Sommer Marsden is a fantastically talented erotic romance author. Not only is she very talented, she’s an all-round lovely lady. Anyone who’s had the pleasure to interact with her will tell you.
At the moment Sommer’s family is going through a really challenging time, as her husband is fighting pancreatic cancer, and it's putting a strain on them in many ways.
How do you join in? Well, anyone is welcome to donate to the cause -- whatever you can manage will be gratefully received, thank you so very, very much! Donate here --
You can also drop over to Sommers' blog and pick up a book or three. She's a fabulous writer, so you'll be glad you made the investment --
A number of authors are participating in the Snogathon, and we invite you to blog hop with us as we post our best snog scenes from one of our stories! Read our snoggy posts, then drop over to Smut for Good and make your donation. And while you're on the site, be SURE to check out the participating authors and their snoggy excerpts.
Please note that each book in this series is just 99c/89c euro/77p on Kindle. If you'll by copies of my books today, 14 September, I will donate my royalties from today's sales and add it onto my donation to Sommer.
My snoggy excerpt comes from my most recently book, Shape of My Heart, which is book three in the Irish Pride Series. Enjoy!
And don't forget to visit the
Smut for Good site for the list of participating authors who are posting their favorite snog scenes too.
• • •
Gráinne has moved back to Dublin to get her life straightened out. She dreams of college and a better life. She’s working for her brother, Kieran, in his newly reopened pub, The Blues Tavern, but the money isn’t enough to support herself and pay tuition. Moonlighting at The Klub! as an exotic dancer seems to be her answer to fast money.
John ‘JD’ Desmond is a detective working undercover in the Blues Tavern. The Klub!, owned by Jimmy Malloy, is being used as a drug front, headed by the notorious Taylor Wade. JD had intended to get Gráinne to snitch for him, but when he falls in love with her, things get complicated.
When Gráinne witnesses Jimmy’s murder, she and JD are forced to go on the run until Wade can be apprehended. Wade lives up to his nickname, The Hunter, and JD and Gráinne quickly find themselves at the end of a gun and running for their lives.
“There’s no other way to say this, Gráinne, so I’ll say it straight. If you don’t help me with this, I’ll tell Kieran about your job at The Klub!.”
The silence hanging in the air was palpable.
Anything Gráinne could say to JD suddenly vanished. Her mind went blank. She stared at him, trying to gauge if he really would tell Kieran about her side job. When he held her gaze, unwavering, she knew he was telling her the truth.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Even to her, her voice was barely audible.
“Yes. I would.”
She knew he was waiting for her reaction, and a reaction is what he got. She raised her hand to slap him across the face. As before, he reacted quickly and grabbed her wrist before she made contact.
His sudden movement startled the sleeping Milo, who swiped him angrily across the chest before bolting off his lap. JD instantly released her wrist and sprang back.
Gráinne gasped. “Jazus! I’m sorry,” she said, her anger dampened. She leapt up and raced to the bathroom to get her first aid kit.
When she returned, JD was at the sink with a damp tea towel, dabbing at the wicked scratches across his chest.
“Here, give me that.” She took the tea towel from him, popped open the first aid kit and pulled out the alcohol and sanitary wipes.
“I’m so sorry. I never thought . . .” Guilt washed over her. She should have put the cat out as soon as he came into the kitchen. She shouldn’t have let JD talk her into leaving him on his lap. She couldn’t tell him now, though. His eyes were distracting. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. It was an accident.” The moment the alcohol touched his skin, he flinched hard at the sting, sucking in his breath. “Hey, watch it.”
“Don’t be such a big girl’s blouse. It’s only a small cut.” She was startled by his chuckle. Even after their heated words, her attempted slap, and Milo’s well-aimed strike, he still found the situation amusing. She probably would, too, if she thought about it long enough.
Silence pressed between them while she tended his wound. Gráinne became painfully aware of JD’s nearness as she worked.
It wasn’t a deep scratch, just jagged across his flesh, so she lingered over it to be sure it was cleaned properly. At least, that’s what she told herself.
His skin radiated warmth and she felt his heart beating against her fingertips. She loved the smell of good whiskey on a handsome man’s breath. He was so close she had to keep herself from leaning into him.
Was it her imagination, or was JD leaning into her? He was so close his own natural scent penetrated her senses. He didn’t wear any artificial fragrance. His scent was purely male . . . purely aroused male, if the bulge against her stomach was any indication.
His intrusion was stealth and she was sure it was purposeful. Nothing about JD was done without forethought. As she thought about this, he leaned even closer. She was now trapped between him and the counter.
His nearness, the feel of his body pressing into hers, the scent of the whiskey on his breath, and the feel of his skin on her fingertips, all worked to steal her breath.
Breathe, girl, breathe, she silently chanted.
The wound was cleaned, but it had been a long time since she’d felt a man’s arms around her, the comforting strength of a male embrace, how safe it made her feel.
She’d be lying if she said she’d never lain with a man before, but she’d never been loved by one. Not properly so.
Her desperation for love had always been ill-aimed, and she continually mistook sex for love.
She had a lot of growing up to do. She’d hoped to do that now she was living in Dublin again. New starts, finding herself, growing up. And, until she did, no men.
Gráinne’s heart squeezed tight as her emotions ran circles through her mind. It would be so easy to pull JD into a kiss and hope, by giving herself to him, he would love her. Her head told her no, but her heart ached for her head to be wrong. JD felt so good against her, so natural. Her body cried out to be touched and cared for, even if just for the night.
No, this was wrong. She couldn’t allow herself to break her promise. If she did, everything she’d worked toward, the humiliating job at The Klub!, lying to her brother, would all have been for nothing. It would only add up to failure, which she was all too familiar with.
JD shifted against her again. Something deep inside her groaned with need.
Oh, why did she torture herself like this? There was no future with this man. He didn’t love her. He came here to tell her he’d been using her. She should hate him right now, not fighting to keep her hands to herself.
She had to keep her eyes on her future; money first, then education. Without money, there could be no education. She told herself this over and over again like a mantra, but as JD’s heat seeped into her she felt her will collapsing.
He shifted again and Gráinne felt his erection pressing firmly against her. She didn’t dare look up because he was so close; cheek-to-cheek but not touching. His breath caressed her skin at the opening of her robe.
She had to get away from him if she were to maintain some semblance of dignity. His unspoken intention was all too alluring.
Tossing the soiled pad aside, she said, “That should keep you.” She was ashamed she couldn’t raise her voice above a whisper.
“Thank you.” His own voice was barely a whisper, too.
She turned toward him slightly. It was in her mind to apologize again for Milo, but the moment she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t think, couldn’t move . . . couldn’t breathe. His eyes bore into hers, freezing her in place.
When he leaned even closer, she started panicking. Her heart pounded in her chest. What was he doing?
“I said I’m done.”
“I’m not,” he growled, then closed the gap between them.
The instant his lips touched hers, she was sure she’d melted into him. If he didn’t have her pressed so firmly against the counter, her legs would have collapsed under her.
She’d often wondered what it would be like to kiss JD. Ever since the night she’d danced for him in The Klub! she’d let her mind run mazes through her fantasies about him. She’d permitted herself the fantasies, because that’s all she’d allowed herself until school was done and she had the education she craved. But this was no fantasy. JD was nothing like anything her wild imagination could ever conjure. He was pure flesh, hardness and heat, and his kiss had her undone.
Instinct took over, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tilting her head, she parted her lips and welcomed his intruding tongue. The moment they touched, JD groaned deep in his throat and his arms hauled her against him, closer still. His hands were flat on her back, holding her, the pads of his fingers massaging her flesh.
Gráinne gasped when he pressed his hips against her again and again. No, not his hips. Something harder. He slid his hands around and grasped her bottom, squeezing it roughly, holding her as he slowly ground himself against her.
As his kiss deepened, Gráinne continued losing all sense of reality. She couldn’t believe how easily JD made her drop her defenses. Was she so needy for a man’s touch?
“JD,” she heard herself whisper, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Or if he did, he ignored her. “John.” He looked at her then. His eyes smoldered with desire. What she felt echoed in his gaze.
“You’re so soft,” he murmured, as he stroked the backs of his fingers against her cheek, smoothing away an errant curl. His gaze followed his fingers as they traveled down her neck to her collarbone, and then dipped to the cleft between her breasts. He used both to part the collar of her wrap, easily pushing it off her shoulders. Too easily. She couldn’t stop him. She followed his gaze to her breasts where he gently cupped them. Her nipples pebbled under his thumbs.
She felt his breath against her skin just before he claimed a nipple between his lips. The feel of his mouth on her was like lightning strike. It shot a bolt of fire through her body so intense she arched against him. She buried her fingers in his hair just to make sure he didn’t stop.
Her body was on fire. Every nerve ending was alive with sensation.
He slipped his arms around her and the tiny hairs on his arms grazed her skin, sending tingles up her spine. The cool night air did nothing to tame the sensations racing through her. There was nothing she could to do stop him. Her will was gone.
He gazed up at her while he suckled her. Neither moved. His gaze was intense, questioning, as if asking for permission to continue.
Then he moved to her other breast.
“Jazus!” she cursed aloud.
She should have said no.
She should have said stop.
She should have said a lot of things. Later, when she had her senses back, she was sure she’d come up with several choice words. Right now, though, she found it hard just to breathe.
JD rose and reclaimed her mouth. His chest hairs on her sensitive breasts enticed her all the more. She was forced to grasp the counter to remain upright.
As if she wasn’t having enough trouble standing on two legs, JD hauled one leg around his waist. It was by willpower alone she was able to stand at all.
The instant his lips touched hers again, it seemed her whole world stood still; his fire consumed her. It washed over her and drowned her in a pool of liquid passion the like she’d never felt before. No man had ever kissed her with as much feeling.
God, he would make her come if he kept rubbing against her like this. And God help her, she wanted him inside her. Now.
It was all too much. The realization of what she was doing hit her so suddenly, it left her shattered and weak. She had to remind herself sex was not love, no matter how good it felt. She craved approval. She wanted acceptance. She wanted to be loved, damn it! By God, JD’s touch echoed something she fought hard to name.
“No,” she gasped, pushing him back.
Every inch of her flesh was alive with feeling. It had never been like this before. No man had ever made her feel this way. No man had ever touched her so lovingly. His touch was loving but it wasn’t love. She barely knew the man. No. It wasn’t love, she told herself.
He shot his gaze up to hers, passion and confusion twisting as one across his face.
She was slow to come back to earth, but when she did, a wave of shame washed over her, drowning her contentment.
“I’m sorry. No.” She pushed JD away from her, but her legs refused to support her weight and she would have sunk to the floor had he not steadied her. She grasped the edges of her robe and pulled them back together.
Her eyes filled with tears. She bit her lip to keep them at bay. She would not let him see how this affected her. She couldn’t look at him, but his fingers were on her chin and turning her toward him. His eyes were filled with passion and . . . something. She couldn’t read his expression.
“No,” she gasped through the tears suddenly spilling down her cheeks. “Leave me alone.”
It had to be the stress of the day making her feel this way, making her so vulnerable, and not that she desired JD. But she did desire him. She had since Halloween night when he surreptitiously stepped into her life.
“Sshhh,” he whispered, and pulled her against him. “It’s okay.”
“Please, just . . . don’t.” He refused to listen to her. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. He cupped the back of her head in his hot palm and held her to his shoulder where she finally lost it.
• • •
I love hearing from readers. If you enjoyed this excerpt, please let me know. If you've read any of the books in this series, please take a moment and write a short review, letting me know if you liked the books or not.
Don't forget -- Visit Smut for Good, donate, and visit other authors to read their snoggy excerpts.
And don't forget, if you pick up copies of my Irish Pride Series, I'll add today's sales to my donation.
Sommer Marsden is a fantastically talented erotic romance author. Not only is she very talented, she’s an all-round lovely lady. Anyone who’s had the pleasure to interact with her will tell you.
Thanks to Jeff Gardiner for tagging me in The Writing Process Blog Hop. Read about Jeff’s writing process here.
