Today I have the sweet delight to host the third day of Sommer Marsden's "Angry Sex" blog tour. Many of you who find this here blog today already know the awesomeness of AweSommer. For anyone who's not yet discovered her, I say get thee to a smuttery! You won't be sorry. And now over to the lady of the hour...
SM: So…I’m here today to wax poetic about Willsin’s covers. I’d always loved the work he put out before, but what sealed the deal for me and made me a hardcore Willsin Rowe groupie was the cover for Gritty. Haven’t seen it? Feast your eyes on this!
Once that cover stole my breath and tickled my heart strings, Mr. Rowe became my go-to choice for covers whenever I needed them. It so perfectly jibed with what was inside my book (including his own work, tada!) I knew I had someone special.
Obviously, when I needed a cover for a book titled ANGRY SEX that was full of hot, steamy, rough, intense...well, sex, but ALSO full of emotion, turmoil, hope, laughter and tears…it was a no brainer. I had to ask Willsin.
WR: And it’s always a pleasure! Because Sommer’s writing “gets” me, easily as much as I “get” it. To be given the opportunities I’ve had to create something with a writer whose work you love and whose drive and talent you respect so highly...that’s a cover artist’s dream.
SM: For a writer, it’s 125% important that your cover artist ‘get’ your idea. The cover gelling with the book itself is not really necessary (we’ve all read books where the cover does not really match what’s inside once you crack that spine and start reading) but it is brilliant when it happens. And to writers like me, given my druthers, my cover is going to be a glimpse of what you will find in the book. A visual synopsis, if you will.
My hot little fingers fired off an email to Willsin that (probably) went something like this:
I need a smoking hot cover for a book called Angry Sex in the next ten minutes (heh) can you fit me in?
(I tend to work on projects out of the blue and I usually work fast so sometimes I don’t give Willsin what one would consider a…sane amount of time to work on stuff.)
WR: That’s pretty much how it went, in a nutshell. There’s an immediacy to the way Sommer works that is immensely exciting. And that immediacy comes through in her writing as well. Every Marsden I’ve ever read flows so smoothly that a feller just can’t stop reading. It’s as if it’s just rolled out of her like a post-orgasmic breath.
SM: Of course he helped a writer out and sent me one of his infamous spitball emails. That’s what I call them in my head, anyway. He sends me an email with a rough idea he’s sort of slapped together on his instinct and says ‘see what you think’. Very often THIS is what I think (this is an actual snippet from the Angry Sex cover email):
Gah! It is pretty much perfect. Do not remove or change anything. Just wave your wand and add all the text!! I love it. I love even seeing parts of their faces but it's not definitive…
Then he added the text and I had another gah moment. The text was perfect! It was brilliant! Somehow he’d managed to capture rage and heat and all that jazz in…text? I mean how does someone do that? To text! Turns out, Willsin had a secret for that, something I’ll let Willsin explain.
WR: And that gah moment is another cover artist dream. With Sommer I have the advantage of having read a bunch of her work, and we’ve talked each other’s eyes off (over email) as well. That makes it a whole lot easier to achieve an instant gah moment! And the text thing? Well, I’ll make a new post about that in the next couple of days. I’m busy digging into that hawt excerpt down there at the moment. It might take me a while before I can sit comfortably at my desk again...
SM: Bottom line, a cover that clicks with your book, a cover artist who ‘gets’ you and your writing…super important! If you find one, hold onto him. Wrap him in silk and feed him grapes and tie him in…*ahem*. Just be super nice, m’kay?
Luna Watkins can’t remember feeling so stressed. Her teenage son Nick’s health issues are reemerging and her ex Ben wants to help but is just making ends meet with odd jobs. Her catering business is thriving but too hectic for her to handle, at least that’s what it feels like. Not to mention since she’s been divorced, she hasn’t dated much and has had sex even less. When Nick decides to visit his grandparents for the summer, Luna is devastated. And yet, she sees a chance to work through her anger and her angst. Maybe some time to feed her body, mind and soul knowing he’s well taken care of.
Enter Adam Singleton, her new, last minute server. Handsome, gruff Adam who’s working through his own anger. Flirting turns to sparring. Sparring turns to angry sex—like therapy but naked. As time goes by and Luna and Adam become even more entangled, with their hardships and each other, the question becomes, does angry sex turn to more anger…or peace?
Excerpt from ANGRY SEX (NC17):
There was that pregnant pause—that loaded moment—where they stared each other down. Each silently telling the other that now was the time to back out if that was what they planned to do. Luna saw it in his eyes, that Adam had no intention of doing so. And neither did she. She proved the point by grabbing him by his muscular hips and pulling him in so that he slid into her fast and deep, his cock as thick as she’d imagined. As impressive and as capable.
Waxing poetic about a cock. When have you ever done that…
She silenced her internal taunts and thrust up to take him. Adam hovered over her, his fists buried on either side of her, shoved down into the sofa cushions, nearly creating a moat around her thighs. Her fingers climbed up his sides and she clutched him hard, loving the foreign feel of his skin under her hands, the warmth of him. Luna pressed her palm to his chest, feeling his galloping heart even as she rose up greedily to get him exactly where she needed him to be. Her cunt grew tighter with each thrust, the air grew thinner too. Her head was buzzy and light as the pleasure she felt held her tight and yanked her under a crushing wave of impending orgasm.
Already wet, already slick, already sated not once, but twice, she expected it to be weaker. But it wasn’t. When she came, it was as powerful as an explosion deep in the center of her. Luna wrapped her legs around his middle and bit his shoulder hard enough to make him growl. The orgasm slammed her again, not letting go, but amping up. All her anger, all her rage, all her frustration rode out every wet spasm and she sighed softly when they finally stopped.
He hadn’t come.
He pulled free of her and shoved his hands under her hips. When he flipped her she yelped but then laughed. When Adam pushed his big hands under her hipbones and angled her for penetration, she wondered, dear God…could she? Would she? And when he slid into her, his cock slippery with her juices, she thought yes, she just might come again.
He pushed her shoulders down and held her, driving into her so her hips bumped the cushions and her sofa squealed a little on the hardwood floor. He wasn’t wooing, or asking, or being soft, or worrying. He was taking her. He’d given her what she wanted and needed and now, he was taking. As this flashed through her mind, she felt the skin along her back pebble with goose flesh.
Adam held her firm with one hand, looped the other around her waist before knifing his hand between her legs to press hard against her clit. “Come with me,” he demanded.
“I came three times. I don’t know if I ca—“
“You can. Come with me,” he said again.
There was no room for argument. Luna felt the barely controlled need in his movements. His cock filled her and pressed her, making her gasp for air. Adam rotated his hips just enough to trigger all the happy nerve endings deep in her pussy. Her body spasmed fast, milked his cock hard enough to make him grunt, “Christ”.
And then he was pushing her face to the cushion as he came. Using her to grab his pleasure and take it from her.
Grab and take…grab and take…take…
Another soft wave flowed through her as a small, weaker orgasm curled in her center.
And then there was silence in the dark purple room. Dusk had come and the air had turned to shadow. “God,” she said.
“Just Adam,” he joked and surprised her by dropping a chaste kiss on the middle of her back and then the nape of her neck. He pulled free and stood, leaving her there, catching her breath while on her knees, her upper body spread across the red couch cushion.
When she turned to face him, he was zipping up, watching her with curiosity.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
“Are you offering me food?” He grinned.
“Then I am,” he echoed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said and ran upstairs to find something to wear. Her black short kimono would have to do, with fresh panties and her crazy fucked up hair clipped up in a twist. She hurried back down to see him examining a line of photos of Nick and other family on the mantle.
“Good looking kid.”
“Thank you. He’s fifteen. And he knows everything.”
Adam nodded. “As all fifteen-year-olds do,” he said and smiled at her.
There was something in that smile. Something that hadn’t been there before, and she felt her stomach twist in a painful but pleasant way.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah. I know, right?”
“He’s why you’re so…” Adam didn’t finish the sentence but waved his hands around in a pantomime of worked up.
“I have chicken. I can make chicken salad,” she said, walking past him. Luna had no interest in sharing her feelings right now. Maybe not ever. She just wanted the fucking to be what it was—recreational fucking.
He followed her in. It felt strange and wonderful to feel a man’s presence in the house. A new man—when Ben came over it seemed almost normal, he’d lived there so long. But to hear the heavy footsteps of a big man as he followed her through the dining room was sort of surreal, but cool.
“Ah, changing the subject are we?” He touched an old coffee sign made of pressed tin and then a wooden spoon angel that Nick had made her in the third grade.
“No, I’m avoiding the topic seeing as I don’t want to talk about it,” she said softly.
He laughed. “Touché.”
The hawt and gorgeous "Angry Sex" is available now from Excessica, Amazon, Smashwords...heck in all good smutteries! Get thee to you nearest!