet, heady aroma of a cunt well greased, of a prick whose tip glistens with the first drops of semen, the first promise of the torrents to come. Mara slid her hand along her lover’s shaft and ran her fingertips gently over its tip: it was already slippery with love-juice and she shivered again with the delicious anticipation of its entry into her most intimate places.

Other Modern Erotic Classics available:

The Houdini Girl by Martyn Bedford
Lie to Me by Tamara Faith Berger
The Phallus of Osiris by Valentina Cilescu
Kiss of Death by Valentina Cilescu
The Flesh Constrained by Cleo Cordell
The Flesh Endures by Cleo Cordell
Hogg by Samuel R. Delany
The Tides of Lust by Samuel R. Delany
Sad Sister by Florence Dugas
The Ties That Bind by Vanessa Duriés
Dark Ride by Kent Harrington
3 by Julie Hilden
Neptune & Surf by Marilyn Jaye Lewis
Violent Silence by Paul Mayersberg
Homme Fatale by Paul Mayersberg
The Agency by David Meltzer
Burn by Michael Perkins
Dark Matter by Michael Perkins
Evil Companions by Michael Perkins
Beautiful Losers by Remittance Girl
Meeting the Master by Elissa Wald

Kiss Me

I’m delighted to be a part of Smutters’ Blisse Kiss Chase Valentine’s Day promotion. If you haven’t heard/seen the details, various authors will be posting Kiss Blog’s including kissing excerpts. Included in these posts will be our personalized Smoocher with a number and a clue and oh, mine’s below!

And since we’re on the subject of kissing… Call me a hopeless romantic, but the kiss is always my favorite part, in writing and in life. I’ve written the most erotic of stories that were based on, inspired by and built around a kiss. One of my first published stories, Dressing Desire, includes two female characters, one engaged, the other her seamstress, whose desire for each other climaxed (tee hee) in their kiss. The excerpt (drumroll, please):

“Would it be terrible if I kissed you?” She asked.
“You’re getting married, Ivy. Today is your wedding day.”
She placed a slender finger against my lips. “All that aside. Would it be terrible if I kissed you?”
Still silenced by her finger, I shook my head, unable to find my voice even if I was free to speak.
Her lips dropped onto mine. I closed my eyes as she parted my lips with her fingers and tongue. Her tongue tasted and moved like molasses, exploring my own tongue, my teeth, the roof and sides of my mouth.
I reached up and gently pulled at the soft, dark ringlets that escaped her veil and rested on her cheeks. My own hair touched her neck and draped over her shoulders. Our tangled hair lay upon us, a dark mane like blanket over our shoulders.
The dress surrounded us, a white satin pool around our knees. Her fingers searched my throat, massaged my shoulders, trailed my back as she gently sucked my tongue and rubbed her breasts against mine.
I held her waist, pressed gently at her sides with my thumbs. My fingers pulled at the band of her panties, her heat searing my fingers.
She reached for my hand and held it in her own guiding me away from her panties. She pressed two final ruby kisses onto my lips.
“I shouldn’t keep the driver waiting.”
I found my voice again. “Yes, the driver.”
I pulled the gown up, buttoned each button and straightened the bodice. “There. You’re all set.”

I hope you enjoyed it and please check into The Bliss Kiss Chase Blog for details on where to find your next clue!


Slippery When Wet – Guest Blog by Author Sommer Marsden

I have an addiction. To shower sex. Not me, really. I am a bit of a klutz so shower sex in real life might be pretty dangerous for yours truly. That’s not to say *cough* it’s never happened. It’s just given the state of our shower at home (the damn thing is crooked, I’m not kidding. You slide downhill if you’re not careful.) shower sex might be better left on paper.

But I do love to write my characters into some good slippery wet times. Especially my boys. There must be something about a slick, wet man that does it for me. Add another slick wet man to that scenario and I’m in heaven. Shower sex heaven.

Does this mean that there might be some shower sex in my new book Lion Hearted? Some moist hook ups in various no tell motel bathrooms? Um…hello. Were you paying attention? Of course!

I hope you’ll join my boys for their road trip to Divination Falls. I promise you that no matter how dirty they get, I’ll make sure to stick them in the shower to clean them up. Or ya know, something like that.

So how about you? Is shower sex better left on paper? Or are you game for something wet and wild? Leave me a comment for a chance to win an All Romance Ebooks $10 gift certificate. I’ll go through all the comments along the Lion Hearted blog tour and draw a winner when all is said and done!

Good luck.




Tryg Avondale is the muscle for his pride, and when he’s called upon to hunt down two missing teens, he sees the job for what it is – a chance to give his pride a break from him and his “nature”. Tryg is a gay lion and it’s not something his “family” seems to embrace.

He takes with him Luke Dorchester – an empath and the perfect travel companion. Luke can feel and soothe every emotion that coils deep inside Tryg, and the sex between them is the hottest Tryg has ever known. Tryg has no intention of letting his emotions go any further when it comes to this brand new man. But he also has zero intention of letting him go. What follows is a road trip from campground to campground, hot nights in hotel rooms and close encounters spent together as they follow the scent of the two abducted shifters. A scent that takes them to Divination Falls, a haven for shifters and associated magical folk; a place where an old evil will surface and Tryg will learn just how far his love for lion-hearted Luke must take him.

Amazon US buy link:

Amazon UK buy link:

Coming to all other vendors January 2013!

Lion Hearted

By Sommer Marsden

EXCERPT copyright 2012

It was a 30-minute trip and Tryg could feel Luke studying him. He sipped coffee out of the travel mug, wished he’d eaten breakfast, caught diner scents on the wind, and promised himself they’d eat breakfast before leaving for real. Finally, he couldn’t pretend not to notice any more.

‘What is it?’

Luke reached out to touch his cheek. He’d shaved before leaving the house, but he heard the rough stubble move restlessly under Luke’s touch.

‘I thought you’d have more hair.’

Tryg snorted. ‘Did you now? Why is that?’

‘You’re a lion.’

‘So you expected wild, waving puffs of hair? A mane, perhaps?’ He grinned so hard it hurt his face. It made him nervous, feeling happy.

‘Perhaps,’ Luke said. He turned away, and Tryg caught the scent of heightened blood. Luke was blushing, he was embarrassed.

Now he felt like a shit. Tryg caught his hand up and squeezed. ‘Hey, no big deal. You don’t know what you’re dealing with until you’re dealing with it, right? You probably hear a lot of rumours about my kind.’

‘Yeah, some.’ Luke’s fingers twisted around Tryg’s and he squeezed.

‘Like we live in animal form almost all the time.’



‘False. Usually, we only shift when we need to or really want to for some reason. We are very much men and women who happen to have the ability to shift to animal form.’

‘What animal is the most prevalent?’

Tryg felt Luke relax. His body went loose, his breathing evened out. He felt better; the kid wasn’t tense any more. He turned the Thunderbird with his left hand as he continued to squeeze Luke’s hand with the right. ‘No single animal wins that race. There are lions and tigers and bears …’ He smiled.

‘Oh my!’ Luke whispered.

‘Exactly. There are wolves, of course. There are bird shifters and reptile shifters and –’

‘I heard some shifters can just shift – into anything,’ Luke said.

‘True. Their DNA is more fluid, more forgiving than most of ours. Most of us have a single animal we can transform into. That animal is part of our DNA. It’s like looking like your mom but having your dad’s double joints. We’re human but we can shift into a lion. So – the ones who can just shift, they’re considered rare and special. Their DNA kind of takes orders, if you will.’

‘Like “hey, body, today I’ll be an alligator”?’ Luke chuckled.

‘Right.’ Tryg turned on to the lake road. ‘But me, I’m just a man. I tend to like my meat a bit more raw, I don’t really like wearing clothes if it’s not a must.’ He winked. Parking by the lake, he put the car in park and cut the engine. ‘I like to fuck my guy from behind more often than not.’

He smelled the blood in Luke’s cheek again. He was blushing once more. But this time it was a good blush, and it made Tryg laugh even as he climbed out of the car to try and catch the scent of the missing girl. For this he’d have to shift.

‘You gonna turn away?’ he asked, unbuttoning his jeans.

‘Do you want me to?’ Luke asked.

Tryg realised the offer was sincere and snorted. What planet had this guy come from? Most non-shifters he fucked were all about seeing it happen. It was a time to gawk and observe. So they could report back to their friends later about what it was like. A freak show.

‘I – hadn’t thought about it,’ Tryg said. It was a lie.

Luke reached in the back seat and shoved his hand into his duffle. When he pulled out a bandanna, Tryg blinked. ‘Here. You can blindfold me if you like. I don’t think you’re a freak. I don’t want to stare at you and see the sideshow. I just want to be here with you.’

Tryg swallowed hard. Something akin to anger washed over him. A knee-jerk reaction that this kid had him pegged so well. ‘It’s fine,’ he growled.

Luke didn’t touch him, but his voice went lower. ‘I mean it, Tryg. I can feel that frustrated rage and hurt inside you. I’d eat this bandanna before I’d make you feel that way because of something I did.’

Tryg turned away from the open car door. His eyes stung and his throat was tight. Goddamn it. This was not a good time to feel all Dr Phil. ‘It’s fine. Do what you want,’ he said. He tried to keep his voice neutral. He failed.

Then he dropped his jeans, shucked his shirt, and let himself shift the same way some people let themselves take a deep breath when they were about to undertake something difficult. The world muffled and he was all intention and purpose. His nose picked up a mélange of scents. He had to find the scent of his own kind and then follow it.

Sommer Marsden’s 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 Boys Next Door, Restless Spirit, Big Bad, Wanderlust and Learning to Drown. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for HarperCollins (Mischief Books), Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora’s Cave, Pretty Things Press, and Resplendence Publishing. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer’s short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines–both in print and online. Visit to see what’s up and drop her a line.

Old Dog, New Blog

At the end of this week, I’ll be thirty-five.

I’ve been blogging since 2003, around the same time I was first published as an author of erotic fiction.  There you are; you do the math.  My original blog is/was here, but due to formatting issues/frustrations, and the fact that I’m just too damn old, tired and fed up to deal with it, I’ve decided to change things up a bit.  So, here I am!