Something a bit different today: I'm delighted to welcome the very wonderful Sommer Marsden to my blog, to talk about her new novel Angry Sex. (What a great title!)
First, here's the blurb so you know what the book's about:
Next, I asked Sommer to reveal something about the inspiration for the book ...
Writing Luna was a form of therapy for me, but watching this character unfold and go after what she wants and then rethink what she wants as circumstances and emotions change, was an honor. Sounds like she’s a real person, yeah? Well to me she is. In one way she’s her very own independent “person”, and in another she is little bits and glimmers of me glued to a cardboard cutout labeled FICTIONAL CHARACTER.
The fact that she is a mom and also has some maternal hurdles to jump over brings her character even closer to home. It was a marvel to write my first book that involved someone with a child (in a novel) and how that shaped the plot and the emotion within. But I must say, for the most part, Luna is a bad ass. As so many day-to-day, working, trying, running, planning, loving, worrying mothers are. Angry Sex was my little way of proving that not only do moms have anger and feel helpless and are very often imperfect non June Cleaver types of people, but they do in fact (*gasp*) have sex. Good sex. Rough, dirty, sweet, tender, fast, lazy, intense … even angry sex.
Alert the media ;)
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”.
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.
“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.”