It's always such a pleasure to have the wonderfully talented, and incredibly funny Sommer Marsden drop by. But even more so when she's brought with her another set of characters for us to fall in love with. She's here on her "pseudo-blog" (her term, not mine) tour to share her latest offering Poster Boy for Average. Which, let me tell you, is anything but. Just as Sommer is exquisite and unique, so is this tale of a modest man who must be shown that he is, indeed, above average.
And so, without further gilding the lily, and with no more ado (bonus points if you can tell me what movie that was from), I give you Sommer Marsden!
Longing
is lovely. Don’t you think? To write it is a pleasure. To write it
about two characters I adore is heaven. So when I wrote this scene I
made sure to pause and savor that painful little ache it triggered. But
the breathy kind of want that followed swiftly on its tail…
XOXO
Sommer
Excerpt:
Once she’d fed Bruce and made arrangements for Bradlee and Laura to come get him after school, she marched across the lawn that separated her and Mike and knocked.
“What are you doing?” she muttered. “This is ridiculous. This is just an excuse to see him.”
And
it was. She knew it was and she didn’t give a shit. She wanted him to
know she’d be gone for various reasons. They ranged from in case someone
broke into her house or it burned down, to if he needed her she
wouldn’t be there. And yes, part of her hoped beyond reasonable
sane-person hope that he would miss her. Some. At least a little.
A bit.
It
wasn’t even seven a.m. so she rang the bell. Best for him to hear her.
When she heard the chain slide back her heart jack-rabbited and she had
the irrational urge to flee. Instead, she straightened her spine and
stood there waiting.
Mike opened the door and regarded her with bloodshot eyes.
“Hi,” he said, leaning forward against the door jamb.
“You look like shit,” Aubrey blurted.
“Why thank you. Did you stop by just to tell me that?”
She snorted and quickly covered her face. “No. I actually came by to tell you…” Her tongue didn’t want to put the words out.
He opened the door wide and stepped back. “Why don’t you come in and tell me? It’s weird keeping you out there.”
She’d kept him out there the night before. But it had been midnight and she’d been—
Hurt. Unsure.
Aubrey
stepped inside and realized she’d never been inside before. Her eyes
went to the sofa. It was milk-chocolate brown, deep, cushiony and
rumpled all to hell. A throw lay tangled at one end as if he’d camped
out there all night. An infomercial ran on TV, so she was pretty sure
her guess was accurate.
“Tell
me what?” He hooked a finger at her and went into the downstairs
half-bath. He took a swig of mouthwash, swished it and recapped it.
“Sorry, didn’t want to kill you with my dragon breath.”
“I
wanted to tell you,” she said, so close to him in the small room she
couldn’t seem to draw a deep enough breath, “that I’m going away for
three or four days.”
“Is
it three or four?” He grinned at her. Between the grin and the
unreadable blue eyes and the sleep corkscrews in his hair, she felt the
draw of attraction in the pit of her stomach. She tried to shake it off
but it refused to be shaken.
“Not sure. Can’t remember.”
“Can’t
remember?” He touched the underside of her wrist with his fingertip.
Simply stroked gently above her pulse. That small gesture nearly undid
her.
“Yeah. I just got the call. I’m going to Key West.”
“Business or pleasure?”
The word pleasure made her knees feel all buckly
and such. “Business. Shooting a calendar. Which reminds me. They want
to use one of my shots of you. For December. But I was thinking when I
get back I could…” She was staring at his bare chest. He’d slept in his
jeans, but that was all. Aubrey realized she could see the tanned skin
jump softly with each beat of his heart. Judging by the pace of the
jumps, his heart was beating a little fast.
Just like hers.
“Could what?”
She
did two things simultaneously. She took a step back but she reached out
to touch that leaping skin. Her fingers came in contact and he stepped
toward her just as she retreated.
“Could set up one of my fake trees and take some shots. So you really look all Decembery.” Her hand was now splayed against his warm skin. She could feel his heartbeat now. Not just see it.
“That’s
fine.” He looked down at her hand and she glanced at his jeans. He was
hard. She could see it. And the visual coaxed a shivery little sigh out
of her. “You’re touching me.”
“You’re wanting me,” she replied. Why had she said that?
Indie
photographer and book cover artist Aubrey Singleton is living up to her
last name. A long summer at the lake has cured her of her recent
breakup, and she’s embracing life as a single woman. What she’s not
prepared for is to come back home to find she has a handsome new single
neighbor.
Mike
Sykes is a roofer—though he’s afraid of heights—a father of two and
recently divorced. Oh and one might classify him as smoking hot.
The
photographer in Aubrey is smitten, the single woman in her is
breathless. She’s ready to make Mike a star—on book covers and, though
she’s wary of a broken heart, in her life. He’s not so sure. Mike sees
himself as a life complication due to his younger son’s illness, and not
hot by a long shot. In fact, he thinks he’s the poster boy for average.
But a “business” trip to Key West, rife with hunky models, sets a backdrop for a shot at true love…
Buy it here!
Ellora’s Cave:
ARe:
About the Author:
Professional
dirty word writer, gluten free baker, sock addict, fat wiener dog
walker, expert procrastinator. Called "one of the top storytellers in
the erotic genre" by Violet Blue, Sommer Marsden writes for HarperCollins Mischief, Ellora's Cave, Excessica, Xcite Books and Resplendence Publishing. She's the author of numerous erotic novels including Poster Boy for Average, The Accidental Cougar, Lost in You, and Learning to Drown. Visit http://sommermarsden.blogspot.com
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